Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any characters in it. Gundam Wing belongs to Sotsu, Sunrise, ANB, and other rich people. I am not making any money off of this, and I have no money so don't sue me.
Warnings: 2+5. Simple musings, implied shounen ai, ok, we're going slightly beyond implied but there's still nothing explicit. More angst, lots of angst.
I watched the flames burn. I watched the buildings turn to char and their contents disappear, melting into scrap and rubble. I waited and I laughed. I laughed and I watched.
Slowly but surely the contents of the buildings became permanently unusable and the data irretrievable. And still I howled.
I began my retreat, flames warming my back, bringing memories to the fore. Memories of other explosions, deaths, and rampant destruction.
I fled the scene and I tried to flee my memories as well. I fled, trying to outrun the blackened bodies. Trying to avoid twisted metal and fallen stone, rubble rolling dangerously under my feet. Rubble that tore with wet gasps and sickening cracks. Rubble that stared up with sometimes blind but always accusing eyes.
I ran from my curse and into the arms of the dead. Some were burned while others had running plague sores. I could also see gunshot wounds, knife slashes, and punctures from needles.
They reached for me and my laughter cut off. I twisted and turned trying to avoid their cracked and decaying hands. Hands that reached for me and tried to pull me into their midst.
But no matter which way I turned they were there reaching… always reaching.
I whimpered.
No way out.
I dashed into the crowd, shoving and kicking. I tried not to see their faces, to hear their voices. Tried not to remember who they were. I slapped the grasping hands away, panic clawing my throat.
I tripped. Fell. My stomach dropped and it never seemed to catch up with the rest of me. It never seemed to end. I landed, jarringly, on my hands and knees. My jaw clicked shut and I stared at the littered ground. Trash, leaves, bone fragments, and shattered concrete lay just below my nose. And so did one pale and bare foot.
My eyes followed the extension of the leg, clothed in tattered black, up a too-thin body. I followed the line up to the face… A face that was hidden behind a curtain of tangled hair.
Hands reached for me, grabbed me, pulled me unresistingly back into their midst. A choked cry escaped my mouth and the figure shifted. Through a break in the hair I could see one haunted eye and a soft voice spoke.
“Go away. You don't belong here. Go away and stay with the living.”
I stared, my body still as the hands continued to pull me. I found myself drowning in sparkling indigo.
The hands grasped me tighter, dragging me away from the figure. I didn't want to go and they were cold and dead.
I struggled again and a scream ripped free and ended in burning pain.
“Maxwell!” his voice shouted. I knew his voice. “Maxwell, stop struggling.” I knew him. “You're going to hurt yourself or me,” his voice continued, urgently.
The hands were disappearing one by one and the half-curled and ragged figure was long gone.
His voice stayed though, talking to me softly and I fought to focus on it as it drew me out and away from the hands.
I followed it, slowly. I gathered myself and watched as the tattered strings twisted loosely, almost dancing, and then gradually they were somehow folded over and they began to reluctantly draw back in.
“Maxwell, open your eyes,” he said. What did he mean? My eyes were open and I could see all too well. I saw the edges and the distant figures that wanted me to remain even as they drew further and further away.
A sigh of relief was trapped behind my closed lips. If I released it they would come back. I knew they would.
“Maxwell… Duo, please open your eyes.” His voice sounded worried. The edges pulled further back and the light faded. Night was coming. Or perhaps it had already fallen and it was just the fire fading?
“Duo,” his voice echoed, bouncing off the walls that surrounded me. “Duo…”
I blinked, confused. Walls? The walls had all burned down…
Whispers shivered through the air, brushing the ground and hissing on the ceiling. Lower voices occasionally rumbled to life in response to their rumors.
I desperately tried to hear what they had to say, but I couldn't make it out. I feared it was them, trying to call me back.
“Duo… Come on, Duo,” he called again. He was insistent; determined to get his way.
Something crashed violently to the ground, shaking the foundations around me, shattering them.
I snapped bolt upright, eyes wide open and staring. White light flickered and faded leaving the room only dimly lit. Dark, worried eyes stared into mine and his hair feathered around his face.
“Duo?” he asked, watching me closely. “Are you all right?”
Rain brushed the window tapping out a light tattoo. I looked around trying to anchor myself to time and place. My clothing was scattered over the floor in my own quirky organizational system of dirty vs. clean, work vs. fun. A pair of boxers hung off the handle of the chest of drawers. Comic books lay where I'd left them, one or two were open and the rest were encased in their plastic wrappers.
And then there was Wufei. He sat on the edge of my bed looking uncomfortably at me. Looking as though he didn't know why he was in here, or what was wrong with me. I looked down at the tangled sheets that were knotted around me. His hands tightly gripped mine. And then he shifted and I saw that he was sitting on possibly the worst part of the twisted blankets.
“Duo?” he asked worriedly. “Are you all right?”
I swallowed convulsively, unsure. I didn't know what to say or what to do. I wanted to run, to hide, and more than anything else I wanted to fling myself into 'Fei's arms and cry. But I knew I couldn't. He wouldn't accept that. He'd think it weak, not worthy of a warrior. He'd think it not worthy of the cause he fights for, that he accepts our help with. I can't betray that, not to him. Not anymore than I already had.
“Duo?” he asked again. I sucked another gasp of air into my starved lungs and wondered what to say. What I could do to save myself.
I shrugged internally, knowing that I couldn't speak about what I know or feel. That I'll never tell him about my dream. I won't do that. Which only left one thing to say. “Thanks for waking me, Wufei.” I smiled faintly at him, and began to disentangle myself from the sheets. “I'm fine,” I continued, trying to paint the best picture of things.
I really was fine. I was alive and not really hurt, which is really all that counts. I wouldn't sleep anymore, but what's a night's sleep here and there?
Wufei looked as though he didn't believe me. I crawled out of bed and headed over to the window. “Completely fine,” I whispered to myself, “which is more than can be said for most people…”
I watched 'Fei approach me in the glass's reflection. “Are you sure, Maxwell?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “Thanks again. You should get some sleep Wu-man, who knows what tomorrow will bring.”
His reflection frowned. “Did you want to talk about it? Your dream appeared most unpleasant.”
My heart screamed yes, but my mouth said, “No, but thanks.” I flashed him another smile; one that I was sure didn't reach my eyes. “I really can't,” I said. And I couldn't for so many reasons. I couldn't tell him about my past. I couldn't tell him my fears. I couldn't tell him my feelings for I am the God of Death, and I couldn't let him die too, not like everyone else. And I couldn't let him betray his cause.
I wanted him to stay, but more than that I needed him to go. I needed to cry. For me, for them—my wraiths and skeletons—and for the ragged boy, and perhaps especially for 'Fei, and for what could never be. And when I was done crying, then I could go back to laughing for all of them, and living for them as well. I know my duty.
He looked at me again, and nodded formally. “Very well then,” he said, and walked to the door. “Good night, Maxwell.”
“Night, Wu,” I replied, following him over, and then I firmly closed it behind him. I stood there listening for a few moments, waiting for him to leave. He eventually did, and when his soft footsteps faded I felt myself break down.
I fell back across my bed, tears falling down my face, and I sobbed for everything that I've lost, everything my victims and friends have lost, and perhaps even for everything we will ever lose. It's the very least I can do.
~Finis, for now.
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Copyright 2005