By Liz

Come on….

Quatre urged himself to keep running, putting on a burst of speed. Dorothy followed close behind him; the two were running for the shuttle bay. They had completed their mission. Now they just had to escape – with their lives.

Shouts echoed down the corridor, and bullets suddenly showered the air around them. Quatre rolled against the wall and pulled out his gun. Dorothy crouched behind him. Quatre fired back down the hall until the bullets coming at them stopped. He tossed his gun away; he was out of ammo.

Quatre took Dorothy’s hand and pulled her to her feet. They would just have to hope they didn’t run into any more soldiers before they got to the shuttle bay. The two of them dashed off together, hand in hand.

As they prepared to round the next corner, though, a soldier stepped out into the corridor, his gun drawn. He smirked at the teenagers standing before him, and leveled the gun at Quatre’s head.

Quatre stared at the gun pointed between his eyes, and an icy fear seeped into his stomach.

The soldier narrowed his eyes and tightened his finger on the trigger –

But as the gun fired, Dorothy cried out and pushed herself in front of Quatre. The bullet caught her in the chest, and she collapsed into Quatre’s arms. He caught her numbly, staring, shocked, at the blood drenching his arms and pooling on the floor. He slowly lowered her to the ground.

The soldier snarled and raised the gun. But Quatre was suddenly filled with a fiery rage, and before the man could take aim, Quatre launched himself at him. The two men toppled to the ground. The soldier, stunned by Quatre’s sudden attack, had dropped his gun. Quatre retrieved it and scrambled to his feet, bringing it to bear on the soldier lying sprawled in front of him. He took aim –

• and pulled the trigger.

Quatre stood panting for a moment longer before he let the gun drop from his trembling fingers. It his the ground with a dull thunk.

Then he turned to Dorothy, who was lying on the ground struggling to breath.

Quatre fell to his knees beside her and took her head in his hands. He whispered her name, watching her face frantically for any signs of life.

Dorothy’s eyes flickered open slowly. "Quatre…" she murmured. She closed her eyes again and nuzzled her face against his hands.

Quatre settled himself beside her, cradling her head in his lap. He stroked her cheek reassurringly. "Don’t worry," he comforted her softly. "Everything’s going to be okay, just hold on. I’ll contact the others to get help." He began to take out his comm-unit. He knew the enemy soldiers would be able to track the signal and find him, but he didn’t care. He needed to get Dorothy help.

"No…" Dorothy whispered. "Don’t risk yourself for me." Her voice was hoarse, pained. "It’s too late anyway…."

"No!" Quatre cried. It wasn’t too late! She couldn’t die, not now – not now that they were engaged. Not now that they had planned a life together! "You can’t die! I’ll get help, just hold on a little longer!"

"Please don’t, Quatre. You know there’s no hope… just look at me."

"Dorothy…." Quatre began. He didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t bear the thought of losing her…. He hung his head, choking back a sob of anguish and frustration. It can’t be…. No!

"I used to hate you, Quatre," Dorothy whispered. She sighed and rested her head against him. "Long ago, during the war. I… I guess it was because you were so much stronger than me."

Quatre looked up at her, tears shining in his eyes. "Me… stronger than you?"

"Yes," she said. "We both went through the same terrible pain, the same ordeals – and you were the one who came through it all with a pure heart. I gave into my pain, felt sorry for myself, allowed myself to become violent and cold." She paused for breath, then continued. "And then I saw you, saw how I could have been if I’d been stronger. And I hated you for it. I hated you… because I respected and admired you. But I couldn’t admit it to myself."

She sighed, a soft, sad sound. "And then… on Libra…. You know why I did what I did? Because I finally realized that I loved you. And I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t forgive myself for being so soft. So I thought that if I got rid of you, I’d be strong again."

Dorothy paused. Quatre looked into her face, and saw that she was crying.

"But once it was done," she said softly through her tears, "I knew I’d been wrong. You showed me that I was wrong. And more importantly…." Here she smiled, and suddenly the weight of the pain she had borne throughout the war seemed to lift from her shoulders. "More importantly, you showed me that it wasn’t too late to save me – that I wasn’t beyond hope. And that’s what I loved you for above everything else. Because you wanted to help me, even when everyone else spat on me and shunned me. And you didn’t do it out of pity… you did it out of respect. And understanding. You loved me, despite all that I’d done, all that I was."

Here Dorothy stopped, for her strength was failing quickly now. Quatre rocked back and forth gently, silent tears flowing down his cheeks.

Dorothy took a deep breath. "You saved me, Quatre," she whispered. "I’m sorry we couldn’t have had a life together… we would have been happy." She closed her eyes and smiled. "Ever since I met you, you have given me both hope and the strength to live. Thank you."

Quatre looked at her face through his tears. "Oh, Dorothy," he whispered He gently touched her lips with the tips of his fingers. "I love you."

Dorothy kissed his fingers softly. Then he felt a final breath escape her lips, and her head weighed heavily in his arms.

Quatre bowed his head and gathered Dorothy close to him. His tears flowed down his cheeks and onto the floor, mixing with her blood there.

His broken sobs were the only sound in the long hallway.

~~~~~~End~~~~~~