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"Three"Written By: Switchblade003
Disclaimer: Shin Kidousenki New Mobile War Chronicle
Gundam Wing and all affiliated characters are property of Bandai,
Setsu Agency. Likewise, X-Men and its characters are owned by Marvel
Comics. I’m not taking any credit for these guys, and I’m
certainly not making a profit off of this. It’s actually costing
me money… Pairing(s): I’ll figure ‘em out later. Warning(s): Overtly religious tones ("In
a Switchblade fic??" Lol…); may offend some readers, and
if it does don’t read it! Slight Wufei-bastardization, but it
gets made up in the next chapter. Rating: NC-17 for violence, adult themes, language,
etc. Archive: www.wuffie.net, hopefully my own site
if I can get it up and running— Notes: Uh, thought I’d post another chapter
of this one, while I was updatin’ "Fight Club". Also,
check out my site!! The URL is above, and I’m lookin’ for
more people to join my fanfiction/art circle! Three If there was one thing that irritated Chang Wufei to no end, it was Christian holidays. He hated Christmas, perhaps more than all other absurd, spontaneous days of celebration with which the American public insisted on plaguing him. The country was a melting pot of filth, in his humble opinion, a festering ground of ill-cultured, ignorant fools with no honor, discipline, or morality, and the only ‘traditions’ that they seemed to observe were senseless holidays of material goods. No wonder these people kill mutants, he thought. They’re too stupid to know any better. The Chinese youth glided through the streets swiftly, heading for Olde Towne General. Catherine had called and said that she’d found something of interest to the organization, and the blasted woman had hung up on him before relaying adequate directions to the hospital. Wufei snorted, muttering under his breath. He’d joined Aucifer in the hopes of finding others like himself among which he belonged, but all he’d come across were imbeciles like the humans which hunted his kind. Exasperated, the young man continued to trudge through seemingly unmoving masses of Christmas shoppers, for once uncaring of the fact that he was pushing people rather roughly out of his way. A split-second later found the raven-haired boy colliding harshly with another solid object, though his martial arts training allowed him the balance to avoid a rather nasty fall. His counterpart didn’t appear equally lucky, however, as Wufei looked up from his crouched position and his inspection of an injured palm to find a lanky boy about his own age sprawled across the sidewalk, violet eyes glaring daggers at him, and as he stood to his feet a flash of brilliant crimson fire shot through the youth’s wide eyes, and Wufei arched a brow. Fiery guy. He has potential. Without a backwards glance the Chinese young man continued in the direction he’d been walking, but something about those keen amaryllis eyes harped at the fringes of his conscious thoughts. Fifteen minutes later Wufei entered the automatic sliding glass doors to Olde Towne General’s emergency center, and as his luminous eyes darted around the lobby they alighted on the nurses’ station, where Catherine was chatting idly with a young paramedic, from the looks of his uniform. The mage shrugged out of his jacket, folding it over his arm, and approached the counter quietly. "I’m sure he’ll be fine, Trowa. Jumping from the top spire of Saint Paul’s probably wasn’t too good for him, but he’s stable now," the redhead was assuring her companion, and the young man nodded, his face stoic and withdrawn. Automatically Wufei took a liking to the guy, which was saying something; Wufei never took a liking to anyone. As he stood patiently at the counter, the medic stood, towering a good six inches over the oriental, and muttered a ‘good night’ to Catherine before heading not towards the exit, but to the elevators across the lobby. His wiry frame disappeared into one of the enormous metal boxes, and with the clanking of gears he was gone. "He’s a nice guy. He’s just awfully quiet." Wufei turned to the woman now perched atop a stool at the counter. He shrugged lightly, casting one glance over his shoulder to the now-silent elevators, and rubbed his eyes wearily. "All right, Bandit," he sighed, addressing his cohort by her formal title among the members of Aucifer. "Exactly why did you call me down to this gods-forsaken place?" Catherine smiled and gestured toward the elevators into which the reticent EMT had retreated. "Remember that boy that the Boss had us on the lookout for?" she asked quietly. Wufei arched an elegant black brow, nodding his head slightly. "Well…" Catherine reached over the counter and swiveled a computer monitor to face the Asian youth. "He’s here." Dark onyx eyes widened in surprise as he gazed at a familiar face, the image of a young man whose picture he had seen on hundreds of Aucifer APBs staring sadly out at him from the screen. Aucifer had been searching for him for as long as Wufei could recall. He was their own private savior, he’d been taught. He didn’t know why, but he’d been told that this boy held the key to overcoming the human obstacle which barred mutants from freedom and normal lives. But what in the gods’ names is he doing here? Catherine beat him to the punch, sighing and shaking her head, auburn curls bouncing, lavender eyes disappointed. "It’s not what you think," she said softly, noting with a pang of regret the hope and udder loyalty that had suddenly lit Wufei’s face, replacing his customary scowl. "He tried to kill himself." The Asian youth’s eyes narrowed. Now why in hell would he have done that…? "He’s in the ward upstairs. One of the medics is with him." A small smile stole across her lips. "He seems to have taken a liking to the kid. He’s his first victim to make it to the ER alive." Wufei nodded absently. That meant that they wouldn’t have to station guards around the boy. Excellent. He needed to contact Annie, though. She’d certainly want to know of their discovery. They finally had him… Calm down, Chang. Wufei sighed, reaching into his pocket for his cellular phone. He dialed blindly, eyes riveted to the monitor before him. Slender, bronzed fingers reached out to trail idly over the image of the boy that sat in the corner of the screen, surrounded by data and text. Quatre Raberba Winner, I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you. He brought his phone to his ear, reaching over the counter to punch in the termination sequence on the keyboard, clearing the screen. "Annie, we’ve got him." +++ TBC.
Chapter 5 |
