Take These Broken Wings
Posted: Sun Feb 02, 2003 9:37 pm
Disclaimer:I don’t own Gundam Wing?. I only own the angst of my life, my stories. Enjoy the sadness, let it flow! Err…
Dedication:To all who love the angst!
Take These Broken Wings
By: Lynzi Knight
Rating: PG-13 / R
Her hands shook uncontrollably, her eyes wide in disbelief and shock. Beads of saliva dotted her lips at the effort it had taken her to fire the pistol. The barrel of the black weapon smoked, the hazy tendrils wavering up into the air to disappear into nothing, knowing their job was over. What had she done? What had he ever done to deserve this? It just wasn’t fair! How was she supposed to know he was in disguise? No one else seemed to know either, or they would’ve warned her before hand. He had just walked in here, his own gun raised, pointed directly at her. But it had been too late, when she had poured her third bullet into him. She remembered painfully, then, as he had jerked beneath the impact of the gunshots, his Oz cap falling from the head of brown, unruly hair that she had loved so much, that she had just made the biggest mistake in her entire life.
Everyone was with her, having come to rescue her from her dark prison in the deep mazes of the underground complex. She just hadn’t known that he was going to show up. God, how could she have been so stupid? She should’ve known that he was close by. Her brother, her friends, they all gaped at her in mute surprise. The gun went cold in her hands, then dead. She had an urge to drop it, to run to him in his one last desperate time of need. Was this their tragic end? Was this how it would all vanish, as if it had never even started? Of all the times they had been together, this was the one time where he needed love, to be loved till death took him into its inky depths and left her empty-handed with love she could give no one else.
But if he went, he was taking her love for him along for the planned two-seated ride with the infamous Grim Reaper.
Everything, since the beginning, had happened in slow motion, granting her no escape of what fate had dealt—such a rotten hand. She kept a tight grip on the gun, letting her arms fall to her sides. She watched as he stared at her with dull, dead eyes, choking on the blood that began to flood his lungs. He fell to his knees, struggling not to show any weaknesses, looking as though he wouldn’t give up for her. Then he braced himself with a hand, as his body pitched forward quickly. The debris that littered the dark, dank room was sinister, jagged, and dirty. Everything then kicked into motion, sending incredible emotions straight to her head. Tears blurred her vision suddenly. From the corner of her eye, she saw her brother and everyone beginning to move towards her and their fallen comrade.
She shook her head with such a force; her tears were free and dripped down her pale cheeks. “No! Leave me, and leave him. Let me… Let me talk to him, privately.” She waved a heavy arm at them to hold them at bay.
“Relena, give us the gun, then,” Duo Maxwell said gently, in a coaxing voice. He reached for the weapon that had injured his friend.
“No, Duo. It’s a comfort to me; don’t take that last thing from me,” Relena Peacecraft murmured, her expression and tone deadpan. He could tell, however, how much she hurt. She didn’t need to express it; her eyes spoke everything she didn’t say out loud.
They all watched her as she began to walk over to the man she had made love to so many times, woke up to, played around with. No one knew of their one big secret, though, they never would. This secret was over now, it was dead, it would die soon. She watched with a watery gaze, as the man in front of her spat out blood, letting it ooze from his lips as it mingled with saliva. As she finally reached him, she knelt down in front of him and put the gun to the ground beside her folded legs. Stretching out her arms to him, she grabbed him gently and carefully turned him over so he lay in her lap. The sight of him only made her cry all the harder. In her arms, cradled with a tender touch, she felt him shudder as the bullets settled deeper into his flesh and lungs.
What was there left for her to do for him? From the looks of it, and him, nothing at all.
Staring down into his eyes, she watched the once rich, fiery blue fade some more, leaving behind a dull, ugly, sickly white with a hint of pale azure where his iris’ were located. Relena closed her eyes, shaking her head at what had happened, what was about to happen, and how she couldn’t do anything but hold him in his last few minutes. Sobbing out his name quietly, loud enough for him to hear, as sadness overwhelmed her, she crushed him within the circle of her arms, bringing his body up a bit. She buried her head into his neck and cried her heart out. She heard him hiss out his pains through clenched teeth, then felt a hand touch the side of her bare arm. It was a gentle, caring touch, she knew, coming from him. He was comforting her in his time of death.
Relena slowly lifted her head, suddenly feeling ashamed of her tears. She released her tight grip, letting him rest again on her knees. He let his eyes slide shut. She feared the worst. With a feather-soft touch, she tenderly caressed his handsome face, brushing aside some of his sweat-dampened hair from his brow, and let her fingers trace the hard contours of his nose, eyebrows and cheeks. At last he opened his eyes, feeling the touch. A slight smirk lift his blood-covered lips. God, he was so gorgeous, she thought absentmindedly, letting a smile lift her own trembling lips. He lifted a hand with great effort, bought his fingers to the back of her neck and gently dragged her head down towards his. She noticed that tears floated in his eyes, shimmied out of the corners to travel down the sides of his face.
“Oh, Heero,” she moaned, sobbing. “You’re going to be all right.”
Heero Yuy sucked in a sharp breath suddenly, coughing up blood, his body racked by a sickening cough. “You’re lying.” He then, to her surprise, flashed her a weak smile. “But even in death…I forgive you.”
She swallowed thickly past the lump of tears clogging her throat. More droplets of silver streamed down her cheeks at the sincere comment. “Heero,” she began, trembling, “why did you do that? You know I’ll never live without you.”
He scoffed, “Don’t start speaking like an idiot, Relena.”
“But what’s the point for a child to grow up without a father?” she demanded, despite her pain and heartache.
“Child? What do…” He began to cough again, more blood dribbling from his mouth this time. His breathing had become labored.
Relena shook her head. “Heero, no more speaking. Save your strength!” She brought one of his large hands, a hand that knew her body so well, to her mouth and kissed the callused fingers with love. The desperate plea then slipped from her lips, a demand she had kept inside for a while now. “Please don’t die on me, Heero!”
Her tears glistened within her eyes before escaping to glide over his fingers. He convulsed under the warmth of her love. He could feel his heart trying to hold on, for her. He had to; just to say a proper goodbye to the one woman he had been planning to marry after they got her free of this place. He shuddered, his body determined to last a few seconds longer, and stared up into her deep cerulean eyes, quickly memorizing her stunning face, the way her tears made her look so much more alive. She deserved better, although he had a feeling he’d see her soon again. At least he wouldn’t be lonely. He felt his heart then constrict agonizingly, like being grasped by a vise and squeezed without warning. Time wasn’t on his side, death was. It was beginning to win. He managed to catch his breath, to cease the convulsions that shook his legs, arms and body.
“Love…me?” Heero managed to bite out in an excruciating, restricted breath. The color faded more from his eyes, his face. Blood decorated the front of his OZ uniform.
Relena felt her heart twist at the sudden words. A moan escaped her throat, and she found herself weeping freely, the pain being too much to bear. “Love you,” she whispered tearfully, fiercely, kissing his hand. She lowered her head to his then, and stared into his eyes.
“Love you,” Heero whispered in a trembling voice. He felt her lips then brush against his. They were so soft, gentle, trembled, tasted of pain, blood—his blood, he reminded himself wearily—and sorrow. Putting the last of his strength into his end of the kiss, he felt the pain grow within his heart. “Love…you, Rele…” He didn’t have the time to finish. Death took him away from her, away from her love, the one thing he ached for.
Everything inside tightened unbearably before quivering, and then going still.
Relena kept her mouth to his for a moment longer; letting his last words register slowly. His untimely death would need a longer time, however. The metal of the gun was cool against her bare legs. She had forgotten about that…. The torn skirts did nothing for warmth, but did wonders for privacy. She took her mouth from his, pressed a kiss to his still-warm forehead, whispered a few inaudible words and then sat back to stare at him. Hate and anger hit her hard like a tidal wave. Those feelings were for the fact that he had left her, that he had let himself die. The expression that was washed across his hard face was one of peace and immobility. The deadpan look was forever gone, having left seconds before death came to lat claim to her only love. Behind her, she heard her friends and family moving. She wished that they hadn’t been here, hadn’t come to save her. She wished for them to just disappear.
“Don’t, please.” She didn’t bother to glance back at them. She didn’t care to control the trembling within her voice. Let them hear her pain and loss.
“Relena, let’s go. We’ll carry his body out of here,” Duo spoke in a tearful voice. He hadn’t shed any tears; his voice did it for him. “You’re in shock. Let’s just go home.”
Everyone nodded his or her agreement.
She didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to leave him alone. The rage only grew within at the thought of her lack of common sense. This was one reason why she never used a dangerous weapon. Fury mixed with loss and anguish. As she reached for the gun, everyone froze in their steps, unsure of what to do next. If they wrestled her for the gun, someone would get hurt, and even if they didn’t wrestle her for the gun, someone would still end up getting hurt. Letting her finger caress the curve of the trigger, she began to feel comforted by the feel. She then stood, revolver in hand, and stepped over the corpse of her lover to sit cross-legged, facing everyone, on the other side of the body. Thoughts, millions of them, raced through her mind. The shocked expressions on everyone’s face amused her. The only one not showing shock over the matter was the man from the L3 Cluster.
Trowa Barton didn’t speak, only shook his head, his intense stare filled with an endless story of his own dull pain and breakdown. She didn’t care what he thought, though, or about what everyone else had to say about this matter. It didn’t concern them; they didn’t know how to love like he had loved her. His love had been unique, something that filled her with an aching need for more. That dull pain only intensified after he had left her alone in this big world. She cocked back the hammer slowly, watching them, watched how their expressions turned easily from astonishment to horror.
Her brother, the man who had watched her blossom into an attractive, mature woman in concealment, extended a hand out to her, his deep royal blue eyes wide in apprehension and compassion. “Don’t do this, Relena. This is foolish.”
Tears began to prick her sight again. Her chin quivered, her lips trembling with the sudden movement. She furrowed her straight brows in trying to understand the emotions that coursed through her body, her veins. Suddenly she began to sob loudly, letting her pitiful cries hit their hearts. They had never seen her so distraught before. It scared them. She saw how much her pain affected them, caused them to hurt, and made them ache with what had happened over the last twenty-four hours. She shook her head, looking at each one of their faces. She knew what they were thinking, they were thinking of how they could stop her. Well, she knew, they couldn’t. They wouldn’t dare.
Slowly, Relena brought the gun to her mouth, while caressing the ashen face of her love in front of her.
“Relena!” Miliardo screamed. Then added, hissing, “Stop this! Think of what you are doing. Be reasonable!”
She paused. The relief in everyone’s face was clear. The tip of the gun just whispered against her lips. She looked at her brother with the last affection she could ever give someone. “I was and am being reasonable! Can you not see? Death is the one that needs to be reasonable.” She trailed off to weep, to control her tears, and then went on, not caring for the beads of crystal that stained her now anger-flushed face. “You’ll never come to understand such a loss. I am now dead. Take care of the world, brother, I’ll no longer be allowed to carry such a burden. It’s all up to you now.
“Don’t let me down.” She pushed the gun into her mouth, trembling at what it would feel like to die this way. She struggled not to cry, to lose control at such a time as this. The end of the barrel bumped against the roof of her mouth, tasting like gunpowder and cool steel. Staring directly into the eyes of her only family, she swallowed once more before her finger moved, and pulled the trigger.
“Relena, no!” Miliardo cried in an emotion-torn voice. Too late. The echo of the blast lasted a moment longer, ripping into every dark corner and crevice. They hadn’t been able to see the blood and gore that had erupted from the back of her head. Everyone watched in renewed shock as the gun fell from her mouth and landed between the two bodies. Crimson, as free as a river, poured from the dead lips. Her body had fallen to the side, her arm falling to rest on the deceased man’s still chest.
A princess and her knight, together, even in death, forever and ever.
~Fini
Dedication:To all who love the angst!
Take These Broken Wings
By: Lynzi Knight
Rating: PG-13 / R
Her hands shook uncontrollably, her eyes wide in disbelief and shock. Beads of saliva dotted her lips at the effort it had taken her to fire the pistol. The barrel of the black weapon smoked, the hazy tendrils wavering up into the air to disappear into nothing, knowing their job was over. What had she done? What had he ever done to deserve this? It just wasn’t fair! How was she supposed to know he was in disguise? No one else seemed to know either, or they would’ve warned her before hand. He had just walked in here, his own gun raised, pointed directly at her. But it had been too late, when she had poured her third bullet into him. She remembered painfully, then, as he had jerked beneath the impact of the gunshots, his Oz cap falling from the head of brown, unruly hair that she had loved so much, that she had just made the biggest mistake in her entire life.
Everyone was with her, having come to rescue her from her dark prison in the deep mazes of the underground complex. She just hadn’t known that he was going to show up. God, how could she have been so stupid? She should’ve known that he was close by. Her brother, her friends, they all gaped at her in mute surprise. The gun went cold in her hands, then dead. She had an urge to drop it, to run to him in his one last desperate time of need. Was this their tragic end? Was this how it would all vanish, as if it had never even started? Of all the times they had been together, this was the one time where he needed love, to be loved till death took him into its inky depths and left her empty-handed with love she could give no one else.
But if he went, he was taking her love for him along for the planned two-seated ride with the infamous Grim Reaper.
Everything, since the beginning, had happened in slow motion, granting her no escape of what fate had dealt—such a rotten hand. She kept a tight grip on the gun, letting her arms fall to her sides. She watched as he stared at her with dull, dead eyes, choking on the blood that began to flood his lungs. He fell to his knees, struggling not to show any weaknesses, looking as though he wouldn’t give up for her. Then he braced himself with a hand, as his body pitched forward quickly. The debris that littered the dark, dank room was sinister, jagged, and dirty. Everything then kicked into motion, sending incredible emotions straight to her head. Tears blurred her vision suddenly. From the corner of her eye, she saw her brother and everyone beginning to move towards her and their fallen comrade.
She shook her head with such a force; her tears were free and dripped down her pale cheeks. “No! Leave me, and leave him. Let me… Let me talk to him, privately.” She waved a heavy arm at them to hold them at bay.
“Relena, give us the gun, then,” Duo Maxwell said gently, in a coaxing voice. He reached for the weapon that had injured his friend.
“No, Duo. It’s a comfort to me; don’t take that last thing from me,” Relena Peacecraft murmured, her expression and tone deadpan. He could tell, however, how much she hurt. She didn’t need to express it; her eyes spoke everything she didn’t say out loud.
They all watched her as she began to walk over to the man she had made love to so many times, woke up to, played around with. No one knew of their one big secret, though, they never would. This secret was over now, it was dead, it would die soon. She watched with a watery gaze, as the man in front of her spat out blood, letting it ooze from his lips as it mingled with saliva. As she finally reached him, she knelt down in front of him and put the gun to the ground beside her folded legs. Stretching out her arms to him, she grabbed him gently and carefully turned him over so he lay in her lap. The sight of him only made her cry all the harder. In her arms, cradled with a tender touch, she felt him shudder as the bullets settled deeper into his flesh and lungs.
What was there left for her to do for him? From the looks of it, and him, nothing at all.
Staring down into his eyes, she watched the once rich, fiery blue fade some more, leaving behind a dull, ugly, sickly white with a hint of pale azure where his iris’ were located. Relena closed her eyes, shaking her head at what had happened, what was about to happen, and how she couldn’t do anything but hold him in his last few minutes. Sobbing out his name quietly, loud enough for him to hear, as sadness overwhelmed her, she crushed him within the circle of her arms, bringing his body up a bit. She buried her head into his neck and cried her heart out. She heard him hiss out his pains through clenched teeth, then felt a hand touch the side of her bare arm. It was a gentle, caring touch, she knew, coming from him. He was comforting her in his time of death.
Relena slowly lifted her head, suddenly feeling ashamed of her tears. She released her tight grip, letting him rest again on her knees. He let his eyes slide shut. She feared the worst. With a feather-soft touch, she tenderly caressed his handsome face, brushing aside some of his sweat-dampened hair from his brow, and let her fingers trace the hard contours of his nose, eyebrows and cheeks. At last he opened his eyes, feeling the touch. A slight smirk lift his blood-covered lips. God, he was so gorgeous, she thought absentmindedly, letting a smile lift her own trembling lips. He lifted a hand with great effort, bought his fingers to the back of her neck and gently dragged her head down towards his. She noticed that tears floated in his eyes, shimmied out of the corners to travel down the sides of his face.
“Oh, Heero,” she moaned, sobbing. “You’re going to be all right.”
Heero Yuy sucked in a sharp breath suddenly, coughing up blood, his body racked by a sickening cough. “You’re lying.” He then, to her surprise, flashed her a weak smile. “But even in death…I forgive you.”
She swallowed thickly past the lump of tears clogging her throat. More droplets of silver streamed down her cheeks at the sincere comment. “Heero,” she began, trembling, “why did you do that? You know I’ll never live without you.”
He scoffed, “Don’t start speaking like an idiot, Relena.”
“But what’s the point for a child to grow up without a father?” she demanded, despite her pain and heartache.
“Child? What do…” He began to cough again, more blood dribbling from his mouth this time. His breathing had become labored.
Relena shook her head. “Heero, no more speaking. Save your strength!” She brought one of his large hands, a hand that knew her body so well, to her mouth and kissed the callused fingers with love. The desperate plea then slipped from her lips, a demand she had kept inside for a while now. “Please don’t die on me, Heero!”
Her tears glistened within her eyes before escaping to glide over his fingers. He convulsed under the warmth of her love. He could feel his heart trying to hold on, for her. He had to; just to say a proper goodbye to the one woman he had been planning to marry after they got her free of this place. He shuddered, his body determined to last a few seconds longer, and stared up into her deep cerulean eyes, quickly memorizing her stunning face, the way her tears made her look so much more alive. She deserved better, although he had a feeling he’d see her soon again. At least he wouldn’t be lonely. He felt his heart then constrict agonizingly, like being grasped by a vise and squeezed without warning. Time wasn’t on his side, death was. It was beginning to win. He managed to catch his breath, to cease the convulsions that shook his legs, arms and body.
“Love…me?” Heero managed to bite out in an excruciating, restricted breath. The color faded more from his eyes, his face. Blood decorated the front of his OZ uniform.
Relena felt her heart twist at the sudden words. A moan escaped her throat, and she found herself weeping freely, the pain being too much to bear. “Love you,” she whispered tearfully, fiercely, kissing his hand. She lowered her head to his then, and stared into his eyes.
“Love you,” Heero whispered in a trembling voice. He felt her lips then brush against his. They were so soft, gentle, trembled, tasted of pain, blood—his blood, he reminded himself wearily—and sorrow. Putting the last of his strength into his end of the kiss, he felt the pain grow within his heart. “Love…you, Rele…” He didn’t have the time to finish. Death took him away from her, away from her love, the one thing he ached for.
Everything inside tightened unbearably before quivering, and then going still.
Relena kept her mouth to his for a moment longer; letting his last words register slowly. His untimely death would need a longer time, however. The metal of the gun was cool against her bare legs. She had forgotten about that…. The torn skirts did nothing for warmth, but did wonders for privacy. She took her mouth from his, pressed a kiss to his still-warm forehead, whispered a few inaudible words and then sat back to stare at him. Hate and anger hit her hard like a tidal wave. Those feelings were for the fact that he had left her, that he had let himself die. The expression that was washed across his hard face was one of peace and immobility. The deadpan look was forever gone, having left seconds before death came to lat claim to her only love. Behind her, she heard her friends and family moving. She wished that they hadn’t been here, hadn’t come to save her. She wished for them to just disappear.
“Don’t, please.” She didn’t bother to glance back at them. She didn’t care to control the trembling within her voice. Let them hear her pain and loss.
“Relena, let’s go. We’ll carry his body out of here,” Duo spoke in a tearful voice. He hadn’t shed any tears; his voice did it for him. “You’re in shock. Let’s just go home.”
Everyone nodded his or her agreement.
She didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to leave him alone. The rage only grew within at the thought of her lack of common sense. This was one reason why she never used a dangerous weapon. Fury mixed with loss and anguish. As she reached for the gun, everyone froze in their steps, unsure of what to do next. If they wrestled her for the gun, someone would get hurt, and even if they didn’t wrestle her for the gun, someone would still end up getting hurt. Letting her finger caress the curve of the trigger, she began to feel comforted by the feel. She then stood, revolver in hand, and stepped over the corpse of her lover to sit cross-legged, facing everyone, on the other side of the body. Thoughts, millions of them, raced through her mind. The shocked expressions on everyone’s face amused her. The only one not showing shock over the matter was the man from the L3 Cluster.
Trowa Barton didn’t speak, only shook his head, his intense stare filled with an endless story of his own dull pain and breakdown. She didn’t care what he thought, though, or about what everyone else had to say about this matter. It didn’t concern them; they didn’t know how to love like he had loved her. His love had been unique, something that filled her with an aching need for more. That dull pain only intensified after he had left her alone in this big world. She cocked back the hammer slowly, watching them, watched how their expressions turned easily from astonishment to horror.
Her brother, the man who had watched her blossom into an attractive, mature woman in concealment, extended a hand out to her, his deep royal blue eyes wide in apprehension and compassion. “Don’t do this, Relena. This is foolish.”
Tears began to prick her sight again. Her chin quivered, her lips trembling with the sudden movement. She furrowed her straight brows in trying to understand the emotions that coursed through her body, her veins. Suddenly she began to sob loudly, letting her pitiful cries hit their hearts. They had never seen her so distraught before. It scared them. She saw how much her pain affected them, caused them to hurt, and made them ache with what had happened over the last twenty-four hours. She shook her head, looking at each one of their faces. She knew what they were thinking, they were thinking of how they could stop her. Well, she knew, they couldn’t. They wouldn’t dare.
Slowly, Relena brought the gun to her mouth, while caressing the ashen face of her love in front of her.
“Relena!” Miliardo screamed. Then added, hissing, “Stop this! Think of what you are doing. Be reasonable!”
She paused. The relief in everyone’s face was clear. The tip of the gun just whispered against her lips. She looked at her brother with the last affection she could ever give someone. “I was and am being reasonable! Can you not see? Death is the one that needs to be reasonable.” She trailed off to weep, to control her tears, and then went on, not caring for the beads of crystal that stained her now anger-flushed face. “You’ll never come to understand such a loss. I am now dead. Take care of the world, brother, I’ll no longer be allowed to carry such a burden. It’s all up to you now.
“Don’t let me down.” She pushed the gun into her mouth, trembling at what it would feel like to die this way. She struggled not to cry, to lose control at such a time as this. The end of the barrel bumped against the roof of her mouth, tasting like gunpowder and cool steel. Staring directly into the eyes of her only family, she swallowed once more before her finger moved, and pulled the trigger.
“Relena, no!” Miliardo cried in an emotion-torn voice. Too late. The echo of the blast lasted a moment longer, ripping into every dark corner and crevice. They hadn’t been able to see the blood and gore that had erupted from the back of her head. Everyone watched in renewed shock as the gun fell from her mouth and landed between the two bodies. Crimson, as free as a river, poured from the dead lips. Her body had fallen to the side, her arm falling to rest on the deceased man’s still chest.
A princess and her knight, together, even in death, forever and ever.
~Fini
