Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Time Is All We Need ❯ Chpater 1: The Salt in Your Bed ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Time Is All We Need

Warnings: Swearing, possible spoilers from past events, major angst, OOCness, LEMON/LIME, yaoi, possible drug/alcohol abuse, etc...



Chapter 1: The Salt in Your Bed

(Heero)


It'd been years since the war ended, years since I'd last seen him in the flesh. These days, the only time I saw him was on posters in shop windows and CD covers in the local music stores. Finally, Quatre'd given me the push I needed. He'd given me the excuse, offering a ticket he wouldn't be able to use because he wouldn't be able to make it to the concert with all the work he had to do. He made it so easy to yes. How could I be rude to him? Quatre is too sweet, too easily hurt by rejection, so I accepted his offer, taking the tickets and flying to see him, Duo.

We hadn't parted on the best of terms and I had no idea how he might react when he saw me again, if he even would look at me. He was famous now after all. With all of his adoring fans and lusting groupies, he'd probably put me behind him and never turned back. And he had every reason to.

Nervous butterflies fluttered in my abdomen and I felt nauseous as I stood in line, people slowly filing into the venue Duo'd be performing at. I swallowed as I handed my own ticket to the petite woman in all black with reddish hair who stood at the door and she tore it in half and handed it back to me before admitting me into the large room. I held my backstage pass and VIP pass close, finding my way to the VIP section. I was sweating by then, so nervous that I actually thought about leaving, but I stood still.

An eternity passed while I waited for the lights to dim and Duo to begin his performance. I stood awestruck when he came out on stage alone with a guitar and sat on the stool that had been set in the middle. He looked beautiful and... Sad. His eyes were filled with sorrow as he gazed out into the sea of riled fans, most of them women. He smiled, but it didn't even touch the amethyst depths. I swallowed a lump that was forming in my throat. He didn't look my way; he probably couldn't really see with the brightness of the spotlight in his eyes. He pulled the mike closer to him as he rested the shiny, ebony guitar on his lap.

“How are you all doing tonight?” he asked, his melodic voice softer than I remembered; it was as if he were a different person all together. The bright lights made him look paler than I'd ever seen him and they glinted off of the long strands of chestnut hair he was wearing down for once. The crowd rolled forward as fans clawed at the barrier in front of the stage, all of them vying for his attention. He merely smiled gratefully at them. They screamed and cat called him.

“That's good to hear. What do you say we get started? This one's called 'Adrian',” he said quietly, the same melancholy tone leaving his lips. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him as more screams brayed around me. He cleared his throat briefly before beginning the first subtle notes on his guitar, his voice starting up soon after, portraying a sad story through the lovely lyrics I was certain he'd written himself.

“Adrian came home again last summer. Things just haven't been the same 'round here. And people talk. And people stare. Oh, Adrian, come out and play,” Duo's singing was like nothing I'd ever listened to before, the words flowing as though he had been made only to sing them. He looked out at the crowd which was silent, listening. He continued, his eyes closing as he played and sang, “An unfortunate accident in a canoe. Doctor said, 'I'm sorry, not much I can do'. And the air was so still. And his eyes, they did not blink. Oh, Adrian, come out and play,” he smiled sadly, his delicate fingers pressing onto the guitar strings gently as if he might break them if he put too much pressure on them. He breathed in and I listened, “ Little Mary Epperson liked him. And she vowed always to watch after him. But he still did not move. And the doctor said, 'It's no use.' Oh, Adrian, come out and play. She sat by his side, and watched the years fly by. He looked so fragile, he looked so small. She wondered why he was still alive at all,” his voice wavered slightly with emotion and the crowd stood still, silenced by his emotion. It was as though he'd put them in a trance. I was captivated as well. I'd never seen him like this, not ever.

He'd never even shown this kind of emotion while we were in battle, when civilians died in our line of fire. I couldn't understand how this boy and the one I knew from the past could be the same, but I knew then that the past had been a lie. He'd been wearing a mask the whole time; he'd been hiding behind a clever cover and I'd neglected to ever find out what laid beneath. What kind of awful, selfish lover I must have been. My eyes blurred with tears, but they did not fall.

“Everyone in town had that 'I'm so sorry' look. They talked in a whispered hush, said,'I'd turn the machines off,'” he whispered the last bit, sadness clung to every syllable and still I could not look away. “But still she sat by his side. She said, 'Life, he won't be denied.' Oh, Adrian, come out and play. Yellow flowers decorate his bedroom. Sign above his door says 'Welcome Home.' But he just sits and stares. He's awake, but still not there. Oh, Adrian, come out and play.” Images flew through my mind, conjured by the lyrics he sung. I imagined the boy, Adrian. How had Duo written this? How had he created this story? His closed eyes gave me no answer as he continued his song.

“She sat by his side, and watched the years fly by. He looked so fragile, he looked so small. And she wondered why he was still alive at all,” the chorus repeated before the final verse, “Little Mary Epperson grew up lovely. And she still comes to visit him on Sundays. He's like an unused toy. He's got big hands, but the mind of a little boy. Oh, Adrian, come out and play. Adrian came home again last summer. Things just haven't been the same around here,” he finished the same way he'd started. I was speechless as was the rest of the crowd before they broke out into cheering seconds later. Duo smiled before continuing. I was surprised that many of his songs were slow, many of them sad. Only two of the others stuck in my mind, ones that I knew must have been about me; they were sung one right after the other, the last of the set. The second one that I would never forget was the last song of the night and the first time Duo's eyes drifted to me.

(Duo)

Every time I sang this song, memories would flood back into my mind of the day I went to Heero's just to be there, to know that he was mine. He hadn't been home, but it didn't really matter to me. “I went to your house. Walked up the stairs. I opened your door without ringing the bell. Walked down the hall into your room. Where I could smell you. I shouldn't be here without permission. I shouldn't be here.” Even though I knew he'd be pissed that I'd let myself into his house without permission. I just knew that he'd forgive me. Besides, I'd only wanted to stay for a little while. “Would you forgive me love, if I danced in your shower? Would you forgive me love, if I laid in your bed? Would you forgive me love, if I stayed all afternoon?” I just showered and used his shampoo. I even wrote I love you on the steamed mirror. And I did, love him I mean. I loved him to the point of near blindness. I didn't question his absences or his distances. I didn't question his coldness. Heero'd always been chilly. It was just his personality. That's what I told myself when doubt set in.

“I took off my clothes, put on your robe. I went through your drawers. And I found your cologne. Went down to the den, found your Cd's. And I played your Johnny. And I shouldn't stay long. You might be home soon. I shouldn't stay long.” I wore his robe, memorizing his scent; I even sprayed myself with his cologne. Maybe that sounds odd, but I was so in love with him. I'd been in love with him forever as far as I was concerned. There'd never be anyone else for me, but him. “Would you forgive me love, if I dance in your shower? Would you forgive me love, if I laid in your bed? Would you forgive me love, if I stayed all afternoon?” I stayed for hours, just listening to his music and thinking of him. I imagined what our future might be like, what it would be like to live here with him. We'd even talked about it before. I was such a fool then.

“I burned your incense I ran a bath. And I noticed a letter that sat on your desk. It said: 'Hello, love. I love you so, love. Meet me at midnight.' And no, it wasn't my writing. I'd better go soon. It wasn't my writing...” The letter had just been sitting his desk right beside his stupid laptop like it was meant to be there. I hadn't even noticed it before when I was wandering around his room. I felt sick when I read it. It wasn't mine. I hadn't written it. And next to it sat Heero's agenda, open with the words midnight and some address scribbled on the page. I couldn't breathe as my world crashed down around me. I should have known, that's all I could think. Suddenly, all the absences, the distances, and the coldness made sense. He wasn't mine, at least not mine alone. “So forgive me, love, if I cry in your shower. So forgive me, love, for the salt in your bed. So forgive me, love, if I cry all afternoon .”

I hardly felt the tears on my face. Couldn't look at the bed we'd made love in, the bath he'd washed my hair in, the kitchen we'd eaten together in, the sofa we'd watched countless movies on. I couldn't look at any of them. I threw up in Heero's bathroom; I dropped tears all over his floor and bed as I ripped off his robe and scrubbed his smell off of my skin. How could he have done this to me? He'd only ever been the one for me. There'd never been anyone else and yet I wasn't his one and only. I don't even remember getting dressed; by then I was too out of it to even think, my body acting mechanically. I'd lost him.

I didn't even want to know who it was, but I did. I knew who it had to be. I'd recognized the address. I'd been there a dozen times before. Wufei, my friend, my comrade, my brother had betrayed me. I couldn't swallow the awful lump that formed in my throat. I couldn't even see clearly as I stumbled all the way there. And there they were, together. I threw up in Wufei's garden and I didn't feel remorse for it. How could they have done this? I remember barging in on the two of them in Wufei's living room, cuddled like a couple on his couch. I remember Heero's face, the utter shock. He'd never thought I'd figure it out. He'd never thought that he'd make the mistake of letting me. I hated them then. I ripped the necklace Heero'd bought me from around my neck and threw it at them, storming out of the house, running faster than I ever had before. I remember him calling after me as if I would actually turn around. I ran back to my own home, miles away.

My legs ached, but I didn't feel it. The pain in my chest was too prominent. I hated them both and yet, I loved them. I bit my lip so hard, it bled and I screamed at the top of my lungs until my breath ran thin. I pulled my hair out of its secure braid and smashed drinking glasses on my front porch. I didn't care.

And finally my concert was coming to an end, the last song waiting on my tongue, when finally my eyes raked over the VIP section, expecting to see Quat like I always did. He hardly ever missed a show when I was close by. I gasped when I saw Heero standing in his place. I stared at him. He looked just the same except that he'd grown a few more inches and his shoulders were broader now. I very nearly choked on my lyrics, but took a deep breath instead. “This last song is dedicated to the one who broke my heart,” I said quietly into the microphone, I stared at Heero as the crowd booed at the thought of someone breaking my heart. I smiled sadly at them.

“Well I've been down to Georgia. I've seen the streets in the West. I've driven down the 90, hell I've seen America's best. I've been through the Rockies, I've seen Saskatoon. I've driven down the highway 1, just hopin' that I'd see you soon 'cause I'm comin' home. I'm comin' home,” I hoped he felt guilty while he listened to the lyrics of the songs I'd written about him. I hoped he regretted ever being with Wufei. I hoped he suffered listening to me sing. “I've never been to Alaska, but I can tell you this, I've been to Lincoln, Nebraska and hell you know it ain't worth shit. I've been through Nova Scotia, Sydney to Halifax. I'll never take any pictures cause I know I'll just be right back 'cause I'm comin' home. I'm comin' home.”

I'd been so many places now, all over the world without him, yet I kept coming back here. I hated him and I hoped he knew it. And I still loved him even as I hated him. I sang like my life depended on it. I hoped he felt it. I hoped he felt the pain he'd caused. “I've seen a palace in London, I've seen a castle in Wales, but I'd rather wake up beside you and breathe that ol' familiar smell. I never thought you could leave me, I figured I was the one, but I understand your sadness, so I guess I should just hold my tongue, But I'm comin' home. I'm comin' home.”

I know he was sad when I left. I remember him crying, begging me to stay, to work it out. There wasn't anything to work out. He wasn't mine. I was his, but he wasn't mine. “I know that we're takin' chances, you told me life was a risk, but I just have one last question... Will it be my heart or will it be his?” I asked him only one question and he never answered. He just knelt there on the floor. That was answer enough for me.

“I'm comin' home,” I finished the song painfully, thanked the audience and walked offstage, hoping to whatever god there was that Heero wouldn't be back there when I got there. God hates me just so you know. Heero was there, just there, standing in the doorway waiting for me to come to him. I wanted to punch him and kiss him at the same time. I hated that I felt this way about him. I hated that his eyes looked so sad. I hated that I wanted him still, that I loved him still.

“Why are you here Heero?” I asked bitterly, looking at him with sorrowful eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept for days, deep gray bags resting on his cheeks beneath the reddened Prussian eyes. He stood still as if he didn't know what to say or where to move. I pushed passed him and headed into my personal dressing room, waving my bodyguards to the door to keep the other fans out as Heero followed me into the room.

I leaned against the window, a cold water bottle in my hand. I'd offered him one out of politeness, but he'd declined, standing by the chair just across from me. “I just needed to see you,” his voice sent unwanted and uncontrollable shivers down my spine. It'd been years since I'd heard it last. I swallowed, holding to my resolve to be bitter towards him.

“Why? What do you want? To invite me to your wedding or something?” I asked spitefully, my voice dripping with malice. Heero looked guilty as he met my hurt eyes.

“No, I--I needed to tell you that I'm sorry. I needed to say that it was a mistake, that my answer should have been you. The choice should have been obvious, but I was so stupid Duo. So stupid. I meant to call you a thousand times, but I couldn't do it. Quatre even gave me your number. I just couldn't do it,” he explained, fumbling over his words. I snorted. Did he honestly think that that would be enough? Did he think that I'd forgive him so easily? I crossed my arms across my chest, the uncapped water bottle dangling from my left hand. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and watched him. He clearly wasn't finished.

“Duo, I know it doesn't make up for what happened, but I needed you to know,” he finished, his eyes pleading with me as his voice shook a little. Was he going to cry? I looked down and back at him once again, thinking over what he'd said.

“Do you feel better?” I questioned, knowing he was releasing whatever guilt he'd had pent up. I cocked a hip, my sharp hipbones jutting out, my pale midriff showing as my tight violet shirt rode up just a little higher, my dark pants slung low. Heero blinked in confusion before his eyes hardened a little. That's right Heero, get pissed off, that's the Heero I know.

“Duo, it's been years, can't we at least start over. We were sixteen and we thought we were in love-”

“We thought? Heero, I knew I was in love with you. You were everything to me. I would have been your's forever and you ruined us,” I exclaimed, my voice raising with anger as I moved away from my leaning position against the wall before letting my voice slip back to a near whisper, “You ruined me.”

Heero appeared taken aback, like he hadn't been expecting that kind of reaction from me. I felt nauseous. He sighed heavily, “Duo, I didn't mean it like that. It's just we were young and messed up from what we'd seen and done or at least I was. I didn't know what you were offering. I didn't know what love really meant Duo. And I fucked up.”

I snorted, “You sure did. You know, I can't even move on. You know why Heero?” I question bitterly, my voice wavering with unshed tears and he shook his head slightly, “Because I still love you. I never could stop myself from feeling,” I finished in a whisper, my water falling to the floor and spilling everywhere. Why did he have to come here now?



TBC...


Hope you all enjoyed this new story I've started. I really don't know where I am planning on going with it, but it will be going somewhere, I swear. I feel really awful that Wufei always seems to be the bad guy. Don't get me wrong; I love Wuffie, but I needed a bad guy and he was there doing nothing, so don't hold it against me. Please read and review. Thanks.

Angel