Insert crazed maniacal laughter of a fangirl who likes tormenting characters and reflecting her own bitter soul, experiences and feelings onto them. So basically what I am trying to say that this is somewhat of a sequel to Bound For Hell, which if you haven't read I would totally go and find it in my library. It covers a lot of things that are described in this like suicide attempts, the assassination, and the school trip incident as I have taken to calling it. There is also Weapons Do Not Weep, which is set in the same universe but it is incorporated into BFH anyway. This is set a year after Endless Waltz, so about 2 and a half years since BFH.
Bog standard trigger warnings apply if you have ever read any of my work. It covers depressive themes including suicide, self-injury, substance abuse, PTSD, graphic descriptions, and you know, the usual stuff that gets written about in the angst world. So basically if you can't deal with it then don't read it. It is rated M for a reason. Oh, and it might smell a bit citrusy. After all, it is 1+2. All other pairings in the AC universe still apply. And there is some slight Relena bashing [I took out the worst of it - I hate her so much].
Dear Diary. Today I did not have to kill anyone. It was a good day. Scratch that, it was an amazing day. In fact, I haven't had to kill anyone in almost two years now. Even with everything that happened last Christmas, I have not had to kill a single person. Perhaps what we did even make others realise that they could live in a world without war. Dare I say it, a world of total pacifism like Relena Peacecraft had always strived to achieve.
The blood on my hands has started to dry, and although it may have stained, some of it is beginning to flake off. Well, what I mean to say is their blood, the blood of all of my victims; the young and the old, and the soldiers and civilians alike. I am still coated in my own blood though, which occasionally spills from the cuts I continue to punish my body with. It is the only way that I manage to feel anything anymore. The deep red liquid follows in familiar paths along my skin, through the ravines of scar tissue that now look the Grand-Canyon itself after years upon years of this self-destructive behaviour. This peace though, however temporary it may seem, has calmed my soul somewhat. I am no longer surrounded by death or destruction. But what I do feel is the loneliness that has seeped into my bones. I miss my fellow Gundam pilots, my family. I miss Heero. That perfect soldier with eyes so blue that they looked like the ocean, so dark and deadly. Eyes that could be calm and joyous, but within just a second they would flitter to a glare that could have murdered.
You would have thought that after everything that Heero and I went through in those few weeks back during the war that we would be near inseparable. I desperately would have liked that to be true. But it wasn't. We loved each other, and even if we didn't say it aloud, our actions spoke volumes.
It was the night that he had found me sitting on the cliff after my assassination mission, not that long after the school trip 'incident'*, the same night I had finally told him that I loved him, despite only hours before I had sat in the cold with my gun pushed up against my chin hoping that I could provide an answer to the question that had been swimming in the darkness. Why not pull the trigger and end it all? And that why not had just happened to be Heero Yuy.
But the war had continued, regardless of our feelings to one another. We would still be there as much as we could be to comfort each other when the nightmares assaulted our dreams, where we could not escape them. And most nights we could be found wrapped in each other's arms, seeking solace and comfort in one another's presence. But Heero would still be there to hold me on the bathroom floor, as he did many nights, when he found me razor blade in hand, dragging the pristine edge across my flesh, slicing through it with the clean efficiency that I had somehow managed to perfect over the years. Silently understanding, he would tend to me as I released all the pent-up stress from within, hoping to feel anything other than the pain and guilt from all of my actions. His hands gentle and understanding as he would stitch and bandage me up. Not a hint of judgement across those eyes.
And I would be there for him, reminding him he was, in fact, a human being, no matter what 'training' and abuse that Doctor J or Deikim Barton had put him through. I would be there when he would have flashbacks to that little girl, or when he was no longer able to control the panic attacks that pounded against his mind like a hurricane.
The other pilots knew of our relationship, but I don't believe they ever cared. Even if it was nothing more than comfort and the fumbled kisses when we could steal a few moments together as the enemy bore down upon us, I relished in the fact that I had someone to protect, and someone to protect me in return.
When the war had ended though things had changed. I wished desperately that I could have clung to the friendship of all of the Gundam pilots, after all, they were now the closest thing to a family that I had. But they each had their own callings. We had stayed close at first. Living together briefly at an old familiar safe house, with all of us anticipating missions that would now never come. We were five confused and aimless boys wandering an unfamiliar world, looking for new meaning to our lives now that we had been thrown into a peace and freedom that we had fought so hard for, but never imagined that we would actually ever experience. What could we possibly do with our lives now that we were nothing more than discarded weaponry in a world of total pacifism? I think only Wufei ever truly understood that. And eventually, as months passed we began to drift apart, each of us desperately trying to find ways to cope with what had happened, and to figure out exactly how to finally begin living 'normal lives'. But what was normal to us? What others had called a war, we had merely called life, and it was all any of us had ever known.
The Mariemaia incident brought us all back together briefly, however, after that we only fractured further apart. Trowa had the circus and his sister. Quatre could return to his family, its business and the Maganac Corp. And even Wufei now had his role in the Preventers, as well as a blossoming relationship with Sally Po. Heero though… Right now I couldn't tell you where he was, and it shatters my heart to say that.
The only person that I clung to so strongly other than Solo throughout the years, and the only reason that I was even alive at all, I hadn't seen in a year now. He had been ripped so violently from me and it still feels like an open wound, raw and throbbing. Even now I can see him when I close my eyes. He's there lying in a hospital bed, recovering from the explosion of Wing Zero, covered in bruises and bandages. By all rights, the Doctors said he shouldn't have even lived through it. There were hospital machines plugged into him and they beeped quietly; monitoring statistics about him that I would never understand. But I knew the most important thing. He was alive, despite all odds, he was still here with me. He had smiled and squeezed my hand gently when I had asked how he was. "Well my eyebrows don't hurt," he had whispered, even though it obviously pained him to speak. And I had brushed his hair from his face, letting my fingers linger against the curve of his jaw, planting a chaste kiss upon his lips, thankful that Shinigami hadn't stolen my love from me. I had spent the night with my head resting against his lap, peacefully unaware that when I woke up that I would be alone, and it suddenly felt as though all of the happiness and joy had been sucked from the world. I wanted desperately to be angry at him. Leaving me without saying why or where he was going. But I just felt numb with shock. Not believing that he had even left me. Not even sure why he had even gone.
In the aftermath of it all, I had stayed in the little apartment on the L2 colony I had acquired with 'appropriated' OZ funds. And I hoped, and I had prayed that he would return to me, thinking that it was only a passing phase he was going through. After all, he needed me as much as I had ever needed him, and I convinced myself of that. I had never once even thought of leaving in case he came back and couldn't find me. But the days of waiting turned into weeks, and then the weeks turned into months. My life became a monotonous routine of waking up, wondering why I had ever woken up at all, and then reaching for the nearest bottle of alcohol or one of my razor blades. Sometimes, of course, it would be dependent on how I had slept and how vicious the nightmares were, but my skin and liver suffered as a result. And to this day I am not sure why I didn't end it all. Perhaps I was just sentimental and filled with a hope that hadn't died yet.
The days had been filled with the tinkering of computer programs out of boredom or searching through the internet trying to find any sign of my love, even if it was to just make sure that he was okay. This is Heero and he does have a tendency for overreacting to things. He may not have a Gundam, but there are still plenty of ways that he could self-detonate.
I had no need to work after years of hacking and putting money away. Originally used to buy ammunition, it now allowed me to live out my life in private, without having to deal with the outside world, after all, there was nothing for me out there, ever. My life was nothing without my Japanese boy, glaring at me, calling me a baka, kissing me gently, and holding onto me as the demons tore at my heart.
It was almost as though I had become a hermit. My health got worse, I hardly bathed or ate. I doubt that anyone would have recognised me. My eyes became hollow, they lost their mischievous spark. And my hair that was once my pride and joy would hang limply in a braid that I had neglected for weeks. I was nothing more than a shadow of the boy that I had been only a few years before. The hollow ache in my heart returned, and I forgot exactly what I was waiting for, or who I was waiting for. I would spend evenings sitting in the darkness, caressing my gun and reminiscing on that fateful night and what it would take to push me over the edge again and make me fire this bullet into my brain.
It was only after Hilde found me wandering the streets of L2 one night, drunk, and covered in my own blood that she had refused to let me return to the pit that I had dug for myself and she insisted that I went home with her. I had had little contact with anyone from my past. They would try to phone, and I wouldn't answer. I refused to give them any details of where I was living, so eventually, I had given them an e-mail address that I rarely checked, and I would spend nights staring at the screen trying to muster the right words to say to make it seem like everything was alright, that I was alright. But it would go unanswered as a call from a bottle of rum was far more appealing than trying to feign happiness, if only for a moment. The reason that I went out that night is still something that eludes me. I might have gone out for more alcohol. I might have gone out trying to get a cheap lay. Or maybe, just maybe I had gone out looking for him.
I don't remember much of those days. Hilde had been shocked at first. Of course, why wouldn't she have been? I practically reeked of depression and lost hope. And she had cared for me in that sisterly way that she always did, making sure that I got the help I had so obviously needed.
I wish I could say that I am stable now. I have my moments though. Those where I can pretend that I am nothing more than just your average 17-year-old teenager, and then there are some moments when the darkness feels like it is crushing me, suffocating me. Though I think that anyone who had seen the things that we had seen, or done the things that we had done during the war would be scared as much as we were. But somehow at least, for now, I have some sort of control on my life again. I help Hilde run her scrap metal business dismantling the Mobile Suits and Dolls left over from that fateful battle of Christmas Eve. And it is satisfying to be actually taking them apart with my hands rather than melting them down with a slash of Deathscythe's beam scythe. It feels so final like I am actually able to get some sort of closure from it all. I'm removing weapons from the world so that they can never be used again. But there is still an empty hole in my heart that has never been filled no matter how much I try.
I'm seeing a therapist now too, she specialises in the mental health of soldiers. I swore I never would see a shrink, but she is good, and I am beginning to open up about the horrors that I have seen, that I have done, and I am learning to deal with it all in a 'healthier' way, albeit with the help of a cocktail of medication including tranquilisers, mood stabilisers, and sleeping tablets. But there are still times where Hilde would come into the bathroom to find me passed out in a puddle of my own tears, blood, and vomit, and then have to help me bandage myself up. A job that I was so used to Heero doing that it pained me to have her touch me. She should never have had to deal with this, deal with me. I have also been diagnosed with a plethora of psychological conditions ranging from post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, alcohol dependency, and borderline personality disorder. But no one has been able to cure the one problem that hurts the most - the heartbreak from being abandoned.
And it was on her advice that I attended this year's Christmas Eve war memorial party. And although I didn't want to go, apparently being surrounded by people desperate to hold onto the peace that I had helped to create, seeing other soldiers that had also suffered, and a chance to see the other Gundam pilots that I had so actively avoided in the past would be a form of therapy in itself.
So here I was leaning against a wall on the outskirts of the crowd sipping a double Jack Daniels and Coke, letting the alcohol burn down my throat and send pleasant soothing waves throughout my body. I'm not quite sure what I expected from this. A plethora of political dignitaries, all in various garbs that reminded me of what the Romerfeller Foundation would wear, gathered to discuss methods of maintaining peace. There were some Preventer agents too, and a few soldiers particularly recognised for their service to any one of the various factions involved in the war. They mingled in a room decked out for Christmas cheer when they really should have been a sombre event. Really they should have have been remembering the dead.
Even Relena was here, though I tried desperately to avoid her. We had never gotten on particularly well. Her dependence on Heero, on his strength, and everything that he and Wing represented always repulsed me, even before we became what you would call an item. She never knew about her prince in shining armour and me though. I'm not sure if that would have even changed anything, she would still have chased after him. Probably even more desperate to steal him from me and keep him for her own. But things had changed, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew where he was now, and I was too afraid to even speak his name.
I took another sip of my drink and surveyed the crowd, surprised that there were people, previously enemies, laughing and smiling together, like nothing had ever happened. But somehow, even though I could have been considered one of them, I felt completely alone in the sea of people. I hoped that dressing in black would help me blend into the shadows and be unnoticed like it had so many times in the war but there had still been people who had attempted to make small talk with me, like Lady Une. I shrugged her off and she went back to entertaining some dignitary, I neither knew the name of nor cared about. I had never known her particularly well, but working as a Preventer suited her well. And somehow under her guidance the Earth Sphere and the Space Colonies had remained at peace.
It was when I went up for another drink that I finally had a chance to talk to Quatre. We'd caught each other eyes the moment we got here, but every time we thought we had had a chance to talk, there had been another introduction to be made: 'Oh Mister Winner, you must meet such and such a person' or 'Mister Winner, we're all so happy that you could come'. I doubt there was anyone there that even knew my name. And the aura that I had been giving off all night must have felt like poison. /Damn I wish this drink was poison/. Go away voice, I am not in the mood for you. I fumbled in my pocket pulling out a small white prescription bottle filled with one of the many drugs I was given to take when I felt anxious. And I had started taking them whenever I could feel that voice breaking through the wall that I had worked so hard to put in place. And even I had to admit it was probably only these drugs keeping it at bay by now.
Quatre eyed me suspiciously, as I shook out two tablets and washed them down with the fresh drink that the bar staff had placed before me. "You too?" He asked quietly as he came to stand beside me. There used to be so much joy and curiosity in those beautiful blue eyes of his, but this isn't the boy I remembered, this boy was broken. He may have been all smiles on the outside, perfect suit and hair, wealth, and an entourage of servants that he didn't want or need, but his eyes no longer smiled when he did. Even in war, there are no unwounded soldiers I thought. Even if they are not broken on the outside, they are shattered on the inside.
I nodded, "Me too". I hate to think what medication that doctors would pump in the blonde Arabic's veins just to keeping outwardly functioning as well as he appeared to be.
"It's been a long time, hasn't it? I have really missed you, you know." He rested a hand on my arm, making me look into his eyes. No doubt he could feel the bandages under my shit from the stress-induced cutting session that I had had last night but he didn't ask about it. That space heart of his always seemed to understand. And he always managed to show it with his actions, acutely aware of the effect even the smallest word would have on the psyche of the fallen.
"Yea, too long," I gave him a sad smile which he returned with one of his own. "How have you been?"
"Busy. I'm running my father's business now but it is good to be busy. It's a good distraction. Though sometimes, I dunno, I wish that I could just be a kid for a day, do you know what I mean? I never really got the chance to experience what that was like," he sighed wistfully.
"We stopped being kids the day they sent us down here to die," I whispered absent minded looking away from him into the distance, watching the people before me as they laughed and danced together. It all seemed so surreal. His hand tightened over my arm, but there was never any need to say much between us about what happened in the time that we spent on Earth. He had felt it far deeper than he had ever let on, and I suppose by now all of the pretending to be happy for the sake of others was finally beginning to wear him down. "Sorry. This is supposed to be a party. Guess I'm just gloomy these days."
"I understand Duo… Have you seen much of the others?"
"No," I replied and took another mouthful of my drink, relieved that the mixture of drugs and alcohol was beginning to take effect. "I've been living on L2 and working with Hilde. I should have visited Trowa when the circus came round, but I dunno… didn't want to bring up bad memories I guess. I haven't seen Fei either, but I know he's around somewhere tonight, probably doing security checks or something. Gotta keep the princess safe now, that's his job."
"What about Heero?"
I could almost feel my heart skip a beat when I heard that name. I'd refused to say it out loud, and even Hilde and my therapist had avoided saying it around me. My cheeks flushed and I couldn't help but cling to the glass in my hand, thankful that it was something to hold onto so that he couldn't see my trembling hands. I am way too sober for this I thought.
"What- what about him?" I stuttered. Damn it, I should have changed the subject.
He pursed his lips together in a thin line and looked away from me. "Nothing." /Something./ He was innocent, well he used to be, and lying did not suit him. The honest boy had never had much practice at it either, and as such he was terrible at it. My mind raced… Had he had contact with Heero when I had had none? Had he at least the smallest idea what was going on with him? Was he at least alright?
"Quatre… What has happened to Heero?" Why would I even want to know, I thought. Why would I even want to care after all that he put me through? I needed to get on with what my life was now, rather than dwelling on the past.
"I just thought you might have seen him that's all. I saw him very briefly before." And that's when I felt my heart shatter.
"Before when Quatre?" I tried to hide the desperation in my voice but I could feel my heart racing. My stomach began to take painful lurches from side to side, and I battled to keep its contents down.
"You didn't know? He's here. Or at least he was. He said he was going to talk to you and I haven't seen him leave." The blonde obviously distressed by what he felt clung onto me, trying desperately to stop me running to find him. I downed my drink and went to pull him away from him but his hold held me firm.
"Let me go Quat, I need to find him." I had to. I didn't believe he was real anymore. My vision began to blur at the edges and my breath started to quicken. I could feel myself being thrown into an anxiety attack that the drugs had not had enough time to dull.
"Please Duo. You need to know…" I span, surprised that I managed to stay standing, to look directly into those pained and sad eyes. "Heero, he's not, he's not the same as he used to be. He's changed."
* Long story short for those that didn't read BFH – Duo destroys an OZ base which had a school trip visiting. 10 children die. And Duo has a complete psychotic episode.
Okay, so this is chapter 1. It was going to be a stupidly long single chapter. But I felt as though I got to the point where I was considering a Heero POV in the next chapter and was umming and ahhing about it too much so I decided to leave it here. Though it has taken longer than I thought it would to write this. Well about a week, when usually I pop around 2000 words out a day. But this felt so special and heartbreaking that I did not want to rush it. So yea, I pretty much have the whole of the summer to write, ramble, look for jobs, and deal with my mental health which is getting worse every single day, so I am sure that I could probably fit the next chapter of this in too.