Pairings: Eventual 1x2, mentions of 3+4
Warnings: Light slash (shounen-ai), foul language, bastardization of other pilots, angst, sap
Disclaimer: I don't make money, honestly.
Summary: After being pronounced dead, Duo moves on and starts his own new life as a new person. But when the his fellow former pilots get wise to Duo's new life, he finds himself at loss for what to do.

Writer's Block

I may not be a religious man, but I know a sign when I see one. Coming home after one drunken evening of wallowing in despair to find your home up in flames is what I call a sign. A sign that maybe my life wasn't going where it should be, and I should stop this downhill tumble I'd been on since the war.

At first, I was going to go up to the firemen and tell them that I was fine and perfectly okay. I'd left my car at home, walking down to the local bar and drinking myself into oblivion. I was actually pretty out of my mind, and stopped when I heard one of the reporters say distinctly say in something that still haunts my nightmares, "We're here on the scene where former Gundam pilot Duo Maxwell has been pronounced dead."

I just ran. Don't ask me why, in my drunken stupor it seemed like a good idea at the time. I woke up the next morning with the worst hang over in the world in some cheap motel. I turned on the TV and watched the report on my death. I was dead.

It was actually somewhat ironically funny how I was presumed dead. Apparently, when I was in such a rush to get away from my hell of a life and go get drunk, I forgot to lock the door. And some smart bastard found this and decided he'd just rob a Gundam pilot. Well, when he was inside, there apparently was a gas leak from my stove, and the wise ass lit a cigarette and BOOM, up in flames he went.

Not only that, he was the exact size, weight, and blood type as me. Not that there was much for them to get blood off. The guy was a pile of ash in a pile of ashes. My house was non-existent anymore, and some poor fuck was dead, but the whole world thought he was I.

So, instead of going and saying 'no! I'm alive!' I left. That's right. I left that damned colony, that Preventers job I hated that I was forced into by my "friends" to go down to Earth. I traveled for one year before I finally got around to doing what I wanted to in Boston, Massachusetts, be a writer.

Little did I know, that the first book I wrote would be come a best seller, and get me rich. Four million copies sold on Earth, and three million more in the colonies. I was suddenly loaded, pushed from my crappy one room apartment to a luxurious place I didn't even know existed.

Then I continued to write, writing romance action novels that were popular with women, and a few war novels that hit it off with the men. But, I was obviously more appealing to the ladies because suddenly I was America's most eligible bachelor who wasn't even looking.

It was so weird suddenly being in the position I had originally run away from for a totally different cause. Instead a cause I was more proud of. A talent that didn't involve shooting people with deadly precision, or piloting giant killing machines, no I was loved because I could write. And I could write well.

So I continued to live in Boston, writing my hand off, barely making deadlines and being a typical novelist. It was the greatest. I was happy, finally, and it felt good. But, I still had an empty spot. An empty spot that wasn't filled by my fancy car, or my millions of fans, something that obviously wasn't meant to be filled with material items and idolism from people I didn't know.

But I ignored this. Which probably was stupid, because soon I wasn't so happy anymore. My books still were selling fine, I still had my apartment, my car, my editor, myself. Yet, it just wasn't enough anymore. I hadn't a clue what to do.

Even this though was forgotten one winter Sunday afternoon. I was walking down the street, a warm cup of coffee in one hand, the other stuffed in my coat pocket from the cold. It was snowing, and quite a lovely day, one of the days that made me wish I were a painter.

I was walking as I said, just bored from being stuck in my apartment hunched over my laptop typing away. It was pretty normal, few people walking down the street from the cold, cars driving by, careful of the slick snow lining the streets.

I stopped, frowning down at the snow stuck on my shoe bending over to dust it off. When it was gone, I looked up, and straight into the eyes of a reporter on the television behind the glass window in front of me. It was one of those electronics stores that showcased the newest vid sets and televisions in their windows. Something as a former thief taunted me so.

It wasn't my need to steal that attracted me to the TV on in front of me now. No, it was the story this reporter was speaking about: Relena Peacecraft visiting Earth. That would have been fine if it were not for what the woman said next: "None other than our cozy city of Boston!"

I'd raced home after that, sitting on my couch and watching the same story again on another station. "Oh shit," left my mouth before I could stop it.

To be continued…?

This is some idea I got a while ago. I've tried writing it a few times with results that I hated. This one however I love turned out. I may continue it, I'm not sure if anyone really likes my idea. So please review if you do!