Author: Karen The Huntress
Rating: R
Warning: Violence, language, angst and some sap for good measure
Pairing: 1+2, alluded 3x4
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Archive: DHML
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, its characters or the song "Stand By Me".
Stand By Me
*~When the night has come and the land is dark and the moon is the only light you see.
I won't be afraid, no, I won't be afraid. Just as long as you stand by me.~*
*********
Duo heard BANG an instant before the bullet's impact spun him around.
Pain seared his right shoulder like a hot poker. In a fraction of a second white light flashed behind his eyes, legs turned to rubber and knees hit the ground with a jolt that stole his breath away.
A hiss blew through clenched teeth as Duo tried to focus blurred vision on the OZ soldier leveling his rifle.
Duo's pistol was still gripped in his right hand, or was it?
What difference would it made anyway? Even if he could force his arm, hanging limply at his side, to respond and his eyesight to clear sufficiently to take aim, he had serious doubts his rapidly numbing finger could pull the trigger.
"Ah shit, Maxwell." he chided himself for the lapse in attention that had allowed the trooper to get close enough to fire.
Once an Aries pilot name Jake told Duo. "At the end your life flashes before your eyes."
At the end it seemed Duo's entire existence had been an enigma, his reality a dream. Or had he managed to bury the past so deep that his heart, mind and soul had finally become as numb as his hand?
There weren't any fond remembrances of happier times or startling revelations revealing the mysteries of karma or fate or why the dryer eats your socks.
No mystic manifestations of Solo came to comfort. Likewise Father Maxwell and Sister Helen withheld their absolution and no ghostly apparitions of Deathscythe materialized to ferry Duo into the afterlife.
But strangely he didn't feel completely abandoned. It was as if a thread of saving grace grounded him to the belief that everything would be all right in the end.
Duo wobbled, the pistol slipped from his grasp. He gazed at the weapon lying forsaken on the pavement then blinked to steady the soldier's undulating image. With a submissive sigh he closed his eyes and waited for the final, deadly shot.
Boots skidding on blacktop was puzzling. The grunt that followed was equally baffling. Duo opened his eyes in time to see Heero tackle the Ozzie and snap his neck like a twig.
Without a proper hello, Heero pushed his and Duo's automatics into his belt, scooped up the discarded rifle, grabbed Duo's jacket collar and began hauling the self-proclaimed Shinigami towards the remnants of a brick retaining wall.
"Dammit Heero." was the only words Duo could manage between swallow gulps of air as pain flared in his shoulder and his butt bounced over potholes created by beam cannons.
Heero didn't acknowledge the cursing nor did he slow his strides. Only when Wing's master and his wounded comrade were safely shielded behind the wall did he prop Duo against the crumbling bricks and offer an explanation.
"A squad of Mobile Dolls just entered the eastern sector." he informed as he peered cautiously over the wall's splintered rim. "I contacted 03 and 04. Their projected ETA is two hours."
Duo licked his parched lips. "I'll take a wild guess, you picked up my mayday."
"Why in the hell didn't you stay with Deathscythe?" Heero snapped. "I wasted valuable time camouflaging both Gundams before tracking you down. Those extra minutes almost proved to be fatal."
"The electrical system shorted out and the cockpit filled with smoke. I was looking for cover when..." Duo went pale as a sturdy shiver dragged icy tentacles down his spine.
Only after the sudden onset of cold sweat had bathed Duo's body in clammy moisture did Heero notice the ragged hole in his jacket that was oozing blood.
"You're injured."
"You always were observant."
After a methodical examination of the exit wound, Heero determined the bullet had clipped the muscle and luckily missed the bone which meant the bleeding should be minimal. He tore off the hem of his shirt and tied it around Duo's arm to stem the flow then shed his jacket, covered Duo's chest and tucked the sleeves behind him.
"That will do for now but you have to stay still." he ordered.
Duo didn't answer.
Heero placed his hand under Duo's sagging chin and raised his head. "Duo, look at me."
Weakness glazed eyes met his concerned sight.
A raspy intake of breath. "I'm okay." was declared barely above a whisper.
"Liar."
Duo managed a lopsided grin. "I never lie."
*********
Twilight painted the cityscape in opaque purple shadows. A harsh breeze funnelled chilly currents through the manmade canyons and swept over the rebel's dubious sanctuary.
To the east, muffled explosions rumbled like thunder, energy flares flickered like heat lightning and intermittent vibrations from energy discharges were powerful enough to be keenly felt even at Heero and Duo's remote location.
Two pistols and a rifle were laid out in order close at hand. Heero leaned against the wall. Duo had settled down with his head and back resting on his fellow warrior's chest and his braid draped over his good side. The initial throbbing in the shoulder had diminished to a dull ache, as long as he didn't move.
Duo wanted to sleep but Heero discouraged him from drifting off because it would be easier for him to succumb to shock. To keep the wily Sandman at bay, Heero engaged his counterpart in constant conversation, in fact in the last hour Heero had spoken more words than the total sum of the previous week.
Heero challenged Duo's mechanical skills, posing hypothetical problems for every system from thrusters to the simplest toggle joints. They debated and argued counterstrike techniques, battle strategies, all manner of subterfuge and what Quatre and Trowa did when they snuck into each other's rooms.
Heero looked skyward, watched as the crescent moon drifted from her cloudy veil. "You always liked the moon." he declared then urged Duo to redirect his sight at the silvery orb.
"Yeah." Duo replied appearing lost in private reminiscing.
He recalled one night after he and Heero had put on the guise of shooting stars and landed on Earth, he'd laid on his back and gazed at the full moon in childlike wonderment. That dazzling view of the "Eye of Heaven" would be forever etched in his mind.
"Do you think we'll ever see a moon like this again?" Duo asked then shivered not from the icy wind or blood loss but from a sense of déjà vu.
He'd asked the same question that night on Earth. Heero hadn't answer then, he was too busy pilfering parts from Deathscythe to repair Wing.
This time Heero considered the question. "Of course we will. We'll watch thousands of moons together."
*********
*~When the sky that we look upon tumbles and falls and the mountains crumble to the sea. I won't cry, no, I won't cry. I won't shed a tear. Just as long as you stand by me.~*
*********
A long silence stretched between the Perfect Solider and the God of Death as they contemplated the winking stars suspended before midnight's ebony backdrop.
The wind wailed miserably. The strong odor of smoke tainted with a hint of scorched flesh wafted through cracks in the wall.
Heero hoped Duo hadn't noticed that the tremors were more intense, the battle din louder, that the sky glowed and the moon was highlighted by a fiery hue.
It could be a matter of minutes before Mobile Dolls, the ultimate killing machine minus a pilot who might listen to rational reasoning, would swarm the area like angry hornets.
If Heero had been alone he would've used the maze of rubble to his advantage, most likely avoiding any confrontation until 03 and 04's arrival. But he was not alone and Duo was in no condition to navigate the labyrinth of busted concrete, shattered glass and splintered trees that provided stark testimony to prior conflicts.
Maybe the Dolls would overlook two humans hunkered down in the shadows or Quatre and Trowa would charge in, guns blazing like the Wild West shootouts or perhaps the scarlet moon would be the last sight Heero and Duo shared.
The damnable Doctor J. had nearly succeeded in molding Heero Yuy into an emotionally detached instrument of devastation that could've been spawned from the Dolls. From the beginning the old bastard had set Heero on a path of annihilation and with Wing had given him the means of self-destruction if victory could not be obtained.
Then Duo Maxwell came along. Although their first encounter resulted in Duo shooting him. He still had the scars as a souvenir. Heero had no regrets. Duo persistently challenged him to question his dispassionate training and gradually, without comprehending the subtle transformation, Heero reclaimed his humanity.
Now in the residue of chalky mortar and gritty dirt and the dregs of broken dreams, Heero would make his stand. He'd defend Duo the only way he knew how, by once again becoming the Grim Reaper's worse nightmare.
Heero eased from behind Duo; made certain he was seated upright then gathered the various weapons and braced his shoulder on the wall.
"Whatcha doin'" Duo inquired in a drowsy tone.
"Checking Quatre and Trowa's status." he told half the truth. "Be quiet while I scan the perimeter."
"'kay." Duo agreed then wondered why "Ring Around the Rosie." kept replaying in his head.
The ground trembled, more powdery residue sifted from the mortar seams. The whine of gears gummed up with sand screeched so shrilly it set Heero's teeth on edge. One heavy footstep after the other moved a Doll closer to the pilots' hiding place. A second unmanned machine followed at a calculated distance.
Heero balanced on one knee and dared a quick look. "If they stay on the opposite side of the street." he mentally figured the mechanized beasts' optical range.
The lead Doll pivoted as if it had "heard" Heero's thoughts.
"Dammit." Heero hissed as he disengaged the safety catch on the rifle. "What good is this piece of shit going to do against that fucking monster?"
Duo glanced up with day-dreamy eyes and, with a bit more volume in his voice, suggested a possible solution. "Why don't you ask it to dance?"
"Shhhhh." Heero warned, knowing how easily sound carried in the wind.
Heero slid back into a crouched position, took a deep breath then let the slowly expelled air carry away enough tension to slow the fluttering in his heart.
Metal plated "feet" picked up the pace. He counted the steps. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five is going to be a bitch."
Light so bright it turned midnight into daylight flashed a nanosecond before it rained shards of titanium alloy, severed joint couplings, slivers of cockpit shielding, snaky lengths of wiring and a substance that smelled like hydraulic fluid.
Heero dove forward and flattened his body over Duo. The abrupt rearrangement sent a twinge racing from shoulder to fingertips but the pain did serve to rally Duo's lethargic senses.
"What the hell!" Duo growled when his braid slithered around his neck.
As the last fragments of wreckage plopped in the dirt and bounced off the wall, the hum of servomotors caused Heero to sit back, shield his eyes and squint up through wind-driven debris.
Heavyarms stood amongst the mangled vestiges of the first Doll. Flanked by the decapitated corpse of its partner, torso sputtering and sparking and belching black smoke, the massive Gundam, despite his frozen features, looked quite pleased with its handiwork.
Just as Trowa's slender frame materialized from the cockpit, a dark blue van maneuvered around mangled metal that by the mercy of God or Allah had not entombed a flesh and bone pilot.
Quatre emerged from the van with a medic-kit and proceeded to tend Duo's injury while Trowa unloaded blankets and bottled water.
Face smudged with a mixture of sweat and oil, Heero helped Duo with numerous sips of water until his dry throat was soothed and his body was hydrate. Next he guzzled half of his bottle then poured the remaining liquid over his hair that was frosted with dust.
Under Heavyarms watchful security, Quatre drove to a base camp established by an underground faction sympathetic to the rebels' cause. Wing and Deathscythe would be retrieved in the morning.
Heero kept a vigil in the van's back seat. Duo, his wound disinfected and swathed in sterile bandages until it could be sutured and his pain alleviated by medication was wrapped in a blanket and slept soundly with his head pillowed in Heero's lap.
*********
On the deserted road, with the moon shimmering across the van's window, Heero pondered a philosophy he'd been forced to re-examine.
"Life is cheap. Especially mine."
Recent events had granted Heero new insights on the value of life. The defining moment came when he stared up into the Doll's soulless "eyes" and realized he no longer gave a damn about the mission or J's expectations of the Perfect Soldier's preordained sacrifice.
At that pivotal point of clarity, Duo had become the most important reason for him taking his next breath.
Heero had previously regarded the braided young man with expressive violet eyes as merely an essential tool in their quest for the Colonies' freedom. Now he counted Duo as a respected friend. He honestly cared about Duo. Or was cared for Duo a more accurate description of his feelings?
Duo sighed in his sleep and that simply sound made Heero's heart skip a beat.
The war was far from over. Campaigns and clashes and circumstances would test Heero's resolve to overcome J's indoctrination. But with each conflict, whether with an enemy or himself, he wouldn't have to face the fray alone.
Duo Maxwell would watch his back, guard his heart and perhaps Heero would discover that the foreign concept called love might not be that elusive after all.
OWARI
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