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"I Will Find You"Written By: ELLE Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Gundam
Wing (unfortunately) and they were used without permission, but all
the words are my own. Rating: R Warnings: modern day AU, angst, some foul language
Pairings: 1x2x1 with brief mention of 3xH, implied
5xC Summary: A series of intersecting vignettes back and forth through time documenting Heero and Duo's relationship before and after the apocalypse - including what lengths they'd go to in order to be together again. Author's Notes: I have been writing this since
July so I'm happy to finally have it done! This is what happens when
you get terribly distracted and real life bowls you over with unexpected
news. ;-P
"I Will Find You" 62 Days Since Last Communication
He didn't fucking agree to this. He didn't agree to
being the last person left on the face of the planet. Quickly, he chugged back a few more swallows, the liquor
making his head swim, and he remembered all the times they'd come
out here together, way the fuck past midnight, just to stare at the
stars and the way the moon distorted across the ocean waves and listen
to the crash of the surf. Even if they had been arguing, going out
there... it was like a balm and it soothed away any issues between
them and they wouldn't even have to kiss, just hold each other's hand
and lay back and look up. He told himself it was the burn of the liquor, being
shot down his throat so fast, that had his eyes watering – but
the shit was smooth as silk and he knew it was a piss poor lie. Maliciously his internal monologue tore at him. Why
didn't he consider that Heero might be out of town when shit hit the
fan? Why didn't he realize that no one else out here would be vaccinated?
Why did he agree to any of this? Why did he think he would want to
exist in a world where literally everyone else was dead? At this point, his mind had stopped playing little tricks
on him. It stopped with the ruffle of wind behind him sounding like
a footstep, stopped with the horrifically disconcerting feeling of
being watched when he knew for a fact that no one was there. Now it
moved on to bigger lies. He would hear his name being called in the
distance, crystal clear. Or he'd see someone's back turning a corner
just as the edge of his vision. He wasn't the kind of guy who could live alone like
this. He knew it. He just couldn't. It was something they argued about
a lot, actually. Duo's need for socialization. Heero's ambivalence
towards parties and tendency towards jealousy in social situations.
It wasn't that he didn't like to go out – Heero took him to hundreds
of wonderful places, enjoying his ability to surprise and delight
him. And it wasn't even that he doubted him, that he thought Duo would
find someone else or cheat on him – Duo saw that now. It was
just that Heero didn't give a damn about anyone but him, didn't want
to talk to anyone but him, didn't want anything other than to be with
him. The thought felt like a knife between his ribs and his
next few breaths were filled with agony as he tried to guzzle down
some more whiskey to numb the ache. Now Heero was dead. That was the truth of the matter,
right? He bit his lip hard as the tears came, fingers shaking on the
bottle. Heero was dead. He wasn't coming, despite what he said, it'd
been two damn months, he wasn't coming. Duo buried his head between
his knees and he felt like he was going to be sick as he gulped in
ragged breaths and his stomach churned. Maybe he shouldn't have gone back to the damned apartment.
It had been a week. He'd avoided it like the plague that wiped out
every fucking person on the planet, terrified that it'd just be another
god-forsaken day that Heero wouldn't be there. It was too close –
too suffocating. It was everything they were wrapped up and surrounding
him. It was all he had left of the man he loved. But of course a part of him hoped. That stupid fucking
part of him that just wouldn't get with the program. He hadn't seen
another living, breathing human being in two fucking months –
there was no way Heero was still alive. Even if he had been, after
the bombs, after the infection – it didn't take two damn months
to drive to LA from DC. But that dumb fuck little part of him forced
him back there, back to that apartment, where everything was just
as he'd left it a week ago – untouched. It really didn't matter now. He rested his chin on his
knees and wiped the tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand.
Heero was dead. He had to force himself to face that fact now. Heero
was dead and he wasn't coming back and Duo had to move beyond the
stupid notion that he would. Had to make a decision about what he
was going to do in the face of reality. Heero was dead. Duo sat there for a few long minutes and stared, zoning
out to the sound of waves pounding against the shore. When the idea
came to him, he didn't flinch, didn't move – there was no indication
he'd come to any conclusion at all and yet he had. Slowly he lifted
the bottle to his lips, the liquor redoubling his nausea as it slid
into his belly. He truly didn't feel much like drinking any more but
he figured he'd better make sure he was drunk enough that he wouldn't
fight it, that he wouldn't feel it when it happened. He stood when the bottle was nearly empty, unsteady,
feeling like his legs were going to give out under him. He steadied
himself just before he fell flat on his face. The sky seemed to roll
like the ocean and it made him dizzy as he leaned over the rail staring
down at it. Fuck. But this was the best way, right? Realizing he was still holding the bottle he threw it
over the edge and watched it move along the waves, seeming to stay
in place as the water shifted around it. But eventually it filled
up enough to sink and disappeared beneath the undulating sheet of
deep blue. He visualized his body sinking in the same way – swallowing
water until he filled up just like that bottle. He supposed drowning
wasn't the worst way to die – he was pretty sure he saw that
when he tried not to watch everyone around him fall to the virus which
caused extreme pain, agonizing full body rashes and sores, vomiting
mass amounts of blood, and who knew what the fuck else internal suffering
before they died. It didn't matter. He had escaped his fate for too long
now – it was time for justice to be doled out. Shaking he placed
a foot on the wooden fence paneling, hoisting himself up so that he
was leaning precariously over the edge. Fuck but this was a lame way
to die. He wondered if Heero's death had been a bit more glorious.
DC was bombed. That would've been fitting. A man like Heero deserved
to go up in a great, instantaneous flash of light. The analogy and the picture of Heero that the thought
brought up burned into his retinas and brought tears to his eyes again.
He placed his other foot up on the paneling, his whole body shuddering
with drunken nerves. A few shallow breaths filled his lungs as he
tried to settle himself before the final moment. He wondered if he'd
see his life replayed before his eyes. He wondered if he'd see Heero
before it all went black – similar in a way to how he heard him
before the nerve-wracking silence. "Wait! Stop!" Duo wanted to laugh. His mind was playing tricks on
him again but it was too damn late for that now. He wouldn't listen.
He couldn't listen. He couldn't fucking do this anymore. He couldn't
stand to be alone. Trying to remain calm, he ignored the footsteps
his head filled in behind him, sick to death of this stupid game,
unable to believe his mind would do this to him now, after he'd made
his decision, knowing how he suffered over the past two months. It
was damn near ridiculous. But before he could get a leg up and over the railing
he felt hands ripping at his shirt, pulling him off and he fell backwards
heavily onto his ass, his drunken state doing him no favors as far
as balance was concerned. He stared up and blinked several times,
unable to accept that he could possibly be staring into a woman's
face – a real life, living, breathing, human being. Part of him
wanted to believe his mind was still fucking with him, but then the
hands on his shoulders felt so real and she just seemed so... real. "I'm not going to let you fucking kill yourself!" He stared dumbly up at her, mouth moving but no sound
coming out. "Yeah, right? You're the first human I've seen
since everyone died and I'm not letting you leave me here!" Her
voice sounded at least as desperate as he felt and he wasn't really
sure whether to laugh or cry – so a combination of sounds came
out of him that he was sure would've frightened off damn near anyone
a couple months ago. But as it was, he wouldn't have left her under
the same circumstances, and he knew she wouldn't leave him. "Hey, it's okay," she told him a bit more
softly, leaning down and picking up his hand. "I'm pretty shocked
myself to see anyone around anyway. I... I would've said something
sooner but..." She shrugged uncomfortably. "I guess I was
scared." Duo was nodding uncontrollably and his other hand gripped
hers so tight it must've hurt but she didn't complain. "Hey, are you okay?" Her brows knit together
as she studied him and his jerky movements and he shook his head,
feeling incredibly dizzy once more despite sitting down. "I'm really drunk," he finally admitted in
a slur and her face turned from concern to anger. "How much did you drink?" He didn't answer, a little afraid of her but more afraid
of disappointing the last person left alive with him. She shook his
shoulder and he swallowed hard. "Enough to kill you? Because I ain't fucking losing
you now!" Her voice was shrill and scared and she shook him harder.
"You better throw up before it hits your system because alcohol
poisoning is one fucking dumb way to die!" He swallowed again, world spinning, but she wouldn't
let up. "Come on, man, throw it up! You – you can't
leave me here alone again!" Now she was begging and he didn't know what else to
do. Her own panic, her wild eyes, her screech gripped him and suddenly
he realized that there was another living human being right here,
standing before him. He didn't have to doubt any more, didn't have
to wonder, because it was possible. She was here with him and that
meant – that meant that Heero could be too. Heero could still
be out there right now, looking for him, and he was just too fucking
weak to hold on – too damn pathetic to ride out the wait. Shit but she was right! He couldn't give up now.
Not when there was hope. Not when there was still fucking hope. Duo drug himself to his feet, flinging his upper body
unsteadily over the edge of the pier, pressing fingers desperately
into his mouth to retch up the liquor that sat so heavy in his gut.
He didn't need it any more. He didn't need to die. Not now –
no, not ever. Not until he and Heero lived out whatever kind of life
they could together because Heero had to be alive and Duo knew he
was coming. He just had to wait a little bit longer – just a
little fucking longer. He slid down the fencing and stared at her again, worry
creasing her face, and offered her a sorry smile despite his mouth
tasting like bile and the alcohol that had already made it into his
bloodstream still coursing in his veins. "Thanks." His smile was a little goofy and
forced but it was as genuine as he could manage in his current state.
She folded her arms over her chest and stared him up and down, tilting
her head thoughtfully as she contemplated him. "Well, you're not too bad lookin'," she said
at last, "if you're the guy I'm gonna hafta repopulate the earth
with. But a little on the dumb side, I gotta say." Duo shook his head stupidly then held a hand to his
temple as the world reoriented itself. "No," he said, smile widening for one brief
glorious moment as he stared at her. His savior – in more ways
than one. "You're cute an' all, but I ain't fucking you. My man
is coming for me."
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