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"From the Shadows to the Light "Written By: Hemlock Inyx Category: Supernatural/Romance AU Pairings: 2x5x2 Rating: R Spoilers: Mild, if any. Warnings: OOC-ness, yaoi, vampires DISCLAIMER: This chick does not own any of the Gundam Wing characters because they belong to Bandai and Sunrise. I am borrowing them for this fict and will return them in good (if somewhat sticky) condition. I also don’t own Lynn Erickson’s Out of the Darkness, on which this fict is heavily based (well more like a fusion/translation). This fict is written out of love and not for profit, don’t sue. Thanks and enjoy! This is dedicated to: TJ Dragonblade for all her enthusathem for this fic. Thanks for being so crazy TJ. Summary: Chang Wufei had sworn revenge on the creature who had made him less than a man—had sworn to strike him down. Then he met nurse Duo Maxwell, who reawakened all the best parts of his latent humanity. But Wufei knew he was putting Duo at risk—and not only from himself. His old enemy Milliardo took an unholy interest in all Wufei’s affairs. Duo was a fighter, though. He believed in Wufei. He believed that Wufei could be cured of his "condition," that they could find a way to have a life together. But Duo hadn’t reckoned on Milliardo, who was determined to thwart Wufei—and Duo—until the end of time.
" From the Shadows to the Light "
Chapter 18 Outside Wufei’s brownstone it was mild, the late February sun thawing the earth. Golden sunlight streamed through the attic windows and the newly installed skylight and warmed Duo's shoulders. He squirmed on his stool. "Can I at least get up for a minute and stretch?" he asked. But Wufei only frowned, going back to the canvas he was working on; his concentration total. "Wufei, I'm stiff as a board. And we have a ton to do this afternoon. You have to meet with the hospital board at three, the architects at four…" "Your new wing will still he built if I am five minutes late," he said distractedly. "My new wing? I suppose there'll be one of those plaques at the entrance. Donated by Duo Maxwell, ER Nurse. Right." "Duo Freed Chang, as of forty-eight hours ago," he said, wiping a palette knife with a rag. "I cannot seem to get this shadow correct." "You're not used to the light yet. Give it time." "I paint worse than an amateur." "You're doing great." Duo shifted a little, his neck cramped, and could feel Wufei frown at him. "Sorry. Anyway," he said, "put your name on the plaque, Wufei. I'd die a thousand deaths if anyone saw mine there." "You must get used to the notion of your wealth, Duo." "Right. Sure. But indulge me just this once. I still work there part-time, and I'd be so embarrassed." "Ah!" Wufei said, palette knife in hand, poised over the canvas. "I do believe this is close." "Can I see it yet?" "No, not yet," he said, looking so concerned, that Duo laughed. "You mock my efforts?" he said dryly. He loved his new Wufei, although really he was not so different from the old one. A bit less silent, less moody, more spontaneous, but still the same man he'd adored from the first. Each day of his recuperation had seen them grow closer, discovering new things about each other. Wufei was a man with a heavy burden removed from his shoulders, and he had told him everything about his life, so much that he couldn't take it all in. So much was changed, yet one thing remained the same, looming larger as the days went by. They loved each other in all ways but one, that one way that defined the human condition. Oh, Wufei tried very hard to pretend there wasn't a problem, but it stood between them, and they both played an elaborate game, the object being to save the other unhappiness. Last week they'd gone to Brooklyn, in the new Volvo he'd bought for him, because, Wufei had pointed out, it was reputed to be a safe vehicle. He really was a poor driver, he'd noted cautiously, and unused to driving in the traffic. He’d told Wufei he ought to get a license himself if he didn't like it, and how would it have looked to his parents and their neighbors if they'd driven up in a limo? "It would appear that I take excellent care of my fiancé," he'd remarked, shaking his head at him. Still, the entire family had been in awe of Wufei, utterly charmed by his impeccable manner and speech and the obvious affection he had for Duo. Then the fateful moment had arrived when they'd all sat down for dinner and Dorothy served her pot roast. Wufei had taken his first bite, chewed slowly and thoughtfully, swallowed and declared that it was superb, equal to any he'd tasted in the capitals of Europe. After that Wufei was, for better or worse, one of the family. They'd married quickly and quietly at the courthouse two days ago, exchanging vows and simple gold wedding bands. To Duo the moment was as thrilling and as magic as a royal wedding, and when Wufei had kissed him gently in front of the judge, he'd never known such happiness. Duo had been certain they would work things out at last on their wedding night. They'd gone to a little French restaurant for dinner that evening, and it had been so romantic, the champagne, the flowers Wufei had had delivered to their intimate table, the way their eyes had met over each mouthful of food with a secret knowledge. Yes, Duo had thought. This was going to be the night. "To my love," Wufei had said, raising his wineglass, his onyx eyes dancing in the candlelight. "To the most beautiful man on the face of the earth." At home he'd undressed him, and he him. Wufei’s hands, his touch, his breath on his nakedness had been sweet torture. They'd lain on the bed, clasped in each other's arms, and Duo was breathless with expectation. So in love, so very much in love he was deliriously happy. But then something had happened; it seemed such a small thing when Wufei had poised over him and he'd instinctively tried to guide help him, but apparently that was all it had taken to diminish his manhood. He'd rolled off and come to a sitting position on the side of the bed, his head in his hands. "I am no husband,'' he'd said, and then he had risen to his feet, snatching up his robe and stalking out. His wedding night. Their wedding night, and he'd ruined it. Duo had cried himself to sleep. The next day, yesterday, Duo had realized that with his new condition, with mortality, came all the strengths and weaknesses, all the follies and glories, of mankind, and he knew that Wufei wasn't going to feel truly male until he could perform that one simple, basic function. And now, today, the act--or, rather, the lack of it--hovered over them like an avalanche ready to break. "You can stand up now," he was saying, cleaning off his brushes, the knife, studying his morning's work. "I dare say," he began, then corrected himself. "I mean, I don't think I'll ever be a truly great artist, Duo." And then be smiled at himself. "Oh, well, it's the pleasure I get from the act of painting that counts, not the fame." "Right you are," Duo said, stretching, watching him, his heart swelling just as it had the very first time he'd seen him. He'd never, ever, get tired of watching Wufei. They had a late lunch in the garden, which was still bare, but the sun was marvelously warm. "I will never grow used to the sun," Wufei said, stretching his legs out, tilting his head back. His mannerisms were purely human now, purely male. "Maybe you'd like to move to someplace warmer, you know, like Arizona or Florida, where there's more sun," Duo suggested. "It is something to consider. A second home." He smiled in his new way, with real humor. "And I will take up golf." Duo shook his head, grinning. "Golf." "And why not? As a boy I was quite athletic." "Tennis," Duo said. "I always wanted to play tennis." "Certainly." "Quite a life you have planned for us, Wufei." "I hope so. I want you to be happy. Ask for anything you want, whenever you want it." "You spoil me. I don't really want much, only you." He turned his face from the sun, and his expression grew serious. "The one thing I have not given you," he said quietly. "You've given me everything, Wufei," he said, sorry he'd inadvertently brought up the sensitive subject. "Please don't..." "Not quite everything." He stood, looking down sadly at him, then walked inside, leaving him there. "Damn," Duo whispered, tears stinging his eyes. Had they gone through so much only to come to this? Duo was a modest man. Although at work he dealt with the human body in all its naked and most basic functions, in his private life he'd always been shy and careful of proprieties. And so he had been with Wufei. He'd felt instinctively, and correctly, that he was a modest person himself. And then, of course, he had been a monk. And because of their natures, their upbringings, he was as incapable as Wufei of talking over their troubles. Duo looked at the door he'd just passed through and sighed. What was wrong with the two of them? Well, he thought, tonight, somehow, they would have to talk, work this out. That afternoon they made both appointments at the hospital and went home, satisfied that Wufei's money was being spent wisely on the wing, but when they arrived back at the brownstone there was a message for Duo--he was needed at work. "Oh, no," he said. "Wufei, I'm sorry. But until the new girl is trained... Promise you'll get dinner?" Wufei smiled indulgently. "I promise. Now go and change and work your magic with the patients. I'll await your return." "I love you," he whispered, and then rushed to change into his uniform, thinking only for a moment that this was the night he'd planned on working things out with Wufei. He pulled on his green scrubs and thought, coward. It was a long night. And Duo didn't get home till almost dawn. He was tired, and as he quietly let himself in and tiptoed along the hall the last thing he expected to see was a light still on in the library. Duo peeked in. Wufei had waited up for him. Wufei looked up from the book he was reading, and then slowly, pensively, he closed it, his eyes fixed on him. "I'm so sorry," Duo began. "Do not be," he said quietly. "I needed the time to think." Still his eyes were riveted on him. "You see," he went on, and he laid his book aside and rose, "I have not been entirely honest with you, and I have been sitting here getting up my nerve, as you would say." "To do what, Wufei?" "It is a delicate subject." "Oh." Duo stood there, knowing, afraid. Oh, God, he couldn't say the wrong thing. "Yes." "Wufei..." he swallowed. "I... I want you to know that it's very common for people to be... ah... nervous the first time." "I fear being…inadequate." And then Duo hid a smile. "There's something you should know, then," he said, his hands still in Wufei’s. "It's always this way the first time. People, well, they want to be perfect for each other. You understand?'' "You are saying... You are telling me that you, also, are afraid?" "Well, nervous, yes. Sure." Duo lowered his eyes. There was a long, anxious moment, and then he felt the warm pressure of Wufei’s hands. "Let us go upstairs," he said softly. "Let us go to bed." And Duo would always remember that first time, the slow walk to the second story, the way Wufei closed their bedroom door and turned slowly to him, the love in his eyes and the beating of his heart. And then, as he stepped up to him the light in the room quickened, and all Duo saw before closing his eyes was a bar of mother-of-pearl brightness from the window as it moved across his face. Then there was only Wufei. Forever.
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