Dead Man
Author: The shinigumi
Note: No, my grammar isn't this terrible- Duo is switching to third person in his mind every so often as an unconscious way to distance himself from pain and avoid the painful truth. O.o Just read it, and it should make sense!
Disclaimers: I don't own GW (just in case anyone was wondering), death fic, angst, umm... generally not nice, have a good, healthy, morbid sense of humor. Some yaoi hints, but it's in the past- for a rather obvious reason, if you read the fic ^_^; Note: This is not the end!!!!! I'm working on part 2.
Oh, yeah- the year is AC 196, after the eve wars and slightly after the movie/OVA.
At the table in the kitchen, the dead boy smiled and laughed. Everyone was being desperately cheerful, so the dead felt he had to play along, though there was no real cheer left in him anymore. They were all ignoring the empty place, the space where one of their own used to sit and would never sit again- at least, not of his own accord.
In a fit of morbid humor, the dead boy contemplated what it would take to make him sit again. When they found his body, there wasn't much left of his head, so his presence might make everyone a bit uncomfortable- hard to act like you're having a good time with a corpse at the table.
This struck the dead boy as even more amusing, in an ironic way. After all, they were eating with two dead men now- one in the grave, but his memory hanging in the air... and the other sitting with them, letting them think that he was laughing with them. But let them.
They probably wouldn't understand why I was really laughing, anyway. They don't know I'm dead.
It suddenly struck me as odd for the hundredth time that they were all celebrating, and it took several seconds of pondering and sifting through my scattered mind for any real information before I found the memory I wanted.
The war, of course. It had finally ended, and now it was New Year's Eve and we were throwing a party. Relena had invited us to hers- but the others were nervous about bringing me too close to her right now, and instead had decided upon a private night in one of Quatre's mansions. I spent another moment examining myself dispassionately, wondering if I was bothered that something that should have been an important time was so hard to concentrate on. The dead boy felt numb, and a little tired- but other than that, nothing surfaced.
I was in shock, I knew, and realized that it might be good for me to see a psychiatrist. At this thought, I vaguely remembered Quatre suggesting the same thing to me less than a week ago. I had gone, and the psychiatrist had pronounced me mentally sound, and quite intelligent- take a few of these pills and get some rest, you'll be fine soon enough. Oh, and don't worry- the next time someone you love dies, hey- we always have more pills.
The dead boy smiled and threw the medication away; for the best quack money could buy, he fucking sucked at his job. But it was better this way, anyway. The dead boy figured that he would probably feel better with time- or at least feel something. After all, that was how it always worked- you love them, they die in some nasty or disfiguring way, and you move on to the next. Trade the old for the new. Pardon me, sir- this one's getting a little old. Could I have another? Excuse me, my lover blew his head off with my gun in our bedroom, I'd like a new one- without any of those pesky little suicidal tendencies this time, if you would. Such a mess to clean up after, you know- and nothing covers the smell of death.
But I wasn't paying attention. It was hard to keep track of reality when time kept sliding sideways, and his mind was playing every memory of Heero he had like a broken holo-disc. The others kept glancing at me, watching me like a live wire, ticking time bomb. Stupid phrase- time bombs didn't tick. They were silent, so quiet you never even knew there was a problem 'til BOOM! They blow up in your face.
The dead boy giggled at that thought- Heero blew his face off too. "Ka-boom!" he murmered softly, then giggled a little louder. Everyone was quiet now, watching him in frozen silence. At the expressions on their face, I grin disarmingly at them, hoping distantly that they don't think I need to see another mind-bender.
"What's wrong, guys? You're all acting awfully funny, y'know," I grinned reassuringly at the others, casually bringing one of the crystal goblets to my lips. I paused before drinking, glancing up through my bangs to see if anyone was buying it.
Quatre was watching me, his huge aqua eyes shimmering on the verge of tears. I winced at the pain in his eyes, knowing I was the cause- but I still didn't feel anything. "Aw- damn, Q, don't you ever relax? We're having a party, here- crying will just ruin everybody's mood. Don't steal Heero's job-" I went silent suddenly, and had to swallow hard around a sudden lump lodged painfully in my throat. Ignoring the pain firmly, the dead boy smiled brilliantly. "Heh, sorry. I think there's something stuck in my throat..."
Quatre bit his lip, and I knew he was going to try to touch me- without thinking, I slammed my weight back to avoid him, knocking my chair over and me with it. I probably hadn't needed to recoil quite so hard, and my last thought before my head connected with the floor was that Quatre would be pissed at me for breaking one of his expensive-looking glasses.
I woke up in fits and starts; impossible to tell between dreaming and waking sometimes, so I don't know how much of the time between was real or just the tricks of faeries. At one point, I think I remember Chang hovering over me, a worried look on his face. He could've been staring at me, or someone else- but there were tear tracks on his face, and he said he couldn't tell why he let such a weak fool be his only friend.
At another point, I saw Heero standing in the corner with a little girl and puppy, and I think I asked him how he snuck a dog into the hospital. He didn't answer, but the girl laughed, and I felt better than I had in what felt like forever.
When I finally woke for good, Quatre was dozing on a chair by the bed. The room was just like I remembered it from my waking dreams; air scented with the sting of antiseptics, and everything a sterile white.
I started to reach up my left hand, but there was an IV drip hooked up to it. Frowning at it in annoyance, I lifted my right hand instead, then blinked in surprise to find it wrapped in medical gauze. I tried to remember what had happened, but the last few weeks were a blur. Careful not to upset the bandage job, I reached up and brushed my fingers against the scratchy surface of more gauze wrapped around my head. I tried to sit up to feel the back of my skull, but the room swam and my breath rushed out in a gasp.
I was left leaning weakly against the pillows, panting slightly. I always push my body too far; baka, Heero would say, sit still.
"Duo! You're awake!" I gathered my strength and tilted my head in the Arabian boy's direction; he swayed like he was on a boat.
"Q..." I pleaded in my most pathetic tone, squinting slightly against the glare of the fresh sunlight in the room. His brows were drawn together in the serious, I-hold-myself-personally-responsible-for-the-sadness-of-everyone-in-the-universe look that I love to tease him about. "Stop moving like that, would you? I'm getting seasick..."
His eyes widened with concern. "Are you okay? The Dr. said that you... what is it?"
I was fighting to keep from laughing- he probably thought I was in pain. I motioned him forward with a wave of my bandaged hand, and he leaned closer with damp eyes always on the verge of tears.
"Your maternal instincts are showing." I managed, keeping my face straight for a handful of seconds before breaking into a fit of laughter. I winced, noticing too late that laughing was painful too.
He got an odd expression on his face, like he couldn't decide whether to laugh with me or cry.
An unfamiliar voice spoke dryly from the direction of the doorway. "I see you're feeling better, then?"
Hiding my dizziness, I turned my head towards the man I assumed was my doctor and gave him one of my charming grins. "Yeah, I guess my vacation's over though, huh?"
He laughed a little, a nice husky laugh. His tousled hair reminded me of Heero, and I frowned suddenly as a thought occured to me. I turned back to Quatre.
"Hey, Q-man, you guys aren't still getting missions, are you?" I asked in quieter tones, not wanting the doctor to hear.
He gave me a puzzled frown, and shook his head. Trying to keep the hurt out of my voice, I asked as flippantly as possible, "So, where's Heero? Mr. High-and-Mighty perfect soldier too good to visit a hurt friend?"
Quatre froze, eyes impossibly wide. "W... who?"
I scowled at him, in no mood to play games. "You know- about my size, bird-nest hair and the cheerful disposition of a pitbull? Always looks like there's a stick up his ass?"
Quatre's normally pale skin had a sickly cast to it, and I frowned, worried. "What happened to him?" I demanded. Quatre shook his head slowly, and I felt anger take hold of me. Heedless of my wounds, I lunged up and grabbed a hold of him by the collar, shaking him a little. "Tell me, dammit! Why isn't he here? He came in earlier, why won't you tell me where he is?!"
Quatre's mouth was in a flat line, and his eyes were raw. The strength my adrenaline had given me was draining like a barrel with a hole in it, and when I felt hands gently tug at my shoulders it was enough to make me collapse back to the thin white mattress. My head hit the pillows too hard, and the world was sparkling like a stained glass window, my skull and hand throbbing a disorienting tempo. I glanced at my hand; the once pristine bandages were soaked crimson.
"Oh, Duo..." I head Quatre sobbing, but his voice was fading like a dream. Suddenly, Wufei's harsh tones dropped into my mind like boulders, dragging me into the darkness.
"Heero's dead, Maxwell. He committed suicide last week."
~*~
To be continued ^_^;;; Please review!
Author: The shinigumi
Note: No, my grammar isn't this terrible- Duo is switching to third person in his mind every so often as an unconscious way to distance himself from pain and avoid the painful truth. O.o Just read it, and it should make sense!
Disclaimers: I don't own GW (just in case anyone was wondering), death fic, angst, umm... generally not nice, have a good, healthy, morbid sense of humor. Some yaoi hints, but it's in the past- for a rather obvious reason, if you read the fic ^_^; Note: This is not the end!!!!! I'm working on part 2.
Oh, yeah- the year is AC 196, after the eve wars and slightly after the movie/OVA.
At the table in the kitchen, the dead boy smiled and laughed. Everyone was being desperately cheerful, so the dead felt he had to play along, though there was no real cheer left in him anymore. They were all ignoring the empty place, the space where one of their own used to sit and would never sit again- at least, not of his own accord.
In a fit of morbid humor, the dead boy contemplated what it would take to make him sit again. When they found his body, there wasn't much left of his head, so his presence might make everyone a bit uncomfortable- hard to act like you're having a good time with a corpse at the table.
This struck the dead boy as even more amusing, in an ironic way. After all, they were eating with two dead men now- one in the grave, but his memory hanging in the air... and the other sitting with them, letting them think that he was laughing with them. But let them.
They probably wouldn't understand why I was really laughing, anyway. They don't know I'm dead.
It suddenly struck me as odd for the hundredth time that they were all celebrating, and it took several seconds of pondering and sifting through my scattered mind for any real information before I found the memory I wanted.
The war, of course. It had finally ended, and now it was New Year's Eve and we were throwing a party. Relena had invited us to hers- but the others were nervous about bringing me too close to her right now, and instead had decided upon a private night in one of Quatre's mansions. I spent another moment examining myself dispassionately, wondering if I was bothered that something that should have been an important time was so hard to concentrate on. The dead boy felt numb, and a little tired- but other than that, nothing surfaced.
I was in shock, I knew, and realized that it might be good for me to see a psychiatrist. At this thought, I vaguely remembered Quatre suggesting the same thing to me less than a week ago. I had gone, and the psychiatrist had pronounced me mentally sound, and quite intelligent- take a few of these pills and get some rest, you'll be fine soon enough. Oh, and don't worry- the next time someone you love dies, hey- we always have more pills.
The dead boy smiled and threw the medication away; for the best quack money could buy, he fucking sucked at his job. But it was better this way, anyway. The dead boy figured that he would probably feel better with time- or at least feel something. After all, that was how it always worked- you love them, they die in some nasty or disfiguring way, and you move on to the next. Trade the old for the new. Pardon me, sir- this one's getting a little old. Could I have another? Excuse me, my lover blew his head off with my gun in our bedroom, I'd like a new one- without any of those pesky little suicidal tendencies this time, if you would. Such a mess to clean up after, you know- and nothing covers the smell of death.
But I wasn't paying attention. It was hard to keep track of reality when time kept sliding sideways, and his mind was playing every memory of Heero he had like a broken holo-disc. The others kept glancing at me, watching me like a live wire, ticking time bomb. Stupid phrase- time bombs didn't tick. They were silent, so quiet you never even knew there was a problem 'til BOOM! They blow up in your face.
The dead boy giggled at that thought- Heero blew his face off too. "Ka-boom!" he murmered softly, then giggled a little louder. Everyone was quiet now, watching him in frozen silence. At the expressions on their face, I grin disarmingly at them, hoping distantly that they don't think I need to see another mind-bender.
"What's wrong, guys? You're all acting awfully funny, y'know," I grinned reassuringly at the others, casually bringing one of the crystal goblets to my lips. I paused before drinking, glancing up through my bangs to see if anyone was buying it.
Quatre was watching me, his huge aqua eyes shimmering on the verge of tears. I winced at the pain in his eyes, knowing I was the cause- but I still didn't feel anything. "Aw- damn, Q, don't you ever relax? We're having a party, here- crying will just ruin everybody's mood. Don't steal Heero's job-" I went silent suddenly, and had to swallow hard around a sudden lump lodged painfully in my throat. Ignoring the pain firmly, the dead boy smiled brilliantly. "Heh, sorry. I think there's something stuck in my throat..."
Quatre bit his lip, and I knew he was going to try to touch me- without thinking, I slammed my weight back to avoid him, knocking my chair over and me with it. I probably hadn't needed to recoil quite so hard, and my last thought before my head connected with the floor was that Quatre would be pissed at me for breaking one of his expensive-looking glasses.
I woke up in fits and starts; impossible to tell between dreaming and waking sometimes, so I don't know how much of the time between was real or just the tricks of faeries. At one point, I think I remember Chang hovering over me, a worried look on his face. He could've been staring at me, or someone else- but there were tear tracks on his face, and he said he couldn't tell why he let such a weak fool be his only friend.
At another point, I saw Heero standing in the corner with a little girl and puppy, and I think I asked him how he snuck a dog into the hospital. He didn't answer, but the girl laughed, and I felt better than I had in what felt like forever.
When I finally woke for good, Quatre was dozing on a chair by the bed. The room was just like I remembered it from my waking dreams; air scented with the sting of antiseptics, and everything a sterile white.
I started to reach up my left hand, but there was an IV drip hooked up to it. Frowning at it in annoyance, I lifted my right hand instead, then blinked in surprise to find it wrapped in medical gauze. I tried to remember what had happened, but the last few weeks were a blur. Careful not to upset the bandage job, I reached up and brushed my fingers against the scratchy surface of more gauze wrapped around my head. I tried to sit up to feel the back of my skull, but the room swam and my breath rushed out in a gasp.
I was left leaning weakly against the pillows, panting slightly. I always push my body too far; baka, Heero would say, sit still.
"Duo! You're awake!" I gathered my strength and tilted my head in the Arabian boy's direction; he swayed like he was on a boat.
"Q..." I pleaded in my most pathetic tone, squinting slightly against the glare of the fresh sunlight in the room. His brows were drawn together in the serious, I-hold-myself-personally-responsible-for-the-sadness-of-everyone-in-the-universe look that I love to tease him about. "Stop moving like that, would you? I'm getting seasick..."
His eyes widened with concern. "Are you okay? The Dr. said that you... what is it?"
I was fighting to keep from laughing- he probably thought I was in pain. I motioned him forward with a wave of my bandaged hand, and he leaned closer with damp eyes always on the verge of tears.
"Your maternal instincts are showing." I managed, keeping my face straight for a handful of seconds before breaking into a fit of laughter. I winced, noticing too late that laughing was painful too.
He got an odd expression on his face, like he couldn't decide whether to laugh with me or cry.
An unfamiliar voice spoke dryly from the direction of the doorway. "I see you're feeling better, then?"
Hiding my dizziness, I turned my head towards the man I assumed was my doctor and gave him one of my charming grins. "Yeah, I guess my vacation's over though, huh?"
He laughed a little, a nice husky laugh. His tousled hair reminded me of Heero, and I frowned suddenly as a thought occured to me. I turned back to Quatre.
"Hey, Q-man, you guys aren't still getting missions, are you?" I asked in quieter tones, not wanting the doctor to hear.
He gave me a puzzled frown, and shook his head. Trying to keep the hurt out of my voice, I asked as flippantly as possible, "So, where's Heero? Mr. High-and-Mighty perfect soldier too good to visit a hurt friend?"
Quatre froze, eyes impossibly wide. "W... who?"
I scowled at him, in no mood to play games. "You know- about my size, bird-nest hair and the cheerful disposition of a pitbull? Always looks like there's a stick up his ass?"
Quatre's normally pale skin had a sickly cast to it, and I frowned, worried. "What happened to him?" I demanded. Quatre shook his head slowly, and I felt anger take hold of me. Heedless of my wounds, I lunged up and grabbed a hold of him by the collar, shaking him a little. "Tell me, dammit! Why isn't he here? He came in earlier, why won't you tell me where he is?!"
Quatre's mouth was in a flat line, and his eyes were raw. The strength my adrenaline had given me was draining like a barrel with a hole in it, and when I felt hands gently tug at my shoulders it was enough to make me collapse back to the thin white mattress. My head hit the pillows too hard, and the world was sparkling like a stained glass window, my skull and hand throbbing a disorienting tempo. I glanced at my hand; the once pristine bandages were soaked crimson.
"Oh, Duo..." I head Quatre sobbing, but his voice was fading like a dream. Suddenly, Wufei's harsh tones dropped into my mind like boulders, dragging me into the darkness.
"Heero's dead, Maxwell. He committed suicide last week."
~*~
To be continued ^_^;;; Please review!