wrote this in june, for Cordria's contest on dA, and it came in 1st place. so that' means its a pretty good fic, right? i hope so. so i'm finally uploading this here... enjoy!
be careful, there's lots of blood and angst up ahead! ...no yaoi tho D:
Blood
There was so much blood; you could taste the metal...
"Duo!" the piercing, nearly ear shattering screech rent through the cold blackness of night. It tore through the icy, sharp rain; through the strong, relentless wind.
Heero Yuy could feel the once hot blood splatters on his cheeks, on his clothes and hands. He could feel them becoming diluted and mixing with the rain as it soaked him to the bone so many times over. His short, terribly messy, chocolate-brown mop of hair was completely flattened by the wet—it was hanging in his eyes, as if it wished to blind him on this pitch black night.
The heavy, almost tangible, sickening scent of blood was everywhere. It smelt of metal, death, fear, hate, sorrow—everything and nothing. So strong, that it felt as if his nose and mouth were full of the red, sticky liquid. It made him nauseas. It nearly forced him to his knees, doubled over, gagging, retching. Oh, how he hated the smell and the taste of blood. During the war, all those years ago, he had learned not to fear it, that bleeding in any way simply meant he had to try harder to complete the mission—because, back then, failure was not an option. Failure meant suicide for the emotionless Heero Yuy. But now...
His heavy steel-toe boots pounded, splashed through the deep and shallow puddles of blood-spattered rainwater as he ran. Heero could not see anything—his sense of sight was completely lost to the darkness. However, he did not need to see. He already knew that before him lay the scene of a bloody massacre. He could smell it—he could taste it.
"Duo! Where are you?" Heero called again, forcing his voice to be heard, forcing himself to speak around the gag that was the heaviness of blood. "Answer me!"
His partner, Duo Maxwell, had disappeared during the battle several hours ago. Duo's comm. link had gone dead—consequently filling Heero's end of the line with static—but not before the former pilot of Deathscythe had uttered a strangled cry. Heero hadn't been able to discern why his partner had called out; had it been a cry of pain, a scream of fear, a shout of rage, a yell for help? Heero did not know. He could only hope that Duo was still breathing, wherever he was. Nonetheless, mere moments after that cry, the greedy claws of oblivion had swallowed Heero up, rendering him unconscious for god knows how long...
Memories of the war chose that moment to plague Heero's mind. His feet nearly came to a screeching halt below him, his legs becoming languid and weak—and when he stumbled over what he knew was a bloodied corpse, he did not rise. Sometimes, Heero would be overcome by tortured flashbacks from the war, of all the merciless killing and the horrible, cruel, inhumane training he had to go through, day and night, year after year, to become Dr. J's 'Perfect Soldier'.
Heero's body shuddered and trembled as he lay in the bloodied mud and the rain. He curled into a tight ball, as if he could somehow shield himself from the fear and the rancid stench of blood. This time, it wasn't a particularly bad memory—in fact it was one that he recalled quite often as the source of a joke, or to simply wonder how things had turned out the way they did after that. It was the memory of the first time he had encountered Duo, his partner, his best friend. But his current surroundings, and the fear that was already coursing through his veins in the form of hot blood and adrenaline, turned that memory into a horrid, dark nightmare.
How Duo had mistaken him as an enemy, that look of hate and determination in his violet eyes, the earsplitting crack of his gun... Heero could actually feel the pain of the long-since healed bullet wound in his arm, the way the second shot had lodged itself in his leg... A terrified, agony-filled screech tore from Heero's throat, echoing out into the rainy, bloody night. It left him gasping, his tired lungs burning with the icy night air and the stink of crimson.
Heero felt nothing as his body twitched and shuddered, instinctively reacting to the force of the terrible memory. His consciousness was lost in a daze, reliving the flashback over and over, watching his best friend fire that gun over and over.
And then, just as quick as they had overcome him, the memories were gone. They left him in a cold sweat...which could very well have been nothing more than the wet of rain—but he lay there, gasping and about to empty his stomach of all its contents, thanks to the stench of blood. Still lost to the haze, he managed to stagger up to his hands and knees, wobbling and nearly falling over. He had no balance now. Had he been able to see, Heero's vision would've been blotched with so many colors that weren't really there, and the world would be spinning around him.
His breath came in shaky rasps and his skin was pale and then it was over. Heero felt somewhat okay again as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The stink of blood wasn't really bothering him any more and, as he rose shakily to his feet, he was able to continue on. Yes, the fear was still there, but so was the adrenaline. He had the strength to continue on, and that was all he needed. He was the 'Perfect Soldier', after all.
"Duo!" he cried again, his voice scratching in his throat. "Duo!"
There was no reply, and the fear in Heero's heart muttered something about the other being dead. Heero instantly throttled that thought, put an end to it then and there. No. Duo was not dead... he was stronger than that. Shinigami, the God of Death, wouldn't be written off that easily. But still, Heero worried. He was scared, scared that his best friend, his partner, his 'most important person' was lying somewhere, stained in the blood that was making Heero's stomach turn.
Heero shook his head, sending drops of rain in every direction, and continued on. His legs were growing tired, his body so weary. He clutched his heavy gun, the familiar, worn metal a small comfort in his calloused hands. Heero forced himself into mission mode, bringing back his training from the war, his emotions and irrational thoughts slipping back behind that old, dusty Gundanium wall of resolve.
Heero hadn't let himself become this stoic in a long time. It felt foreign, assessing things purely by the facts and nothing less. Finding Duo became a mission in that unfeeling mind of his—he even muttered a small 'mission acknowledged' like back in the old days.
"Ninmu Ryoukai."
All sense of self was lost from Heero now. He could still smell the blood, but it didn't bother him like it had mere moments ago. He could still feel the icy rain, but his core temperature was not in danger of lowering. He could still not see, but the other four of his senses would surely suffice to direct him on his way.
"Duo!" he called, his voice no longer containing that panicky, scared tone.
Running. Heavy boots. Feet pounding on the wet ground. The mission. Locate and rescue Agent Maxwell. Return to a secure location.
Thoughts similar to those scrolled through Heero's mind like binary on a computer. Because that's what he used to be—a living, breathing machine. A weapon.
There was nothing for him to sense now; no fear to feel, no blood to smell, no rain to soak him. Just... nothingness. But that didn't last very long. Heero took a moment to stop and call out, "Duo! Where are you? Duo!" when a cold, weak hand latched around his ankle. Hair-trigger reactions as strong as ever, Heero spun on his heel to shoot down whoever dared try to stop him. The look in his cobalt eyes was wild, the last thread of sanity being pulled a bit too tight. He would eliminate all obstacles. He was the 'Perfect Soldier'.
"Help... m-me..." wheezed a pained, dieing, familiar voice from below. Heero froze; that Gundanium wall of resolve cracking and giving way like a dam breaking, the tarnished metal remaining shattered for several heartbeats.
It took him too many moments to come to his senses again to put a name and face to that voice. It wasn't Duo. It was... Agent Cain, one of the men on Heero and Duo's team... a good friend.
Heero shook his head. No! He brutally shoved himself back into that stoic demeanor—he couldn't handle the loss of one of his men right now, especially if it was Duo. But the stink of blood tickled his nose again and his heart gave a painful throb in his chest. Heero found himself kneeling down at Agent Cain's side, "Where are you hit, soldier?" he asked, voice cold as his consciousness operated behind that Gundanium wall of defense.
The reply was shaky, hardly audible, "D-Don't... know..."
However, Heero figured out where as he put a hand to the man's back—he instantly felt the sticky blood coat his palm. For a very brief moment, he almost lost control again. Heero almost recoiled in disgust, in fear... but he clutched his stomach with that bloodied hand, forcing himself to calm down.
Heero put his hand back at the agent's wound, calculating mind assessing the damage... This man would not live. There was no heart, no feeling in his icy voice when Heero stated, "It's too late. You've bled too much." But Agent Cain had already lost consciousness. It was too late. Heero could do no more. Staying would only hasten the destruction of his already cracking resolve. He couldn't waste any more time.
"Duo!" Heero cried as he began to run again, his mind slipping deeper and deeper behind the stoic, Gundanium wall with every step. Heero forced his rapidly, erratically thudding heart to even out and slow—fast enough that the adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, yet sluggish enough that he could still stay calm and focused.
His body was strong, and he could surely run forever if he had to, but Heero soon found his pace deteriorating. He made himself continue, reminded himself that this was a mission that had to be completed... but it was too dark and too wet. Red blood was everywhere and he didn't have the slightest clue where Duo could be.
"Duo! Please! Answer me!" he screeched one last time before sinking to his knees in a deep puddle of rain and crimson. It was too late now. Heero was giving up hope. His wall or Gundanium-strong resolve was crumbling, and it was too late. He'd never find Duo like this...
The rain was cold, chilling Heero to the core. His hands were so numb with the cold; he couldn't even feel the trigger of his gun under his finger anymore. If... if Duo was dead... Heero would never be able to forgive himself, much less live on without his 'most important person'. The two of them had fought and won a war together, faced losing their lives together time and time again, defended each other on countless missions, each acting as one half of a whole. If one died, then the other would surely follow.
Heero forced his unfeeling hand to clutch his gun tighter, staring up with unseeing eyes at the onyx sky... blinking away the raindrops as if they were his tears. His once machine-like heart ached to find Duo. Whether his friend was still alive or all that was left was a soulless corpse, Heero had to find Duo.
Knees shaking and suddenly feeling so weak, Heero pushed himself up. He had to find Duo. There was no choice. His stomach twisted as a gust of wind blasted him with the sickening smell and taste of blood and death. Heero Yuy, the 'Perfect Soldier', Gundam pilot 01 pushed himself forward, trudging through the reddened mud.
The sun was rising. The night was coming to an end. Black gradually illuminated to a very dim shade of gray, and shadows of corpses became more and more detailed with every passing moment. There was no noise, save for the soft sound of rain and the wet thuds that Heero's combat boots made as he walked. But color was still lost—the blood was there in touch and smell and taste, but not in sight.
Heero tried not to see what was before him, but his cobalt eyes thought otherwise as they took in the scene of the massacre. It was worse than he could've imagined; it looked like the scene of a mobile suit battle from so many years ago... but these corpses weren't made of metal, didn't hide the sight of the dead pilot within... these people were real; they were there, right in front of him—this was too much. Heero's legs locked beneath him and his already empty stomach threatened to bring him down yet again. No...
"Duo!" Heero gave one final, desperate cry before he gave in and let himself fall. This was it; Heero was giving up. He let his head hang in defeat, in sorrow and pain. He clutched his stomach, struggling to keep breathing despite how the heavy smell of blood made him feel like he was suffocating. He suddenly felt so lightheaded, as if the blood around him was once his, as if his consciousness was fading. He felt as if he was dieing...
"Heero...!" the somewhat distant call came from somewhere ahead of Heero. It... It was Duo!
Heero was up in an instant, all fear and discomfort and weakness forgotten as he bolted in the direction of the cry. He called out his friend's name, silently begging that he really had heard Duo... Duo had to be alive.
Heero could see fine now in the early morning light. The rain was still pouring down, but visibility levels were decent, and constantly getting better. Heero lost sight of the blood and the death and the sorrow that was everywhere as he saw Duo running towards him. He could clearly see his friend's long, chestnut braid swishing out behind him.
Heero was overcome by joy and relief. Duo was alive! The pain and the disgusting smell of blood faded with this happiness, disappearing as if they had never been there to begin with. It was as if the entire past night had never been; the horrible memories that would surely plague his nightmares from now on, temporarily lost. Heero's heart thudded erratically again, but he didn't care. Duo was alive, and he didn't care.
"You're alive...!" Duo's grin was even wider than normal as he fell against Heero, his thin, wiry body just as worn out as the other's. Duo looked up at Heero, smiling his trademark smile; his amethyst eyes twinkled with relief and happiness. But then his expression darkened, bright eyes seeming to dim a few shades, "I thought you were dead... when I finally came to, my comm. link was busted and I had no way of contacting you. I was really worried..." Duo took a step back, releasing Heero from his embrace. He gazed down at the bloodied ground—the redness didn't even affect him; he had never lost his tolerance of it from the days of the war.
"I thought... the same thing had happened to you, too," Heero couldn't bear to say that he thought Duo was dead. Just the mere thought of losing his best friend was too much. "What happened to you, last night?" Heero's cobalt eyes instinctively scanned Duo for any injuries... but the act was futile, since he had no way of distinguishing where the blood staining the other's clothes had come from.
Duo stared down at his bloodstained mission uniform, eyes going distant as he gazed at the dark, reddish smudges. But his carefree, happy façade didn't stay lowered for long as he grinned at Heero, his smirk and violet eyes telling his partner that he shouldn't have worried. "Oh, nothing we haven't handled before. I kinda was running to charge some guy, but a grenade or something went off nearby and I got caught up in it. I think I was unconscious for most of the night," explained Duo, reaching up to gently rub the bump on his head. But he quickly added, as Heero's expression got a bit more concerned, "I'm okay though. No worries."
Heero sighed, "Next time, don't go running off again. You, of all people, should know how much more effective, and safer, it is when the two of us fight together." It was true; Heero and Duo were even more than a deadly combination when they fought back to back; they were unstoppable.
"Yeah really," sighed Duo, suddenly serious, "I almost forgot how hard it was fighting on my own again. I can't believe I'm so used to you watching my back all the time."
Heero nodded in agreement, not saying anything. After a moment though, he slung the strap of his heavy gun over his shoulder and took a few steps forward. "We should probably head back. We don't want the others to worry."
Duo grinned at that, probably imagining Quatre nearing a panic just because the ex-pilots of Wing and Deathscythe had yet to return. "You can say that again!"
Heero quirked an eyebrow, "We should probably head back..."
"Sarcasm, Heero! I didn't really mean it!" Duo laughed, always the joker. Even in the worst situations, Duo knew how to cheer people up. He kind of took it on as a sort of duty during the wars, always keeping up the morale of his fellow pilots, even though his own emotions and sanity were in constant turmoil.
So with that said, the two Preventer agents began to trek, through the mud and the rain and the blood, back to base camp; back to the safety of the small haven that was their home for this terrible mission. They had to let the others back at Preventers HQ know that they were still alive...
To say the least, the blood no longer bothered Heero. Now that Duo, his closest friend, was back at his side, he was blind to the death and the blood. His Gundanium wall of resolve had been rebuilt, protecting him from what he did not want to see. It was almost as if last night had never happened, as if the mission had been a success and hardly any lives were lost...
To Heero and Duo, the rainy, morning air was as clean as any other morning. The blood was gone, the death was gone, the hurt was gone. They would soon be able push away the memories of this horrid massacre, of the terror they had faced in order to still be alive at sunrise... It wouldn't be hard to forget the past night's events and move on, even though the shadows of death and the smell of blood would still haunt them for many missions to come...
The rain continued to fall.
OWARI
yes? no? please review? hope you guys liked it.
i honestly dont know when or if i'll be finishing anything soon... school is murder... meh.
-Shinigami out...
