Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Other Side of the Coin ❯ You'll See ( Chapter 2 )

For notes, warnings, and disclaimers, see part 1. Lyrics will follow.


The Other Side of the Coin
Part 2: You'll See
By Solanum Dulcamara


The downy comforter should have been warm and cozy. The soft pillow should have been relaxing. The bed he slept in every night should have been a comfort. But it wasn't. They weren't. This was his cage, and as Duo lay amongst the folds of cottony fabric stronger than any gundanium bars, he found that, once again, he had absolutely no desire to even get out of bed.

He ducked his head into the coverlet to avoid the strips of daylight slipping through the blinds. As the sheets brushed his face, his nose filled with the scent, the remnants of last night. Immediately, he felt his throat tighten and his stomach lurch. He flung himself onto the floor, the wood cool against his bare skin. He breathed deeply and swallowed heavily in an attempt to calm his heart and bite back the nausea. The subtle aroma still permeated the air of the room and filled his senses with every gasp. His mutinous stomach turned in on itself, wrenching pain through Duo's abdomen, which quickly seared up his chest to burn in his throat. He struggled to his knees as the familiar bitter sting of bile teased the back of his throat. Skidding frantically across the waxed wood on his hands and knees, he tried not to trip over the tangled curtain of hair that hung around him. Why did fifteen feet feel so far? With every motion, his stomach rebelled, its convulsions sending tremors through the rest of his body until the only movement of his form was the trembling. And as he sat on hands and knees, bodily shaking, the memories of last night washed over him, and the night before that, and the night before that, and every night for the past two years... and he gave up. With violent upheavals, partially digested food scorched a deviant path up through his defiant mouth to splatter down his arms and pool around his hands. Pain wrung his gut with every pulse of vomit. Thick liquid seeped from his inflamed nostrils and trickled down his chin; fetid, salty, acrid. Foul-smelling clumps oozed down the strands of his hair. His body shook violently as the last of the choking coughs racked his frame.

"Who am I?" he thought wistfully, as bitter tears carved familiar trails down the pale cheeks, washing away small bits of vomit, "What is left of me?" The once gundam pilot bit back tears as he clawed angrily at the floor. "I can't do this anymore! I can't be this shell of who I was!"

He pushed to his feet shakily, and slowly made his way to the bathroom. "It ends today," he told his reflection, as the shower heated. He climbed in, rinsing away regret, pain, last night, the last two years, before stepping out.

He walked out of the bathroom and dropped his towel on his puddle, "Heero hates when I leave messes."

The usually expressive face was tightened into hardened reserve, as he crossed the room to the closet. "You made me believe that I was nothing without you," he informed the room at large, "No, I made myself believe that." He dressed quickly and began methodically packing a bag. "You sure helped the process along, though. Constantly reminding me of how many times you've saved me... how often you've picked up the pieces... how I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you."

He crossed the room to his dresser, efficiently choosing only what was necessary. As he slid the drawer closed, he made the unfortunate mistake of looking at the collection of pictures scattered over the dresser's surface. Pictures of laughter and smiles and times almost forgotten. Pain welled in his chest. His heart wasn't broken exactly. It was just that he didn't remember what love felt like. Somewhere along the way both he and Heero had settled into this way of living, and he was tired and sick, and he didn't want it anymore. "I won't be a prisoner. I'm getting out." With renewed resolve, he turned towards the door, only to freeze upon hearing the click of the dead bolt.

"Duo? I came home for lunch. Where are you?" Heero's calls sent shivers up his spine: pleasure or fear... or a bit of both. He fought the urge to crawl back under the covers. His bag was packed; there was no turning back. He willed his body to move into the living room, loving and hating the sight of his lover that greeted him.

Heero frowned in confusion at seeing Duo's bag. Unable to come up with a logical explanation for its presence, he asked, "Duo, why are you carrying your duffle bag? You haven't used it since the war."

The braided man chuckled darkly at his lover's phrasing. "You partly answered your own question. I haven't packed a bag since the war. Two years, Heero."

Blue eyes looked him over curiously. Heero's voice was hesitant, "So, you packed a bag because you missed packing?"

Duo had to suppress another chuckle. Heero was being deliberately dense, and he knew it. "I packed a bag because I'm leaving."

The expression on Heero's face was of a man suddenly punched. He slowly made his way to the sofa and fell onto the leather cushions, unaware of their cold surface. After several aborted attempts, he rasped, "Leaving?"

The familiar pain welled in Duo's chest and he crossed the room to join Heero on the sofa, dropping his bag next to the trendy coffee table that he hadn't wanted, but accepted because Heero liked it. They sat in silence, misery palpable in the air, trapped for a moment in their own thoughts. Oddly mirrored postures of broken men sat side by side, staring at their laps. Duo reached within himself, past the pain, and grabbed onto the bitterness; he needed it to survive this confrontation. When he spoke, his words were carefully chosen, "I haven't traveled since the war. I don't have a job. I don't have friends. I don't go places alone. I can't even remember the last time I left this damn apartment."

Heero looked up, acknowledging Duo's statements with a nod, but finding no fault with them. A desperate sigh escaped without Duo's permission. "Don't you see? This warm home of yours is my prison; the pro-fucking-verbial 'gilded cage!'"

"Our home is safe." Obvious hurt laced Heero's words.

"That's what I'm talking about. You don't trust me to take care of myself." Duo's tone was taking on a hysterical edge. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself into Heero's comforting embrace, but knew those arms for the shackles that they were.

"I worry about you because I love you." A hint of irritation crept into Heero's voice.

"You did love me once," Duo acquiesced, "Just like I loved you." Heero once again looked blind-sided. "You loved me into submission and I loved you into my keeper. It was so nice to have someone taking care of me that I just let you. I just let it happen," with Duo's words came his pain, "I used to be a gundam pilot. Now I don't even answer our door."

Heero, apparently recovered from his shock at Duo's words, reasserted, "I do love you."

"No Heero, you possess me."

The words sunk in passed the annoyed exterior, and Heero suddenly looked deflated. His usually intense eyes sought Duo's, and they searched each other's gaze. Guilt fell on the Japanese man so heavily, speaking required effort, "I've hurt you." It was as much statement as question, so Duo didn't answer. Heero found his voice again, "Oh God! I never meant to hurt you." He pulled his lover into his arms as his voice broke.

Duo let himself be held, offering what comfort he could while resisting the siren's song of Heero's touch. He clung to the bitter lump at the core of his pain as Heero clung to him. "Lend me a little of your strength, Heero," he thought, stroking his lover's back. He let Heero be the one to pull away first, but the look on Heero's face worried him.

The Japanese man stood and began to hurriedly pace the spacious living room, socked feet silent on the plush carpet. His words when they came, were a rush of guilt, pain, and hope. "We have to do something. We can't go on like this."

"No, Heero, we can't." Duo just sat, watching Heero, not having the strength to argue.

Heero continued as if he hadn't heard, "We'll get help. Therapy or whatever."

"Heero, we..." Duo's weak protests were a whisper crushed under Heero's planning.

"We'll get past this..." Duo didn't hear anymore. He let his head fall onto the sofa back and felt the usual pull to both do exactly what Heero thought was best or run. He supposed, in a way, he was running.

Finally, the stillness of the room invaded Heero's thoughts and he turned to look at Duo, a question in his gaze. Duo tried valiantly to steady his voice, to no avail. It came out shaky and uncertain. "You're doing it again. Deciding what's best for me without asking me. Keeping me in your safe little bubble."

Heero looked crestfallen, and Duo almost wanted to abort the whole thing, tell Heero it was all a mistake, and pretend like it never happened. He looked into those worried blue eyes and remembered what they looked like filled with love, and, no matter how he clung to his bitterness, the pain surged up and with the pain came the tears.

It was at that moment, watching Duo's tears in their starkly tasteful living room, that Heero realized how bad things truly were. He ached with the need to do something to fix whatever could be fixed. Hesitantly, he made his way back to the sofa. As he returned to his seat, he extended his arms in invitation. They dropped to his sides, lifeless, at Duo's small head shake. At a total loss, he could only wait, guilt crawling over him.

Tears subsided and emotions is check, Duo looked back at Heero, unsure of what to say next. Heero broke the uncomfortable silence, "What can I do..."

"You can't. It's broken, Heero, very broken." Duo looked around the living room he'd called home for two years, as he paused. He hated it. Hated the fashionable Euro-mod decor and the soulless abstract art. Grabbing onto that hate and his old bitterness, he spoke again, "We are beyond repair." He didn't wait to see the desperate look he knew he'd see in Heero's eyes, "We loved each other once... it was good once... but it's not anymore."

Heero looked, really looked at Duo for the first time. His lover's pale skin was tight over bones, cheeks hollow, eyes rimmed with dark circles. Duo reminded him of a P.O.W. ... and it all came into focus for him very quickly. He settled back against the leather with a hollowness eating at him. "How did things get like this? How did we get here?"

"I... don't know."

"Can we get back?"

"No. We can't."

Heero nodded and looked at his lap, at the pant legs of his impersonal suit for his anonymous job at a random office. "I messed up."

"Heero, you can't take all of the blame for this." Duo let himself touch Heero, putting a hand on Heero's. "It took both of us to start our relationship. So, it took both of us to screw it over. And, it's going to take both of us to... to... end it." Duo choked on the last few words. Heero's hand clasped his tightly, and Duo let go of the hate and the bitterness, drawing on the strength of that grip, the familiar pain, and the love that once was. "I have to go. I don't even know who I am anymore. I need to go out and prove to myself that I'm still a full person. And you, Heero, you deserve more than what I've been giving you. You deserve a fully functioning partner; an equal, not a shadow."

The blue eyes looked as if Heero might protest, but he didn't, instead saying, "That doesn't make it any easier."

"I know," Duo replied looking into the beautiful face of the man he alternately despised and adored, "Falling in love with you was the most wonderful thing I've ever done. Letting us become what we are was the worst mistake of my life. Leaving you is the scariest decision I've ever made. But I need to go, for both of us."

Heero nodded, the lump in his throat preventing speech. Duo stood and picked up his duffle, taking one last, long look at his lover of two years before turning to the door.

"Duo!" The sudden exclamation caught him unawares, and he turned to Heero, breath hitching. "Remember me... as I was." He blinked back tears, seeing the shadow of the man he once loved in those blue eyes. With a nod and ghost of a smile the door shut, severing two years of obsession and dependence.

Fin

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Yo u'll See
By Madonna

You think that I can't live, without your love
You'll see
You think I can't go on, another day
You think I have nothing, without you by my side
You'll see, somehow, some way

You think that I can never laugh again
You'll see
You think that you've destroyed my faith in love
You think after all you've done
I'll never find my way back home
You'll see, somehow, someday