Happily Ever After and Much Longer

Hilde's POV

By Dreamweaver 2.0

Disclaimer: As much as I hate to admit it, I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the G-boys or G-girls. I'm also very broke, so don't sue me. ^_^;

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He told me he was scared. That's why he left, he was scared. He rambled on about some curse and how much he didn't want to see me hurt. That's why he packed up and left. I tried to tell him that I don't care what happens to me. I've seen enough hell in my life to know that you can always get through it. He didn't buy it though. He just gazed at me sadly and said that I didn't understand, told me that death followed him and took all of those he cared for. That he didn't want that to happen to me. Well, at least I know he cares about me. As if that's any consolation. He's gone now, and I miss him.

So it's been only, what, four hours? So? I can miss him, can't I? This isn't the first time he's pulled something like this. He's always been a spur of the moment sort of guy. He feels like he needs time alone he takes it. But this time . . . This time there's so much finality to it. He actually packed more then just his customary duffle bag. He said goodbye like he wouldn't be seeing me for a while. If what he said is any indication, he won't see me up close ever again if he can help it. I already told him the whole 'curse' thing, it doesn't matter. He didn't care when I told him though, he just said he didn't want to see me hurt.

'Doesn't want to see me hurt' my ass, I think bitterly. Doesn't he realize that I need him with me? I miss him so much I can't think about anything but the loneliness that has settled like a dead weight in the pit of my stomach. I sit here, in this cold living room of this cold apartment feeling, well, cold. He always brought so much warmth with him into our small two bedroom apartment with his ready grins and cocky attitude, his sarcastic sense of humor, his love for Twinkies, and that braid. That ridiculously long braid that he loved more then anything.

At first I had thought it was some sort of sick fetish, him having that long braid and all, but then he told me why he really keeps it. He told me about how Sister Helen braided it for him when he was still at the church. Before the war ravaged us all. When he told me that, I realized that there is so much more to him then a braid and a sense of humor. He isn't just the funny guy, he's human. He's got the same despondent emotions as the Perfect Soldier, he just hides it all the time. I feel a tear slip down my cheek and wipe it away as I think about just how tortured he really is.

He used to have nightmares. Horrible nightmares spawned by horrible memories of days so long ago and still so fresh in his mind. I remember that laying in my bed at night I could hear him tossing and turning and moaning the names of those he loved that had been killed. I had been scared half out of my mind to hear him like that. How could my best friend, with his easy grins and devil-may-care attitude be trapped in such dark dreams?

I didn't do anything because of that fear. I tried to ignore the sounds his nightmares tore from his throat. I tried to brush it off and pretend that my best friend was still the same clown as always, that there wasn't another layer to him. A layer that hid things from me. Things that tore at his soul and mind whenever he laid his head upon a pillow at night. It got harder and harder though. I would notice that he wasn't getting enough sleep, and when we were working in the scrap yard on some days, each and every little noise would make him jump.

And then one night, I'd had enough. I wanted to help him end the nightmares that tortured him so much. I knew I was risking a lot in going to him. He was never the kind of person to just bare his soul to anyone and let them burden some of the heavier stuff with him. He would rather take it all on his own and not involve other people. He thinks he's keeping them safe when he does that.

But I couldn't sleep at night when I heard him like that. Trapped in dreams so dark they wrought tormented groans from him. I ached for him and knew that as his best friend I couldn't just sit by and watch without doing something. So that night I crept into his room and gently woke him up. I'll never forget how wide his eyes were, or how dark they seemed as they filled with tears. I let him cry into my shoulder and held him long after the sobs subsided. I didn't say anything for a while, and then I told him to tell me about it. And he did.

He told me the whole sordid story of his childhood. And I wept for the child he had been. I remember that clearly, crying silent tears and mourning for him. For the innocence lost because of the war. He had seen the tears making their way down my cheeks and had wiped them away with softly calloused fingers before kissing my forehead gently and drawing me into his arms.

That night we slept together. Nothing romantic came out of it, nothing explicit occurred. But the next morning he admitted to me that a miracle had happened. He told me that he'd had those nightmares since he'd become involved in Operation Meteor. For over seven years. And that night, for the first time in all that time, he didn't have those nightmares.

I think about those nightmares and remember something. He told me that Solo and Father Maxwell and Sister Helen had been people he cared about. People that he had loved. And they'd died. I remember when I tried to get the information on Libra, how scared and upset he had been when I'd nearly died. I think of what he calls himself. The Great Destroyer. Shinigami. The God of Death.

He honestly thinks that. Thinks that he kills all of those he cares about. All those he loves. I feel a weak grin creep over my face. Stupid, loveable, idiot. Doesn't he understand that's not true? He cares for me, maybe even loves me, and I'm still alive. He cares for all of the other pilots and they're still alive. Suddenly I love him far more then I ever thought was possible.

And then I frown. Thoughts like that are forbidden between us. We agreed to that. We're best friends, we don't want to screw that up because we develop crushes on each other. But, this is different. I love him. I mean, I really love him. It's the sort of love that can make you do stupid things like jump in front of a speeding bullet or risk your life to get classified information to help out rebel mobile suit pilots or leaving the person you love because you're afraid they might die. It's the kind of love you can feel for a person for years and never even know it's there.

I sit now and stare out of the window in my bedroom, watching as rain falls making rivulets of water slide down the panes of glass. It's been six hours now and I still miss him. I lean my head back against the softness of my pillow.

I'm exhausted. Emotionally and physically. I've found out so much about myself and about him. I love him, that's what I found out. And he may love me back. But let me tell you, loving someone can be draining. I'm almost asleep when I hear a noise.

I sit up slowly, straining my ears. For a split second I think that maybe I'm just imagining things but then I hear another noise. A swell of hope rises in my chest and I get out of bed. Maybe I'm being stupid thinking that it's him. For all I know I'm walking out to face down a murderer without a weapon, and only in a small t-shirt, underwear, and socks too. But . . .

I open the door softly and make my way to where I had heard the noise. I reach the living room and stop short, my breath leaving me in a whoosh. I can only see the back of him, but that's enough. Because the sight of that chestnut braid hanging down his back feels me with so much happiness I can't even describe it.

I feel tears slip down my cheeks and make no motion to stop them. The knot in my throat moves and I can finally whisper his name.

"Duo." He turns, his violet eyes widening. I wipe my cheeks then and move a little closer to him.

"What are you doing back?" I ask softly. Somewhat nervously he grabs the end of his braid and toys with it for a second before speaking.

"Look, Hilde, when I left I realized something." The deep tenor of his voice washes over me and I find myself drowning in his eyes.

"What?" I murmur. "What did you realize?"

He steps closer to me, resting his large hands on my slender shoulders. I can feel their warmth seeping through the thin fabric of my shirt as he starts to speak again.

"Hilde, I don't want you to get hurt. Everyone I've ever cared about has gotten hurt or killed. But, God help me, I can't leave you. You mean more to me then my own life. When I left and I thought about living without you, all I saw was darkness and more nights of endless nightmares. I don't want that kind of life. A life without you."

I feel the tears start up again as I stare at him, his face set in uncharacteristically serious lines.

"What are you saying?" I breathe. He leans just a little closer to me and I can feel his breath fan my cheek every time he exhales. "I'm saying that I love you Hilde. And I don't mean platonic love. I don't mean I love you like a friend. I mean that I love you unconditionally and that some day in the future I want to marry you and have a family with you and live happily ever after with you."

I can barely believe it. Duo loves me too! Suddenly it hits me and I fling my arms around his neck and bury my head in his chest.

"I love you too." I say. "And I want to marry you and have your children and live longer then happily forever after." He holds me against him and I feel our hearts beating together. I pull back slightly and gaze up into his eyes.

"We don't have to worry about this curse either." I whisper. "We'll conquer it together, understand?"

He smiles, the grin back on his face.

"Yeah. I understand. But we'll worry about conquering it a little later. There's something more important for me to do right now."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah?" I ask.

He nods. "Yeah."

He says softly before lowering his lips to mine quickly. My eyes shoot open in shock before lowering. I allow the sensations his lips on mine evoke to swamp me. As I wrap my arms around his neck and feel his close around my back, I feel perfectly at home. I don't want this to end ever, but it does. He pulls back and kisses my nose lightly.

"I love you." He whispers.

"I love you too." I whisper back.

And as his lips close over mine again I know, in my heart, that the curse is broken and we will live happily ever after. And much longer.

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So, what did you think? Sappy, I know. It's so sweet it gave me a toothache when I wrote it ^_^; Anyway, as demanding as it sounds, don't forget to review.

Ja ne,

Dreamweaver 2.0