Part II: Hopeless

Night had become our time, but even then I am hopeless.

Restless energy has a habit of coursing through me, and despite the comforting warmth of him beside me, I can not bring myself to sleep peacefully at his side. I move, raising myself into a sitting position, and the sheets rustle, the mattress groaning beneath me. I freeze for fear of waking him, but my efforts are useless. His body does not tense and his breathing remains slow and steady, but it is an illusion, for he is no more asleep than I.

I give him no indication I can see through his deception, and instead, I sigh softly, continuing to climb to my feet and cross the bedroom. My steps are silent, soundless against the carpet, a side effect of the years I have spent in training. Beside the window has become one of my favorite places to think, and I step into the light reflected through the glass, blinking absently in the sudden illumination.

The pale, swollen face of the lunar moon shines brightly in velvet skies, and in her luminescence I stand, crossing my arms against the pane of the window as I lean in. Scars are etched into the flesh there, crisscrossing in the golden tan of my skin, lean with rigid muscle like the rest of me. It's a necessity, that despite the arsenal of enhanced abilities J has left beneath my flesh, I still keep the physical body in utmost good condition.

I have no room for weaknesses. Nothing but perfection will do. I'm not longer mortal, no longer just a man. I'm indestructible, equally destructive, and I cannot afford the slightest flaws in my condition. I'm a soldier, a protector, strong as steel and unmovable as stone.

Our mission has become my life's blood, my very purpose for surviving. In our world, power is everything, coupled with self-control, senses of morality, and empathy toward those we help, equating everything we stand for. Our lives are a constant rollercoaster, fighting, being hunted, just struggling to survive from day to day. We live in fear, we live in power…we live for the world.

They chose me for this, to fight for them, and now it is no longer my calling…it is my entire world. It is a constant battle that rips through me- every death upon my hands, every life I fail to save- and still Duo would remind me of all the good we have accomplished, the sense of safety we have given back to those who do not fail.

It is not so much the mission as the power that rankles me. It surges through me, adrenaline and sweet, seductive power. I can feel it, beneath my skin, living through me- in my head, my blood, my soul…I can feel it.

After the battle, when I can feel the blood on my hands and feel the rush humming in my veins, it is Duo that is there, in my head. It is him I got to, him I crave, and he does not turn me away.

He has learned to expect me. Some nights, he waits up, anticipating my appearance, and others, he is asleep but wakes immediately to silently greet me upon my arrival. It is always the same after the darkness falls, darkness I can not help but feel is part of me; I feel more animal than man, dozens of voices belonging to those I have killed screaming in my head, my blood buzzing with the aftereffects of bloodlust.

My infamous control splinters, and I strip of my clothing, useless pieces of material falling unheeded to the floor. And it is desperation that fuels me to cross the few steps separating us, pull back the blankets and fall into the comfort of his embrace.

I'm desperate, seeking for nothing but the touch for naked skin against mine, his body pressed to mine, to be inside him in the one way that will drown out the voices and just leave his…Duo…Duo…nothing but Duo…

I am no gentle man…I can barely remember a time when I was anything but hardened and guarded, but Duo responds despite the savagery of my assault, nails clawing at my shoulders, legs wrapping tightly around my waist, teeth digging into my neck as he silently demands for more. He is strong, stronger than any other I could have chosen, stronger than me in so many ways, and if there is anyone that can handle me, it is the boy turned man that writhes beneath me in the night.

I'm rough, demanding, that I know, and it is an addicting feeling, riding out the edges of our very sanity, seeking some kind of relief to the storm that rages inside us both. There is something about him that sees inside me, sees that chaos beneath the exterior calm, the man beneath the soldier, and I cherish this about him, even if I can promise him nothing but this.

I never sleep the night through. Despite that I can feel the warmth of him beside me, the soothing scent teasing my senses, chestnut hair tickling against my nose as I spoon him to me…I can never sleep the night through.

I pace, I stalk, predatory and dangerous, broken and bleeding as I find myself split open for the world to see. I can feel the weight of his eyes at my back, observant, measuring, and I wonder what he's thinking, what he's remembering. I feel him, his presence in my head, and somehow, I know I'm the one in his.

I've killed, we both have. No matter how I try, I'll always see the blood staining my hands. I'll always hear the echoes of screams, the cries of those we could not save, of those who do not yet need saving. The dreams haunt me, foretelling and ghostly…empathy, they call it. I call it my own private hell.

The voices come back, weaker than before but an ever-present buzz beneath my skin, beneath this cage of flesh and bone so worked up with nervous energy I feel as if I'll burst right through it.

I hate it most when the tears come, potent and burning as I do not want them. They are emotion- pure, unadulterated emotion- and I do not want their weakness.

Morning will come, and our lives will go on as usual, as if nothing from the night before has changed me, has changed him. I'll feel his eyes, remember the feel of his body arching into me, his hands upon my skin, but I will not look his way. I'll feel his marks of possession upon my back, but I will not say a word.

I will know that I am hopeless, restless, and efforts to be otherwise are fruitless. I will fall back under the mask of perfection, and play the part of the Perfect Soldier I am meant to be.