Disclaimer: I don't own GW and its characters.
A/N: Yaay! Thanks for those who reviewed Frankenberry! Hmm. So these little drabbles about Quatre continue. Before you go on, just before you read the first line, I want you to know that this is not yaoi/shounen-ai. Promise. It might look like that at first, but it's really not.
For Peace's Sake
by Schizoid Sprite
"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."-Dr. Seuss
Quatre loved him.
And he was tired of hearing the it's-just-normal-since-he-loves-everybody-anyway argument. Because this was entirely different…
"This was your idea."
The blonde pulled his head up from the cage of his arms, unfolded his legs, but didn't look up. He stared at his reflection at the glass in front of him, then shifted the focus of his vision into the vast velvet space and the jewels strewn across it. He didn't trust himself to speak just yet, as a scream was threatening to claim the bands of his windpipes that second. He wanted to cry. He wanted to hurt himself. He wanted to distract himself from the misery he was in.
Duo hummed at the silence of the other pilot. He stared down at the straw of his coke-in-can and noted how the hole stared back at him like an accusing eye. He whirled around and found his face millimeters away from the glass that separated him from the cold void that has become a battlefield, a graveyard, and their home. He breathed out, fogging the glass.
"This was your idea." he reiterated, the words firmer than before. He enclosed his lips around the straw and sipped.
"Yes," Quatre whispered.
The American tilted his head to one side. He frowned at the sourness of his not-so-cold drink. "Your dithering reeks off of you like hell. You sure you want to go on with it?"
"O-of course!" Quatre half-shouted. He lowered his voice. "I-I just can't believe I have to part with him now. He's my best friend. I loved him."
The last three words hung around the zero gravity, twisting and slithering there to underscore itself.
Duo smirked. "We're stuck on the same boat, you know. I'll miss him too, but we just have to end our connections to them one way or another, be it today or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. I think it wouldn't prolong the agony if we continue with it now. It's up to you. We couldn't live together forever. Guess it's kinda hard, after all what we've suffered in the war….but we just have to do it. For peace's sake."
"For peace's sake," Quatre repeated off-handedly. He suppressed a sigh. "Okay then. Same plan. I won't let my personal motives get in the way of our main goal. We'll finally achieve peace. I'm happy to end this all now."
He knotted his brows together when he heard a sarcastic gulp of laugh from the American. He looked up to see Duo throwing him a malicious smirk before sipping his coke.
"You have to practice how not to sound so bitter if you're going to lie," Duo joked.
Quatre pursed his lips in a small frown. "Duo, I'm really willing to let him go. Peace is at our fingertips now. He'll understand...for sure."
"I hate it when people make me want to repeat myself." Duo permitted himself a snort and captured the straw again to take another mouthful of the drink. He was caught off guard when Quatre threw him a death-glare that could easily rival Heero's, sending him laughing—squirting the coke across the room from his mouth and nose.
Quatre bounced off the floor and floated as far as possible away from the little soft drink droplets suspended in the air, a disgusted expression plastered across his face. He recoiled and smothered a groan when Duo proceeded to lick all the dollops.
"Let's go?" the American said happily after he slurped the last coke drop, licking his bottom lip.
"Let's," Quatre managed to say as he tried to drive away the image of the most recent memory.
Well, at least the little event somehow peeled him off from his sadness. But when they flitted inside the abandoned resource satellite, the feeling came back, only now it was a bit heavier. He tried to smile despite the pain. They hovered in microgravity above four giant coffin-like boxes. It almost felt like a real funeral.
"As long as there's peace," Duo's muffled voice came from under his helmet, "we don't need the Gundams."
Quatre visually wilted. Thanks to the suit, Duo wouldn't be able to pick on him about it again. "It's sad we have to part," he muttered both to Duo and to his best friend, now lying under one of the large glass caskets.
"No, that's it," He heard Duo said. He noted the hint of sadness in the words. "Let's blast them and this scrap satellite to the sun!"
Quatre nodded firmly. "Right."
Before he followed Duo bouncing up to the exit, he turned to his dear friend and offered him a warm smile.
"Goodbye, my Sandrock."
He took one long stare at the machine—his best friend that he'd loved and will continue to love even if they'd be apart, supposedly forever. He remembered the feel of the hard console, the warmth of the vid screen that bathed him whenever they go out to the battlefield together, the shoulder harness that hugged him for both protection and comfort, the feel of his sweat-slicked fingers over the control stick, and the green and blue lights flashing across his sight when they meshed as one and fought for peace's sake.
"For peace's sake," Quatre said under his breath. He put his hand over his heart. "I'm going to miss you, my Sandrock."