Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Snow ❯ One-Shot

SNOW

Disclaimer: After you've read this fic, you'll probably be glad to know I don't own GW ^_^

AN: Wow, it's been ages since I updated 'The Pink Shirt Files'! Ah well, school holidays are coming up in a couple of weeks. Until then, let this fic tie ya over ^.^ (Man, I SO totally overuse those emoticons ^_^ Gah, another one! Okay, now I'm just plain ruining the mood…)

_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_

It was a bleak winter's night, and the snow was just beginning to fall. Fragile white flakes danced and twirled down from the sky, laden thick with clouds, landing softly on the cold, dark Earth. They fell on a lonely stretch of road, which was hardly ever used, covering fresh skid marks with a blanket of pure white. A short distance from these marks lay a mangled motorbike, which due to the icy roads and the high speed at which it had been travelling, had spun out of control and crashed into one of the many pine trees that lined the road. If one were too look close enough, they would have seen the driver pinned under it.

The figure had neither the energy nor the will to shift the totalled bike, despite the added pressure it was putting on his broken bones. The ground below him was wet with his own blood, which trickled from gaping wounds like crimson rivers. His long chestnut braid was draped over his shoulder, absorbing some of his lifeblood, and violet eyes full of sadness were straining to stay open.

The young boy shivered in the cold, hurting with every breath he took. From the experience that he had during his time on the battlefield, he was sure that at least one of his ribs had punctured his lung. Every breath was a struggle, and he was slowly losing the will to fight. Eyes shone with tears as he murmured in a tired, melancholy voice:

"I don't want to die…"

It was true that the warrior who had dubbed himself the God of Death on the battlefield was, in fact, afraid of death. But what else could be expected from someone who Shinigami had taken away all whom they had held dear? A wave of nausea overtook him. Whether it was from fear or from the horrible wounds, he did not know.

He lay on his side, briefly regretting being unable to turn onto his back to be able to see the stars, before realising that if he were in that position, all he would be able to see would be the cold, frigid snow as it fell into his eyes.

"Please don't let me die…"

Images of those with whom he had fought with flashed in his mind. He had always envisioned himself dying on the battlefield in a blaze of glory. At least then he wouldn't be alone.

Alone.

How he hated the thought of dying without the comfort of knowing his friends were nearby. The four with whom he had shared so much with, the ones who had been with him through all the sadness and glory of war.

"Is anyone there? Heero? Quatre? Tro or Wu? Please…"

It was but a vain attempt to reach out to his comrades in his final moments. They were back in the safety and warmth of the safehouse, where he had been heading before he crashed.

"Somebody… anybody… I don't want to be alone…"

The wind whistled through the pines as more snow began to fall. Whilst the pine tress caught a lot of it, it still landed on the dying boy. But by this stage he had lost most feeling in his body. Everything began to fade away. Tears slid down his cheeks as he closed his eyes for the final time, breathing his last words.

"I never… got… to say goodbye…"

And so Duo Maxwell died that bleak winter's night, cold, afraid and alone, with remanence of tears still stuck to his face. His frozen body was spotted on the side of the road the following morning by four young men who had decided to go out and look for their missing friend several hours too late. Their tears mingled with the crimson stained snow.

OWARI

Wow, that was SAD!! Poor Duo, this is, like, the fourth time I've killed him off!

Duo: Yeah, what's with that?! You authors and your freaky minds *mutters*

Friezaess: Please review! ^_^