There is lifeblood that flows through all of us. It contains not only our life but also our energy. Amazing, to think that it can move through such narrow passages at the rate that it does. Sometimes it's a light red or a dark red, depending on which vein it's spilling from and how much oxygen is contained in the blood itself.
It has that strange metallic taste to it, almost tangy in a way and sweet to my taste buds. I love the
taste, it drives me wild and makes me feel more alive. Perhaps I'm part vampire from way back in the past or perhaps its death's way of saying that I am a part of it and that it's a part of me.
Have you ever tasted blood? I'm not talking about licking a tiny paper cut here. I mean a lot of blood at the same time. Blood from a gushing wound that you take willingly into your mouth. I have tasted it and plenty of it. It feels exquisite rolling around in your mouth before you swallow it and the aftertaste is just as pleasant as the initial burst of flavor.
Quatre hates it, the taste I mean; the others just put up with it but not me. Blood reminds me of the thirst I have the thirst for death that I just can't ever seem to quench no matter what I try. I've had it ever since the Maxwell Massacre and the seeds were planted in me long before because the taste didn't seem unusual or unnatural to me, it seemed familiar or like something I should have tried a long time ago because I know I would have liked it. The Massacre just made those seeds blossom. Blood has a sort of mystical quality; it has the power to capture your attention.
I thirst for death and I don't make any secret of it. I even call myself the god of death, Shinigami. The others think it's just my strange personality, if only they knew the harsh and frightening truth! I wonder what they would think or how they would act around me if it came out in the open. None of them know, although Heero suspects but he's wise enough not to press the issue. Eventually he'll find out, things like this just take a matter of time for him because he is constantly observing and eventually no matter how careful I am I'll let something slip and he'll catch it. Statistics and the more time that passes prove that so I gave up worrying about it a while ago.
Many times I envy the other pilots. None of them really grew up on the streets and they don't know what it takes to have to survive it as a child. There was no normal childhood for little Duo Maxwell, there never will be.
Nor could probably any of them understand my thirst for other's lifeblood when we do battle. They would be horrified to see me I think although I don't know what Heero would do for sure. He might not make a big deal of it.
Death has its appeal for me though. It's a dear friend, one I can rely on no matter what. It follows me everywhere I go and I gave up wondering long ago why it has only, time and time again, caressed my cheek and passed me by taking others with it instead even though I've more often than not felt that I should have gone in their place. The others have often berated me for nearly getting myself killed time and time again but I know that I can't die now. Death and I have an understanding. I'll help it and collect souls for it and it leaves me alone with my thirst. It was a deal I worked out when Solo died in my arms those many years ago.
I still see Solo and not just in my dreams. He's in the cockpit beside me whenever I pull my crazy stunts. That's how I know that I can get away with pulling them off and coming out alive no matter what the odds are against me. Even Quatre would think that I was crazy for that. I know it's him though, he just looks older. He looks how would be if he hadn't died. Solo never says anything he just stands there, a silent and steady presence but it's more than enough for me.
In some strange way I know that we will all make it through this war. Perhaps there will be others that will come afterward where we won't be so lucky and where only some of us will pull through. I hope we pull through if there are any other wars. The others have become like brothers to me for who I am now
in the present and some of them mean more than others do but they aren't privy to my past and they probably never will be unless I let something slip or decide to take one of them into my confidence. Until either of those happens the past will remain locked within me.
It screams at me for capturing it and holding it hostage but I need it even though it tears me apart inside to keep it locked so deep and tight within. I need it so I won't forget, so I can remember what it was like before I took the lifeblood for the first time. To tell you the truth I don't know if I even remember how to release it from where I've locked it up any longer. All people have marred and scarred pasts, mine just happens to be especially bad and ugly. At least I came out pretty much intact as a human being on the outside in how I project myself. Heero didn't, but he's improving, showing small signs of having something under that tough exterior that for a long time seemed like a shell covering an empty casing.
The lifeblood is me. I am the one who is going to live even with Death as close as it is. Heero won't die because I won't let him. He can self-destruct but Death will only brush him with the lightest of touches and then leave him. I know that with the four times he's woken up in our room confused as hell as to why he's still alive and why he didn't die because all statistics and everything else says that he should have died. I know that he knows that I had something to do with it but he can't prove it, yet and hopefully not ever.
Death won't get us yet because I am the pilots' lifeblood whether they know it or not. I keep Death from them only because Death is willing to listen to me because of our deal and because it feels that I am the perfect host for it. But I wonder if tomorrow Death will decide to cancel our deal and I'll no longer be lifeblood, no longer to be able to taste it or be able to save those I care about from dying before they deserve to.
There's only one way to find out and that's to go on living even if sometimes it doesn't seem worth it as all the people die around me and as all the screams of pain and torture flow through my head repeating in an endless cycle only to begin again. But I know one thing and that is that the same blood of Death still flows in me and so for now I'll continue on like always because I'm the lifeblood of our little group.