"Running to Stand Still" music and lyrics by U2 (The Joshua Tree)
"Still Running" fanfiction by: Icicle Raindream
Disclaimer: I am in no way making any profit off this story, it's merely for fun. (Besides, after reading this, who would pay me for it anyway? No one, trust me.)
Notes: Uhm…this fic is kinda alternate universe/reality…you know what I mean? Things said and done in this fiction do not necessarily follow any hints or plotlines in the actual TV series.
Sidenotes: Isn't this song the greatest? If you don't know it, go out and buy U2's best album "The Joshua Tree" and listen to the song. Bono sings it with such feeling, it was hard not to write a fic to this. (Besides the fact that U2 is one of the greatest bands around…and they've been around a long while! Over 20 years!!) Enjoy…tell me what you think!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So she woke up, she woke up from where she was lying still
Said, "I…I gotta do something about where I'm going."
Step on a steam train
Step out of the driving rain
Maybe run from the darkness in the night
Quatre moved away from the window where he'd been staring for the last half-hour and walked over to the small brown couch. He stood for a minute, observing the small figure of a girl who lay sprawled across the cushions, her arm flung over her head. Her mouth hung open, her breathing ragged and heavy, producing an unhealthy wheezing sound. He could see the track marks that lined her arm; small slices in her skin that had turned an ugly purplish blue color.
Please, Heero, he prayed silently, come home quickly. She needs you.
*
"Are you going to sell to me or do I have to do something drastic?" Heero spat out, glaring at the fat man behind the counter. He smelled of beer and cigars, his soiled white shirt hugging the rolls that lined his belly, and he grunted as Heero reached inside his jacket and pulled out a gun. Heero tapped it against his leg, warning the old man.
The man leaned slightly down behind the counter and reached underneath, feeling for a small box. He pulled the box out, set it on the counter, and slid it across to Heero. "Make sure you take it all," he grunted. "Otherwise the urge to shoot more will come back."
Heero glared at the man once more as he tossed the money at him, then swiped the box from the counter and stuck it under his jacket with his gun. He walked to the door and stepped out into the pouring rain, making his way to the city's underground train depot.
*
The figure shifted on the couch and the girl licked her dry lips. She struggled to open her eyes, and when she finally managed to crack them a bit, a small blonde form sat next to her, staring her down. She blinked and focused; Quatre's eyes were filled with relief and concern.
"You're awake," he said softly, reaching down to brush her hair away from her face. It clung to his hand; hadn't been washed in days. The dark circles under her eyes told him that she had had no sleep. She just had been passed out.
Her throat was thick as she tried to respond to him. "I've…got to…get out of here," she rasped.
Quatre nodded his head understandingly, knowing that she couldn't fully comprehend what she was talking about. "Later," he said gently. "You need to rest up. Heero will be back soon."
"Heero?" The tiny voice was barely audible.
"Mmm. He's bringing you something to help you sleep." Quatre's chest felt heavy as he lied to her, but he knew that she couldn't tell anything by his face. The medicine Heero was bringing would in fact help her sleep, but its first and foremost duty was not to lull the young girl blissfully into a peaceful rest. It had a more important job to do.
*
Heero shook his head violently as he walked through the door to his apartment building, shooting streams of rain every which way from his hair. One forelock fell into his eyes as he climbed the stairs, sopping wet. It had been raining in the city all day, and as nighttime approached, it didn't seem like it was going to let up anytime soon. Heero didn't care; rain never bothered him. The only thing that was bothering him right now was waiting for him as he opened the door to his apartment and stepped inside. He walked into the kitchen without looking into the living room.
Sweet the sin, the bitter the taste in my mouth
I see seven towers, but I only see one way out
You gotta cry without weeping, talk without speaking, scream without raising your voice
You know I took the poison from the poison stream
Then I floated outta here
Heero took his jacket off and flung it on the table, setting the box next to it. He turned and came face to face with Quatre, who was wringing his hands a bit and staring at him with eyes as big as saucers.
"Did you get it?" he inquired hopefully, his voice rising a little in pitch.
Heero held up the box and showed him. "Yeah. But it might take some work getting the stuff into her."
"What are you talking about?" Quatre asked with a wrinkled brow.
Heero reached inside the box and pulled out the contents—a tiny bottle and a syringe with a long needle.
"Not another shot," Quatre whined. "She can't take any more of those things. Have you seen her arm?"
Heero nodded solemnly, then set the bottle and syringe back into the box. "Has she woken up yet?"
Quatre barely managed a nod, his eyes full of tears. "Why did this happen to her, Heero? Why Relena? Why did she do this to herself?" he wondered in a begging tone, as if Heero would know the correct answer. He clenched his hands together tighter and Heero noted that he was shaking.
Heero placed a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know, Quatre," he said sincerely, softly. "Maybe we should talk to her first."
Quatre nodded and gulped. "Okay."
*
Relena sat up on the couch, rubbing her eyes. Her stomach turned and she exhaled, a long, shaky breath that hurt her lungs. Her head swirled a bit, and she looked up as two figures made their way into the living room. They stood in front of her, two fragile-looking boys, as if they wanted something from her. She blinked at them, and could already feel the tug in her veins, begging for more.
"Here." Heero placed a cup of water in front of her on the table. He watched as her trembling hand reached out and grasped it, then nearly dropped it as she raised it to her lips. Apparently it was a bit heavier than she could handle, and it wasn't even a full eight-ounce cup. A bit of water poured out of the sides of her mouth, running down her chin to her throat. She didn't even notice, just kept drinking earnestly, as if she needed the water more than anything. Heero wasn't surprised; she'd now form an addiction to anything that she'd been denied for more than a day.
"Why am I here?" she asked then, letting the cup fall to the couch cushion next to her.
Heero cleared his throat, trying to get his voice around the lump that had formed there. This was no longer the Relena he had known, but an imposter sat here, someone he didn't think he'd ever care to befriend. "Pagan sent us out on a search. You've been missing for three weeks, Relena."
"What's it to you?" she snapped, narrowing her eyes as best she could.
"Look at what's happened to you," Quatre said gently, gesturing to her clothes and hair.
She glanced down at herself and scoffed, brushing the matter off. "Magicman G will fix me," she told them. "I just need to get out of here and find him again."
"I'm afraid we can't let you leave," Heero told her sternly in a low voice. He wasn't being menacing, just truthful. He wouldn't be able to stand watching the strong girl he once knew deteriorate into a bag of skin and bones any more.
"I'm afraid you can't keep me here," Relena snapped, struggling to her feet. As she tried to get around him, Heero reached out and snagged her arm, pulling her to him. She looked at his hand wrapped tightly around her, then turned her head up to his, eyes flashing. She tried to jerk her arm out of his grip, but she was too woozy and weak. She could hear Heero's voice calling for Quatre as she struggled with her remaining strength to get away. All three of them ended up on the couch, Relena pinned down against the back of it by Quatre and Heero on either side of her.
"Why?" she shouted, making her head pound. "Why are you doing this to me?" Tears of rage and hurt filled her eyes, streaking down her cheeks, burning as they went. She writhed, trying to free herself from the young men's grip on her. Although it felt as if they were holding down her whole body, only their hands grasped her arms, strength overpowering her.
"We should be asking you that question!" Quatre said loudly, cringing at the feel of her tiny arm pulsing beneath his hands. "Why did you do this to yourself, Relena?"
She didn't answer, just kept squirming, refusing to look at him.
"Relena." Heero cupped her jaw and turned her face to his, looking into her eyes. "What made you choose this path?"
She quit moving for the moment, lost and drowning in his cobalt blue eyes. She sniffed loudly and swallowed, feeling the burn inside. "I need more," she whimpered to him. "I can't go without it."
Heero shook his head slowly. "You are not getting any more of that stuff," he told her sternly. "There's no way I will let you get near any more of it."
"Bastard!" she spat at him. "You killed my brother and now you're trying to kill me, are you? Well, it ain't gonna happen! I need it…" She began moving again, pulling against them, trying desperately to get off the couch. They held her firmly in place, but she didn't give up, just started to shout. "I lost everything! My brother…my kingdom…everything! All because of the stupid war! Why did you fight it? Why were so many innocent people killed?" She stared at Heero as she yelled, blaming everything on him. "I found something that truly made me happy and now you're taking it away from me!"
"It's not making you happy!" Heero shouted back at her. He was determined to get his words into her head. "Look at yourself! You're miserable! I'm not killing you…you are!" He yanked her arm, trying to get her to think about what he was saying, feeling the rage building up inside of him. "Think of it, Relena! Think of all the crap you've been shooting yourself up with! Is it truly worth it? To know that you could possibly be diseased and sick and die any day now? Is this better than just living a quiet, normal life as a normal young girl?" He glared at her, trying to burn some sense into her eyes. How could she be so cruel to herself?
Relena turned her vision to Quatre, on her right. She just stared at him, trying to push Heero's words out of her head. Quatre chewed his lip and looked back at her, the tears sliding silently down his cheeks. Relena felt a poke in her arm and wrenched her head back to Heero. She could see him inserting a needle into her arm and pushing thick white liquid through the tip. If she wanted anything in this world right now, besides her daily dose of the household concocted mixture of drugs, it was to get off this couch and run away, into the night. She screamed as she tore her arm away from Heero and twisted her body up, jumping to her feet. She pulled her arm easily away from Quatre and turned, searching for the door. Before Heero or Quatre could react, she was already halfway out into the hall.
"What is that?" Quatre asked, panicked. He gestured to the needle in Heero's hands.
"Damn it!" he shouted back at him. "This stuff is supposed to clear the veins and stop the addiction!"
"It'll work, right? I mean, you got some in, didn't you?"
Heero pounded the couch with his fist. "Yeah, but it doesn't matter. She had to take the whole syringe or the addiction won't stop."
"What are we going to do, Heero?" Quatre asked, staring panic-stricken at his face.
The response tore at Quatre's aching heart. "There's nothing we can do."
She runs through the streets with her eyes painted red
Under a black belly of cloud in the rain
In through a doorway she brings me
White golden pearls stolen from the sea
She is raging, she is raging
And the storm blows up in her eyes
*
Relena ran as fast as she could, out of the apartment building and down the street. Her black patented shoes, which were worn and dirty now, splashed through endless puddles that streaked her clothes with mud. She knew exactly where she was going, what she needed to get, and to re-assure herself she chanted lowly, "He's wrong…he's wrong…Heero's wrong…he's wrong…this is how it's got to be…he's wrong, he's wrong…don't think about him…Heero's wrong…" The rain pelted down on her, drenching her to her bones, which were clearly outlined as her shirt stuck to her skin.
Suddenly she slipped and landed on her knees, somewhere in a dark alley where nobody would notice her if she decided to drop and give up her run. But she didn't give up; instead she leaned down and grabbed the object that had made her slip. She studied the pearls, golden and white and somehow shining in the darkness of night. She quickly jumped to her feet, feeling the want pulling her to the familiar shack that had been built on the familiar corner.
"G!" she called as she stepped inside. A tall man dressed entirely in black with many piercings on his face walked over to her, recognizing her voice. His hands were covered in ripped black leather gloves, and his dyed hair stuck out in every which direction, the ends tipped lime green. He grinned as she held the necklace out to him.
"Payment, huh, sweet-face?" he asked, taking the jewels.
"Can I have it now?" she begged, blinking at him.
"Sure thing, sweetie pie. Follow me." G led her through the empty shack, past a partition made from a rotted, holy curtain. She sat at the small table in the back of his shack as he filled a syringe for her, then handed it to her and grinned, fingering his new treasure. He laughed delightedly as Relena lifted the needle to her outstretched arm, shaking with the thought that she could finally feel the high again.
She will suffer the needle chill
*
Quatre stood outside the apartment building, letting the rain wash down on him, sobbing softly. Heero walked down the front stoop and stood next to him, putting an arm around Quatre's shaking shoulders.
"We'll never find her again, will we, Heero?" he asked. He already knew the answer.
"No, Quatre," Heero answered, forcing the words out. "But the real Relena Peacecraft died a long time ago. Hopefully this one will go in peace."
Quatre turned to Heero and wrapped his arms around his waist, burying his head in Heero's wet shirt. Heero merely held him as he cried, allowing tears of his own to slide down over his cheeks.
She's running to stand still
*
Relena lay on G's old rumpled bed, her tongue hanging out of her mouth, slowly slipping into the comatose state of swirling colors she longed for. Blood from the recent needle pricks trickled down her arm and collected on the brown, mite infested sheets beneath her. Somewhere in the back of her head, as she slipped into oblivion, she knew that she would leave G's shack tomorrow, but it wouldn't be for very long. She would be back as soon as she found some other way to pay him, some other way to get the drugs that were enhancing and destroying her pathetic no-life at the same time.
Still running…still running
Still running, yeah
Still running…still running…
I'm still running…
End.
