Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Why ❯ One-Shot

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Warnings: if death bothers you, please turn back now.
Pairings: past 1x2, implied 3x4
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing.
// blah // = inner thoughts/monologue
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// The pain would pass, I was told. So would the loss.

When, I want to know. When does it stop hurting, when do I no longer feel your loss? It's been a year, when does it stop?

You should be here, beside me. In person, not.. not like this; a slab of stone with your name chiseled into it.

But you're not here. You never will be again. Why am I having such a hard time accepting this? Why?

It was me who found you, after all. My hands that felt your slender neck for a pulse, my fingers that pried your eyelids back, only to find dulled violet orbs staring lifelessly back at me. My voice that sobbed and pleaded for the dream, the nightmare, to end.

But it wasn't a dream, was it?

Why, Duo, why? That's all I want to know now - why. You were doing so much better, putting the ghosts of your past to rest, coming to realize that you were loved, deserved to be loved. And wanted. You were so wanted in so many ways. I thought you knew that. I thought you could see it, feel it, sense it, from all of us.

You have no idea what you meant to us, how much you meant to all of us.

I bet you thought Wufei would rant and rail about how dishonorable it was to take ones own life. He didn't though. He just... he didn't say a word, Duo. I've hardly seen Wufei since... He walked away from the service and threw himself into the Preventers. He's running, hiding... just like you used to. I'm scared for him.

Trowa and Quatre were... well, they had each other to lean on. Still do. But it's not the same between them. There's something missing, Trowa said, just last week. A part of each of them has... died, was buried with you.

God, Duo, why? Why did you feel you had to hide behind that fucking happy facade? Why did you tell me things were 'okay' when they weren't? I was there for you, always. Wasn't it you who told me 'there's nothing we can't handle, as long as we're together'?

When I couldn't see the a life beyond the end of the war, you were there to show me what was waiting. When I struggled to learn how to express what I was feeling, you were there holding me as my tears soaked us both. When I was frustrated or confused, you were always there helping me sort everything out. Why couldn't you let me do that for you? Why?

I've hated you, been angry at you for leaving me here. Maybe if I understood what made you think death was the only solution I could have dealt with everything better. But I don't understand, and never will, because you were too selfish to share, you bastard.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I just... If I had one wish right now, it would be for you to come back and explain it all to me. Just that, explain why taking a bottle of pills was the best solution, then you could go away again. I think... I could accept it all then, if I knew why. //

"Heero?" The soft call of his name pulled the blue-eyed man's head around. Trowa, taller than he had been when the war ended, stood a few feet away. The distance couldn't hide the shimmer of unshed tears pooling in his green eyes. "Time to go."

Warm, strong hands brushed against the cold headstone beneath them. Fingers gently traced the name of the one it memorialized, the one who's demons stole the laughter that lit the lives of many.

"Why, Tro?"

The auburn-haired man gazed down at his friend. The tear stained and swollen face that looked up at him... he should be used to this new look now; it was all he'd seen for a year. His lover's death had seemed to suck his friends control away, laying him bare and helpless to the onslaught of emotions and questions that followed.

"I don't know, Heero." Same answer, every week, neither the question nor its answer ever varied.

"No one does," the Japanese man whispered, rising to stand on shaking legs. Three hours sitting on rain-soaked grass left him feeling chilled, half frozen. He barely noticed, accustomed to missing warmth in his life, the warmth in his soul. "No one does."

Silently, as was their nature, the two men started to walk away. One stopped, turned, casting sad eyes upon the stone behind. Fingers lifted to lips which pressed a light kiss to the slender digits. A gentle blow cast the kiss forward, landing, so the man imagined, on the inscription etched beneath the name:

Love does not end with death.

// I will always love you, Duo. I hope... hope you can rest in peace now. Sleep easy, my love, wait for me. //