Strange Lover

Date: Saturday, December 15 2001.
Time: 11:26 PM
Summary: The "Koibito Hen" rewrite. Heero is becoming ridiculously violent for reasons unknown. Duo reaches out to help, and is only lashed back and overcome.
Part: Prologue
Notes: Yes, the long-awaited rewrite of my very first story. When did I first write Koibito Hen? March? Lord, that's nearly a year ago. I'm afraid to read it again. Hopefully, this version will be much better than the first. Enjoy, despise, I don't give a damn, just give me feedback, you lovely dogs, you.

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-then you die!

Sweat. Fire. Blood. Death.

Reaching out in the dark, groping the air with fear fresh and ripe in his eyes. Sheets soaking wet around him, tangled. Hot and cold and afraid, so afraid, all at once. Slowly lowering his hand to his lap, eyes lost and wide. Panting. Hard. Wet, soaking wet like the rain

Just walk in the rain with me, Heero

standing out in the rain. Images still fresh in his mind. Dreams, memories, all rolled up into a nicely wrapped package delivered instantly to your door.

"Damn . . . a dream, just a dream. A... ah.. -"

That's the last of 'em, Heero! Time to go-

"- got to get back to sleep. Just.. a dream. Just a... "

-home

Settling back against the pillow, sticky wet sheets sticking uncomfortably to his body. There's no way he's going back to sleep. No way. Just repeat the words. No monsters under the bed, no skeletons in the closet. That isn't a claw scratching the window, it's only the wind. This will be your mantra.

"Perfect Soldiers don't have nightmares."

A whisper, and a lie at that. The images coming at him like a merciless wave. Numbers, synapses, codes, last week, next year, tomorrow and five minutes ago. Fingers curling into mud-brown hair, clenching his skull in agony, a soundless scream passing through clenched teeth. His hand falling to the floor with the gentlest of thuds. Sleep washing over him like a wave, restless sleep, disturbed sleep, sleeping alone with someone else.

This will be your mantra.

Time to go-

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And this is where you scream in pure agony at such a cliffhanger, if which to call this one. Feedback is demanded. I know where you live, and I have rabid squirrels to prove it.