Hah, look she is still alive. Sorry for the long absence, but computer
problems and that pesky thing called RL have been weighing me down
lately. I know I'm supposed to be working on my long forgotten Slayers
series Secret Games, but that's been put on hold until the voices in my
head stop throwing nothing but GW at me. Sorry to all I'm
inconveniencing.
To all those whose fanfics I was reading before I dissappeared, I'm doing
a really big catch-up job and it's taking me longer than normal. -_-;;
Sorry 'bout that. So Morgan, (if you're reading this) I am still
reading!! It's just taking me longer that it's supposed to...*sigh*
Anyway, onto the fanfic which makes this not so spammish.
----
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters are not mine. They belong to
Sunrise, Bandai, and the gods who created G-Wing (which are not me). I'm
just borrowing them for a moment, but do not intend to make any sort of
profit off the writing. The song is "Down So Long" by Jewel and seeing
as I'm not that song-goddess, I don't lay any claim to it.
*Warning* This is a slightly citrus scented fanfic that features yaoi or
male x male relationships. If you don't like that sort of thing, I
suggest you don't read on. Also, this fanfic takes place about four to
five years after the TV and OVA series have ended, by keeping that in
mind, please excuse anything you might see as being OOC. Thank you for
your time.
Lucky Sevens
By MurasakiKaze
Song: Down So Long
Sung by: Jewel
//Sun sets 'cross the ocean
I'm a thousand miles from anywhere\\
Crashing waves were such a calming sound. Something you just didn't get
on the colonies. That and watching the sun set, changing the blue sky
into a rosy pink and purple combination. It was always so perfect here
and yet so marred at the same time. Knowing that you were alone in the
world happened to do that to you. It made every single one of his
moments marred underneath the glossy varnish of assumed beauty.
How was it that he had ended up alone after all this? After the war.
After the friendships. After all the damn flirting he had done. He was
still alone in all of this. Hilde had stuck around for a few years, then
she met someone and just kinda disappeared off the face of the planet.
Maybe she had left the planet. He had gotten a letter from her a few
months after she left with a postmark from one of the colonies. But it
had seemed like it was more of a vacation than a new home.
//My pocketbook and my heart both just got stolen
And the sun act like she don't even care\\
He had left the colonies seven years ago after the incident. It was too
painful for him to stay at L2 knowing all the memories that were lodged
in that small house next to the junkyard. He was twenty-three now and
had absolutely no clue what he was doing. Sure, he had a business down
here. And yes, he made enough money to keep the beachfront home. And
maybe the new Mustang sitting in the driveway was fun to drive, but he
wasn't really happy and his life had no real direction. It'd been like
that for awhile now. Him just moving along and surviving. He shook his
head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, content to just listen to the
waves crash.
>From down the beach he thought he heard an alarm go off, but it couldn't
be.
.:: Just concentrate on the waves and calm yourself, Duo. It'll be
alright after tonight. ::.
He kept walking until a gunshot reached his ears. The guards. They only
shot when confronted with another gun. Something was definitely wrong.
Racing along the beach now. Running for all he was worth. The sand flew
behind him as the gunshots grew louder and more frequent. A gunbattle.
He remembered these from the war. He'd been in a lot of them. Too many
to count. They'd been fun at the time, but all the lives he had taken.
Ah, well, it was the job.
*BLAM*
His duty.
*BLAM*
His life.
*BLAM*
Screams of pain. Then no more shots. He skidded to a halt just below
the wooden stairway leading up from the beach to his home. It was
silent. The kind of silence that always followed a fight. The silence
that came when Death settled on the arena, whisking away the losers and
brandishing the victors with yet another medal. He had always loved that
part, but now, he was afraid for who was the winner and who was the
loser. Slowly, he began to mount the steps.
//The wind blows cold when you reach the top
It feels like someone's face is stuck to the bottom of my shoe\\
One. Two. Three.
.:: Who could have snuck past all the guards? ::.
Four. Five. Six.
.:: I trained them myself with the same stuff that Dr. G trained me in.
::.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
.:: Who could have snuck past them? ::.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
.:: They're the best in the business. My training. Their intellect.
::.
Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.
.:: Who? ::.
Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen.
.:: Who? ::.
Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one.
The top of the stairs. Seven bodies lying on the ground in pools of
blood. Dark crimson blood that was turning darker as the sun set behind
him. His shadow, the shadow of Shinigami, fell upon the newly laid
corpses. All of them his guards. All of them dead from bullet wounds.
And, as the investigators would tell him later, dead from bullets from
their own guns. They had all shot each other trying to get to someone
else.
"Any leads on who did this?" His voice was cold and instantly sank into
a business-like tone. So unlike the youthful voice he once had. The one
he had before the incident.
"None, Maxwell-san. We'll tell the papers it was an unknown assailant
who got them. A damn good one too from the looks of it. Not one shot
ever touched the demon. But, it'll just go down as them dying heroically
in an effort to save you. Don't worry, Maxwell-san, your name won't be
tarnished," the officer assured him.
"Don't lie to the papers. No covering up what happened, got it?" He had
never lied in his life. He wouldn't start now.
The officer nodded. "Right, Maxwell-san. Right."
But the officer lied.
The newspapers made the scene worse than it was. Saying it was a
bloodbath where an unknown assailant had attacked and murdered all the
guards. Even the papers were trying to cover up what had really
happened. Everyone wanted to cover up the accident. No one wanted the
truth except him. The others just wanted to forget. Just like he had
wanted to forget the incident...the one that took it all away from him.
//I got a plastic Jesus, a cordless telephone for every corner of my room
Got everybody but you telling me what to do\\
Seven months passed since the accident and he was sitting in the living
room, once again watching the sun set through the huge bay windows. Once
again alone. A fire was burning in the fireplace, sending it's orange
rays bouncing off the red wine sitting in the glass on the table. He
always had a glass of red wine on the anniversary. Even if he didn't
want to remember, he had to. In memory and in punishment. He had to
punish himself for what he did.
And the wine was red like blood.
Bringing the glass of merlot to his lips, he sipped it slowly, watching
the embers burn in the fireplace just as the sun set over the ocean
waters. The firelight made the black furniture glitter. The leather
couch and black marble coffee table glowed. As did the black glass
ashtray, which held a single cigarette, still burning. To say he liked
the dismal color was an understatement. He wasn't a Goth or anything, it
was just his shade. What else did you expect Shinigami, the God of
Death, to wear? Hot pink? He chuckled a bit at that thought, then fell
silent again.
It wouldn't be long now. He would have ended it seven months ago, but
the whole ordeal with the guards had stopped him. Too much publicity and
too many snooping reporters had kept him from any semblence of privacy.
Now would be the time. His time for the final judgement, the final
punishment. It was what he had wanted for so long. To end it all. To
make it all go away.
.:: Soon, it'll be all over. Soon. ::.
Then he could truly punish himself for losing the one thing he had needed
his whole life those seven years ago. Reaching into the drawer on the
side table, he drew out a small automatic handgun and laid it in his lap.
He ran his hand lovingly over the smooth metal of the barrel and grabbed
a clip from the drawer. It was a relic from the wars. Well, not a
relic. Rather it was a souvenier of his glory days piloting Deathscythe
and running around with the other pilots. How long had it been since
they had disappeared? Seven, eight years? Around the same time as the
incident?
"Has is really been that long?"
No one answered him.
"I suppose it has...hasn't it."
No one agreed with him, nor did they disagree.
"Yeah...Wufei was first. He vanished without a trace. Then Quatre and
Trowa evaporated into thin air. Zechs and Noin went off into the
colonies somewhere and melted away. Where are you now, I wonder...?"
Silence and only silence.
"Are you as happy as I am?"
No one laughed at his joke.
"Maybe you're happier than I am...let's hope so."
No one smiled for him. He was alone in the house as he had been for
nearly seven years. He picked up the glass of wine and lifted it towards
the now darkening sky.
"Here's to you guys."
The glass was empty now and he set it down on the black tabletop.
Slipping the magazine into the gun, he slowly began to raise it to his
head. It would all be over. Maybe he'd lie just this once...he would
have to take his own life.
*RING*
He blinked. The phone was ringing.
*RING*
This was a private line. No one knew the number.
*RING*
.:: Who could have gotten this line? ::.
*RI--*
"H-Hello?" Dammit, his voice sounded shaky.
"Hello, Duo Maxwell." A distorted voice, done by a computer.
"Who is this?" he demanded, gaining control of his voice.
"I could ask you the same thing."
"But you know my name and I don't know yours." He stood, picking up the
base unit and walking towards the window.
"Yeah, well. Sorry about your guards. I didn't mean to have them kill
themselves like that."
"What? Who are you? Tell me your name."
"Names can be false if one so choses. I want to ask you. Who are you?
Inside, I mean. Why don't I know you anymore?"
"What? Who the hell are you?!" He was mad now. What right did this
stranger have to talk to him like that?! His finger went for the caller
ID button.
"I'm on an unlisted number. Caller ID isn't going to work, Maxwell."
His hand froze and he peered out through the glass. "Where are you?"
"Somewhere safe where I can see you, but you can't see me."
"You gave yourself away then. There's only one spot on this entire
premise where someone can see into this room and not be seen." He was
haughty now. His old confidence was back. People could be so stupid
sometimes. He turned away and prepared to hang up and call the police.
"Oh, I'm not on the waters, nor am I near the garden trellis. Which is
another place someone can go to not be seen. No, those are too obvious."
"Liar," he growled, whirling back around and scanning the ocean.
"I may run and hide, but I'll never tell a lie."
"Who are you?!"
"Someone who'd rather not see you disappear from their life as you've
watched them do. I'll be watching you, Duo Maxwell. Be as strong as I
knew you to be seven years ago." The computer distortion began to
disappear on the last few words. "Goodbye."
"Yaro!! Don't you dare--"
The phone went dead on the other end.
He slammed the phone down and threw it across the room. Just then a
sharp rapping came at the door. Growling, he picked up the gun and shoved
it into a holster behind his back as he stomped over to answer the
knocking. He flung the door open and was ready to bite the person's head
off when he noticed the badge. His anger abated for the moment, he
glared at the man coldly.
"What do you want, Officer?"
The man removed his hat and bowed slightly. "We're sorry to disturb you,
Maxwell-san, but we received an anonymous phone tip that someone was
going to try and kill you tonight. We tried to call you, but the phone
was busy so we drove out here on the double to check. We'll be keeping
you under survelliance and our security until the culprit either shows
his face or is caught."
"Whatever. Come in."
That man had kept him on the phone so the police would have to
investigate and come out here. With the police here and the reporters
not far behind, it'd be awhile before he had privacy again. This was a
plan...someone knew what he was trying to do and wanted to stop him.
.:: Who are you? And more importantly...why are you trying to save me?
::.
//But I've been down so long
Ooh, it can't be longer still\\
Gunshots! He was out of bed and on the floor, digging for the gun
underneath the bed. Glass shattered in his bedroom and he grimaced as
the tiny shards rained down on him as he ran. He could hear the police
returning fire and grabbed the black bathrobe before running into the
hall. Cocking the gun, he slid out into the living room only to be hit
and pushed back into the hallway by two armed policemen.
"Stay down, Maxwell-san!" one officer yelled, returning fire around the
corner.
"Someone shot into my bedroom and you expect me to sit and take it?!" he
shot back.
"Let us do our job!" the second officer shouted over the gunfire.
"Let me live a little!"
"Got 'em!"
"I was piloting suits before you idiots could carry a loaded weapon!!"
"He's running!"
The gunfire subsided and several officers rushed out of the house. He
could hear the pursuit as the officers barked it out over the hand
radios. Finally, they'd catch the bastard who'd been calling him and who
had killed off his guards.
"I'm not sitting here while there's a chase going on in my own backyard.
Sorry guys, but you're sitting this one out!" He quickly knocked both
policemen over the heads with the butt of his gun and took off through
the now broken window after the pursuing officers. He had taken a hand
radio before he had gone and listened intently as he ran.
-- In pursuit of suspect, heading on foot around the garden. --
-- Suspect is heading towards main gates! Circle round and cut him off!
--
-- Ten Four. Oyama, Takemura, go to it. --
If they were heading that way to the main gates from the garden, they'd
never catch him in time. Taking matter into his own hands, he peeled off
and hopped the fence running towards the large iron wrought gates.
-- He's making a break for it! Get him! --
One officer appeared from his side and nodded slightly as they both ran
together. Up ahead a shadowy figure slowed down slightly and began to
push the gates open. The figure began to struggle and pound on the bars.
-- The gate's locked! We have him! --
It was curious how the man who had gotten in, now couldn't get out.
Something didn't feel right about this and Duo knew it. Getting on mike,
he stopped running and lowered his gun.
-- Man by the fence, identify yourself. --
The man stopped struggling with the chains and turned around. A second
radio crackled to life and the pursuing officers stopped in their tracks.
-- This is Oyama. I was wondering what the hell you guys were talking
about. Where's the suspect? --
Duo sighed and went back on the air.
--We thought you _were_ the suspect. --
Oyama cursed over the air and another officer began to transmit.
-- Sir, we lo--
The transmission was cut off as an electronically distorted voice called
out over the radioes. It was familiar and made Duo's blood boil.
--Hello again, Duo Maxwell. I'm glad to see you're still alive. Your
men are well-trained. My arm is not altogether happy right now. --
Duo growled and clicked on his mike.
-- Just who the hell do you think you are?! --
He could almost hear the smile over the radio. Cold and calculated. It
was pure evil and yet it was familiar to him. He had once had that same
smile while destroying enemies on the field.
-- You'll find out soon enough. Officers, please remove the gun from Duo
Maxwell's presence. He's the one who tried to kill himself. Goodbye. --
How long had it been since that phone call? As the officers began to
draw closer, he ran over the calendar in his mind. One, two, three. The
gun dropped from his hand as he began to realize a pattern. Seven years
and seven guards dead. Seven months and the phone call that lasted
approximately seven minutes. Seven weeks and the attempted murder with
seven shots fired from the other side. The man was obsessed with the
number seven. And if Duo was right then...
He turned his eyes to the officers and his gaze was stone cold. Too cold
for his once warm prussian blue eyes. "Come back in seven days. You'll
have your man then."
.:: Don't mess with Shinigami or you're going to get burned. ::.
//I've been down so long
That the end must be drawing near\\
Seven days passed and nothing happened. He paced impatiently across the
living room floor, staring out the windows. Those which were broken and
those which were still intact. Those which were still intact were broken
as he threw vases at them.
"Where are you, you bloody son of a-"
*RING*
He whirled around and picked up the phone. "Hello?!"
The woman on the other end of the line sounded startled, but she was a
girl of good standing and continued on with her greeting. "S-Sorry to
bother you, Sir. We received this number as a way to reach a current
client. Are you by any chance a Daniel Peters?"
"Do I *sound* like Daniel Peters?" He was irritated now. Whoever this
guy was, he was toying with him. The last thing Duo liked was to be
toyed with.
"I'm sorry to bother you then, Sir."
The phone went dead on the other end. He let it drop from his fingers
and slumped down onto the couch. For Shinigami's sake! That was the--
Realization dawned in his eyes as he sat up and stared at the phone.
Spaced through the day he had received six other calls from telemarketers
like that. Though even he was subject to getting those types of
calls...that made seven in one day.
"This is too much. I'm going out."
The door slammed just as the phone rang again. It went five times before
the answering machine picked up. Odd how he'd kept that same message
from the colonies. Ah, well...some things shouldn't change.
"Hey hey! This is Duo Maxwell that oh so suave lady-killer. If you're
looking for me. Guess what! I'm not here. So leave a message and tell
me where to call ya back, okay? If I don't get back to you in a couple
of days, don't spaz out. Just call me again. I never check this stupid
thing."
*BEEP*
A slow chuckle came from the speaker, heavily distorted by the computer
yet again. "Hello again...."
//I look to everybody but me to answer my prayers
'Til I saw an angel in a bathroom who said she saw no one worth saving
Anywhere\\
The new Mustang was a sleek black color; like the night he was driving
through. His headlights bouncing along the road like the moon and stars
falling over a traveled sky. The engine hummed and the music blasted
out. It was going to be a long drive, so he had stopped at a local
convienence store and stocked up. Junk food and sodas. A few apples for
old times sake and a six pack of Yebisu beer. He'd always heard of it.
Might as well try it.
He needed to clear his head and the drive ahead would help with that. He
missed this type of lifestyle. Being a carefree, obnoxious, and
fun-loving. That's why he had bought the Mustang. As a reminder that he
could still be that way even as work and the depression set in on him.
The depression from the incident seven years ago.
"Damn this person." He stepped on the gas, accelerating a good 20 miles
past the speed limit. "He has no right prying into my life like this."
He eased up on the pedal as he turned the corner and almost skidded into
the next lane and oncoming traffic. Amazing how a two lane scenic road
that was previously empty can suddenly have a car on it when you're least
expecting it. Leaving the angered driver behind, Duo waved goodbye out
the window and kept driving. This was what he missed. The wind in his
hair and the music louder than manageable if he hadn't bought those ear
plugs at the store. It was great.
He pulled off to the side of the road and stretched, looking up at the
revolving, neon blue gasoline sign. His car was low on fuel anyway and
he needed a refueling himself. The bell above the door jingled as he
stepped inside and several pairs of eyes turned to greet him. One of
which was a young woman who smiled at him as he passed by. He noted the
smile and sat down next to her at the counter, taking the menu from the
waitress.
The woman turned to him and smiled again, holding a mug of coffee. "Been
driving from quite a ways away. Where you headed to, Stranger?"
"Wherever the road leads me, I guess. Heading up towards an old place I
used to hang out." He flashed her a winning smile and she giggled in
response. He still had it after all these years.
.:: Wonder why I never got out and did this before? ::.
"Sounds like fun. Now that I know where you're heading, where you
running from?" She turned back to face the counter and took the salad
handed to her. "Must be running fast considering your hair is so
displaced."
He snorted and laughed lightly. "Not running from anything. Just out
for a good drive. Hey, Miss? I'll take the Number Two Special please."
The woman didn't miss a beat and glanced up as she speared a carrot round
on the end of her fork. "Never heard of a man who just went out for a
nice long drive this far. Not a big city 'round here for a good 80 mile
radius."
Duo raised an eyebrow as his soda arrived and turned to look at this
woman. She was reasonably tall, probably around 5' 5 and extremely thin.
Her skin was tanned from days or weeks spent just lounging on the beach
and her dark brown hair offset her bright green eyes. "What makes ya
think I'm from the city?"
She motioned towards the parking lot with her fork and stuck it in her
mouth, chewing on the greens piled up on it. "Your car. No one around
here has enough class to drive a Mustang or enough money to put it
bluntly. Me? I drive an old Volkswagen Van. Good mileage, sort of,
enough space for everything I need."
He smiled faintly, sipping his soda. She was sharp to say the least.
"Okay. You asked your questions, now it's my turn. What's your name?"
The woman smiled and popped another forkfull of salad in her mouth.
"Cheyenne. Cheyenne Kinomoto. Weird combo for a weird girl ne?"
She laughed at her own joke and smiled warmly as he laughed along. "I
wouldn't say that. I've met lots of weird people, you're as normal as
they come."
Cheyenne raised a chestnut colored eyebrow and let her fork clink against
the half empty dish. "Just what kind of people do you meet?"
He grinned the patented Shinigami grin and counted off on his fingers.
"Suicidal pilots, pacifists fighting in a war, justice obesessed
swordsmen, pilots who moonlight as clowns, a bipolar colonel, a guy who
switched sides faster than I talk, and people obesessed with the number
seven. LOTS of people."
He blinked as she laughed lightly and stood. "Well, you're certainly an
interesting one, aren't you! So you have my name. What's yours?"
"Duo. Duo Maxwell."
She bowed politely and left a piece of paper on the counter.
"Well, Duo, Duo Maxwell. Hope to see you pass by this diner again. It's
been nice talking with you, but I have a long drive ahead of me." With
that she disappeared out the door and drove off down the road in a beaten
up blue van. He smiled as he watched her pass by and looked over at the
sheet of paper. He hadn't even noticed her writing a note during their
talk. He blinked in surprise as he read it and picked it up to read it
again.
Thank you, Duo, Duo Maxwell. You've helped me realize, maybe this world
ain't so bad. I'll keep going in it now knowing that people like you
still exist. People who'll smile back for the sake of smiling. Only one
bit of advice to you from an expert advice giver: Don't run too far when
you run. Sometimes the answer's with you the whole way. Have a great
trip anyway.
Signed, Cheyenne Kinomoto
The waitress came and set his order down in front of him. She was about
to leave when he stopped her.
"Hey, Miss. What do you know about that girl I was talking with?"
The older woman pushed back a strand of graying hair and smiled. "That's
Cheyenne. A regular here. She drives all the way down from the city
every night just to sit here, have coffee, have a salad, and leave again.
It's sad about her really."
Duo blinked and tilted his head to one side. Just from talking with her,
a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "Why?"
"She's the walking dead."
//And a blind man on the corner said it's simple, like flipping a coin
Don't matter what side it lands on if it's somebody else's dime\\
A shot ripped through his heart. The first feeling of pain in a long
time. "W-What's wrong with her?"
"Got some kind of incurable cancer in her liver and kidneys. It's
spreading fast and tonight was her last night coming out here, I think.
Said she wasn't going to try anymore that the pain was so bad. Whatcha
got there?" The waitress, bold woman that she was, snatched the paper
out of his hands and as she read it, a smile spread across her face.
"Well, Duo Maxwell-san...looks like she's going to be back tomorrow.
Thanks a lot. The boys and I would hate to see her leave."
He nodded slightly, finishing his food fast. He didn't say much more,
but thought about that girl. She was dying and yet she still drove from
the city every night and kept going. In the end it was a futile battle,
but...The waitress returned a bit later with his bill and noticed his
darkened features as he sat in thought.
"Hey."
He glanced up and blinked as the woman smiled.
"You did a good thing for her. You helped her in more ways than you
know, so cheer up. You sure seem like you're capable of having fun. Go
out and have it."
He grinned slightly and leaned on the countertop. "Are all of you guys
so great at giving advice or is it just you two?"
The waitress laughed. "We're all good at it. But only me and her are
*great* at it."
He smiled and paid the bill, waving as he walked out into the crisp night
air. It really was worth living sometimes, he thought and drove away
from the diner. His music blaring and his smile widening with each
passing minute.
//But I've been down so long
Ooh, it can't be longer still\\
The waves grew louder and the lighthouse off the point was just getting
wrapped in the early morning mist as he stepped out of the car.
Stretching and rubbing his neck, he made his way towards an old stone
building standing at the very end of the cliff. The waves crashed up
against the cliff, eroding away years of built up rock and limestone. He
looked down and noticed how his shoes made perfect little imprints on the
fine dirt. Little imprints...like he'd made on Cheyenne's life and that
she'd made on his.
He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The smell of the sea and the
feel of the ocean spray was wonderful even if he was dog tired. He
wondered if the old bedrolls were still sitting in the hut and jogged
over to the moss covered, wooden front door. He pushed and entered,
letting his eyes adjust to the dim light inside.
"Took you long enough," a gruff male voice greeted him as he closed the
door.
He froze as he finally noticed someone sitting on the table across the
room, well hidden in the shadows. Instantly on the defense, he began to
back up towards the door again. "Who are you? How do you know about
this place?"
"I take it you didn't get the message then. And you're late."
Duo reached around and pulled his gun out, aiming it at the shadowy
figure's head. "I asked you a question."
"It's seven hours and ten minutes. You're ten minutes over the appointed
time. What did you do? Stop TWICE for snacks?" the man asked, sighing
slightly.
Duo's eyes narrowed and he stepped forward, gaining back his confidence
once more. "So it's you...What are you doing here?"
"Every seven I'm to do something to you, right? Seven years, seven
months, seven days, seven hours. Get my drift?"
"Yeah, I got it. And you did everything in sevens too. Seven of my
guards. Seven bullets fired from your gun. Seven phone calls. So now
what?" He stepped forward again and watched as the man slid off the
concrete table silently.
"I never even noticed the seven bullets...Hm. You're sharper than I
remember. Or maybe I'm duller. I don't really care. At least I found
you."
"If you were looking for me, why not just come up to the door and knock?"
"You would have shot me."
"Hah, I must have a good reason to hate you then. And if that's true,
I'll have no problem disposing of you now."
"Yes, you will."
"And why is that?"
"I just figured since you shot me the first time I met you. Our reunion
wouldn't start much differently. And I was right. Your guards nearly
killed me thinking I was an assassin of some sort. The rest...I was just
pissed at you. Sorry about that."
"Sorry?! You've been screwing with me all this time because you were MAD
AT ME?!" Duo screamed, aiming the gun at the person's head. "YOU!
YOU!!"
"Me, what? That seven month thing was because I couldn't get any closer.
I watched you for awhile and noticed you were starting to carry that gun
with you everytime you were alone. I was afraid I'd lose you after just
finding you again. The seven year incident was just a fluke. The rest,
I knew would happen. Most of this has been nothing more than a bunch of
coincidences, save the seven phone calls." The figure stepped forward
slightly, keeping his head down. "I don't know why you left...it hurt so
much when you didn't come back. More than I thought it would."
"W-what?" The gun began to quiver as it was held in the air.
"You never came back...after I was in the hospital for three weeks...you
stopped coming. I never heard the door open again unless the doctors
were coming in. Wufei was the last person I saw before I lost
consciousness...why did you stop coming?"
"It..couldn't...be...." The handgun fell to the ground with a loud
clatter as he pressed himself up against the wall.
"Why, Duo...why did you stop coming to see me? It hurt...so much...why
did you stop?"
"It's impossible...I watched you die...I watched you die..." He was
vaguely aware that his head was shaking back and forth in disbelief as
the shadowy figure drew closer. "I...watched...you...die..."
His prussian blue eyes followed the thin rays of light as they hit first
a pair of brown boots, then traveled up two jean clad legs. They
lingered for just a second on the green tank top covered by the jean
jacket and finally came to glitter in two deep cobalt blue eyes, tinged
with a saddness no words could convey.
"Why did you leave me in there? Alone? It was so cold...you promised
I'd never be cold again. Seven years ago. You promised...then you
disappeared on me. Why?"
An uncertain step forward, hand reaching out.
"H-Heero? Is...is it really you?"
A slight nod, nearly unseen in the rapidly growing morning light.
"Aa. It's me...but answer my question, Duo. Why did you leave me alone
in the hospital seven years ago? It was so cold...so lonely. Everyone
just disappeared...why?"
"...because you died...Heero. You died. The gunshot wound...it killed
you." The hand suddenly touching soft brown hair and soft slightly
tanned skin. "I watched as you died..."
The cobalt blue eyes disappeared as Heero closed his eyes in response to
the gentle touch. "I didn't die...I'm here, aren't I?"
"...Heero..."
And for the first time in a long time the two starcrossed lovers felt
each other's touch.
//We've been down so long
That the end must be drawing near\\
It was so warm. Everything was warm. It was perfect. He wasn't alone
anymore. Two arms around him, two arms he thought he'd lost when the
bullet flew from his gun. Scenes flashed through his mind as they lay
together in the bedroll. Scenes from many years ago.
The back door was broken open when he came home late from work that
night. It was hanging from its hinges and glass was all over the kitchen
floor. Several plates were lying on the ground also, their pieces
shattered and interlaced with the glass. Lamps and furniture were torn
and overturned as he walked through in a daze, his gun out. Someone was
either after him or the other inhabitant of the small one-story house.
And whoever it was, was still there.
A lamp fell over in the direction of the living room and Duo spun, firing
as he did so. Only until after the body crumpled like a paper doll to
the floor from the single bullet wound did he dare venture forward. The
scream of anguish that came when he rolled the body over was louder than
the shot of the gun. Both attracted the police to the house.
Heero!! Oh my God!! HEERO!!<<
He had come home earlier than expected from a mission and had found the
wreck moments before Duo had entered. Still dressed in his all black
gear from the field he didn't look anything like himself and he had
knocked a lamp over as he had moved toward the kitchen. It was all a
simple mistake, a dumb twist of Fate...that left Heero Yui in a coma.
//I take a trip, I catch a train, I catch a plane
I got a ticket in my hand\\
His eyes opened slowly and he moved sluggishly in the afternoon heat.
The bedroll was missing one person as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.
Yawning, he stretched and glanced around the small one room hut.
"Heero?"
No answer. He pulled his pants on, still slightly sore from the previous
night, and walked outside into the bright sun. He squinted and glanced
around, using one hand to shield his eyes.
"Heero?"
Still no answer.
"Where are you? Heero?"
Unable to stand the bright sun, he averted his eyes to the ground and
began to walk back to the shack. Maybe Heero just went out to get
something to eat. He'd be back soon. Then he noticed something. The
dirt displayed the prints of shoes perfectly. He remembered that from
last night. There were two pairs of tracks going to the door. One
leading in and one leading out. Heero would have left tracks. Those
boots of his were heavy and even if he went barefoot, his prints would
still be there.
"Could it have all been a dream...? A cruel one if it was..."
There was no doubt about it. Only he had entered the stone house on the
edge of cliff. He had been alone last night.
"Yes, a very cruel dream." Shaking his head, he went back into the
shack. Of course Heero wasn't here... He had watched as the monitor
blipped out his last heartbeats as the doctors worked feverishly to make
his dying heart beat again. Wufei screaming at the doctors while Quatre
sobbed into Trowa's chest. And he had just sat there in the chair next
to the bed, silent and watching as his lover died. Heero was dead...gone
forever. His stupid, careless mistake had cost him his only love...his
life. His reason to live. "A dream...."
The tears fell unchecked as he sank to his knees on the bedroll. It had
been so real. His touch, his scent, his voice...everything. It had been
so real. How could all of that have been a dream? But it was...Heero
was dead. He had died seven years ago. He was dead, gone, forever lost.
"It's not fair...Heero...you were here. It wasn't a dream...it couldn't
have been...I touched you..." The tears kept falling, soaking into his
black jeans. "I touched you...Heero..."
Wiping the tears from his eyes, he reminded himself that boys didn't cry.
He didn't cry while Heero lay dying in the bed. He didn't cry at the
funeral. Or at the memorial services. Why should he cry now because of
some dream? Or rather a nightmare since it hadn't been real. He wasn't
crying! Pushing himself off the ground, he staggered back and tripped
over something, falling back against the wall. His head pounded and the
sound of the crashing waves were dull in his ears. His glazed over eyes
searched the ground by his feet and he spotted something.
His gun.
It sat on the floor. The cold, dead floor and gleamed at him in the sun.
Slowly, he sat up, his eyes trained on the automatic handgun in front of
him. "If it was a dream...then I know where to find you, Heero. I've
lived too long being alone. Being without you. I'm not living like this
anymore. Not without you..."
He picked it up slowly, bringing it to his head.
"I'll see you soon...I'm sorry. I had to take my own life, but it's
fitting in a way..."
The cold metal barrel pressed against his temple.
"I took your life. I'm killing the murderer..."
He cocked the gun, smiling faintly.
"It's the justice we never got..."
His finger tightened on the trigger.
"I'll see you soon..."
//And then a man takes my money
And like cattle we all stand\\
Click.
"....."
Click.
"....No..."
Click. Click.
"NO!"
Click. Click. Click.
"NO!! DAMMIT!"
He threw the gun against the wall. Jammed. The damn thing had jammed.
Then he looked closer and realized the magazine was missing. Someone had
taken the magazine out.
It was loaded when he had left the house.
Someone else had taken the magazine out.
He glanced wildly around the small one room shack and with shaking limbs,
stumbled and crawled his way towards the table. He had seen something
underneath. Something familiar.
With trembling fingers he reached out and touched the jacket. Right where
he had thrown it last night when they had finally met after so long. A
slightly faded, but still like new jean jacket. And beyond that a brand
new green tank top. He picked them up and held them close to him, his
eyes nearly blank as the tears of disbelief and joy began to rain down
from his eyes. He didn't mind crying this time.
//But we've been down so long
Ooh, it can't be longer still\\
The drive home was a long one, nearly seven hours with a small stop at a
diner with a revolving neon blue sign. Where he sat down for a Number
Two Special and chatted with a very special person before watching her
drive off again. The new guards at the iron wrought gates saluted him as
he drove past and he gave them a lopsided grin and a half salute back.
It was going to be alright.
//We've been down so long
The end must be...\\
The answering machine was beeping when he walked into the house. He also
noticed someone had had the courtesy to come in and fix the broken
windows, the bag of glass shards lying on the table for him to dispose
of. Dropping down onto the couch, he pressed the button and listened as
several people called about some repairs to their cars and a few
restoration jobs. He'd taken care of those months ago. Then a soft
chuckle, heavily distorted came over the recording. His ears perked up
and his eyes shot over to the machine.
.:: You... ::.
He began to speak. Duo smiled.
"Hello again. I know you're probably very fed up with me by now. I wish
you would check this more often though. Ah, wishful thinking. Like I
wished you would have returned seven years ago. But that's the past.
"I've looked for you everywhere, Duo Maxwell. And I finally found you.
I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you. I really didn't mean for
your guards to shoot themselves to death...I was just trying to leave
something on your doorstep. A friendly gift to remember me by. So you
could remember without pain. I wanted to give you our wedding ring.
"I also didn't mean to shoot into your bedroom. I've been careless
lately, but it's been rather hard for me to get the usual training in.
Wouldn't you say? I didn't see where the first shot came from and I
suppose that was when you moved and I shot into your room. That first
bullet caught me by surprise...
"I see you figured out my little game too. Seven by seven by seven. Do
you know what seven means? In the Buddhist tradition, you pay your
respects to the dead by multiples of seven. Seven days and the funeral.
Fourteen days and it's a memorial service. Then the fourty-nine day
memorial service."
The electronic distortation ended and a soft, saddened male voice came
out.
"But that meaning of seven is a bit grim. Maybe fitting for Shinigami,
but not for me. There's an old legend that says the two fated lovers
from ancient Japanese lore can meet each other on the seventh day of the
seventh month. The Milky Way opens for them and allows them to see each
other. By coincidence I happened to find you just before the seventh
year passed and I thought of these two meanings.
"If you do pick up this message, it may already be too late. If
not...meet me where we used to go to when we were both here. I don't
know if you're already heading there or not...but I do know it will take
you seven hours to complete the trip. Make it in time...please. If
anything, I don't have much time. See you soon, Duo Maxwell. I love you
and I miss you. I'll always love you...and I'll be watching you."
The message ended and he pressed the save button. Once again tears came
unbidden as he looked over at the calendar and noticed the date. July
7th.
"Heero..."
//I know the end must be...
Oh, I know the end must be drawing near\\
~owari
Please send any comments, criticisms, and flames to TaliaShimae@juno.com
They will all be greatly appreciated (yes, even the flames..).
Embrace the Darkness Fanfiction:
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Villa/9072/fanfic.htm
-- Life Lessons #793 -- If you ever wake up to find a certain
purple-haired priest hovering over your bed, remember those Magick Seal
Plug-ins need to be changed every 30 days.
-- Life Lessons #794 -- Don't mess with Zelgadis Graywords' morning
coffee. Just. Don't.