Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Creed Arc ❯ The Door: Forsaken ( Chapter 12 )

Title: The Door: Forsaken

Author: Lethanon

Type: Multi-Part

Warnings: Angst, 1x2x5, Preventers, Psychological....just lots of angst.

Forsaken

Quiet. Dark. Empty. This is my litany; my prayer for my god, the darkness. I wish I could say this is all I have ever known, but that would be a lie, and while I do a great many things lie is not usually among them. Hiding is more my style.

No, I have known many things in my life, but none so intimately as I know darkness. Empty, devoid of life; a state wherein I can choose to be, not be, or simply not choose at all. Just drift, for eternity. I knew this state for a long time, and then it ceased to be. One mistake, one accident, one failure and it slipped through my fingers, thinner than water, lighter than air. Gone. In an instant.

The flip side of the coin is metaphorically light. It is human contact and sunlight on your skin, the breeze a hesitant kiss. It's life. It's wonder, beauty and extravagance in multitudes you would not believe. I do not believe. I do not think I can believe, not when I know there is a curse in my veins. Still, it is something I am in awe of, this light. Complete, total, blinding and numbing awe.

Numb. What I wouldn't give to be numb once more.

It's night. Other than that small observation I can make no guess on the time. I know only that there is no sunlight heating the opposite side of the curtains, and the breeze that trickles through the window, under the sheets and into my very bones is cool, whispering as only the night breezes can. Whispering secrets I do not understand, trying to lull a mind that never truly rests.

Have you ever slept? I mean truly passed beyond the world of thought into a realm where you do not exist, where your thoughts are silent and there is only a body; a shell that breathes. I wonder, sometimes, what its like, to not think, but even in my dreams my mind whispers, and I cannot help but listen for I know no one else will.

I wish I could sleep now. Their bodies are pressed hard against mine, hands splayed over my chest, over my heart, feeling for changes in pulse that might alert them to the fact I am not, as they would like, asleep. Once it might have been enough, that small touch, that miniscule reassurance that I was not alone. Hell, this morning that would have been enough. But now…now is not this morning. Now is the next instant come early, and I do not like it. So I lie still, training I had thought to never need again rising in some giant black bubble and bursting over my subconscious, forcing the blood to move sluggishly, the brain to speak slowly, the heart to rest easy. I want it to pound. I want the roar of blood to wash away these whispers in my mind. But I know it is not for me to dictate what I want. Just make them happy…

We have lived in this house for a time. I cannot even recall how long. Not days, for days pass too easily. Not weeks, for weeks are too frequent. Months perhaps, or years. It matters not. In peace there is no time. There just is, and I don't like it. My point is it has not been a short while, my stay in this house, yet I do not know what I am looking at.

Ceiling, my mind supplies, but I wonder. What colour is it? White, or beige? Is it crumbling or flecking, is it smooth or rough to touch. What does it taste like, what does it smell like? I've never touched it, never even really looked at it, though I've lain on my back for nights on end and stared…through it. Past it. Beyond it. Stared into a gaping black hole, wondering if I just jumped…

I shake my head. It is an unfamiliar ceiling, and that, more than anything else, tells me something's wrong. I cannot help but think of my footpath, that strip of white cement that my feet follow each day in an endless cyclic circle. I know every inch, yet I cannot tell you what my bedroom ceiling is like. Alone, wandering, homeless and near-abandoned I am at peace, but here, in my own bed, with my two lovers on either side, I am lost, failing, falling.

And it fucking hurts. I've said it once and I will say it again. There is only one thing that sucks about getting hurt. It isn't the pain, because to be totally honest I like it; takes my mind off other things. It isn't the hovering of friends and supposedly loves ones, although that is so annoying, but ignorable. No, it's the itch. Once it starts you know you're gone. It's what drives you insane, not that I really need any assistance in that department, thank you very much. Just ask one doctor Sally Po!

I sigh and I could almost hit myself. Heero is instantly awake as my heart flutters under his fingertips and I can feel his gaze on me. I've always felt it, when his attention is completely absorbed on what I'm doing, trying to figure out what I'm thinking. I think he obsesses about it because it's the only mission he can't accomplish. Keep trying perfect soldier boy, keep trying all you like.

"Duo?" That's my name Heero, you're wearing it out. Worn…when did I start to feel this way?

"Heero." Two can play that game. I'm not talking to you, not about what you want me to anyway. You betrayed me…or at least I would like to think you did, because if you didn't it means I really am a screw up and I don't think I can handle that. Not now. Not ever. People aren't supposed to.

"What's wrong?"

Such a simple question, Heero, yet so many ways to answer and so many different meanings. What are you really asking and maybe I'll give you the right one? Are you asking what's wrong with the world because I think people is the answer to that one. If you're asking me what's wrong with you, then your problem is the company you keep. Yes, I am pointing the finger at myself. However, if you're asking what's wrong with me, I can't tell you. Can't tell you because I'm not sure. I only know that some part of me is waking, slowly, even as another part is dying, returning to its convalescence, hungering for a state like death. I'm Shinigami, did you really expect anything less?

"Nothing Heero." When did I forget how to talk to you? Did I ever know how? When did the walls crumble and why didn't I see it happen? Too late now; the floor fell in.

"Does it hurt?"

No, I'm happy as a pig in mud. Nothing is the matter. In fact I was wondering if you would like to do the hokey pokey with me, right here, right now. Even better, lets wake Fei up and ask him top do it with us!

"Nah, it's fine." I'm not lying, not really. It is fine. Like I said, I like the pain, and it's not like I can really feel it anyway. All I can feel is the itch.

"You're sure?"

I stopped, wholly, completely, mind frozen. I was, for the first time in I have no idea how long, not numb. I would have blinked, had I known at the moment how to move, but my mind was the only thing functioning, and all it supplied me with was `wrong'. I stared into his blue eyes through the darkness and a shiver ran down my spine. I felt it, but could not move against it. Wrong.

Am I sure? When did you begin to doubt me so? When did you revert back to that…nonsense? I never needed it Heero, never needed you. I just needed you to let me die. To let it all go and everything would have been fine. Instead…Instead we're stuck in this madness, trying to find a way to exist in harmony but its not working. Not working because some part of me will never let it; because you don't trust me!

Am I sure? Probably not, but there has never time to second guess. Jump right in, go the whole hog. Tell me I'm not sure Heero; be the hero. Tell me what's wrong. Tell me, please, because I can't figure it out. Is the report true? Am I depressed, crazy, insane… I don't know anymore. I'm not sure I ever knew.

Am I sure? On one thing yes; I can't talk to you. Not now, not ever. Not really. I can let some small piece of myself liaise with some small piece of you, but I can't let you see…that. It. Within. Me. Not after that report…not after seeing the look on your face. I got hit by a car. I didn't jump in front of it.

Am I sure?

"Yes."

There are times in your life when you make a statement. Doesn't need to be a big one, or have a great impact; it just has to matter to you. This mattered. It was a statement. I was saying something…

Heero nodded, yawned in my face, rolled over and went to sleep. I feel…alone. I feel…desperate. I feel…like running.

Some things in your life you wish you could forget. I never forget, and for once I'm glad of it. After all, had I been able to forget, I might have forgotten how to crawl out of a bed without bumping or dislodging anything, anyone. I might have forgotten how to sneak from a room without making a sound, without changing my breathing. I might have forgotten how to silence the squeaky door as it opens, closes and locks from the inside while I'm on the other side. I doubt, however, I would have forgotten how to flee.

And flee I did. I didn't bother with shoes. There was a time when I didn't have any, and right then I didn't want any. I just ran, barefoot, concrete slapping against my soles, thundering through my very soul. I needed away. A way out. The streets called and I answered in the only way I knew how.

Run.

If ever there is a time when the mind is clear, it is now, when it has one sole command, one demand, one consuming flame of life you cannot deny. When it tells me to run.

I came to my senses sometime later. I have no idea how much time had passed. I knew the sky had changed colour; the darkness was beginning its descent. The moon was gone. I was standing, surprisingly, in front of Preventers, staring not at the building itself, but at the footpath in front of me. I had run the whole gamet of town…and I recalled only one thing. The desire to run. Something was wrong, but I am not exactly sure it can be made right. So I'm just going to stand here, the cold cement seeping through every pore of my physical being while I pray for something that can make me feel it where it counts the most.

It's not going to come. I stood there until the sun was up and Preventers opened its doors. I snuck in, grabbed a spare uniform from my locker and got dressed, tossing on my gym shoes for lack of anything sturdier. Once I was dressed, I walked out once more and found a seat in the park across the seat, just off my cement path, and I continued to stare at a white slate. Weird? Not really. Just bored, and tired, and so clueless.

The days had come and gone when I would run and not look back, but the need was not out of my system and my morning jaunt had done little, if anything, to solve my problem. Was I sure? Oh yes; the cement was my proof.

I had come here, you see. Of all the places in the city, why here, to this path, to this stretch of land? Because it's cold. Because it's lonely. Because, in its own way, it's dark. Because cement can't feel, or reach out, or offer falsity. Cement cannot lie.

Cement has never lived, nor shall it. It sits above or below life, apart from God's creations, a child of the minds of men. Much like me. Apart…

"Duo?"

Talk about snapping you out of your god damned reverie, quite literally too! It took me a few seconds to recognise Quatre, dressed in that freaky penguin...I mean, business suit. He looked….so much older than me suddenly. Shorter, yes, but still…older.

"Quatre?" I can play that game too. Tell me what you want, my heart's not talking to you today.

I saw that flicker over your face; I know what you're thinking. You're worried because I'm closed off as completely as I had been during the war. Perhaps more so. You're worried I might do something…crazy. I never saw it before, this odd look that lets me know you think there's something wrong with me, but I see it now and you know what? It makes me remember things. Like how you treat me like glass. Note ven expensive china. Just glass.

"Heero and Wufei are looking for you! They rang Trowa…"

Why the hell did they call Trowa? It's not like that clown would really know where to find me! And why are you here if you know I'm missing?

"I...I have to see Une…" You look so worried I can't help but laugh. The problem is we both balk at the sound of it. I haven't heard that sound in…too long.

"Duo…" So soft and hesitant. Just say it! We're both thinking it… "Are you sure you're alright?"

That question again…It's like a goad and I can't help but answer. I do the unthinkable. I reach into the depths…can you see me reaching Quatre? Can you see my hand wrapping around the cold frame, hear the voice bubbling up through me, the ghostly hands reaching out to wrest control? If you could, you wouldn't be standing there.

I put on the mask and a grin split my face. My body was taken from my control and I felt myself sinking, falling, plunging down into a darkness I had thought lost forever, into a state I had almost forgotten. How could I have forgotten such sweet surrender. Do you recognise this person Quatre? It's been a while…I wonder if you'll know the difference.

"I'm fine Quatre!" See, a slap on the back, a smile at the right point and we're still friends. It's all good, yes? "Just call the boys and tell `em I had to come in early and forgot to write a note. Happens all the time."

Well, I don't quite forget, but I do tend to just up and go without leaving any clues to my whereabouts. Keeps my boys on their toes…

You're nodding, walking away, phone in hand as you wave over your shoulder and I sit back down. My gaze lands on the footpath and I feel that shiver running down my spine again. You didn't notice. The space heart was fooled. Maybe they lied…maybe you never knew me…What if no one ever really saw beyond…If they don't understand…

I am truly alone. I don't simply think it…I am.

It's not just quiet, it's deafening. Only thoughts live here. Not just empty; it's a bottomless pit I could fall in forever. It's not just dark; its pitch and I'm drowning in it. Drowning…no, drowned.

I stare at the cement, at the refracted colour smacking against it, refusing to look up. No one is watching. No one cares. Am I sure? Oh yes.

I'm Forsaken.