The Pages of Time

Warnings: 1x2, heavy angst, deathfic (don't let it deter you!)

Note: This story has no timeline. I'm saving an actual timeline for a future project. ~2003

Duo Maxwell grinned, winking at Heero from the cockpit of his gundam. The stoic boy glared, a warning in case the others were to see their shared looks. Rolling his eyes cheerfully, Duo blew a kiss to the other boy before starting Deathsycthe's engine.

The inky blackness of space was interspersed with bright stars, mere dots from their vantage point. The incredible vastness of it never ceased to amaze Heero Yuy, at least not when he had time to notice it. Everything was black, so black that it seemed to swallow you. Space reminded him of Duo's black clothes, his black gundam. But there was no time for such musings, as the enemy continually sent a barrage of bullets and physical attacks toward him. Briefly, Heero glanced outward, his eyes focused on Deathsycthe. Satisfied that Duo didn't need any help, his attention turned back to the fight.

The resounding CRACK! blared against Duo's eardrums. He stopped, turning quickly to locate the source. It was the sound of gundanium being ripped apart, a sound that made his skin shiver. His braid gently slapped his face as he turned, but it was soon forgotten in horror. A long, deep gash ran down the front of Wing, and any other gundam with such damage likely would have been ripped in half. The glass to the cockpit was shattered, revealing the pilot inside, covered with blood. The sound of his own blood rushed in Duo's ears as he screamed, fumbling for the radio frequency to alert the others, even if it was obvious that they had witnessed it, too.

There was no time to waste, and Deathsycthe hovered impatiently, frantically beside Heavyarms as it led Wing to the ground. The acrobatic gundam was unceremoniously shoved aside with surprising force as Duo nearly fell from the cockpit of his gundam. Hitting the ground painfully, he stumbled over to Wing, forcefully pulling Heero through the shattered glass. To his horror, the space helmet was cracked, which meant only one thing to Duo.

"The oxygen escaped," Quatre whispered in horror.

Duo never registered his own screams in the air, the frantic pawing of his hands to remove the helmet, to breath life back into the lifeless boy. The arms that attempted to restrain him only made him wilder, fighting like a dying animal to be released. Quatre's voice never reached his deaf ears, nor did he register that his throat had nearly closed in upon itself in his agony. He couldn't breath, but Duo never noticed that, either, even when he fainted from the effort.

Bleary violet eyes blinked, burning under the scrutiny of the safehouse lights. A worried blonde head hovered above him, and he realized that he was lying down. A dull throbbing in his wrist helped to wake him, to focus on his surroundings. Why did he hurt? Duo's mind couldn't place it…

"…Duo? Are you alright?" Quatre's voice was a mere whisper, his hesitation ignored.

"W…" Duo winced as his throat threatened to tear itself open at any use. The very act of swallowing brought tears to his already burning eyes.

"Oh, Duo. I'm so sorry, Duo. Can you remember?"

Quatre paused a moment, biting his lip painfully as he struggled.

"About Heero, Duo?"

Heero? His Heero? Bright cobalt eyes, sexy glare, gentle hands and soft grunts? The sound of metal being ripped apart, shattered glass and lifeless limbs…

"NO! NOOOOO! LET ME UP! LET ME -- HEERO!! HEERO!!!!"

Arms again held Duo down, trying to stop his agonized screaming. Surely it was a mistake, a horrible mistake. They would tell him that they were wrong, that Heero was just badly hurt. Nothing the Perfect Soldier couldn't handle. Not just one stupid gundam battle…

Nevertheless, Duo kept screaming, the shock and denial echoed in his outraged, agonized tone. He fought to get up, to find Heero, then he felt his wrist twist and black flood his vision with unnoticed pain.

"…broken wrist! Duo, stop!"

The streams of tears burned his sensitive eyes, running down his skin as if racing with one another. Snot trickled over his lips and down his chin, the sobs still hitched in his over-used throat. His entire body shook, mind repeating the fact of Heero's death endlessly.

"Please, Duo, please stop. Stop, Duo…" Quatre sobbed, throwing himself against Trowa's ready chest and arms. Wufei knelt beside Duo's bed, still holding his arms firmly, but tears trailed down his face and his own red eyes were rimmed with pain. Trowa hid his face in Quatre's hair, pretending to be absorbed in the boy's comfort, though his hands shook.

'I love him,' Duo thought blankly. 'He loves me, Heero loves me. He couldn't…he can't…no…God, no…'

There was no comfort for the three Gundam pilots after Duo passed out once more, this time from the pain in his broken wrist.

"Duo…" Quatre's pained voice was soft, barely reaching the ears of his companions.

Silently, Duo stumbled into the bathroom, his wrist clutched tightly in his other palm. Fumbling with the light, he tore open the medicine cabinet door, staring into it blankly. He remembered how much Heero had loved his hair, how he used to trail his fingers through it, bring it to his nose and smell it, how he used to kiss it gently. It was his, after all. Duo was his. Sobbing as quietly as he could, Duo grabbed the scissors in a white-knuckled grip, tearing the hair band from his hair and pulling the sections apart. Violently, he brought the scissors to the hair under his shoulders and cut at it, forcing the blades through when they caught. Long sections of chestnut hair fell to the floor as he cut, the pain in his wrist fueling his agonized actions. He cut until there was no more to cut, until his once beautiful hair, Heero's beautiful hair, lay jagged against his neck. And he fell, sobbing at the memories. There would be no end to the war for Duo Maxwell.

Owari.

C&C welcome at: Amethyst_Lover@hotmail.com