Author: Karen, The Huntress
Rating: PG
Warning: Shounen ai, sorry no lemon this time.
Pairing: 1x2
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Archive: DHML Archive
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters.
Life in Three Steps Part 1
Aftermath
The silence was almost as deafening as the battle roar that had sounded its full fury only moments before.
Duo's head rested heavily on the cockpit seat's headrest. Sweat and grit, the usual dust thrown up during combat, ran in shiny stripes over his face. Long bangs damp well passed his hairline stuck in the oily film streaking his cheeks. One clump of the chestnut tresses was matted with blood from a gash above his eyebrow.
Frayed strands feathered out from his unkempt braid tangling on his jacket front. With more effort than usual Duo gathered the lengthy mane tossing it back over his shoulder.
His entire body ached. Swollen hands clutched the control rods but his numb fingers were no longer sure of their grip. Taking in a labored breath, sucking more gritty residue into his already scratchy throat, Duo exhaled slowly. The soft sigh that followed further accented his weary condition.
The cockpit stank from stale air. Burned out circuits and relays still smoldered causing his lungs to seize with each intake of the foul fumes. And, of course, the envior-exchange was yet another system that didn't seem to the functioning properly. But judging from the array of flashing red warning lights there was not much on the battle scarred Deathscythe Hell that was left in working order.
The ebony blanket of space, studded with a thousand flickering pinpoint of starlight, was strewn with all manner of debris. Rent material from Taurus and Leo suits, scattered among the traces of at least twenty Mobile Dolls, drifted aimlessly in all directions.
Duo tried not to think of the human remains mangled within the twisted wreckage floating in the same death-cold silence that lingered his cockpit's small confines. Parts of Mechas that had not been vaporized by the his Gundam's weapon's searing heat offered mute testimony to the terrible carnage of war.
So many dead. Lives snuffed out in a single fiery instant, with one sizzling slice of his beam scythe.
Fighting the sickening sensations the morbid scene produced Duo reminded himself that he and his fellow pilots had not started the fight. The OZ forces had picked the time and place for the apocalyptic encounter.
He had defended himself, nothing more. After all what was the OZ Flight Commander thinking? What did he expect? That Duo would give up.
Surrendering to circumstances or fate's oftentimes fickle moods had never been in Duo Maxwell's nature. Not during his childhood on the streets of L2 or after the destruction of the Maxwell Church and certainly not in the face of any Alliance threat.
No retreat was not his style. OZ had issued the challenge. Duo had merely took the hand they had dealt him and played the game out to its final, fatal conclusion.
Hands cramped in protest as stiff fingers released their stress-constricted grasp on the control rods. Wiping stringing sweat from his eyes Duo blinked twice before his tear-blurred vision cleared.
"02," a voice sounded through the communication monitor, "are you there?" Heero asked anxiously as the grainy imaged of Duo's friend and fellow freedom fighter popped on the screen.
Duo once again moped away the stubborn film clouding his sight. Another hard breath rattled in his chest before he could reply.
"Yeah I'm still here." he answered hoarsely.
"Are you all right?" Heero wondered not at all satisfied with the wheezy resonance rising through Duo's throat.
"I will be." Duo declared even though a raspy cough shook deep in his clogged lungs.
Heero steely cobalt eyes stared through the dusty screen trying to better see Duo's pale features. "You don't look good." he observed, "Are you hurt?"
With extra effort Duo straightened his sagging posture leaning at a lopsided angle into the restraint harness for much needed support. The rearrangement placed him closer to the monitor as he strained to see if Yuy had suffered any ill affects from his part in the enemy confrontation.
"It's nothing that won't heal." Duo decided, "Eventually." he added with a forced smile.
"Nothing can keep the great Shinigami down." he boasted clasping his hands behind his head then winced as a sharp pain grabbed across his battered ribs.
"As soon as Quatre, Trowa and Wufei get here," Heero stated, "we will head back to Earth. We are going to need some serious quality "down time" after this battle."
"I know." Duo agreed gazing out at the sea of blasted and broken Mobile Suits parting on either side on Deathscythe Hell's wake.
"Damn what a mess." Duo sighed.
Forcing, quite persistence, recurring memories deeper into the dark recesses of his mind Duo hoped he could once more keep at bay the demons of death and destructions. That once again the God of Death could ward his soul against the senseless war's menacing madness.
"Just one more time." he whispered as he guided Deathscythe in line behind Wing Zero, "After all nothing can keep Shinigami down." he repeated praying the brittle bits of his sanity would not break away altogether.
TBC...
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