Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Bloody Valentine ❯ Chapter 10
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: KentraShinataku02 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance | Type: Songfic | Uploaded On: 07.22.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 269 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance | Type: Songfic | Uploaded On: 07.22.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 269 | Status: Completed
Title: Bloody Valentine
Author: Kentra Shinataku
Anime: Gundam Wing
Pairings: 1x2, 5x2, 5x1
Archive: <http://www.deathandpassion.cjb.net>
Category: Angst, Romance
Rating: R/NC-17
Spoilers: None
Warning: Songfic, Death, AU, NCS, dark
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, or Bloody Valentine by Good
Charlotte...
//thoughts//
_emphasis_
~/flashback/ ~
**********
Bloody Valentine: Part Ten
The light crept in, slowly, hazy, tiptoeing over the borderlines of dawn and darkness. Blood was everywhere, dripping from his fingertips, wrists, eyes mouth. It painted the cold concrete of the sidewalk. The blood kept flowing, raging, gagging. It became an ocean of crimson, rising above him, drowning his faceless buildings, demons, clouds. It rose above his head and he tasted it, thick on his tongue.
It tasted good.
The moon was gone. The light was gone. The eyes were closed.
+
A child was crying in the corner of a colorless world, cradling a dingy stuffed mouse against his chest, leaning against a stained wall. Grey, black, white. There were raised voices, foreign voices, yelling voices in ridiculous tones, tones that carried an emotionless emotion. There was a ringing… a phone. A loud bang like the sound a carelessly tossed piece of wood radiated. The phone kept ringing. The world slipped, phasing over to red.
+
"Fine then!"
And with that, she fell. The cracking sound echoed, throbbing, pounding, and he didn't know from _which_ it came. He started running and cascaded into the glass. It stood in front of him, too rigid, too innocent, too perfect. A finger slid down and it shattered at his feet, particles tiny like ash. From it's remains sprang weeds of barbed wire. It choked his throat.
+
Enormous hands caressed the skin, tearing it with such a delicate silk touch. The invasion was foul and soiled, body and mind. Too much feeling, touching, skin, tears. Just a child, the money meant nothing to him.
The razorblade did.
And the blood, seeping through the cracks of the wall.
It saw, it saw everything. It saw the death, and the pain, and the hatred. And the red shadows. All of them.
+
The blackness choked his lungs and he realized that it was smoke. Natural. Filthy.
"Mommy?"
Ignored, the room filled with people, friends of _them_, not of him. All of them drunk.
"Mommy?"
His stomach was aching and felt as if it was being sucked inward, vacuumed, collapsed.
"So hungry, Mommy…"
Laughter. Everywhere was laughter and faces and smell. Liquor and smoke choked at his lungs, embracing him in their sinister death.
Death.
+
"No, Heero!"
He felt it more than he heard it.
The fuzzy shadows grew clear, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. Duo was hovering, unclothed, screaming in invisible fear as invisible fists rained down upon his very visible skin. Round eyes were open, stretched, panicked, blazing in violet lightening. Glowing, they turned to him, burning a hole into his soul.
"Why, 'Fei?" Only a whisper. So quiet. Too quiet. "Wasn't it enough? Didn't I take care of you? Why?"
He bolted, the opposite direction, but the voice followed him, whispering in his ear, torturing him. Holding him down, beating him, chaining him. It lead him to a place, a dark hallway. There was a mirror at the end. He pressed his hand against the glass, waiting for it to shatter beneath his touch.
His reflection mutated before him, blood trickling from the inside out to paint his skin. A knife dangled helplessly in his competing hand and he stared at it. Helpless. Alone. The blood on his skin surged from his hand, staining the glass. He tried to wipe it off.
Duo's whisper pried into his ears. "It's all your fault."
He fell to his knees, crying.
+
Duo trailed two fingers over Wufei's arm, hating to watch the nightmares on his face. He often had these dreams while sleeping off alcohol. But the alcohol should have died off by now; it was a little past noon, according to the clock on the nightstand.
Duo shifted, his body aching all over. Heero had definitely done a number on him, and after chasing Wufei through the field and napping against a tree in the cool rain, his muscles had a right to be sore. Without retracting himself from the warmth the quilts radiated, he groped the nightstand blindly for the phone. His first thought was to call his ex-lover, but they had agreed not to speak again for a few days. Let the tension die down. Duo wasn't sure he's want to talk to him again after last night.
Sighing, he dialed his boss's number. He couldn't go in to work today, he just couldn't handle it.
"Hello?"
Duo assumed his best sick voice. "Hey, it's Duo," he punctuated the sentence with a sniffle, "I'm feeling absolutely horrible… can't make it in today."
His boss sighed heavily. "Duo, we really need someone to run pump 7," she scolded gently, "It's all malfunctioning again."
"I'm sorry, I really can't come in today," he paused to cough, "Call Hilde, she can run number 7. Tell her I'll switch her for sometime later this week."
He earned another sigh.
"Fine. Feel better." There was a harsh click as she hung up the phone.
It wasn't as if his job was stressful-- he worked in a fueling station and only a few days a week. But he couldn't do it today, it was too much.
He never would have believed that he and Heero's relationship would end, especially not with Heero breaking it off. Duo had always figured that _he_ would be the one to end it.
He set the phone down again on the nightstand and turned onto his left side, his eyes admiring Wufei in his peaceless rest. His cheeks were scraped and had traces of mud scattered over them, but his skin still bore a pink flush beneath, one of those little things that Duo couldn't resist.
He had just broken up with Heero, but… he had always kept his eyes secretly on Wufei. He really was beautiful, even at his age of unfulfilled maturity. And Wufei loved him…
Duo let his fingers slide down Wufei's slim chest, not light enough to tickle, but not too rough, and brought them down to the hard planes of his stomach where he rested a flat palm. He stirred a bit, but Duo neglected to remove his hand.
The shifting beneath his fingers came in a short rising and falling. Shallow. His breathing was always that way, at least when he slept. Duo realized for the first time that during Wufei's waking hours, he had never made a point of noting his breathing patterns. While he was asleep, though, it was always the same. Rise fall, rise fall, rise fall. Like an unsteady heartbeat. It probably was because such a young body had so often polluted himself with liquor and nicotine. Rise fall, rise fall. Duo loved to watch him as he slept.
His torso stirred again, and Duo moved his hand to brush a stray black strand from his forehead. His two fingers trickled across his face and to his ear, rolling the lobe gently between the pads of his fingertips. He let them linger on his jaw line for a moment. Satisfied that the Asian boy was not yet awake, he breathed, more than whispered,
"Me and Heero breaking up, I don't mind it as much as I should… but you know, Wu,… it's all your fault"
Wufei's throat constricted and threw forth a choked sob. Fort a moment, Duo feared that the words had spread to his ears, but the sounds of his apologies went unheard and it wasn't until a few moments later that Wufei's eyes shot open, horrified and frightened.
Duo released a rickety breath he had been unconsciously confining. It had only been the nightmares.
His eyes were sharp and panicked and his breath was coming in short gasps. Duo wished that he could share in the nightmares, to experience what Wufei had to endure, but Wufei would never disclose, he knew, and he would never ask.
He edged nearer to Wufei and buried his cheek in the warm skin of his stomach, facing him. His hand remained at his face, tracing lazy lines along his jaw.
"It's okay, Wufei, you can go back to sleep," he whispered, soothing. Wufei only made an unconscious mew in his throat that Duo understood as a negative.
"Do you feel sick?"
Wufei shook his head, wincing at the simple action.
"But your head hurts."
The Chinese boy made no motion to agree, but there was no argument either, so Duo pulled away from him to fish for aspirin in the drawer of the nightstand. Wufei radiated an anxious, uneasy hum when the contact was stripped away, as if he hadn't yet fully learned to speak. Duo smiled at him, tenderly, as he popped the two small pills between his lips, consenting his fingers to linger there longer than he normally would have. Wufei, of course, didn't seem to mind, and he opened a small puff of air over the skin before Duo pulled away.
Duo laid his head on Wufei's chest, positioning himself so that he could see into those charcoal colored depths, and he pulled the warm quilt over their joined bodies, warding off the chilled air.
"You know, you shouldn't drink so much. You'd probably feel a hell of a lot better if you cut down on that shit."
He knew it wouldn't solve anything, wouldn't keep Wufei from being the alcoholic that he was, but it needed to be said. He just had to say it.
Wufei's eyes had quieted since the nightmares had evaporated and were focused mutely on Duo. They always were.
The only sound for a long a while was the mixture of their opposing breath figures, which Duo had no choice but to take note of as he was perched atop his companion's lungs. The same short, shallow breathing remained unchanged, but it seemed that during his waking hours, he made an effort to keep it slightly muffled.
The sunlight that the handmade curtains allowed to filter through was caressing Wufei's bronze skin and highlighting his raven hair, so much that Duo realized he was staring uncomfortably. Wufei was returning the sturdy gaze, though.
"Duo," he finally murmured, breaking the discomforted quiet, "you'd feel much better if you didn't let Heero hurt you like that."
Duo's eyes widened a fraction as he bore them into Wufei's. It took him a few moments of building courage to say what he wanted to say, to speak the unanswered invitation that needed to be delivered.
"But, you won't hurt me, will you, 'Fei?"
Pain. Blood. Death.
**********
Author: Kentra Shinataku
Anime: Gundam Wing
Pairings: 1x2, 5x2, 5x1
Archive: <http://www.deathandpassion.cjb.net>
Category: Angst, Romance
Rating: R/NC-17
Spoilers: None
Warning: Songfic, Death, AU, NCS, dark
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, or Bloody Valentine by Good
Charlotte...
//thoughts//
_emphasis_
~/flashback/ ~
**********
Bloody Valentine: Part Ten
The light crept in, slowly, hazy, tiptoeing over the borderlines of dawn and darkness. Blood was everywhere, dripping from his fingertips, wrists, eyes mouth. It painted the cold concrete of the sidewalk. The blood kept flowing, raging, gagging. It became an ocean of crimson, rising above him, drowning his faceless buildings, demons, clouds. It rose above his head and he tasted it, thick on his tongue.
It tasted good.
The moon was gone. The light was gone. The eyes were closed.
+
A child was crying in the corner of a colorless world, cradling a dingy stuffed mouse against his chest, leaning against a stained wall. Grey, black, white. There were raised voices, foreign voices, yelling voices in ridiculous tones, tones that carried an emotionless emotion. There was a ringing… a phone. A loud bang like the sound a carelessly tossed piece of wood radiated. The phone kept ringing. The world slipped, phasing over to red.
+
"Fine then!"
And with that, she fell. The cracking sound echoed, throbbing, pounding, and he didn't know from _which_ it came. He started running and cascaded into the glass. It stood in front of him, too rigid, too innocent, too perfect. A finger slid down and it shattered at his feet, particles tiny like ash. From it's remains sprang weeds of barbed wire. It choked his throat.
+
Enormous hands caressed the skin, tearing it with such a delicate silk touch. The invasion was foul and soiled, body and mind. Too much feeling, touching, skin, tears. Just a child, the money meant nothing to him.
The razorblade did.
And the blood, seeping through the cracks of the wall.
It saw, it saw everything. It saw the death, and the pain, and the hatred. And the red shadows. All of them.
+
The blackness choked his lungs and he realized that it was smoke. Natural. Filthy.
"Mommy?"
Ignored, the room filled with people, friends of _them_, not of him. All of them drunk.
"Mommy?"
His stomach was aching and felt as if it was being sucked inward, vacuumed, collapsed.
"So hungry, Mommy…"
Laughter. Everywhere was laughter and faces and smell. Liquor and smoke choked at his lungs, embracing him in their sinister death.
Death.
+
"No, Heero!"
He felt it more than he heard it.
The fuzzy shadows grew clear, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. Duo was hovering, unclothed, screaming in invisible fear as invisible fists rained down upon his very visible skin. Round eyes were open, stretched, panicked, blazing in violet lightening. Glowing, they turned to him, burning a hole into his soul.
"Why, 'Fei?" Only a whisper. So quiet. Too quiet. "Wasn't it enough? Didn't I take care of you? Why?"
He bolted, the opposite direction, but the voice followed him, whispering in his ear, torturing him. Holding him down, beating him, chaining him. It lead him to a place, a dark hallway. There was a mirror at the end. He pressed his hand against the glass, waiting for it to shatter beneath his touch.
His reflection mutated before him, blood trickling from the inside out to paint his skin. A knife dangled helplessly in his competing hand and he stared at it. Helpless. Alone. The blood on his skin surged from his hand, staining the glass. He tried to wipe it off.
Duo's whisper pried into his ears. "It's all your fault."
He fell to his knees, crying.
+
Duo trailed two fingers over Wufei's arm, hating to watch the nightmares on his face. He often had these dreams while sleeping off alcohol. But the alcohol should have died off by now; it was a little past noon, according to the clock on the nightstand.
Duo shifted, his body aching all over. Heero had definitely done a number on him, and after chasing Wufei through the field and napping against a tree in the cool rain, his muscles had a right to be sore. Without retracting himself from the warmth the quilts radiated, he groped the nightstand blindly for the phone. His first thought was to call his ex-lover, but they had agreed not to speak again for a few days. Let the tension die down. Duo wasn't sure he's want to talk to him again after last night.
Sighing, he dialed his boss's number. He couldn't go in to work today, he just couldn't handle it.
"Hello?"
Duo assumed his best sick voice. "Hey, it's Duo," he punctuated the sentence with a sniffle, "I'm feeling absolutely horrible… can't make it in today."
His boss sighed heavily. "Duo, we really need someone to run pump 7," she scolded gently, "It's all malfunctioning again."
"I'm sorry, I really can't come in today," he paused to cough, "Call Hilde, she can run number 7. Tell her I'll switch her for sometime later this week."
He earned another sigh.
"Fine. Feel better." There was a harsh click as she hung up the phone.
It wasn't as if his job was stressful-- he worked in a fueling station and only a few days a week. But he couldn't do it today, it was too much.
He never would have believed that he and Heero's relationship would end, especially not with Heero breaking it off. Duo had always figured that _he_ would be the one to end it.
He set the phone down again on the nightstand and turned onto his left side, his eyes admiring Wufei in his peaceless rest. His cheeks were scraped and had traces of mud scattered over them, but his skin still bore a pink flush beneath, one of those little things that Duo couldn't resist.
He had just broken up with Heero, but… he had always kept his eyes secretly on Wufei. He really was beautiful, even at his age of unfulfilled maturity. And Wufei loved him…
Duo let his fingers slide down Wufei's slim chest, not light enough to tickle, but not too rough, and brought them down to the hard planes of his stomach where he rested a flat palm. He stirred a bit, but Duo neglected to remove his hand.
The shifting beneath his fingers came in a short rising and falling. Shallow. His breathing was always that way, at least when he slept. Duo realized for the first time that during Wufei's waking hours, he had never made a point of noting his breathing patterns. While he was asleep, though, it was always the same. Rise fall, rise fall, rise fall. Like an unsteady heartbeat. It probably was because such a young body had so often polluted himself with liquor and nicotine. Rise fall, rise fall. Duo loved to watch him as he slept.
His torso stirred again, and Duo moved his hand to brush a stray black strand from his forehead. His two fingers trickled across his face and to his ear, rolling the lobe gently between the pads of his fingertips. He let them linger on his jaw line for a moment. Satisfied that the Asian boy was not yet awake, he breathed, more than whispered,
"Me and Heero breaking up, I don't mind it as much as I should… but you know, Wu,… it's all your fault"
Wufei's throat constricted and threw forth a choked sob. Fort a moment, Duo feared that the words had spread to his ears, but the sounds of his apologies went unheard and it wasn't until a few moments later that Wufei's eyes shot open, horrified and frightened.
Duo released a rickety breath he had been unconsciously confining. It had only been the nightmares.
His eyes were sharp and panicked and his breath was coming in short gasps. Duo wished that he could share in the nightmares, to experience what Wufei had to endure, but Wufei would never disclose, he knew, and he would never ask.
He edged nearer to Wufei and buried his cheek in the warm skin of his stomach, facing him. His hand remained at his face, tracing lazy lines along his jaw.
"It's okay, Wufei, you can go back to sleep," he whispered, soothing. Wufei only made an unconscious mew in his throat that Duo understood as a negative.
"Do you feel sick?"
Wufei shook his head, wincing at the simple action.
"But your head hurts."
The Chinese boy made no motion to agree, but there was no argument either, so Duo pulled away from him to fish for aspirin in the drawer of the nightstand. Wufei radiated an anxious, uneasy hum when the contact was stripped away, as if he hadn't yet fully learned to speak. Duo smiled at him, tenderly, as he popped the two small pills between his lips, consenting his fingers to linger there longer than he normally would have. Wufei, of course, didn't seem to mind, and he opened a small puff of air over the skin before Duo pulled away.
Duo laid his head on Wufei's chest, positioning himself so that he could see into those charcoal colored depths, and he pulled the warm quilt over their joined bodies, warding off the chilled air.
"You know, you shouldn't drink so much. You'd probably feel a hell of a lot better if you cut down on that shit."
He knew it wouldn't solve anything, wouldn't keep Wufei from being the alcoholic that he was, but it needed to be said. He just had to say it.
Wufei's eyes had quieted since the nightmares had evaporated and were focused mutely on Duo. They always were.
The only sound for a long a while was the mixture of their opposing breath figures, which Duo had no choice but to take note of as he was perched atop his companion's lungs. The same short, shallow breathing remained unchanged, but it seemed that during his waking hours, he made an effort to keep it slightly muffled.
The sunlight that the handmade curtains allowed to filter through was caressing Wufei's bronze skin and highlighting his raven hair, so much that Duo realized he was staring uncomfortably. Wufei was returning the sturdy gaze, though.
"Duo," he finally murmured, breaking the discomforted quiet, "you'd feel much better if you didn't let Heero hurt you like that."
Duo's eyes widened a fraction as he bore them into Wufei's. It took him a few moments of building courage to say what he wanted to say, to speak the unanswered invitation that needed to be delivered.
"But, you won't hurt me, will you, 'Fei?"
Pain. Blood. Death.
**********