Author: Deathangelgw
Disclaimer: Neither the song nor the g-bois are mine.
Please remember it is Christmas time and NO SUE!
Warnings: AU, PWP, OCs, sap, angst (slight), songfic.
Pairings: well none specifically….
Rating: G for goooooooooooooooooood…hehe
Note: I know some of you are not into the religious aspect
of this time of year, but I was inspired to write this and maybe it will remind
those of us the real reason Christmas is around. Also, I…. just wanted to write
it! *shrugs helplessly* OK, that spiel is done….
Feedback: ‘twould be appreciated….
/lyrics/
Heero struggled through the drifts of snow as he headed for
the safehouse that he would be sharing with his fellow pilots this cold winter
night. A gust of wind blew up and he shivered slightly at the bitter chill.
Looking up through his snow-filled hair, he saw a light. ‘The safehouse?’ he
thought in confusion. He thought he had about two more miles till the house,
but with the storm up, even the Perfect Soldier was forced to admit needing some
help. Stumbling to the door of a broken down shed, he pushed the door open and
almost fell in, then shut the door behind him. Shivering as he tried to warm
up, Heero walked around, looking at the small shed, wondering where the light
was coming from. Then, very softly, he heard a soft voice singing and a small
child’s hungry cry.
/What child is this who laid to rest,
On Mary’s lap is sleeping.
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
And shepherds watch are keeping./
Heero looked into the only room and saw a young woman
laying on a small bed of straw, holding a baby that she had just given birth
to. She tried to feed the crying baby, but was obviously unable too. Heero
looked down and saw a pool of blood that was slowly increasing in size.
‘Hemorrhage,’ his computer mind pointed out to him at once. Frowning and
knowing he shouldn’t get involved, Heero turned to leave, knowing he needed to
complete his mission.
But as he turned, a soft voice called to him. “Please….help
my baby.”
/This, This is Christ the king
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, Haste to bring him laud
The babe…the Son of Mary./
Heero turned back, his cobalt eyes wary, but his heart
wishing to help, as he walked to the woman. Softly, he asked, “What can I do?”
She smiled at him, her pale blue eyes sparkling with hope
and love. “Take care of him. I will not survive, I know. But my child….please,
take care of him?” she asked softly, her voice growing softer as she struggled
to hand the whimpering child to the reluctant Wing pilot.
Heero looked down at the young babe, then looked at her.
He smiled softly, then nodded as he took the child. He knew not this feeling
within him, urging him to take care of the young one, but he felt the warmth of
the child and the mother as he held the baby. The mother smiled in joy, then
moved a soft hand up to Heero’s face, caressing him gently as she whispered with
her final breath, “Thank you…my son.” Eyes closing in eternal sleep, she
relaxed into the straw bed. Heero bent his head in and pressed a kiss to the
young mother’s head, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he looked at the
valiant mother, then at the young child.
/Why lies he in such mean estate?
Where Ox and ass are feeding.
Good Christian fear, for sinners here.
The silent Word is pleading./
Setting his jaw in determination, Heero got up. Grabbing
the wool wrap that was laying nearby, he wrapped it around himself and the young
baby. Bracing himself, he opened the door and stumbled into the howling night.
After what seemed like forever, he came to the safehouse,
grunting in satisfaction when he saw the lights were on, indicating someone was
there. Opening the door and once again stumbling in, he shook himself off and
checked on the babe. The little child cooed, then scrunched up its face, waving
a fist around. Heero smiled slightly and murmured softly as he caught the fist
within his own hand, “Hungry, little one? I think we might have something for
you.”
“Well, look what the storm brought in! Hey everyone!
Heero’s here!” Duo shouted as he bounded into the room, then stopped with a
meep as Heero let the wrap drop, revealing the little bundle. Quatre came
running in, then gasped as well as soon as he saw the bundle.
“Heero? What the….who…huh?” Duo sputtered out as Quatre
came up cautiously to the Wing pilot. Heero cast a warning glance at Quatre,
but let the blond near. Quatre cooed at the baby and wiggled his fingers for
the little baby to play with.
Heero looked at Quatre, ignoring Duo, and asked, “Do we
have some milk? This little one is very hungry.” Quatre nodded and led the way
to the kitchen. Duo followed, curiosity a permanent fixture on his face as
Heero placed the child on the table. Wufei and Trowa joined the three and
leaned against the doorjamb.
“Will wonders never cease? Heero…a dad,” Wufei commented
snidely, but then stopped as Heero glared at him.
“This child’s mother asked me to take care of her son with
her dying breath. Would YOU deny this right?” Heero asked softly as he placed a
protective hand on the child. Wufei bowed his head and said nothing more.
/This, This is Christ the King.
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing.
Haste, Haste to bring him laud,
The babe…the Son of Mary./
The young pilots took care of the little one that wintry
night, each finding a bit of their own childhood in the child’s laugh. In the
morning, Quatre and Heero left with the baby, taking him to a local orphanage.
Heero sent money and always a card and a gift to the young boy as he grew,
during and after the war. A couple of years later, Heero adopted the young
child and raised him as his own son, blessing the wintry night that gave him
this one little light.
Owari
