It was chilly. We were laid out on the grass in the middle of a field, the darkness enveloping both of us, keeping us from sight. I was laying there, keeping a good foot of space between the two of us. He was fairly silent, probably asleep. I had parked the truck somewhere in the trees, and supposed I should go to sleep too, since there wasn't much to worry about.
Things were running through my mind though. Why we were here. Why he had decided to let me come along, rather than searching out Duo and continuing on.
"Have you ever thought about the stars?"
I broke from my thoughts, rather confused at his question. I supposed now he was completely awake. "Hm?"
"If everyone just found one beauty in their life they wouldn't need to fight."
I was surprised by his sudden philosophical mood. I decided to join in now. "And what do you suppose will be our beautiful things?"
He didn't reply. Not even the usual hn.
I disliked the silence, though I usually lived in it, and posed a second question. "What will you do after the war, Heero?"
"I don't have beauty. I'll keep fighting."
I became slightly perturbed. "There won't be anything to fight for."
He was quiet for a moment. "I'll find something." He sounded unsure.
"Instead, maybe you should find that one beauty that you talk about." I didn't seem to understand the context of the conversation very well. I was always awkward with words around him for some reason.
"I have. I just can't have it." I heard him sigh.
For once, I was completely unsure what was on the perfect soldier's mind. I remained in silence, contemplating it. I needed to look in his eyes, I could usually see things then.
But something made my body freeze. I could feel fingers intertwining with my own, my hand suddenly being washed over by some other warm object.
"I can't have it because I can't stop fighting. I wish... I wish I could have it."
--
Damnit, Heero, no! I could scream, couldn't yell for him, just sit there helplessly. He had taken the last shot, blowing everything to bits, probably including himself. I always knew he'd fight to the end of this. He'd never stop fighting.
Of course, my thoughts were simple overreactions. How could I ever doubt the perfect soldier's ability to persevere? I sat at the side of his bed, looking blankly out the window. How could I have doubted it? Easily. He wasn't a perfect soldier, after all, he had his one fault.
"Trowa..."
His whisper broke right into me, my attention immediately his. "Hi," my voice seemed a little distant, but I tried to make it look as if I was fully there.
"Am I..." He trailed off, his head bobbing slightly. He was still under some heavy drugs.
"Perfectly fine. It's over."
He looked at me, his eyes the deepest blue I'd ever seen them, full of something I'd never seen in them before, no matter how many times we'd locked glances. "... over?" He asked weakly.
"No more of this, Heero. Nothing." I sighed. It wasn't as if I'd miss the war... it was just that I felt so useless after it. I'd done so much, but now, I had no where to go, no real purpose.
"No..." I heard him whisper.
"You want it about as much as I do, don't you?"
His eyes focused in on me, squinting a little. "You... want this to go on?"
"Why not? I'm useless after this." I turned back, staring at the window. I hated looking at him when I said things like that.
"You have something beautiful, Trowa."
I paused while taking a breath. My mind went back to the cold grass, the breeze, his hand in mine. We'd never talked about it, never brought it up again. We'd done it many times after that though, from something as simple as holding hands for a moment, to sometimes, when completely alone, falling asleep in each other's arms. There was something completely innocent about it. "I don't know what it is."
He stuttered a little. "You have the circus... Cathy..."
"But they're not that one beautiful thing."
He was silent. I hated that silence between us!
"Can you, Heero?"
"Can I what?"
I stared more intensely out the window, contemplating. "Be my beautiful thing, Heero."
"Trowa, I..."
"Say yes. Stay with me." I hadn't been so forward about this, ever. I'd never even talked about it for fear it would stop any future repetition of the act.
"Why, Trowa?"
"I want you to." I smiled, still looking at the window. God, I couldn't bare to look at his face. "Because I think I love you."
His breath hitched. It was a painful sound, making me feel as if I'd said far too much than I should have ever even felt. "Look at me." It was an order.
I didn't want to, nor did my body, evident by its sudden freezing. I moved involuntarily, looking at him straight in the eyes. It hurt.
"Say it again."
He didn't believe me? Is that what he needed? Reassurance. "I love you."
I could see him sit up, sitting over the edge of bed. I wanted to reach out, to stop him from overexerting himself, but he had that look in his eyes that said don't stop me. He slipped over slowly, his feet shuffling across the floor. I reached out my hand, hoping he'd take it.
Instead, he walked past it, slipping into my arms rather than just attaching to my hand. His head was buried into the nape of my neck, breathing in deeply. "Is this okay?" I asked quietly. I wasn't positive if I'd finally done the right thing, or not.
"More than okay." I felt a nip at my neck and shuttered lightly.
"What are you-"
"Trowa, I have a use for you."
It sounded slightly arrogant. I raised an eyebrow in question as he slipped his head from it's hiding place. "What's that?"
"You won't have to fight, technically." He made this odd smile. "Fight with me. Fight to get in. Love me, Trowa. If you can do that, I'll stay."