Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ War Story ❯ Chapter 7
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Vinyl-Koneko 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Angst / Adventure / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 06.30.2003 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 411 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Angst / Adventure / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 06.30.2003 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 411 | Status: Completed
+ Title: War Story - Part 7
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net
+ Rating: R
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.
*~**~*
Duo had been right; the small, American-style diner did make a good cheeseburger, and he had been right, as well, in regard to how well Duo would get along with Quatre and Trowa. Heero didn't feel as uncomfortable as he first thought he would, being the only straight guy in the group, but the atmosphere didn't feel any different than if he were hanging out with his own friends back home.
"My parents, of course, were pissed off when they found out I was stuck here for an indeterminable amount of time. They didn't want me to get hurt." Duo rolled his eyes. "From they way they were going on, you'd think London was having air raids because of me and who I am."
"At least your parents accepted your differences and moved on," Quatre sighed, head propped up on his elbow as he ran a French fry through a puddle of ketchup. "What does he expect? I have thirty-nine sisters, and they're all older than me!"
"Damn," Duo remarked, a crude grin on his face. "Your father must be one busy man."
"Duo!" Heero was surprised at the bluntness, but Quatre just laughed.
"No, he's right. My father and I never had the time to grow very close. On that basis alone I shouldn't have expected him to understand how I am. The fact that I wanted to fight the Nazis just topped it all off."
Trowa squeezed his lover's hand. "It just proves that you are the better man."
Heero couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy when the two of them looked at each other, their eyes filled with love and adoration. Wasn't that how things were *supposed* to be between him and Relena? They could hardly stand to be in the same room as each other, and that was so long ago when their marriage had been merely hours old. The only time they had kissed was a very chaste meeting of lips during the ceremony, and they never even made love.
"Hey, Trowa," Duo cautiously broke the silence, "if you don't mind me asking, how did you injure your leg?"
The mechanic smirked slightly, hiding his eyes briefly under the fall of hair before bringing his gaze back up to answer the question. "There was a raid in the middle of the night several months ago. There was no moon, and it was dark and cold. It had rained that day, freezing to ice during the night. That was when our mechanical crew was only temporary, so during sudden raids we had to quickly do our own inspection before taking off. I was careless, not checking the engine to make sure it was in working order. A piece had become frozen and snapped off when I started the engine, and in the air I noticed my plane was on fire. By that point I was a half-hour outside the base, which was long enough for the flames to get into the cockpit. My mask kept me from asphyxiating, but I had passed out from the pain the second the landing gear touched the ground.
"My leg almost needed to be amputated, and I realized how much worse that could have been. I gave Colonel Marquise my resignation as a pilot, and I told him I wanted to be the chief mechanic instead." Trowa grinned. "That still doesn't keep Quatre from smashing up my planes, though."
Quatre coughed suddenly on his cola, features turning beet red.
"Is this a good story?" Duo's eyes depicted nothing but curiosity. "What happened?"
The blond man cleared his throat. "I joined the unit shortly after Trowa's accident, and I was feeling a bit rebellious from having been alienated from my family. I was raised Muslim, and we are not allowed to pollute our bodies with certain foods and drinks. I had tested my relationship with my father and lost, so I wanted to test my relationship with Allah. I went out into the city that night, found a bar, and drank whatever I thought sounded good until I had no money left in my pockets. I barely made it back to the barracks before passing out on my cot.
"The next morning we had a dogfight drill, shooting blanks at each other, and I felt so nauseous. My head hurt and the sound of the rounds being fired and the light from the sun just made me want to be sick. I closed my eyes for a moment, falling asleep. I woke up minutes later to my wingman screaming at me over the radio channel, telling me to eject. I barely registered what was going on as I pressed the button, but I do remember the sound of crunching metal followed by an explosion.
"When I looked at the plane the next day, the nose was inverted back to stick out of the tail, and I learned why Allah forbid us to drink." Quatre looked over at Heero, "And I've never made that mistake again." He leaned back into the booth. "Although I did get the chance to meet Trowa because of that. Colonel Marquise thought I was too good to just dismiss, and he knew that I was a little…distraught, so my punishment was to be Trowa's assistant for the following month."
Duo snickered. "Let me guess: it lead to a little more than *assisting*, didn't it?"
"I'll allow your imagination to fill in your own details."
"Touché."
The rest of the meal had the tables turned, asking Duo questions about his childhood. The longhaired American had grown up in Massachusetts, going to school in Boston when his junior year took him to studying abroad in London, where he had been stuck ever since.
"I've been here for three years. There are some things I miss about the States, but I actually like my life over here. Wish I could have graduated, but really, when we win this thing and the Nazis are expected to pay for their damages, a degree better be in there or I'm going to be writing a letter to Roosevelt."
"You don't really think that'll happen, do you?" Heero asked.
Duo shrugged, meeting the major's gaze. "Hey, I can dream, can't I?"
*~**~*
End Part 7
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net
+ Rating: R
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.
*~**~*
Duo had been right; the small, American-style diner did make a good cheeseburger, and he had been right, as well, in regard to how well Duo would get along with Quatre and Trowa. Heero didn't feel as uncomfortable as he first thought he would, being the only straight guy in the group, but the atmosphere didn't feel any different than if he were hanging out with his own friends back home.
"My parents, of course, were pissed off when they found out I was stuck here for an indeterminable amount of time. They didn't want me to get hurt." Duo rolled his eyes. "From they way they were going on, you'd think London was having air raids because of me and who I am."
"At least your parents accepted your differences and moved on," Quatre sighed, head propped up on his elbow as he ran a French fry through a puddle of ketchup. "What does he expect? I have thirty-nine sisters, and they're all older than me!"
"Damn," Duo remarked, a crude grin on his face. "Your father must be one busy man."
"Duo!" Heero was surprised at the bluntness, but Quatre just laughed.
"No, he's right. My father and I never had the time to grow very close. On that basis alone I shouldn't have expected him to understand how I am. The fact that I wanted to fight the Nazis just topped it all off."
Trowa squeezed his lover's hand. "It just proves that you are the better man."
Heero couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy when the two of them looked at each other, their eyes filled with love and adoration. Wasn't that how things were *supposed* to be between him and Relena? They could hardly stand to be in the same room as each other, and that was so long ago when their marriage had been merely hours old. The only time they had kissed was a very chaste meeting of lips during the ceremony, and they never even made love.
"Hey, Trowa," Duo cautiously broke the silence, "if you don't mind me asking, how did you injure your leg?"
The mechanic smirked slightly, hiding his eyes briefly under the fall of hair before bringing his gaze back up to answer the question. "There was a raid in the middle of the night several months ago. There was no moon, and it was dark and cold. It had rained that day, freezing to ice during the night. That was when our mechanical crew was only temporary, so during sudden raids we had to quickly do our own inspection before taking off. I was careless, not checking the engine to make sure it was in working order. A piece had become frozen and snapped off when I started the engine, and in the air I noticed my plane was on fire. By that point I was a half-hour outside the base, which was long enough for the flames to get into the cockpit. My mask kept me from asphyxiating, but I had passed out from the pain the second the landing gear touched the ground.
"My leg almost needed to be amputated, and I realized how much worse that could have been. I gave Colonel Marquise my resignation as a pilot, and I told him I wanted to be the chief mechanic instead." Trowa grinned. "That still doesn't keep Quatre from smashing up my planes, though."
Quatre coughed suddenly on his cola, features turning beet red.
"Is this a good story?" Duo's eyes depicted nothing but curiosity. "What happened?"
The blond man cleared his throat. "I joined the unit shortly after Trowa's accident, and I was feeling a bit rebellious from having been alienated from my family. I was raised Muslim, and we are not allowed to pollute our bodies with certain foods and drinks. I had tested my relationship with my father and lost, so I wanted to test my relationship with Allah. I went out into the city that night, found a bar, and drank whatever I thought sounded good until I had no money left in my pockets. I barely made it back to the barracks before passing out on my cot.
"The next morning we had a dogfight drill, shooting blanks at each other, and I felt so nauseous. My head hurt and the sound of the rounds being fired and the light from the sun just made me want to be sick. I closed my eyes for a moment, falling asleep. I woke up minutes later to my wingman screaming at me over the radio channel, telling me to eject. I barely registered what was going on as I pressed the button, but I do remember the sound of crunching metal followed by an explosion.
"When I looked at the plane the next day, the nose was inverted back to stick out of the tail, and I learned why Allah forbid us to drink." Quatre looked over at Heero, "And I've never made that mistake again." He leaned back into the booth. "Although I did get the chance to meet Trowa because of that. Colonel Marquise thought I was too good to just dismiss, and he knew that I was a little…distraught, so my punishment was to be Trowa's assistant for the following month."
Duo snickered. "Let me guess: it lead to a little more than *assisting*, didn't it?"
"I'll allow your imagination to fill in your own details."
"Touché."
The rest of the meal had the tables turned, asking Duo questions about his childhood. The longhaired American had grown up in Massachusetts, going to school in Boston when his junior year took him to studying abroad in London, where he had been stuck ever since.
"I've been here for three years. There are some things I miss about the States, but I actually like my life over here. Wish I could have graduated, but really, when we win this thing and the Nazis are expected to pay for their damages, a degree better be in there or I'm going to be writing a letter to Roosevelt."
"You don't really think that'll happen, do you?" Heero asked.
Duo shrugged, meeting the major's gaze. "Hey, I can dream, can't I?"
*~**~*
End Part 7