Author: Merula

Pairings: 1x2

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Yaoi, angst, sap

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine.

The Favor Part 1

There's a knock at my front door.

Hardly anyone knocks at the front door. My neighbors and friends come around the back, they know that's where my 'office' is, right where I can look out the window and see the small patch of grass and the trees that's surrounded by the mass of concrete that makes up the city. I can see what we killed all those people to save.

I open the door, expecting a door to door salesman or someone trying to sell me on their religion, and find Heero.

He looks good. It's been five, maybe six years since any one has seen him. He's gotten older, filled out a little.

Looks pretty damn good really.

"Heero," I say, and stand to the side, ushering him in. "Always a pleasure. Welcome to my humble abode."

"Duo," he shakes his head. "Anyone else would ask where the hell I've been."

"I'm not anyone," I shrug and close the door. "Besides, you'll tell me eventually. I will ask -what do I owe the visit to? Pleasure or business?"

"Business," Heero answers flatly. "It won't be a pleasure."

I walk down the hallway, Heero padding silently behind me. "Yeah, it hasn't been a pleasure for quite a while has it?"

"That was your choice."

I sigh, not wanting to have this discussion again. Not so soon.

But I do want to have it. I've been waiting to have it.

But not like this. Heero is obviously not in the right frame of mind for an explanation. Maybe he'll mellow out once we take care of his business.

Yeah, right.

"You want something to drink? Coffee? Soda? Beer?"

"You don't drink alcohol."

"I do these days." I push open the door to the kitchen.

"I'm fine thanks." Heero sits down in the chair I point him to. I grab a soda from the fridge. I'd love to have a beer right now, but I also know that I'll need a clear head to deal with Heero.

I sit down across from him at my dinky little table, prying open the cap. "So, why are you here?" I take a slug from the bottle.

"I want you to kill me."

It's an effort not to spray the soda across the table at him.

"I'm sorry." I shake my head. "I think I heard you wrong."

"I want you to kill me. You're Shinigami aren't you?"

He's serious. Damn it. I should've grabbed the beer.

"I was Shinigami." I reach across the table and open the cookie jar in the center. I pull out the package of cigarettes and my lighter. "I haven't been Shinigami for a long time." I light one up as Heero looks at me disapprovingly.

"Those things will kill you."

"Then you need to have one."

"Duo," he sighs, exasperated, running his fingers through his bangs. "I'm serious."

I didn't think he wasn't. That's why I'm smoking this damn thing after not having one for months.

"Why don't you just do it yourself?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"One of the last things J did was to send me a little present. I was to open it after the war was over."

"And..."

"It was an inhibitor."

"And you took it?"

"I thought it was a suicide pill."

"Did you even hesitate?" I have to ask that question. I know the answer. Heero would never hesitate. He never had. It was amazing he'd made it this long really.

"Of course not."

J had known that Heero wouldn't. Though keeping Heero alive had never been at the top of his list. What had he been thinking? Planning?

"And it wasn't a quick out. So let's consider that Heero. Even Dr. Psycho didn't think you should off yourself after the war- if you survived." I take a deep drag on my cigarette and chuckle. "Nice move on his part."

"Shut up." He snaps. "Are you going to help me or not?" What a way to ask a guy for a favor.

I still don't know why he's asking me.

"Why should I? Can't you find another way?"

"I've tried. I've done every dangerous never-come-back from job you can imagine. None of them worked." His voice is flat and level.

"Really?"

He begins to list them.

Good lord Heero, I think, as I take another drag on the cigarette as he goes on and on in that monotone. I've been wanting to see you. And if I had known that all this time you were throwing yourself in harm's way over and over- would I have swallowed my pride and come after you? Would it have mattered? Would you have listened to me finally?

Heero finishes his list and sits silently. Waiting.

"Maybe someone is trying to tell you something Heero. Maybe you're supposed to be alive for some reason."

I'm not stupid enough to tell him that maybe he's supposed to be alive for me.

I don't believe in fairy tales anymore.

"I don't have anything to live for."

"Then you need to find something to live for." I counter.

Heero looks at me for a long moment. "I've tried. I've found nothing that makes me want to keep on going. So are you going to help me Shinigami?"

"I can't." I shrug and gesture at my surroundings. "I kill you and I have to leave this nice little townhouse. My upstairs neighbors will be terrified of me. The kids will stop coming around to talk to the neighborhood writer." I drop the cigarette into my empty bottle. "You ever read any of my books Heero?"

"No." I'm not surprised. If he had I doubt he would've come here.

"Why not?"

"Does it matter?" Heero takes a deep breath and gets to his feet. "I'd better get going."

"Are you going to ask one of the others?"

"No. You were the only one that I thought might do it."

"Why? After..." I stop and bite the inside of my lip.

Heero isn't fooled. He meets my gaze and I'm not surprised to see the cold Perfect Soldier glare on his face.

"I thought you'd want to finish the job you started." He turns and walks out of my kitchen, leaving me behind.

Again.

I put my head in my hands.

Fuck. That could've gone better.

Though I'm not really sure how. Heero might only have been happy if I had agreed to kill him.

My front door slams. That's Heero. Always so emotional with inanimate objects. It's just me he can't deal with.

Damn it. I waited years for the opportunity to see Heero again. To explain. And he threw me off balance like always. Made me forget all the things I wanted to say.

His last words run through my head again.

The job I started.

I started.

Shit. I get to my feet. I can catch him. I know I can. And this time I'll be able to say what I need to... he'll listen...

There is a loud screech outside- the sound of tires skidding on pavement.

A scream.

A thump.

More screams.

Oh god.

I'm on my steps before I know it, my upstairs neighbor running down hers, screaming her daughter's name at the top of her lungs.

Wendy is sitting on the pavement, screaming her five-year-old lungs out. A car is parked slantwise across the street, a large dent in the hood. My neighbor from down the street, the owner of the car, a sixteen year old who we have told numerous times to slow down on this street is leaning against the hood, sobbing...

"I didn't see her! Or him! I didn't! I didn't mean to hurt anyone!"

Sirens are beginning to wail in the distance.

I get closer and see the final actor in this little drama.

Heero is lying in the street, nearly at Wendy's feet.

She is still screaming.

Her mom scoops her into an embrace as I kneel at Heero's side, reaching for a pulse.

He's bloody... I don't want to think about his injuries.

I touch his throat and his fingers grab mine. I jump.

Blue eyes blink at me and I smile back.

"Still alive." I tell him. "Shinigami knows you still have something to live for. He's not taking you yet."

He doesn't answer me, but I see the expression that flashes over his face.

Disappointment.

It hurts me to see that.

But I also know, for the first time ever, that I can fix it. That I mean enough to him to be able to help.

"And I know what it is."

His eyebrow raises slightly and he winces. Not surprising. He's got a nice scrape along the side of his face.

His lips move.

What?

An EMT kneels on Heero's other side, begins to work over him. But his gaze is still fixed on me.

And I raise his hand to my lips, carefully avoiding the worst of the scrapes. I kiss the knuckles gently. His fingers spasm around mine.

And he smiles.

TBC...

 

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