Title: Forgive Me Father
Author: Stacey-Marie
Archive:?
Parings: none
Warnings: songfic, angst, drug addiction, Duo torture, mention of suicide attempts
Disclaimer: GW and all of it's characters, mecha and other miscellaneous stuff isn't mine so don't sue me because you have a better chance of finding a live cabbit in my room than something of value. Creed isn't mine either (obviously).
Note: Gomen nasi minna-san no pairings for this one, well if you blink you may miss the one hint, but I'm writing it for a Health class assignment. This is my first songfic so it may suck, I want to thank Shi-Chan because her fic of this got me listening to the CD which I'm now addicted to.
Forgive Me Father
He was screaming again, no wonder he had used that stuff. Still he was screaming harder now because of it.
//what makes you touch?//
Forgive me Father for I have sinned,
It's been six years since my last confession. I am a nameless murderer of thousands; men, women, children, all have fallen before my blade.
They had had to strap him to the bed he had just burnt out one day and collapsed. 'Allah, why didn't you tell us.'
My wrists are scarred from far too many razors. It was my fault, the Church burned because of me. I am Shinigami and I am taking my vengeance.
//what makes you feel?//
I had a mission that morning, but I stayed up late to finish making the repairs to my MS.it was one of Howard's guys, he gave me some cross-tops telling me if I was wired I was still alive and able to fight. If I was asleep, you could kiss my sorry ass goodbye.
They
weren't the reason he screamed, oh no, he screamed at their bloody hands pointing accusing fingers at him from the crosses he had nailed them to.//what makes you stop and smell the roses in an open field?//
I know what you're thinking Father, well here's the start, but now this little speed freak needed more to feel better because of when he came down and now he'll probably rob the donation box to pay for this little habit of his. You're wrong.
//what makes you unclean?//
I want to say I needed them to fill the void that all of their deaths had created, I want to say that I did it to stay happy for the other guys, I want to say that I did it on purpose. But I didn't. I had a mission in a top grade school, yeah figure that, I had to hack the mainframe comp every night to upload a virus into the Oz network. No biggie and it was one mother of a virus too. It was designed so that it would send all, and I do mean all Oz transmissions to our databases. I mean if Joe Smoe wanted a turkey sandwich, we would know about it. It was untraceable and they probably wouldn't even detect it for a month. Then, and here's the sweet part, once they had erased it another of the same type with different holes would automatically uplink to their system. Pretty snazzy eh? Usually this was no problem, but this school had unbelievably high standards for its students. They only wanted the best, so I started to take our standard issue stims, something about equal to caffeine pills, but better and the effects are almost unnoticeable. Gotta give it to the Docs they sure know how to equip a teenage terrorist. Well, I was taking the stims because after my "work" I had to do absolutely shitloads of homework, because my grades couldn't go beneath a "b-" or I would get kicked out of the school. And for the sake of the mission, not to mention how many repairs and injuries to my partners both flesh and metal would be avoided, I had to finish the uploads.
//what makes you laugh?//
He's lapsed now. He sounds like a three-year old giggling in there, he's ripping the sheets too, the ones he can reach anyway. In a way I'm happy for him right now, at least the flashback pulled him awake and out of that nightmare of his. It won't matter though once it wears off, sleeping, awake, they'll still be there, they'll still be coming for him.
//what makes you cry?//
It had been a two-week mission and I kept having to take them to stay up 24/7 between school, the mission, and the homework I had to do afterwards to keep up. When I got back I was wired, I knew it. Thankfully the Docs anticipated this so they made us some type of serum that would let us sleep of the effects of the drugs without any major side effects. They called me lazy for sleeping through our two days off, but then again they didn't notice the way my hands shook if I held them in midair. I've made too many masks and it's hard for me to see through them, so why should they?
//what makes our youth run from the though that we might die?//
He had tried suicide. Looking at him it wasn't the first time either, it came out when he woke up. He hadn't really wanted to die, he just wanted to stop seeing them. After a few days he was fine, outwardly, but we watched him closely or thought we did.
//what makes you bleed?//
It was later that it happened again, Father. The mission had gone a bit wrong, well a bit wrong in the way that we were all beat to hell, Heero worst of all as usual. 'Member my virus? Well, as expected it was out of their system totally in 5 months and they had the auto-scan delete for anything resembling it. We were out-numbered again, there were only three of us this time though and Trowa was out of ammo again. I don't know about you, but in an MS battle a giant jackknife doesn't really do much good. My power was running low too so Heero took the brunt of the action. When we got back to the safe house and did injury assessments I was the only one without a broken bone though together our sutures totaled more than 170. All in a day's work Father. Heero had 4 broken ribs, a concussion, several pieces of metal from the control panel stuck in him, minor burns, broken collar bone and various cuts ranging from ones needing sutures to ones with Band-Aids. Trowa's condition was still bad, but considerably better. His entire right hand was broken along with is wrist, a concussion (boy, those were popular that day), burns, cuts, and huge welts running along his chest from the safety harness. Eh? That came along with using a dinky jackknife in battle. I had to stay awake for them, despite the nasty gash I was sporting on my forehead, bruises, burns, cuts and one mother of a sore ankle, I had to keep them up.
//somebody told me the wrong way//
He's staring at the wall now and begging. It wasn't his fault, not that they care. He made them, they are his children in some respects. They started small, it was just guilt. Then they grew, and he fostered them.
I don't know how many I had to take those three days, more than in my two-week mission at that school though. My injuries didn't help matters either. Then I started to see them. It was small at first: a child's laugh, the sound of hymns. Then I began to see him in particular, not how he was before me, no never such curtsey. He ran, he played, he stole our things, just like we were on L2, but it was wrong now Father. I could see his face purplish from rot, and in his eyes danced the unholy flames. Then he started to leave the needles around the house, half-full with the vaccine that never took effect.
//what if I died?//
I should have died with them, Father. It was my fault. After Trowa was in the clear, he took over for me to watch Heero. The serum wasn't any good at this point, I knew that. I figured that if I took it and slept a lot, then the Docs could come up with something when we got back. But they were there Father. Just as Solo was when I was awake they were there when I slept. I could see them, dying, tortured on crosses.
//what did I give?//
I want to say I was angry at seeing this Father, I do, but I didn't need to look down to see the hammer in my right hand not the nails in my left. I couldn't escape them. I ran for years it seemed, but I came back. Always to her, Sister Helen, still blessing me though I felt her blood burning my hands.
They were almost out of him, he'd been there for three weeks. He had stopped screaming when his vocal cords gave out. They couldn't bring him anywhere, even if they could reach a place they still couldn't. It was good that no one could hear him scream in space or they wouldn't be alive.
//I hope it was an answer so you might live//
They called me Maxwell's Demon. They never knew how close to right they were. When I woke up I took more, I could stand Solo, but not them. Solo understood partially that I wasn't alone in his case. It didn't make me less of a murderer for that, but he knew. They didn't, they didn't know it was my fault, at first. The two of them made me sleep once. I couldn't leave that place, and none of them knew. I screamed at them I told them what had happened Father. It was always silent there, save her blessings on me. But it grew worse, they all stared accusingly, them one by one they ripped a hand from it's perch of iron and wood to point at me. Blood, so much blood, dripped from the holes. It swallowed me drowned me, when I woke I could still see it on my hands, hear it drip to the floor in ruby, almost black droplets. I kept taking more because I couldn't sleep I couldn't stand to see them.
His eyes were the worst, they were once so vibrant, now they looked empty as if he were watching things play through in his mind. They were terrified, but they still held a spark of intelligence as if he knew, knew they were coming for him again and he couldn't stop them.
//I hope I helped you live//
We had to leave Earth on a shuttle, they noticed then. Three guys, three Gundams in one shuttle meant no escape. By the second day they had taken away most of my stock, but I had to stay awake. They never accounted for my wits as a street thief though we can hide things anywhere. They thought they looked good, but they didn't know everyplace in my mech. I don't even think G knows now. I kept taking them, by the time we reached Quatre's resource satellite they had figured it out. They had strapped me to a bed.
//I hope I helped you live//
Now, Father, you want to know why I'm confessing. I know you're not a priest, there are no priests here. Priests don't live in Hell, they don't work to save the dammed. Yes, Hell, that is precisely where we are now. Yes Heero, this is Hell, where I belong, this is my home: Satan spawn that I am. And don't tell me it's the stims because they didn't create those phantoms, I did and neither of us really want them to leave, even if they wanted to they couldn't. They are chained as surely to me as I am to them. I've dammed us all.
//somebody told me the wrong way//