Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Wilderness ❯ Cold Morning ( Chapter 5 )

 

Wilderness

By Dentelle_Noir

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, duh. Don't you find this as redundant as I? I hope so.

 

Warning: Eventual yaoi. Man bashing.

 

NOTE: I'm giving Wilderness a bit of a re-haul and edit! Mostly from the middle on arethe larger changes, but the earlier chapters have more format and minor wording changes. Look for new chapters soon, though!

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five: Cold Morning

 

Sun shining brightly, at six AM, blinded Quatre as he woke with a start. Something was moving around him. Having woken up a few times before in the night by hoots or other rustling forest sounds, Quatre was more surprised by the intense light then the fact that is was someone rather than something moving about.

 

Raising his head up, he was greeted with a warm smile from Jane, one of the older women on the trip with an empty-nest syndrome. She was the one he had walked beside after the squirrel incident and she kept telling him it would be all right. She was the only one who seemed sympathetic when he caught on fire, or fell in the river, or dropped off the climbing wall. God bless Jane.

 

Anyway, she was smiling down through his cocoon of sleeping bag. "Morning Sunshine! Up and At 'Em! It's a new beautiful day!" She sung. One bullet. That's all it would take.

 

But then he woke fully. He was normally a morning person too after all, and he could understand. It really was a beautiful morning. So once he was up and dressed in regular clothes, he too was spreading his cheer, albeit quieter and less abrasively. Okay! He was sitting drinking tea, but he was smiling at least!

 

Soon, they were fed by the handy dandy bribery jeep again, and they were strapped into life jackets and helmets, ready to tackle the harder rapids.

 

Quatre couldn't help but get swept up in all the enthusiasm since in all the day yesterday, nothing horrible had happened. Nothing. Someone had fallen out of the raft who was NOT him, and they were fine, brought back in seconds later, laughing. What did he have to fear? He knew he wasn't good at paddling and all that, many others weren't much better, but he hadn't done anything hopeless yet. So he took this as an omen that whatever god he had upset during the four days previously was happy now, and letting him live. He could deal with that.

 

 

 

Hair swooshing behind him and face numb from splashing frozen water, Quatre still felt exhilarated. Every vein in his body pumped adrenaline through his system and each breath was a freezing reminder that they were out on the dangerous river, nothing between them and the pulsing current except their paddles and the rubber raft.

 

The run turned, Milly commanding a "left paddle" and they followed, the group working as in sync as they could muster.

 

Someone's paddle floated by Quatre and he smirked as Milly plucked it out of the water and handed it back to some blushing girl near the front.

 

They seemed to think the guide was all that and a bag of chips or something. Sure, the man was good looking, and when he spoke he seemed to always have the attention of everyone in sight, animals included. But really. He was just a pretty boy. A pretty boy who was kick-ass at navigating rapids, anyway.

 

Quatre had to admit: it was damn fun. He never thought he would be an outdoorsy sport-liking guy. Hell he hated most sports, but he was enjoying himself. He was even getting the hang of the paddling.

 

Behind Quatre's head, Milly's commanding voice boomed over the boat. They were going to pull into the clearing coming up. Quatre remembered with a bit of sickness, they were supposed to go fishing before lunch. Damn. Just when he was having fun.

 

It took a few times, but they got the boat in. Someone fell in the water on the way out and got completely soaked, and it wasn't him! Yeah! He just had to get out himself.

 

Behind him came Jerry, a 19 year old with a chip on his shoulder and was one of the loudest when laughing at Quatre's follies. Everything about the boy screamed Football Jock. Quatre was a drama brat. Oil and water, baby. So he couldn't tell why he was surprised when he felt a hard nudge across his shoulders pushing him down hard.

 

The wet rubber of the back of the boat squeaked as Quatre's form tumbled up and over. His legs flew up in the air in front of him and the frigid spring waters grabbed his body.

 

It was incredibly cold. The sheer temperature drop shocked his system, setting off panic signals through Quatre's limbs. The consuming waves gripped at him, tugging at his clothes and hair to move with it down the stream. Reacting with a yelp was the worst thing he had done. The ice water plunging into his mouth froze his insides faster and took away the little air he had with such force he was seeing stars. He'd been punched in the gut before, but this was a hell of a lot worse.

 

Suddenly he felt fingers wrap around his arm and yank hard and unrelenting, springing him up to the bright surface gasping for air and heaving cold water from his burning lungs. Sputtering and chocking back the only air he could grasp he felt himself being pulled like a rag doll by the strong hand.

 

"You Fucking Bastard!" Quatre had never heard such a harsh tone, and he wasn't even sure if it was Wufei's voice anymore, but it did trigger his image.

 

Once his foggy mind cleared a bit as he was still being dragged and he noticed just where he was. They were fifty feet away from the raft, it swaying in the current that seemed to be whirl-pooling around the little cove, and beside it a suspiciously familiar life-jacket bobbed away, starting to follow the strong water towards the huge outcropping of rocks only a few feet from them now, the current blasting against the surface and breaking into a constant spray.

 

Quatre paled knowing if he drifted that far in the seconds he had been under, he would've smashed up against those rocks in mere moments more if Wufei hadn't grabbed him just when he did.

 

Quatre again failed to get a grip on the bottom, still being hauled by his friend. Quatre couldn't figure out how Wufei was going at that sped, he was practically creating a current of his own, leaving Quatre stuck in the backwash and still sputtering to catch his breath. But he wouldn't dare ask him to slow down. One look at Wufei's snarl gave him chills. Wufei was hell bent to kill right now, and Quatre was just a little puppet hanging from his trailing arm.

 

Finally his feet caught a good hold on solid ground and he was able to stand a bit, but just as he could, he felt Wufei's tug drop. Quatre stumbled onto the dry land and grabbed for the nearest tree and held, trying to keep his jelly limbs holding. Wufei glimpsed back for a nano second, seeing Quatre wasn't dead and turned, continuing in his line that he never strayed from.

 

Jerry didn't even have time to blink before Wufei was in his space and landing a vicious punch across his face, sending the boy twice his thickness to the ground in a single blow. But that was not enough for him.

 

Fei followed him down, straddled over Jerry's prone and retaliating figure and relentlessly pounding into him like a man possessed. Quatre starred dumbstruck. He had never seen anyone so furious. Wufei's father tried to intervene, only to be shoved to the ground by his own son. Wufei continued to pummel Jerry into the dirt, just beating him senseless, far beyond anything Quatre would've wished upon anyone, Even Jerry.

 

Milly had to do something. Striding over he grabbed under Wufei's arms and wrenched him off.

 

Thrashing and raging, Wufei bucked against the hold, his legs flying off the ground and almost knocking Milly off balance. "I'm going to fucking kill him!!! Let me the Fuck go!!" Wufei screamed tearing at Milliardo's arms and body. Wufei's hair flew in his face, twisted with blind rage as he struggled and huffed.

 

Milly held, even after Wufei had stopped bucking off the ground and he stood growling and twitching to be let go. Eyes still narrowed in threat to the unconscious football jock.

 

"Fuck, Dragon! What the hell was that!" Milly asked, thinking he was calmed.

 

Wrong.

 

That just seemed to piss Wufei off even more. "Don't fucking call me that, Zechs!!!" He bellowed, wrenched out of Milly grip to land another punch square in Milly jaw, landing the longhaired blonde flat on his ass on the sandy dirt.

 

One of the avid watchers from the crowd caught the slip just like Quatre had, "Who's Zechs?"

 

"It's my nickname." Milliardo explained, bringing himself upwards.

 

Wufei stood heaving and growling, pointing his deadly gaze to their guide now. But Milly stood, eyes equally narrow. "Don't take it out on ME!" Milly growled, eyes pissed as well, "I'd be fucking pissed to, `Fei. But I'm not HIM. Don't take it out here. We're still friends." Milly warned eyes following Wufei's every twitch like a cat waiting for the attack.

 

After a second or two, Wufei huffed loudly and shot his head to the side, clearing the rogue strands away from his clenched face. But he relaxed a bit, his posture still ready, but not about to spring at the slightest movement. Then abruptly, he spun on his heels, a perfect 180 towards Quatre's position leaning on a tree pathetically dripping wet and teeth chattering.

 

Wufei stalked up to Quatre, giving a quick look to his drenched position and let some of the anger leave. Wufei reminded himself he went in the water to save Quatre, not get into a fight with his boyfriend's friend. "Take your shirt off, it's soaked and you'll freeze." He ordered a bit gently. Grabbing the hem of the baggy purple-gray sweatshirt, he twisted it up and over his head, hanging it on the tree limb. "It's warm."

 

There stood Wufei, again deep blue nylon pants hanging low on his thin hips and a shirt that bared only an inch or two of hip and clung the rest of the way up. But this time Quatre had to gape again. The shirt had no sleeves and no shoulders, just tapering up to the high neck. He couldn't tell from his position, but he guessed it had no back. It was a style Quatre had seen many girls wear, but never a boy!

 

Wufei straightened and flared one side of his hip out like a girl giving that "I'm pissed" look and starred down Milly. "Don't ever call me that again, Zechs. Or I swear to God I'll make it impossible for you to piss standing up." And Quatre knew he was deadly serious.

 

Turing on his heels, Wufei stalked into the forest without another look back.

 

But Quatre was proven right. The shirt was backless, leaving Wufei's shoulders and expanse of slightly tanned flesh showing. And it was showing the intricate tattoo of scaled wings starting at his spine at his shoulder blades and touching the tips of his shoulders, until the black nylon of the shirt came together at his midsection covering the bottom of the tattoo.

 

After the few seconds needed to get over the shock and go back to what needed to be done, Quatre shed his soaked shirt, the pants already drying quickly being of a special water resistant material, and left the manly black T-shirt to hang off the tree limb. Deciding once the first wind hit him and caused his flesh to prickle up, he grabbed for the Wufei's sweater and tossed it on as quickly as possible, rubbing his arms together for warmth even as his hair dripped wetness down the back of his neck.

 

Letting out a sneeze, a wave of shivers overcame him and he decided one more thing. The God he had upset wasn't happy with him now. He just gave him a respite to make today even worse.