Continue to Part 13
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!�