*...* denotes thought
~~~ indicates flashbacks or scene breaks
Embrace The Night Part 7
Earth, Sank Kingdom AC 199
The darkness of the night was complete, secure in its tenuous hold of the few hours alloted to it. The moon was at its beginning phase, no more than a slender sliver of light, attempting to feebly illuminate the world that lay beneath it, failing miserably. The evening was still, the creatures of the night barely stirred, content instead to languish in a sleepy ennui.
The grounds of the royal palace of the Sank Kingdom were quiet, the few souls still awake hardly making a dent in the oppressive silence that surrounded the impressive symbol of wealth and power. There were no guards to protect the palace, a foolish notion in itself, but appropriate for a country that defined its existence by the rules of pacifism. Ironic, considering that the same said kingdom was now the temporary host for six weapons of mass destruction. But as it was, there were no guards to sound the alert when the peaceful facade of the palace was invaded.
Melding with the shadows of darkness, the vague, obscure form darted between the obstacles on the lawn, intent on its destination. Pausing every few feet to listen for any sounds of approaching footsteps, the figure continued to make its way to the west wing of the palace. Finding nothing hindering its progress, it slipped quietly into the silent palace, secure in the knowledge that its presence was still unknown.
Unfortunately for the intruder, a pair of impassive cobalt blue eyes had been watching from a balcony, keeping as silent as the night.
~~~
Violet eyes peered down at him, laughter and love sparkling in the amaryllis depths.
A voice, rich and husky with feeling, filled his world, eclipsing all other sounds.
Gentle lips moved across his, firm in their resolve, insistent in their goal.
Wandering hands trailed a sensuous path down his torso, awareness tingling through every pore.
A whispered promise skittered across his mind, words blazing in his memory.
"I love you... I will love you forever, beloved..."
~~~
Heero bolted upright in his bed, the silken sheets bunched around his waist, damp with his sweat. As the flashes from his dream rebounded along his memory, his body shuddered as foreign, yet achingly familiar sensations shot through his nerve endings, tendrils of white lightning racing through his system.
Heero growled under his breath, his mind a swirling mass of confusion. He did not understand, nor did he know where these dreams were sprouting from, what was giving birth to these random thoughts. Perhaps some hidden area in his brain, previously unknown to him, was dredging up fantasies with which to boggle his mind and reality.
Sending dreams to one who had no use for such frivolities.
Dreams that were feeling more like forgotten memories with each passing night.
"Damn it..." With that muttered curse, Heero stumbled out of bed and made his way across the bedroom to the adjoining bathroom. Allowing cool water to gather in the marble basin, he splashed the refreshing liquid on his flushed skin.
His flesh, still overheated from the arousing sensations of his dreams, prickled in the night wind that wafted through the open windows. Heero made his way to the French style, floor length windows, ignoring the lure of the moonlight dappled bed. He denied the tiny part of his being that ached to return to his dreams, to return to his shadow lover.
Such temptations held no significance to soldiers bred for battle.
At least, that was the truth that Dr. J had spent the past few years pounding into him.
The dark haired, blue-eyed pilot of the Gundam Wing stepped out onto the balcony, into the cool caress of the night. Allowing the rejuvenating breeze to cool his flesh, his mind began to wander over the recent events that had unfolded over the past few days, including the vexing topic at hand.
His dreams.
They were increasing. Not only were the details becoming more vivid, the clarity becoming more precise, but the intensity within the dreams was becoming stronger. Their frequency was growing as well, as was the pace. It almost seemed like the dreams were racing to completion, towards some unknown goal or knowledge that, for now, eluded him.
The most disconcerting result of his dreams was the strange feeling of familiarity he was experiencing with concern to his fellow Gundam pilots. For some reason, a part of his mind felt like he knew them... especially the pilot of Gundam Deathscythe.
The violet eyes of the braided soldier were almost an exact match for the eyes in his dreams. In fact, Heero thought they just might be an exact match.
And if that was the case, it left two questions to his mind:
1) why was he dreaming of his partner's eyes? And
2) what was he going to do about it?
As he continued to stare out in the night sky, he allowed his mental argument to escalate. A part of him, the part that Dr. J had tempered and trained, argued to destroy this weak link, to eliminate this obstacle. This was a weakness he did not need and it would hinder the mission, something that did not bear any consideration.
However, the other part of him argued that there was a reason behind the dreams, and behind the connection to his new partner. It asked, no... pleaded with him to figure out the link, to solve the puzzle. It offered him a whispered promise of satisfaction should he complete the riddle and find his answer.
Allowing his troubled thoughts to continue to roll about his head, Heero glanced down at the dimly lit lawnscape of the Peacecraft palace. His vision was just swift enough to catch the fleeting shadow that darted across the greenery, heading towards the estate.
His eyes narrowed, turning into slits of cobalt blue, glittering in the moonlight. The figure moved with an almost predatory grace, quiet and sure, the movements too light to belong to one of the pilots he had met before.
He watched silently as the shadow disappeared from his view, heading into the palace. As soon as the figure was out of sight, Heero darted back into his room, pausing only briefly to snatch up his hand gun.
For the present, all thoughts pertaining to his personal traumas would have to be put on hold, at least until the intruder had been dealt with. After peace had returned for the night, there would be plenty of time to bash his brains in, searching for an answer which had managed to elude him all this time and one that he doubted even existed.
But, for some reason, one that he hoped he would be able to find.
But for now, he had a partner to awaken and an intruder to stop.
~~~
Unaware of the drama unfolding above, Duo and the other vampires were completing their nightly feeding. Due to the fact that they were surrounded by mortals, the hunters were forced to hide their natures until the safe cover of evening fell and their activities were hidden from prying eyes.
Duo sighed and swiped his hand across his mouth, licking the traces of blood away from his fingers. He glanced down at the empty goblet that sat in front of him, giving another mournful sigh.
Swirling the fine crystal between slender fingers, he propped his head on his other hand and watched as the clear surface reflected the soft candlelight. Without ceasing his motions or moving his body, he flicked his gaze over to his companions, his eyes lazily observing.
Weary with his quiet observations, he plunked the goblet back onto the table, and leaned backwards in his chair, his arms folded behind his head. He turned his eyes up to the ceiling, gazing at the ornate decor of the borders of the room, while he broke the silence.
"Oi, as marvelously preserved as your stock is, Zechs, I still prefer my dinner warm and with a pulse."
Zechs turned his piercing blue gaze on the braided immortal and said dryly, "Shall I toss it into the heater for you, Duo?"
Duo's face twisted into a grimace of disgust as he retorted, "The only thing worse than cold blood is reheated blood. Ugh." Duo shuddered to emphasize his point.
Quatre set his goblet down with a light ping, his own visage set in an expression of gentle reproach. "Duo, please. You know that we can ill afford to draw further attention to ourselves as it is. Having six Gundam pilots in one kingdom is bad enough. We don't need to add to the panic with five separate, unexplainable attacks occuring as well. Besides, we can't be too picky about where we get our sustenance."
Duo had the grace to look remorseful as he murmured, "Gomen, Quatre. I'm just restless. Something's stirring, and I can't figure out what it is."
Murmurs of assent and agreement spread like wildfire through the gathered immortals, each implying that he too felt the disturbance in the air. Some previously hidden Power was stirring; changing and altering the events that were slowly unfolding.
Wufei's gaze remained hard and impassive, although his voice took on an introspective tone, almost wondering. "It almost seems like we're playing the roles of pawns in some game. A game in which we have no control nor do we know the rules."
Zechs nodded his head, solemn now, all hints of teasing gone. "Hai. The last time I felt this way, it was..."
Zechs' voice broke off, his gaze flitting down to the table. His previously relaxed posture had gone rigid as unbidden memories rose to the surface of his mind. The only outward result of his inner turmoil was the sudden firming of his lips, and his tightly clenched fists going white at the knuckles.
Even though he didn't finish his statement, the other vampires knew what he meant. After all, they had each played an integral role in the last game that saw all five immortals working together. A game in which two of their numbers had almost been lost.
Duo attempted to break the tension, but he failed miserably. Each time he attempted to voice a quick quip, his brain quickly deleted the thought. Each joke or interjection was efficiently dismissed as being too cold, or too callous, or just plain inappropriate for the situation. Too much negativity was roaming around the enclosed room.
Finally, with a slump of his shoulders, Duo sighed and murmured, "It's strange, but we're all together again. Even H- H- Heero... is..." Duo's voice broke several times as he tried to say his partner's name, hitching on the first syllable and betraying the emotional agitation he was currently experiencing.
Wordlessly, Trowa rose from his chair, moving with animal like grace to Duo's side. He lay one slender hand on Duo's shoulder, a quiet attempt at comfort through a light physical touch. Even though he gave no outward thanks, Trowa knew that Duo appreciated the gesture. As he continued to stand at Duo's side, giving the braided vampire a moment to regain his cracking composure, Trowa raised his green eyed gaze and gave his lover a fleeting glance.
With the barest of nods, Quatre silently agreed with Trowa's silent message. Leaning back in his chair with a deceptively casual pose, Quatre turned his azure gaze upwards and mused outloud.
"Hmm, I remember that story you told me, Duo. You know, the one where you and Heero first met? I believe you said he was living in an orphanage for awhile and that he couldn't walk? However, when we first met him, he was capable of walking and much more. What happened?"
Wufei and Zechs immediately knew what Quatre was up too. In attempting to get Duo's mind off of the current situation between him and pilot 01, the blond Original was forcing the younger immortal to remember his previous life and the good times they had. Keeping their peace, the two partners settled in for a tale they had not had the pleasure of hearing before.
Trowa quietly regained his seat, keeping his careful gaze on Duo. The pilot of the Gundam Deathscythe had regained his shaky disposition and was gazing into space, his eyes cloudy with memories. Memories that were almost 100 years old, but still seemed as fresh in his mind as if they had occurred just the day before.
"I remember - "
~~~
Colony L1 AC 81
For Heero, the hours of the day passed with agonizing slowness. Bound to his chair by his physical limitations, there were not many activities he could do to pass the time. He had little companionship, as there were not many boys his age at the orphanage. He loved to read, and painting was one of his hidden passions, but both were leisurely activities, neither of which helped the time to pass swiftly.
Sometimes one or more of the Sisters would come and pass a short time period with him, but more often than not the nuns were too busy with activities around the orphanage to devote all their time to one of their tenants. Not that it mattered, for Heero yearned for nothing more than a swift end to the daylight hours. For Duo would come with the darkness.
Heero was the only boy in the orphanage who had his own room, a fact that had gone unappreciated until now. The nuns had made excuses that it was because Heero was the oldest of the children at the orphanage, and that it was difficult to carry his chair up and down the winding stairs of the aging building. But Heero knew better. They had given him his own room because most likely he would be spending the rest of his life in their care. A sad fact, but one that Heero had quietly accepted years ago as he watched one child after another leave the nuns and the orphanage for a new life.
It had hurt at first. It had been painful to watch as one couple after another came to the home, only to pass him by with hardly a thought when they realized he was crippled. Heero didn't blame them for wanting younger children, youngsters whose thoughts and values could be molded to fit those of their adopted parents. Nor could he blame them for wanting children who were whole.
But it had hurt just the same.
But what did it matter now? Now he had a companion who came with the shadows of the night, to fill the darkness up with the light that was missing from the day.
Heero sat in his bed, a single candle illuminating his small but comfortable room. He heard the clock in the hall chime the hours, heard the muffled voices of the nuns as they herded the other children to their beds.
Gradually the house fell silent. A few hours passed, each marked with the solemn chimes of the hall clock. Heero frowned as he realized the growing lateness of the hour.
Questions flew through his mind, doubts beginning to sprout. Had he forgotten? Or simply changed his mind? Maybe he had never meant to come again and had neglected to tell him.
Heero was about to extinguish the light and lose himself in the oblivion of his dream world when he felt a breeze whisper past his cheek. Glancing over his slim shoulder, he saw a now familiar shape outlined against the veranda doors.
"Duo! You came!"
The familiar lilt filled the room, casting warmth where coldness had once roamed. "I said I would, didn't I? And I may run and hide, but I never lie."
Heero smiled even as he crinkled his nose at Duo's now familiar, if somewhat corny, motto. He nodded his dark head with enthusiasm, even as he patted the side of his small bed in welcome.
Needing no further invitation, the braided man glided into the room and sat carefully on the bed, mindful of its current occupant. He turned and smiled at the boy, his violet eyes sparkling and luminous, catching and holding a matching set of cobalt blue. Helpless to resist, Heero gazed into his amaryllis depths.
Fathomless eyes that seemed to see into his soul and beyond.
Eyes that were filled with an immeasurable anguish that went much deeper than sorrow.
Abruptly, Duo rose to his feet, as if he feared that Heero had seen more than he should. With a fluid movement, he reached into the black cloak he habitually wore, his hand reappearing with a small, furry object.
"For you," he said.
Heero's eyes lit up, even as he gazed at the childish object. Eagerly reaching for it, he clutched the teddy bear close to his chest, holding it tightly like it was his most cherished possession. He raised eyes bright with happiness and said, "I love it. Thank you so much!"
The bear was perfect, not a strand of fur matted or marred. The black eyes were proportioned correctly, placed above an adorable button nose. A broad red ribbon encircled the bear's neck, neatly tied in a charming bow.
Although the bear was probably meant for a young girl, or at least a younger child, Heero still cherished it. Cherished it because it was one of the few presents he had ever received, but cherished it more so because it came from HIM.
Duo's expression filled with some emotion that Heero had never before seen on the braided man's face, one that filled his soul with a tenderness and a yearning for something he didn't understand. Yet, even as Heero attempted to understand the newly created emotions raging through his system, his subconsciousness realized that Duo was moving to go for the night.
Desperate to keep the braided man with him for a bit longer, he tentatively asked a question. "Could you tell me a story?" came the innocent request.
"I'm not much of a story teller," Duo remarked and then, seeing the disappointment creeping into the blue eyes, he acquiesced with a slight nod. He settled back onto the bed, Heero's smaller body cuddled up close like the teddy bear the boy still clutched in his arms.
"Many years ago, back when humans only lived on Earth, there was a young man. He came from a very large family, but a very poor family. He was fifteen when a mysterious illness rampaged through his village, claiming the lives of everyone. The young man was the only survivor and he had to leave the village.
"For many years, he traveled the land, and then, when he was three and twenty, he met a woman, and for the first time in his life, he fell in love. So much in love that he never questioned who she was, or why she would only see him at night.
"And then one day he contracted a fever, and he knew he was going to die the same horrible death that had claimed each of his family members. Though he was loathe to admit it, he feared death.
"The woman he loved came to him, and he, weeping from pain and fear, begged her to save him.
"'I can do it,' she said, 'I can do as you wish, but the price will be dear.'
"'Anything,' he said.
"'And if the price is your soul, will you still pay it?'
"Foolish man that he was, he agreed. And the woman, whom he had first believed to be an angel, carried him away and entrapped him in a dance of darkness. When he woke up again, he realized he'd struck a bargain, not with an angel, but with a devil. And though he would now live forever, he would never live at all."
"I don't understand," Heero said frowning. "Who was the man? Who was the woman? How could he live forever, but not live at all?"
"It's only an old fairy tale, Heero," Duo answered, his voice soft with remembered regret.
Heero turned his gaze up to Duo, gazing at his profile, seeing a proud warrior in tarnished armor, a quiet soul burdened with memories of the past. He had no idea how long he stared at the braided man before he realized that Duo had stopped talking.
Their eyes locked and held for an immeasurable count of minutes before Duo suddenly surged to his feet. Duo reached for his cloak that he had tossed off, the dark wool swirled around him like the fog of a dark night, and then he was gone.
"Duo?" Heero blinked several times, wondering if he had, indeed, dreaming the entire scenario. However, the solid, yet soft, presence of the bear in his arms denied that thought. He brought the bear up to his cheek, nuzzling the soft fur.
He hadn't imagined it.
~~~
Duo melted into the rising mists of darkness, welcoming the cold of the night. He had told the boy of his beginnings, a brief recount of the events of his mortal life, and the child had stolen into his heart, catching a glimpse of Duo's long denied soul. Surely the boy had seen the darkness there, the emptiness that was deeper and blacker than any creature whispered about.
Why hadn't the child been afraid?
Others, countless dozens who had come before, had looked in his eyes and run away in fear. Those who had not run fast enough, or far enough, had paid the price with their lives. Still, there were always those who had been enraptured with his unusual orbs, who dared to dance the waltz with death. But they had all done so with hints of fear, searching for the ultimate thrill.
Why hadn't this one been afraid?
Duo could feel anger rising in him, and with it the lust for blood, the urge to kill and drown himself in mindless violence. He tried to ignore the call to hunt, but on this particular night, the hunger would not be denied.
Growling under his breath, he prowled the nearly deserted streets until he found what he was looking for. A homeless drunkard lying in the stinking refuse of the streets, forgotten blight on humanity, lying unconscious in an alleyway.
Like the angel of death he proclaimed to be, he hovered over the man. His black cloak, chosen just for this purpose, shrouded them both in a darkness as silent as death.
~~~
Sated, yet filled with self loathing for the animal he was, Duo stormed into the long - neglected monastery where he had made his home for the past thirteen years. It was dark and gloomy inside, the perfect dwelling for a creature of darkness such as he.
He had found it ironic at first, that one as cursed as he should dwell within the once sacred walls. That a place that had been the home of hundreds of righteous, God - fearing men should now be inhabitated by one of the fallen.
However, a question still remained on his busy mind, overshadowing all other thoughts.
Why hadn't he been afraid?
He dropped into the huge, high - backed chair he had taken for his own. For the first time in decades, he was filled with self - loathing for who and what he was. What right did he have to survive at the cost of another's life? What right did he have to inflict his presence on a child as pure as Heero? Heero would be horrified if he knew what manner of creature came to him in the dark of the night.
He stared at the blood that stained his hands and matted his braid. He knew he could not see him again.
~~~
Images flashed through his mind, piercing the cloak of insensibility that often hung over him in sleep. Scattered images of dancing flames, of woman weeping hysterically, of frightened children crying. Pain seared through his consciousness, excruciating, nauseating pain.
He fought through the layers of oblivion, his gaze opening on darkness. Immediately he was aware that it was still daylight outside, and for a second of thought he lay in his coffin, confusion running rampant through his mind. Never before had anything save the threat of destruction disturbed his sleep, the heavy lethargy that weighed him down in the light of day.
Heero!
Duo knew in that moment that the boy's life was in danger, that the pain he had felt had been Heero's pain. His hands clenched at his sides as he tried to rise. It was like trying to claw his way out of quicksand, impossible to do yet imperative to try. However, he failed, and he fell back, breathing heavily, fear making his heart beat fast.
Heero!
His mind screamed the name, as if the pure force behind the one word could cause the sun to hide, allowing the night precedence. The boy was hurt, perhaps even dying, and there was nothing he could do until the safety of the evening fell.
He had never before felt so helpless, yet his thoughts were on the other even as the darkness began to drag him back. Whispering a quick prayer up to the forsaken heavens, he beseeched the powers above to spare the boy's life.
"Please, please, please."
He repeated that single word, over and over again, even as he slipped into oblivion.
~~~
Duo vaulted the wall of the orphanage with ease, crossed the grounds as silent as a shadow. Pausing on the veranda door, he peered inside. Heero lay beneath a heavy quilt, as still as death.
The complete absence of sound within the room echoed in his heart like thunder.
A wave of his hand and the window doors opened, allowing him to step into the room. One inside the familiar walls, he rushed to Heero's side.
He silently gazed down at the boy, his face filled with compassion and pity. The blistered skin on boy's arms, his hands. Duo drew the quilt back, tears welling in his violet eyes as he took in the ugly burns on the boy's slender chest, his torso, and his legs. Miraculously, the boy's face had been spared, the lovely portrait the only unmarked area on the boy's body.
He moaned then, a soft cry of agony that tore at the very edges of Duo's soul. Duo placed his fingertips against the pulse in Heero's throat, a ragged breath catching in his own. The pulse was so very faint, so very slow. It was clear, especially to one who was an expert in such matters. Heero was dying.
Duo gritted his teeth together even as one word escaped his lips. "No!"
He could not allow the boy to die, he dared not. Heero had been the only reason for his continued existence, his only link back to the world when he had been on the verge of self destructing. If the boy died, Duo knew he would be soon to follow.
Without stopping to think of right or wrong, without pausing to consider the ramifications or consequences, Duo opened the vein in his wrist, parted the boy's lips, and let his blood drip into Heero's mouth.
"Drink, Heero," he quietly urged, even though he knew that Heero couldn't hear him.
He watched as one drop fell into Heero's mouth, then a second, followed by a dozen more. How much would be enough to save the boy's life, without forcing him over the brink or making him a Reverent?
When he had deemed that Heero had had enough, he withdrew his wrist, closing the wound with a quick pass of his tongue and a brief burst of Power. Gathering the unconscious boy in his arms, he sat on the bed, cradling the light form and holding him through the night. It was a simple enough trick to ensure that the room would remain undisturbed, a small outpouring of Power implanting the thought in all minds present to leave the small room alone.
As he finished, he briefly apologized to the boy, even as he delved into Heero's mind. With growing horror, he realized what had caused the burn marks on the boy's form.
The orphanage had taken a field trip to a small function in a local school, a play of sorts. Once in the building, a small fire had started, one that quickly blazed out of control. Heero's legs had once again been a hindrance, allowing the fire to burn him before he had been rescued. Duo briefly tasted the helplessness that Heero had felt in the situation, the growing horror as the fire had edged closer, his lungs becoming overpowered by the cloying smoke.
Duo broke free from the images, returning to the present. He cradled Heero's body with a tighter grip, counting down the hours before he would be driven from the small room by the rising sun. Even as he sat there, he listened as Heero's erratic breathing evened out, the moans of pain becoming fewer in number. Before his very eyes, the sores and burns that marred the young skin were beginning to heal, to become less raw.
He thanked whatever forces had been watching over the boy that his blood was helping. Just how much, he had yet to learn.
~~~
Earth, Sank Kingdom AC 199
The other vampires sat back with stunned expressions as Duo wrapped up his brief tale. Having heard it once already, Trowa and Quatre were not too surprised, but Wufei and Zechs were stunned into speechlessness.
Duo himself was caught up in the remembering, his voice now silent. His gaze was focused, unseeing, on the table top, the crystal goblet once more being twirled by his slender fingers.
With one last statement, he looked up at the others and said, "So you see? It was my blood that helped to heal the burns from the fire, and later we learned that the blood had healed his infirmary, allowing strength to flow in his previously weak legs."
Duo chuckled under his breath, still caught up in his reminiscing. The others had to strain, even with their superior hearing, to catch his whispered words. "If I ever had a reason to be grateful for the Dark Gift, it was seeing the happiness in Heero's eyes once he discovered that he could stand and walk."
Silence reigned in the small room, not the uncomfortable quiet of before, but rather an introspective and meditative silence.
After a few moments had passed, Quatre cleared his throat, intending to speak. However, an explosion that rocked the palace, effectively cut the blond off.
The five immortal men looked at each other with dawning horror on their faces before they were spurred into action, heading for the source of the blast.
As they ran in a solid group, thoughts flew fast and furious, telepathy aiding the men.
*Shit! There's an intruder in the palace!*
*Yes. And fighting too. I can hear the blades ringing against each other.*
*Did anyone else hear gun shots?*
*Bastard! How could an intruder slip past the defenses?!*
*What defenses? The people of the Sank Kingdom are the epitome of pacifism, remember?*
As the men hurried to the source of the explosion, Duo's thoughts became intent on the battle that loomed before them. Even though it hadn't been said, he knew who was fighting the intruder. Terror ran through his being even as another explosion rocked the palace.
*Shit! Heero, you'd better be damned careful, baka! I WON'T lose you a second time! Not now... it's too soon!*
~~~
Heero snarled under his breath as he faced the shadow attacker he had encountered. His eyes were narrowed into slits of blue, coldly intent on challenging the intruder.
He had rushed from his bedroom, to the entrance the intruder had used to gain entry to the estate. He had briefly stopped at the bedchamber that his partner had been given, only to receive no answer with his knock. A brief foray into the room had revealed his partner's absence.
Not having the time to ponder this new problem, he had set off for the intruder, intent on stopping him or her at all costs.
He had been passing by the chambers given to the newest set of pilots, pilot 05 and pilot 06 when a shadow had captured his attention, drawing him to a halt. The shadow had detached itself from the darkness, the curved blade in one hand reflecting the faint candlelight in the hallway.
Heero had challenged the intruder, determined to protect his mission to the death. It was his only reason for being alive, the completion of his missions, and he wasn't about to let some two bit assassin threaten the agenda. Not without a fight.
However, with the first few passes, Heero had known something was wrong. His opponent didn't fight in a modern style of combat, rather in one that vaguely reminded him of ancient feudal clans of China. Caught in another disadvantage, all Heero had was his handgun and a small dagger with which to defend himself. He had hardly thought it impossible when his adversary had managed to avoid his six shots. He had been sure that they were on the mark and had hit.
But the would be assassin was still fighting.
Heero had managed to survive up to now with just a few minor, inconsequential scratches, but he was tiring fast. Too many restless nights were catching up to him, slowing his quick reflexes enough to be caught in careless mistakes.
Heero ground his teeth against one another as he prepared for his next pass. However, he never managed to attack.
An explosion from behind caught the perfect soldier by surprise, throwing him off of his feet. Searing pain screamed up and down his back and spine, fiery tendrils of agony racing through his system.
As his body flew through the air, hitting the floor hard, he could feel the beckoning fingers of darkness looming through his mind. His mind hardly registered the second explosion as unconsciousness began to fog his vision.
As he slipped into the numbness, the last image seared onto his mind was of the shadowy figure of his attacker looming over him, bright blade arcing high to deliver the final blow.
TBC...
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