The
end of this is excerpted from Tony kushner's play- go buy the book!!! : )
Angels in America
Chapter Three
He could hear the pants, the
moans...the smell of cheap beer and sex wafting up to his nostrils...but he was
away, far away from this dingy motel room. An arm covered his eyes, forcing the
tears he had grown accustomed to, and then there was a snap, and the man moving
within him stopped. Some random man, picked up at some random bar...and he just
wanted to escape. He wanted to hurt, to feel pain. Murmured words, and Duo
realized it might have been important. The words were distant, though, barely
audible through his pseudo-oblivion.
"...broke. Should I keep going or pull out?"
"Don't care. Infect me. I don't care any more."
Even his own near sobs were remote in his own ears, and he could feel the other
man pull out. Mumbled apologies, an excuse to leave, and then the man was gone.
Duo blinked opened bleary eyes, reaching down to slowly pull up his pants. He
felt horrible. He felt useless, cumbersome...just another worthless ex junkee
who couldn't even stick around when things got tough.
But death...it was the hardest thing in the world to deal with. And he knew, he
wouldn't be able to cope with Heero's.
Quatre
Muslims weren't supposed to drink. But this one time, just this once, Quatre
would make an exception.
It was strange to admit, but Trowa Barton was like a father figure to him. And
now, the man had just told him...he was being disbarred. Questionable
conduct...stealing from his clients. And he was dying.
Then there was his wife. Relena. Who he loved, but he could never be in love
with. He could never be in love with Relena.
He stumbled into a telephone booth, fingers clumsily dialing for his sister.
After a few moments Iria came onto the phone, and Quatre could make out
snippets of her voice through the static of the phone line and the noise in his
head.
"...Quatre....three am....drunk?...what..."
"Iria..." his voiced was slurred, he knew, but he didn't care,
"did dad ever love me?"
There was only static for a little, and then more gentle scolding. Quatre
raised the bottle he was holding up to his lips, trying to gain the courage to
get through to Iria again.
"Iria...I'm...I'm gay."
There was silence, then her voice came through again, clear as anything.
"Quatre. Go home to Relena. And you should be old enough to know that your
father never loved you."
And then there was only dial tone.
Trowa
He hated himself. Just like, he guessed, every one else did. His life,
though...he didn't regret. He was immortal...living on in the pages of history.
He had forced his way there.
He had never felt pain like this before. It was crippling, forcing him first to
his knees, then all the way to the floor, gasping for breath. He couldn't even
call for help. His vision blacked out, then faded in again, a brown haired girl
standing where there was only empty space a moment before.
"Wha...Catherine."
Catherine Bloom smiled, though there was nothing kind in the expression.
"You deserve this, Trowa. But it's not your turn yet. No, you have to
suffer some more."
The last thing that Trowa saw, before blacking out, was Catherine dialing 911.
Heero
I told him I would hate him if he left. Now that he has, I've found that I
can't. I was expecting it, after all. I hope he's consumed with remorse right
now. And then, I feel guilty, because I know he is. Duo Maxwell is many things,
but he is not a liar. He loves me, as much as I love him, and he's suffering as
much as I am.
Not that that makes this okay. Because it still hurts, not having him
here with me. And he's still a selfish asshole for leaving.
I had Wufei bring up some stuff to the hospital...it's strange, he doesn't
condemn Duo's behavior any more than I do. I listen to my cds all day long, and
they remind me of my missing lover. Driving beats, the kind you could get lost
in, the kind of music playing when we first met.
As for Duo, he hasn't been home. No one's heard from him in awhile. I hope he's
okay.
Duo and Quatre
Quatre
sat down on the curb, placing his lunch down next to him. Three hotdogs, hot
from the vendor outside the courthouse.
"You shouldn't eat those, they're bad for you."
Quatre looked up to find Duo standing above him. "You're eating one."
"Yeah, well, it's the shape- I can't help myself. Besides, I'm trying to
commit suicide."
Duo sat down on the curb beside the blond lawyer, and they both ate in silence.
Water from yesterday's rain fell occassionally from the tree leaves above them,
dripping with wet noises onto the pavement below.
"It's kind of like music."
Quatre nodded.
"Music is what bought us together, kind of."
Quatre looked over at the other man, essentially a stranger, questioningly.
"My friend and I. He doesn't think I remember, but it was the first time
we met. We danced all night. He found me again a week later, and pretended to
be reaching for the same magazine I was. It was sweet, really. I love
him."
Quatre nodded. "Are you two going to be all right?"
"No...I don't think we ever will."
And
then there were only two boys eating lunch, wondering if fate would turn out okay.
~owari~
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Louis
[Duo]: You followed me. You probably saw me that day in the washroom and
thought: there's a sweet guy, senstive, cries for friends in trouble. Joe
[Quatre]: Yes. (Joe reaches tentatively to touch Louis's face)
...
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