Um…Sorry, but this isn’t that last part yet. I TRIED! I really did. It just didn’t work out that way, so there will be a part 10 and an epilogue after this. That should be it…I think. I’ll shut up now.
Disclaimer: The boys are not mine. Wish they were. If anyone wants to send them to me for a gift I’ll love you forever! ^_~.
WARNING: Violence. MEGA ANGST. Heero’s got some issues.
Okay. Send me feedback! ::on her knees:: PLEASE!!! I haven’t really gotten feedback to this ficcie and I’m thinking it’s either because no one likes it or no one is reading it. O.O Feedback at [email protected]
-->Ray-Chan
The gun fired only a second after the four pilots dropped to the floor. They scrambled to their feet and quickly dove behind the couch just as another shot split the silence. Duo slumped down warily, back pressed against the upholstery.
"He’s insane! Why is he trying to kill us?!"
Trowa peeked out from behind the couch, pulling his head back just as another bullet whizzed by.
"Doctor J. He must have done something to Heero. Probably replanted him with another computer chip."
"I knew I shouldn’t have let Heero go see that maniac alone. I knew it and I STILL didn’t do anything about it!" Quatre’s balled up fists twitched in anger. Wufei took Quatre’s hand in his and squeezed gently.
"It’s not your fault, Quatre. You couldn’t have known this would happen." He looked up, trying to see past the top of the couch. "We have to do something now, or we’re all dead. Heero has good aim ad I doubt he’ll keep missing."
Quatre nodded, impressed by how Wufei could remain so calm in such a situation. Trowa got to his knees and crouched down before the others.
"Let’s split up and try to overpower Heero." His gaze shifted downward. "If someone goes down…the rest of us keep going, okay?" Quatre’s eyes widened, the full magnitude of the situation finally crashing down about him and he didn’t like it. Trowa continued.
"Wufei, you and Duo take the left, Quatre and I will go right." His hand rested on the gun protruding from his jeans pocket. "Whatever it takes, we have to stop him," His gaze drifted to Quatre, a suddenly sad expression on his face as he repeated it. "Whatever it takes."
The boys took position behind the couch, Quatre and Trowa on the right, Wufei and Duo on the left. They paused and took a deep breath before Trowa nodded.
"NOW!"
And all Hell broke loose.
Quatre wasn’t sure if it was the stress of the day or the surreal turn of the current situation that seemed to make the world spin about him. He vaguely noticed Trowa grabbing Heero’s arm, his cry of pain as the Japanese boy threw him sprawling to the floor where he lay panting, unable to move.
Duo was next to try and stop Heero. Literally jumping onto Heero’s back, he attempted to wrestle the other pilot to the floor, but was thrown off just as easily as Trowa had been. Hitting the couch roughly, Quatre watched, frozen, as Duo toppled over the back and out of sight.
Wufei gave a cry of pure rage as he attacked at full throttle. Swinging a fist at Heero, the look on his face turned to shock as his hand was caught by the Wing pilot in mid swing. A sharp snapping of bone echoed through Quatre’s ears, but he could do nothing even as Wufei fell to the floor, clutching his broken wrist tightly, his eyes glazed over with pain.
Heero’s turned to Quatre and began to approach ominously, his muscles drawn tight in anticipation. Quatre couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe as Heero stalked toward him displaying all the grace and beauty of a panther on the hunt.
The Japanese boy stopped suddenly though, eyes open wide and he began to shake. He looked straight at Quatre, and the blonde stared back. Heero’s lips parted in a quiet plea.
"Please, Quatre. Get out of here. I-I don’t want to hurt you. Please go."
Quatre stared but didn’t move. This was Heero talking to him. The REAL Heero Yuy. The boy he had grown to love so much within the past few days, whom he had depended on for support up to now. His gaze remained locked on the cobalt blue eyes, searching for something he knew was there. Such pain hidden within. Quatre could feel it and he shuddered as the cold enveloped him.
"I-I can’t leave, Heero. I can’t leave you like this."
The momentary softness left Heero’s eyes like the passing of a breeze. Only the icy chill of one who is already dead in spirit remained.
"Then I have to kill you."
And so, he raised his gun and took careful aim for Quatre’s chest. One shot and it would all be over. Something inside him refused to allow Quatre suffering. This way it would all end. Quatre closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable flash of pain…but it never came.
His eyes opened slightly. There before him, Heero and Trowa wrestled for control of the gun still gripped tightly in the Wing pilot’s hand. The banged boy had somehow managed to drag himself to his feet and tackle Heero just before the gun triggered to go off. Slamming his elbow into Heero’s stomach, Trowa had just managed to take possession of the gun, when Heero threw a roundhouse kick to Trowa’s chest, sending him tumbling to the floor. The gun flew from his hand and far out of reach of both pilots, landing on the carpet with a soft thud. Trowa groaned and clutched his chest, blood splattering from his mouth with each cough.
Duo appeared behind Quatre. Eyeing Heero as he would an enemy mobile suit, the braided boy suddenly screamed a battle cry and charged the Wing pilot sending Heero crashing into the wall. Heero looked up slightly dazed, his gaze resting first on Quatre, then on Duo. His lips curling into a snarl of rage, Heero shifted slightly to his left until the cool glass of the living room window met his outstretched fingers. He gave an slight smile, practically dripping with evil, before swinging his arm full force into the window.
Quatre screamed and dropped to floor, shielding his head from the spray of glass shards which passed over them. Duo just watched in shock as Heero pulled his arm back through the broken window, displaying the deep cuts and slivers of glass which protruded from his arm, the entire length smeared and dripping with his own life’s blood. Duo gaped, frozen as Heero calmly bent down and retrieved a large shard of broken glass from the floor and approached him.
"Heero…Pl-Pleas don’t! I...We don’t want to hurt you!"
Heero gave a sharp laugh before slicing at the braided pilot, cutting a deep path in his shirt from Duo’s collarbone to his navel. Red liquid began to seep through, and Duo stared at Heero mouth open wide as he panted, pleading silently. Heero ignored the look, edging closer before grabbing Duo by the braid and pressing the sharpest end of the glass to the hollow of his throat. Duo closed his eyes and whimpered slightly, the pain coursing through him when the shard pierced his skin and began to slice his neck in one fluid movement.
The cutting stopped even though the pain remained, and Duo turned back to see Heero stagger away uncertainly, before reaching behind himself to pull a particularly thick piece of broken glass from his back where Wufei had managed to lodge it. The Chinese pilot watched from his position leaning on a wooden den chair eyes slightly closed, still in pain. Heero glared at him then, all his hatred focused on that one point and he growled as he walked toward the pilot slumped over the piece of furniture.
Viciously pulling the chair out from under Wufei, Heero watched with an evil smirk as the Shenlong pilot tumbled to the floor, landing on his back and staring up as Heero, eyes widened in fear. Heero lifted the chair up easily, hoisting the wooden frame over his head and staring down at Wufei with a look that would chill the dead. Wufei cringed indeed.
"Good-bye, Wufei." Heero’s evil laughter choked the room. "You were always such a pest."
The sharp report rang through the room and settled over the five within. Quatre’s eyes widened and he turned to look about him.
Who fired the gun?
A glance down at the smoldering piece of metal clenched tightly in his own hands and he knew the answer. He gazed up at the others. Trowa watched him quietly from the floor, not making any move toward him. Duo’s hands wrapped tightly around his throat in an effort to stop the bleeding, but he gazed at Quatre warily. Wufei seemed stunned by the sudden turn of events. But it was when Quatre saw Heero standing there, a bloodied hole torn in his side that everything made sense to the blonde boy. The chair fell from Heero’s hands, crashing over Wufei and splintering upon contact with the floor.
"Quatre…I…"
Heero collapsed without another sound, slipping away into the darkness he knew too well.
Quatre remained there, noticing the looks the others were giving him, but for all the world, he didn’t care. Making his way over to the fallen form of his Love, he slumped down beside, Heero…and cried.