"Dust in the Wind"

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters

Rating: R

Warnings: angst, language but good ending

Pairings: 1+2 working on 1x2

"Dust in the Wind "

I close my eyes only for a moment and the moment's gone.
All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity.
Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind.

******

Heero Yuy never gave much thought about what happened at the end, that finite moment between here and gone. War doesn't conform to rational rules. Bad intel, miscalculations, win-at-all-cost missions, egomaniacal commanders or unpredicted betrayals. Each probability could set his conclusion in motion.

Ironically, despite methodical training and inherent instincts, an uncharacteristic lapse in concentration became the agent of impending demise. Stray sensations. Remnants of recollections. Inattention triggered by a kiss.

******

~Flashback~

Interstellar Battlecruiser Sunhawk.

Five Gundams await activation. Five pilots perform pre-launch inspections.

Deathscythe Hell and Wing Zero side by side.

Clad in a body-hugging flight suit, Duo Maxwell inquires with a cocky grin. "Ready to kick Ozzie ass?"

Heero pauses in examining twin joint couplings and warns, "Overconfidence is dangerous."

"Don't fret about attitude." Duo states sternly. The grin vanishes. "Damn right, when it comes to fightin' I'm as dangerous as a supernova."

"You disregard protocol." Heero affirms from previous experience.

A purposeful swagger transports Duo to his uncompromising counterpart. Not caring about techs, mechanics and flight crews or if Winner, Barton and Chang disapprove, he proclaims, "Fuck protocol."

Then, leaning closer, he whispers "Love you." before planting a lustful kiss squarely on Heero's mouth.

Before Heero can react or protest, the self-proclaimed God of Death grabs his helmet and scurries into his mock human warrior. A whoosh of air secures the hatch.

Perplexity swamping mind and heart, Heero stares up at Deathscythe shrouded in black demon wings. Tinted shield plating offers no aspect of the enigmatic pilot codenamed 02.

Lips tingling, Heero murmurs under the breath, "Duo."

~End Flashback~

******

Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea.
All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see.
Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind.

******

Midst of battle. Fury of the fray.

One brief breach in focus. Failure to notice tight clusters of blips on the radar screen. Recalling a kiss. Unaware until a swarm of Mobile Dolls stings Wing over and over again.

01 and Wing respond in kind. Skill, aptitude, tenacious determination dispatches the soulless machines. Still, Fate refuses to intervene. Pilot and Gundam do not triumph unscathed.

Battery backup casts eerie green over the battered cockpit's interior. Control panels inoperative. Communications silent. Enviro-regulators compromised.

Fortunately, hatch seals are intact. Unfortunately, eight layers of insulated flight suit material and pressurized helmet won't stave off subzero cold forever.

"What the hell," Heero sighs in resignation, "oxygen will deplete before I freeze to death."

******

Now don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky.
It slips away and all your money won't another minute buy.
Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind.

******

Space is a vast, perpetual vacuum studded with chunks of lifeless rock, vaporous fireballs and ravenous black holes. The single exception within this desolate universe is Earth. Gravity and atmosphere. Terra firma and water. Daylight. Darkness. Seasons.

Seeds from stars, planted eons ago, evolved into sentient beings. Since that first primal twinkle of cosmic awareness humanity has been seduced by the stars. Thousands of centuries later astral wanderlust enticed mankind to fabricate conveyances and escape the bonds of Earth.

Artificial habitations designated as Colonies, anchored in place at Lagrange Points by equal gravitational forces, necklaced the Earth. However, human inclinations for conflict was not altered by the celestial exodus.

Earth refused to recognize Colonial independence. The Untied Earth Sphere Alliance established Martial Law. In the guise of shooting stars five extraordinary Gundams and five exceptional pilots launched "Operation Meteor" to abolish the UESA's tyrannical control.

Now Heero Yuy—Pacifist's name sake. Assassin's apprentice. Doctor J's Perfect Soldier—has come full circle.

******

Aftermath.

Disunited wreckage of Dolls drift aimlessly. Vestiges of manned Mobile Suits, corpses cocooned in mangled cockpits, straggle erratically. Whole but unresponsive, Wing is eclipsed by the shattered dregs of battle. Heero stares across the endless debris field with no unrealistic expectations. Odds of detection and retrieval are near impossible.

Breaths warmer than external air, Jack Frost crystals etch the margins of his faceplate. Gloved fingers inflexible. Arms and legs heavy. Diminished perceptions flicker like dying embers.

A voice, vague yet familiar, asks, "Think we'll ever see a moon like this again?"

Heero closes his eyes, accepts the inevitable farcical finale. "Dammit, Duo." is whispered in reply to the wordless query. "Why are you so confounding?"

******

Silence.

Winter.

IMPACT!

Wing shudders.

Distorted senses registers the forceful jolt as a subtle touch.

Deathscythe's arms encircle Wing in a protective embrace. Thrusters propel both Gundams towards the Sunhawk.

******

Residual side effects of space delirium. Subliminal illusions flutter like mantic fireflies. Dreams splinter into phantasmal nightmares.

Peculiarly, a few fragments of clarity filters through Heero's muddled subconsciousness.

Eyes shut.

Senses, other than sight, offers clues.

Heero is not inside Wing. He feels the separation. Raw cold has been thawed by warmth. Constant engine drone indicates he's on a ship, perhaps the Sunhawk. Focusing breaths. Concentrate on lifting sluggish eyelids. Narrow cracks. Blurry light. Wider. White ceiling. Finally the entire location is revealed.

Not the infirmary. Crew quarters. In bed, dressed in boxer briefs and tee shirt. Fresh sheets. Soft pillow. Woven blanket. Across the room a figure gazes out a viewport. Long braid solves the mystery of identity.

Halfheartedly regarding the star-studded firmament, Duo's main focal point is Heero's shadowy reflection. Spectral image shifts. Duo pivots in place. Confirmation. Heero is awake. Quick strides close the gap.

Backwashed in pale light Duo emits an angelic aura quite contrary to his Shinigami persona. "Hey." he greets gratefully.

Heero blinks. Is his intuition trustworthy? Is Duo a skewed figment of imagination or tangible flesh and bones?

Heart overrules doubts.

Realization of rescue hits full force. "You found me."

Duo sits on the bed, holds Heero's hand. "I'll always find you." is promised forevermore.

Confusion. "Why did you kiss me?"

"War never guarantees returning." Duo states with certainty. "Couldn't go into combat without showing you how much I care."

Heero ponders the profound declaration. "Is this love?"

"Maybe. But I am damn sure we're destined to be together."

"If together is meant to be," Heero concurs, "Kiss me again."

OWARI

Dust in the Wind—Karen Hickman—August 2016

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