Author: Karen The Huntress
Rating: R
Warning: Angst, Language, Death, but not Heero or Duo
Pairing: 1x2
Feedback: Always appreciated and answered
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters
Summary: Seven scenes tells the story of what a person will do in the name of love.
In the Name of Love
Watching:
I stand on an adjacent maintenance platform watching them work on their Gundams. The pair is attempting to be discreet.
Whispered conversations.
Subtle touching.
I know what they are thinking-feeling for each other.
Do they really think I'm blind?
It isn't fair. Nothing in the damn war is fair. The senseless conflict desensitizes your conscience until maiming and killing doesn't matter anymore.
Numb.
I wish my heart was as frozen as the cold vacancy of space. Then, maybe, I could end this self-inflicted torture. Banish the aching in my gut. Vanquish from my dreams the images of their brazen fornication.
"Close your eyes." I rebuke my accursed weakness. "Stop watching!"
But how can I look away?"
*********
Waiting:
Still standing here.
Still waiting for a variant in attention. A glance my way. A meeting of eyes, of souls, that will never happen.
How could he choose him over me? Favor the cocky upstart so lacking in discipline. The loose cannon whose boorish, ill-bred upbringing dictates his unorthodox fighting methods.
The focus of my devotion deserves more than being that licentious cretin's plaything. He should be worshiped and adored by someone who knows how to cherish and caress and promise unconditional commitment.
How long must I wait for his unrequited love?
For eternity?
Until we share the afterlife?
Not long now.
During the next enemy engagement the obstacle to my lover will be annihilated. In the heat of battle there will be no evidence his death was wrought by my hand.
I can be patient, just a bit longer.
*********
Wondering:
I wonder if my incredible pilot knows how enthralling he is. Every movement glides into the next with a perfect blend of confident strength and predatory grace.
Every word he utters puts the songs of angels to shame.
When five Colonial rebels and their mock-human warriors are summoned to combat, once the deed is done, the impediment to our union will be forever fused with the mangled remains of his Gundam.
Afterwards I'll be at my soldier's side to offer solace, to soothe his grief and capture his heart. Then he will wonder why we hadn't been together all along.
Klaxons call. Soon the heavens will be ablaze with my fiery retribution. Hold on my love for after today will we share eternity.
One last longing gaze before I climb into Shenlong to fulfill my destiny.
*********
Study:
Shenlong and I glide into a starboard staging area where the quartet of Gundams awaits their call to arms. On the right flank my intended target's Gundam hovers weightlessly. On the left, my destined lover serves as a reminder why the constant interference in our union must be eliminated.
In the limited interval before battle I study my opponent, no doubt, overconfident in the false notion he's someone to fear. There will be fear but it will not belong to the enemy.
No, his terror will be realized when the brash bastard is squarely in my sights. There'll be a flicker of disbelief at my betrayal. Brief confusion seconds before the Dragon Fang flamethrower transforms his impotent machine into a private crematorium. Then the vestiges of his charred corpse can float forever in the lifeless void of space.
Orders to move out are issued. Anticipation quickens my heartbeat for I am ruthless and dispatch vengeance without mercy.
Not long now my love.
*********
Stalk:
Each time a Taurus is slain I imagine my adversary engulfed in an all-consuming fireball. The strategy is simple, a flawless plan. Blacken the viewports. Blind the external monitors then attack.
I make short work of the next challenger.
Another Mobile Suit blocks my path and is demolished.
Another. Then another.
Can't be bothered with such trifling contests.
As I speed towards my prime objective the black Gundam pivot; faces away from my advancement. No time to waste. Thrusters hiss. Meter by meter the gap is closed.
Stealthy I stalk my prey. The fool doesn't suspect as the flamethrower powers up. I'm the Lone Dragon, the deliverer of righteous justice and swift death and not even Duo Maxwell can stand against me.
*********
Sacrifice:
Flamethrower maximum power.
Target locked.
Sweat trickles into my ebony eyes but concentration never waver.
Sighing through the astral battlefield littered with shredded remnants of men and machines I take aim at Deathscythe. My finger tenses on the activation trigger.
Ahead I see the silhouette of Wing and whisper reverently. "For you my love."
Suddenly, like a swarm of angry hornets, Mobile Dolls materialize from nowhere.
"HEERO! LOOK OUT!"
Energy beams pierce the starless heavens in a deadly deluge. Encompassed in bursts of blinding radiance Wing shudders violently then pitches sideways.
Uncharacteristic panic accents 01's voice transmission. "Internal filtration system compromised." is wheezed amongst gasps for air before the channel is overwhelmed by static.
Wing listing at a lopsided angle confirms the gyroscope is no longer functional. As the realization Heero has defied protocol and removed the Zero System helmet, the likelihood of asphyxiation in the sealed cockpit becomes a very real danger.
Possessed by fear of losing the only person for whom I fight this folly called war I don't consider the odds of survival, don't care if I'm outnumbered, just charge into the fray.
Armed with the beam glaive I engage in a dance of death.
Attack.
Feint. Riposte.
Many Dolls cease to exist. Numerous unmanned suits evade the strikes and parries.
This relentless struggle has pushed Shenlong to the limits of endurance. Warning lights flash red. Weapon failure alarms blare. Circuits leach blue-gray smoke. There's no denying the inevitable systems crashes and irreparable structural damage.
Yet, defeat is not an option for rescuing Heero so I do something totally alien to my warrior's spirit-retreat.
Withdrawal is not borne from lack of courage or self-preservation but a ploy by the fox to lure the hounds.
Deathscythe's communication frequency is keyed in. "Duo. I'm going to decoy the Dolls. Save Heero. Understand?"
I can sense Duo's confusion then, with relief, comprehension. A single word verifies the recovery stratagem. "Understood."
Thrusters whine in protest. The last of Shenlong's engine capacity is barely strong enough to entice the remaining Dolls to take the bait.
Without the aid of computer input I mentally calculate the distance needed to shield Wing and Deathscythe from the blast zone.
The few operative components are taken offline. Control panels go dark. Alarms are silent.
Floating.
Motionless.
Dolls move in for the kill.
"I love you Heero Yuy."
A sigh of resignation.
"Nataku, please accept my humble apology." I entreat as the self-destruct switch if depressed.
My heart is content. My soul is at peace.
No fear.
No pain.
Perhaps I will be remembered. Perhaps tears will be shed to mourn my passing and Heero will whisper a fond utterance of farewell.
*********
Tribute:
Hand in hand Heero and Duo stand before a grassy plot guarded by an intricately carved black marble dragon with ruby eyes.
No doleful epitaph is etched into the Gundanium pedestal supporting the mystic creature. Centered at the top, the Chinese character for justice in inlaid in gold. Next, "Chang Wufei" is framed by lotus blossoms. Lastly date of birth and date of death chronicles the noble pilot's short yet significant existence.
Not a single fragment could be salvaged after Shenlong disintegrated in that hellish explosion and no reclamation of corporal remains to dwell in the empty grave.
As deeply as Heero and Duo mourn their fallen comrade, they take comfort in the knowledge the Lone Dragon's life was not forfeited in vain. Wufei's heroic actions not only saved Heero but turned the tide of battle in the Colonial rebel's favor.
Duo's free hand wipes away tears tracking down his pale cheeks. "If Wufei hadn't lured those Dolls away---" he begins before renewed sobs shake his shoulders.
"I know." Heero corroborates his partner's sentiments. "Wufei made the ultimate sacrifice. You and I will always be grateful."
In a gesture of high esteem, Heero kneels. A trembling finger traces each engraved letter in the name he and Duo will ever forget.
"Farewell, my friend." he whispers so low only Duo and the angels can hear. "May the wind guide your wings on your peaceful journey home."
OWARI
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