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"Not Your Time"Written By: Karen The Huntress Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its
characters Rating: R Warnings: angst, language Pairings: 1x2, 2x1 Summary: Duo hopes that Heero will beat the odds
yet again. " Not Your Time" ~~~<0>~~~ Past forgotten. Future unknown. Some mistakes we can't atone. Fate's interventions we might postpone. But in the end we die alone. ~~~<0>~~~
Why are those cryptic words, scrawled eons ago on the dank wall of an OZ detention cell, resurfacing in my memory?
Bad karma?
Prophesy?
Nonsense?
Maybe being brain numb from fatigue and worry?
Cold hand lays limp in mine. In ironic contradiction sweat beads on his feverish forehead.
Tubes and wires. Bandages and bruises. New scars to keep the old ones from being lonely.
I gulp syrupy dregs of lukewarm coffee, crush the Styrofoam cup instead of smashing the damn heart monitor. No need for that incessant monotone beep-beep-beep. His heart ain't gonna stop beating. Not while I'm on watch.
Wonder if Heero even knows I'm here. Can you hear my voice? Feel my touch? Do you realize I haven't left your side since the Extraction Squad freed you from Wing's mangled cockpit?
Doctor Po said odds were against surviving the night. Sun rose an hour ago. You're still hanging on. Intensive Care Trauma Team wants me to be prepared 'cause, if you do wake up, you might never walk again.
Sometimes I get pissed off with your mission first mindset. Think you're invincible like fuckin' Superman? Got nothing to prove to me—to anyone.
All right, enough of this bullshit.
Don't want you to be in pain, know from experience how bad it hurts, but you gotta wake up.
Open your eyes.
Give me hell for disregarding protocol.
Curse the saints. Praise the devil.
Tell me you love me.
There's nobody else to hear.
Moan.
Clammy fingers twitch in my hand.
Adrenaline rush spurs urgency. "Heero, come on, follow my voice back from the void." I plead. "It's always mission accomplished. Don't fail now."
"Duo." is whispered hoarsely.
Knew you'd never leave me. "I'm here."
Surprisingly focused blue eyes gaze at my tear-tracked face. I swallow the fearful lump clogging my throat then ask the dreaded question. "Can you move?"
Confusion.
Desperation. Revert to warrior mode. Bark out an authoritative order. "01! MOVE YOUR LEGS!"
Resolute effort shifts hips, legs and feet shrouded beneath the white sheet. Heero Yuy, with absolute certainty, refutes doctors and skeptics and ominous words scrawled in blood on a dank wall.
Lean closer, squeeze Heero's hand. Mentally apologizing for stale coffee breath I kiss his dry lips. "Welcome back love."
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