*...* denotes thought
------ lines between these symbols connotate a flashback
******* means that action is happening at the same time as above passage

Note: When the letters are being read, each section will be told in that pilot's POV.
Oh,and I'm in a really depressed mood right now so this is gonna be angsty... >.< and perhaps a little hard to understand. Sorry about the language in it.

Gundam Forest Book 1 Part 2

Duo and Wufei sat quietly in the brightly lit kitchen of the Winner estate, their solemn mood contrasting with sunny morning outside. In a grunt of disapproval, Wufei had angrily drawn the window curtains closed, attempting to block out nature's impassive beauty, but the drapery just wasn't thick enough to deter the light.

Wufei's face was pinched, the strain of the past few days showing themselves on his visage, marring his physical perfection. His hair was pulled back into its usual low ponytail, one that looked like it may have been tightened in spite or defiance.

His companion was unusually quiet, his eyes cast downwards, his fingers listlessly playing with the spoon in his bowl. The cereal he usually gobbled up enthusiastically was sitting in the warming milk, quickly turning to nauseating mush.

Duo's hair was messily gathered up into a loose ponytail high on the back of his head. The normally shining chestnut strands were dull and lifeless, as if the owner didn't have the time or energy to properly maintain the mane. A loose necklace hung around his throat, the silver cross catching and holding the rays of sunshine.

The conspicuous absence of a gold and silver ring, and the sudden, blatant reappearance of abovementioned cross would have normally drawn out a derisive comment from the staid Chinese, but not even he had the heart (or the death wish) to remark on it.

Both of the young men sported bandages and other various first aid knick knacks as evidence of the brutality of OZ soldiers. Both were clad in soft appearing pairs of cotton outfits that Quatre had thoughtfully provided earlier.

With a sigh and a wince, Duo pushed away from the small, informal kitchen table and stood up with his bowl in his hand. Wufei opened his new paper wide, burying his head deeply into it, his slender fingers tightening their grip on the flimsy pages. He was so preoccupied with his own misery and haunting shame that his eyes didn't even focus on the written words.

A sudden yell from above jerked both of their heads and attention in the direction from whence it rang. The cry was filled with such horror and terror that the two immediately bolted from their positions, ignoring the protesting cries from their bodies, and headed towards the main staircase.

They didn't heed the paper that fell strewn across one end of the table, draping over the side onto the linolieum floor. Nor did they concern themselves with the bowl that clattered to the tabletop, the mushy contents swishing out and splashing across the table to mix with the paper, turning it into a pulpy mess.

Perhaps if they had taken the time to look back, they would have noticed the rapidly degenerating headline of the paper that read, PEACE TREATY BETWEEN OZ AND COLONIES SIGNED AT MIDNIGHT COUNCIL.

*************

Trowa finally reached the bedroom of his invalid lover. His normally passive face was nearly white with shock and dismay, his green eyes bright with a fever spawned by the unknown.

Quatre stirred on his bed, his sleepy eyes opening slowly as Trowa banged into the room. He fuzzily murmured, "W -wuz's goin' on, Trowa?"

Trowa, panting from his dash across the estate, attempted to catch his breath and held up four pieces of paper and a necklace. As he stood heaving in the doorway, he said in a stunned voice, "Heero -"

*Heero? Why is he - oh yeah, that's right.* Quatre's muzzy mind finally remembered that he had sent Trowa to Heero's room after convincing his green eyed lover that something was wrong.

And seeing Trowa's shattered composure, something was VERY wrong.

Quatre winced and attempted to sit up under his own power and immediately regretted doing so. He sucked in his breath in a sharp gasp as fiery pain raced up and down his sides. His breath hitched in his lungs, leaving the poor blond wheezing for air.

Trowa immediately spurned into action and leapt to the other boy's side, helping to prop him up on a soft mountain of pillows. Quatre gave him a weak smile, his face still white with pain.

"A-arigato, Trowa."

Quatre looked at his concerned lover and gave another reassuring grin. Then his expression turned worrisome. "Trowa," he started quietly. "What did you find in Heero's room?"

That brought Trowa out of his trance and he bent down to retrieve the papers that had slipped from his hand. Trowa sifted through the envelopes and then handed one of them to the puzzled blond.

"What's this?"

"I'm guessing they're notes from Heero," came the quiet reply.

"Notes? Why would he need notes? Unless..." Quatre's head whipped upwards and his wide blue eyes searched Trowa's face, unasked questions surfacing in his semi frantic search.

Trowa's stoic expression was answer enough, but the brunette gave voice to the affirmative. "He's gone."

"Who's gone?"

Trowa and Quatre's head whipped around at the sudden voice that came from the open bedroom door. Their gazes met those of a curious and questioning Duo and Wufei. Duo looked back and forth between them as he waited for an answer. Hearing none come forth, he repeated it as he and Wufei moved further into the room.

"Again, who's gone?"

Quatre bit his lip and turned his face away, refusing to meet Duo's gaze. Trowa looked hastily at the blond before facing the Deathscythe pilot and his other lover. He squared his shoulders and said quietly, "Heero's left."

Duo's shoulders stiffened at the mention of his absent lover's name, his expression going shuttered. In a flat voice he said, "Oh. Nice of him to tell us."

"He did tell us. He just didn't do it before he left."

Wufei and Duo watched with neutral expressions as Trowa walked over to them and handed them each a single, folded sheet of paper. Their names were scribbled on the fronts respectively.

Trowa stood near Duo for a moment before he quietly said, "Duo, he also left this."

Duo's eyes studied the folded paper in his hands before he turned his gaze to the object that Trowa was holding out in his hand. As his eyes fell onto the dangling object, they widened with uncontrollable shock and dismay.

Numbly, Duo took the necklace from Trowa, his voice mute. Trowa turned and walked back to Quatre's side, sitting gently down on the bed, trying not to jarr his battered ribs. The four boys stared at one another, varying degrees of emotions splayed one each countenance.

No one could remember who was the first one to act, but as if by some hidden signal, each turned their attention to the letters in their hands. Simultaneously, they opened them.

***************

(Quatre's Letter)

Quatre -

I wish to convey my thanks for the past months of hospitality. For the past few months I actually had someplace that I could call my home.

That's the first time I have ever been able to do so.

But now it seems that my welcome has finally worn thin and that it is time for me to move on.

I expected as much to happen sooner or later.

As I am sure you will all eventually learn, peace was declared last night around midnight. The war is over, for now, and there is no longer any need for the soldiers that fought in it. We have been able to achieve the goals that we set out for ourselves.

So be happy, Quatre. Revel in the peace we have spilt blood to obtain. We've earned it. Do not worry about me being alone. I have been alone all my life and I will continue to be alone.

I must tell you, even with the mermaid flesh, I never truly expected to survive the end of the war. Maybe that's why I always tried to kill myself even though I knew I probably wouldn't die. Dr. J said that the flesh is not infallible, I just have to find the way.

                                                                                           - Heero

I felt tears spring into my eyes and did nothing to halt their burning path. My hands clenched into fists, crumpling the thin piece of paper in them. My chest ached and burned, not just from my fractured ribs, but from a friendship that I may have shattered irreparably.

Regret blossomed in my soul, pairing with the knowledge that my foolish pride had caused this division with one of my closest friends. And now it was too late to fix it. He was gone.

At the sharp gasps that filled the room, I looked up to see the others having similar reactions. Trowa's face near my own was white, all color having drained from his skin, leaving the black and blue bruise to stand out even more starkly.

Wufei's face had also blanched, although he was taking it the best out of all of us. His hands were gripping the paper tightly, but even I could see the anguish and torment his letter had provoked in his composure. My proud lover must have suffered a severe blow to have such a reaction. He must be suffering more than he is letting on to us, his pride would not have allowed anything less.

And Duo...

Duo's face is the worst.

I have seen many twisted emotions and convictions through my short years as a Gundam pilot. I have seen everything from true happiness to heartbreaking sorrow. But never have I seen the look that crosses Duo's face.

I have never seen such a look of despair. He looks like he's lost everything that he's just realized he had. But there's something else there too. It almost looks like... loathing?

At Heero???

No...

It's aimed at himself...

No, I will not allow this. The loss of one friend and ally is bad enough. The loss of another is unacceptable.

I am about to speak when something interrupts me.

It is Rashid and he has the most terrifying expression on his face. I never thought that I would see true sorrow on the strong man's countenance.

He whispers, "Quatre-san." His tone makes me flinch.

I answer with, "Yes, Rashid?"

"There's been an accident."

*************

(Trowa's letter)

Trowa -

Out of all the pilots, I guess you and I have the most similar pasts. We certainly were the same quiet bastards that refused to let anyone in. Refused until certain other bakas wormed their way into our regard. I think you were the one that I could relate to the most.

I guess that's what made your reaction the hardest to bear.

There's a saything that goes like this: 'you say everything when you say nothing at all'.

I guess that's how I felt when you wouldn't even look at me.

But that's in the past and there's no more reason to dwell on it. Didn't I tell you that I wasn't worth emulating? Do you remember me telling you that after I self destructed after the battle with Zechs?

I am glad that you have found happiness with Quatre and Wufei. You deserve it. I guess you have found the home and the name that you have been searching for all your life. So never let them go.

Myself... I must find out where I belong. Maybe I'll go searching for others who have eaten the flesh that I have. Surely there are others. Or maybe I'll try to search for a mermaid. If anyone can tell me how to die, surely the creature that granted this cursed existence can. I have forever to try.

I just have one favor to ask of you. Please watch over Duo. He needs someone to be with him, to give him support and help him find his faith.

I can no longer help him.

                                                                                           - Heero

I am shocked.

There's nothing else to say.

I never knew that he held my regard with such high esteem. I never knew my opinion mattered to the silent pilot so much.

Or did I?

Did I subconsciously know that he did?

Is that why I so brutally rejected him when he sought our understanding and compassion? Did I intentionally want to hurt him, like I had thought we had been hurt? Been betrayed?

I no longer know.

I wonder if he means to die now. Does he really hold his own life with so little regard after all we've tried to teach him? Then again, perhaps we destroyed all that a few days ago with our reaction. Shattered all the hard teachings of the past few years in a matter of hours.

I am ashamed.

Ashamed of both my actions and my decisions. But it's too late for regret. There's nothing we can do now. All I can do is help to fulfill what I guess I could consider as his last wish.

As I begin to gather my wits and return to my fellow pilots, I notice that Quatre's body has grown rigid beside me. I turn to look at his face and then I notice that his attention is focused on the door. I also turn to see Quatre's main bodyguard, Rashid, standing there with a troubled expression.

I open my mouth to speak but he speaks first.

"Quatre-san," he says.

I feel Quatre flinch even as he says, "Yes, Rashid?"

The older man says softly, "There's been an accident."

***************

(Wufei's letter)

Wufei -

You spoke passionately about justice and honor, two subjects you often attempt to emulate in your dealings with OZ and with life in general. You reprimanded my existence as having neither, that I was dishonorable in fighting when I knew I could not die. Let me ask a few questions of you.

Was it honorable when Dr. J fed me and five others the flesh without telling us what it was?

Was it justice that they all died horrible deaths while I alone continued to live on?

Was it just that for two years I was subjected to experiments, ones that would probably turn your hair white, to satisfy Dr. J's morbid curiosity?

Was it right when I was forced to choose between either fighting for the colonies or remaining Dr. J's little test subject?

Was it justice that I was denied the opportunity to live the life of a normal human being?

Honor and justice are easily twisted and manipulated to fit the definition of whoever wields them. It is very easy to lose sight of what you are striving for in the heat of battle. It is simple to lose one's beliefs and ideals when sacrificed for one's pride.

Do not become guilty of what you so desperately fight against.

I am leaving, so this battle between the two of us will have to come to a draw. Heal yourself Wufei. Heal your heart and heal your mind. Let Trowa and Quatre heal you with their love. Accept it and don't let your pride destroy you.

Pride is a horrible thing. I should know.

Find your peace, Wufei. And if we meet in the future, try not to shoot me again. Even if you do not stay dead, dying still hurts like hell.

                                                                                           - Heero

Damn Yuy.

Damn him for twisting my words and my beliefs.

Damn him.

And damn me.

I have too much pride, I know that. But it's easier to ignore when you think no one else sees it too. Easier to deny.

I guess I no longer have that luxury. It seems the 'Perfect Soldier' has been able to see behind my facade as well.

I know I was wrong. I know that Heero was not to blame for his predicament.

And I suppose we should have all been grateful to have something immortal fighting alongside us. That way at least the battle for peace would never have been lost.

But we didn't... Iie, I didn't see it... until it was too late...

And now the chance for forgiveness is gone.

The way my letter is written makes me wonder what he wrote to the others. Did he write to them this abruptly? I doubt it.

He knows I have a backbone. He knows I won't be hurt by harsh words. He knows that the only way to get through my pride is with the blunt truth. But still... what did he write the others?

I look up from the letter, not realizing that I'm still gripping it with knuckles turned white with tension. Forcing myself to relax, I look toward the bed where my two lovers are sitting. They are staring at me??

No... they're staring behind me.

What???

I turn around and see Rashid behind me. That older servant of my blond lover is towering in the doorway, filling it with his large frame. I am about to dismiss his presence when I suddenly notice he has the strangest expression on his face.

I frown, focusing on the here and now, instead on the might have beens. I cannot change the past, I can only focus on the future.

I hear Quatre speak, and as cowardly as it is, I am glad that he does instead of myself. As much as the other pilots have helped to teach me to be more humane, I still rather retreat back into my shell of solitude.

It's pathetic.

But it's familiar.

And it's safe.

Right??

I'm pulled out from my musings by Rashid's last statement.

"There's been an accident."

**************

(Duo's letter)

Duo -

In my life I have never been able to express the true depths of my emotions, having lived, no existed, for far too long keeping them hidden until I forgot HOW to feel. I grew up living in the shell that was my life, content in my solitude, living the lie that had eventually become my truth.

And then you took all that away from me.

You forced your cheerful self into my life, worming your way into my head before I could stop you, wrapping that infernal braid of yours around a heart I had successfully kept trapped and hidden.

You taught me passion...

You taught me life...

You taught me love...

I guess it was only fitting that you also taught me loss and apathy as well...

It's too bad you can't teach me how to die...

But then... no one can, can they?

And now the chaos that we live in has become even more complicated. I wish it could remain simple. But I guess it can't, and I'm sorry. Sorry for everything that I've said and for anything that I have forgotten to say too.

I wish I could tell you this face to face, but there's no time left. And I think it's better for us both if we do not see each other. This way, there's no more hurt, no more pain.

I'm leaving, and I won't be coming back... ever.

And if some antiquitated notion of pride or responsibility goes trickling through your mind to find me, don't bother.

Don't waste your time or energy trying to find me.

I'm not worth it.

I am exactly what you said I was. I am an abomination. Something unnatural, something horrid.

Something damned.

Damned by myself...

By others...

By Dr. J...

By...

So I'm leaving. I'm removing myself from the equation of pride and suspicion. I'm going to find my so called destiny, whatever it may be.

Dr. J once told me that there is a way for those who gain immortality from mermaid flesh to die, he just never told me how. But then I guess I have all of eternity to find out. But for some reason, I suspect my search may be in vain.

Because not even death wants me.

God be with you, Shinigami... for I cannot be.

                                                                                           - Heero [1]

Heero...

He's gone...

He's left me...

I never knew... Iie, I never thought that my rejection would hurt him so much... I was too wrapped up in my own self-pity.

And now...

He's given up...

I stare at the letter, the familiar spiky and bold handwriting that I see but do not understand. I feel the burning in my eyes, I can feel the tears running unchecked down my face. I do nothing to stop them, nothing to wipe away the offending moisture.

My words, etched on the paper, physical echoes of the words I had screamed at him with anger and confusion, stare back up at me, mocking me and my pain.

I hadn't meant the words, I know that now. But back then I was too confused with pain, terror, and... fear that I blurted them out, trying to form a breach between the two of us. Trying to place a rift to separate us until I could come to terms with all the terrifying revelations of the past few days.

A rift that had just turned into a canyon.

I hadn't meant the words... but I still said them...

And even worse, Heero had believed them...

The proof was in the pudding... or in the letter as it was.

And in the ring.

The ring...

He had taken off our ring.

How could he??

I laugh at myself inside. Why shouldn't he? I took off mine, didn't I? I did it and I let him know. I let them all know by putting the cross back on.

Why did I??

Maybe to lash out at him? Anything to hurt him? I no longer know.

I put the cross back on... a symbol that I no longer had any faith in... an empty knick knack.

As empty as my soul now...

And who was to blame??

No one but myself...

I did it... I drove him away...

I drove away the one I love... [2]

I dimly hear Rashid talking to Quatre, some distant part of my mind still connected to the physical plane of my body.

"There's been an accident."

An accident? Oh... Heero must have tried to kill himself again...

But, he can't die? Right??

Yet, he's still trying...

I can feel darkness creeping up on me, threatening to overwhelm my senses. I give in thankfully, gratefully. I don't want to face reality any longer.

As I give in, I can feel my body falling down to the ground. I can hear the worried cries of my friends and Rashid.

I ignore them, instead I focus on the welcoming blackness that is sweeping through my mind... the letter and the ring falling from my lax hands.

The letter...

Heero...

You're wrong, Heero...

Death does want you... even needs you...

I love you, Heero...

*****************

Ensign Jackson grumbled as he pulled his med cycle to the side of the highway, the rising smoke marking the accident site. Even as he prepared to scale down the side of the cliff to the rocks below, he still complained to himself about this assignment. Just two days on the job and he already hated it. They were severely understaffed and overworked. And he was just learning that.

Some idiot biker had gone off the cliff only to fall nearly 250 miles down. It was obvious that it had been some sort of suicide attempt, at least that's what the witness had said.

And it was just his luck that he had been on call in this area.

Now he was supposed to retrieve the bloody corpse of the biker. There was no way he could have survived the fall.

Jackson just hoped there was enough of the body left to make retrieval somewhat easy. It was too early in the morning to be scraping someone's shattered remains off of the rocks below.

Strapping his communicator to his belt and heaving the retrieval kit over his shoulder, Jackson started scaling down the cliffside, taking extra care of the sharp, jagged rocks that jutted out from the side.

After awhile he was nearing the base of the cliffside. He looked down and saw the still smoking and burning remains of a bike. The metal was twisted and blackened beyond recognition, although the license plate of the bike was mysteriously still readable.

Coming to a halt by the wreckage, Jackson looked around and noticed the rocks were at the far end of a small piece of land of lay at the base of the cliff. Swinging his way over, he managed to land on the sand, grateful to be on solid ground.

*I'd better call this in.*

Activating his communicator, Jackson called the license plate number in for verification. The next of kin needed to be notified.

Having done that, the ensign began looking around for a body. He was almost hoping that the crashing waves would have taken it out to sea for fish bait. That at least would save him time and effort of having to bag some dead man's remains.

However, luck wasn't with him.

He saw the trail of blood first.

A massive pool of dark, rust brown colored liquid that was quickly drying in the sun. As his eyes registered the amount of blood that splattered the rocks, his nose finally hit upon the smell.

He gagged.

Although it was recently fresh and not too old, the combination of blood and the heat of the sun was doing enough to cause a horrific odor to waft upwards. The protein in the blood was beginning to rot.

*Damn, damn, damn, damn.*

Jackson cursed fluidly as he picked his way among the rocks, following the trail of blood. It was steadily growing in quantity and mass. A few feet more and the ground was literally covered in the stuff.

Keeping his footing, he really didn't want to slip and get his uniform filthy with the muck on the ground, he picked his way until he reached the object of his search.

The young man's body lay on it's front, the head faced away from Jackson's eyes. For that he was grateful. If he was lucky he'd be able to clean up the site without having to look in a dead man's eyes. He'd leave that for the coroner.

The body was in really good shape for a 250 foot fall onto jagged rocks. Jackson had been expecting at least one or two severed limbs, but it looked like everything was still attached.

The dark brown hair of the dead man was stiff with dried blood, but the wind still blew a few loose strands around here and there. The legs and arms of the body were covered in blood and nothing else. The man's clothes were shredded in spots, soaked with blood in others, attempting to hide the true colors. Jackson guessed at one time the shirt may have been green.

He sighed and set his kit down. He'd cover the body in a body bag and attempt to haul it up the cliffside using his ropes and pulleys. But first he better call in and tell the clinic not to wait for a IC patient.

"Base, this is Jackson, over."

"Go ahead Jackson, over."

"At the site, there's nothing here. Patient's down, over."

"Retrieve and bring in. We've gotten a hold of the next of kin from the plate match already, over."

"Sure, over."

Putting his communicator away, Jackson looked up and sighed. be here hauling this guy's carcass up for the next few hours. *They're not paying me enough for this.*

He heaved his shoulders and prepared to get to work.

He was not prepared for a blur of movement out of his peripheral vision.

Nor was he prepared for the strong hands that wrapped around his throat.

Just as he heard an audible snap, his last thought was, *Aw, shit.*

TBC...

[1] this letter is a combo of some lines I read from a book somewhere that I remembered, a song I heard once, and my own depressed mind

[2] this is one of my fav quotes from FY

Question reality
   - unknown
ALANA: doesn't that mean you have to accept reality before you can question it?

 

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