Authors Notes: Okay, yadda yadda, I don't own Gundam Wing, just borrowing their babes for a nine paragraph fic! Well everyone, this is my first fic posted. As a fore warning, this fic can be taken anyway you want it. If you are into the 1x2 parings, you might enjoy this. If you want nothing to do with yaoi, you might like this too! I would love comments and feedback! But please be nice. My hardly existant muse couldn't take anything harsh or brash. Thanks! ^_~
Iron Youth
Four other boys and myself. Who would have thought that we were the strongest opposing forces of OZ? Well the doctors must have thought us something special or we wouldn't be in this predicament. I look over at the figure resting on the bed behind me while I stand by the infirmary window. No movement but slow rising and falling of his chest to signal that he is still alive. We had fucked things up this time. The mission was a disaster and there Heero lie on the cot because he tried to sacrifice himself for the mission, and subconsciously I know that he did it for all of us too.
I know that things for Heero will get better as we continue. I know that we will continue as a force of five because Heero cannot be broken. His is the indestructible perfect solider.
An aphorism that Sister Helen told me when I was little rose to mind. "Life is going to give you just what you put in it. Put your whole heart in everything you do, and pray, then you can wait." If I prayed for Heero, hopefully the God that Sister Helen and Father Maxwell so faithfully believed in would come to my aid. Heero deserved so much better than this life of war torn hell. We were only kids that stood on the threshold of life. We had not even begun to take root. The war swept us away. But we did not break down, but adapted ourselves. Inside was awakened a sense of esprit de corps which developed into the finest thing that arose out of war - comradeship.[1] We were comrades. I would like to think that we are friends, but war does not allow that. Suspicion and authority take command and you do not allow yourself friendship because it could cost you your life. Trusting someone to much could lead to morbid ends. Ends that would come prematurely and violently.
I must have been here for hours by Heero, because I faintly remember Quatre had come in and spend time here. Wufei and Trowa did occasionally come in to see how he was doing, but I can hardly remember that. My whole body feels numb and my brain is fuzzy. I do not know if it is from the jarring that I unthankfuly received from Deathscythe or if it because I know that Heero is the only thing that got us out of that shit hole today and he is now lying here unmoving. The guy was just to fucking determined to give up his life. In war, life was cheap and death was entirely free, but Heero threw away his life like last months leftover dinner. A leftover dinner? It reminded me of the time that Wufei had found something lying in the back of the freezer that had been left there from the last time that we had used that safehouse. That was approximately a year and a half prior. I remember laughing and saying that it looked like a hairball that Cerubus [2] would have coughed up. But that was a different story.
My thoughts turned back to Heero. It was sad to see a young boy, no he was a young man, so hardened by things that males twice his age haven't experienced yet or might not ever encounter. A single tear slipped down my face. In disbelief, I rose my hand to my face where the salty wetness clung to my fingertips proving that I was indeed crying. There I stood crying over a childhood: lost; over an innocence: lost.
"God helps those who help themselves." Another of Sister Helen's aphorisms rang in my head. Heero certainly didn't help himself. I can teach him differently. I know that I can. Through my friendship, I know that I can change Heero. I know that I can make him respect himself again. I know that I can get him to enjoy life again. Again? Did Heero ever have the chance to respect himself or enjoy life? He was brought up as the perfect damn solider. He had probably never even taken the time to sit and enjoy the stars or to really listen to the laughter of children or the songs of the birds that flew so high in the sky. Times were few and far between when I could even do that myself, but did Heero even know small joys like that existed?
Small movement from the cot alerted me that Heero was awake. In three strides I was standing next to the bed. "Heero?" He mumbled something intelligible. "Heero, it’s Duo. How ya feelin' buddy?"
"Like death warmed over." His response was unexpected. My mouth gaped for moments before I burst out laughing.
"Heero you are going to make the fastest recovery yet." He mumbled something again that sounded something like, "Hn. Baka." But I could not be sure. I watched him turn his head from where I was standing and fall back asleep. Yes, there was hope for Heero Yuy yet. He would get better physically in no time, but I would revive his soul. I would make him human again.
~OWARI~
[1] Quote from "All Quiet On The Western Front"
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So what did ya think? Should I make a sequel? E-mail me!
Fic by Kitoshi
[2] The three headed dog of Hades (from Greek mythology).