Title: Collide- Duo's POV
Author: Pathetic Otaku Child
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Don't own GW. Don't remind me…
Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 5 by his sad widdle lonesome. TT.TT
Warnings: lots of very bad language, shonen-ai, Duo POV, magic, supernatural beasties, Hellish fiends (AKA Treize and Dorothy. And Relena), Senile old men, yaoi, possible lemons in other chapters.
A/N: This is a joint ficcy with Haliaetus. I write Duo's POV, she writes Heero's. They're posted separately. You can probably read just one and be able to get it if you're too lazy or don't have the time to go look her up as well, but you should anyway. But it was my idea originally. Mine!
Prologue
The ashes fly by us gently in the wind, brushing against our faces. But we don't care in the least. We're too busy contemplating on what has just happened. There is almost a music in the wind: A whispering chorus. The steady beat is provided by our hearts. The grass whistles almost as if to accompany it. Our job here is done… for now. Because the cycle never ends. When we find the next group, and get them ready, though I for one will be damned before I become like one of the last batch. Then we'll be done, and then we can finally die in peace. Until then, we'll have to live with our sins, and with each other. Then again, who said that was a bad thing? I want to sing with the wind, but there aren't words, just a feeling. I wonder if the other guys feel it. I want to dance with the world, slowly and painfully, along to the music that only I seem to hear. Just to confirm that this isn't a dream. I am alive and free for the first time in my young life. At the same time, I feel like a sudden chain has been slapped around my wrists. But chains can hold a person's sanity in place. I have a promise to keep. My hand reaches out to grasp that of the boy standing to my left. He looks at me sharply, as if I broke him out of a trance or a nice dream. But then he smiles. It's really small, and most people wouldn't recognize it for what it is. But I do. And I know that no one else will ever see that smile but me. We look back out at the now empty plain. It's done. And it's time to go home.
--------------------------------------------------
Where does my story begin? I was born, for one thing. From who, I don't know. I doubt I ever will. I had two families growing up as kid. The first was the street crew I ran with until the age of seven. One by one, they all either got sick, or caught by the police, or went someplace with some guy, only for a little bit but ended up never coming back. The gang wars were what finished us off, though. In that last fight, everyone died. 'Cept for me. Solo fell on me when he died. I couldn't move and I couldn't scream, 'cause more bodies landed on top of him. I finally was able to dig my way from under the pile of dead bodies, but that was after it was too late. Police had already arrived. I was taken into their custody and questioned. A lot. But I didn't tell them anything. I couldn't betray the guys, even if they were dead. So I got packed off to this orphanage halfway across the country. Unfortunately, after only a couple of years, I lost them too. Which really was a crying shame. I was just damned lucky that I hadn't been around; I'd gotten detention at school for fighting. Again. Being stupid like that is what saved my sorry ass. It does seem to be what I'm best at. After that, I couldn't stand to go to foster homes, as I knew I would if I waited around for the authorities. So I left. I had been surviving since then on the streets, hitchhiking or stowing away when I needed to move on to another town, because of- err ….pressing circumstances. Like getting someone in some gang pissed at me. Or getting in a bit of a squabble with the boys in blue over whether the five fingered discount could be considered legit in some states. That is, until I turned sixteen. You must have noticed the 'had' up there. I was pretty excited, though, 'coz in a couple years I'd be 18 and so be running from the cops for one less problem.
But then, one night in February, all I was doing was walking down the street, minding my own business and wondering where I could steal myself a coat from, when this black car pulls up in front of me. Just like outta the movies, yanno? 'Cept, when a couple of the cliché buff dudes all in black jumped out, I wasn't able to fight 'em all off. Whadda ya think I am, Batman? I mean, I'm just a scrawny kid who's been living off what I can steal or get from dumpster diving. Not exactly the right growing material. I have been told that my attitude more than makes up for my stature. I never asked if that was a good thing. Anyway, so this big group of action movie dudes jump me and I fought as well as I could with my switchblade against their fancy martial arts shit. I think I may have killed a couple of 'em, and injured three others. But I was still blindfolded, tied up, and stuck in the little car. I'm sure that they regretted not having a gag though.