Another Day by Agent Midnight
Standard disclaimers apply
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 depree
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 oppurtunity.
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 anounce, 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 the boss. If that boss would have 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 debonaire
exit from the building like they do in the movies.
That escape was ruined by this lone soldier on the floor in front
of us. He had seen us, apparantly, 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 fowards 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, supressing 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 foward 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 pourng 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.
*******
The End
*******
Back to Agent Midnight's Fan
Fictions
Back to Fan Fiction Index