It all comes down to this... =*_*=

Disclaimer #1: I don't own GW...*cries*...but if I DID own it, things would be SO different, but then again if "ifs and buts" were candy and nuts, we'd all weigh 300 pounds, so there. =P

Disclaimer #2: I was an English major, so when I write, I write wordy. You have been warned. =P

Disclaimer #3 (last one, I promise): This is a very confusing story. Gomen nasai. Don't get lost. =^_~=

~~~~~~~~~~

Talking to Wufei had settled Duo's nerves considerably, overall. Leaving him to his precious book and pond, after promising to at least try to set things right before they got out of hand, he went to find Heero. His friend's good advice poisoned his good mood once it had a chance to sink in, however. End it now, Maxwell, before anyone gets hurt worse than they already have. Sadness washed over him, making the walk to the dorm seem ten times as long as it really was. The last 24 hours with Heero had been absolutely beautiful, and he dreaded the thought of letting the fairy tale end. He knew it would, once he had his old body back.

Sadness turned to confusion, and then utter frustration. This would all have been so EASY if Heero could ignore the container and concentrate on the soul! If he goes wild over this body...there's no way we can ever be together if I go back. And if I stay... He paused at the double doors leading to the hallway. Their hallway. ...if I stay, he'll never know he's with me.

One hand on the door handle, one hand on his heart. Stay this way, or put things right? Choose passion, or choose truth? His mind reeled with the sensations they had shared the night before, the warmth of his lover's body pressed against him, the sound of his ragged breathing and delicate whispers, the intoxicating scent of his soft black hair, the luxurious feel of skin on skin...

These moments of pure joy, of being wrapped in his koi's arms, were among the happiest in his life, and now he was about to give them up, toss them all aside for the sake of his damn stupid sense of morality. Fate was a bitch sometimes.

Go on, have a good long wail, he told himself. Girls are allowed to cry.

The sound of shouting down the hall broke his reverie, and he quickly crouched below the window of the double doors, peeking over the edge like any good spy would. Another shout. It was his voice! His stomach churned at the thought that Relena was in there, giving Heero what-for. No, she wasn't that stupid, she'd more likely be purposely acting like a jerk to make sure that, even after their bodies were switched back, Heero would hate Duo's guts forever and ever, amen.

Heero's door was slammed open with a crash, and a crouching figure in black ran out and threw itself against the opposite wall, shivering badly. Duo watched in terror at the twisted expression on his own face only a few yards away. Relena threw her back against the wall and stared into the dorm room; from the angle it was impossible to tell what she was looking at, but odds-on it was Heero. With one last horrid convulsion, she clutched her face and bolted for the door--the one Duo was crouching behind. He flung himself to the side at the last second, as the double doors were thrown open, and the hysterical Relena took off into the night.

She never noticed "herself" nearly land in the hedge trying to avoid the swinging doors. Before Duo could call out to her, or react in any way at all, she was using his thin but powerful legs to practically fly across the grounds. Only a few seconds later, she was gone. Duo picked himself up out of the hedge and stared across the horizon for awhile. Night had fallen, and tracking a person dressed entirely in black at that time of night was tricky at best, without the aid of heat-seeking goggles.

Forgetting her for the moment, he ran inside and stopped outside Heero's door, almost afraid of what he'd find.

"...Heero?" He took a cautious step over the thresh hold. Heero was sitting at his desk, looking away from his closed computer. His gun was sitting on the desk.

Duo sat on his bed and watched him for the longest time. He'd never seen his Perfect Soldier like this; his face was covered in anger and regrets. It was nearly an hour before he could bring himself to speak.

"I've just said something I probably shouldn't have."

**********

Run. Get out. As far away as you can. Don't ever stop running because this nightmare is going to be on your heels for all eternity. You heard every word he said, he didn't tell you to go, but what's the use of staying now? Just run. Run.

Around this corner and that, down one hill, up another. Parking lot. Bike. Keys. Pocket. Run.

**********

"What was it? What did you say?"

Heero looked up with mournful eyes. "If...if something happens...I have no right to ask your forgiveness..."

"For what? Nothing's happened, nothing's going to happen, so just cool it, ok? What's this all about?"

He shook his head. "Not for what will happen...but...for not wanting to stop it from happening." And with that, he fell silent.

**********

Faster. You're not moving quick enough. You're not running far enough. Faster! The lights along the highway flew past, accelerating until they were solid bands of liquid fire. The direction didn't matter, only the speed. Vehicles less nimble than the motorcycle swerved and jerked back and forth trying to miss the bike as it weaved erratically through the traffic. They didn't even have enough time to roll down their windows and shout obscenities at the driver.

Rain began to fall.

I can feel him getting farther away...oh God, I don't want to leave him...I just wanted him to love me! The driver took a wrong turn off the highway and down the city streets. Horns blared and people on the sidewalk shrieked at the sound, at the blur that was tearing through the fabric of night at a horrendous speed. Help me, Heero, please! I don't know what to do!

Around the corner on one wheel. People shouting. Tires squealing. Wet ground. Cold air. Truck.

Impact.

**********

The early show let out at 9:15pm. A massive rush of people surged through the theatre lobby, chattering about the movie and spilling popcorn everywhere. Among the happy patrons who were out of popcorn and heading for home were Trowa and Quatre. They'd been spending an awful lot of time at these antique movie theatres, but thanks to a wave of nostalgia, so was the entire city. They used to have the back row all to themselves, and now it was getting crowded.

Laughing and joking about having to find new hide-aways, they made their way through the mob to the front door. When they were less than ten feet from the exit, there was a faint crashing noise outside, followed by raised voices. Quatre's eyes went wide, and he clutched at his chest, leaning heavily on his friend's arm.

"Quatre! Are you alright?" Frightened for his 'little one', Trowa helped him to a red plush bench near the window. "Talk to me, please! What's wrong?"

The blond boy shivered violently, then brushed the hair out of his eyes. "I don't...oh, Trowa...something terrible's happened...out there..." He placed a hand against the window and looked out into the street. Traffic was moving, but people were running back and forth in a panic. "Take me outside, now!"

Trowa helped him up and parted the crowd effectively; sirens were heard in the distance, growing closer. The reason for the ruckus was obvious now; down the street a hundred yards or so, there was a collection of stopped vehicles and a crowd of worried onlookers. "Looks like a traffic accident," Trowa remarked plainly.

"No, it's...it's worse..." Finding sudden strength, Quatre straightened up and jogged towards the scene. He pushed past the crowd until Trowa could no longer see him. Reaching the front of the pack he saw two cars jammed together; the second had obviously T-boned the first when the first slammed on it's brakes. There was a tanker truck with "WATER" printed on the side, and a massive dent in the front grill. In the middle of the mess was a badly-mangled motorcycle, and lying next to it, unconscious and bleeding, was the driver..."DUO!!"

At that shout, Trowa pushed his way through and choked in horror at the sight of Duo Maxwell lying on the pavement, being cradled by his sobbing angel. The rain was doing little to wash away the blood pouring from an open head wound, and the broken bones sticking through his priest's clothes made Trowa fall to his knees with a wave of nausea. The sirens overpowered the sound of Quatre's weeping, as an ambulance screeched to a halt and it's workers flooded the area. Duo's broken body was lifted onto a gurney, with paramedics shining lights in his dull purple eyes and shouting his name in both ears. Trowa asked, pleaded, and then finally threatened them into allowing both himself and Quatre to ride with him to the hospital, against regulations.

One of the medics, a short, motherly woman who looked at the young victim with genuine sadness, moved to place an oxygen mask over his face. The other medic put a hand on her arm to stop her. "Lemmie get this off first," he said, reaching around the back of Duo's neck. He was looking for the clasp of the golden chain that held Duo's cross, his beloved memento of the Maxwell Church.

Trowa grabbed the man's hands and gently pulled them away, fighting back tears of his own. "Leave it on him."

The medic hesitated, then nodded, and let the woman slip the mask in place.

As they pulled away, the authorities were taking statements and filling out accident reports. A tall, sandy-haired officer took off his hat and stared at the pile of twisted metal that had once been a motorcycle; he had a son about Duo's age, a son looking forward to becoming a licenced driver. A son who liked bikes. The officer turned and spoke solemnly to his partner. "Dumbass kid wasn't wearing a helmet."

**********

Heero said nothing from the time he spoke of unworthy forgiveness right up until the call came. It was as if he had been waiting for it. There was an injured pilot in the hospital, the nurse said, but she didn't have the boy's name, and could they please hurry because time was growing short for the victim.

Not a word was spoken between them during the taxi ride to the emergency room. They flew past the admissions desk and into the critical care unit, where they found Quatre and Trowa, sitting against the wall and looking stricken. Quatre had obviously been crying, and Trowa had his arms around the boy, rubbing his shoulder and talking softly to him. Across the hall from them was a room with a huge window, from which relatives could watch their loved ones without getting in the way of the doctors. The room was filled with various holy Catholic fathers, whom the hospital had called from local churches when they saw the young man had been dressed in priestly garb. They gathered around and prayed over him, but none recognized the boy as belonging to any of their orders. As they dispersed, Heero walked up to the window and saw the object of their confusion.

The body of Duo Maxwell lay on the gurney inside, bandaged and splinted in ten different places, with all manner of wires and tubes attaching it to various life-support machines. Heero leaned his head against the glass and just stood there.

A moment later, the doors at the far opposite end of the hall crashed open, and Wufei came running down to meet them. He skidded to a halt behind Heero and looked through the glass at "Duo." Then he turned slowly to look at the other "Duo" with an expression somewhere in between infuriated and relieved.

The real Duo was frozen in place; since Wufei was still alive and well, and the other three pilots were in plain view, that only left one--himself. Trancelike, he stood motionless in the middle of the hallway, while interns and residents bustled around, talking in muted tones and passing x-rays between them. My x-rays...of my broken bones...

Wufei was suddenly in front of him. "Maxwell..." he whispered.

"...is she dead?"

"No, but it doesn't look good. I spoke to a police officer outside...she stole your motorcycle out of the student parking lot and went for a joyride down the highway."

Duo cringed. "Oh, no...no..." His voice wavered, on the brink of crying.

"Then she swerved back into town and hit a tanker truck. The streets were slippery from the rain, and she'd never ridden a bike by herself in those conditions before...Duo, the damage is extensive."

Without so much as blinking at Wufei's use of his first name, he started babbling in whispers. "It's my fault she's here, it was my bike, my body, my stupid idea, what the hell was I thinking, what am I doing with powers like these if I can't control th--"

"Silence," Wufei hissed, taking hold of his arm roughly. He felt eyes on the back of his neck and turned to see Trowa staring at him as if he'd gone mad. He let go of Duo's arm instantly. "What's done is done. Now our problem is how to keep your body from dying while Relena is still inside. If you are really the God of Death who you claim to be, surely you learned something that applies to this situation...anything that will keep her alive long enough to--" He was cut short by an electronic alarm coming from inside Relena's ward. Nurses flooded in, followed by doctors with clipboards.

Trowa and Wufei leapt to the window; the patient's condition was worsening. Quatre remained on the floor, trembling, until Duo began slowly walking closer, eyes fixed on the window. Looking up at "Relena," a strange twinge hit Quatre in the chest, and he felt compelled to stare at the face, the clothes, the braid...

More alarms sounded. One by one, the systems in Duo's body were shutting down. They were confined to the hallway, as at least a dozen specialists were now crowding the tiny ward and wouldn't allow anyone else inside; Duo wished for all the world that he could stand next to himself, to do something, anything...but this time, there was no whispering from the back of his mind, telling him what to do. Shinigami was silent.

Duo felt movement around him; the other pilots were shouting all at once, banging on the window, trying to force the door open, all for different reasons. All except Heero. He stood like a stone obelisk, cold and unshakeable, until finally all the furiously beeping alarms coalesced into a single, pure tone...and then he looked away. Relena had flatlined.

The unwavering sound of the equipment cut through the air and stabbed each of them in the heart. When the head surgeon mercifully shut off the heart monitor and shook his head, it began to sink in...I've just died...but...I'm still really here. The most important lesson Shinigami ever taught him had just become apparent to Duo--he could cheat death and win. The specialists dutifully made note of the time of death, and pulled the sheet over the young boy's head, some saying a silent prayer for his soul.

I'm not dead...I'm NOT DEAD. He could hear Quatre crying again, and he was looking back and forth between Relena's black-clad body and the corpse in the next room. Quatre knew he was supposed to be mourning, that this was the completion of someone's life, but the feeling that something still wasn't right disturbed him worse than watching his friend die.

Heero turned to face Duo at last. His eyes said there was cloud of guilt hanging over his head, but that it would soon pass. I've seen that look on his face dozens of times, Duo thought, so why does it only scare me now??

"Miss Maxwell?" said a pretty, young nurse who emerged from the ward.

"Wh-what?" Duo stammered.

"I'm terribly sorry, we did everything we could," she said reassuringly. At Duo's puzzled expression, she blushed. "You are his sister, aren't you? I just thought...well, you two look so much alike...it seemed obvious."

"......huh........yeah, that's me." The words were acid in his mouth.

"Well, this belongs to you, then." She took his hands and placed something cold in them, closing them tightly. "I'm very, very sorry." And with that, she and her clipboard vanished as quickly as they had appeared.

Duo opened his hands to look at the object...his inheritance. It was his cross. He shut his hands over it as tears began stinging his eyes. There was no going back now, since his old body was dead. He would be trapped in the body of Relena Peacecraft for all eternity, or until he found another victim. This must be the secret of being the God of Death...when others die, it gives me life. Heero took a step forward, as if anxious to say something.

Looking over his shoulder at the two pilots who knew nothing about this escapade, Heero spoke gently to Wufei. "Tell them." Wufei looked shocked for a moment, but understood what was required of him, and took Quatre and Trowa aside.

Duo was trembling now, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Heero...I...I never meant...for her to die..."

"I know." No two words of his ever had such an effect on Duo. He...knows? He can't...no... Heero reached out for Duo's cross and took it from him. "But I meant for her to die. It's my own shame that it came at such a great sacrifice to you."

A few yards away, Wufei had finished his quiet explanation. Trowa and Quatre were staring at the female version of Duo Maxwell with mouths gaping. The three of them took tiny steps towards "him" in a state of utter shock.

Duo wiped his eyes and gazed up at his Perfect Soldier. "I thought...when we were together...all you saw was her..."

A precious sight rewarded him for his belated honesty; Heero smiled and placed the golden chain with the cross around his lover's swan-like neck. "Baka..." he whispered, pulling him close and breathing into his soft hair. "Your soul follows mine everywhere. It will always be the most beautiful thing about you, no matter what you look like. I only hope you can forgive me for being so shallow...for not recognizing that sooner."

The braided pilot threw his arms around Heero and cried openly. "Oh God.....Heero...." he choked.

"Ai shiteru, Duo. Forgive me."

Time stood still as they embraced, while the other pilots circled around them, put their arms around them both, and revelled in the joy they felt knowing their friend was still alive. They understood that Relena was gone, and that someone would have to account for her soul's departure, but at that moment, nothing mattered except being together, five strong souls merged into one.

As they left quietly by the back door, Duo was only faintly aware of voices, Wufei's and Quatre's, speaking back and forth in excited whispers, trading questions and partial answers. Heero had slipped an arm around his waist as they walked out together, and leaning his head against the taller boy's shoulder, Duo's guilt was slowly replaced by relief and contentment.

...guess I'm not quite myself anymore...but I do have Heero...hey, it's not ALL bad...



~owari~


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Mitsugi: =@_@= What have I done? I took one of the most gorgeous guys in all of anime and turned him into a girl!

Duo: Don't panic, it's just a story! Look, see? *poses* I'm the same as I always was!

Mitsugi: That's a relief.

Duo: *starts laughing hysterically*

Heero: *yanks Duo's braid* What are you so happy for?

Duo: Don't you get it, Hee-chan? The ONE mission you could NEVER complete...she gives to me and I take care of it in four days! HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!

Heero: *sweatdrop* Did not. Like you said, it's just a story.

Mitsugi: A good one, I hope. =^_~= Well, what do you think, minna? Am I worthy of this wonderful website?