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"Semisweet "Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: G Warnings: none Summary: A look into the past. Pairings: 1+2
" Semisweet " There was a pain in his gut. It wasn't enough to awaken him from his restless sleep. Just enough to make him curl in upon himself, to favor the sore spot. The dreamscape perpetuated, relentless. The setting was colonial. No other place could torment its people so thoroughly as those precarious containers orbiting planet Earth. Sizzling incendiary days grappling with relentless frigid nights. Oxygen and water doled in precious microliter doses. He knew full well, if the conditions didn't murder him, the inhabitants would take up the slack. His perception hovered over the nightmare scene, familiar yet remote. Animal denizens in upright human guise, lingering to make a kill. Those that had a modicum, armed to the very eyeteeth against the desperate shadows. It was the light phase of the colony, the height of artificial day. The stink of sweat mingled with the scald of low hanging ozone. Those inhabitants who had to be about their business plodded through the palpable heat. A worker clad in soggy wifebeater and khaki shorts, rag knotted about his forehead, pack slung loosely over his hips, slogged along the filthy byway. His boots, the only heavy articles to his attire, clattered upon the polymer walk. He pulled a chunk of confection from his sack, cursing vehemently at how soon it had melted. Snarling jaws drew the sticky bit into his mouth. He crumpled the plain brown overwrap and tossed it into a waste receptacle. Then strode onward, growling his continuing complaint. The cautious pause was short-lived. From a trash laden alley, the insignificant shadow emerged, took shape. No sweet, poetic waif, this. Instead, a sexless, nameless, beggarly form. Pale skin, thoroughly begrimed, bearing oozing sores at elbows, knees, fingers and toes. Indeterminate hair formed a filthy pelt, drooping upon face and shoulders. Scraps of discarded fabric covered its loins and little else. In size and shape, it might be taken for a human child. The glittering eyes bespoke an alarming animal intellect, severe in its calculating acumen. The lips separated to reveal dangerous teeth. The boy slunk forward. Senses still alert for surrounding predators, while a small hand groped into the trash can, grabbed for the prize and snapped it up into a clenched fist. He scrambled away to hide behind some discarded crates. There he crouched, his joy at the treat, immeasurably cast upon his grinning lips. A tiny pink tongue probed the candy wrapper, licking the gooey remnant of castaway chocolate from every surface. When no further dregs were visible, the child wadded the entire paper into his maw, sucked, until the very aroma of the thing was engulfed, destroyed, subsumed. Then the boy spat out the mere inedible residual, and slunk back into the shadows. Awaken the dreamer. Again to current reality. Heero Yuy had a mission that had been dissected into two. The first half involved his gundam weaponry, and military objectives specified clearly in his orders. The second half of his mission involved exorcism of a nightmare that haunted his rest. It was his own fault. Suspicious curiosity had driven him to investigate his partner's background and training. In his thorough delving, Yuy had uncovered more facts than he needed. Certainly, more than he had ever wanted to know. His lurid imagination had been supplying sordid details for days now. Days and nights as well. He returned to the motel room with the supplies acquired on his stealthy outing. War intelligence from local informants. Ammunition and mech replacement parts, stowed securely in his back pack. But he sorted through these and set them aside. At the shadowed depths was the item he sought. Medication for his ailment. Balm for the pain in his guts. He turned to the other bed. The boy sitting there, carefully spitting upon a short blade. Then grinding away at its lethal edge with a whetstone. "Maxwell." "Yuy." The boy sat in shadows. A stray beam of terran sunlight sneaked in through a slat in the window blinds. It touched the cloud of his hair, fashioning from the union, a halo. "Here. I need to give you this." It was a plain block from the grocery store shelf. Semisweet baker's chocolate, substantial in weight. Inexpensive, utilitarian. Its unadorned brown wrapper came as close as possible to a semblance of Yuy's nightmare vision. "Oh, hey. Chocolate. For me?" "Yes." "Oh. Well thanks, buddy." "Would you," he paused, trying not to sound his desperation. "Would you eat some of it? Now." "Uh, sure. Nobody has to twist my arm much, to get me to eat chocolate. Mmm. Smells good too." Yuy avidly watched, as the Kid's lips opened, showing a hint of the small pink tongue. Heero smelled the semisweet aroma. Heard the crunch, as the chocolate was ground upon dangerous teeth. The boy grinned up at his partner. "S'good. Want some?" He cocked his head, a slightly puzzled scrunch wriggled his snub nose. "No. It's for you. All of it." Emphatic insistence. Required for the cure. "Oh, uh. Thanks. Gonna save some for later. Okay?" "Yes." Yuy turned away in discomfort. True, the pain in his gut was gone. But instead of dispersing, the torment merely had moved. The belly ache was gone. Translocated upward into his chest. He wondered now, how could he lose the sharp sensation that he felt? How could he cure this new malady? The pain that stabbed into his heart. ~ * ~
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