Bone Gate, Prologue
Authors: Nix Winter and LunarGeography (Amy the Evitable)
Pairings: 1x2, 3x4
Mature adults only
Warnings: Angst, spooky occult stuff, and boys who are not what they seemed to be. Post EW
Archive: all others please ask.
Disclaimer: No infringement of the copyright of Gundam Wing is intended. This story is purely for entertainment purposes.
Summary: After Endless Waltz, the pilots are separated by the fears of the new government. But all is not well with the G-boys. Old enemies may be pulling strings from somewhere unimaginably far behind the scenes, and old friends may not be what they seem.
xxx: Text on screen
The dream coalesced again, forming itself from the harmless and habitual snippets and scenes her subconscious mind was weaving. The asphalt beneath her feet hardened further, grew gloss and ripples that sported razor-sharp edges, until it became a plain of onyx. The red of the stoplight flared and grew until it covered the entire sky, and took on a murky cast.
The sounds of the dream – voices, music, street noises – blurred warped into a ceaseless keen of wind.
Her dream-self cried out in protest. She didn't want to be here again. She didn't want to see this again.
Dream-Duo appeared upon the plain, nude, and within moments was wrapped in gray wisps. At first she thought the wisps were fog, but then they grew faces of hollowness and shadows, and began to whimper. Noises like the cries of damned children, lost forever, joined the wail of the wind. One by one, each wispy mouth fastened itself onto Duo's flesh, until he was clothed in undulating stormcloud-leeches. Duo's face was deathly pale, and tears poured from his eyes, though his face was set in a cold, grim expression.
A single red rose upon a long, winding stem appeared in the gloom, hovering in the air. The vine grew, winding towards Duo and wrapping around his neck. Once the pale throat was encircled, the vine twisted, and barbed black thorns pierced deep into Duo's throat, and the rose seemed to suck the blood into itself, down the vine.
From beneath the rose, the onyx plain shuddered, and the bones began to rise up.
They were old bones, stripped clean long ago, worn to shades of ivory and yellow by ages unimaginable to her. The long bones of the body – femur and humerus, ulna and radius, tibia and fibula – were the scaffolding, long columns topped with pelvic bones, through which ribs and vertebrae were woven to hold the structure together. Skulls stared out from niches, and skeletal hands extended from the structure, reaching desperately for salvation that would never come. It was far, far too late.
The Bone Gate. The nearly-impenetrable barrier between the living and the dead.
The vine contracted, pulling Duo to one of the massive closed doors. He hung limp and unresisting,seemingly drained, as skeletal hands grasped his arms, his legs, his throat. There was a look of suffering and unbearable, inescapable horror on his face, but she was helpless in this dream.
And in reality... In waking reality it was worse.
She was distracted from her thoughts when Quatre appeared. He, too, was naked, but none of the foggy wraiths attached themselves to him. He was pale, clutching at his chest, and he fell heavily against the door. He, too, was grasped by the bones, held helpless.
The Bone Gate began to glow, a deep purple shade that emanated from between the doors, and both boys started to scream. She could see the soft, soft skin on both of them begin to melt into the bones.
When she, too, screamed, she woke soaked in sweat and shaking, and did not sleep again that night.