Shinigami's Claim Part 3
Falling Starlight: Work with what you Have
Only a few seconds before he sunk too deep into sleep to notice it, Duo felt something foreboding tickle the back of his mind. Maybe it was the fact that Heero's hand wasn't entwined with his anymore, or maybe it was just the feeling he had had before. He could have ignored the feeling, and almost did, but his long years out on the street wouldn't let him. He came up from sleep, and as he became more alert, his apprehension grew more insistent.
He opened his eyes and looked to his right. Heero wasn't there, but the spot where he had been lying was still warm. Duo sat up, looked to the left, and he didn't see Heero in the dark, but he still sensed the Japanese pilot was in that direction.
"Heero?"
No response. He rolled out of bed, looked at where his boxers lay in a soft clump on the floor, and Solo--who had become the part of Duo that was Shinigami -- growled a gruff warning in his mind.
/ No time, buddy. Find him. Find him fast. /
He walked naked onto the balcony. Heero was there, all right, his back to Duo. He was fully dressed, standing on the rail. He said a few soft words to himself, bringing his hand to his forehead in a salute. Duo was frozen behind him in horror, the realization of what Heero was about to do paralyzing him, sure that the Japanese pilot was going to throw himself off the balcony before he had time to stop him.
Then the paralysis broke and he hurled himself across the balcony as Heero held his arms out at his sides.
~*~
The idea of killing himself was not new to Heero Yuy. He had thought about it many times before, and since he didn't even have a name, he knew that it wouldn't create a lot of waves if he did kill himself. Just another nameless soldier. Not worth much to anyone in the peace that would soon follow the war.
Before, his Missions had always kept him from going through with the act. But now that he knew the others were here, it was easier to stomach the thought of suicide. They would be there to keep fighting for the peace. With them, he was no longer as important as he had been to the Mission. Almost redundant.
He considered stabbing himself, but though it was a romantic idea, he didn't have a knife. It almost seemed to be an excessively painful way to go, as well. He had his gun, a relatively painless way to go, but then he thought of what Duo would have to wake up to. What was it that he had said: his brains drying across the wall? No. He would not do that to Duo.
// Any way you do it will still hurt him... // a timid voice in the back of his mind whispered. // So why go through with it at all? He said he would help you... //
// Because it will be better for both of us this way, // Heero answered himself firmly. // I will not distract him any further... and I will no longer have to fight. Not in the war... and not the Soldier, either. I will watch the world crumble from hell... or wherever the soulless go at their deaths. //
He remembered the fact that their dorm room was five stories above the ground, and that there was a balcony outside of their room. He smiled grimly as he started to walk towards the balcony.
// I wonder if I can fly without Wing. //
~*~
He walked carefully out onto the balcony. He was still a little unsteady on his legs. They had slept all day, and it was already night again. The digital clock by the bed read 10:12 P.M.
Heero climbed up on the rail of the balcony, holding his arms out a little to keep his balance. A breeze was blowing, but not strong enough to throw him off. His bangs ruffled slightly, and the starlight pooled in his dark eyes. Tears shone on his cheeks.
"Dr. Hannibal Jaye, salute," he whispered with a faint smile, bringing his hand up to the side of his forehead. After all the years of training, he was disobeying a direct order. Stay alive. Survive long enough to fulfill your objectives.
// The others will fulfill them for me. //
He found himself wishing, of all absurd things, that he could leave Duo a note. He wished he could tell the American to be careful. To listen to a Soldier who had finally overstepped his boundaries. He wished he could tell the others that he had come to respect them, even if he could never really open himself to them, and that talking to them had been better than listening to the run of his own thoughts. But any note he left would cast suspicion on Duo, and Heero didn't want that.
He looked over the side of the building, ignoring the dizzying vertigo, in a trancelike state. He would fly tonight. He would fly, and then he would fall. The Perfect Soldier would be at rest.
Unless there were nightmares. The thought caught him off-guard. // Iie. Onegai. Not the dreams. Not with no chance of waking up again. //
He shook his head, dispelling the thoughts. He would not fail this Mission. Heero held his arms out and started to lean forward...
Suddenly, he was jerked back from behind by his shoulder. He tumbled to the concrete, slamming his injured arm against the ground. He cried out in pain. "K'so!" He looked up into the furious violet eyes of none other than a very angry, very scared, and very naked Duo Maxwell. He gulped involuntarily.
~*~
"You... you dumb shit!"
Brilliant light exploded in Heero's head as Duo's hand--not quite a fist--slammed in a backward blow against his jaw. It was the first time, except for in practice, that Duo had ever hit him. Heero didn't lose consciousness, but he did lose the ability to get back to his feet. Duo leaned over and away from him, like an eagle holding its wings away from an animal it has caught, which is wounded but still potentially dangerous. The stars above him seemed to by in motion, running in arcs and leaving streaks of starshine behind them like the contrail of a Gundam in space. His ears were ringing.
// I didn't know Duo could hit that hard. //
Heero's temper started to rise. He felt the coldness seeping into his thoughts, fought the Soldier, and realized he was still losing. Duo didn't matter anymore, and neither did Heero's love for him. Soon, in the face of this fury, his Mission would cease to matter, too.
"Duo..." Heero surged into an upright position, growling under his breath.
Duo leaned down to him, eyes bright. "Gomen," he said quickly, a self-preservation reflex he had learned soon after becoming partners with Heero Yuy. When Heero was angry or in battle-haze, the only way to get through to him was in fast Japanese. The American then put his pale, slender hands on Heero's shoulders, kissing him softly on the lips. Heero tensed, relaxed, and the murderous light flickering in Heero's eyes faded a little.
"There," Duo said. "Now, if you want to hit me back, go ahead. As hard as you want and as many as you can. I won't hit you back. I've done all I can to help you, Heero. If you still want to do it, I'll fucking jump with you. Either way, I still love you. And last night didn't happen so you could kill yourself tonight. I just wanted to point that out."
Heero didn't say anything, but his face softened a little, from the hard mask of the Soldier into the defeated look of the lost boy behind that. The look that broke Duo's heart. Duo left one hand on Heero's shoulder, and moved the other one to rest on his chest, over his heart. He never stopped talking, and his eyes never left Heero's face.
"You know, I almost did the same thing you're thinking of a couple of times. One time I took your gun and put it against my head. Cocked it, held it there for awhile, and then took it away. Eased the safety back on and shoved it back in your bag so you wouldn't know I took it."
Heero's head cocked gently, and he looked at Duo in genuine surprise. "What stopped you from pulling the trigger?" he asked. Duo sighed and grinned a little.
"Well, I was wearing my priest's habit, and I hadn't checked the chamber," he said. "At the last second I thought that if I started to pull the trigger and the gun wasn't loaded, I'd never get up the guts to do it again... and once you shit your pants, you can never get the stink out. At least that's what Solo told me..."
But Heero had already begun to laugh, laughing hard, some species of laughter between his chilling, maniacal battle laughter and what would be normal. The sound was cracked, rough and unpracticed. Duo helped Heero up. "I'm glad you changed your mind."
"You changed it for me. Why, really?" he whispered. "Why didn't you do it?"
Duo shrugged. "Because you need me. To keep you sane." He raised an eyebrow. "If I'd have killed myself, you probably would have done something risky and stupid and died. Without me to watch your back, where would you be? I need you for the same reasons. Maybe after the war, the both of us can, like, re-examine our options. All right?"
"How did you know?"
"I just knew it. When I woke up and you were gone, I just knew it." Duo hugged him with panicky tightness, still bare skin against bare skin. Deliberately, his wide violet eyes open and totally serious, he began kissing Heero's cheeks. He had done it a couple of times on both sides before Heero realized that Duo was kissing his tears away. He took Duo by the shoulders and held him away so he could look into the American's face.
"Do you?" he asked. // Love me. //
Duo didn't have to ask what he meant. "Yes." His eyes never left Heero's cobalt ones. "And you?"
"Hai. I'll show you." He picked Duo up and carried the smaller boy back into the dorm room.
Suddenly, his arm didn't seem to hurt at all.
Duo was right. After the war, he would reconsider his options. But for now...
For now, he would work with what he had. A nightmarish war, for which the most beautiful and loving fool he had ever seen was quite a satisfactory compensation.
OWARI
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