Butterfly Wing
folder
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
949
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
949
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Butterfly Wing
Disclaimer: Copyright infringement (or copyright violation) is the unauthorized use of material that is covered by copyright law, in a manner that violates one of the original copyright owner's exclusive rights, such as the right to reproduce or perform the copyrighted work, or to make derivative works. (Definition filched from Wikipedia.) So yeah, I’m aware that I’m infringing on copyrights here, but it’s done with only the intention of promoting enjoyment of the anime and manga. So if intention means anything to all owners and licensers of the original material I beg you to please not sue me.
AN: I am fully aware that this is the most boring over-used plot in Gundam Wing fics. I know I've read about a million "Gundam pilot gets captured and raped" fics so I have to assume all of you have too. The only reason I'm posting this piece of poorly-written crap is my completist nature compells me to. If it's sitting finnished on my hard drive I have to post it. I appologise to anyone who actually reads this. Feel free to flame me for the bandwidth you wasted loading this page.
~~~
It was warm. All around him the darkness was warm and soft and comforting, like a baby’s blanket, or a mothers womb. Yes, it was like being in your mother’s womb. The outside world seemed so foggy and distant, but even through the fog he could hear the faintest trace of a voice, so gentle, like a cool breeze against his face, coaxing his eyes slowly open.
“Trowa?” His voice sounded small in the sparsely decorated room.
The older boy took his hand gently, as though it were a butterfly’s fragile wing. “You’re awake.” He never was one for words, but that made every word said that much more meaningful.
Quatre took a long slow breath before he spoke again. “How long have I been asleep?” The amount of time was inconsequential, really, and both boys knew it was only a diversion from the real subject.
Trowa said nothing, only sat in silence, asking, without words, the question he feared the answer to, and the boy before him offered no answer, in effect answering the question completely. Neither was willing, however, to accept the silent words that passed between them, and so, the silence stretched on.
~~~
The crack of his skull against the concrete floor was more heard than felt. After the torture and beatings he had taken from the OZ generals who tried to get information out of him he had shut himself out to the pain and fear. His mind detachedly registered his surroundings. Everything was gray and concrete. ‘A cell,’ he realized, ‘but why am I here? I should be dead.’ The air was damp and smelled of sweat and blood. Quatre didn’t bother to move, he didn’t bother to make himself comfortable, he just lied there staring at the air in front of him.
When the cell door opened the OZ officer entering was greeted with the unexpected sight of a Gundam Pilot lying battered and broken on the floor. The Officer smirked, “ So this is one of the infamous Gundam Pilots.” When Quatre’s dead expression refused to change he started to get angry. He grabbed his prisoner and shook him violently as he screamed in the broken child’s face, “Wake up and listen to me, boy!” Quatre’s body was as limp as a rag doll, and finally the OZ officer threw him back to the ground.
“I’ll get you to respond, you little shit.” The officer’s belt was off of his waist and around Quatre’s wrists in no time. “I sure as hell will.”
~~~
Trowa poured two cups of coffee, adding sugar and cream to the one not intended for himself. Duty compelled him to ask the questions he was neglecting, but he couldn’t bring himself to bother Quatre with business. He watched the blond pilot attempt a weak smile when he returned with the two steaming cups.
“Quatre, I…”
“I didn’t tell them anything,” Quatre whispered.
A somber nod was Trowa’s response. It was a relief that Quatre hadn’t cracked under the pressure of the OZ interrogation. To give out information was to ask for death. Even if he were to let the Sandrock pilot escape Heero would hunt them both down in the end.
Setting the cups down on the dresser and taking the delicate hand of the smaller pilot in his own Trowa began to speak again, “Quatre, I need to know what happened to you.”
~~~
Quatre didn’t cry out, barely even twitched as the soldier took him. He was too exhausted to put up any resistance but that seemed to only aggravate his tormentor more causing him to become increasingly violent. The man was screaming at him but his words didn’t register in Quatre’s fogged brain. He felt the hand around his neck and the burning in his lungs as his body was deprived of air but all he could think was how nice it would be once the darkness closing in on his vision completely enveloped him.
~~~
He sipped from his coffee cup carefully, strangely aware of the ridiculousness of worrying about a burnt tongue when he could feel the throbbing of his other injuries. “You don’t really need to ask do you? You’re the one who got me out of there and you’re the one who treated my injuries. It should be obvious what happened.” He really only had a vague recollection of his rescue. Gunfire and the feeling of being carried then scattered moments of semi-awareness and the knowledge that he was somewhere safe.
Trowa nodded solemnly before releasing Quatre’s hand and walking out.
~~~
The next day there were news reports of an explosion destroying a large portion of the nearby OZ base. The cause was still under investigation, but terrorism was suspected. They left that night.
AN: I am fully aware that this is the most boring over-used plot in Gundam Wing fics. I know I've read about a million "Gundam pilot gets captured and raped" fics so I have to assume all of you have too. The only reason I'm posting this piece of poorly-written crap is my completist nature compells me to. If it's sitting finnished on my hard drive I have to post it. I appologise to anyone who actually reads this. Feel free to flame me for the bandwidth you wasted loading this page.
~~~
It was warm. All around him the darkness was warm and soft and comforting, like a baby’s blanket, or a mothers womb. Yes, it was like being in your mother’s womb. The outside world seemed so foggy and distant, but even through the fog he could hear the faintest trace of a voice, so gentle, like a cool breeze against his face, coaxing his eyes slowly open.
“Trowa?” His voice sounded small in the sparsely decorated room.
The older boy took his hand gently, as though it were a butterfly’s fragile wing. “You’re awake.” He never was one for words, but that made every word said that much more meaningful.
Quatre took a long slow breath before he spoke again. “How long have I been asleep?” The amount of time was inconsequential, really, and both boys knew it was only a diversion from the real subject.
Trowa said nothing, only sat in silence, asking, without words, the question he feared the answer to, and the boy before him offered no answer, in effect answering the question completely. Neither was willing, however, to accept the silent words that passed between them, and so, the silence stretched on.
~~~
The crack of his skull against the concrete floor was more heard than felt. After the torture and beatings he had taken from the OZ generals who tried to get information out of him he had shut himself out to the pain and fear. His mind detachedly registered his surroundings. Everything was gray and concrete. ‘A cell,’ he realized, ‘but why am I here? I should be dead.’ The air was damp and smelled of sweat and blood. Quatre didn’t bother to move, he didn’t bother to make himself comfortable, he just lied there staring at the air in front of him.
When the cell door opened the OZ officer entering was greeted with the unexpected sight of a Gundam Pilot lying battered and broken on the floor. The Officer smirked, “ So this is one of the infamous Gundam Pilots.” When Quatre’s dead expression refused to change he started to get angry. He grabbed his prisoner and shook him violently as he screamed in the broken child’s face, “Wake up and listen to me, boy!” Quatre’s body was as limp as a rag doll, and finally the OZ officer threw him back to the ground.
“I’ll get you to respond, you little shit.” The officer’s belt was off of his waist and around Quatre’s wrists in no time. “I sure as hell will.”
~~~
Trowa poured two cups of coffee, adding sugar and cream to the one not intended for himself. Duty compelled him to ask the questions he was neglecting, but he couldn’t bring himself to bother Quatre with business. He watched the blond pilot attempt a weak smile when he returned with the two steaming cups.
“Quatre, I…”
“I didn’t tell them anything,” Quatre whispered.
A somber nod was Trowa’s response. It was a relief that Quatre hadn’t cracked under the pressure of the OZ interrogation. To give out information was to ask for death. Even if he were to let the Sandrock pilot escape Heero would hunt them both down in the end.
Setting the cups down on the dresser and taking the delicate hand of the smaller pilot in his own Trowa began to speak again, “Quatre, I need to know what happened to you.”
~~~
Quatre didn’t cry out, barely even twitched as the soldier took him. He was too exhausted to put up any resistance but that seemed to only aggravate his tormentor more causing him to become increasingly violent. The man was screaming at him but his words didn’t register in Quatre’s fogged brain. He felt the hand around his neck and the burning in his lungs as his body was deprived of air but all he could think was how nice it would be once the darkness closing in on his vision completely enveloped him.
~~~
He sipped from his coffee cup carefully, strangely aware of the ridiculousness of worrying about a burnt tongue when he could feel the throbbing of his other injuries. “You don’t really need to ask do you? You’re the one who got me out of there and you’re the one who treated my injuries. It should be obvious what happened.” He really only had a vague recollection of his rescue. Gunfire and the feeling of being carried then scattered moments of semi-awareness and the knowledge that he was somewhere safe.
Trowa nodded solemnly before releasing Quatre’s hand and walking out.
~~~
The next day there were news reports of an explosion destroying a large portion of the nearby OZ base. The cause was still under investigation, but terrorism was suspected. They left that night.