|
"25 Days of Gundam Wing"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: R Warnings: Fluff, slight humor, drama. Warning
for gunshot, wound cauterization, and blood. Pairings: Heero/Quatre (friendship, bros spooning
to keep warm). Implied Trowa/Quatre. Summary: It’s Christmas Eve and Heero and Quatre are stranded after Heero becomes wounded. They seek shelter in an abandoned warehouse to hide from the enemy and escape the brutal Siberian winter while they wait for rescue. Prompt: Cold "25 Days of Gundam Wing " Chapter 5: Cold
OZ had seized an old civilian automobile plant. They’d converted the main building into a base of operations and the large plant was being used to build missiles. The site was chosen due to the secluded location which gave them a false sense of security. They hadn’t counted on the Gundam Pilots finding them. Heero had successfully hacked into OZ’s database using a remotely hijacked server and discovered the base. He recruited Quatre who’d been free of missions at the time and wasn’t too far away. They stashed Wing and Sandrock near the city of Belgorod and hiked through the woodlands along a winding river until they reached the town. They wore camouflage in colors of white and pale gray to blend in with the snowy wooded landscape. Underneath were layers of wool to ward off the freezing temperatures. Once they reached the base, they took out the two guards standing post, dragging the bodies into a ravine behind the plant. There, they stripped off their camouflage and replaced them with the guards’ uniforms. Using their confiscated rifles, the pilots infiltrated the complex and planted the bombs they carried in their packs. Unfortunately, their escape was thwarted and a brief firefight ensued. Quatre took out the remaining soldiers in the plant with his bullpup rifle and helped up a wounded Heero who’d been grazed in the thigh. By the time they got outside, they realized the alarms had been tripped and more OZ troops were on the way. They veered off into the forest in the hopes of losing their pursuers. Heero’s injured leg was losing blood quickly. Thankfully, it hadn’t nicked his artery, but the flesh wound was bleeding profusely and Quatre knew he had to get his friend to safety as soon as possible. It was getting dark, the white winter sky turning deep shades of gray, orange, and pink. They would need shelter away from the frigid winds if they hoped to survive the night. Quatre gave the injury a crude dressing that would have to do until they could get to a safe shelter. They slowly, but steadily made their way through the wooded terrain until they reached the abandoned remnants of a partially destroyed village. There was an old, dilapidated, but still standing warehouse. The structure’s concrete blocks were crumbling in parts and it appeared to have been hit by a bomb at some point, but it would have to suffice for the night. Quatre got Heero inside and carefully sat him in a corner in the innermost part of the warehouse, away from the howling winds. Then he went outside and checked the perimeter of the village to be sure there wasn’t anyone watching, or skulking about. He booby trapped every possible entry into the building with trip wire and small explosives and went back inside to tend to his partner. He found Heero right where he’d left him, holding a rag over the now sluggishly bleeding wound. Quatre grabbed his pack and fished out the first aid kit and stood up to remove his belt. Wrapping it around the injured man’s thigh, a few inches above the bullet hole, he pulled the leather tight to staunch the flow of blood. He retrieved a bottle of alcohol out of his bag and poured it over the injury, using a strip of cloth to wipe away any dirt and shrapnel. He fixed up a small pallet with sticks and twigs that had been strewn about and placed his thermal blanket over it. Heero would need to rest and replenish his blood supply. If they were discovered, his chances of getting away from OZ was minimal while in his weakened state. Quatre left his friend dozing on the pallet and went outside to find water to drink and wood to build a fire. There was a partially frozen river nearby, but the water flowed freely allowing him to fill two bottles. He found a hefty armful of fallen tree branches that he prayed would burn and keep them warm. He brought the bundle of sticks and bottles of water back to the building, quickly dug a shallow trench in the dirt floor, and arranged the branches into a pile. He groped around in his pack for some matches and tore a random strip of cloth from his uniformed slacks. He dipped one end of the strip into the alcohol and lit it with the match. Then he dropped the burning scrap of fabric onto the pile of sticks and within minutes, a warm fire was crackling away. Quatre pulled out his pocket knife and held it over the flames, killing any bacteria that might be living on the metal surface. Satisfied that it was clean, he crawled to the sleeping man and woke him. “Heero,” the blond whispered, careful not to startle the knee-jerk pilot. He really didn’t feel like having another gun in his face tonight. “Heero, I need you to wake up for a few minutes so I can cauterize your wound. I got some water, too. You need to stay hydrated.” Heero groaned, cracking lethargic eyelids open, dark blue eyes shimmering in the firelight. He mumbled tiredly, “So do you.” Quatre held up the two bottles. “I got one for me and one for you. I’ll head back down to the river in the morning before the sun comes up to get some more. It’s not far. The water is clean. Here.” He handed one bottle to Heero and helped him sit up. Heero thirstily chugged about half the bottle before setting it aside. Quatre pressed a cloth against his lips. “I’d give you a bullet to bite, but we might need those,” he joked. Heero snorted and opened his mouth to bite down on it, giving the other pilot a decisive nod to let him know he was ready. Quatre pressed the searing knife blade against the oozing hole, his face twisting in sympathy when Heero gritted his teeth around the cloth, breathing heavily through his nostrils as his flesh sizzled and smoked. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Once the wound was sealed, the skin around it blackened, Quatre pulled the knife away and held it over the fire to sterilize it again. He flipped the switch closed, setting it aside, and pulled Heero’s thermal blanket out of his bag. “This should keep you warm. You need as much rest as you can get. I’ll keep watch.” Heero shook his head and murmured, “No need. Come here.” He held one end of the blanket up. “You need to stay warm, too. It won’t do to have you coming down with hypothermia and Trowa would skin my hide if you froze to death,” he rasped, a hint of amusement in the curve of his mouth. Quatre smiled sheepishly and crawled under the blanket, laying on his side with his back against Heero’s chest. Heero wrapped the blanket and his arm around him and settled in behind him, his face pressed into the dirty blond hair. Quatre endured the not-so-subtle shifting, wondering how much sleep either of them were going to get. “Still hurts?” “It’s hard to get comfortable, sorry.” “It’s alright. I can give you an aspirin. Probably won’t do much good, though.” “It won’t. I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” Quatre hummed in relative agreement and closed his eyes, the whistle of the frigid wind blowing against the building lulling him into a light doze. His back was nice and toasty thanks to Heero’s body heat and he absurdly wished for another Heero to warm the front of his body. His thoughts began to slip together in ways that would have made little sense if he were fully awake. He didn’t know where the sudden thought came from, but he jolted awake a moment later when realization struck him like a bucket of ice water over his head. “Hey, it’s Christmas,” he announced, glancing at his watch. "Not the best way to spend it, is it?” Quatre shrugged as well as he could while lying on his side. “Well, depends on how you look at it, I guess.” He was rather enjoying the cuddles, even if it was mostly to keep warm. “You’re not the one with a hole in your leg, though.” Quatre chuckled. “I guess Duo can’t brag about being the only man who shot the great Heero Yuy anymore.” “Now that definitely puts me in the Christmas spirit.”
~ * ~ |
