This short little ficlet was written a few weeks ago in a fit of depression. Not sure if it makes sense or not. *shrugs* It's rather dark, and I DON'T like the way I ended it...but...enjoy! Reviews always welcome. ^_^

~*~Rain~*~

Rain. Pouring out of the sky in a torrent, as if the heavens had split and were raining down all their anger and fury. Duo stared out the window, watching the droplets fall. Watching them bathe the plants in a shimmering glow, watching them trace a winding path down the glass, coming to pool on the sill. Each droplet meeting it's fellows and becoming single entity.

What was the point? He sighed, breath fogging the glass for a moment. What was the point of life? In the end, they were all just like those droplets. Each forging their own individual path, and at the end, merging with those that had gone before, fading into obscurity.

Some droplets were bigger then others, and sometimes a few of them merged, sharing the same path. But, the destination was the same. In the end, they'd all slide into the pool at the bottom, becoming nothing more than something that once was. Something soon forgotten. A memory of a memory, and eventually, not even that. Vanished, like a half remembered dream in the early morning mist.

What was the point of this war? To make things better for those who come after, perhaps. But there will always be another war, another cause, each as important as the last, and each equally meaningless. What does a cause become when you aren't sure you believe in it anymore? A burden, a tight pain in your chest that grows tighter with each passing day.

Why did he fight? Duo sighed again, unsure of the answer. Because he had to. For the memory of those droplets that had already fallen into the pool. Solo, Father Maxwell, Sister Helen. He fought for them. For the peace they'd never been able to live. Or at least, that's what he'd told himself for so long. Now...he wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure anything mattered anymore.

Duo lifted the gold cross around his neck, watching the half light reflect on the metal. Was there really a God? What kind of god would allow His children to suffer so? What kind of god would let children die, homeless and hungry, would let women be raped? What kind of god would let His own churches be burned, His followers murdered?

"There is no God." Duo murmurred, "The only God who exists is the one people delude theselves into believing in." God was a creation of a few small, terrified people, who needed something beyond themselves, someting great. They needed the lie, and believed in it with all their hearts. Fools.

Letting the cross fall back to his chest, Duo turned his attention to his hands, resting in his lap. He watched, with a dull sort of fascination as his life drained slowly out through the twin slashes on his wrists. Pooling in his palms, soaking into his pants. It didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore. God, war, life. Soon he would be gone, and such things couldn't touch him anymore.

He turned his gaze outside once again, waiting patiently for the comfortable darkness of death to wrap him in it's warm embrace.

And another raindrop slid into the pool.