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" Knockin' on Hell's Door "Written By: Maaya
Disclaimer: don’t own any of the guys, or the storyline of Gundam Wing. Even the title of this fic is a bad pun on Bob Dylan’s song; ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door.’ *sigh* C’est la vie, I guess Summary: This is a result of what happens when I am *very* depressed Warnings: Uhh . . . morbid humor, kind of bitter.
Duo and Zechs, after war centric. . Strange-ness. Overused lines,
and overuse of the words morbid. Pairings: 2+6 in a way. Rating: PG
Knockin'on Hell's Door
The headstone, alike to any of the others with its casual shape and light-coloured material, name engraved on the slightly uneven surface was yet standing out like a sore thumb in the graveyard. For starters, so was there no flowers placed to decorate and honour the dead. Then, furthermore, so was the wrong name written on the exterior. -- Milliardo Peacecraft -- Also, Duo mused as he studied the flourished text, so was there the fact that even though the name was dead, so was the person not and therefore was this piece of stone only placed beside Treize’s memorial because his friend Milliardo was dead, not the war and blood-shaped Zechs Marquise. In a way, so had two friends followed each other into the grave. Kind of like Duo himself. ‘Kid’ was dead, he had followed Solo to greet Shinigami, but Duo had been shaped and lived now in Kid’s grown and matured body. Rain was falling along with the soothing dark of the night and Duo could barely make out the name on the stone anymore - yet was he standing, staring at it with eyes refusing to give away. There was nothing left for him to do. Solo was dead, Helen and Father Maxwell was dead, Hilde was still in hospital bed, and Heero had disappeared. Duo was the only one left without a goal or dream. Suddenly, a small, amused snort found its way through his throat and he closed his eyes. “You haven’t fooled many of us, you know.” If Duo’s eyelids hadn’t covered his pupils so would he have seen the dark figure behind the tree move slightly, even though it stayed out of sight. “I thought I would follow Heero Yuy’s example and die.” It said lowly. “You’re kiddin’ me.” Duo snorted again. “Heero said that ‘death hurts like hell’. Was he right?” “Yes.” A short silence followed, only followed by the relaxing smatter of water against leaves. “But shouldn’t you already know that?” “Me?” The braided Deathscythe pilot pointed to himself in a dry gesture of innocent surprise. “I’m just the one who sends the travelers to hell - I don’t follow them. I’m not that morbid.” “Strange.” The shadow mocked. “I’ve always thought of you as morbid. You call yourself Shinigami after all.” “My life is morbid, not me in person.” Duo opened his eyes and grinned at the shadow. “I am probably the only one to say that life is morbid though.” “Life’s always been morbid. After all, what follows is death.” “True.” Duo admitted, then sighed. “But this is becoming way too deep for me.” The figure behind the tree shifted a little, enough to let a long lock of blonde hair fall into sight. “I don’t expect any of you to believe I am dead.” He changed the subject altogether. “But the people won’t believe anything else.” “Heh . . . guess you’re right.” “How is Relena doing?” “She’s fine.” Duo thought for a while. “You should ask her in person though. Would want to hear from you, I think.” “Aren’t you going to ask why I . . . did what I did?” There was no doubt what he was talking about even though the description was somewhat vague. “Nah. You’re dead. Dead people don’t talk.” “So I should shut up then?” Duo could almost imagine how the longhaired figure blinked innocently, but the mental image became too weird and he shook it out of his head. “Milliardo’s the only one who is dead here.” The quiet rustle of rain-wet clothes against the tree indicated a shrug. “Actually, I would wish otherwise.” “Want me to kill you?” Duo asked the question with carefully relaxed attitude. The rain increased and the sound became unnaturally loud because of the sudden silence. The graveyard abruptly felt very lonely and Duo wondered for a split second if his companion had left. The uncertainness shattered only when the answer came, as quiet and careful as all the other words he had spoken. “Maybe.” Duo smirked. “It’s settled then.” “Yes. How are you going to kill me?” “I’m going to let myself love you.” Zechs raised an eyebrow, but it was hidden in the darkness. “Love me?” Duo smiled bitterly and turned his face upwards to let drips of water fall in his face. “Yes. Love you.” *** The End |
