Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Ma Petite Mort ❯ Chapter 8

Ma Petite Mort / Naomi - part 8

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Sleep would not come to him. His burdened soul refused to rest, tormented by lives lost and a friendship that seemed impossible to regain. After Duo went to bed Heero threw himself on the couch and turned on the television with minimal volume.

That didn't help. Duo didn't have cable and the only channels available were L2's local stations, all of which featured second-rate television programs or newscasts that spoke about the Interstellar Flight Tragedy. His release from Preventer custody was on every headline.

Irritated by the false accusations the media was making against him, Heero changed the channel to a mindless game show. If nothing else, the idiotic trivia questions would keep his mind busy with simpler issues.

His eyes were glued to the screen well into the wee hours of the night, watching one game show after another, action movies and idiotic sitcoms. Never in his life did he watch so much television. It really didn't have much to offer. With a sigh he flipped to the only channel that broadcasted into the night - porn. He stared numbly at the erotic feature, unmoved by what he saw. He needed a drink.

The craving was nearly unbearable. His tongue ached to be burnt by sour liquor. While occupied, his mind was distracted from the excruciating want. He had no time for it on the shuttle, as well as in Preventer HQ. Now he wanted it. He wanted it bad. Just one drink, he told himself, so he could get the irksome feeling out of his system.

He wondered what Duo would have to say if he knew. Pathetic, is what he will call him. Not that it mattered. He just wanted a sip. Just one sip to ease his mind towards slumber. Otherwise, he knew that it would never come.

As he had expected, Heero did not fall asleep before dawn. Exhaustion took him while he was still propped in a sitting position, the remote lying limply in his hand. For the first time in days his sleep was a dreamless one, devoid of aspiration.

A strong scent of caffeine was what greeted him when he awoke. Inside his cloudy mind he wondered where he was and what he will see when he'll open his eyes. But before he could fully open them, he felt his eyelids dance involuntary up and down in jerky, twitching movements. He forced them open quickly, heart racing. He blinked a few times and shook his head to get his vision straight.

The television was the first thing he saw, featuring a morning talk show. Two hosts smiled widely at the viewers, far too cheerful for an early morning hour. What could possibly make them so happy so early in the morning?!

He heaved a long, tired sigh and turned away from the screen. Duo was standing between the living room and the kitchen, fully dressed in Class A OCSR uniforms; a dark blue military dress suit that hugged his masculine body. He was holding a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other, reading as he sipped the beverage. His wet hair was gathered into a tight, tidy braid, filling the air with a pleasant scent of shampoo.

Duo's image was in such a sharp contrast to him, Heero mused. He was sitting slumped on the sofa, dressed sloppily; his hair a ruffled mess, while Duo wore neatly pressed uniforms. It was almost as if the roles were reversed. Who would have thought?

The braided young man must have noticed that he was being looked at for he lifted his gaze towards Heero. His violet eyes met Heero's in a calculated gaze, appearing to assess the situation. Had Duo expected him to leave by now?

“Good morning.” Heero finally decided to say, but made no move to rise from the sofa.

“Morning.” Duo grumbled back and finished his coffee with a gulp. He turned to put the mug on the table, which stood between the living room and kitchen, thus turning his back to Heero.

“Are you leaving for work?” Heero asked the obvious, just to get things going. He was desperate to find a way to reach Duo, to really talk to him.

“Yeah. I gotta few papers I have to hand in.” Duo replied in a disinterested tone, like he couldn't be bothered to speak. He strode past the sofa and to the door, not sparing Heero even a small glance.

“You can stay, leave, whatever,” he grabbed his keys, “I'll be back tonight.”

Without giving him a chance to reply Duo walked out the door. Heero slumped back into the couch and threw an arm over his eyes.

“I need a drink...” He muttered into thin air, his craving for the bitter drop stronger than ever before. He hadn't expected things to be so complicated!

Did Duo want him to stay, or did he expect him to leave? How long would he be giving him the cold shoulder? There had to be something he could do to make up for being such a jerk. Much like Duo was acting now. Had he really been so cold towards him? It couldn't have been that bad. Otherwise, Duo would have given up long ago... right?

But he had given up, Heero reminded himself. Perhaps Duo didn't even want to see him again. Like he had said the night before, he was just being nice by giving him shelter for one night. Should he leave then? Was that what Duo wanted? Was a second chance too much to ask for?

No. It shouldn't be. Everyone deserved a second chance. Even he.

He will get through to Duo. Failure was not an option. His life depended on it. There was no other place for him to be. No one else he wanted to be with. He needed Duo. And he needed a chance to prove that.

But first... a drink. He really needed a drink.

After rummaging through the kitchen he found nothing but a six-pack of beer in the fridge. Beer was not good enough; to him it was like drinking water. He missed the expensive brandy Adele used to store next to her beanbag.

So he walked out to the street, regardless of his sloppy appearance, and marched into the nearest convenience store. With a single twenty-dollar bill he could only afford a cheap E&J Brandy bottle. It was American, but it had to do. He snatched the bottle off the cashier counter and hurried out of the store, away from the people who kept staring at him. He wasn't some drunk! He just wanted a drink. Just one drink. That's all. He had lasted 72 hours without a drink and he was fine! He could quit if he wanted to. One shot of liquor wouldn't ruin that.

He placed the bottle on Duo's kitchen table and went to search for a glass. Adele had a specific type of glass for each brand of liquor. Duo didn't even own a beer mug. He had to settle for a regular water glass.

Lifting the glass to his face Heero looked at it sourly. He inhaled the sweet/acrid smell, letting it burn his nostrils. Just one drink, he promised, just one.

“J'ai bien l'impression d'avoir perdu.” (= It looks like I lose) He sighed desolately, knowing that Adele, wherever she was, would smirk at his words. He now owed her an expensive brandy bottle, for losing the bet.

“Pour les miserables.” (= For the miserable) He toasted, smiling sarcastically, and emptied the glass with a gulp.

A minute passed but there was no affect other than the soft tingling in the back of his throat.

Just one more, he promised himself and filled the glass again. Just one more and then he'll start thinking about what to do next. He needed to find a way to get through to Duo. Drinking was not the solution, he knew that well, but it would get things going, the way it had done for him in the past.

 

Duo returned home late that evening, stumbling tiredly through the door. Heero, who was sitting by the kitchen table, looked up. When their eyes met he smiled softly, noting the surprise in Duo's eyes. He probably expected him to be gone by now. He surely hadn't expected to see dinner waiting for him on the table.

“You made dinner.” Duo stated, rather coldly.

“Yes.” Heero nodded and the braided teen's features hardened angrily.

“So what's next? Flowers and a box of chocolates?” He muttered sarcastically and dropped his keys by the door.

With a heavy sigh Heero stood up and placed the two plates in the microwave. From the corner of his eye he could see Duo loosen his tie. He seemed exhausted, much like he did after a battle during the war. Duo's shoulders were tense, though, despite his obvious exhaustion, a clear sign that something was bothering him.

The microwave beeped. Heero served the plates to the table and sat down without a word. He could feel Duo eyeing him suspiciously until finally he walked to the kitchen. Sighing, Duo shed his military jacket and sat down as well.

They ate in silence as Duo's resentment hovered solidly in the air. Minutes passed and no words were exchanged. The ice wasn't melting, but getting frostier, separating them. Duo used to speak about anything and everything during dinner. Eating in silence, while Duo sat across of him, was unnerving.

He looked up at Duo, a hesitant shine in his blue eyes. Duo's head was bowed as he ate so he won't have to look at him. Each of his movements was sharp, angry, making it clear that he wished to finish his meal as quickly as possible.

Heero sighed. He will not let that happen.

“Do you remember,” he began and Duo looked up, raising his eyes from his plate to glare silently at Heero.

“You once told me about a cook you knew at the Sweepers' ship.” Heero continued and Duo frowned in confusion. He now had his attention.

“You told me that all he ever made for dinner was boiled eggs.”

Duo's brows narrowed with wariness. “What?!”

Heero smiled softly. “You hate boiled eggs because their smell makes you nauseous,” he explained, as if Duo didn't already know, “so you never ate dinner and when the cook found out he offered to make an omelet especially for you. He didn't have a small pan so he used to fry it on a lid and it always made you laugh.”

Heero finished the story and Duo gaped, dumbfound, holding his fork in mid-air.

“I might have ignored you, Duo, but I've always listened.” Heero explained softly, his eyes shining with warm light.

“Jesus, Heero.” Duo muttered and stabbed his food with the fork. He resumed eating, although slower, as if confused.

“You used to speak a lot during dinner,” Heero continued, knowing that he would be ignored, “It's odd sitting here and not hearing your voice.”

“Heero, are you drunk?” Duo suddenly asked, looking at him sharply.

“What?” he gasped, caught completely off guard, “Of course not!”

Duo rolled his eyes. “You are, aren't ya?” he muttered and shook his head admonishingly, “No wonder you can't shut-up...”

Stunned, Heero watched Duo get up and clear his plate off the table. His blue eyes were wide with shock. He hadn't expected Duo to notice.

“I am not drunk.” He repeated and for the first time he could smell the reek of alcohol floating from his mouth.

Standing by the sink, Duo snorted and threw the leftovers from his plate. “That's fucking pathetic, Heero.” He stated grimly and began washing his plate. Heero bowed his head in shame, having nothing to say in his defense. He had tried, and failed. Again.

“If I had a drink for each time you made me miserable, I would have died from liver intoxication at the age of sixteen!”

Heero looked up, blue eyes anguished. “I made you miserable?”

Duo's shoulders tensed as he apparently realized the meaning of his words. He shook his head and scrubbed the plate forcefully.

“Sometimes.” he confessed, speaking into the sink, “...every single day.”

Duo's back was turned at him and Heero wished, now more than ever, that he would look into his eyes.

“I'm sorry.” He confessed honestly, hoping that Duo could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“I don't need your apology, Heero,” the braided youth replied rudely, picking up another plate to scrub, “I'm doing just fine, thank you very much.”

For a few long moments Heero watched him scrub the dishes, hard, angry, confused. Hurt?

“At least I ain't no damn drunk.” Duo finally spat, accusingly. Heero's eyes narrowed angrily.

“I am not a drunk.” He growled, fists clenched.

“So you just happen to be stinkin' like one.” Duo retorted, raising his voice over the gush of water from the sink. “You make me sick.”

“It's my life,” Heero replied calmly, “I'll do whatever I chose with it.”

“Oh, like drinking yourself to death!? You call that living?!”

“Is wearing uniforms and following orders called living?”

That did it. Duo whirled around with a glare, his braid swinging in the air.

“At least I tried to build myself a life! What do you have to show for yourself?! A bunch of empty bottles?!”

“At least I am not the one who is still trying to save the world.” Heero countered poisonously, “I live my life the way I want it. I'm taking my time. There's nothing wrong with that.”

Duo seemed speechless at his words. He stood by the sink and gaped, both hurt and anger quarreling in his eyes. It seemed that Heero's words had hit home. He felt sorry for saying them. It was not his place to judge. It was not what he came there to do.

“Thanks for dinner.” Duo finally spat and threw the towel he was holding to the floor. He stalked out of the kitchen and Heero flinched when the bedroom's door slammed shut, locking Duo away. Again.

He sighed and turned back to the table, left to finish dinner on his own.

 

Lonely hours crept inch-by-inch, minute-by-minute. Time stretched into a vast, endless moment. A painful reality. He felt as though he was miles away from Duo, stranded in a different dimension. Out of reach. He was so close yet so far, the distance growing with each word that came out of his mouth. Everything came out wrong. Dinner was supposed to break the ice. It was supposed to ease things up a bit. His only intention was to do something nice for Duo, to show his gratitude and then perhaps Duo would warm up to him. Nothing worked out the way he wanted it to. It was nothing new, though, Heero was used to it.

The clock ticked past midnight and sleep still would not come. He lay on the sofa and stared at the bottle of brandy, which stood on the coffee table. It was half-empty, or half-full - he wasn't sure which one. It was making hollow promises of sleep, promising peace if only he'll take a few sinful sips.

Duo had accused him of being a drunk. Adele had done the same not so long ago, but her words did not hurt him the way Duo's did. She annoyed him, nothing more. Duo made him feel ashamed.

He was not an alcoholic. Not yet. He'll give up the bottle. It was careless of him to buy it in the first place. Duo was right. He couldn't pour liquor down his throat each time he couldn't handle his feelings.

Being miserable... at least that was something. He finally understood what Adele had meant when she spoke those words. He could not deny or escape his feelings. If he was to be miserable, he had to feel it, to accept it. That was the only way things would ever change, for better or worse. Without his misery, he would have nothing left. He would be as good as dead. The alcohol would kill him, numb him, and he would end up no better than Adele. She was only alive when she remembered her misery, as fleeting as those moments were before she drowned herself in either booze or sex.

No. He will not end up like her. That was why he had left Adele in the first place. Facing Duo's anger and resentment had weakened his resolve. It almost made him forget what he came there to do. If misery was what he had to deal with first, then he will. No more booze. For real this time.

Miserable as he was, he longed for human contact. Better sins of the flesh than the sinful ignorance of liquor. Lying on the sofa, Heero wrapped his arms around himself in search for human warmth. Even if it was just his own, it would have to do.

His palms were sweaty and his eyelids twitched again. Classic withdrawal symptoms . He knew that the worse was still ahead. Two months of constant drinking would take their toll on him. A few sips would fix all that... save him the agony and... no. No. He mustn't.

Forcing every last shred of self-control he continued to lie still, glaring at the bottle while trying to ignore it. He always had confidence in his will power. If he could will himself to feel no pain during torture, no fear while risking his life, he could deny his yearning for liquor. All he needed was a good reason. And while his reason was currently hidden behind closed doors, he was still there. And it was all he needed to know.

Hours passed, slowly, agonizingly. His head hurt so much he could not sleep. He lay restless on the sofa, hugging himself, anxious to face the next day. Anything but lying still, helpless, lost, confused, and thirsty... so terribly thirsty...

A door creaked open, the sound tearing through the silence of the night. Heero turned a pair of tired, red-rimmed eyes towards the hallway. Despite the pitch-black darkness, he could see the outline of a silhouette standing in the doorway. He could feel Duo's eyes on him, trying to assess if he was asleep or awake. He lay still, giving no sign of alertness, and waited to see what Duo was up to.

He heard him sigh and then walk quietly to the kitchen. A light flickered on, white spots dancing behind his closed eyelids. The sound of the refrigerator door opening was followed by a soft clatter.

“Milk or beer?” Duo asked and Heero's eyes flew open. He could never fool Duo, then why did he even bother?

“Be--milk.” He said tiredly and sat up.

“Good choice.” Duo muttered and pulled out a carton. He slammed the fridge shut and turned to the cupboard. “Can't sleep?” He asked while pulling out a pair of glasses.

“No.” Heero sighed, although the answer was obvious. He didn't mind, as long as Duo was speaking to him.

“Yeah, me too.” The braided teen agreed and walked towards the couch. He was carrying two glasses of milk and a bag of tortilla chips - barbeque flavored. He threw himself on the sofa, next to Heero, and handed him his milk.

“Milk and tortillas?” Heero questioned, frowning.

“Hey man, they go with anything!” Duo proclaimed and ripped the bag open.

Heero watched him throw a chip into his mouth, and smiled. He helped himself to some chips as well. He couldn't help but smirk when he saw the stunned expression on Duo's face.

“I gather you're through with that stupid diet.” He said and picked up his glass of milk.

“Yeah.” Heero muffled between bites and threw another chip into his mouth.

Duo nodded approvingly. “That's good ta know.”

For a while, they sat in silence, sipping milk and munching on tortillas. Heero knew that it was the perfect time for him to start talking, but nothing came up. A few hours ago Duo wouldn't even look at him and now they were sitting side by side, eating a snack! Was he dreaming, or was the brandy still flowing in his veins? Going `cold turkey' can bring severe withdrawal symptoms like hallucinations, but he wasn't that far gone yet... was he?

“I thought `bout what you said,” Duo spoke, his gaze on the milk instead on Heero, “about my job.”

“I didn't mean to pass judgment.”

“S'okay,” Duo cut in, “yer right. I'm no better than you.”

Duo finally turned to face him and Heero's heart skipped a beat. There was no anger in his eyes. None of the accusation that had been there before. Duo was looking at him, really looking at him. Past the anger, past the hurt.

“We need to make one thing clear first,” Duo continued quietly, almost tentative but yet, at the same time, poised.

“I refuse to be ignored by you any longer.” he said, looking deep into Heero's eyes, “I dun ever wanna to feel like I did back then.”

“I won't ignore you again, Duo.” Heero assured him, “That's a promise.”

“This doesn't mean I forgive you.”

“I know,” Heero whispered, “This is a second chance.”

“Yeah. So dun go n' screw it up. I ain't gonna chase after you like I did before.”

Heero nodded in understanding. “I accept that.”

Duo sighed, heavily, and leaned his head back against he sofa. For a few long moments he stared at the ceiling, deep in thought.

“I'm not gay or anything,” he added as an after thought, “I fuck girls. Ya know that, right?”

Although his breath faltered, Heero answered with a leveled voice. “You made sure that I would.”

Duo snorted, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling. “Is that what you think I did back then?”

“What else were you trying to prove?”

This time Duo hesitated. He closed his eyes as his head sunk deeper into the sofa's backrest.

“I dunno...” he confessed tiredly, resignedly, “...something. Anything. Just to get a reaction outta ya.”

“Well, you did.” Heero admitted, watching Duo's face intently. Every little line on his handsome features was taken into memory, analyzed in hope for some sort of confirmation that he felt the same.

His head still leaning back against the sofa, Duo opened his eyes. Encouraged, Heero continued speaking. He was finally getting through.

“You said that I'm too late,” he whispered ever so carefully, weighing every word before it left his lips, “But by saying that you also tell me you were interested in me. Why do you deny it now?”

His eyes shone sorrowfully in the dark, watching Duo fearfully as he waited for an answer. An answer that would determine the rest of his life, if not his emotional death. A fitting way to die, he mused cynically, rejected by `death' himself.

Slowly, Duo lifted his head from the sofa and turned to face him. Their eyes met, gazes mingling in an effort to understand one another. To see past the struggles raging in their eyes. Past all of the things that had been left unsaid, undone, for so long.

“Are you interested?” Duo asked slowly, as if treading on thin ice.

“Yes.” Heero replied without hesitation, knowing the answer deep in his heart. He could feel it like it was something solid, something that unknowingly occupied his heart ever since Duo's first attempts towards friendship. The feeling had been nameless before but it was starting to take recognizable shape. The shape of his heart.

Duo looked away, casting his gaze to the floor. Heero waited patiently for him to recover, to think things over again. The silence returned, engulfing him with the unknown. The palms of his hands were sweating again and he wiped them anxiously on his trousers.

“I never kissed a guy before.” Duo suddenly confessed. His head was still turned the other way.

“Neither have I,” Heero whispered, “but I've thought about it.”

“About me?” Came the careful question, causing Heero to smile, ever so slightly. He did not answer, letting Duo come to the conclusion on his own.

The young man heaved a sigh and turned to face Heero again. Their eyes met in an intense gaze. “Yeah. Me too.”

“What does it mean then?”

“That we're both freaks.” Duo muttered and rubbed the bridge of his nose; a sign, Heero knew, that he was troubled.

“I don't think so.” Heero countered and placed his hand on the back of the sofa, close enough to almost touch Duo, but still not making contact. He just wanted to let Duo know that he was there, and he was willing. The issue of gender did not bother him. He would follow his heart wherever it would lead him.

A shy smile touched Duo's lips as he eyed Heero's hand from the corner of his eyes. He hurried to hide it by bowing his head, but Heero had seen it nonetheless. It was an alien expression on a face of someone as confidant as Duo. But it gave Heero hope. He was not too late.

In one fluid motion, Duo leaned forward and snatched the remote off the coffee table. Pale light washed the living room as the television flickered on. Duo's eyes glued to the cheap action flick that played on the screen.

Heero sighed and turned to watch as well, knowing better than to pester. The conversation hadn't been easy on either of them. Silence, for once, would be a comforting interval.

The movie failed to capture his attention though. Soon Heero found himself drifting into sleep, his eyelids falling down heavily. Sleep crept around him slowly, coating him like honey. Through the haze he felt his body tilt sideways, nearly falling, until he caught himself and straightened back up. He nodded on and off, struggling to wake, sleep, whichever he could manage.

Soft murmuring drifted from the television set. He could still see the dim light flicker behind his closed eyelids. Duo's warmth was a distinctive presence by his side. Knowing that he was still there was a comfort unlike any other. Not everything had been said yet, but it was a start. Better than anything he had hoped for.

Gray waters filled his mind, slowly flooding the surface with calm shallow waters. Sleep wrapped its warm arms around him as he sunk into the soft ripples. He smiled and leaned deeper into the embrace, welcoming the warmth of another human being. Slumber was thick, warm and sweet while held in the hands of a loved one.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

To be continued...

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Alcohol withdrawal refers to a group of symptoms that may occur from suddenly stopping the use of alcohol after chronic or prolonged ingestion. Withdrawals can be Mild, Moderate or Severe. Not everyone who stops drinking experiences withdrawal symptoms, but most people who have been drinking for a long period of time will experience some form of withdrawal symptoms if they stop drinking suddenly.

Mild to Moderate physical withdrawal symptoms: Headaches - general, pulsating; Sweating, especially the palms of the hands or the face ; Nausea; Vomiting; Loss of appetite; Insomnia, sleeping difficulty; Paleness; Rapid heart rate; Eyes, pupils different size (enlarged, dilated pupils); Skin, clammy; Abnormal movements; Tremor of the hands; Involuntary, abnormal movements of the eyelids. (Extracted from http://www.about.com)