Feeling particularly down [read suicidal] lately. My usual outlet for angst is reading depressive Duo Maxwell or Shuichi Shindou fan-fiction. So I ended up re-reading all of this last night. I hate finishing stories. I struggle so much. But I had an idea. And then Pinterest had writing prompts. Which lead to more that I could totally work with. So although this is the final chapter of Bound for Hell. I actually have a short sequel in my mind that is set post war. That is of course if I am still around to write it. Anyway enjoy it while you can oh faceless readers of the interwebs. I also changed a few things in previous chapters thanks to some feedback.

Pre-warning this chapter has descriptions of suicide by gunshot.

Sometimes even the devil on my shoulder stops and asks 'what the fuck are you doing?' And I always have the same answer for him – I have no idea. At least we can both agree that the angel on the other side died long ago.

I turned the gun over in my trembling hands. They were coated in dark gunshot residue and they smelled of the powder and death. But somehow the death that I had caused felt justified even if it didn't feel right. By killing just one person I had no doubt saved so many others. But I hadn't gotten there early enough to rescue that little girl.

The adrenaline high that had coursed through my veins just a few hours before had faded and I now felt sick to the pit of my stomach. I don't even know how I came to be sitting on the cliff edge with Deathscythe towering next to me. The night was cold and goosebumps formed all over my skin but I didn't notice. I took a deep breath and smelled the smoke-tainted air from the raging fire of the decimated OZ base in the distance, and it still held a faint static crackle from the destruction caused by Heero's Wing Gundam's beam rifle.

All I could feel was the heaviness of the cold weapon in my hand, significantly lighter now that I had filled it with a single bullet in the chamber. That was all I needed now. And two words ran through my mind, again and again, searching for an answer that I couldn't give… Why not? Why shouldn't I take this gun, put the barrel into my mouth and pull the trigger? End it all? I could see death calling me with open arms. Sister Helen, Father Maxwell, even Solo stood beside him. I could be with them again, at peace. But no, why would they be there? They had not killed or destroyed. They had not murdered like me. I would only ever see them from my cell in hell. But from that cell, I would get peace in the fact that I would never have to kill again.

Small tears I didn't even know were falling made gentle patterns onto the metal almost like spring rain. Comforted by the way the grip felt in my hand, this felt right. No chance of a recovery. No chance of being pulled back and stitched up by Heero like last time. This was final. Instantaneous. All it took was a twitch of a finger and it would all be over. And there was an odd irony that the device that helped me to create so much destruction and death would, in fact, be the tool of my own undoing.

Forces beyond my control brought the gun towards my face. My body moved on its own. The tears fell freely now, streaming over my cheeks to fall from my chin. I stared down the barrel of the gun. There was no light at the end of this tunnel, there was only darkness. And the same question kept racing through my mind… Why not?

Suddenly the gun was pushed from its target and my hand clamped down in surprise. The bullet missed my face by only a few inches, and instead of the bullet resting within me, it had fired into the sky. And now there was a familiar Japanese boy standing before me, casting shadows across my body as he blocked the moonlight from view. His eyes glistened with his own tears of sadness that he wouldn't let fall. His hands tightly balled into fists by his sides.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING BAKA!?" I winced at the venom in his voice and I tried to convince myself that his voice was not going to be broken with his own sobs.

I shrugged and threw the gun, empty of its single bullet now, over the cliff before me. Guess there wasn't any point in holding on to this now. I guess I could always jump instead.

Heero fell to his knees beside me and pulled me into his arms. His strength crushed me but I felt oddly numb to it all. "Tell me why Duo…"

"I dunno Heero. It just… It felt like the right thing to do."

His face buried in the crook of my neck and I let him cling to me, his fingers digging into my back. My own arms now limp in my lap, and even with his warmth surrounding me all I could do was mutely stare over his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his hair mixed with gunpowder and smoke. Looking back on it, it felt as though he was holding onto me like a lifeline. Why do I always hurt the ones that I care about? Why do I always kill the ones I care about? Gusts of wind threw icy chills through our skin, and soon both of our anxiety induced trembling changed to those on the edge of hypothermia.

"Listen Heero, as much as I like sitting with you here, can we please move? My butt has gone numb…" I pulled back to look at him, trying my hardest to flash him my familiar joker's smile. Damn. I don't think he was particularly impressed with that. But if I had trademarked that grin, then he would have to have done the same to that glare of his that he gave me in return. But it eventually softened and he nodded, though his lips were still tightly sealed. He let me go before standing and pulling myself up with him. His fingers lingered on my skin. It could have been the electricity in the air, or the moment between us, I wasn't sure. But once he let go of me I felt so exposed. Almost as if a warm and comforting safety blanket had been ripped from around my shoulders leaving me open to the elements. And it was only then that I realised that if I was cold, then Heero must have been freezing in his shorts and tank top, and I internally winced realising how much suffering that I was putting him through, mentally and physically.

In the hours that followed we piloted our Gundams back to the safe house in silence but in thankful warmth compared to the blistering wind. /You should have jumped. The moment he let you go you should have jumped./ Dammit, the voice was right. Being around others, being around Heero, only caused them pain. They might grieve at first but they would get over it. In war, soldiers die all the time.

Once Wing and Deathscythe were secure I found myself being followed slowly back to my room. I was half tempted to lock the door behind me but knew that the blue-eyed pilot would have broken it down to be with me tonight, whether out of love or just so he could keep an eye on me to prevent me trying to do 'it' again. So instead I just sat on the edge of my bed and removed my shoes and blood splattered clothes, throwing them into a pile in the corner of the room, leaving me clad in just my boxer shorts. Would I have tried again? Right now, probably... But I could have only cut myself again, and self-detonating seemed like such a flashy way to go out. Tonight, after all, might just have been the result of being high on death.

I looked back at my hands that rested on my marred thighs, thankful that I had left the light off so that only moonlight glistened through the curtains. I could only see the deepest and the darkest of my self-inflicted scars and they stood out against my skin like a black and white photograph. I would have thought after what had just happened that my mind would be racing and that I would be having another familiar panic attack but somehow I felt indifferent to it all. Like none of this was actually happening. I should be getting creating a fancy story to explain what happened to Heero, convince him that I was alright, that I could be left alone /so you can try again/, without him continuously watching me /so you can actually succeed this time./ But I just felt so… numb.

I think he was just as shocked as I was to find myself sitting there staring into space. In the 5 minutes that he had left me alone, he had probably expected to come back and have to clean self-inflicted wounds and bandage me. But I had nothing to show for my time other than my catatonic state. He shut and locked the door behind him and came to sit beside me on the bed. I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder. He had slipped out of his shorts and tank and now just wore a pair of loose grey lounge pants, so that I could see the firm contours of his young body and feel his soft hairless skin against my cheek. We really were still children thrown into the horrors of war. None of us was prepared or trained for what would happen, and our innocence was the first casualty.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, gently leaning his head against mine.

"I'm fine…"

"You don't look fine."

"Don't look then." I shot him a grin hoping to convince him /convince yourself you mean/, but after what happened this evening I doubt he would ever believe me again.

"Baka, you've always hidden so much behind your smile. I can't believe it took me this long to realise…" One of his arms snaked around my waist and pulled me closer. Our naked skin flush with each other's, I could feel his heartbeat, and a blush began blooming on my cheeks. I was thankful that the room was dark and that hopefully he couldn't see the effect being so close to me was having.

"Heero, I…" I sighed, closing my eyes. There was nothing I could say that would make this better, but I didn't have a chance to. His soft lips pressed against mine, and it took my breath away. It was only a short kiss, but enough to leave his taste on mine, and it left me craving more.

"What are you so afraid of Duo?"

"You…" A puzzled expression flickered across that perfect face. And I found myself returning the kiss this time, just as gentle as he was with me, but this time I pulled him to lie down with me. "I'm afraid of what this war has made us become, of what it is going to keep doing to us. I'm afraid of all these demons and memories when I close my eyes. But most of all," I sighed, "most of all I'm afraid that if I kiss you I won't be able to stop." And this time I moaned as our lips met halfway, both of us needing the other, needing to communicate all of our emotions in actions rather than the fumbling of words.

Eventually, we needed to breathe and we pulled away slightly, his forehead resting on mine. The heat from his breath fell across my skin as he panted. I could see every shade of the blue of his eyes and I got lost in them.

"I love you Heero."

The words escaped my lips before I had even realised that I had said them. It was the first time I had even admitted to myself or to him that I felt that way. Stubborn as I was to allow someone that I could care for so deeply to enter my life again after all that happened. But in my mind, all I could hear were his words, 'the only way to live a good life is to act on my emotions'. My emotional state might be as unsteady as rapids in a forest, but the only constant there is Heero wanting to protect me. Was realising it, at least for now, a good enough reason to continue living, to continue fighting? Is that what love is?

"I love you too."

-END-

Okay… that was a weird ending. I had great plans last night before I went to sleep for this. And it has taken me the better part of a day to write this and then it has continued to evolve. Let's just get one thing straight. This is the fairytail ending, and in no way does the words I love you magically solve every problem [well it does in fanfiction but that's beside the point]. Hell I know that from my own experience. But at least finding someone who can understand and help you through it all can help, at least a bit. So that said I kind of want to write a sequel(s). Hell I can imagine a miniseries of traumatic events that they have to deal with together, including pre and post Endless Waltz. And at the moment I at least have a little bit of time left to do it in.