Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Touched ❯ Prologue

Touched

(Prologue)

Pairing : 2x5x2

Rating : R overall

Warnings : Yaoi, lime, mild angst/sap/violence

Disclaimer : GW belongs to Sunrise, Sotsu and Bandai. I wish I owned it though.

Summary : A mission finished at the expense of one pilot getting hurt. Two boys find themselves sharing space in the same safehouse, and finding a connection while learning to live with each other.

+++++ : Change of scene

~~~~~ : Scene break

< > : Recalled speech

// // : Thoughts

A/N : This doesn't follow the canon storyline. ^_^ Feedback appreciated!

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"I bet you think that's really noble! Or honourable! Or just - *justifiable*, whatever you call it! Well, let me tell you - loud and clear - that it's NOT! It's the stupidest, most idi-fucking-otic thing you could ever do! EVER! Do you hear me, you - "

"*Yes*, Maxwell. I hear you," Chang Wufei grated out. A mental pat for himself that he could still manage a coherent reply through the waves of agony drowning his senses.

"Good!" Duo Maxwell retorted. He wanted to continue his tirade but that could happen later. Right now, he was more concerned with getting his comrade's ass - and his own, of course - back to the safehouse he knew was tucked away in the outskirts of the town they had just passed.

He chanced a glance at the injured Shenlong pilot and unbidden, his guts clenched. Dammit! The Chinese youth had all but sagged into his seat, body limp, head lolling to one side. The copper colour of his skin had paled to a sickly pallor. And red…red on white…blood staining his silk tunic in countless places. His right hand clutched his dark blue sash, holding the makeshift bandage against a wounded left arm. The blue had turned almost black with the blood. So much blood…

"W-watch the road," a low tenor rasped.

"Shut up." Duo said more sharply than he had intended. But his eyes did return to the road. They couldn't possibly have lugged their asses through enemy territory, gotten fired at from all directions, miraculously snagged a beaten-down car near the hidden OZ base - to end up dying from a road accident due to negligent driving. Duo felt an absurd urge to laugh at that one. Gundam Pilots killed in a car crash. Wonder what OZ would say to that.

The car rocked as it rolled over a bump. A harsh moan near him snapped Duo back to the present.

"Wufei?" Duo glanced worriedly at the near-unconscious pilot. If it was even possible, Wufei's face seemed even more ashen than moments ago. "Hang on. We'll be there soon." Duo said through gritted teeth.

Glazed onyx eyes fluttered shut even as the Chinese youth mumbled something affirmative.

"Keep your eyes open!"

"…s…sleepy…"

"Fuck, no way! You keep your eyes open! Don't you dare sleep on me!" Duo ranted, knuckles turning white from his death grip on the steering wheel. Violet eyes flicked back and forth from the road to Wufei in growing panic. //Don't you dare die on me!//

He might have been shouting at air. Wufei's eyes remained closed, thick black lashes resting heavily against bloodless cheeks.

"Wufei!" Duo snapped out an arm and batted the pale face. "Don't sleep n - "

"…nnoooot…sleeeeeppppinnng..." the words were slurred, as if Wufei was drunk.

Duo didn't bother with a reply this time. After he'd gunned the last curve, his eyes had spotted something between the trees which looked - he prayed fervently for whatever God up there that this was true - like the safehouse.

He swung the wheel, swerving the battered car onto a dirt-path almost fully obscured by the huge, towering trees. And…a little voice in Duo's mind sang with gladness…there was the safehouse!

Duo killed the engine, bringing the car to a stop. Moving without thinking - there was no time to waste - he was by his comrade's side in instant.

"Oh God, Wufei…" he whispered as he stared down at the bleeding youth. As gently and quickly as he could, Duo wrapped lean, muscled arms around the prone form, vaguely disturbed at how easily he could lift it. An answering groan emitted from cracked lips, and Duo hoped to high heavens he hadn't aggravated any of the Chinese youth's injuries.

"Ma…Maxwell?"

Duo carefully shifted the weight in his arms so it nestled snugly against his chest. He looked down into obsidian eyes that, hazy with blood loss as they were, glimmered with a spark of familiar fire. Duo sighed inwardly. He knew what those eyes were saying; something along the lines of `put-me-down-I-can-walk-on-my own'.

The braided youth simply tightened his hold. "Don't even *say* it," he warned as he trudged towards the safehouse.

++++++++++

Duo leaned his head wearily on his palm. He knew he couldn't rest, not yet anyway. Around him lay swathes, bandages, the sash Wufei had tied around his injured arm…all stained bright crimson. It was startling how disconcerting blood could suddenly seem…even with all the death Duo had seen - and administered. Not when it was a comrade's blood. Not a comrade. Duo closed his eyes, and immediately, as though there was a fucking projector in his mind, he began to see images…the destroyed church, Father Maxwell...and Sister Helen…

Bloodstained postcards from his past.

And now his present. Duo's eyes flew open and he gazed dazedly at his hands, now caked reddish brown from his earlier feverish attempts to close up Wufei's wound. He slowly clenched his stained hands into quivering fists. Shinigami indeed! The God of Death! And he could barely keep his fellow pilot alive. In some vague recess of his mind, Duo knew they could take care of themselves. They were Gundam pilots after all - all of them! Yet every time one of them, it didn't matter who - it could be the Perfect Soldier for all Duo cared - came back hurt, it scared Duo out of his mind. Yes, it was fear that he would lose them like he had lost everyone he had loved not so many years ago. And the fear drove him right into his automatic response - to laugh, to talk.

Except that response had failed him this time.

When he had held the pilot of Shenlong in his arms and stared down at the closed eyes that should have been brimming with vitality, and the sickly pallor of caramel face that should have been rosy with health…That had hit too close to home. Reminded Duo a little too much of the one thing he was supposed to have control over - death.

Duo rose, holding onto the rough table-top to steady himself. His footfalls were silent as he padded towards the sole bedroom in the safehouse.

The interior was dim, lit up only by irregular shafts of moonlight, and whatever little light that flickered in from the small fireplace in the living room. Shadows shifted, receded…Duo stared down at the bed which held its precious occupant.

The thin sheets were just enough to be an adequate shield against the chill. This safehouse didn't have the Winner touch to it; it contained bare necessities, period. Duo had laid as many as he could afford - leaving at least some for himself - over the Shenlong pilot. Looking down at the sleeping Chinese youth, Duo felt his eyes sting as he saw one copper hand clutched tightly around a fistful of blanket.

How like a child…Duo smiled in the dimness and reached out a hand. His trailing fingers met soft cheek and he couldn't help giving the rounded curve a gentle caress.

//Sleep tight, Wufei.//

Duo turned away and left the room.

~*~ end Prologue ~*~