No One is Allowed to Die
Pairings: None
Warnings: Rashid POV, Maganac-ness, in-the-war-ness
Note: Not really cannon, but probably possible at one point or another. Sorry if I spelt Maganac wrong, I know, it's a very difficult little word, isn't it? Anyway, this isn't one of my better pieces. I think I'll try again, Rashid and all of it. Never see a Rashid POV, after all. This was fun.
--For the GW500 Challenge#33: "a distraction."
He had that look in his eyes before he left, and I knew that he was planning to sidestep us again, to avoid us the troubles of getting injured. He left with a Desert Eagle in his holster, a spring-loaded sheath on his left arm and a dangerous glitter, a slight frown that provoked the respect and memories that I have come to endure in my life of so many years.
So I knew what he was going to do when he did it, and I knew that he meant it for the best of intentions, something that I have admired in him countless times in the past. But it is still a pain in my efforts. It's even a little amusing perhaps, to consider that my men haven't even blinked an eye or slid the honor, simply packed the weapons and supplies and took off for the carriers. They know their orders and their Master and a Maganac never betrays either.
I smile slightly with pride, looking over the thinning crowd as they pack up and ready for take off. Master Quatre left for space without a word to us, and now he is missing. We are going to find him and defend him. He's vulnerable even now, especially at his strongest. That is simple who Quatre Winner is.
My voice carries over the desert winds before I realize the words that I've spoken. "No one is allowed to die until he found, understood?"
They each stop to take a breath of my frame, and they each, in their own little way, nod. "Aye, aye Rashid!"
I turn to find Auda smirking at me, but in that little way that tells me he is simply smiling to the fight against that frown of defeat. He is tired. The war has taken toll on all of us, I can see it quite clearly now. I nod to him and he turns away toward the crates to overlook the loading. I would be down there to aid him, but I can't seem to move from my standing on the dune, watching these men work so loyally and efficiently for a boy less than half their age who had once damned himself for being a test tube baby.
And I respect him all the more. He is a son to me and I will not fail my promise to him. I can't stray. I will not allow myself to become distracted.
We cannot fail.
A Maganac would die before breaking his honor. I don't plan on dying.