Categories > Anime/Manga > Gundam Wing > Under Fire

Under Fire

by Loise 0 reviews

Written for the Whumped!Quatre challenge. Quatre angsts over the future as he sees the future become something he never intended fighting for. It's time to grow up.

Category: Gundam Wing - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst, Drama - Characters: Dorothy, Quatre - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2005-10-04 - Updated: 2005-10-05 - 2471 words - Complete



Watching from the backstage, Quatre smiled as Relena was recieved with a bit more than polite applause. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, listening carefully as the audience to her words.

"Welcome, to the fifth annual Peace Conference of World and Colonial Affairs - "

Jerking forward as a tongue licked along his ear lobe, he gasped both in surprise and pleasure. Whirling around he glared at the smirking woman.

"Dorothy! What do you think you are doing?"

"This year has been a hard one, with many countries and colonies under threat by militant separtists, but with continued resistance - "

She smiled coyly, looking up at him through lowered eyelashes. "Oh Quatre!" She drawled his name out deliciously long, her lips toying with his mind.

Glancing about to see if any people were watching this exchange, Quatre looked back at her, much more relieved but still anxious about her when he found there were none. "Not now Dorothy!"

Her hand gripped his upper arm, fingernails, long and red digging into his flesh. Biting back a groan, Quatre stood to his full height. Exactly three millimetres taller than she was. When she wasn't wearing heels. Today she was.

Grinning, and using her other hand, Dorothy ruffled his head with it. Then, laying a child like kiss on his tousled hair, she leaned in, close to his face.

"But, Quatre," her wide and limpid, "I'm under strict governemnt orders! And I can't not, no I refuse not to! To back down and betray my government! Surely Quatre you won't make me do that!"

"But no longer! The separtists have bowed out. With a mix of both polictial force -"

Backing away, Quatre glanced at Relena, shaking his head wearily, "Farce more like it. It's all lies, Relena knows this. She was part of the Council that ordered the leader of the separtists assassinated."

Wrapping her arms around his waist, Dorothy nestled her face in Quatre's neck. Breathing in, she sighed, "Quatre? That's what is worrying you? Silly boy."

Staring at her with a peculiar blankness thats sent chills down Dorothy's spine, Quatre spoke, his voice sounding far off. "I can't help but hate this. It's another charade. Another one. That's what makes me so bitter. I don't know what Relena is feeling but that's what I am. She knows this. That's why I had to vote against her."

Stepping back, Dorothy leaned against the wall, her ankles crossed as she smiled rather sardonially. "Yes. I thought as much. Miss Relena does not wish for peace to be sacrificed, that's where you differ."

"No," Quatre murmured bitterly, "I don't wish democracy to be torn apart. I fought for peace, fought for freedom, Dorothy. Now it seems we are back to murdering in the back alleys."

"Peace can be achieved! We are living proof of an age of peace. At this moment we are creating the foundations of a lasting era of peace, and prosperity is -"

"You really can be so naive, to think the world is like that. Stop acting your age, you're a politician, you have to act better than all of this."

"So assassination is better than this?" Quatre waved a hand at the clapping, applauding crowd. "Look at them! All they care about, is this valued prosperity. My father, I thought... He was never like that, I know, Dorothy, I know. But all they seem to care about is themselves. Look at them..." Quatre trailed off softly.

"That's the world."

"And I am part of it. My money helps the world spin. I never thought, that I would be standing here. If me, the fighter could see me, I'm sure he would be disgusted." Quatre sounded like he dismayed at himself, a twist of revultion blanketed his face in distrust.

"Quatre, this isn't like you," Dorothy fiddled with his shirt, straighting it out, then patting it reassuringly. Quatre didn't seem to notice. Dorothy, at his side, feels useless.

"No, it isn't," Quatre murmured quietly, his voice soft, broken as Relena smiled winningly at the crowd as she concluded her speech.

"Thank you for attending the conference. With this enduring support, the path for peace is being paved."

With one more smile, Relena strode off the stage. Her smile didn't fade or falter, even when he caught sight of the gloomy Quatre Winner, with narrowed eyed Dorothy leaning nochalantly on the wall.

"It's nice to see you two again, Dorothy, Quatre." Relena smiles, it turns awkward as Quatre glares at her. "I see, well, please excuse me. I hope you have - "

"Stop it, Relena, you know as well as I do what you did was wrong. We shouldn't have given up so easily. Heero would have helped, so would have Duo. Hell, even Trowa would! You could have used us, we wouldn't have minded, really."

She looks at him coolly, before shaking her head sadly, her eyes warm and worried, "No, Quatre, it's not so simple. You may be wanted, but I can't let you or the others. I spoke to them, Wufei did for me at least, we knew that you would hate it."

"You've been going behind my back, haven't you? This is utterly insane, what's happened." Quatre stepped forward, an ugly twist to his face, Relena backed away, eyes wide. Lips curling, Quatre edged her to the wall, until her head hit with a snap of her neck. "Relena, it wasn't supposed to be like this. We weren't supposed to become this."

Relena shakes her, tears brimming, "Oh, Quatre, I know." She sighs and shakes her head, "No, but life isn't perfect, an ideal. Something you need to learn to deal with. Quatre, I am sorry," she stared into his eyes as the pace of his breathing increased. "For you especially, we were the idealists, but I've had to grow up," her voice breaks, "I've had to.

Quatre stared at her, aghast. Nodding, he smiled tightly and held out his hand out to Dorothy. "We have to go Relena, I'm sorry, but I suddenly not feeling up to speaking. Please give my apologies to the crowd," he smiled brightly, then stiffly turned, Dorothy's hand held in a tight grip. Pressing her lips together, Dorothy yanked her hand away and started walking steadily at an even pace, her head held high.

Giving her one distainful look, Quatre stormed on ahead, his head bowed. Relena stared helplessly at them before whirling around, a line of anger marring her brow for merely a moment before she returned to the stage, a smile lighting her lips gracefully.


Dorothy stared at his profile and calmly commented, "You have a red lipstick print on your temple Quatre. Lipstick, hmph!"

His jay clenched as he angrily swiped at his face. He ignored her otherwie, intent on driving home and getting away from the world.

Trying again, even though her smile was tinged with annoyance, "Quatre," she murmured carefully, keeping control of her voice, "This isn't going to last, none of this will. Who knows what will happen next week? We have now, but."

"I really don't find that reassuring, Dorothy, I find it actually disocncerning," Quatre answered, his hands convulsely whitening as he gripped the steering wheel. He had insisted on driving.

"Really? It's the truth, Quatre, is that why you fin it so hard to accept? Or is it just me?" Quatre didn't speak. "I see, I thought you had gotten over this."

"It's hard when you see the scar every time you shower. Every time I see your face, I sometimes, I just can't help but think..."

"That I wouldn't," Dorothy said softly, "Wouldn't every regret doing it again?" And she laughs as Quatre just frowns.

A policeman waves a flashlight up ahead, holding up a sign. Sighing Quatre pressed a button to make his window roll down as he slowed his car to a stop. A couple other people in uniform were setting up a road block.

"Dirversion, sir, there's been a big explosion up ahead and civilians have been banned from the area of impact until recommended by the government."

It's then that both realize that while they were talking they had completely zoned out the smoke, the sirens ringing in area, the dwindling traffic.

Most of all they now noticed the lines digging deep in the man's forehead, the sweat lining his face and his scared eyes trying hide what they were feeling.

They both could feel the sting of chemicals in the air, making it harder to breath, already Quatre could feel his eyes watering.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He said quietly, almost to himself.

The officer gives him a probing look before nodding, a look of desperation around him, "Yes, very, no one knows what is happening..." His voice trails off as he realizes the people he is talking to. Then he says shortly, abruptly, "Not that the government can't sort it out sir, I sure if you just make alternative plans then - "

"No, I'll be entering the disaster zone, officer, I'm Quatre Winner and this is Dorothy Catalonia, we're Preventers, or backs ups anyway. We'll have to help, it's our duty."

With a glance at the other officers, the policeman considered the two as the other police edged closer, "I see, have you any identification?"

With a sour glance at Dorothy, Quatre flipped him his while Dorothy fumbled slightly for her id, with a stern frown at Quatre she she showed hers.

The police officers went into a huddle and small fragments of conversation reached Quatre and Dorothy. "...who are they?" "...the id cards do look real." "Winner." "Wasn't she the one..."

The first man approached, "You may go ahead, good luck." He passed the id cards to Quatre through the window, with a nod, Quatre started the engine up again and sped forward through the narrow gap that was left to the site of the bomb.

"A bomb..." Dorothy whispered, "Who do think may be responsible? There hasn't been much fighting going on in Andes, Senator Marco has been very throurgh with the rooting out of former OZ rebels. I suppose it could be the Loire Valley extremists, but, I don't think they could rummage up enough money to do this."

Quatre grimaced, "It's them, the so called militant separtists, I told Relena that when you cut off the tail, there was enough for it to still grow back. Now, we don't know who their leader is, as our only insider was the one who killed their leader, getting himself killed too. They'll be a loose cannon." He laughs, bitterly.

He stops the car suddenly and gets out, with Dorothy warily following. Fire still spurts out of the building, almost unrecognizable, a large firefighter bellows orders as a gust of wind blows the fire out of window. The heat crinkles the street sign, the ink and metal oozing together into a sick mix of colours.

Every where you hear the ring of sirens, the shouts and the disorder. Quatre starts walking away from the main scene, a frown edging it's way across his face, he briefly stops at his car and withdraws his gun, stuffing spare bullets into his pocket.

She looks over the scene as a tent was assembled, bodies already lined up to go in the temperary morgue. Dorothy sighs, staring as Quatre leaves. Wiping a sweaty hand across her forehead, Dorothy wonders again why she does this. She was always the attacker, the only aftermath she saw was the distant explosion in space... That was until Quatre fought her, and she had lost more than she had realized.

Sound dims as she enters the alley after him, "Quatre?" He's looking down at his gun, the red and blue flashing lights washing out his already pale face. His eyes are full of tears as he slumps against the wall, knees buckling as he curls into himself.

Dorothy's lips thin as a scared expression crosses her face. "There isn't any need to act like this Quatre, you're needed. We're needed, aren't we?" Her voice catches at the end.

"Oh, I guess so Dorothy," he smiles a little boy smile as he clutches at the gun, "I - "

"I need you, Quatre," Dorothy kneels beside him, embracing him tightly, "I need you more than you can ever imagine. They all need you too, but never as much as me."

"I, I just don't get..." His voice trails off as she kisses him, both of their eyes remain open, they don't blink for fear of the other out of sight.

"Quatre, you don't have to undertand everything, no one does, you just have to struggle along and make your own happiness. Like I did with you."

He pulls her to him so that they rest side to side, he hold her hand, sometimes he clenches it tightly, but most of the time he just grasps it firmly. Dorothy stays silent by his side as he frowns in thought.

"I guess I should apologise to Relena?" He asks, a small smile hovering over his lips, "I was so rude to her," he lowers his head, "I just couldn't get over her changes when I was fighting with mine."

She sighs, "We all do, most of us get out of it in our teenager years, I know I did." She smiles as he starts and glares at her, "Well, mostly, Quatre," Dorothy grins.

The frown fades away as he smiles warily, nervously at her. He places a hand over hers and she rests her head on his shoulder.

"We'd better get up," Quatre says, "We have a job to do." He doesn't sound as distraught, however, as when he entered the side alley. They still hear the sirens, the screams and the chaos. They still as another blast is heard, close by and they drop to the ground as a wave of energy and solid objects fly over their heads, lethal and dangerous.

Next to her, eyes blinking away the blood trickling down his forehead, Quatre grips her hand, "We're together at least, that's what matters most of all, right Dorothy?" His grin seems unsure but his eyes are determined.

Nodding, she gasps as he hauls her up, tugging her close as a breeze brings them a new smell of panic, "Keep close," he orders, "I keep you safe."

Standing tall, taller than him, Dorothy smirks and flips her regretfully dirty, but lovely hair, "We'll keep each other safe, Quatre."

Still holding her hand, Quatre nods, a smile hovering under the shroud of sadness as he suverys the scene. Their clasped hands are shaking.

"We'll make it through, Quatre, we have to, for each other, if nothing else." She bends down, and picks up his gun, handing it to him.

Quatre closes his eyes and steps forward, realizing sometimes fighting isn't always with your fists.
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