Title: Blood on My Hands
Author: Anna Maxwell
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, wish I did though. Talk about some serious spending cash! Unfortunately though, there's no money here so don't sue me, k?
Author's Note: Most everything that happens in this story is the result of a challenge issued to me by a friend of mine. *coughchasecough* It's also partly the morbid mood I can fall into and some of the story I had already thought of before my golden opportunity to write it down. If you are the kind of person that doesn't like yaoi, great! Keep reading! However, I believe that two guys can have a really strong friendship without it meaning anything romantic. (That does NOT mean I think two guys holding hands, kissing, etc. is good. So don't even think like that.) Anyhoo, enough jabbering. On with the story.
"Heero."
I didn't bother to look up from my laptop. I knew who it was, and it probably wasn't anything important.
"Hmm." Was my reply.
"Heero." He said again. Although, he didn't really say it, it was more like a ragged breath, a desperate last grasp for reality. I thought he was kidding around. Then I heard him make a noise, a small noise of pure pain.
A noise I knew couldn't be faked.
I managed to pull myself from the depths of my program and turned to look at him. I nearly turned over my chair in my haste to stand.
"Duo!" I gasped. Not much surprises me anymore. Not after all the death and bloodshed I'd participated in and witnessed. But never, never in a million years did I expect something as horrible as this.
Duo, my best friend, was leaning against my doorframe, one hand supporting his weight, the other hand clutched to his chest. Dark stains marred the black of his shirt, and clung to the white of his collar. He tried to take a step toward me and failed. He pitched forward as if in slow motion headed for the wood floor. It never happened. Without realizing I was even moving, I had covered the distance between us. He fell against me with a sickening thud and I lowered him gently to the ground.
"Duo, Duo, what happened?" I asked, my quick nearly frantic breaths challenging his slow, shallow ones.
"Assassins. Here to kill us and the others," he paused, a grin –that ever present grin- crossed his pale face, "But I got 'em."
I shook my head. "Are you sure it isn't the other way around?"
Hot tears began to sting at the back of my eyes. He was losing so much blood…It shouldn't be like this, not at all. Not with him so weak, and I could sense the fear. I grabbed him by the shoulders and half pulled him into my lap. I wouldn't, no couldn't, let him die.
"Why? Why didn't you shout for help, Duo?" I asked.
He grimaced. "I thought I could take care of it. And I did. All of them are gone, even if I will be too."
My eyes narrowed. "Don't say that. We'll get help and you'll be fine."
"Not enough time. Besides that, everyone else in this building has been drugged." He paused for what seemed like an eternity. "I thought I could handle it. I did, didn't I, Heero?" his voice became a whisper and his eyes were focused on some unseen pattern on the ceiling.
The tears, having managed to stay behind my eyes, began to fall. They fell steadily, cascading down my cheeks gently. Too gently, for someone like me. I closed my eyes, and gripped his hand. As I reopened them I saw him slowly reaching up.
He didn't touch me, but let one of my tears fall onto his finger. "I always wondered what it would be like to see you cry." He said, refocusing on me.
This took me by surprise. "I look like everyone else, you fool." I said gently.
The grin returned. "No you don't. You have special tears, because they're rare."
I was beginning to think he was losing it, but he looked so serious, even with that idiotic grin on his face. The boy was dying, and he was still grinning!
He closed his eyes and his breathing dropped. Oh, crap, I hadn't been this scared in forever. I was losing one of the few people I trusted.
It's a funny thing, crying. I didn't even realize I was. I couldn't feel it, couldn't taste it, and couldn't see it. But I could feel the sob that was growing in the back of my throat. I could feel the hollowness in my stomach. I could feel my heart ache.
I hugged him to me and the sob broke free. I wish your blood was my blood, your pain was mine, so I didn't have to see you suffer. I thought desperately.
I heard another sob, yet it wasn't mine. I looked at Duo to see him also crying. "Do you mean that?"
Apparently, I had spoken aloud. It was just as well. All I could do was nod.
The grin resurfaced one last time. "I'm glad we were friends, Heero. Do me two favors?" he asked.
As if I could refuse. He nodded. "Don't wear black to my funeral, Heero. And take care of Deathscythe for me. I'm glad we were friends, Heero." He said, his voice returning to a whisper.
He was watching me, watching my eyes. Oh God, no. No, I can't give him permission to die. And yet, that's what he's waiting for. Curse it. That's what he wants from me. To know that it's okay to let go. How could I? How could I not.
It was as if time stood still and we were in the middle of some time warp. We sat there, looking at each other. What could I do? I nodded.
He smiled.
His eyelids fluttered closed and drew a deep breath.
His last.
Oddly enough, the desk light by my forgotten laptop flickered and went out.
It was over. And his blood was on my hands. I clutched his shirt and buried my face in it. A horrible scream ripped through me as I sobbed.
I cried. I cried for Duo. I cried for me. I cried for everyone that I had seen die. Eventually, my tears subsided.
I did not wear black to the funeral.
But his blood will always be on my hands.
Author: Anna Maxwell
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, wish I did though. Talk about some serious spending cash! Unfortunately though, there's no money here so don't sue me, k?
Author's Note: Most everything that happens in this story is the result of a challenge issued to me by a friend of mine. *coughchasecough* It's also partly the morbid mood I can fall into and some of the story I had already thought of before my golden opportunity to write it down. If you are the kind of person that doesn't like yaoi, great! Keep reading! However, I believe that two guys can have a really strong friendship without it meaning anything romantic. (That does NOT mean I think two guys holding hands, kissing, etc. is good. So don't even think like that.) Anyhoo, enough jabbering. On with the story.
"Heero."
I didn't bother to look up from my laptop. I knew who it was, and it probably wasn't anything important.
"Hmm." Was my reply.
"Heero." He said again. Although, he didn't really say it, it was more like a ragged breath, a desperate last grasp for reality. I thought he was kidding around. Then I heard him make a noise, a small noise of pure pain.
A noise I knew couldn't be faked.
I managed to pull myself from the depths of my program and turned to look at him. I nearly turned over my chair in my haste to stand.
"Duo!" I gasped. Not much surprises me anymore. Not after all the death and bloodshed I'd participated in and witnessed. But never, never in a million years did I expect something as horrible as this.
Duo, my best friend, was leaning against my doorframe, one hand supporting his weight, the other hand clutched to his chest. Dark stains marred the black of his shirt, and clung to the white of his collar. He tried to take a step toward me and failed. He pitched forward as if in slow motion headed for the wood floor. It never happened. Without realizing I was even moving, I had covered the distance between us. He fell against me with a sickening thud and I lowered him gently to the ground.
"Duo, Duo, what happened?" I asked, my quick nearly frantic breaths challenging his slow, shallow ones.
"Assassins. Here to kill us and the others," he paused, a grin –that ever present grin- crossed his pale face, "But I got 'em."
I shook my head. "Are you sure it isn't the other way around?"
Hot tears began to sting at the back of my eyes. He was losing so much blood…It shouldn't be like this, not at all. Not with him so weak, and I could sense the fear. I grabbed him by the shoulders and half pulled him into my lap. I wouldn't, no couldn't, let him die.
"Why? Why didn't you shout for help, Duo?" I asked.
He grimaced. "I thought I could take care of it. And I did. All of them are gone, even if I will be too."
My eyes narrowed. "Don't say that. We'll get help and you'll be fine."
"Not enough time. Besides that, everyone else in this building has been drugged." He paused for what seemed like an eternity. "I thought I could handle it. I did, didn't I, Heero?" his voice became a whisper and his eyes were focused on some unseen pattern on the ceiling.
The tears, having managed to stay behind my eyes, began to fall. They fell steadily, cascading down my cheeks gently. Too gently, for someone like me. I closed my eyes, and gripped his hand. As I reopened them I saw him slowly reaching up.
He didn't touch me, but let one of my tears fall onto his finger. "I always wondered what it would be like to see you cry." He said, refocusing on me.
This took me by surprise. "I look like everyone else, you fool." I said gently.
The grin returned. "No you don't. You have special tears, because they're rare."
I was beginning to think he was losing it, but he looked so serious, even with that idiotic grin on his face. The boy was dying, and he was still grinning!
He closed his eyes and his breathing dropped. Oh, crap, I hadn't been this scared in forever. I was losing one of the few people I trusted.
It's a funny thing, crying. I didn't even realize I was. I couldn't feel it, couldn't taste it, and couldn't see it. But I could feel the sob that was growing in the back of my throat. I could feel the hollowness in my stomach. I could feel my heart ache.
I hugged him to me and the sob broke free. I wish your blood was my blood, your pain was mine, so I didn't have to see you suffer. I thought desperately.
I heard another sob, yet it wasn't mine. I looked at Duo to see him also crying. "Do you mean that?"
Apparently, I had spoken aloud. It was just as well. All I could do was nod.
The grin resurfaced one last time. "I'm glad we were friends, Heero. Do me two favors?" he asked.
As if I could refuse. He nodded. "Don't wear black to my funeral, Heero. And take care of Deathscythe for me. I'm glad we were friends, Heero." He said, his voice returning to a whisper.
He was watching me, watching my eyes. Oh God, no. No, I can't give him permission to die. And yet, that's what he's waiting for. Curse it. That's what he wants from me. To know that it's okay to let go. How could I? How could I not.
It was as if time stood still and we were in the middle of some time warp. We sat there, looking at each other. What could I do? I nodded.
He smiled.
His eyelids fluttered closed and drew a deep breath.
His last.
Oddly enough, the desk light by my forgotten laptop flickered and went out.
It was over. And his blood was on my hands. I clutched his shirt and buried my face in it. A horrible scream ripped through me as I sobbed.
I cried. I cried for Duo. I cried for me. I cried for everyone that I had seen die. Eventually, my tears subsided.
I did not wear black to the funeral.
But his blood will always be on my hands.