Letter to the Pilots: Heero's Dead
Heero was walking along an abandoned street. He felt numb. He had left the apartment that he was living in: he couldn't sleep. He was headed towards a bar; he didn't know which one. For a while after his roommate fell asleep, Heero had slept, but then he woke, it had to have been about an hour ago. It was 2:00 a.m. now. The interesting people will be coming out about now, he thought. He kept walking. He found his feet taking him into a bar that he would never go into if he thought somebody might recognize him. He didn't have to worry about that that night. Duo was asleep, Trowa, Quatre, and Wu-Fei wee in a different country and the nearest OZ base was two cities over. So he wasn't concerned when he found his feet taking him into a gay bar.
At first nobody paid him any mind. He went up to the bar and asked for just water. As he was sipping the cool, flavorless drink, this guy came over and sat next to him. The guy had a ponytail. Heero thought, not as long as Duo's but not as short as Wu-Fei's. The guy had light brown hair, blond in some places. It went down to about his waist1. He was slender, not skinny but slender. He was well built. He had a graceful way of moving. As Heero watched him out of the corner of his eye, he was reminded, at least a little, of his roommate. The guy had a long, slender face; his eyes were a soft shade of green. He had full lips; they were currently curving up into a small, shy smile. He's looking at me.
"Hi, I'm sorry, I should have asked before I sat down. Is anyone sitting here?"
"Hmmmn," He's polite. "No, you may stay." Heero said in his usual monotone.
"That's so kind of you. Can I buy you anything to drink?" The young man had a deep voice, a voice like silk. It was smooth and soothing. Heero watched the guy. He was trying to tell if he was just being kind or if he had some kind of hidden motive. Heero scanned is face. He nodded.
"Sure." The teen told the bar tender to give them a half bottle of his best wine. When Heero tried to protest, his new acquaintance silenced him. Heero sat with this young man for a while. The talked. Heero found out that this man's name was Andrew. That Andrew was English and that he was 17 years old2. He had dropped out of high school because he was too smart for it. He made his living as a mechanic. He didn't charge much but that got him business. He was orphaned as a young boy3 and had been taken in by a street5 gang. He wouldn't go much farther about his past. After Heero and Andrew had finished the wine, Heero thanked Andrew for the drink and got up to go.
As Heero got up, so did Andrew, saying, "Why go? Stay. Please. If it's that the drink is gone, let me buy another half bottle. Please stay—"
Heero interrupted him, "It's not that, it's just that it's late. Almost 4:00 a.m. I need to get back, if I'm not there when my roommate wakes up, he'll worry. You're wonderful company, but I have to be up by 8:45 and I want to get a least a little sleep."
Andrew took that well. "Oh, alright, I understand, have a good night!"
That look in his eyes just now wasn't too friendly. Heero had thought he saw a malicious glint in Andrew's eyes when he had said "Good night." No, I'm just paranoid. Heero turned and walked out of the bar. Heero had walked about halfway back to his apartment without trouble. At E. Rose Ave. the trouble started.
Heero was taking a shortcut through a dark alleyway. This was the only part of his walk that he was upset about not having his gun. He sighed, "Ah well, I'll live." He walked in. About five feet or so into the alley he was attacked form behind. Someone had grabbed him and put a dagger at his throat. Heero's training took over.
He grabbed his attacker's wrist and squeezed the pressure point, forcing him to drop the dagger. Then Heero threw the bigger man over his shoulder and into the wall in front of him (knocking the guy out). As Heero's eyes adjusted to the little light in the alley, he saw that there were five guys that had surrounded him. Damn! Where did they all come from!?! What do they want!?! Heero tried to make out faces but he couldn't; the men were masked.
Heero got down into a fighter's crouch and turned on all his senses. He would be ready this time.
He would have been ready had it been one to three of them, but not all of them, plus the guy that he had thrown into the wall. Together the six of them managed to immobilize the x gundam pilot. When they finished, one guy was kneeling with Heero's wrists (above his head) held by his bent legs4. Another guy was kneeling on Heero's feet. Heero was on the cold, hard ground. For the first time since he had started his training when he was three, Heero was utterly and completely helpless.
The guy who was apparently the leader of this bunch of thugs stepped forward from the wall, pulling down his mask. The guy squatted down next to Heero. He shinned a flashlight in the teen's eyes. Heero was momentarily blinded. When he could see again, he didn't believe what he saw.
"An…Andrew?"
"Andrew smirked. "Nobody walks out on me, especially someone with your body. Gag him!" And Heero was gagged. His hands were tightly tied behind his back and he was held from behind with a dagger at his windpipe. Heero was then stripped. If the clothing couldn't come off, it was shredded. He was naked, in a dark alley, at 4:15 a.m., with a bunch of thugs that he didn't trust on bit. Can you blame him for being scared? I'm not gonna go into the details, but he got raped by each of the six of those guys, one after another. And then they all went again. Through this whole ordeal, Heero was crying. Why me, he thought, Why me, why now?
After the punks finished, they left him, shivering in the cold, cold rain. Heero somehow managed to crawl back to the apartment. I found him dead two hours ago. It was 8:45. He had slit his wrists and was lying in a puddle of blood on the floor. The worst part? There were tears on his cheeks. How do I know the conversations and Heero's thoughts you ask? He wrote me a note saying all that I said in this letter. The last lines said, "I'm sorry. Duo you deserve better than me. I'm filth, I'm nothing, I'm evil. I have always loved you. Goodbye."
The funeral is Friday; it's in Tokyo. They're doing this whole big ceremony on Sunday to celebrate the hero that he was, ending the war and all. I'll see you then.
Your partner and mourning friend,
Duo Maxwell
Notes:
1. Duo's hair is about down to his knees when lose, this is how I'm measuring.
2. Heero's 16 in this.
3. He was about 2-4 years old.
4. Heero's wrists are in between the guy's upper and lower legs, in the back of his knee.