Author: Alana Winters
Warnings: Yaoi, AU, wildly OOC, some existing GW facts will be horribly twisted, strong language.
Disclaimers: Gundam Wing does not, never has, and never will belong to me (although not for lack of dreaming or wishing). Neither does Mermaid Forest/Scar/Mask. They belong to their rightful owners and since I am a student, suing me will gain you naught but headaches.
Pairings: 1x2/2x1, 3x4x5 (a trio!! 0.0)
C&C welcome, although flames will be efficiently and maniacally cheerfully extinguished.
Feedback please! alanawinters@yahoo.com or visit web site at www.geocities.com/alanawinters/entrance.html
*...* denotes thought
------ lines between these symbols denots a brief flashback
This is a fusion, not a crossover attempt, with Mermaid Forest/Scar/Mask, my version #1 of what makes Heero Yuy such a Perfect Soldier and why no matter how many times he attempts it, he never dies when he self destructs. As it is in this timeline, there is no Peacecraft family and Relena is not known to the boys as of yet. She of course, will be making her debut later on. Enjoy!!!
Gundam Forest Book 1: A Mermaid Never Smiles Prologue
Duo, Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei lay huddled together in the cold dark prison of the Romefeller foundation. Their hands were manacled behind their backs, restricting their movement, and ensuring their prolonged captivity. The soldiers of the OZ foundation had given them a pretty fair beating, they all had black and blue bruises marking their arms, legs, and faces.
Duo's braid lay in a ratty mess, stringing limply down his hunched back. His upper lip was split, his mouth had gotten the best of him when the OZ soldiers had attacked.
Trowa's bangs couldn't hide his black eye, that was swelling and starting to turn purple and blue.
Wufei's once neat ponytail was non existent, his hair now fell around his face creating a black curtain. His head was bowed in shame that the enemy had managed to defeat his honor and sword of justice.
Quatre was whimpering pitifully, his breathing ragged and hitched. The soldiers had kicked the living daylights out of the shorter pilot, breaking or at least cracking several of his ribs. Quatre's face was white with the pain that shot through his body with each breath.
Other than the occasional whimpers of pain from Quatre that Wufei and Trowa each attempted to comfort gently, their hearts aching with their lover's aches, though they could do little about it, there were no other sounds in the small prison.
Wufei and Trowa looked at each other, alternating between comforting Quatre and glancing worriedly over at the braided pilot. Duo had not said a single word since the soldiers had thrown the pilots into the cell, his silence was as unnerving as it was unnatural.
Although none would have admitted it, Duo was the stress relief in the small group of close friends. Though they constantly teased him about the amount of chatter the small pilot could convey, they had come to rely on it as comforting and background noise. Its absence was worrisome.
Usually, even if they were in a similar despairing situation, Duo would have some sort of loose glib or quip to make, in an attempt to lighten the gloom, or he would be making as much of a fuss as he was allowed to make over his koibito and fellow pilot, Heero.
But Duo couldn't make a fuss over Heero now...
Because Heero was dead...
Shot in the back of his head by a cowardly OZ soldier and his body had been completely riddled with bullets by the other soldiers right in front of them...
They had seen him fall... the pool of blood growing around his body...
Not even the Perfect Soldier Yuy could survive that...
This time Heero REALLY was dead...
And the pilots knew it was only a matter of time before Duo snapped and would follow his lover into the afterlife...
------
Duo sat on his bed, combing out the long, wet tendrils of chestnut silk, carefully organizing the tangles out of the mass of hair. Clad in a small towel that was draped over his hips and lap, his upper chest was bare and glistened with the few droplets of water he had failed to wipe away. He glanced up towards the single desk that adorned the safe house room, a true smile on his face for once, instead of the clownish grin that he usually wore.
Heero sat at the desk, his fingers flying over the keys of his laptop as he perused the internet and several of their past mission logs. He was aware of Duo's every movement, even if he didn't acknowledge them. His fingers swept over the keyboard as he increased the speed of his search, rushing to finish so that he would be free to spend these precious few moments with his lover.
Duo, having finished with brushing out his hair, got up from the bed, still only clad in the short towel. He shuffled his way over to where Heero was sitting, then encompassed the darker boy in his arms. As he enfolded Heero's unresisting body in his arms, he snuggled his face close until he was butting his head in the junction between Heero's neck and shoulders, his lips nuzzling possessively against the strong pulse in Heero's throat.
He felt Heero's body briefly tense up before relaxing back into the embrace. Duo smiled to himself then, and closed his eyes. It had taken him nearly a year to get the Mr. Perfect Soldier to open up to him and allow him these small displays of affection. Slowly but surely, he had pried and wheedled his way past Heero's defenses, knocking each one down until he had firmly enraptured the cobalt eyed pilot.
His reward for his efforts had been Heero's heart and soul.
He had asked for nothing more and nothing less.
Duo nuzzled his lips against the sensitive skin of Heero's neck, slowly working his way back up until he managed to capture Heero's earlobe. He light grazed on the protrusion of flesh with his teeth before he fell to a contented sucking on the slightly salty skin. His efforts managed to pry a loose purr from Heero's throat as well as Heero allowing his head to fall back further, giving Duo more of an advantage.
Duo left off teasing his ear and starting to plant loose and moist kisses along Heero's cheek, determinedly tracing a path to his ultimate goal. Heero's lips parted slightly as a gasp of pleasure escaped him, his breath becoming a bit faster in pace.
Hearing, more than seeing, his ultimate goal, Duo moved in for the kill. He pressed his lips lightly but firmly against Heero's, his mouth opening to slide his tongue into Heero's warm depths. The firm muscle made a few brief, teasing forays into the warm cavern, eliciting a couple of growls from its owner. After a few playful moments, Duo allowed his tongue to mesh with Heero's in an erotic and stimulating dance.
During this sweet torture, Duo had manuevered his body until he was practically sitting on Heero's lap. He allowed his towel to drop to the floor, until he was clothed in nothing more than the natural chestnut curtain that he was born with. His hands slid from Heero's nape to playfully tickle a path down Heero's bare arms, finally slippling into his loose green tanktop.
Just as he was about to explore the treasure beneath him, an annoying beeping from Heero's laptop diverted both pilot's attentions. With a slight groan and a nasty mutter about certain idiot scientists who had lousy timing, Duo climbed off of Heero and faced the laptop.
The two pilot reigned in their raging hormones with slight gasps of breath and faced the screen. Heero pushed the [enter] key and allowed the new mail message to pop up.
Heero -You and the other Gundam Pilots are to travel to OZ Base 97248 and proceed with the complete destruction of the base. It is housing mobile doll suits of Caliber Standard Alpha; highly dangerous. These experimental suits, if properly piloted, would prove to be a terrible nuisance, even to your gundams. As it is, the mobile dolls can only be destroyed internally, none of the weapons on your gundams can harm them. You are to completely destroy the base now before the mobile dolls are completed. No survivors. The others will be receiving similar emails.
- Dr. J
Heero and Duo looked at each other and murmured, "Ninmu ryoukai."
The pilots had taken to the air, their Gundams flying swiftly to the designated target. After safely landing their Gundams in a hidden alcove previously revealed by Professor G, the five young men had taken to the base on foot, each armed to the nines with high grade explosives and technology.
Infiltrating the base had been a piece of cake. That was what had first alerted the pilots to the wrongness of their mission. If the base was hiding such extreme weapons, shouldn't it have been better guarded?
They had swiftly made their way into the main bunker where they had expected the mobile dolls to be held. However, when they had penetrated the bunker, it was empty.
Well, correction, there were no mobile dolls.
But there were about 200 OZ soldiers.
Each with a vast array of weapons trained on the five teenage pilots.
Even with their terrific fighting abilities and the weapons they themselves were carting around, the five pilots knew they were no match for the soldiers. OZ had gotten the drop on them this time. It seemed that someone had given them the information that the Gundam pilots would be attacking the base.
There was a mole in Project Meteor.
The young pilots had no time to ponder who it could be as the soldiers of OZ had quickly divested them of their weapons and their freedom. Each of their hands had been shackled behind their back, restricting their movements and destroying any hopes for a break for freedom.
Then the horror had come.
The general of the base, General Misato Valenta had come up to face the young mercenaries, his generous jowel carved into a sadistic smile.
"At last. We have finally captured the bastard Gundam pilots," he crowed gleefully, his double and triple chins bobbing in time with his head movements. "This is a great day for OZ and for the Romefeller Foundation!"
The cheers from the surrounding soldiers had echoed off of the bare metal walls of the bunker. The five pilots had glared around them, refusing to show any emotions besides contempt for those peons that served Treize Khushrenada and Duke Dermail's crazy lunacy.
Valenta marched up the line of captured pilots, giving them each a swift look. He stopped in front of Heero and smiled down at him. "We have special orders regarding you, pilot 01."
Heero had snarled at the man, refusing to talk. He had bared his teeth in a low growl, the look in his eye promising swift retribution for this humility.
Valenta murmured, "Such a pity. You would have made a fine OZ soldier."
Valenta had made a swift hand signal to a soldier that stood behind the young pilot and then had turned away. The other pilots had watched as Valenta strode off, his step never faltering. Even when the loud report of the pistol had rebounded throughout the room.
Their heads had turned swiftly to Heero, too late. They saw the soldier behind him, holding the smoking pistol, a pleased look on his face. Heero's face was frozen in shock, his eyes wide, even as blood trickled down his face from somewhere underneath his hairline, his lips parted in a shocked breath. Blood began to trickle out of his mouth to dribble along his chin.
Heero's body had then begun the slow fall. He had fallen to his knees, remaining upright for a few seconds before gravity took over and pulled his body down to meet the cold, unyielding concrete. He fell face down, his arms still handcuffed behind his back. His body had bounced lightly once, and then lay still, a pool of dark crimson blood seeping out from the hole in his head, to lay in a congealing mass on the ground.
Silence had reigned in the bunker for a few precious moments, before Duo had lost it.
"HEEEERRRRROOOOOO!!!!!"
The four pilots had struggled furiously against their bonds at that moment, not caring if it resulted in their own deaths. They had just watched their own comrade and friend be coldly executed without a seeming care on the part of the OZ soldiers.
Quatre and Trowa were easily subdued by the soldiers, quick thrusts against their stomachs had quieted them down, although the soldiers had not stopped there. Quatre was taking the brunt of the polished boots in his ribs, yowling his pain even as he heard the cracking of bone. Trowa was being held by a soldier while another pounded on his face, his arms, his legs, anywhere he could be hurt.
Wufei had launched himself towards the guards in front of him, even with his hands tied, his legs were lethal weapons. He had managed to twist the necks of a few victims before he too had been subdued.
Duo on the other hand, was fiercely lashing out at anyone his own legs could reach. He didn't care where he landed his blows, just so long as the soldiers could feel his grief, his pain, at the loss of his loved one. His vision was blurred by the tears that poured down his face, his loud cries of anguish and torment rebounding and echoing.
Even after he had been physically subdued, his mouth still continued its long drawn out insults, cursing the soldiers, their parents, their makers, their pets, anything his grief stricken mind could grasp.
The four pilots were then dragged out of the bunker, but not before they were witnessed to the several soldiers who were surrounding Heero's limp body, their guns drawn. Before their very eyes, they watched as the soldiers one by one emptied their guns into Heero's body, which jerked lightly as the force of each bullet entered his empty flesh.
The only thing that consoled the other pilots was that their friend as already dead and couldn't suffer anymore pain.
------
A sudden loud crashing outside of their cell captured their attention. The pilots listened intently as cries of horror and surprise were heard by the guards outside of their dark cell. They couldn't tell anything about the ruckus from the incoherent cries of the doomed outside, but they knew that something... or someone... horrible was in the base.
However, if he or she was destroying the OZ soldiers, mercilessly slaughtering them just as they murdered Heero, then he or she was their temporary ally.
Finally silence was heard from the outside and the door to their cell slid silently open. The four captured pilots winced as the bright hall lights hit their dilated eyes, and they turned their eyes away to allow them to adjust.
One by one, the pilots turned back to the door to let their eyes fall on the face of their so called savior.
A pair of black, a pair of green, a pair of light blue, and a pair of violet eyes widened with shock and disbelief at what they saw.
The figure in the doorway was bloody, his ratty shirt was caked in drying and newly spilt blood. His dark hair was matted to the top and sides of his head, his face was pale but for streaks of crimson liquid that stained the skin. His cobalt blue eyes flicked back and forth between the pilots before settling his relieved gaze on the braided one.
There, against all possible odds, standing in the doorway, holding a rifle and several appropriated guns in his hands, was Heero.
Heero, who was supposed to be dead.
BUT WAS STILL ALIVE...
TBC...
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