Author: CleverYoungThief
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Suicidal tendencies, self-mutilation, yaoi lemon, language, violence
Pairing: 1x2
Archive: Gundam Wing Addiction
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Don't sue. College kids are like L2 kids; we got nothin'.
Shinigami's Claim Part 1
Heero was not exactly thrilled with the idea of driving to the new academy at three in the morning. He didn't like letting Duo drive and he especially didn't like Duo driving this morning, after what had happened with the Alliance pacifists.
This morning he felt naked, vulnerable, and he felt like driving. He felt like that wall between Heero Yuy and the Soldier was thinner than it had ever been before.
He always felt that the wall between what he was and what he was supposed to be was the weakest in the mornings, when he usually received his Missions. It was worse after a night of nightmares, but even if his sleep was dreamless, it was bad. He realized that something was wrong with him when he caught himself seriously thinking of reaching up into the front seat, grabbing the wheel from Duo, and sending the both of them into the two lanes going in the opposite direction, ripping a trail of annihilation through the early-morning traffic.
Maybe it was better that he didn't drive this morning, after all.
"Heero... uh... I..." / Goddammit, Heero, please get that look off your face. You're breakin' my fuckin' heart over here, and I bet you don't give a damn, either. /
"Nani?" Heero's eyes were cast down at the floorboard of the stolen car, flat and weary. Duo searched his face for emotion and found none. His eyes were as void as always. The battle was over. That intense concentration that usually radiated from them was gone. The fire had smoldered, and without it, he looked so... lost. As if when he wasn't fighting, he didn't know who he was, or where he came from.
Usually, those eyes were empty of emotion. But Duo thought he saw despair and desolation in them now. The look in those frigid eyes felt like a punch in the chest to him. Duo felt tears wanting to well in his own eyes, and he clenched his fists on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, pushing the sobs back in his throat.
/ Christ, Heero, if I find out who did this to you, whoever made you shut everything away like that, I'm gonna fucking slit them from gullet to groin with my switchblade, I swear on Deathscythe I will. /
"What's wrong?" Duo finally asked, as if he didn't know.
/ He killed all those people... but I thought he didn't care. Dammit, Heero... every time I start to think you're as soulless as a fuckin' machine, you do something that almost seems human. Like grieve. /
// What have I done? I've failed, that's what. I fucking failed. All those people... pacifists... like lambs at the slaughter. K'so. I snuffed their lives, and I didn't even get Treize. The destruction was useless. //
"... Mission failed." The condemning words were etched in verbal acid. Heero never lifted his head.
Duo started to try and cheer him up, hitting the gas a little. The car sped into the dark, forgiving shadows. "It was an accident, Heero. There was no way you could have known it was a trap, Khushrenada made sure of that. You know that. It was just a mistake."
/ Everybody makes mistakes, buddy. Even you. /
At the word "mistake", Heero jerked convulsively away from the reflection in the rearview mirror of Duo's soul-searching violet eyes, staring into the darkness. He could see the faint reflection of his face there, mocking him, ridiculing him with a subterfuge of youth and innocence. Child-like features, deep blue eyes, the image of naïveté itself.
That is not what Heero saw. Heero saw the bruise along his cheekbone, which would evolve into a full-fledged shiner by morning. The small gash at the edge of his hairline, the little dried streak of blood on the side of his head. He thought if he stared at that blood any longer, he would go insane. It didn't matter that it was his own. It just as easily could have belonged to someone else.
// Shimatta... the Perfect-fucking-Soldier. Masaka. Kisama... Dr. J, this is all your fault. Why couldn't you just leave me to die? Why did you have to turn me into this!? //
With a sharp inhalation, he drew his powerful arm back and shattered the illusion in a flurry of broken glass and blood. Duo's foot slammed onto the brakes in a panic, and the car began to spin out.
"Holy shit!" Duo jerked the steering wheel, taking his foot off the brakes and trying to stabilize the car. "What the fuck did you do that for?!? Jesus you scared the life outta me!!" The car swerved dangerously until Duo brought it back under control. Once the car was going again in the right direction at a stable speed, he turned his head and looked into the back seat, where Heero was watching blood drip down his arm with an unfeeling, passive wonder.
// Now it's in the open. I can see it. Just because I didn't see it before doesn't mean it wasn't there. I deserve to recognize the suffering I've caused. //
"You dumb fuck! We coulda wrecked!" Duo cried, unable to slow down his pounding heart as he slowed the car. His own blood was roaring in his ears. "I thought someone shot out our window, you idiot!" He lowered his voice a little. "Christ, Heero, you're really bleeding. What in the hell did you do that for?"
Heero felt his lips quirk slightly at the corners. // What a switch. Now he's calling me an idiot. // The smiled never reached his defeated eyes, and almost immediately faded from his mouth, too.
"The Perfect Soldier does not make mistakes," he whispered almost soundlessly to himself, turning back towards the now open car window. The cool night breeze ruffled his unruly mop of dark brown hair.
Duo heard him.
TBC...
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