Disclaimer: I won't insult your intelligence, you know the score.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Suicidal Thoughts
Notes: Another warm up exercise in writing. Set almost immediately after the end of the main series.
Synopsis: All we have is our stupid ordinary lives.
Our Stupid Ordinary Life
By Doctor Megalomania
"Can I just ask you a question?"
He barely looks at me, I wait. He finishes cleaning his gun, and carefully puts it down. He looks at me patiently. I try to rally my thoughts, before I open my mouth and possibly make things worse. "Um." I pull the chair out, sit down opposite him and take another moment. I clasp my hands, trying not to fiddle. He stares at me, eyes all unfathomable. They've been like that for a while. "Hm. Heero-"
I pause again. Look out the window. Our apartment is charming, the kitchen has a fairly decent picture window – you can see the whole city. We've worked so hard. Got so far.
"Look."
He doesn't say anything.
"Okay. Heero... Um." I breathe. "Heero... is... is the only reason you haven't... you haven't killed yourself … because... because you haven't figured out…" I swallow. "You haven't figured out how to do it... do it in such a way... oh god." I pass my hand over my eyes, think stupid, think. "In such a way that doesn't … inconvenience anyone else?"
If possible, his eyes turn a shade flatter. He thinks for a moment, and I can see he is trying of thinking of a way of answering which doesn't upset me. Finally, he nods.
I have to take a deep breath. "Okay."
He keeps still. It feels like the oxygen has been sucked out the room. I'm not sure what to do.
"Okay...Um…"
He stares at the table. I can see shame flicker in his blank expression. I realise despite it all, he still thinks he's failed the mission. It seems so strange in the middle of our kitchen, with its mismatched mugs. I glance at the mug tree, we have too many and yet Une insists on getting me a mug every year. Can't seem to look away from the kettle, and the stupid knitted owl teapot Trowa bought us. I look at the life we've got. Our stupid ordinary life. It's everything I've ever wanted. All the way from the streets to here. It helps settle my mind. I look back at him.
Smile, though it's hard.
"How can I help?"
"I don't know."
This time it's easier to smile. "That's okay."
He looks at me. "I don't know how to be happier."
"That's okay." I say, "You don't need to be happier. Don't have to make yourself... be anything." I swallow. "I don't know how to help you. But... I'm here?"
A smile touches his lips, so faint. "I know." He looks at the table, "You... You make it easier?" He doesn't sound sure. "Everything is so…" He winces faintly. "I would…" He pauses, unsure. "I would let go... I mean, nobody really needs me...The Preventers. The war is over. I'm … I was never supposed to survive. And I have."
He looks up at me.
"You … I look forward to…" he gestures the kettle loosely. "Tea. And... then we watch TV… and actually, I quite enjoy the cleaning... It's ours?" He moves his hands in a vague manner. "It's our thing... I never expected. We built this thing. I … I don't want to... hurt you."
He stares for a moment.
"And some days... it's enough. Is that … okay?"
I nod. "Sure thing." I nod a little surer. "Yeah, I mean. Any day when it's not? Let me know? I can make tea. I can do that."
He nods. "Okay."
I point to the kettle, "Do you... do you want some tea? Like, now?"
"Yeah, tea. Tea would be good."
I get up, and move around the kitchen. I make us both a tea. I put his mug in front of him, put a hand on his shoulder. He's solid and warm. I lean over and press a firm kiss against his temple. He leans into me.
We'll make it through another day.