Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Stolen ❯ Stolen ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.

Notes: Yet another version of Duo's 'everyone I love, dies' theme. It came to mind when my beta, sailor c. ryoko, rec-ed Caroline's Abandoned to me, and when I watched the screen version of Watership Down. So you can say that those two things inspired me. (But this doesn't have anything to do with rabbits, though ^ ^;;)

Warnings: 1+2, angst, melodrama (because my angst becomes melodrama), Quatre POV, PG

Sets: After Heero's self-destruction.

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Stolen by Maaya

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I think it is past midnight. Quietly, I can hear the faint, almost imagined tick-tockings from the antique clock on the wall above the desk across the room. It's the vibrations when the hand tries to settle down on the numbers I hear as the ancient hand-made parts move. The dark is entire, and it would have been even if I opened my eyes.

I don't like most things from the desert; the heat, dry odour and sun that is broiling more than shining. I don't like desert-days. Now, desert-nights are an utterly different thing. The nights are chilly and though dry, it is somehow more restful than during the day. If you're outside, it is dark enough to see a sea of stars spreading out above and I find the familiar patterns of constellations comforting. And best, but also worst, of all; it is quiet. When the servants have gone to bed and the soldiers are standing on guard far away enough to not be heard when they talk then it really is quiet. That silence is something to bless sometimes. When you need to think, when you are alone, you are still 'accompanied' by it. But if you spend too much time with it, you'll start think *too* much. It'll weigh heavily upon your eardrums and force you to speak to yourself, sing, and scream to make it stop. Anything to make it stop.

Right now, it is a heavy, tense sort of silence surrounding me. It wouldn't *have* to be this tense, but the knowledge of what is going to happen soon forces it. Any minute now . . . any second, any instant. It'll happen soon.

My bedroom door is located right next to Duo's. He knows as well as I do that I fixed it to be that way so I can keep and eye on him. It's not like I don't *want* to trust him, but if I wouldn't put up some security measures, Rashid would. What my heart ever tells me, I am not stupid. Logic and gut feelings don't always go together, and precaution is never to be sneered at. Duo does at least not seem offended by my decision. He just grinned at me with a knowing glint in his eyes and announced he was going to bed.

But when I arranged the rooms, I never realized what kind of nuisances could ensue.

It started out quietly the first night. It always does. I was awake, because the adrenaline high I was on after the flashy escape from the Magnuacs' hideout hadn't completely calmed. It was in the middle of the night though, and Duo was most likely sound asleep in the other room. I don't think the killing and death troubles him as much as it troubles me - he *does* claim to be Shinigami after all. But, for some reason, I was awake and feeling uneasy, staring up at the black space where I knew the ceiling was though I couldn't see it.

But then I heard him start . . . groaning. The walls at the residence were very thin, because with the heat from the desert, one didn't really need thick partitions to keep the warmth inside. The sounds from Duo's room were easy to pick up on. At first, I thought it was groans in pleasure, and that he was having a . . . nice dream. Embarrassed, there wasn't much to do but continue to listen and hope I could fall asleep as soon as possible. But after some moments, there were other sounds as well. Choked down . . . sobs. It took me a while to grasp the meaning of that and understand. In the other room, Duo was crying, whether in his sleep or not I couldn't know.

I knew that coming there and soothe him wouldn't do much good, so I didn't. Instead I stayed in my own bed and listened to the watery panting sounds, feeling like a complete bastard, questioning what Duo had to be sad enough to cry about. It was not any of my business to question or even *think* about those things, but when I had started, my mind seemed to continue on its own. I tried to analyze Duo Maxwell, which was rather horrible, but the truth. And, well, there was not much else to do during that night. Or the days, even.

I figured from the beginning that he was a positive sort of person. If not cheerful, at least someone who *wanted* to think of everything from the bright side. He followed his heart and instincts more than his brain and logic, but that didn't mean he made stupid decisions. His instincts were made to make him survive, formed after the rules of life. A little like a wild animal, actually.

A couple of days ago, I asked him what he fought for. He tilted his head to the right, smirked, and told me that it was nothing I needed to know about. Then he asked me what brought this up. 'Nothing', I said. He snorted and wondered if I wanted to learn how to play poker.

I did learn how to play poker, and, I might add, lost miserably.

But after a while, I suddenly realized what made him so sad. We talked about nothing at all, and suddenly came to the subject of that Heero Yuy, who had killed himself for the sake of the colonies. The young pilot who Duo had seemed to know, at least a little. The young pilot who had smashed his head against the ground in high speed. I asked about Duo's opinion on the dead pilot.

'An idiot,' he said. 'A complete idiot who didn't know a thing about humanity. A bastard who stole stuff from me and then died using them.'

It took me a whole night of pondering before I understood that it was Duo's heart he'd stolen.

And now his sobbing starts, easily heard through the thin wall separating us.

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The End

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