Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Eternal Series ❯ Eternal Is My Nightmare ( Chapter 2 )

Warnings: None

Eternal Is My Nightmare

There it is again, that soft catch in your breath, the uneasy shifting of your body as you sleep, and I wonder about your dreams. What plagues you as you rest, Heero? What is it that makes you wake up, gasping silently, eyes wide, fighting to control your fear? I wish I knew, but that isn't something I can see.

I roll over onto my side and prop myself up to look at you, sleeping fitfully across the narrow room, sheets slipping off your lithe body and onto the floor as you move uneasily again, onto your back, an arm thrown up over your eyes. And I move to face the wall, even in the darkness of the room seeing the faded and slowly cracking paint, and wait for it to pass. It takes longer tonight than it did the night before, longer by at least fifteen minutes, and the entire time I stare unblinking at this fading wall. Where's my humanity, I wonder, letting you suffer through this as I lay awake, night after night, still in my bed, to let you endure nightmare after nightmare?

It's there I think, unless I lost it and haven't noticed since the cold moonless night in the alley, after the attack that came from nowhere and everywhere, that left me weak and bleeding. More likely after I was gathered into those powerful ancient arms and fed from the fount of immortality. If I lost it, it would be there.

And then comes the end. The bed moans inaudibly as you jerk away from sleep and into reality, dragging in heavy gasps of air that you can't quite stifle. In the dead silence of night I hear as you swallow several times, the brush of the sheet as you drag it back up on the bed and into your lap. I can taste the light sheen of sweat on your skin from here, and still there's the heady sweetness of fear in the air, a lingering afterthought of what held you captive as you slumbered.

I roll slowly over onto my back; turn my head to look at you, only to find that your eyes have focused on me. Our eyes meet and in that instant we see each other unguarded and real, everything laid bare in our souls. You look away first, unseeing across the pitch black room. The air conditioner in the room kicks in with a protesting grumble and hiss, then the steady whine as it forces itself to continue on. I turn onto my side again; away from you and to the wall, when your voice, barely audible even for me, softly whispers my name. I ignore it for a moment, then give into that lure and move again so that I'm looking at you, eyes falling first on the clock between our beds. 3:15 A.M.

"Heero?" I answer after another moment, voice low and unsteady, as if I'm waking from sleep. Not that, I haven't slept in two days, I haven't needed to, but from so long without uttering a sound.

You don't move, don't sit up, you don't even look my way, only stare straight ahead at the ceiling with its cracks and faded white paint, the small brown water spot at the left corner of the room, over the bathroom door. I know you want something, but I cannot force you to tell me if that's not what you want. Still, it takes all my strength not to get up, move over to you, force you to look at me and really see me, even if the cold Prussian staring back at me is devoid of emotion and hard, one of your eyes slightly lighter than the other. A beautiful imperfection on an imperfect creature.

And still I wait, until you take a deep breath, turn your head, look at me again, eyes asking for something that you cannot voice. Words are not necessary, not in the cold dark hours of the night when some things are truly best left unsaid. I push the sheets aside, sitting up slowly, and stand, more than aware of your eyes on my form. I am wearing only a pair of boxers, and the cool air in the room slides like liquid over my skin as I move to your bedside. Another eternity passes and I settle myself at the edge of your bed, looking at you even as you are looking away.

I don't want to play this game anymore.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"…No."

"Do you want me to stay with you the rest of the night?"

The silence is even more palpable than before. I push the sheets aside. "Move over, give me some room," I tell you, standing and pulling my pillow from my bed and tossing it onto yours. You have moved over, given me the room I wanted, and I settle down beside you, stretching out on the bed, hearing it creak softly at the added weight. You settle as well, and I pull the sheet over both of us, it warm from your body heat. I can tell that this is strange for you, but I can also tell that you feel immediately at peace, and that I wonder about.

I also wonder about tomorrow and what it will bring after this night.

Will we go about the day as if the night before was only some distant dream? Talking with the others if you must, comfortable because they haven't seen this of you, can't read past your eyes?

During the day you're a soldier, something you can deal with, a creature that does not have the weaknesses that the beautiful human side of you does. But at night, that is what I see, and that is what I desire.

Why do you push that part of you away? If only you knew that was the one part of myself that I wished I still could feel as I did before.

You turn onto your side to look at me, as if you can feel my sudden aching for things lost long ago, and I give you a reassuring smile. "Get some rest. Death's cousin is sleep isn't it? I'll tell her to be nice."

You give me a small smile at that, and I can feel your thoughts even though I've never once invaded your mind to find them. The consequences of such action, as I have learned, can be more than what the knowledge was worth. But you think how nice that sounds, if only I could do that. I can, and I will I think, by merely being here.

How many nights have I laid awake listening to your suffering, and how many out of those did I want to rise from my bed and come to you, and cradle you in my arms, and wish that I could right the wrongs that have been done, undo the pain that has been endured. How many nights did I never do what I should have?

What I can do now.

I reach out to you and gently smooth your hair out, brushing the strands off your warm forehead, and you allow the touch with another small smile. You close your eyes, trusting me to protect your dreams and sleep, but who will protect you from me.

That is the question, isn't it?

But that is not what is on your mind now, and right that it should not be. Time passes and I continue to touch your face softly, half unaware of my own actions, and you give a soft sigh. Gathering you against my body I hold you warmly, letting your scent settle over me, sure to keep me awake the rest of the night. Your heart beats against my chest, the rush of blood through your veins whispers my name softly, and I decide…what will one taste hurt?