The soldier is completely bloody and coughing violently as he lies on the ground in front of us, his manic eyes trying to focus on one of the three of us. His hands are trembling against his burn-scorched coat as he fumbles with his buttons, glaring daggers at each of us in hopes of making one of us back down.
Off to my right, Yuy stands behind me with claw marks trailing down his cheek to caress across his curved bloodied lip. Barton's taking up position on my left, wheezing occasionally from inhaling debris smoke for too damn long. Yuy and I had tried to help him walk, but we ended up having to carry him when he passed out. Thank gods he managed to pull through and find the strength to stand on both of his feet like a dignified man again. That doesn't mean he's in good shape, though; Yuy has this slight glint of worry in his eyes that practically screams he's going to drag Barton down to see Ms. Po at the first available opportunity.
I can see him wobbling out of the corner of my eye, his long fingers spread across his stomach as he lets out another weak cough, a flash of red revealing blood dripping from his parted lips with that last bout. Standing strong, though. If this lone soldier tries to make on last plea with violence, Barton won't let me and Yuy go at it alone. He'll suck it up like a good fighter and protect his comrades like we'll protect him if he falls.
Yuy's in pain, that much can be told from his stance alone. He's taking to favoring his right side a little more, his jeans on the left side having a small bullet hole directly in his thigh; the graying fabric adorned with a big red stain that'll be a bitch to get out if he plans on keeping the clothing. His breath is coming out in small puffs, his eyes slightly glazed and his hands clenching into fists along his thighs, one of them pressed tightly against the flood of blood on his leg.
I'm in no better shape. The mission hadn't quite gone as was intended when the three of us found our Gundams surrounded and at a lose for weaponry. Barton had run out of ammunition, like always, and Yuy had tried to protect him for as long as possible until he began to run out of fuel. Whatever could have been wrong did go wrong, and then some.
Being captured for exactly thirty-two minutes was not in the mission plan, but we did manage to get ourselves free with, as Maxwell would cheerfully announce, guns blazing. Unfortunately, those blazing guns were enemy registered and had little to no ammo left for us to make a lasting impression on this compound. About four guards had suffered from our spree, and we had locked two women nurses in a closet after they had tried to report us to their boss. If that boss had known we were even there, he would have had his whole unit surrounded around our separate cells.
Yuy was, like always, the mastermind of the escape. After he had freed himself using a flourish of cuss words and two stolen guns, he had retrieved myself and Barton and we had tried to make our debonair exit from the building like they do in the movies.
This lone soldier on the floor in front of us ruined that escape. He had seen us, apparently, and had run off to go and recruit some of the other soldiers. Yuy had taken the bullet to his thigh, Barton had been held for about three minutes and all Yuy and I could do was watch as he got beat for those three minutes. Maybe I forgot to mention that for about fifteen minutes, we had been out of ammo and had been winging it through the compound, manually taking people down.
When we got away from them, we were pretty much steer-clear of the exit when this bastard popped up out of nowhere and made a pathetic show of throwing himself to the ground and screaming at us, probably waiting for friends that wouldn't show. Friends that we had already taken care of, no problem.
His hands slam against his coat, wildly searching as he flicks his eyes from me off to each of my sides where my own friends are waiting. He's thinking he's going to be calling the shots because we are, indeed, unarmed and open for any type of danger. Some control goes to him if he can manage to get himself to hurry; if not, then we're the ones still in power.
We've been standing here for no more than fifteen seconds, and as one, we begin to flank forwards towards the soldier. Control slips into his hands as he rips his coat away, buttons popping off, and he wraps bloody fingers around the handle of a gun. The barrel jerks in my direction instantly, and I can almost feel Yuy and Barton pause to not scare the man into shooting. I come to a rest, as well, assessing the immediate danger and sighing quietly.
The gun may or may not be loaded; why risk it?
I watch him closely like an experiment in a lab, suppressing the urge to allow my lips to curve in a taunting grin, and the barrel slips away off to my right, pointing directly at Yuy. That pushes away any feeling of excitement as he stares at me with his wild eyes, allowing a grin of his own to filter onto his marred features.
What's your move?
He laughs, a brutal imitation of a joyous sound as he slides the barrel's sight across my chest to point in Barton's direction. Off to the right, I see Yuy's head following the gun with intensity, his breath slamming to a stop in his throat as he stares at his best friend. If Barton takes the rap, there's a chance Yuy might accidentally take me down in the process of ripping this poor man apart.
Desperation is sinking in, and we all know it. If we don't get out soon, there's a good chance back up will come after seeing the four of us in the hall security cameras.
"You're making a mistake."
This spoken from Yuy.
The gun's trained back on him in a second, the man's laughter turning into wet coughs as blood showers out of his nose and mouth to hit the gray floor. Yuy would want this to happen; if this long-gone soldier were to take someone down, Yuy would want it to be him because he wouldn't want to watch one of his friends die in such a harsh way. What he doesn't realize is that neither Barton or myself would ever wish to see him go down, either.
I wouldn't want to be responsible for returning back home, one man missing, just to face the searching stare and quiet questions of Maxwell asking me why his lover isn't back with them.
Did he have another mission?
Barton and I would probably keep to silence if this ever were the case, but it wouldn't be hard to imagine the conversations.
Did he have another mission?
I never want to see Maxwell's smile slowly begin to fade as his sparkling eyes dull into nothing if we're the ones who have to bring the bad news of his love's passing. It's a preventable situation, for the most part, and I don't want to be the one who has to witness Maxwell's descent into depression. I don't want to be the bringer of the bad news that takes away his will to live in this world, especially if that will is in the form of one of our strongest companions.
Barton would just as soon throw himself in front of Yuy if it meant that Maxwell would get to spend just another night in his arms. We aren't lucky to have found comfort like Maxwell and Yuy have, so why should we be the ones to rip it apart?
The soldier begins to tighten his finger on the trigger, his eyes flashing with laughter as we spring into action.
Yuy throws himself forward towards the soldier, letting out a gentle shout of worry as I move backwards to prevent his journey by slamming into him. He spills to the floor in shock, and watches as Barton forces himself to move by running at the soldier like Yuy had intended to do. Just as he steps in front of the path of the gun, we all hear the loud click and Barton freezes by instinct as the trigger is pulled and released, pure silence as the empty gun clatters to the concrete floor.
We start breathing again as Barton lands a swift kick to the man's side, no doubt from worry, then he turns startled eyes to meet mine and Yuy's for a brief second before giving his attention back to the soldier. The man throws his head back and laughs, blood pouring freely from his lips as he watches us all with nothing but contempt.
"Come on." I can't force much more out, "Let's get out of here."
I pull Yuy up by his sleeve and Barton rejoins the group, slowly moving towards us with stumbling steps. Yuy wraps one arm around Barton for support, holding him up as well as he can as his friend leans heavily against him from weakness. I offer an arm to Yuy and help lead the two passed the laughing soldier back towards our lives.
Back to our home.
Where we can show our two friends that we are still here for another battle, another fight... another breakfast.
The fresh air on our skin is enough to believe in another day.
I wouldn't have thought I'd dream to see tomorrow.
It's funny how my opinion on life has changed because of this small lot of people. Associates quickly turned into friends, and in the case of Yuy and Maxwell, lovers. We're not alone in this anymore, and I have to wonder if that's a greater danger to us than before.
We'd die for each other, but dying because you want to save someone you call a friend isn't going to stop the war any faster.
I guess that was just a chance we're all willing to take.