09-Jun-2000
Title: Dream
Author: AKI
Archive: Tyr, at GWing Addiction. ^^ Since you approved this format
I'll go right on using it!
Category: Blatant (well, for me) sap, which is generally synonymous
with OOC...
Pairing: 1+2
Rating: None.
Warnings: More two a.m. writing--these days I can't get on the
computer at any other time. I'm gonna pay for this one
tomorrow...Oh,
and I kinda threw reality to the winds...hope that doesn't bother
ya...
Notes: There isn't any excuse for this, except the fact that I wanted to
write it...oh what the heck. The inner sap in me demands it.
Spoilers: Not that I'm aware of.
Notes: Someday I'll get around to writing my epic 4x3/3x4. Until
then, these 1x2 moments will keep on hitting me upside the noggin.
Feedback: C&C begged for. Shamelessly, in fact.
Disclaimers: Ahh, GWing. What I would do to own it...What I would do
if I did. *grin*
Someday, I swear, I'll get around to finding myself a cushy little spot in the Pacific Islands. It'll be perfect weather every day of the year, palm trees and breezes galore. The sun will shine in the day and the stars'll shine at night and the sea and sky will both be so blue that it hurts your eyes to look at them. When that day comes, I won't do anything but lie back in a hammock and get some rest. Between this war and him, I've definitely earned it. Ten times over.
Until then, I better concentrate on keeping myself alive. Goddamn but those Ozzies never say die. Which is all fine and good because that's my lin--
Consciousness...I feel it seeping back to me like water through a crack. I don't particularly want it, either, because somehow I know that just behind it is PAIN. I can't feel the hurt yet but I can feel the throbbing. No fun for me, it spells, just one sore--"Itee!" I rub the back of my head *very gingerly* and of course, the fingers are smeared and sticky when I bring them under my nose for inspection. Be lucky if I don't have a concussion--man, it hurts to breathe.
Where the hell am I? It's dark. On the console a lone red light flashes in forlorn rhythm. Console...Deathscythe, that's where I am. And damned if I'm not upside down--or nearly so, anyway. What in the name of the colonies happened?
Oh, right. I was fighting. Or more accurately, I was daydreaming.
I let out a snort of disgust--what kind of a pilot can't keep his mind on the battle long enough to get out of harm's way? That's what he would say, anyhow. Ch'. Who needs him and his close-mouthed foul-tempered ways? What I need is to get out of here.
Just as soon as I figure out where here is. Right. I ignore my aching head as well as I'm able and go to work freeing myself. After a minute of struggle I manage to free myself from the tangled straps, tumbling against the side panel a little less gently than I would have liked. It takes me a few more minutes of standing with my neck hunched at an awkward angle to get Deathscythe's back-up circuits up and running, or at least enough for me to get a feel for the damage. It wouldn't hurt to be able to open the hatch either.
Magnificent. Howard's not gonna like these numbers one bit. I can hear him now--"The best piece of engineering this side of the galaxy and you go and destroy it in your wild rampage" and so forth. Well, so much for flying this baby out of here. I'll be happy if it just stays in one piece until I can haul it to the garage. Or find Wing. Whichever comes first. Hn--wouldn't hurt him to get a taste of his own medicine for once. Teach him to salvage from my mecha!
I open the hatch and look out. No wonder it was so dark, dusk has already fallen. The night sky's sitting right on top of the last vestiges of sunset. Better haul ass if I want to get my bearings. I clamber on top of the Gundam's chest. All around me are trees--hells, I'm in the middle of a freakin' forest. And on the side of a mountain, at that. How did that happen? I sit down and try to pull my wits together. It's harder than it sounds, as it feels like some of them were permanently knocked loose by the fall.
The fall--that's it! They came after us, and I hopped into Deathscythe. I figured Heero wouldn't be too distracted if I started trying to slow them down a little. The cargo hatch was plenty big enough to shoot through. A little too big, apparently, or I wouldn't have gotten my ass knocked through it. There's no way it was anything but pure dumb luck--a sharp turn on my dear fellow pilot's part, and a stray shot on theirs, and out I went, tumbling towards the ground. The only thing that saved me was the fact that I actually managed to flip on my thrusters--in the right direction, no less--and we hadn't gotten too high yet.
So here I am, ten miles from what used to be an OZ base, in the middle of a stinkin' forest twiddling my thumbs. Boy, would he be cracking up right about now. If he knew how to laugh, that is. Well, things could be worse. I've got a map and our next rendezvous point, and I can still walk. With any luck I'll even catch a ride. I throw the camouflage net over Deathscythe and start off. If I don't get back in time to keep OZ from getting their filthy hands on my aibou, there'll be Hell to pay. But I can't worry about that just yet--I need to find the others. With good old fashioned bipedal locomotion and a little help from locals (or their parking lots), and assuming I can find a civvy airport, it'll take me two days to reach them, tops.
I could always hitchhike; someone always lets me on. And lucky me. I've even got a whole four hours before I reach the highway to come up with a plausible story.
I couldn't very well have someone drive me to the door of our safehouse. So I jogged the last twenty miles on my own. And after stowing away for seven hours in the cramped upper cabins of a passenger jet, my muscles weren't exactly pleased. After a while I just stopped thinking and set my legs to autopilot. It hurt less that way.
I stumble into the building, chilled, sore, and weary to the bone. There are so many things I want to do--eat, take a shower, dress my wound, go back for my Gundam--but more than anything I just want to flop down on the floor and sleep for days. I realize that Gundams aren't that easy to hide, but I wish we could snag cozier accommodations. Not that I haven't seen worse than a warehouse floor. I bet he's curled up on the cement in a corner somewhere snoring contentedly away. Not that he would let himself snore. Not that he knows how to be content.
I turn around a few times, the motions thick with fatigue, looking for some place a little more discreet to throw myself down. And as I do, a voice jumps out of the darkness from behind me.
"Nani mono?"
Lovely way to greet someone who narrowly escaped the Jaws of Death, don't you think? And I bet he's got a gun pointed straight at my head too, but who cares? I'm too damn tired to even squint. "Heero. Omae ka?"
Silence. Crap, maybe it's not him. I turn around and face--whoever he is-- trying to pretend that I've still got some fight left in me. I feel like somebody's grandmother could kill me right about now, but hells, he would do it. Then again, he would also gnaw his ankle off if he had to. I'm jolted out of that particularly unpleasant image by the sound of metal clattering against the ground.
The open door lets in one square of moonlight that falls sharply on the floor. He steps into it, and even though everything's a tired blur, I can tell that he's moving kinda funny. Sort of...hesitant.
"Duo..." I don't believe it. He actually sounds surprised. I managed to surprise the Perfect Soldier, woohoo. If I had the energy I'd clap and cheer.
"Yep."
"You're...alive." Still shell-shocked, at least for him. From anyone else it would sound like mild curiosity.
"Yep."
He stares at me for a moment, then something--I don't know, the eyes maybe, or the mouth--tightens and the whole face goes hard. He asks in a different tone, "Where's the Gundam?"
"I left it back where I crashed. Needs repairs and transportation. I'll retreive it as soon as I've got some sleep." I yawned right through those last few words. Training nothing. Sixty hours without shuteye and either I was going to bed, or I was going to die.
He didn't say anything else, and after sagging upright for a moment more I began to shuffle off into the darkness. Screw a discreet space, I'll settle for a wall. And then--just like that, I feel arms go around me and *ack* tighten.
It must be him but it can't be him and he's holding me like he'll never let me go right in this patch of moonlight on the concrete floor. Oh, Jesus Christ, Mother Mary, all the Saints-- dear God. His arms are around me and I can feel his chest pressed against my back and I look down and I see his hands, pale in the light, clenched into fists. You'd think that *that* would wake me up, Heero Yuy whom I hate and love and can't get out of my head, holding me. But all I can think is that it's a dream. Either that or he's going to kill me. If he is, who cares? I can feel his heart beating through his shirt.
This isn't real. Even though I can feel his warmth, damn near can't breathe for his arms around my chest, this can't be real. Everything is so blurry and the floor I swear is rolling even though the world is standing still; it has to be a dream. The best damn dream I ever had.
My eyes are shut tight, have been for a while--five seconds, ten years?--and I won't open them. If I do maybe I'll wake up from the dream and something will shatter. Maybe he won't be there or maybe the world will explode, I can't even decide which would be worse. Then I realize that it doesn't matter. This moment is real and I'll have it forever.
"Next time," he says, and I can't believe that there could still be sound, "next time, make it back earlier."
~owari
OK, why do I always write "Duo isn't really dead" fics? I figure it's a kind of counter to all the wonderfully terrible death fics I read. Plus, I just can't bring myself to believe that my beloved God of Death could ever die. ^_~ After all, he and Hee-chan have to live happily ever after!
~a very sleepy AKI yori
PS: Sorry all the sap's just in that one bit at the end. I guess I couldn't bring myself to go all out. ^^;;
(:./aki/dream)
