Disclaimer: GW does not belong to me. Never has done, never will.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see Quatre Winner in my life. I’m amazed that he even found us, but I can’t afford to lose time asking him how he got to this place, what matters is that he’s here now. And although I despise asking anyone for help, this time I’m willing to swallow my pride and accept assistance. Besides, it isn’t me who needs it most it’s Trowa.
Trowa. I still can’t believe the way J used him against me like he did. It makes me mad as Hell that he hurt Trowa, that he caused him pain. I’ve never seen him cry before and I hope to never again. What hurt most though was the knowledge that I was utterly powerless to stop it, that I couldn’t save the one person I’d sworn to protect.
Well, I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen again, but right now we both need Quatre to help us get out of this. I raise my head from Trowa’s chest to look at Quatre who is staring back at us, his eyes wide with shock.
“Allah, what happened to you?” he breathes as he hurries over to the table and starts unfastening my bonds.
“That’s not important right now,” Trowa says quietly, watching as Quatre works on freeing me first. “What is important is that we get out of here as soon as we can without anyone getting hurt. Did anyone see you break in?”
“No, the place was empty when I arrived,” Quatre replies, finally freeing my left wrist and moving onto the other. “Duo said that you’d been summoned for a mission, but I just sensed that something wasn’t right. I just never thought it would be anything like this.”
“You say no one was around when you got here?” I ask and Quatre nods affirmatively. “You might have been spotted on the security cameras. Just hurry up and get us loose so we can get out of here.”
He nods again, making a small sound of triumph when he gets my other wrist untied. I push him away, easing myself off of Trowa and start undoing the strap at his waist first. Quatre helps by undoing the bonds at Trowa’s ankles while I manage the ones at his wrist and we quickly get him free. I help him sit up, wrapping an arm securely around his waist when he sways unsteadily.
“Easy, Trowa,” I murmur, keeping him still. He sighs tiredly as I gently run my fingers over his body, checking for any injuries. I bite my lip when I see the burnt areas of skin on his chest, but I won’t be able to do anything for them until we get out of this place.
I slide off the table, keeping a tight hold on him as I carefully help him stand. “Just hold onto me,” I tell him and he nods. My brow furrows at his response. He must still be in considerable pain if he’s being this complacent.
I look up to see Quatre watching in concern. “Will he be okay?” he asks shakily and I grunt in reply. I’m more worried by the fact that no one seems to have noticed Quatre’s appearance and that Doctor J hasn’t returned yet. I glance around the room in an effort to find something, anything I can use to arm myself, but there’s nothing.
“You armed?” I ask and Quatre nods once, pulling a gun out from where he’s concealed it underneath his waistcoat. “Alright, step slowly outside the door and be ready to shoot. It’s too quiet, some one should have come here by now.”
Before the blonde exits the room, Trowa speaks up. “Quatre,” he says softly, getting his attention. “Be careful,” he continues. “And you, Heero,” he adds, looking down at me, trying to manage a glare.
“Save the lecture for later, let’s just focus on escaping first,” I tell him, tightening my grip on him and keeping my eyes glued to the door. Quatre edges out into the hall, keeping his gun aimed.
“The coast is clear,” he hisses, waving for us to move out. I hurry to do so, trying to keep my concentration on Trowa and for any unexpected arrivals at the same time.
“Come on, Tro,” I whisper, helping him out into the hallway. Suddenly he stumbles, almost falling to the floor and dragging me with him and I’m just about to help him up when Quatre yells.
“Get back inside!” he shouts. “They’re coming!”
I glance up to see Doctor J along with his assistant hurrying our way and I drag Trowa back into the room. “Quatre, come on!” I call, hoping to barricade us in the room to buy some time. He ignores me though, his body adopting a shooting stance.
“Just get Trowa out of here, Heero!” he says, his finger tightening on the trigger.
“Then hurry up and shoot!” I yell, pulling Trowa back into the room. “Just do it!”
“No, Quatre!” Trowa says, struggling against me. “Get back in here!”
“Dammit, Trowa, we have to move!” I hiss, getting Trowa back into the room. “Quatre, just shoot, then get the Hell out of there!” I’m trying to restrain Trowa from rushing out into the hallway when a gun goes off.
“No!” Trowa lunges out of my grasp, almost knocking me over. “Quatre!”
There’s the sound of a scuffle outside and then silence. No more gun shots though and I wonder who it was that got hit. I pull Trowa to me once more and he struggles again, but he’s growing weaker now. I look up when Quatre enters the room and sigh in relief.
“You alright?” I ask, but he doesn’t reply. Instead he stumbles and I growl when I see that J has just pushed him into the room and with a gun to his back no less. Why the Hell didn’t he shoot both of them while he had the chance? I think angrily, but I try to stay calm. I have to think of a way out of this. Trowa tenses in my arms and neither of us take our eyes off Quatre.
“Looking for someone?” he asks with a smirk. He pushes Quatre forward again, holding the gun steady. I tighten my arms around Trowa in case he decides to go and do something foolish. I can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, his chest rising and falling with each unsteady breath he takes.
“Let him go.” Trowa’s voice startles me and I look up to see him gazing calmly at Doctor J. “You don’t need Quatre, so why not just let him go?”
“I’m not as stupid as you might think, my boy,” J replies. “I wasn’t expecting any complications, but I shall deal with this interruption appropriately. I never enjoy killing, but I’m afraid that this is out of necessity.”
“There’s no need for you to kill Quatre,” Trowa tries and I know what he’s doing. He’s reasoning with J, trying to talk him into letting Quatre go. That’s not going to work! I think frantically. You can’t reason with mad men! “The only one you want to deal with is me. Not Quatre and not Heero. Let them go and keep me.”
Quatre and I call Trowa’s name out simultaneously. Dammit, he’s doing it again; he’s trying to sacrifice himself for us! Well it isn’t going to happen, not if I can help it. I have to try and get the gun from J somehow…maybe if I can distract him…
“Mr. Barton, what you’re attempting to do is futile,” J says. “My intention was to kill you anyway although it looks like you will be dying sooner rather than later. As for this one,” he nudges Quatre with the gun, but the blonde doesn’t make any move to his credit. “He will die too. So don’t bother trying to talk your way out of this.”
“Just think about it,” Trowa tells him. “What will killing us achieve? It doesn’t matter what you do with me, I don’t care as long as you let the others go.”
“Noble. Very noble,” J says mockingly. “But still a wasted effort. Say goodbye to your little friend.” He raises his gun to point at Quatre’s head and suddenly everything seems to happen at once. Trowa wrenches himself out of my arms and leaps at Quatre, shoving him out of the way and narrowly missing getting shot.
I take advantage of the confusion to aim a well-placed kick at J’s hand, knocking the gun from out of his grasp. He drops to the floor, reaching for the weapon, but I land on him, hooking an arm around his neck and pressing hard against his windpipe. I can hear the sounds of him choking, but still he struggles, managing to reach up and strike me in the face. My fingers loosen momentarily in surprise and he wriggles free and grabs the gun. He staggers to his feet and I follow, lunging for the gun. I’m sent flying by a rough shove and I wipe the blood from my eyes in time to see Trowa tackling J.
“Don’t!” I yell, jumping up. Then, as suddenly as time sped up only a moment ago, it now seems to slow down as J points the gun at Trowa and fires. Trowa falls backwards and I catch him before he can hit the floor. I can still hear crashing and banging noises, but then suddenly everything goes silent. I glance up to see Quatre standing over Doctor J who’s lying on the floor apparently unconscious. Quatre has the gun trained on J and he’s breathing hard, his hands trembling slightly.
“Quatre,” I say, getting his attention. His head bobs in acknowledgement, but he doesn’t say anything. “Give me the gun.”
“Why?” he asks, his voice shaky.
“Because I’m going to kill him,” I reply steadily. “I know you don’t want to do it, so I will. He deserves what he gets.” Quatre hands me the gun and I take it, aiming it at J’s head. I know I should feel guilt for being about to kill an unconscious man, but I don’t. Like I said to Quatre, he deserves what he gets. This is it, I tell myself. After everything he’s ever done, I can now avenge Trowa and myself.
My finger pauses from where I’m about to pull the trigger, but then I strengthen my resolve and squeeze. It’s as though I’m watching from outside of my body as I fire at J. I only need one shot and I take it, aiming right for the head. Quatre looks away as I do so, but I keep my eyes fixed steadily on my target, watching in a kind of morbid fascination as the bullet embeds itself inside J’s head, blood spraying over the floor and the walls. That’s it, I tell myself. He’s dead. I finally killed him.
A choking sound grabs my attention and I almost kick myself when I realise that I’ve forgotten about Trowa. I drop the gun hastily, gasping in horror when I see the blood spilling out of him. He’s been hit in the stomach and I hurriedly press my fingers to his throat, feeling for a pulse. It’s there, but very slow and thready.
“Quatre, we have to get him out of here,” I say, panicking slightly. Quatre drops to my side, but I barely notice as I pull my tank top off and rip it in half, balling up the cloth and pressing it tightly against Trowa’s wound in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood. “Trowa…Trowa, hold on,” I whisper, reaching up to check his pulse again.
“Heero, he needs help,” Quatre says and it sounds as though he’s struggling to hold back tears. “We need to get him to a doctor or he might not make it.”
“He’ll make it,” I say stubbornly, not wanting to think about what might happen if we don’t get him out of here in time. “Trowa’s strong. He won’t give in.” Keeping the material firmly in place over where he was shot, I wrap an arm around him, preparing to get him to his feet. “Help me lift him.”
Quatre hurries to obey, moving to Trowa’s other side and placing an arm around him and together, we get him up off the floor. He gasps in pain, his eyes jolting open and I can see that they’re glazed and unfocused. “Heero,” he says weakly and I place a finger to his lips.
“Don’t talk right now,” I whisper. “You need to save your strength.”
He shakes his head slowly. “I’m not going to make it,” he mutters as Quatre and I manage to get him out into the hallway.
“Don’t say that,” I tell him, my voice sounding strangely choked to my own ears. “We’re going to get you to a doctor, just hold on.”
“Can’t,” he mumbles, his eyes falling shut again. “Heero?” He’s struggling to speak and I shush him.
“Don’t speak,” I say tenderly.
His breathing hitches and he starts coughing, blood trickling out of the side of his mouth. I fight the urge to panic at the sight. “Hold…me?” he manages and I stumble, almost letting go of him. I tighten my grip on him and lower him to the floor with Quatre’s help. Trowa coughs weakly and I gather him into my arms, not caring that I’m getting covered in his blood. I hold him so tight that not even the Grim Reaper will be able to pull us apart.
“It’s okay, Tro,” I mutter, kissing his forehead, feeling him shudder against me. “It’s going to be alright.” I can’t help feeling like I’m lying though, but I can’t…I won’t accept what is happening here. “You’re not going to die. You can’t.” I choke back a sob, but the way he looks at me just breaks my heart. I can see it in his eyes. He’s giving up the fight. It’s not right! I think, wanting to scream. Trowa’s a fighter he never gives up!
I bury my face in his hair, hiding the tears that are welling up in my eyes. “Don’t you leave me, Trowa,” I whisper.
“Sorry,” he breathes nuzzling weakly against the side of my neck. “I… can’t…”
I feel my body wracked with sobs, I can hear the sound of Quatre crying openly, but I keep my eyes closed, keep my hold tight on Trowa. “It’ll be okay,” I whisper, repeating it over and over again like a mantra. If I just keep saying it, everything will be okay. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.
“Heero?” I don’t hear his voice at first, it’s so quiet, but I finally register that he’s calling for me and I pull back slightly so that I can see him. His face is tight with pain and I tenderly wipe away the blood at the corner of his mouth.
“Ssh, it’s alright,” I tell him desperately pressing kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, and his nose. He closes his eyes and his body shudders on a long sigh, then he stiffens, gasping sharply. “Trowa?” I say, now in full on panic mode. “Talk to me, Trowa.”
He forces his eyes open to look at me and I bite my lip hard so that the tears won’t fall. He lifts one trembling hand and I grasp it on my own, holding it to my cheek. “I…love you,” he whispers and his eyes fall shut as his body goes still. I shake him gently, but he doesn’t move,
“Trowa?” I shake him again, but get no response. No, this can’t be…” Trowa?” Still he doesn’t respond and I throw my head back on a long wail. “Noooo!”