Wings of Love Part XI (11/?) (3x4, 4x3)

Disclaimor: Gundam Wing is not mine. Gavin and Charon are © me.

Chapter 11:

Gavin sat alone in his room, mind locked deep in thought. Curtains billowed from the open window behind him and he could feel the breeze as it played games with his wild, moonlit hair. Outside, crickets chirruped songs about Lady Night, and frogs happily chattered from the not-so-distant pond in the backyard.

Eyes open, he searched in his mind for the door to his room. Finding it locked, he breathed a sigh of relief, not wanting anyone to walk in. He was about to do something that noone in his family knew about, and he was certain that now was not a good time for them to find out about his strange and unnerving ability.

He closed his eyes and focused, though it didn't matter much whether the dilated orbs remained open or closed. In his world it was all the same, a swirling mass of spirits and darkness, webbed with colors other mortals had no clue exhisted.

With a deep breath Gavin centered himself, staring at the strange combinations of material darkness and spiritual brightness and color that was ever present in his mind. Pushing the darkness aside, he sought for the light and the strange senstions it brought. It was like trying to walk forward against a strong river current, and the strange chills and warmths threatened to carry his spirit away and off into Oblivion or some other foreign or wretched place.

He swallowed his fear and continued forward, his room far behind him. His spirit hands reached out to grab hold of the walls that were unseen around him, tendrils of thought still clasped to his body to bring it behind him. He used those invisible barriers as guides. A long time ago he had found that there was a Door in his soul that allowed him through to the forbidden Other Side. He didn't know if it was the same Door that mortals Crossed through at their Death or not. All he was certain of was that those walls lead him to it, as angels and demons whispered coaxing or fearful words to him.

The boy could never tell who the encouraging voices were. Sometimes he thought they were the demons, trying to destroy any chance of Freedom and Flight by their wiley ways, encouraging him to tamper with things not meant for mortal souls to stick their spirits into.

He hated demons.

Amethyst eyes darted through the mist, trying to ignore the voices and the beings surrounding him in this Limbo. Step, step- each step was like a loud thud. He felt like a giant, he was moving so slow. He knew he was close to the Door now, and close enough to Doom itself to fear for his existance

He always hesitated here, the un-matter swirling about him like true Chaos. He always wanted to turn back, to run away before he reached the forbidden Door, but he always went forward again, curiousity and hope biting away the thoughts that caused hesitation.

He took a tentative step forward. It was there. He knew it by heart now. Hidden by the tendrils of Chaos and Order the invisible Door was right before him, waiting for the boy to step through. His mouth twitched in a nervous manner as his body tensed, like a hapr string waiting to be plucked.

Taking his right hand off of the barrier, he reached out to find the edge of the Door through the muddled colors and lights. When his outsretched hand touched the cold flat edge of what he knew was the Door he stopped, hesitating for the thousandth time at the only Barrier left between the Earth-Plane and the Other Side.

The thing was, he didn't like the feeling of Crossing Over. The back of his mind always left him with the thought that eventually he would Cross Over and never make it back home. It was a thought that frightened him. He understood Death, but still feared the thought of leaving his own world behind so soon. What if one day he woke up and was stuck in the Underworld forever, with no wings to escape with.

He would be trapped. For eternity.

Gavin shook off his fears. He promised to go and stay with Quatre. He couldn't desert him now. There was a reason that he was always transported to the Boat now, a reason he was allowed to go on Quatre's journey across the Ocean and he had to find out what it was.

He pressed his hand into the cold surface of the Door. It bubbled, like water did when a water bug stepped onto its surface. Feeling it wobble under the pressure he pressed harder. The Door hesitated under the weight for an instant The boy choked with fear. He could still turn back if he wanted to. He could still go back to his safe room in the World of the Living. His knees buckled suddenly. He felt his whole body go limp, soul with it, as the bubbley wall gave way and his soul fell through.

Crossing through the Door was a strange sensation. His life would flash before him so suddenly and he would feel this cold-warm tingling sensation all over his body. It was like being born, or moreover, being put into a body for the first time, only instead of being pulled in, he was being sucked out. It was hard to keep hold of the body that kept him from dying when he Crossed Over. It made something like breath catch in his throat, and his whole being tremble with some foreign emotion even he didn't understand.

And then it was over.

It was like a silence had filled his soul. His mind wavered. Had he made it there safe? Was he still alive? A mild creaking sound, resounded around him as he felt the sway of the ground underneath him ... No not the ground, the deck. Seeing the gray sky above he kew he was safe, and back aboard the Boat on his journey with Quatre across the Ocean.

A gray shadow stood over his outstretched body, looking down at him with mournful, sapphire eyes. A grim look that could barely pass for a smile crossed his weather coutenance. "Nice to have you back, lad."

Gavin lay a moment in the bed of the boat, collecting himself after the Cross Over. He shook his head, relieving his soul of the chanting whispers that still seemed to fill his head. When he was free of them, he pulled his body into an upright sitting position, and looked at the dull-cloaked boatman before him, blinking his violet eys half dazed.

Charon spoke again, his calm, monotonous voice filling the silence like the creaking of the boat around him. "What took you so long?" The creaking, common voice almost sounded like a part of the dull scenery. It wasn't much of a voice, or, at least it wasn't the type anyone listened to for very long.

The boy looked down at the question, fingering the dirty heel of his boot with a dainty white hand. "I had something to do- on the weekend. I-" He paused, unsure of how to explain Mariemaia and the slumber party to a wizened old man such as Charon. He wiggled uncofortably in his jacket, starched cloth fighting not to wrinkle under the pressure of the repeated movement. He started again, his warbling young voice making a stark contrast against the flatness of the elder's: "You see, I have this friend ... and-"

"A friend? Ah, this is new, Gavin. You didn't have a friend two years ago, did you?" The voice had picked up some liveliness now, as if influenced by the white haired boy's presence.

"Uh, no ..."

"Then this is new, as you didn't have a friend when you last visited Quatre either." Charon gestured as he spoke, the young boy following his eyes to see why the soul hadn't spoken at all. The white haired boy gave a soft sigh of relief as he saw him in the far corner of the boat. He was curled up, fast asleep, his small wings twitching with happy dreams of happier times.

Gavin turned back to the boatman. "Well, you see, I had met her when I last came, but-"

"A she? Oh, well that explains it. The lad has a lass to look after." A grin broke on the stoney face, causing th boy to jump back. Charon had never smiled before. Maybe that was because Gavin had never had any good news to share. "So," continued the wrnkled man, "Is she you're girlfriend then?"

The statement had contained a hint of mockery in it and Gavin felt his face flush, cheeks turning a becoming rose. The boatman couldn't help but notice the soft blush and laughed aloud. The laugh sounded choked, as if the old man had nearly forgotten how to do it. It reminded Gavin of a rook's croak, and how they always cackled at people as they passed by. He flushed more.

"Well, its- uh, its not exactly-" he continued stuttering incoherant sentenced for about five minutes until he was again broken off by the guide.

"I was just teasing, lad. Its the first chance I've got to do it in five thousand years. Its alright. What did you do then?"

Gavin recovered himself, wiping a hand over his face to remove any sweat that may have surfaced at his former nervousness. "She invited me to sleep over. Its really strange, she invited me to a 'Sleep Over' but we didn't really get any sleep. It was my first," he stated proudly.

"What was her name, then."

"Mariemaia." He paused, a though striking him. "You know Treize from two years ago?"

The old man nodded, stroking his rough chin thoughtfully.

"Well, she's his daughter," he continued cheerfully. As an afterthough he added, "I'm her first friend too."

A soft moan sounded from the corner in which Quatre was fast asleep. Their conversation thus ended, Charon and the boy turned to see what had disturbed the youth's sleep. Gvin wathced intently as the ghost blinked his oceany eyes, still half asleep. Those orbs looked up at the sky through a curtain of thick lashes as he refocused the ever-shifting world around him. Eyes wider, the blond spotted Gavin, and his wings fluttered involuntarily in happiness.

"Morning," he said habitually, smiling warmly at the presence of his friend. "When did you get here?"

"Not long ago." The boy stepped forward to give Quatre a hand up. He still wasn't very good at keeping himself upright on a boat, but that would come with time. Gavin guessed it was his desert background that caused the spirit to be so unstable.

The spirit took the pale hand greatfully, allowing Gavin to do the concetration invloved in pulling a spirit upward without him slipping from the mortal hand. Once upright, he stumbled, recatching his footing just before the boy reached to grab him again.

"I'm okay," breathed the ghost, trying to stabilize himself against the rocking. Grasping the side rail of the Boat, he looked out across the never ending expanse of undulating blue waves. His soul breathed a sigh. He had never seen so much water, and wasn't sure whether to call it beautiful or depressing.

The youth flicked his wings as he heard Gavin step up behind him. Turning around to face him, the Lamb switched his hand position on the Boat's rail, gazing past the boy to the Ocean on the otehr side.

"Your wings are getting bigger," noted the boy, not unhappily. The wings, which were so tiny at first, were now the size of an outstretched hand-but a hundred times more capricious. Quatre didn't have any conscious control over them yet, and they pretty much flicked about with his moods and moods of their own. Gavin had never got to see them this old before. It was almost as if they were currently a separate entity from the soul.

Subconsciously, Quatre reached back to touch them, shirking back at their foreigness. He smiled apologetically. "I'm still not really used to them," he explained.

Gavin grinned. "I'm sure it takes some getting used to."

Quatre nodded, pale hair bobbing in the breeze. It was not really a breeze, but moreover a gust of air that was caused soley by the forward movement of the Boat. However, it sufficed as a breeze and so it was considered such.

"Mariemaia said 'Hi' again," the boy continued, grin fading into a faint, angelic smile.

"She did?" His whole face lit up as he replied. It were as though it never occured to Quatre that anyone but Trowa would ever have remembered him.

The boy nodded, reckless hair falling unconcernedly in his eyes. "I stayed over at her place. She stays with a woman called Lady Une. I like her. She's serious, but nice."

The statement of Lady Une went on unheard by the interested spirit. The Arab was far more interested in Gavin's find as a friend. "So what did you do?"

"Stayed up all night," stated the boy, wryly.

"Sounds like a sleep over." Quatre smiled. He himself had had very few sleepovers as a child. He remembered that he had been a bit self-absorbed. Eyes brightened more. Now tht he had begun to remember his life, memories that he though had completely faded were beginning to surface. He wonder if eventually he would even remember being born.

Gavin watched the thoughts cross over the blonde's face. "She wants to come for a visit," he interrupted.

The youth's focus turned back to the boy. "She does? Why? This is-"

"I know. She ... Doesn't seem to care. She thinks you're lonely."

Quatre looked at his feet. He /did/ miss the people he had known while he was alive. It would be nice to see Mariemaia, or anyone that was alive for that matter. However, it was highly impossible.

"She's right you know," mumbled Quatre.

"I know."

There was silence for a few heartbeats.

"I'd be lonely too."

The two looked at each other silent for a moment, as Charon piloted the Boat at its healm. With smiling eyes there was a moment of sympathy in a dread and dreary world.

Fantasy fading, Gavin turned to where the boatman stood at work, mind meditating upon the emptiness around him. "Charon?" he questioned, not wanting to interrupt some important task.

The grey man turned his head slightly, muttering a soft "hmm" under his breath.

Encouraged by not being silenced, Gavin spoke again. "Do you think that a human, I mean a living one, could ever come to this World of the Dead."

Charon shrugged, old bones cracking with the movement. "You did."

The boy bit his lip in frustration. "Other than me. I mean, I saw Death when I was born. There's something just plain /weird/ about me."

The older man knitted his brows together, thinking for a moment. Certainly there had been a time when mortals vertured into the Other Side, but then, it was during the time of gods and heroes ... So long ago, that Charon himself couldn't remember.

"I suppose that it's possible," he stated gravely. "However, there would likely be some great need for it. Mortals just don't venture into this World unless their you, in a coma, or just plain Dead."

Gavin felt bit back by those sharp words. He moved to say something, but clamped his mouth shut again, not wanting to make a scene over a trifle. He'd just tell Mariemaia it was impossible. It wasn't like she was expecting to go at any second. He'd tell her that he was just unusual and that it was some foreign power invested in him that allowed him to Cross Over without dying.

But he couldn't get over the feeling that the thought wasn't quite correct. She had almost been killed before, and there was something in that ... He shook it off as blind hope. All he wanted was another freak like himself, and that was quite selfish. He wasn't going to drag a perfectly nice person into a world of Dread and Emptiness.

The boy felt a hand go just through his shoulder and he looked around. Quatre was staring back at him, a little mournfully, but understanding the moral dilemmas that the nine year old was forced to put himself through.

"Don't worry about it, Gavin. If she wants to come that bad, she'll try to find her own way in." He smiled, remembering other experiences with the stubborn red-head. The memories now had such a defined clearness. It were as though now that he was free of the grip of the Land of the Dead, a fog had been lifted from his eyes that covered the depthes of his mind even in his life. Maybe his subconscious was now conscious. There were so many strange things that he could do now.

"Gav?"

"Huh?"

Quatre giggled. The silliest question of all time had popped into his mind. "Do you think I could stick my hand through my head." He pictured it and began laughing out loud. Gavin, upon hearing the question did the same.

"I don't know if you'd like the feeling!" he exclaimed between giggles.

"I could pick my own brain!"

Charon looked back, bemused but contented. Souls in the midst of this journey were often more lonely than cheerful, and bland as he was, the boatman could seldom offer solace. It was a gentling experience to see two people so happy amidst the bleakness of the Underworld. It was a contradiction to the very substances that held the world in place.

Sapphire eyes turned back to examined the horizon. His sparse eyebrows quirked together as he scanned the distant skyline. There was a darkness there. He couldn't quit see it but it was there, emanating from the line of sea and sky like the feeling of Doom. There was something wrong where they were going.

He put a bony hand to his head, trying to discern waht exactly was going on. Grizzled gray hair shadowed his face and his pushed it away with the flick of his ancient wrist. Focus ... Focus ... He let his mind loose. Something was definitely out there. It was like a storm, darkening the horizon in a still unseen manner. He felt the waves drop off and the rocking cease. This wasn't normal. In all of his years, the waves had only dropped off like this on two other occasions. A breath caught in his throat. This was very bad.

The boy stepped up behind him, violet eyes wide with concern. He felt it too, and wanted to know exactly what was going on. "What's wrong, Charon," he quavered.

The old man looked back at Quatre, blue eyes filling with compassionate concern. "I'm not sure, but its not good. Not good at all."

TBC.

Author's Notes:

I just wanted to say, that if you haven't noticed, Gavin brings his body to the Underworld. Its, at least as far as he (and I) knows, the only thing that lets him stay alive there. Describing that and Crossing Over was, therefore, an interesting experience. Not to say they describing normal Crossing Over would be any easier. After all, I'd have to describe the trauma that makes the memory go away.

Needless to say, on the contrary to some stuff I've grabbed off of other authors, that one was ALL me. *grins* Gosh, this fic has given me awesome fuel for writing Gavin in the future. Thanks for keeping me on it, guys!