Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ To Live for You ❯ Chapter 1

To Live for You

 

 

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does not belong to me…but it will…maybe. You never know. *wink*

 

 

Why bother staying in a place that gave you nothing but pain and sadness? Death seemed a much sweeter option…

 

 

I broke into the window to get in. Yes, I went through the window of my own room of our safe house to get in. Call me fucking stupid or whatever you like but I'm not going to be caught ambling like a useless piece of shit back to my room by the fucking perfect soldier. I'm not in the mood for any of his fucking glares or any of those “You got caught again, 02.”. Hell no. Not after what I've been through tonight, I'm not going to get whatever was left of my fucking self esteem stomped and thrashed on either by Him or little old Wu-man. Oh, right he's been on a mission since last week, one eye and Quat's doing a little stint together so that leaves me and him alone together. Fucking hell. I let a silent scream pass through my mouth as I tried to manouvere myself into a sitting position on the floor. Didn't make it to the bed. I rested my back on the on the wall just below the window sill and took several deep breaths, trying to calm the persistent stabbing pain in my side, one hand pressed on the wound to ward off some of the bleeding. Thoughts ran jumbled on my head, tripping one over another. I scrunched up my nose and focused on my surroundings, trying to command my thoughts into order. Ok, I fucked up another mission, I got injured badly, I got caught, I escaped. But did I get what I came for? I banged my head on the wall and something hard pressed onto the back of my head. Yep, it's there. I retrieved the files and stored them in the micro disk and had securely hidden the hard case at the base of my braid. I let my head roll to one side as I gasped for breath, the pain in my side intensifying. I need to get this bullet, the bullets out, but how? I haven't the strength to do it alone…I could call another pilot to…Then I remembered which pilot was available and I shook my head violently. Pain exploded immediately in my head and I collapsed on the floor luckily managing to do so on my good side. Luck. I'd had plenty of that stuff tonight, but it looks that right now, I'm running out of stock. I could whine for help but in my current state I doubt I even have the voice to…what the fuck, Maxwell, just let it go. Let go. You're gonna die now, you've reached the end of your rope. It's not like the war wouldn't be able to go on without you. The world would go on well without shit like you. Do the world a favor and die quietly will ya? At least do this one thing right. I curled up on myself more, with the ceaseless litany of obscenities echoing in my pain logged brain. As the pain intensified, the words flowed more freely, and I felt myself agreeing to them. I just have to let go. Just silently slip away? Yeah, I can do that. I'm a born thief, a stealth master. At least Shinigami would have the dignity of going in silence. I tried to straighten my position, and it hurt like hell, but I clenched my teeth and did it. I lay gasping for breath, feeling the life languidly trickling out of me through the gash on my head and the bullet holes on my side. Wouldn't it be selfish of me to abandon the cause we've fought so hard for? It felt wrong to just leave all those people suffering. I could've prevented those…I could've fought a little more….I could fight a little more…No. They don't need me. They'd be better off without me. I'm not like Heero. Yeah, it's better, things would be much better off without me… So dizzy, so tired, and there's pain everywhere. Everywhere. Pain, pain, pain pain, pain, pain…

 

 

Nobody needs me here. I'm free to go right? Right?

 

 

But why did it feel like I was leaving something very important behind?

 

 

I sighed and felt the breath slip out of my body as I closed my eyes and gave way to the blackness that spread through the expanse of space around me.

 

 

***

 

 

I blinked. Hm…something didn't feel right. I blinked again. And again. Ceiling. But no pain? Not fucking possible. I got up tiredly and brushed myself clean of the dirt and grime that I was sure was clinging to me after hours of surveillance outside the fucking base. Then I blinked again.

 

 

I was here, right? Standing? Then who was that figure lying on his side clutching the blood soaked part of what appeared to be a priest's…with a long blood soaked braid…

 

 

Holy, holy shit….

 

 

I looked at my hands. Touched my face. Yeah, definitely me. I kneeled on one knee and looked closely at the prone figure in front of me. Bruised up face and all that fancy stuff I always get as a souvenir on missions. Grinning, I tried to touch my face, well the one on the floor anyway, to get a lock of hair away from my nose, thinking that if it must've itched if I could feel it….but my hands just kinda passed through.

 

 

Alright Maxwell, you did a good job of yourself tonight. Thorough job, killing yourself, that. I felt heavy inside, still depressed I guess, but I managed to get a laugh out of me.

 

 

Then I felt like slapping myself.

 

 

I'm laughing… at myself…that I did a good job of killing… myself?

 

 

Fuck, I am crazy.

 

 

Another laugh echoed in the room, and startled, I whirled around trying to find the source of the voice. A figure sat on the edge of my former bed, legs crossed in front of him, one hand resting on the bed itself, the other rubbing a spot on his cheek absently. I looked closely. I knew that laugh. It sounded awfully familiar. Hauntingly familiar. I've heard it in my dreams, nightmares, whatever you wanna call them, I told you I don't fucking care. I stepped closer, trying to get a good look at him.

 

 

“Hey kid, long time no see, huh?”

 

 

He swiped at the edge of his nose with the tip of his thumb and looked at me with a cocky grin plastered to his face. He looked like…

 

 

“Solo?”

 

 

I croaked out, staring dumbfounded at him for a second.

 

 

“Aw, you still remember..?”

 

 

That did it. I glomped him. He kept his balance and hugged me back. He was saying something in a low, soothing voice. I didn't catch the words at first, my brain was too busy digesting the fact that he was actually here with me again. Solo. I really am dead now, but maybe…hope sparked within me…that meant…Father Maxwell…Sister Helen and the rest of the gang….they…I choked back a sob.

 

 

I'd be able to see them again after all these time?

 

 

I missed them like hell, and I'd be able to see them…My brain was exploding with possibilities. My chest was overflowing with emotion. I was robbed of the people I had called my family by the war, and now, they were being given back to me…a second chance for me to be with them. To be with all of them.

 

 

Forever.

 

 

“Duo… Duo, hey kid, you listening to me?”

 

 

I looked up into the face before me, afraid to let go. Solo had this soft, fond, smile on his face and he looked at me in an almost kind way. God, I missed him. Missed them all. I hugged him tighter.

 

 

“I know how you feel Duo. We missed you too. All of us…but…”

 

 

I looked up at his face again.

 

 

“But what?”

 

 

“You're not supposed to be here yet kid.”

 

 

What the fuck.

 

 

“You're still needed back there…”

 

 

He nodded to the prone body that lay dead silent by the window.

 

 

“No. I'm not going back!!!”

 

 

I felt waves of anger rising inside me. Felt every inch of me wanting to retaliate, to lash out, to say that he's wrong and defend myself…But curiously, I felt something else.

 

 

“Why? Who's the sadistic bastard that wanted me crushed and mangled again? Isn't it enough that I lost everything through this fucking war? I gave up my childhood and grit my teeth trying to fight for survival in the streets. I never knew my parents, and the only family I ever had was wiped out completely. Every single one of them. Twice. Who's fucking controlling the strings around here, Solo? Why does he hate me so fucking much?!”

 

 

I stood up, trembling in anger, tears threatening to fall anytime from my eyes…I never knew that souls could still cry…I swiped them away quickly with the back of my hand. Solo was still sitting on the bed now, I had untangled myself from him in my outburst, and he was now looking at me with a terribly pained expression in his face. I didn't feel reprimand emanating from his presence, just grief and remorse. He looked like a grief stricken soul.

 

 

“Duo, kid, I…watched over you through those years…I know what you went through…what you felt. I was there with you Duo. I never left your side.”

 

 

I bowed my head and forced my eyes tightly shut. He was there…

 

 

“Then…why let me go back to that shit hole, Solo?”

 

 

I asked the question knowing what his answer would be.

 

 

“You can still do this kid. You still have something to live for.”

 

 

I snapped at that.

 

 

“Who the fuck would want a street shit like me, huh, Solo?”

 

 

He smiled again, a weak kind of smile, wearily almost. It was as if he knew something I didn't. But then again, Solo knew plenty of things. Sometimes I almost felt like he knew me more than I knew myself.

 

 

I heard a creak, and the door slowly opened. A crack first, but since the room was dark, it was hard to tell who was behind it. A voice called out my name, and instantly, I felt something click inside my head. I let out a manic burst of laughter.

 

 

“Fuck, you don't really mean…No fucking way…!”

 

 

But it was. An unruly, chocolate haired youth went unobtrusively inside, cautiously looking around. He called my name again. I felt my something stir inside me, a feeling I have long harbored back when I was alive. Mr. Fucking perfect soldier's glance roved the room quickly and caught sight of the dead body by the window.

 

 

My dead body.

 

 

He froze.

 

 

In that short moment I caught panic and a variety of other emotions fleeting across his face but what caught my attention the most was fear. I took a step back, severely shocked. I have never seen that emotion on him before. Not when he was caught, not even when he seemed like he was in the brink of death, no…that expression has never crossed his features. His entire aura was smothered in fear.

 

 

Good God above, don't tell me he fears dead bodies that much `cause with the amount of corpses our job generates, it'd be like fearing sick people if you were a doctor. And that would make it damned impossible to get the job done, if you catch my drift.

 

 

I was too busy being shocked and downright confused to closely observe what Heero did next. I remember him kneeling and checking over my vital signs and all that crap which is just a damned useless waste of time considering the fact, the unarguable fact that I'm already dead. D-U-H.

 

 

“You just going to stand there and let him do whatever he wants? I mean, I'm already dead and all right? Give the guy a break and tell him to fuck off.”

 

 

Solo smirked at my last comment.

 

 

“No, I doubt he's a necrophiliac. I'm guessing he's not that type, kid.”

 

 

I blushed. Bloody shit?! Souls blush? But I felt myself color just the same as I answered back.

 

 

“Come the fuck on, Solo, you know what I meant!”

 

 

He looked at me, as if he was memorizing every detail of my face and smiled another one of those knowing smiles again. Damn, with all the things I'm experiencing in this state, I'm wondering how a punch would feel like on that all knowing little…

 

 

“Check your feelings again, kid. Aren't you forgetting something? Don't hide now, it's not the time or the place…”

 

 

He crossed his hands in front of his chest and leaned back on the bed, closing his eyes. I felt like I knew what he was talking about. I clutched my head and blinked, feeling the rush of feelings flow back. Then I looked back to where Heero was frantically trying to revive my body. I studied him carefully. So very different from the cold, unresponsive Heero I'd known. He still had this intense air of fear about him, an aura that shimmered around him it seems. Fear. I wondered vaguely what that fear was for.

 

 

I heard him mumbling something…something with my name again…was he still calling me an idiot for giving him all the trouble he's into now because I'd carelessly killed myself? I stepped closer and listened.

 

 

“Maxwell, dammit, wake up…please wake up…”

 

 

He wants me to wake up?

 

 

“I thought you always wanted me to shut up, Heero. Wish granted.”

 

 

I said the words bitterly. I wanted nothing more than his attention back then. I felt lonely during missions and I wanted to talk to someone, you know, to ease the tension and stress and all that pre-misssion shit. But he always glared at me, telling me to shut up and that I'm an idiot- in his language. `Baka.', he said. Well here's a news for you Heero. I didn't need to speak your language just to know that you're calling me an idiot. I can feel it. Takes experience to do that though.

 

 

I hung around him still. Dammit he was my partner most of the time and I felt drawn to him. I watched Heero perform every technique he knew, going through the motions on auto. How come he's so concerned for me? I thought he fucking wanted me out of his life?

 

 

I remembering working hard just to give him the impression that I'm strong. That I'm worthy of being his partner. He seemed so perfect, so unreachable. I guess, I am attracted to him…I even…cared for him..?

 

 

I looked up at Solo, recognition dawning on my face. Solo nodded. I continued analyzing my feelings. Heero continued in futility right before me. I smiled sadly. Even if I did care for him…alright. I breathed deeply and forced myself to be honest and admit my feelings. I love the guy. There, dammit. I fucking love him. I don't know how or why I feel this way, I just woke up one day and felt myself trapped, you know, loving a robot. No other way to put it. A person with no feelings, behaves so fucking perfectly on stuff, and submits himself mindlessly to the will of his superiors. A robot. Dead on. I winced at the expression.

 

 

But then again, what's the chance that he'd love me back? Nil. Nada. So… what's the use of going back? What's the use of going through all that fucking crap called life again…?

 

 

“Duo, please, oh God please….”

 

 

I felt the fear come back full force again. Felt it emanating from every fibre of his being.

 

 

“No Duo, don't die…Fuck this is all my fault!”

 

 

I looked with renewed interest at the scene before me. Heero swearing? He sounded frustrated, desperate, like someone on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He was pale and trembling, helplessly splayed on the floor, cradling my lifeless body in his arms. He exhausted himself trying to revive me, but you can't really bring the dead back to life, especially when the soul refuses to go back, I mean, that's priority number one right? A body has to have a soul, otherwise, it's just a shell.

 

 

“…You were always there, duo, when everyone went away you were just there, laughing, smiling at all the good things in life. You called yourself death but you're as bright as life itself…you taught me things I never knew existed. Taught me that life was still worth living. That it was still worth fighting for. Duo, I never would have realized any of this without you…Duo please, Duo wake up, Duo….Duo….please don't leave alone…please live…if only for just me….”

 

 

This last one pierced me through. Heero looked so lost and confused. So innocent, just like a little child. But then again, all of us were innocents, the war just came and corrupted us, taking every fucking thing in its wake and staining our hands a pretty shade of crimson. All of us, victims. In the end, no one really wins a war. We all lose. One way or another. Every single one of us.

 

 

“Duo, I…I…”

 

 

I gasped as Heero captured the unmoving lips of the body he was holding and pressed his own on it. I looked at Solo and nodded and he smiled back

 

 

“Good luck, kid.”

 

 

He got up and crossed the distance between us in a second's breadth. He hugged me one last time and as soon as he released me, I felt Heero's lips moving in mine. I joined him and I weakly lifted a hand placing it on his neck, pulling him closer. To my surprise, he didn't act surprised or anything, hell if it was me I'd be freaking out right now, but well, this was Heero we were talking about. I moaned as a tongue slipped past inside, roughly tasting me…I still felt tired but God I wanted more…

 

 

As we pulled back to catch our breaths, Heero never did completely let me go. He was breathing hard onto my neck, his scent a light musk, something that I'd always wanted to feel close next to me. He breathed my name and raised his head, looking deep into my eyes.

 

 

“Aishiteru, Duo.”

 

 

“I love you too Heero.”

 

 

As I said, you don't have to really speak a person's language to understand what they're saying. You would feel it…

 

 

Even if we're on the losing side of the battle, maybe…Just maybe…

 

 

Maybe everything would turn out alright after all.

 

 

After all…

 

 

I had someone to live for now.

 

 

***

 

 

OWARI

 

 

***

 

Another angsty-fluffy fic…all in a single night….Chocolate cookies…*shudders* never again.

 

Um, etto….I'm still unsure of skills and stuff…would you please tell me what you think…about this fic? *bows low* Arigato gozaimasu!