Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Play Dead ❯ One-Shot

Heero stood at the edge of the cliff, perfectly still. The strong
winds ripped at his hair and clothing, but he didn't seem aware of
them. Only Wing, crouched waiting behind Heero, kept him from being
blown over the edge. But his thoughts were far away, on a long-
haired, violet eyed pilot.

{darling stop confusing me
with your wishful thinking
hopeful embraces}

"Baka," he whispered. <Why do you keep trying? You're not going to
get through, I can't let you through. Feelings only get in the way.>
But images kept crashing through his mind. Duo trying to distract
him from his laptop. Duo giving him spontaneous hugs. Duo giving him
longing looks when he thought Heero wasn't looking. Duo forcing him
into conversation.

{don't you understand?
i have to go through this
i belong to here where
no-one cares and no-one loves
no light no air to live in
a place called hate
the city of fear}

<I'm the Perfect Soldier. I do not fear. I AM the Perfect Soldier.
I do NOT fear.> Heero silently repeated the litany, as if to make it
the truth. Heero lived on hate. Fear, certainly not fear for the
fate of that braided baka, had no place in his existence. Any caring
and loving had been buried with the small, dead dog. A part of him
flinched from the memory, a long ignored ache pulsed briefly in his
chest. Duo said he needed to actually live, but Duo was wrong. Life
was only fighting. When the fighting was done, he'd be dead. No
reason not to prepare now.

{i play dead
it stops the hurting
i play dead
and the hurting stops}

Heero climbed into Wing, noted the flashing message. "Ninmu
ryoukai." Within a few hours, he surveyed a burning base, sparking
remnants of mobile suits cluttered the ground around him. He'd
killed many today, and laughed as they died, yet now, he felt
detached. He had fed his pain and now welcomed the numbness that took
him away from it.

{it's sometimes just like sleeping
curling up inside my private tortures
i nestle into pain
hug suffering
caress every ache}

Heero entered the safehouse.

"Heero!!!! You're back!!!" Duo came hurtling toward him at high
speed, relief and pleasure at his return clear on his expressive
features. Heero remained silent and merely death-glared at the
braided pilot to stop his impending tackle, then continued to his
room, sitting down at the laptop. He ignored the sudden hurt in the
violet eyes.

Duo pasted a smile back on his face, and when he spoke it was a voice
laced with sarcasm, "A successful mission, I guess. Or you haven't
found a successful way to self-destruct." That small place inside
him quailed at having hurt him, and the voice that implied he wished
Heero had self-destructed. Heero's face became even more impassive.

{i play dead
it stops the hurting}

~~Owari~~