Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Last Chance ❯ Tears in the Dark ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Violet_Nyte 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Angst / Supernatural | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 05.05.2003 | Pages: 4 | Words: 2.3K | Visits: 665 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Angst / Supernatural | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 05.05.2003 | Pages: 4 | Words: 2.3K | Visits: 665 | Status: Work In Progress
LSE // 5-9-03
(Last Chance - Tears in the Dark)
rated: PG13 - language, content
shounen-ai/yaoi
Tears in the Dark
-
Heero stared into the dark depths of his coffee, the hospital around
him nothing but a distant blur. The sounds of nurses and machines
faded out in favor of his own silent mantra. Please, Duo, don't die...
Don't die. Carefully rolling the coffee cup in his hands, Heero tore
his eyes away from the dark liquid to stare blankly at the muted
television bolted into the ceiling.
Anything to stop thinking about that final vision that kept fluttering
in his mind; Duo, pale and limp, being loaded on to the stretcher and
wheeled out among yelling hoards of nurses and doctors. The emergency
room's double doors swinging shut, a young nurse trying to hold Heero
back, explaining he had to wait.
To wait. God, how Heero hated waiting. Please, Duo, don't die...
Was no news good news, or bad news? How long had Heero sat in the
waiting room, alternatively staring at his coffee, the television,
and out the glass windows into the rapidly fading evening. How long?
Dimly, Heero could recall a nurse bringing him coffee, offering a
smile with the drink, and leaving. He had yet to take a sip of the
coffee, which was growing cold. Was Duo dead, and growing cold?
No. He wouldn't think that. Couldn't think that. Should he be praying?
To whatever God there was, whatever God that would listen to Heero's
words, tainted by the past and blood. That silent mantra: Please, Duo,
don't die. If only he'd... what? Gotten there sooner? Treated Duo
better? If Duo had known Relena was gone, if Heero had never left him,
hurt him, like that. If...
How long had it been? Surely Duo was okay by now. Surely they would
have pumped out all the poison, all those pills. How had Duo even
gotten that many pills? Zoloft; prescription anti-depressants. Duo
had said it was ironic. No, can't think that...
Stomach pump, what else? Heero's brain refused to function properly.
Anything to stop thinking of Duo's face, slicked with a sheen of
sweat, pale, lifeless... Please, Duo, don't die!
"Mr. Yuy?"
Heero head snapped towards the nurse's station, his eyes pleading with
the scrub-wearing young doctor standing there. Tell me it's going to
be okay, Heero pleaded silently. Smile, laugh, dance, anything but
stand there sadly, looking sympathetic.
"Mr. Yuy, would you like to see him?"
Somehow, Heero figured out how to breath again. "See... him?" he
repeated, dazed.
The young doctor nodded, looking grave. Instantly, Heero knew
something had to be wrong. The news was suppose to be good --
Congratulations, Mr. Yuy, your friend's gonna be okay! Not, not this.
Not this grim delivery and an offer of... of, what? A last goodbye?
Oh, God.
Not Duo, just not Duo. Please, not Duo.
The doctor lead Heero down the hall to a near-abandoned room lined
with beds and machines. Curtains separated the beds out into cells,
and as they passed Heero couldn't stop himself from staring at the
other occupants of the beds. Some were sitting upright, apprehensively
waiting for the doctors to relocate them elsewhere. One young girl
chatted happily with her weeping mother despite having one arm bent
at a very unnatural angle.
At the very end, before a bed with the curtains drawn half-closed,
the doctor stopped and turned to Heero with that same grave face.
Heero had the strongest urge to punch the man, just to stop him from
looking so... so... As if Duo was going to...
Please, Duo, don't die.
"I don't know how to tell you this, Mr. Yuy..." the young doctor said,
resting one hand consolingly on Heero's shoulder. Too stunned for
even a slight glare of response, Heero just stared, fascinated at the
way the doctor's eyebrows drew together over his nose. Was that a
freckle, or dried blood? "...might not make it."
"...hn?" Heero blinked, aware he hadn't been listening to whatever
the man had been saying.
"I'm very sorry. We did all we could. The rest is in God's hands."
Heero stared at the retreating doctor's back, rooted in place as if
frozen by the very words. We did all we could. Might not make it.
Woodenly, he turned his eyes to the bed, shuffling through the
curtains to stand beside one of the machines. Duo's braid stuck out
from beneath the starched white sheets, curling over the pillow to
flutter down towards the floor. Fascinated, Heero reached out and
carefully, reverently, picked up the chestnut length and placed it
back on to the bed. Slowly, he drew his eyes aware from the plait and
forced himself to look at the rest of Duo.
Tubes ran from the machines against the wall and into Duo's frail
body, including an IV and a blue plastic breathing tube. Were the
machines the only thing keeping Duo alive? No, he wouldn't think of
that... Not that. Heero's eyes finally rested on the heart monitor,
as if staring at the weak green line would keep it going.
Beep. Beep.
Please, Duo, don't die.
"Heero!"
He turned just in time to catch a small, sobbing bundle that latched
around his waist and wept into his shirt. Trowa stopped in the gap
between the curtains, silently gazing at Duo with heavy eyes. Those
emerald hues shifted over to rest of Heero's bewildered gaze,
offering quiet companionship. Drawing his hands from his pockets,
Trowa eased the weeping Quatre off of Heero and smoothed down the
Arabian's blond hair, softly whispering 'shhh.'
"We came just as soon as you called," Quatre managed, calming under
Trowa's gentle touch. "How is he?"
Called? Heero frowned slightly, trying to think past the dazed blur.
Yes, he could recall something involving a phone call to Quatre,
earlier. How long ago? Time was lost to him. Quatre scrubbed tears
from his face and took the frown to be Heero's answer. "Not good,
huh? Well... well, at least you were there..."
"Let's get you some coffee," Trowa said quietly, reaching around
Quatre to take hold of Heero's hand, leading him away from Duo's bed.
Heero, not wanting to explain he didn't want or need coffee, let
himself be steered back towards the waiting room.
------------------------------------------------------------ ----------
"Heero?" Quatre offered a slight smile, seeing those intense cobalt
eyes shift away from staring at Duo. "Trowa and I are leaving now.
Are you going to be okay here?"
"Hn."
"The doctors say if...when," Quatre swallowed tears, trying to smile
bravely for Heero's sake, "Duo makes it through the night. That's the
hard part. They'll know in the morning what... if..."
Trowa sighed, gently coaxing Quatre into silence. "Get some sleep,
Heero," the taller boy said quietly before leaving.
Besides a low moan from one of the other beds or a stray shuffle of a
nurse, the hospital was silent but for the steady rhythm of machines.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Heero found himself staring at the thin green line,
silently urging it to keep going, to keep... Beep. Beep.
The doctors had said the same thing as Quatre, but with more sympathy
and less sincerity. The night was the ultimate test of Duo's ability
to survive. Of the pills' ability to kill. Duo had to survive the
night. Heero leaned forward in his chair, locking eyes on the heart
monitor with the same silent plea. Beep. Beep.
If... When Duo recovered, what would happen? Could Duo find purpose in
life with the knowledge that Heero...
Jamming fingers through the tangled snarl of his hair, Heero forced
his thoughts away from such dangerous ideas. The past was the pats,
and Duo just couldn't accept that. There could be no future between
them, because the past was just the past and nothing more than...
"Please, Duo, don't die," Heero whispered hoarsely, standing and
approaching the hospital bed. "I'm sorry I ever hurt you..." he
sighed, reaching out to gently brush a stray chestnut lock off from
Duo's pale face. "I never meant to hurt you."
"Don't die. Not now. Not when..."
Everything faded away with realization, and Heero froze, his hand
still lightly caressing Duo's cheek. "You can't die, Duo, because..."
"Because I love you," he breathed in a voice scarcely louder than a
whisper. "I love you," he repeated it, louder, hoping against hope
that the words would summon Duo into consciousness, back into life.
"I... I still love you. I never stopped loving you."
Dimly, Heero felt one lone tear trace down his cheek, waver, and then
fall lightly onto his hand, which still hovered over Duo's pale,
peaceful face. "I never will stop loving you. Just... please, Duo,
don't die! You can't die..."
"You can't die," Heero whispered into the silence, suddenly aware...
A horrified glance rose up to stare at the heart monitor just as the
long, ominous tone sounded out. "...No!" Heero stared at the flat
green line, as if he could make it start moving again by glaring.
Voices shouted from down the hall and doctors and nurses flocked, one
trying to ease Heero away from the bed. A doctor shouted, "Clear!" as
he lowered the paddles down towards Duo's still chest.
"No!" Heero tried to resist the nurse, but she was skillfully pushing
him out of the doctor's way, murmuring nonsense reassurances. "He
can't die, not when I love him! Duo!"
"Clear!"
"Duo!"
"Please, sir, you have to let the doctors..."
"DUO!"
-------------------------------------- --------------------------------
"...nothing we could do."
"...so young..."
Heero ignored them all, trying to block out the hospital staff's quiet
offers of sympathy and concern, trying to block out Quatre's quiet
weeping into the curve of Trowa's shoulder. Over and over the final
moments played in his mind; the waiting room, his pacing, not being
able to be with Duo as... as he... The news coming softly, delivered
by the doctor who failed to restart Duo's heart.
The numb rage, Heero's initial reaction wanting to blame the doctor,
fading with the stunning realization Duo was gone. Knowing he was to
blame, knowing Duo died for Heero's stupid mistake. And now Duo was
gone: time of death three minutes past midnight. Just another
statistic on the hospital's record, just another blurb in the
newspaper.
And Heero had been too late to save him. His fault. For his stubborn
denial of loving Duo.
"...sleep," someone was saying softly, a gentle hand resting on
Heero's shoulder.
Lifting his head, Heero stared as colors shifted, stilled and formed
Trowa's concerned face, watching him with a somber look. Quatre, his
tears stopped for the moment, was on Heero's other side, "I'll call
you a cab. Go home, Heero... sleep, rest. Cry, if you have to. It
will be okay..."
"No," Heero stood, his voice raw with the effort of keeping some
composure, "it won't be okay." It'll never be okay, he wanted to say,
because I killed Duo with my mistake. It's my fault he's gone. That I
couldn't save him. I didn't see... I never told him.
"Heero..." the small blond said, standing as well.
"Forget it," Heero muttered, running his hand through his hair.
"Yeah, sleep."
Quatre suddenly frowned in concern, wondering if there was something
he was missing out on. True, Duo and Heero had been close in the war;
true, he had known that there may have been more to their relationship
than friendship... "Would you like to stay with Trowa and I tonight?
Our place is closer than your apartment..."
Unspoken, was Quatre's worry that maybe Heero shouldn't be alone.
Heero shook his head, "No... I'll call you in the morning."
Troubled aqua eyes searched Heero's face for a long moment before
Quatre nodded softly, "Yeah. Okay. Take care, Heero."
The drive back to his apartment took just six minutes, thirty-seven
seconds (Heero counted. It seemed important) but seemed forever. The
city around him, usually still vibrant and lively even in the first
few hours of morning, was dark and... dead. Dead, just like Duo, and
Heero couldn't stop thinking: I killed him.
The silence and the darkness extended into his apartment building,
the elevator, and then his apartment. How many hours ago had he
walked in here to find that damn red light blinking, heralding the
beginning of Duo's end... how long ago? A lifetime ago. Heero went
through the motions of hanging his jacket up and setting his keys on
the kitchen counter before stopping to stare at the empty apartment.
His eyes rested on the broken answering machine, slumped in the
corner with the cover half off. Slowly, Heero walked over and picked
up the battered device, turning it over in his hands. He carried it
back over to the coffee table and set it down, trying to get the
plastic cover to fit back over the busted wires and loose screws.
It gave him an annoyed beep, and then...
"...Heero? Oh. Hey, guess you aren't home. God, I feel so stupid..."
He sat back, staring at the machine as it ran through the entire
message without flaw, Duo's digital voice carrying the same heavy
sadness as before. And then, only silence, as the message stopped
playing and the answering machine gave one final desperate beep
before breaking down entirely, a small tendril of smoke rising out
from between the plastic keys.
Heero buried his head into his hands, a loud sob breaking free as his
control suddenly broke. "Duo..." he cried, "I love you..."
-
-
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Au thor's Notes: All I'm going to say is that this isn't the end.
There will be more chapters to this story, I promise.
On a more personal note, my birthday is this Friday (May 9th)
And today, I went back to see the doctor. He took blood for some more
tests and switched my medications. Hopefully I'll get better... x_x
Feed the muses yummy comments so they'll let me keep working!
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated!
copyright 2003 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.
Email me to join my Update ML!
LSE - Violet Nyte (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)
shameless plug - visit my website
http://violetnyte.fallenweb.net
(Last Chance - Tears in the Dark)
rated: PG13 - language, content
shounen-ai/yaoi
Tears in the Dark
-
Heero stared into the dark depths of his coffee, the hospital around
him nothing but a distant blur. The sounds of nurses and machines
faded out in favor of his own silent mantra. Please, Duo, don't die...
Don't die. Carefully rolling the coffee cup in his hands, Heero tore
his eyes away from the dark liquid to stare blankly at the muted
television bolted into the ceiling.
Anything to stop thinking about that final vision that kept fluttering
in his mind; Duo, pale and limp, being loaded on to the stretcher and
wheeled out among yelling hoards of nurses and doctors. The emergency
room's double doors swinging shut, a young nurse trying to hold Heero
back, explaining he had to wait.
To wait. God, how Heero hated waiting. Please, Duo, don't die...
Was no news good news, or bad news? How long had Heero sat in the
waiting room, alternatively staring at his coffee, the television,
and out the glass windows into the rapidly fading evening. How long?
Dimly, Heero could recall a nurse bringing him coffee, offering a
smile with the drink, and leaving. He had yet to take a sip of the
coffee, which was growing cold. Was Duo dead, and growing cold?
No. He wouldn't think that. Couldn't think that. Should he be praying?
To whatever God there was, whatever God that would listen to Heero's
words, tainted by the past and blood. That silent mantra: Please, Duo,
don't die. If only he'd... what? Gotten there sooner? Treated Duo
better? If Duo had known Relena was gone, if Heero had never left him,
hurt him, like that. If...
How long had it been? Surely Duo was okay by now. Surely they would
have pumped out all the poison, all those pills. How had Duo even
gotten that many pills? Zoloft; prescription anti-depressants. Duo
had said it was ironic. No, can't think that...
Stomach pump, what else? Heero's brain refused to function properly.
Anything to stop thinking of Duo's face, slicked with a sheen of
sweat, pale, lifeless... Please, Duo, don't die!
"Mr. Yuy?"
Heero head snapped towards the nurse's station, his eyes pleading with
the scrub-wearing young doctor standing there. Tell me it's going to
be okay, Heero pleaded silently. Smile, laugh, dance, anything but
stand there sadly, looking sympathetic.
"Mr. Yuy, would you like to see him?"
Somehow, Heero figured out how to breath again. "See... him?" he
repeated, dazed.
The young doctor nodded, looking grave. Instantly, Heero knew
something had to be wrong. The news was suppose to be good --
Congratulations, Mr. Yuy, your friend's gonna be okay! Not, not this.
Not this grim delivery and an offer of... of, what? A last goodbye?
Oh, God.
Not Duo, just not Duo. Please, not Duo.
The doctor lead Heero down the hall to a near-abandoned room lined
with beds and machines. Curtains separated the beds out into cells,
and as they passed Heero couldn't stop himself from staring at the
other occupants of the beds. Some were sitting upright, apprehensively
waiting for the doctors to relocate them elsewhere. One young girl
chatted happily with her weeping mother despite having one arm bent
at a very unnatural angle.
At the very end, before a bed with the curtains drawn half-closed,
the doctor stopped and turned to Heero with that same grave face.
Heero had the strongest urge to punch the man, just to stop him from
looking so... so... As if Duo was going to...
Please, Duo, don't die.
"I don't know how to tell you this, Mr. Yuy..." the young doctor said,
resting one hand consolingly on Heero's shoulder. Too stunned for
even a slight glare of response, Heero just stared, fascinated at the
way the doctor's eyebrows drew together over his nose. Was that a
freckle, or dried blood? "...might not make it."
"...hn?" Heero blinked, aware he hadn't been listening to whatever
the man had been saying.
"I'm very sorry. We did all we could. The rest is in God's hands."
Heero stared at the retreating doctor's back, rooted in place as if
frozen by the very words. We did all we could. Might not make it.
Woodenly, he turned his eyes to the bed, shuffling through the
curtains to stand beside one of the machines. Duo's braid stuck out
from beneath the starched white sheets, curling over the pillow to
flutter down towards the floor. Fascinated, Heero reached out and
carefully, reverently, picked up the chestnut length and placed it
back on to the bed. Slowly, he drew his eyes aware from the plait and
forced himself to look at the rest of Duo.
Tubes ran from the machines against the wall and into Duo's frail
body, including an IV and a blue plastic breathing tube. Were the
machines the only thing keeping Duo alive? No, he wouldn't think of
that... Not that. Heero's eyes finally rested on the heart monitor,
as if staring at the weak green line would keep it going.
Beep. Beep.
Please, Duo, don't die.
"Heero!"
He turned just in time to catch a small, sobbing bundle that latched
around his waist and wept into his shirt. Trowa stopped in the gap
between the curtains, silently gazing at Duo with heavy eyes. Those
emerald hues shifted over to rest of Heero's bewildered gaze,
offering quiet companionship. Drawing his hands from his pockets,
Trowa eased the weeping Quatre off of Heero and smoothed down the
Arabian's blond hair, softly whispering 'shhh.'
"We came just as soon as you called," Quatre managed, calming under
Trowa's gentle touch. "How is he?"
Called? Heero frowned slightly, trying to think past the dazed blur.
Yes, he could recall something involving a phone call to Quatre,
earlier. How long ago? Time was lost to him. Quatre scrubbed tears
from his face and took the frown to be Heero's answer. "Not good,
huh? Well... well, at least you were there..."
"Let's get you some coffee," Trowa said quietly, reaching around
Quatre to take hold of Heero's hand, leading him away from Duo's bed.
Heero, not wanting to explain he didn't want or need coffee, let
himself be steered back towards the waiting room.
------------------------------------------------------------ ----------
"Heero?" Quatre offered a slight smile, seeing those intense cobalt
eyes shift away from staring at Duo. "Trowa and I are leaving now.
Are you going to be okay here?"
"Hn."
"The doctors say if...when," Quatre swallowed tears, trying to smile
bravely for Heero's sake, "Duo makes it through the night. That's the
hard part. They'll know in the morning what... if..."
Trowa sighed, gently coaxing Quatre into silence. "Get some sleep,
Heero," the taller boy said quietly before leaving.
Besides a low moan from one of the other beds or a stray shuffle of a
nurse, the hospital was silent but for the steady rhythm of machines.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Heero found himself staring at the thin green line,
silently urging it to keep going, to keep... Beep. Beep.
The doctors had said the same thing as Quatre, but with more sympathy
and less sincerity. The night was the ultimate test of Duo's ability
to survive. Of the pills' ability to kill. Duo had to survive the
night. Heero leaned forward in his chair, locking eyes on the heart
monitor with the same silent plea. Beep. Beep.
If... When Duo recovered, what would happen? Could Duo find purpose in
life with the knowledge that Heero...
Jamming fingers through the tangled snarl of his hair, Heero forced
his thoughts away from such dangerous ideas. The past was the pats,
and Duo just couldn't accept that. There could be no future between
them, because the past was just the past and nothing more than...
"Please, Duo, don't die," Heero whispered hoarsely, standing and
approaching the hospital bed. "I'm sorry I ever hurt you..." he
sighed, reaching out to gently brush a stray chestnut lock off from
Duo's pale face. "I never meant to hurt you."
"Don't die. Not now. Not when..."
Everything faded away with realization, and Heero froze, his hand
still lightly caressing Duo's cheek. "You can't die, Duo, because..."
"Because I love you," he breathed in a voice scarcely louder than a
whisper. "I love you," he repeated it, louder, hoping against hope
that the words would summon Duo into consciousness, back into life.
"I... I still love you. I never stopped loving you."
Dimly, Heero felt one lone tear trace down his cheek, waver, and then
fall lightly onto his hand, which still hovered over Duo's pale,
peaceful face. "I never will stop loving you. Just... please, Duo,
don't die! You can't die..."
"You can't die," Heero whispered into the silence, suddenly aware...
A horrified glance rose up to stare at the heart monitor just as the
long, ominous tone sounded out. "...No!" Heero stared at the flat
green line, as if he could make it start moving again by glaring.
Voices shouted from down the hall and doctors and nurses flocked, one
trying to ease Heero away from the bed. A doctor shouted, "Clear!" as
he lowered the paddles down towards Duo's still chest.
"No!" Heero tried to resist the nurse, but she was skillfully pushing
him out of the doctor's way, murmuring nonsense reassurances. "He
can't die, not when I love him! Duo!"
"Clear!"
"Duo!"
"Please, sir, you have to let the doctors..."
"DUO!"
-------------------------------------- --------------------------------
"...nothing we could do."
"...so young..."
Heero ignored them all, trying to block out the hospital staff's quiet
offers of sympathy and concern, trying to block out Quatre's quiet
weeping into the curve of Trowa's shoulder. Over and over the final
moments played in his mind; the waiting room, his pacing, not being
able to be with Duo as... as he... The news coming softly, delivered
by the doctor who failed to restart Duo's heart.
The numb rage, Heero's initial reaction wanting to blame the doctor,
fading with the stunning realization Duo was gone. Knowing he was to
blame, knowing Duo died for Heero's stupid mistake. And now Duo was
gone: time of death three minutes past midnight. Just another
statistic on the hospital's record, just another blurb in the
newspaper.
And Heero had been too late to save him. His fault. For his stubborn
denial of loving Duo.
"...sleep," someone was saying softly, a gentle hand resting on
Heero's shoulder.
Lifting his head, Heero stared as colors shifted, stilled and formed
Trowa's concerned face, watching him with a somber look. Quatre, his
tears stopped for the moment, was on Heero's other side, "I'll call
you a cab. Go home, Heero... sleep, rest. Cry, if you have to. It
will be okay..."
"No," Heero stood, his voice raw with the effort of keeping some
composure, "it won't be okay." It'll never be okay, he wanted to say,
because I killed Duo with my mistake. It's my fault he's gone. That I
couldn't save him. I didn't see... I never told him.
"Heero..." the small blond said, standing as well.
"Forget it," Heero muttered, running his hand through his hair.
"Yeah, sleep."
Quatre suddenly frowned in concern, wondering if there was something
he was missing out on. True, Duo and Heero had been close in the war;
true, he had known that there may have been more to their relationship
than friendship... "Would you like to stay with Trowa and I tonight?
Our place is closer than your apartment..."
Unspoken, was Quatre's worry that maybe Heero shouldn't be alone.
Heero shook his head, "No... I'll call you in the morning."
Troubled aqua eyes searched Heero's face for a long moment before
Quatre nodded softly, "Yeah. Okay. Take care, Heero."
The drive back to his apartment took just six minutes, thirty-seven
seconds (Heero counted. It seemed important) but seemed forever. The
city around him, usually still vibrant and lively even in the first
few hours of morning, was dark and... dead. Dead, just like Duo, and
Heero couldn't stop thinking: I killed him.
The silence and the darkness extended into his apartment building,
the elevator, and then his apartment. How many hours ago had he
walked in here to find that damn red light blinking, heralding the
beginning of Duo's end... how long ago? A lifetime ago. Heero went
through the motions of hanging his jacket up and setting his keys on
the kitchen counter before stopping to stare at the empty apartment.
His eyes rested on the broken answering machine, slumped in the
corner with the cover half off. Slowly, Heero walked over and picked
up the battered device, turning it over in his hands. He carried it
back over to the coffee table and set it down, trying to get the
plastic cover to fit back over the busted wires and loose screws.
It gave him an annoyed beep, and then...
"...Heero? Oh. Hey, guess you aren't home. God, I feel so stupid..."
He sat back, staring at the machine as it ran through the entire
message without flaw, Duo's digital voice carrying the same heavy
sadness as before. And then, only silence, as the message stopped
playing and the answering machine gave one final desperate beep
before breaking down entirely, a small tendril of smoke rising out
from between the plastic keys.
Heero buried his head into his hands, a loud sob breaking free as his
control suddenly broke. "Duo..." he cried, "I love you..."
-
-
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Au thor's Notes: All I'm going to say is that this isn't the end.
There will be more chapters to this story, I promise.
On a more personal note, my birthday is this Friday (May 9th)
And today, I went back to see the doctor. He took blood for some more
tests and switched my medications. Hopefully I'll get better... x_x
Feed the muses yummy comments so they'll let me keep working!
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated!
copyright 2003 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.
Email me to join my Update ML!
LSE - Violet Nyte (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)
shameless plug - visit my website
http://violetnyte.fallenweb.net