Disarmament

comet01

Disclaimer: God bless Bandai and Sunrise for Gundam Wing. I am not prostituting their creation for monetary gain. Yeah.

Pairings: 2xH is the main pairing. Will probably be a minor pairing of 1xR, or something like that (but maybe not…I don't know where I'm going to go with this story yet).

Warning: This is my 2nd fic, and I've only been working on my 1st for less than a month, so it's very possible that it will suck.

So I'm writing this guy concurrently with my first fic, just because I got sudden inspiration to write about Duo. If you don't like a sophisticated Duo, this story probably isn't for you. Please enjoy!

Chapter 1-The Staircase

"The 15th anniversary of the Maxwell Church Tragedy to be acknowledged today in the L2 sector." Duo Maxwell had read the headline four times now, but still couldn't get himself to move to the next sentence. The paper had become nothing more than a pad of swirling black ink on a gray canvas. Memories seething out of his mind, he absentmindedly picked up his strawberry danish and slowly started chewing on it.

He angrily crumpled up the paper and deftly tossed it into a trash can across the room. When the ball made it in, a little smile came across Duo's face. He slowly leaned back in his chair, observing the robust chatter in the diner. He let the quiet voices fill his ears like a Gregorian chant, bringing an image of apocalyptic marching to the forefront of his mind. Referring to himself as the "god of death," he rather liked this image. He calmly got out of his seat, throwing a few bills on the table and stealthily took his leave.

As Duo walked by, all of the shopkeepers were closing up and securing all of their possessions. If he hadn't known any better, he would've thought that it was an international holiday. He knew that wasn't the case, though. The Maxwell Tragedy had twisted the people's hearts into a disfigured, hopeless, forlorn monster. Duo knew that there would be a riot today. He looked down at his feet, submerged in a healthy puddle on the sidewalk. He could see a blurred version of his reflection. I won't have anything to do with this. I don't need anything else to be ashamed of.

The streets were flooded. Cars were backed up as far as Duo could still see their headlights. As he looked up again, the rain swept across Duo's face in a fiery stampede. The water dripped from Duo's black hat as more soaked through his black, priestly uniform. The only thing he could see in front of him was a red, flashing light, along with the barrage of earthly tears.

Duo continued to walk. He had become desensitized to his own shivering. I'm going to pay my respects. Nothing else will happen. He had been paying his respects to the church every year since the World Nation was formed in After Colony 196, and, every year, he found himself more and more reliant on the forgiving atmosphere of a graveyard. He was, after all, the god of death.

Then, he arrived there. He looked up at the church. What used to be a small, house-sized building for idle worship had become a gargantuan of a memorial that stood over 200 feet tall. Next to it laid the cemetery, where every member of the church, as well as every resident of the colony who had died in the war, was buried.

Feeling a pang in his stomach, Duo ascended the marble staircase to enter the building. He was careful with his footing as he looked down at every step, carved to perfection. Duo marveled at their beauty; this staircase was truly a work of art. He bent down to touch one of the stairs. He felt the transfer of his emotions from his heart into the cold stoicism of the marble. The tears began to pour from his eyes. Someone else remembers the church, too, or these would've never been built…He picked his head up, but stayed seated. The gloomy sky and the loud clashing of thunder allowed Duo to systematically clear his mind of all conscious thought. After that, he would have the strength to stand up.

"Hey Duo, whatcha thinkin' about?"

"Oh nothin', Hilde baby. Why do you ask me that so much?"

"You look so sad. I'm worried about you."

"There's nothing to worry about. Just relax. I can't smile all the time, you know." "Duo…"

"Love ya, babe."

Duo clutched the railing on the staircase and forced himself back up. With the secrets of his baggage-laden subconscious mind revealed, he continued to climb the stairs, still softly admiring the sharpness of the marble. He attempted to smile, but he could only get halfway. His admiration for whoever commissioned this beautiful staircase knew no bounds. Yet, the unbearable sadness would inevitably find its way into his heart every time he walked by here. Today was worse, though. Today he would have to go in.

As he reached the top of the staircase, Duo turned around and looked back at the bottom. Even with the rain turning its surroundings into a muddy quagmire, Duo knew that those stairs would never lose their pearly-white shine, even if it was the first time he had ever seen them. Finally, he was able to smile. He knew that it was a part of the church that would be around forever. He then looked at the plaque that was previously covered by his feet. THIS STAIRCASE WAS FUNDED BY QUATRE RABERBA WINNER, IN HONOR OF HIS LATE FATHER. AC 202.

The name danced across Duo's eyes. …Quatre? Suddenly, he felt warm. He hasn't forgotten about me. He approached the giant wooden doors. With a metal clasp in hand, he slowly opened the door, putting all of his strength into the door.

When he finally managed to pry it open, what he saw on the other side filled him with joy. "Wow, you guys are all here? You must really love me a lot!" There he saw, in order: Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton, WuFei Chang, and Quatre Winner. They all came back…for me.

"Duo, we knew you'd be here." The light, caressing voice was that of Quatre. "We wanted to be here for you, especially since a certain rumor's been going around…."

"Yeah, the riot…man, a lot of people are going to get drunk today." Duo lowered his head as the thought shot into his mind. It disgusted him. "So I guess I should show you guys around, huh?"

"No, Duo, that's fine. We've actually been looking around ourselves for the past hour or so. This memorial really is beautiful. A lot of people must have loved this place." The five men grew silent for a while, staring at each other morosely. Quatre finally spoke again. "We were hoping that you'd come to lunch with us. We could all catch up."

Duo smiled. "That sounds good, but I'm not quite done here. Maybe I'll catch up with you guys?"

"That sounds wonderful." Quatre handed Duo a dozen of white roses. "If you're visiting Sister Helen or Father Maxwell's grave site, I'm sure you'll want to give them something…even if it is pouring out. Have my raincoat, too."

"Quatre, I can't…"

"It's okay. Really. I can just get under WuFei's umbrella."

"Okay. I guess I'll meet you guys across the street, then. Don't wait up for me too much, though, you hear?"

Quatre nodded, and the other four men walked out the door, leaving Duo to his thoughts. Wow, didn't see that coming…I'll just have to give these flowers to the good father. He opened the door, getting one last shot of the memorial before he left. After all, he went to the memorial site several times a year. Visiting the father's grave, however, was something that Duo wasn't emotionally fit to handle more than once a year.

He stepped outside. The rain had calmed significantly, almost into a mist. Duo found the shower comforting. As he mucked across the path to get into the cemetery, he grew more and more weary. He looked at the sea of graves, reading every name on every headstone. The names were burned into his mind, but he always checked to see if there was someone new, or if there was a new memorial donated. He scrupulously scanned the premises, but found nothing different than the last time he was there. Part of him was relieved that they hadn't found any more dead soldiers in space, but his heart wrenched at the thought that, possibly, people outside of the L2 sector had simply forgotten.

After scanning every grave of every fallen soldier, he went to the corner of the cemetery. His heart started thumping as he made his way to the memorial. His thoughts quickly turned to Sister Helen teaching him to braid his hair. It was a lovely memory. But then he remembered just a little while later…she had been laying on the ground, blood staining her face, telling Duo about Father Maxwell's death. Her voice in his head was melodic, telling of the man's courage to stand up for pacifism. He remembered the explosion, the shrill cries, the Alliance soldiers heartlessly running through the colony with guns loaded. Then, the most bitter memory of all came. He remembered Sister Helen, slowly unwinding in his arms, letting go of her ephemeral life as if it had been nothing more than a blip in the universe. There was nothing platonic about her death, though, and it was certainly true that nothing good came out of it. That was how Duo turned into the self-loathing, friend-seeking, clingy, emotional, passionate warrior that he was.

He knelt down at the two simplistic graves. They were nothing more than flat, gray stones that sat on the ground. They were somewhat elliptical, but time had worn them down ever so slightly, making the edges cracked and boxy. They bore nothing more than the names of his two caretakers, and when they died. Nothing more would ever be remembered of them, except for him.

"Hilde, I need to talk to you."

"Duo, are you okay?"

"This is really important."

"…Sure. I'm listening."

"Hilde, I've been treating you like shit for over a year."

"Duo…"

"It's true. Hilde, you're the one good thing left in my life, and I can't even give you the treatment you deserve…"

"Duo, please…"

"No…you deserve better than this. I have a lot of baggage, you know. I had friends, too, with the same problems that I have right now. But they've all moved on, Hilde, and I'm still pushing all of my baggage on you. It's not fair to you."

"Listen to me…"

"I can hear you crying every night I come home, worrying where I am. I can tell in the morning when I had a nightmare, because you're still stroking my hair and singing to me in the morning. And then, whenever I have off, all I do is walk around by myself, leaving you alone again. Hilde, I can't do this to you anymore. My misery isn't something that should pull you down. I'll be back for you, Hilde, but not until I can make you happy. When the baggage is gone…I'll be coming back…"

"But I want to be there for you. Nothing makes me happier than the thought of you being happy again. I know I can help you…"

"I wish you could, but the good father only lives in one mind, babe. This is something I have to do on my own, even if I wish it wasn't."

"Duo…I love you."

"…I love you, too. I love you more than anything. I'd never think of another girl if I could always be with you. That's why I'll wait for you…as long as it takes.

"Oh, Duo…"

"Go ahead and cry. I know I will everyday…"

"I…I should go now…"

"I'm sorry."

Duo remembered the warmth of the embrace before she walked out the door; they both had tears in their eyes. They were immobilized in the moment, and then he kissed her. The tears streamed as she quickly turned her head away and left. She was the last positive aspect of his life, and he'd be damned if he could never have her back.

He set the roses between the grave markers, kneeling down and taking his hat off of his head. Father, I may not believe in God…but I believe in you. Just give me some of your strength so I can forget everything …I want to be the jolly one again. Please, help me forget about the war…and you. Please, father…

Duo stood again, his hair flapping in the wind, and his face stained with tears. He looked down at the graves again, and raised his voice to a docile whisper. "I've never had more nightmares in my life, but you said the worst of pain comes right before the full recovery…. So, does that mean I'm almost there?"

Duo left in contempt after the rhetorical question. He felt no better than he did before he came. Then again, this was the sort of thing that took time. Duo's patience was wearing thin, though. Maybe lunch with the guys will help. It'll take my mind off of death…for a little while, at least. I need a sweet joke, though.

And, somehow, thinking of a joke seemed to make everything better. It was like he was thinking clearly for the first time.

Sorry that my chapters are always so short. I'm working on it, though, really (I think that this one is the longest one yet, believe it or not). Later on I might go through and combine some of the chapters for organization. On a completely different subject, I could really use an editor if someone was willing to do it…if not, whatever. But the whole story will be as choppy and error-laden as this first chapter. Anyways, hope you liked it!

comet01