"The Darkest Reflection"
Written By: Impish
Rating: strong R
Pairings: main 1+2+1, background 2+3, OFC+5 and
4+3
Category: Duo POV with angst, action, drama and
politics.
Warnings: creepiness, more graphic images and
gore
Summery: The earth sphere has moved on into an
age of peace, but Duo is fighting battles of his own. He has reluctantly
joined the Preventers, and is surprised to see Heero sign up as well.
With an assassin on the loose and an increase in suspicious activity,
he’s beginning to realize the fine line between genius and insanity,
and how easily it can be erased.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. Surprise!
And none of the songs or titles belong to me, either.
"The Darkest Reflection"
CHAPTER 15: Staring at the Sun
"You said, 'The cinders are falling like snow.'
There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty
Bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.
Of blue and grey.
Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names
In the flesh of the city.
The sun was stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon
And the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines.
Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward,
And somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation
Scratched into the earth like a message."
-Untitled Poem, by Davey Havok
Life and death are like the two faces of a coin. Even as opposites,
they are dependant upon each other, made beautiful because of the
other. What would life be without the threat of death? Death without
the promise of life?
What if people are made the same way, made to be meaningless without
each other?
The four of us were very still, all acutely aware of the significance
of movement. The only motion after Trowa spoke was the flickering
of eyes, sizing up, evaluating, questioning.
"As promised." Trowa said to me, when Quatre made no move
to respond to his greeting.
"Duo…" Quatre finally managed to spit out, his voice
wary. "What is this?"
I looked at him hesitantly, then back at Trowa. Quatre seemed not
to believe it was actually Trowa standing before him, and Trowa's
expression said the same of Quatre, but in a very different way. I
chanced a glance at Heero. His face was utterly unreadable.
"Duo," he prompted, a certain sharpness to his tone. "Explain."
"As promised." I agreed, ignoring the other two for the
moment. "And since I did everything you asked, you get to do
the explaining."
That made Trowa smile very slightly. "Agreed."
Then, with very deliberate show, he stepped forward to Quatre and
caught his wrist. The other boy tensed, but Trowa took him firmly
by the shoulders, drew him up, and kissed him abruptly. Before Quatre
had a chance to respond, he moved back again, still holding his arms.
"I’ve been waiting to do that for years." Trowa told
him, his voice as calm and quiet as always.
For a second Quatre didn’t seem to know what to say. The blue
in his eyes looked like running water with the swift calculations
that ran behind them. Then his expression turned angry again and he
caught Trowa’s shoulders in the same way that Trowa held his.
"If you're going to do something like that, do it right, damnit!"
He exclaimed heatedly, pulling Trowa’s face down to meet his
again.
I didn't look to Heero to catch his reaction and just walked away,
a faint but satisfied smile on my face. Leave it to Trowa to find
a way to placate both of them before he actually explained anything.
The faint swing of the deck was a familiar sway under my feet as I
wandered to the front of the carrier to sit on the edge of the portside,
letting my legs dangle over the side. Sitting there, I watched the
sun drift just a little higher, washing clean light over the water.
I remembered the sun. The sun was setting.
I had sat and watched the colors bleed into the water. I remembered
the smell of the sea, and I remembered Trowa, standing there behind
me, both of us waiting for the last of the colors to melt away before
speaking.
"So… you don’t really think it’s over, do you?"
I said at last, when the frosty blue had overtaken everything.
"No."
"Yeah, me neither."
He came to sit beside me. "The battle of the lonely soldier is
unending."
"I know we didn’t kill anyone in that last mecha battle…
but I’m still Shinigami. I’ll always be a killer. Doesn’t
matter how many people sign that treaty."
"They think it’s over. But now is when the wolves, hidden
in the shadows for so long, will strike under the cover of peace."
I looked at him with interest. "You know about something, don’t
you?"
Heero’s footsteps rung out on the metal deck behind me and he
sat down without a word, just staring at me staring at the sun.
"You still have questions?" I murmured, the words almost
carried away by the wind.
"Trowa explained about…" Heero paused. "He was
the reason you never got another partner until me. He never really
left, and he’s been your undercover partner for a year. Undercover,
as a gunrunner."
"Yeah. We knew after what happened with Relena that we needed
someone on the inside." I said heavily. "Trowa was the obvious
choice, with his skills in infiltration and general knowledge of weapons
dealing."
Technically, we didn’t even work for Une. Nowhere in our contracts
had it said that we worked under anyone, only that we were to lend
our expertise in this particular operation. Letting Une assign me
other cases and the work with other people were just covers for what
Trowa and I had really been doing. The last two years had been dedicated
to this mission alone, and everything else had been strictly voluntary.
Heero looked pensive. "You let those rumors go around so no one
would find out. You let me believe them so that I wouldn’t find
out, either."
"Yeah." I fingered the railing, picking at chips of paint
that were peeling away, while I watched him. "Pretty much."
"Why did you make us think he'd really switched allegiances?
Why wait until we got on the ship, why not tell us when you revealed
everything else?"
"I wish I could have." I turned my head to look back out
over the water. "Trowa and I made a promise to each other. When
all of this started, we wanted to keep everyone else out of it, so
we decided to keep his role strictly secret. But you became my partner,
and then Quatre was mixed up in everything… I couldn't keep the
secret any longer. Trowa didn't want Quatre involved any more than
he already was, and he thought Quatre might stay away if he really
did think Trowa had betrayed us."
"How did you keep in contact with him?" The water reflected
off Heero’s eyes, the color of them clear and incredibly bright.
"Poseidon." The wind thrashed my bangs about my face and
tore strands from my braid.
"The hacker Wufei was after." He said calculatingly.
"Yeah. Poseidon… Triton. It was Trowa. He left a code in
the Preventer network by rearranging files. That’s why Une put
Wufei on the case… she knew it wasn’t his specialty and
that he had more important cases that he'd give priority to. I'd respond
in another code by writing Une an email."
"So then why did you really not want anyone to know about you?
Being a Gundam Pilot?" He asked.
"You mean why not just come out and tell everyone on my own terms
what they were bound to find out anyway, instead of waiting for it
to come out in some strange, potentially embarrassing way?" I
sighed. "It’s easier to hide when people don’t think
of you as a killer. It tends to make you stand out. I guess I just
wanted to hang onto that as long as I could."
He seemed to think about that. If he had asked me then if there were
anything else he should know, I would have told him. It was probably
better that he didn't.
It wasn't too long after Heero left to go find Quatre before Trowa
joined me at the bow. He stood to the side of me, leaning on the rail,
looking out over the water. The rising sun that gave his skin a golden
sheen was also shone in his hair.
For a while, neither of us spoke, but after an elongated pause, he
put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, the wind still whipping
my bangs across my face.
I quirked a grin. "You have somewhere private we can go?"
He offered a hand to pull me up and I took it, standing slowly. His
hand reached out deliberately and smoothed my bangs back out of my
eyes to study me.
"You look tired." He said. His voice was fierce and relaxed
in a way that reminded me of his lions. Elegant. Watchful. Dominant.
"I am." I looked back at him openly. "God, I'm so tired."
He dropped his hand and I let my head fall to his shoulder. One of
his arms wrapped around me lightly, the soft hug making me want to
just collapse and give in. I draped my arms around him, and whispered
in his ear. "Glad you’re still alive, buddy."
"You too." He replied and let me go with a faded smile.
The expression lacked filling. There was no joy or humor in it, only
understated condolence. He was just as tired as I was. "Follow
me."
He led me down a ladder to his quarters below deck, shutting his door
and locking it behind us. Without invitation, I sat down on his bunk,
considering us lucky that he didn't share the quarters with anyone.
Finding a private place aboard a ship this small would have been difficult
otherwise.
The small space was grey and dim and smelled of burlap, concrete,
and smoke. There was only the bunk I sat on, a metal table and chairs,
and a standard locker for personal affects and clothes. The table
was clear of charts and inventories and other files of interest. Instead,
there were an un-stacked deck of cards and an ashtray that held a
slowly dying cigarette and a few butts.
"Do you have it?" Trowa asked, sitting beside me.
I gave him a watery smile and reached into my pocket to pull out the
vial I'd stolen from Bosch's satellite. He took it cautiously, as
if he didn't want the slender tube coming in contact with his skin.
It was made of thick glass and half-filled with a liquid of a blue
so deep it was almost black. He looked at it, his thumb stroking over
it broodingly. With a heavy breath and a brief glance in my direction,
he reached past me to pull a med kit out of its place by the bunk.
When he sat up, he set the case on his lap and opened it, carefully
pulling out a needle and syringe.
"Dose?" Trowa asked, slipping the plastic jacket off the
needle and then jabbing it into the rubber cap that was stretched
over the vial.
"Two cc's, I think." I answered automatically as I pulled
up my sleeve. "It will wear off in about six to eight hours,
so we have plenty of time."
"Good." He paused, backtracking. "You *think?*"
I shrugged. "It's the best I can estimate. I didn't really have
time to ask around for the correct dosage."
I reached into the case to pull out rubbing alcohol and cotton balls,
but Trowa's hand on my wrist halted me.
"You don't have to be the one to do this." He said seriously,
looking intently into my eyes.
I looked back at him, unmoved. "We agreed. You would risk your
neck as the undercover operative, and I would do this."
"Things have changed, Duo."
"No they haven't. You know as well as I do that this has to be
done." I said intently. "One of us has to do it, and I'm
not going to let it be you. You have Quatre."
"You have Heero."
The words stung like a volt of electricity through my heart, and I
looked at him with the shock of it in my eyes and in my voice. "No.
I don't."
"But you could. If you wanted to." Trowa said perceptively,
his eyes boring into me. "You could have Heero."
"Don't, Trowa." I said sharply, a shrill anger twisting
in my chest that he dared do this to me now. "Don't make this
harder for me… don't make it more painful than it already is."
"You know there's a reason it hurts so much."
Again, his words struck me and the anger instantly decomposed. Trowa
was right. There was a reason it hurt so much.
I had tried so hard to push away, to keep myself at a distance…
but when it came to Heero, I was just incapable of it.
"I tried… I tried so hard not to…" I whispered,
almost unable to force the words past whatever was caught in my throat.
It was overwhelming how quickly the emotions caught up with me. Fear,
heartache, and so much pain. Pain so severe it was making me black
inside. "Oh, god, Trowa… I can't… I don't-"
Trowa pulled me to him, holding my face against his shoulder, and
put his other arm around me. My breath stopped up cold and hard in
my throat and I felt as if something had wrapped itself around me.
Wrapped so tight that my heart couldn't keep beating and my eyes welled
up. I tried to blink the tears away, but it only made them fall faster.
"I know." Trowa murmured, stroking my hair.
"What the hell have I done? I can't fall for him, Trowa!"
I sobbed miserably into his shoulder. "I can't fall and take
him with me, and I can't let him go."
"You don't have to go down, Duo." Trowa denied harshly.
I ripped away from him and off the bunk, the tears falling fast over
my cheeks in a weak wash. My hands were wound in my hair, and I knew
that I must have looked bloodshot and crazy.
"You know I do. Someone has to." I said in a voice that
was clogged with tears and hurt. "There are still major players
we never identified, including the mastermind behind Solar Industry.
This is the only way to take them down in time."
He set the kit aside and stood quickly to come towards me. I backed
away without thinking, knocked hard against the table behind me, and
sent the cards flying across the floor in every direction.
Trowa's hands locked on my wrists and gently lowered my arms. "I
know." He told me, the words tarnished with guilt. "I'm
saying I'll do it."
I closed my eyes, the unstoppable tears squeezing though and down
my cheeks. "No. Even if things have changed, this is what I have
to do. I'm the better bet, and you know it."
He let me go and sat back on the bunk, head falling to his hands with
frustrated resignation. "I'm sorry."
Weariness settled over me and I fell back against the wall and sagged
to the floor, eyes fixated on the playing cards spread across it.
Trowa handed me the needle.
Trowa was a good gunrunner. He was efficient, careful, quiet, and
didn’t ask questions. It was the other reason we had originally
decided he should go undercover. That, his experience in infiltration,
and his background as a mercenary. I was just used to stealing shit;
didn’t really know enough about buying or selling it in these
quantities.
Trowa made his deal while we moved into position. Quatre was the first
onboard to loop their cameras and security systems, making it fairly
easy for Heero and me to get onboard as well and into position.
The layout was complicated and there was a great many personal guards
onboard, but we had the blueprints memorized, and thanks to Trowa's
deal, we knew pretty much where everyone on the ship was going to
be.
The problem was not going to be getting where we needed to go, but
executing when we got there. The timing was crucial. We had to be
in place at least fifteen minutes before noon, as it would take me
at least fifteen minutes to start what I had to.
Heero and I carefully followed the mental blueprint below deck. The
corridors were narrow and there were many corners for the enemy to
be obscured by.
My heart pounded hollowly, the sound coupled with the faint echo of
breathing as we made our way to the cabin we knew to be hidden away
in a small cargo hold. Heero found the camouflaged door and pried
the security panel off with his knife, then shorted the wires. The
screen beeped its acceptance within a few seconds.
"It's time." I said to myself, and the door swept open.
"Aleski, is everything-" The voice cut itself off when it
realized neither of the figures in the doorway was Aleski.
The room wasn't still for even a second, everything exploding into
motion all at once. My weapon was up and the first two shots I took
dropped the two men closest to us. Heero ducked when the last man
standing sent a spray of bullets his way, but kept moving, managing
to get up under him and knock the weapon from his hand. He grabbed
the bulky throat with his right hand and slammed the guy headfirst
into the heavy plaster so hard that both the wall and his head crunched
and caved in, blood spilling out everywhere.
I holstered my gun and ran to the computer, knowing I didn’t
have very long to do this. I began to key in commands, accessing the
system and typing as quickly as I could manage.
"Duo, what are you doing?" Heero asked insistently. "We
have to find Rostislav."
"He's not here." I told him distractedly, fingers flying
over the keyboard.
"What do you mean, he's not here?" Heero grabbed my shoulder,
but I shrugged it off without looking and continued. I was almost
there.
"Duo, what do you-?"
"I mean he's *not here,* Heero!" I growled. A little over
four minutes until the rest of the leaders realized that, too. "If
things are going to plan, Trowa killed Rostislav two minutes ago.
We're down here for the LX."
"What are you talking about? Why are you shutting down their
communication if we're trying to arrest them?!"
"It's not just a communication system, remember? ZSOLEs are connecting
minds to the computers and the program." I checked the time again.
"The bosses will all be in communication in three minutes and
thirty-seven seconds, meaning they have to have the ZSOLEs in their
bloodstream and in their brains. Meaning if I flood the system, I
can-"
"You can mentally incapacitate the leaders; even kill them, from
here, all at once…" Heero finished. "Making it easy
for the other Preventer forces to capture the rest."
"And it will overload and crash all of their computer systems,
simultaneously rendering all the organizations electronically useless."
Three minutes. "They'll be out of communication, even amongst
themselves, and anyone in charge of anything important will be incapacitated…
it's the mob world equivalent of Armageddon. All our teams will have
to do is sweep up the pieces."
"Why didn't you tell us this before?"
"I need you to make sure no one messes with this program
until this is over. Then go and help Trowa and Quatre."
"Duo. Why did you not tell me this before?" This time the
question was phrased with a tone that said he clearly knew I was about
to do something he wouldn't like.
"Because there's only one way to flood the system." I said
bleakly, and keyed in the last series of numbers.
"Duo…"
I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to me, eyes closed tightly.
I kissed him fiercely for as long as I could; I kissed him as if I
could pour my soul into his.
Then I shoved him away and slammed my hand down on the enter key.
*Flash*
The computer sucked me in, commands and numbers spilling endlessly
in my head as I became part of the connection. My eyes threatened
to roll back in my head from the sudden concentration of it and I
struggled to remain standing. This was just the start, the initial
confusion. Once the ZSOLES were activated, the images would kick in,
jumbled and overlapping. Slowly, they would sort themselves out into
visions that were more lucid.
Shaking my head clear, I collected myself quickly and punched in a
second command, the last command, vaguely noting that Heero was back
up. Too late. This was it.
*Flash*
I fell to my knees, hands over my ears as a sharp pain beamed through
my head. I let out an open, anguished cry as the second wave hit and
the memories were drained and twisted, bloated, magnified.
I knew Heero had to be yelling, but it was only a wrung echo over
the harsh, tight breathing I could barely manage. I think my nose
was bleeding, and I tried to open my eyes, but another wave hit me
and they rolled back in my head.
Disoriented, I tried to get up, but the pain was so dense it blinded
me, stole my balance. I pitched forward, but didn’t meet the
carpet, arms coming to envelope me instead. Hanging in Heero’s
grasp, I tried to stand again, but a flood of bloody images passed
over my eyes so quickly that I almost passed out.
There was blood everywhere. I felt every scar on my body and in my
mind come to life, every hurt, every loss, disappointment, every agonizing
pain I’d ever had, both physical and mental. My brain felt like
someone was tearing it apart in savage chunks. The images accompanied
it all, the sick haunting things that had tortured me in my sleep
for years.
There were hearts, bleeding open hearts, skin decaying, the smell
of disease and burning flesh, and the last screams of the living.
I was being shot, stabbed, beaten.
Nausea hit me as a spasm overtook my entire body, blood dripping down
the side of my face.
I was screaming, I was dying, I was bleeding. I was running so fast
my lungs were about to break at the next intake of freezing air. I
was slashing a man’s jugular and his blood was all over me. I
was running through fire. I was being carried through explosions,
something white billowing out and sticking to everything. There was
water everywhere, there was blood everywhere. I saw Elise and Hilde
dying, one girl's face overlapping the other, telling me what she'd
never found. I was in Deathscythe, laughing hollowly as I cut down
a Taurus.
*Flash*
Numbers poured like blood over me, and I could feel them translating
through the connection, running rampant through the system as they
hit the other minds trapped in it. Like an echo that grew stronger
instead of more faint, their memories were added to the flood, and
each mind was suddenly like a mirror that reflected the pain of all
the others into infinity.
It grew stronger, a bright light glowing whiter and wider until it
exploded from its own intensity.
"You think, you die."
Streets. A gutter, rats and roaches. Blood and mud. Baby Bax stabbed
Crank in the gut.
"Oh, god, they aren't going to get away!"
They all fall down.
"Am I holding you too tightly?"
He'd been coughing up blood before. Now, his face was still and grey,
flecks of blood splashed across one cheek, hand brushed along the
other.
White.
Everything was white. White and cold.
It fell from above in soft flakes from the ashen, clouded sky, down
to the earth that was already covered in a settled blankness. It fell
like paper thoughts, hovering over my skin and landing on my upturned
cheeks, resting there like fallen eyelashes.
The snow melted on contact, but not because I was warm. It melted
into me like it becomes part of the snow already on the ground.
There was something in front of me. I only just noticed its presence
there, even though it was tall, fat and solid. It was a tree, so thick
that it looked like it had gorged itself off the land around it. But
it was bleached colorless and could barely be seen in its white surroundings.
At its base, crumbled and almost swallowed by the wood, was a crypt.
My hand reached out to brush snow from the stone, and I found that
my fingertips stuck to it like a tongue to ice. I yanked, but my fingers
began to sink into the stone. It swallowed my hand, then my arm, crawling
slowly up it until I was pulled entirely into the tomb as I struggled.
There was hardly room enough to breathe, and the smell was dusty and
raw. It was the festering stench of rotting flesh, yellowed and stale,
and so strong I could taste it on my tongue.
I could feel corpses pressed up against me, their tissue giving way
easily beneath loose, gummy skin, decayed like spoiled fruit. My lungs
struggled inside my chest and my muscles tensed and convulsed with
panic. There wasn't light enough to see, but I could *feel* the bodies
mashed against me decaying at an unnatural rate, the skin peeling
and rotting away, the meat withering from the bones, the skeletons
drying out and disintegrating until all that was left was dust and
dead leaves.
They were everywhere, filling the air like smoke, filling my lungs.
I coughed, the chalky filth caking to my skin, my hair, invading my
nostrils, my eyes and my mouth. What had stirred it up was now blowing
it away, the powder filling the air, the leaves whirling tempestuously
and crumbling away. The wind built in force until the dust was ground
away and gone, even from my skin.
As suddenly as the wind had kindled, it softened. I found myself down
on all fours, gasping for air that now smelled of smoke and ash. I
looked down at my hands. The floor seemed to be composed of coals.
Charred, empty coals.
I lifted my head. I was in a church… a little church dipped in
death. Over thick, congealed layers on the walls dripped fresh blood.
The scent of gore lightened my head, and I dizzily stumbled to my
feet. I looked up, then twisted my face away in horror.
Where there should have been a crucifix over the altar, there was
only a post. Tied to it was Miguel Guzmán Ceto, his intestines
dripping to the floor.
A faint whistling began to rise from behind me, and I spun around,
but there was nothing there but pews and blood. The whistling grew
distinct enough for me to make out words.
"…Conscience does make cowards… make cowards…
cowards of us all…"
The coals began to crackle and shift, rolling beneath me, and I lost
balance, falling hard. It hurt more than it should have. Skinned and
bleeding, I struggled to stand again, but the ground would not keep
still. The whispers seemed to skitter across the church from behind
the pews. They grew louder, bolder, spinning around my head in a crescendo.
"Conscience does make cowards of us all… their currents
turn awry, and lose the name of action…"
The voices had grown too loud. The coals shifted again. With no further
warning, they collapsed and a great hole opened. I fell into darkness.
The light above poured down and cut through the water in flat rays.
My hair was unbound, clouding the water like ink, and through it I
could see flowers floating on the surface high above me. My lungs
burned for air, but my limbs were numb and unable to move, and I sank
further. The cold, muddy bottom was slick against my back as the hazy
black closed in on my vision. Oh, god, I couldn't breathe…
"No!" The sharpness of the word cut through the water.
"You can’t make me leave you behind anymore!"
Heero?
A gush of air sucked into my lungs, and my eyes flew open.
It was hard to see. Everything was too bright or too dark. The first
thing I made out was a person standing over me with paddles, a look
of relief on her face.
My eyes fluttered. There was a thick pain coursing over my entire
body, but somehow, I felt past it to the hand gripping my arm. I smiled.
Heero.
My eyes twitched.
The moment I opened them, I knew I was drugged up pretty good. Everything
had that distant, glossy feel to it, but I wasn't disoriented enough
to be on anything like morphine.
"You've been out for quite a while."
I turned my head to find the source of the sound. Trowa sat beside
the hospital bed, a book held loosely in one hand.
"Is this a dream?" I asked, my voice harsh from disuse.
"Not that I'm aware of." He answered evenly, setting the
book aside. "Can you tell me what you remember?"
"I remember… the boat. And the computer. Was… did we
succeed?"
"Yes. I killed Rostislav myself. One of the seven leaders died,
three are in a vegetative state, one is in a coma, and the other two
were driven insane."
"Did we find whoever was behind Solar Industries?"
"A woman named Nancy Colton. She appears to have had a personal
grudge against Lady Une, and was apprehended when we checked hospitals
to see who might have been affected by ZSOLEs."
"Is everyone okay on our end? Casualties?"
"None of our people were killed, but there were a few minor injuries."
He smiled slightly. "Wufei has a broken nose."
I laughed. "Oh, I can't wait to see him…"
"Well," Trowa said with a more serious expression, "You
were very nearly a casualty. We had to MedEvac you out, and your heart
stopped twice on the way to the hospital. You coded again yesterday
and they had to shock you."
Shock… I remembered the paddles, and Heero, gripping my arm.
"Where's Heero?"
"He's all right. Quatre made him go home. We've been taking turns
sitting with you." He paused. "By the way, you had surgery."
"Say what?"
"You gave me medical power of attorney two years ago. When you
were considered to be in stable condition, the doctors asked for consent
to operate on your ankle. They couldn't believe how long you'd put
it off."
I sighed. "I've been getting that a lot."
A smirk crawled onto his lips. "So I've been told. Anyway, the
surgery went well." He picked his book up and stood. "I'm
very sorry that I have to do this to you, but I'm going to go let
the nurse know you're awake."
"Why are you sorry?" I asked warily.
He snorted. "Because it's a medical miracle that you're alive,
awake, and not completely insane. We didn't know if you were going
to be okay when you woke up, and the neurologist was incredulous that
you didn't have brain damage. There's a large crowd of doctors interested
in studying your recuperation." He smirked. "In other words,
you're going to be undergoing a lot of testing for a while… so
promise me you won't escape before they discharge you?"
I did, but soon wished that I hadn't.
He was right. The next two days were hellacious. Poked and prodded
does not even begin to cover it. I had every test in the book performed.
Repeatedly. They were driving me crazy trying to figure out why I
wasn't crazy. And the doctors refused to let anyone come and see me
"for the sake of my recovery." Anyone, including four ex-Gundam
Pilots, which was somewhat suicidal if you asked me, but then again…
I’m not the best person to ask anything about when it comes to
suicidal.
Finally, on my way to another CAT scan, I gave my orderly the slip
while he was in the bathroom. Don't worry, I left him a note on my
wheelchair.
Since I'd promised Trowa I wouldn't leave, I hid out on the roof instead.
I was up there for an hour before I was found, determined to at least
stay long enough to watch the sunset. It was just slipping below the
horizon when once again I heard soft footsteps approaching me from
behind.
It was Heero. Surprised, I blinked as he sat down next to me on the
roof's edge, watching the sundown in the lightly frosted twilight
air.
"They called us when they couldn't find you." He said minimally.
"Oh."
"Was that what you meant when you said… it was because of
Trowa?" Heero asked. The gold of the dying sun glimmered on his
face, his eyes glowing impossibly clear.
"Yeah. It was." I tilted my head to look at him. "Something
almost happened… a lot of times. But it never did. Trowa was
in love with Quatre, and me… I was going to die."
"We're all going to die, Duo."
I smiled a little and looked down at the cold concrete. "Yeah.
But… in the war, we fought like we might die any moment. This
time, it wasn't just a highly probable calculation. It was for sure.
I was going to die. That was the deal, from the very beginning. And
I knew when. And how. And why. And because of that, I couldn't let
myself love anything. Or anyone.
"But…" I continued. "When it comes to you, I've
found I just can't help myself."
"We aren’t ever going to live like normal people, are we?"
He said without a trace of longing.
I laid back and looked up into the bluing sky. "Would it be so
bad not to?"
He settled back as well, his position mimicking mine. "You know,
I really don’t think it would be."
There was a long silence, the only noises to be heard coming from
the restlessness of the city emerging to meet the night. The strange
rattling, zooming, rustling of the dark rose like music in my ears,
until I could no longer hear the beating of my own heart.
"A clock is ticking. Can you hear it?" I asked, my voice
as faded as the light. The sky was full, blue and clouded, but the
moon was so bright that the cracks between the clouds glowed like
neon. "People keep saying we need to live now, to enjoy life
while we're still young."
"Why is that? Is it because we don’t have time to live when
we’re old?" I reached up, tracing the lines in the sky.
"What’s the purpose of living without being alive?"
I rolled halfway over, pillowing my head on his chest. He wrapped
an arm around me, his weight solid and real. His heartbeat pulsed
warmly against my ear, and I felt some of his heat soak into me.
"I don’t want to be dead anymore, Heero." I said. Hushed,
as if I were revealing some sad secret.
"I know." He said softly.
I shifted, lifting my head so I could look at him. He searched over
my face and into my eyes, and the look he was giving me was something
intimate that would either save me or kill me.
"Without you, I’m nothing." I said. Eyes closed, I
brought my forehead down to rest on his, the tips of our noses barely
touching. He tilted his head to the side, and his lips met mine softly.
Faintly, like a whisper.
"Without you, I’m nothing." He echoed, just as faintly.
Heero knew me, could see me. He saw all the reflections, loved all
the reflections of me. But he could tell which one was real, and that
was something even I couldn't do.
"You know about something, don’t you?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Staring at the Sun" by TV on the Radio
~ Cross the street from your storefront cemetery
Hear me hailing from inside and realize
I am the conscience clear
In pain or ecstasy
And we were all weaned my dear
Upon the same fatigue
Oh my own voice
Cannot save me now
It's just
One more breath
And then
I go down
Your mouth is open wide
The lover is inside
And all the tumults done
Collided with the sign
Note the trees because
The dirt is temporary
More to mine than fact face
Name and monetary
Beat the skins and let the
Loose lips kiss you clean
Quietly pour out like light
Like light, like answering the sun
You're staring at the sun
You're standing in the sea
Your mouth is open wide
You're trying hard to breathe
The water's at your neck
Your body's over me
Be what you will
And then throw down your life
Oh it's a damned fine game
And we can play all night ~
End
~ * ~
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