"How Do I Live" by Marie Whi Mitshue
Author's Note: The song is "How Do I live" by Trisha Yearwood. I don't own either it, or any of the Gundam Wing crew, they belong to their respective owners. Let's see… pairings… 1x2, 3x4… and *again* Wufei is left out of the pairings. I think he's… MY GOD, he's not even in this story!!! (Sorry, Wu-bear. One day, I swear, I'm gonna write one for Wufei that'll knock his little ponytail off.)
Warnings: Umm, yaoi, shounen ai – whatever, if you don't like it, don't read it – angst, **VIOLENCE WARNING** (Duo-anguish *sob* my poor Duo *sniff, sniff*) This story takes place about a month or so after Heero self- detonates.
//thoughts//
*emphasis*
song lyrics
***
Duo Maxwell sat slumped in the cockpit of Deathscythe. The cockpit hatch was open; a slice of Quatre's underground hangar visible through the opening, but the front viewscreen was down, blocking it. All the cockpit viewscreens around the chestnut-braided pilot were on, replaying the images that had been recorded a few days before.
The images, the recording of the death of Heero Yuy, and the destruction of Wing Gundam, played over and over on the big screens, surrounding the American in an orgy of death and destruction… the death and destruction of the one person in the world that mattered most to Duo Maxwell.
Deathscythe's external sensors had, after the surrender of Dr. J, Heero's superior, caught the movement of Heero's cockpit hatch slowly opening. Duo had put it all on magnification, and now he watched, yet again, as the over- magnified-grainy image of his lover stepped out onto the open hatch, a self- detonation remote in his hand. He raised the small device shoulder-high, fingers steady around it, mouth moving in silent words – Deathscythe had been too far away, he had barely gotten visuals, let alone audio – but Duo was fairly certain that his Japanese lover had said "Ninmu ryuokai" : Japanese for "Mission accepted." His expression was calm, cool, impassive. There was no hint of regret, or sorrow or longing – nothing but soldierly, emotionless acceptance. Nothing to let Duo know that Heero regretted dying without saying something, anything, to him, or even that Heero cared at all that he was leaving behind a lover that his death would shatter. If fact, there was no hint that he had even thought of Duo…
How do I get through a night without you?
1 If I had to live without you
What kind of life would that be?
Duo pressed a hand to his mouth, stifling an anguished sob, as he watched, yet again, as Heero Yuy unemotionally thumbed the detonator button – and Wing was torn, by massive explosions from the inside out, into a shattered hulk. Heero was thrown through the air, to tumble like a broken doll across the ground, coming to a stop in a limp, sprawled heap. A pool of crimson was slowly spreading around Heero's head and upper body.
That's when the recording ended, the looped tape beginning again, for Deathscythe had been forced to flee with the others, leaving behind the battered and broken body of Duo Maxwell's one true love.
Duo lowered his face to his hands; chest heaving in great, shuddering sobs. For a second, as his braid slipped down over his shoulder, brushed against his nape, it felt almost like the tickle of Heero's fingertips against his skin – and a riotous spill of memories burst over him, of Heero touching him, making love with him, of just holding him, of cuddling him close, of Heero's breath brushing over his cheek, of Heero's lips molding to his…
"Heero…Heero, God, I *need* you…" Duo sobbed into his hands, "How could you leave me like this… Heero… *Heero*…"
1.1 1.2 Oh, I, I need you in my arms
Need you to hold
You're my world, my heart, my soul
An image formed in Duo's mind: Heero smiling down at him, limbs twined with his own, both pilots naked and bodies damp with sweat, desire and some softer emotion glowing in the depths of Heero's cobalt eyes – then it was superimposed with the grainy, distorted image of Heero sprawled on the ground, body broken and bleeding, beautiful face slack, those same gorgeous cobalt eyes open, dull and blank, surrounded by an ever-widening pool of blood.
"I can't… Heero…. ai shiteru, Heero…. I can't go on without you…. God it *hurts*… Heero…Heero…**HEERO!!!!!**"
1.3 If you ever leave
Baby, you would take everything
Good in my life
Suddenly, the images of Heero's death cut off, leaving blank screens all around him. Duo looked up; some part of him had been well aware of the tape playing, even as he wept.
The lights on the control panels went dead, one by one, and then the front viewscreen slid up and in. Apparently Deathscythe was tired of watching his pilot torture himself with the tape of Heero's self- detonation.
"What… put that back on!" Duo snapped flatly, dully, scrubbing at the tears on his face.
One light blinked on, then off, a glaring red light that was as clear as a shouted, angry NO!
"Sonuva –" Duo growled unemotionally at his machine partner, and punched at the controls.
The viewscreens stayed infuriatingly blank.
"Fine. Have it your way, then." Duo jumped out of the cockpit, which closed behind him, and started to stalk off. He'd cry somewhere else. His memory could now replay the images just as well as Deathscythe's screens; he'd watched it so many times.
A forced snort of air pressure from Deathscythe's head guns made him stop. He turned back to the black gundam that loomed over him. He got the impression of waiting worry.
"No, I'm not mad at you." Duo told his gundam, voice dull. He didn't think he had the capacity for deep emotion anymore. That had been blow away by the same self-detonation explosion that had blown away his heart. "It's alright, buddy."
Then he walked away, wondering how he could lie. Nothing would ever be all right again. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, sometimes he found it hard to breathe, all because of Heero's absence. He couldn't feel anything, beyond an overwhelming, dull, hollow ache beneath his breastbone that was slowly swallowing his soul. Soon, he wouldn't be able to bear it any longer, and he knew it. He couldn't bear to live in a world that Heero wasn't in. Soon, he was gonna do something that would send him to hell…
1.4 And tell me now
How do I live without you?
I want to know
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I
How do I
How do I live without you?
Heero Yuy awoke to see Trowa Barton sitting calmly in a chair near him, reading a book. The green-eyed pilot looked up and smiled, very slightly, at Heero. He put his book down and came over to the bed.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
"How… how long?" Heero gasped weakly, feeling the weakness and pain in his body that indicated slow-healing injuries, and the muzzyness in his brain that indicated strong medication. //Wait, that wasn't the question I wanted to ask! What was it? Oh…Oh! Duo! Where is Duo?// Surely the braided baka that had stolen his heart was around here somewhere. If Heero needed Duo, he'd be there, of that Heero Yuy was certain. "D…Du…" But the muzzyness and light-headedness increased, and he couldn't get the question out.
"About a month, a little longer. I grabbed you up, not sure if you were dead or alive, and we've been with my cover – a travelling circus – ever since."
"Ot..others…" Heero choked out, making himself cough a little.
"Oh, they all retreated after you self-detonated. Sandrock had to pull Deathscythe away, though. They all escaped, but I haven't been in contact with any of them. I suppose Wufei's gone off to wherever loner honor- obsessed pilots go. I think Quatre's at one of the Winner estates, and Duo…"
//Yes, Duo?! Where is he?!// Heero's mind screamed, but his drug- befuzzled state and some remnant of his Perfect Soldier control wouldn't let it escape his mouth.
"I have no idea where the self-proclaimed God of Death went. He was pretty shaken up by your self-detonation. He considers you a close friend, I guess, because all the while he was retreating, he was yelling over the com about how he was gonna get revenge for your death."
//Duo… Duo thinks I'm dead?! Oh, no…// "Duo…thinks…thinks I'm..dea…" Heero's voice was lost in a fit of coughing from his frantic efforts to get the sentence out.
Trowa steadied him, made him sip on a glass of water.
"Pretty much everyone thinks you're dead. It was on the news, how OZ defeated a gundam pilot and he self-detonated and killed himself to escape 'honorable and just punishment for his terrorist acts.'" Trowa's mouth curled in contempt at OZ's twisting of facts.
Heero fell back against the bed, spent and horrified. Duo thought he was dead. A memory crashed over him:
***Duo sat up in the bed they shared, his chestnut hair out of its customary braid and falling all over him, the pillows, the bed, and stared down at Heero's sleeping form, lit only by the bright moonlight coming in from the windows and skylight. He bit his lip and the look on his face was unusually serious.
"Nani, Duo?" Heero said without opening his eyes.
"Heero...! You're awake?" Duo said, in a flustered tone of voice.
Cobalt eyes opened and stared up at the longhaired young man above him.
"What's wrong?"
"Heero…" Duo sighed, then turned his face into Heero's touch as the Japanese pilot's hand rose to cradle his cheek. "Heero, I love you."
Heero smiled slightly up at him, cobalt eyes warm. "I know."
Duo gaped at him, open-mouthed, almost face faulting, and stammered, "Y..y..y you do?!?!"
"Yes. So what's wrong?" Heero asked tenderly.
"Heero, if you…" Duo swallowed hard, violet eyes bright with moisture. "If you die… I… I don't know what…I don't know if I could… go on…"
"Oi, tenshi," Heero stopped him. "You are strong, Duo. You'd survive." Then he smiled slowly, lovingly. "But I don't intend for you to have to find out. I'm gonna be with you a long time, Duo Maxwell." He drew him down into his embrace, but he knew how likely it was he could die in this war. Duo pressed his face to Heero's neck, and so he didn't see the pain that came to Heero's face as Duo whispered, "If you die… so will I…"***
//Oh, Duo,// Heero thought worriedly, dread curling in his stomach, //please tell me you haven't…// He couldn't even think it. If Duo had… killed himself out of grief and despair over his supposedly-dead lover, Heero knew all that was human in him, the soul that Duo Maxwell had dragged back into the light, would die, once and for all.
There'd be no sun in my sky
There'd be no love in my life
There'd be no world left for me
And I, baby I don't know what I would do
1.4.1 I'd be lost if I lost you
"We are going to head to Quatre's, if that's alright with you." Trowa spoke again, interrupting Heero's dismal and dread-filled thoughts. He looked up, aware there was a speculative glimmer in the Heavyarms pilot's visible eye. His next words told Heero what he was speculating about. "Maybe Quatre knows where Duo is."
Heero met Trowa's gaze calmly, but he knew, just *knew*, that his hope was visible on his face. "Maybe he will." He agreed quietly. He turned away from Trowa, and stared down at the thick bandages on his torso, but he wasn't really seeing them. The beautiful, heart-shaped face of the most wonderful, most *annoying* person in the universe was all he saw.
And then his worried mind changed the image of Duo's smiling face, showing him Duo sprawled across the bed they had shared. Blood glimmered redly all over him, his violet eyes were blank and inanimate, the spark of life gone, his blood-splattered braid and one hand hung off the bed. Both wrists were slashed viciously, the one hanging off the bed still dripping blood off the limply curled fingers and onto the floor. On the floor beneath his slack hand, lying in a growing pool of crimson, was a sharp, blood-smeared knife.
Heero shook his head frantically, trying to banish that horrible, heartbreaking thought, barely aware of Trowa rushing over to support him as the world spun and whirled crazily. He retched, dry heaves wracking his stomach, and knew that neither the retching nor the horrible pain in his chest was from his physical injuries. Rather, they were caused by the heartbreaking thought and mental image of Duo's suicide. //NO!// His mind raged as he heaved and gasped in Trowa's arms, //He isn't! He didn't! If Duo was dead, I would *know* it!! Duo you can't… you made me back into a real person again, not a automaton emotionlessly following orders and caring for nothing but the mission. You burst through the darkness and brought me light… Duo…DUO!!!//
If you ever leave
Baby, you would take away everything
Real in my life
And tell me now
How do I live without you?
I want to know
Quatre Raberba Winner sat at his desk and slowly sipped at a cup of Earl Grey tea. His sea-blue eyes were troubled. His thoughts were on his friend, houseguest, and fellow gundam pilot, Duo Maxwell.
//He hasn't been the same since Heero…// Quatre thought. He had pretty much decided there either had been something between Heero and Duo, or that Duo had cared for Heero, and Heero hadn't known about it.
And his Maganacs kept informing him of things Duo was doing that worried them. Like watching Heero self-detonate over and over again on his gundam's screens; like standing, unmoving, for hours on the balcony… on the wrong side of the railing; of the way his usual cheerful demeanor had swiftly vanished, leaving a quiet, solemn un-Duo-like Duo.
Quatre himself could *feel* the desperate, overwhelming sorrow and soul-deep pain and despair that was eating Duo alive, but Duo wouldn't talk, wouldn't open up, wouldn't admit to Quatre that anything was wrong.
But Quatre had seen him one day, staring at a sharp knife with a sort of crazy, desolate longing.
Quatre was afraid Duo was going to try and kill himself. And he didn't know how to stop it. He had a Maganac soldier discreetly watching the braided American at all times, but Duo was a gundam pilot. If he wanted to do it badly enough, no simple soldier, no matter how good, was going to be able to stop him.
Quatre sighed, then looked up as Rashid entered the room.
"Yes, what is it, Rashid?" He asked, with well-mannered politeness.
"Master Quatre, we've gotten a message from Trowa Barton."
Despite his worry over Duo, Quatre perked up, cheeks going pink and blue eyes shining beneath his golden bangs.
"Oh? Let me have it, please." He read it quickly, then more slowly, savoring the words that came from the boy he loved. "He's coming here. Trowa's coming here." He smiled up at Rashid, and the big man couldn't help but smile back; his young master's smile was happy and bright and totally irresistible. "I'm going to see him again."
Duo Maxwell lay on his bed in the dark. The blinds and door to the room Quatre had given him were firmly closed, the door locked. He was barefoot and bare-chested, wearing only a pair of black jogging pants. His chest heaved in ragged breaths, and tears were slipping out from in under his tightly closed eyelids.
A small, sharp knife was clasped in his right hand.
"Heero…" His voice was but a ragged, hopeless, grieving whisper.
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
He raised the knife and opened his eyes. There was a universe of pain in those tear-filled violet eyes.
There was just enough light in the room for him to see the knife. "How do I live, knowing you're dead?" He whispered to the ghost and memories of his lover. "How am I supposed to go on, knowing what we had and will never have again? How am I supposed to live without you, Heero?"
How do I
How do I
How do I live without you?
The doorknob rattled just as he placed the edge of the blade to his inner wrist. The knife was *sharp*, and that barest pressure sent a little trickle of blood sliding down his shadow-darkened skin.
Intense panic sparked through him. No one could find him until this was done!
"W..What?!" He called out, voice sharp with trepidation and fogged with tears.
"It's me, Quatre." As if that soft, gentle voice could belong to anyone else. "Can I come in?"
"N..No! I… just got out of the shower." Duo lied frantically.
"Oh. I just thought you'd like to know, Trowa's on his way here." Even through the door, Quatre's happy anticipation at seeing Trowa again was clear.
Duo grimaced – it was like a knife to his aching heart, Quatre's happiness. It just reminded him that Heero was *gone*, and that same happiness was forever denied him.
"Oh, good.." He said, aware his voice was lifeless and dull again, but unable to do anything about it. "I'll be down in a little while then."
"Oh… um, alright." Quatre's footsteps slowly moved away.
Duo felt an intense stab of jealous pain. Quatre had *his* love, although Trowa didn't know that Quatre loved him. Quatre didn't have to see *his* love only in his dreams; loving, beautiful dreams that turned into terror-filled, mind-breaking nightmares of Heero's death.
Duo roughly wiped at the tears coursing down his cheeks and threw his braid back over his shoulder. "Heero… I love you… Heero…" He sobbed, "I can't go on without you…" His violet eyes took on a determined, grief- crazed gleam, "…so I won't…"
Please tell me, baby
How do I go on?
Heero snapped awake as Trowa shut off the engine of his huge flatbed truck.
"Hn?" He grunted, trying to straighten, unable to as a wave of pain enveloped him.
"We're here." Was all that Trowa said, but Heero slanted a cobalt- eyed glance at him. Self-contained, perpetually serene Trowa sounded… almost… eager.
Light glinted off golden-blond hair as Quatre came running out of the huge mansion before them. A huge, shy smile curved his mouth. He waved frantically as he rushed up, as if they could miss him.
"Trowa, hey, Tro –" Then he stopped in mid-word and mid-step, booted feet skidding on the gravel as his eyes widened to impossible dimensions, locked right on Heero. "*H..HEERO?!?*"
Trowa slid out of his side of the immense truck and walked around to Heero's side. A slight smile curved his lips as he looked at Quatre, who shook off his shock and came over to help him with the obviously injured Heero.
"Heero… I can't believe you're alive! How?!"
Heero shifted slightly, slung between the two other pilots, his arms up around their shoulders. "Trowa picked me up from the wreck."
"Duo'll be thrilled! The way he's been acting, I was getting frightened for him." Quatre said.
Heero's head whipped around. "Where is Duo?" His voice was intense.
"Upstairs. Heero, I think he was planning on… hurting himself. But now you're here –" He was cut off by Heero's hoping gasp.
"Duo's *here?!?!*"
Quatre just nodded, stunned by the emotions in Heero's cobalt-dark eyes.
"Take me to him, now… *onegai*…" Then the rest of Quatre's speech registered: "… way he's been acting, I was getting frightened for him… Heero, I think he was planning on… hurting himself…" //Onegai, don't let me be too late!!//
If you ever leave
Baby, you would take away everything
Need you with me
Baby, don't you know that you're everything
Good in my life
Duo flicked on the lamp beside his bed. He wanted to see Heero's face one last time. He pulled out the only photo of him and Heero that existed: one of those cheap color prints that come out of mall photo booths. He had persuaded Heero to get in one with him on one of their rare days out.
Duo touched Heero's face in on the photo; the Japanese pilot was impassive-faced, as usual, but his arm was tight around Duo's waist. Duo himself was smiling, his arm slung around Heero's shoulder.
"Heero…"
And tell me now
How do I live without you?
He kissed the photo, then set the knife to his wrist… and slashed deeply. Blood spurted and gushed, pain flared, but it was insignificant next to the pain in his heart.
He switched hands, cradling the photo in his free hand… then slit that wrist as well. Blood poured out of him like a river.
"Heero… can't live without…"
He tumbled forward onto the floor, inches from the locked door, photo landing in the pool of blood near his outstretched hand.
As his vision greyed out, blurry, and his eyes began to close, he heard the murmur of Quatre's excited voice coming along the hallway. Then he heard Trowa's deeper response. Then…
He whimpered weakly. //Now I'm hallucinating Heero's voice… don't worry, my love, I'll be with you soon…// And the blackness descended on Duo Maxwell.
I want to know
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
"He was in his room." Quatre said excitedly to Heero and Trowa as the walked down the hall towards Duo's bedroom.
"He'll be happy to see Heero, I suppose." Trowa said.
"Hurry up. I can move faster." Heero said curtly. He had a horrible feeling in his gut, urging him to hurry, something was *wrong*, hurry, hurry, hurry!!
"Okay, but he'll still –" Quatre's voice broke off on a horrified gasp and all three pilots stumbled to a stop as Trowa and Heero saw what Quatre had already spotted. "Sweet Allah…"
A line of blood was oozing out from in under Duo's door, staining the hardwood floor of the hallway with iron-rich red.
"**DUO!!!!!!**" Heero cried out, and jerked from Trowa' and Quatre's support. He lurched forward and tried to get in the door, sneakered feet slipping and sliding on the growing trail of Duo's blood.
The door refused to budge.
"He…he had it locked earlier, just before you came. He said he just got out of the shower…" Quatre's horrified voice said in Heero's ear.
Blind panic and fear took over Heero Yuy. He threw his wounded body against the door, howling Duo's name.
The door splintered and broke under the frenzied assault, and burst inward.
All three pilots froze as they saw inside.
Duo lay in a pool of his own blood, inches from the now-ruined door, clad only in a pair of black pants. His braid was curled in the puddle of blood and soaked with it. His wrists were slashed open, a knife lay on the bloody floor near him, and a photo, awash with blood but still recognizable as one of Heero and Duo together, lay not an inch from one outstretched, bloodied hand. His eyes were closed, blood and tears tracked his cheeks, his skin was pale and he looked dead.
"NO!!" Heero fell to his knees beside him, uncaring of the blood that splattered up. He grabbed at his own bandages, to use them to bind up Duo's wounds. But before he had ripped them off, Trowa was there with the bedsheets.
Together the three boys bound up their friend's bleeding wrists.
Quatre sniffed back his tears; he could cry when Duo was safe.
Trowa was grim-faced.
Heero… Heero Yuy's face was like stone as they worked to save Duo's life… but tears tricked silently down his face, and his cobalt eyes were twin pools of anguish.
"Come on, we have to get him to a hospital." Quatre gasped.
//Duo, don't leave me!// Heero's mind, heart and soul screamed.
How do I
How do I
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
The doctors took Duo away. Quatre helped the nurse with the paperwork – it was all fake anyway. Heero sank down into a chair, face in his hands. "Duo…" He whispered. "I never told you… ai shiteru…"
How do I
How do I
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
Duo Maxwell awoke slowly.
//This is very strange… I shouldn't be waking at all.// He thought, confused. //Ah… Quatre and Trowa must've found me… I wanted to be with Heero… Oh, my tenshi… Heero…//
He could hear the beeping of some medical device, feel the IV needle in his arm, the oxygen feeder in his nose, the bandages around his wrists. His hair was loose, too. Someone must've undid his braid. //I must be in a hospital…// He could feel someone's presence in the room with him. //Quatre or Trowa, or both… Who cares? There's only one person I want to see and he's DEAD!//
Duo slowly opened his eyes, to tell whoever it was to leave him alone, to go away – then froze, sure he was hallucinating and losing his mind.
Heero Yuy was curled up awkwardly in a chair beside the hospital bed Duo lay in. He was sleeping restlessly, the signs of pain and anguish visible in his drawn face, in the frown between his eyes – usually when Heero slept, his face became peaceful, sweet, even – and his eyes were red- rimmed, as if he'd been crying.
//Heero Yuy doesn't cry!// Was Duo's first, confused, incredulous thought, followed immediately by, //Heero is DEAD!//
How do I
How do I
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
Tears trickled silently down Duo's cheeks as he gaped at the hallucination of Heero. His violet eyes roamed longingly over that heartbreakingly-familiar, beautifully-sculpted face, those messy, jagged dark bangs that fell over his eyes, that exquisite, firm mouth that Duo knew so well, that lean, muscular body, of which Duo knew every ravishing inch of…
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I
How do I
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
"H…Heero…" Duo whispered brokenly.
And the hallucination stirred and slowly those gorgeous cobalt eyes opened. The hallucination of Heero rose, one hand clutching at his side. Then he seemed to sense Duo's tearful gaze on him. He turned and cobalt collided with violet.
"Duo!"
Oh, God, the hallucination's voice was trembling! Duo raged at his mind for doing this to him. Heero was dead, not here, standing before him, face full of love and hope and relief.
"Oh, Duo, you're awake!"
The hallucination headed towards him hand outstretched, and Duo wanted to scramble back, for if the hallucination tried to touch him, then Duo would know that Heero wasn't really here. But Duo was frozen, hope and longing and love keeping him in place.
"Duo…"
Then Heero's hand was brushing his bangs back, warm and soft and *real*.
"H..Heero?! It's… really you!! It can't be, you're DEAD!!" Duo gasped brokenly.
Heero shook his head and sat on the edge of Duo's bed. Duo felt the mattress dip under Heero's weight. "Almost, but I'm not. I'm alive, Duo. And so are you."
"Heero!" Duo lunged forward and wrapped himself around Heero. "Heero, Heero, Heero." He sobbed as Heero's arms went tightly around him, and buried his face against his Heero's neck. He felt Heero's hands stroke over his hair and back.
"Ai shiteru, Duo." Heero whispered against Duo's hair.
"W..what did you say?" Duo lifted his head, vaguely aware of the drag of the IV line against his arm, pulled taut between him and the stand. "H..Heero?"
"I said, I love you, Duo." Heero said again, his eyes locked to Duo's.
"Heero…" Duo swallowed. "I love you so much. When I thought you were dead, I thought… I thought I would die…"
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
Heero's mouth tightened fractionally, and his eyes glanced quickly to the thick bandages around Duo's wrists. "I know. It took a lot of stitches to close those wounds. And you needed a lot of blood transfusions. You *did* almost die. But we'll talk about that later."
"I love you, Heero. I…" Duo's lower lip trembled, and Heero clasped him even closer.
"Shh, Duo. Ai shiteru, everything is all right now. I love you…"
"Hummphh…" Someone clearing their throat in the doorway made them turn.
A white-clad nurse stood in the door. "I'm glad you've cleared that up." She smiled, "But you need to rest, young man." She came in, checked his chart and said, "Those wounds need you to be strong to heal." She turned her steel-gray gaze on Heero. "And you, young man, can go home and rest –"
Heero was shaking his head. "I'm not leaving."
The nurse matched glares with Heero but, as all people do when matched against Heero Yuy, her gaze faltered and she frowned. "Fine, but don't blame me if the docs kick ya out." She left.
Heero eased Duo back down on the bed, and cradled his cheek. "You go to sleep."
Duo caught his hand and held it. "You won't… you won't leave?" Unspoken in the air hung the words: 'you won't leave me again?'
"Never again." Heero whispered in his ear. "I love you."
Duo's eyes slowly closed, but his grip on Heero's hand never eased. "Ai shiteru, Heero…"
Heero gazed down at his sleeping koi. He bent and kissed Duo's cheek, brushed a strand of hair from his face.
"How can I live without you, Duo?" He whispered. "I can't, so I won't ever try." He lay down beside Duo, cuddled him close, cheek to cheek and slowly fell asleep, content to just be near Duo, to have him alive, and to be with him. For the first time in his screwed up life, Heero Yuy felt peace.
As the Wing pilot slept, a smile curved his lips.
As the Deathscythe pilot slept, he dreamt of Heero, a wonderful, beautiful dream that, for the first time in over a month, didn't turn into a horrid nightmare.
They belonged together, two halves of the same soul, and their love would never die.
How do I
How do I
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OWARI~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So, did ya like, did ya like? Sappy ending, I know, but I had to counter the suicide scenes :0( with something less morbid. :0)
Author's Note: The song is "How Do I live" by Trisha Yearwood. I don't own either it, or any of the Gundam Wing crew, they belong to their respective owners. Let's see… pairings… 1x2, 3x4… and *again* Wufei is left out of the pairings. I think he's… MY GOD, he's not even in this story!!! (Sorry, Wu-bear. One day, I swear, I'm gonna write one for Wufei that'll knock his little ponytail off.)
Warnings: Umm, yaoi, shounen ai – whatever, if you don't like it, don't read it – angst, **VIOLENCE WARNING** (Duo-anguish *sob* my poor Duo *sniff, sniff*) This story takes place about a month or so after Heero self- detonates.
//thoughts//
*emphasis*
song lyrics
***
Duo Maxwell sat slumped in the cockpit of Deathscythe. The cockpit hatch was open; a slice of Quatre's underground hangar visible through the opening, but the front viewscreen was down, blocking it. All the cockpit viewscreens around the chestnut-braided pilot were on, replaying the images that had been recorded a few days before.
The images, the recording of the death of Heero Yuy, and the destruction of Wing Gundam, played over and over on the big screens, surrounding the American in an orgy of death and destruction… the death and destruction of the one person in the world that mattered most to Duo Maxwell.
Deathscythe's external sensors had, after the surrender of Dr. J, Heero's superior, caught the movement of Heero's cockpit hatch slowly opening. Duo had put it all on magnification, and now he watched, yet again, as the over- magnified-grainy image of his lover stepped out onto the open hatch, a self- detonation remote in his hand. He raised the small device shoulder-high, fingers steady around it, mouth moving in silent words – Deathscythe had been too far away, he had barely gotten visuals, let alone audio – but Duo was fairly certain that his Japanese lover had said "Ninmu ryuokai" : Japanese for "Mission accepted." His expression was calm, cool, impassive. There was no hint of regret, or sorrow or longing – nothing but soldierly, emotionless acceptance. Nothing to let Duo know that Heero regretted dying without saying something, anything, to him, or even that Heero cared at all that he was leaving behind a lover that his death would shatter. If fact, there was no hint that he had even thought of Duo…
How do I get through a night without you?
1 If I had to live without you
What kind of life would that be?
Duo pressed a hand to his mouth, stifling an anguished sob, as he watched, yet again, as Heero Yuy unemotionally thumbed the detonator button – and Wing was torn, by massive explosions from the inside out, into a shattered hulk. Heero was thrown through the air, to tumble like a broken doll across the ground, coming to a stop in a limp, sprawled heap. A pool of crimson was slowly spreading around Heero's head and upper body.
That's when the recording ended, the looped tape beginning again, for Deathscythe had been forced to flee with the others, leaving behind the battered and broken body of Duo Maxwell's one true love.
Duo lowered his face to his hands; chest heaving in great, shuddering sobs. For a second, as his braid slipped down over his shoulder, brushed against his nape, it felt almost like the tickle of Heero's fingertips against his skin – and a riotous spill of memories burst over him, of Heero touching him, making love with him, of just holding him, of cuddling him close, of Heero's breath brushing over his cheek, of Heero's lips molding to his…
"Heero…Heero, God, I *need* you…" Duo sobbed into his hands, "How could you leave me like this… Heero… *Heero*…"
1.1 1.2 Oh, I, I need you in my arms
Need you to hold
You're my world, my heart, my soul
An image formed in Duo's mind: Heero smiling down at him, limbs twined with his own, both pilots naked and bodies damp with sweat, desire and some softer emotion glowing in the depths of Heero's cobalt eyes – then it was superimposed with the grainy, distorted image of Heero sprawled on the ground, body broken and bleeding, beautiful face slack, those same gorgeous cobalt eyes open, dull and blank, surrounded by an ever-widening pool of blood.
"I can't… Heero…. ai shiteru, Heero…. I can't go on without you…. God it *hurts*… Heero…Heero…**HEERO!!!!!**"
1.3 If you ever leave
Baby, you would take everything
Good in my life
Suddenly, the images of Heero's death cut off, leaving blank screens all around him. Duo looked up; some part of him had been well aware of the tape playing, even as he wept.
The lights on the control panels went dead, one by one, and then the front viewscreen slid up and in. Apparently Deathscythe was tired of watching his pilot torture himself with the tape of Heero's self- detonation.
"What… put that back on!" Duo snapped flatly, dully, scrubbing at the tears on his face.
One light blinked on, then off, a glaring red light that was as clear as a shouted, angry NO!
"Sonuva –" Duo growled unemotionally at his machine partner, and punched at the controls.
The viewscreens stayed infuriatingly blank.
"Fine. Have it your way, then." Duo jumped out of the cockpit, which closed behind him, and started to stalk off. He'd cry somewhere else. His memory could now replay the images just as well as Deathscythe's screens; he'd watched it so many times.
A forced snort of air pressure from Deathscythe's head guns made him stop. He turned back to the black gundam that loomed over him. He got the impression of waiting worry.
"No, I'm not mad at you." Duo told his gundam, voice dull. He didn't think he had the capacity for deep emotion anymore. That had been blow away by the same self-detonation explosion that had blown away his heart. "It's alright, buddy."
Then he walked away, wondering how he could lie. Nothing would ever be all right again. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, sometimes he found it hard to breathe, all because of Heero's absence. He couldn't feel anything, beyond an overwhelming, dull, hollow ache beneath his breastbone that was slowly swallowing his soul. Soon, he wouldn't be able to bear it any longer, and he knew it. He couldn't bear to live in a world that Heero wasn't in. Soon, he was gonna do something that would send him to hell…
1.4 And tell me now
How do I live without you?
I want to know
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I
How do I
How do I live without you?
Heero Yuy awoke to see Trowa Barton sitting calmly in a chair near him, reading a book. The green-eyed pilot looked up and smiled, very slightly, at Heero. He put his book down and came over to the bed.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
"How… how long?" Heero gasped weakly, feeling the weakness and pain in his body that indicated slow-healing injuries, and the muzzyness in his brain that indicated strong medication. //Wait, that wasn't the question I wanted to ask! What was it? Oh…Oh! Duo! Where is Duo?// Surely the braided baka that had stolen his heart was around here somewhere. If Heero needed Duo, he'd be there, of that Heero Yuy was certain. "D…Du…" But the muzzyness and light-headedness increased, and he couldn't get the question out.
"About a month, a little longer. I grabbed you up, not sure if you were dead or alive, and we've been with my cover – a travelling circus – ever since."
"Ot..others…" Heero choked out, making himself cough a little.
"Oh, they all retreated after you self-detonated. Sandrock had to pull Deathscythe away, though. They all escaped, but I haven't been in contact with any of them. I suppose Wufei's gone off to wherever loner honor- obsessed pilots go. I think Quatre's at one of the Winner estates, and Duo…"
//Yes, Duo?! Where is he?!// Heero's mind screamed, but his drug- befuzzled state and some remnant of his Perfect Soldier control wouldn't let it escape his mouth.
"I have no idea where the self-proclaimed God of Death went. He was pretty shaken up by your self-detonation. He considers you a close friend, I guess, because all the while he was retreating, he was yelling over the com about how he was gonna get revenge for your death."
//Duo… Duo thinks I'm dead?! Oh, no…// "Duo…thinks…thinks I'm..dea…" Heero's voice was lost in a fit of coughing from his frantic efforts to get the sentence out.
Trowa steadied him, made him sip on a glass of water.
"Pretty much everyone thinks you're dead. It was on the news, how OZ defeated a gundam pilot and he self-detonated and killed himself to escape 'honorable and just punishment for his terrorist acts.'" Trowa's mouth curled in contempt at OZ's twisting of facts.
Heero fell back against the bed, spent and horrified. Duo thought he was dead. A memory crashed over him:
***Duo sat up in the bed they shared, his chestnut hair out of its customary braid and falling all over him, the pillows, the bed, and stared down at Heero's sleeping form, lit only by the bright moonlight coming in from the windows and skylight. He bit his lip and the look on his face was unusually serious.
"Nani, Duo?" Heero said without opening his eyes.
"Heero...! You're awake?" Duo said, in a flustered tone of voice.
Cobalt eyes opened and stared up at the longhaired young man above him.
"What's wrong?"
"Heero…" Duo sighed, then turned his face into Heero's touch as the Japanese pilot's hand rose to cradle his cheek. "Heero, I love you."
Heero smiled slightly up at him, cobalt eyes warm. "I know."
Duo gaped at him, open-mouthed, almost face faulting, and stammered, "Y..y..y you do?!?!"
"Yes. So what's wrong?" Heero asked tenderly.
"Heero, if you…" Duo swallowed hard, violet eyes bright with moisture. "If you die… I… I don't know what…I don't know if I could… go on…"
"Oi, tenshi," Heero stopped him. "You are strong, Duo. You'd survive." Then he smiled slowly, lovingly. "But I don't intend for you to have to find out. I'm gonna be with you a long time, Duo Maxwell." He drew him down into his embrace, but he knew how likely it was he could die in this war. Duo pressed his face to Heero's neck, and so he didn't see the pain that came to Heero's face as Duo whispered, "If you die… so will I…"***
//Oh, Duo,// Heero thought worriedly, dread curling in his stomach, //please tell me you haven't…// He couldn't even think it. If Duo had… killed himself out of grief and despair over his supposedly-dead lover, Heero knew all that was human in him, the soul that Duo Maxwell had dragged back into the light, would die, once and for all.
There'd be no sun in my sky
There'd be no love in my life
There'd be no world left for me
And I, baby I don't know what I would do
1.4.1 I'd be lost if I lost you
"We are going to head to Quatre's, if that's alright with you." Trowa spoke again, interrupting Heero's dismal and dread-filled thoughts. He looked up, aware there was a speculative glimmer in the Heavyarms pilot's visible eye. His next words told Heero what he was speculating about. "Maybe Quatre knows where Duo is."
Heero met Trowa's gaze calmly, but he knew, just *knew*, that his hope was visible on his face. "Maybe he will." He agreed quietly. He turned away from Trowa, and stared down at the thick bandages on his torso, but he wasn't really seeing them. The beautiful, heart-shaped face of the most wonderful, most *annoying* person in the universe was all he saw.
And then his worried mind changed the image of Duo's smiling face, showing him Duo sprawled across the bed they had shared. Blood glimmered redly all over him, his violet eyes were blank and inanimate, the spark of life gone, his blood-splattered braid and one hand hung off the bed. Both wrists were slashed viciously, the one hanging off the bed still dripping blood off the limply curled fingers and onto the floor. On the floor beneath his slack hand, lying in a growing pool of crimson, was a sharp, blood-smeared knife.
Heero shook his head frantically, trying to banish that horrible, heartbreaking thought, barely aware of Trowa rushing over to support him as the world spun and whirled crazily. He retched, dry heaves wracking his stomach, and knew that neither the retching nor the horrible pain in his chest was from his physical injuries. Rather, they were caused by the heartbreaking thought and mental image of Duo's suicide. //NO!// His mind raged as he heaved and gasped in Trowa's arms, //He isn't! He didn't! If Duo was dead, I would *know* it!! Duo you can't… you made me back into a real person again, not a automaton emotionlessly following orders and caring for nothing but the mission. You burst through the darkness and brought me light… Duo…DUO!!!//
If you ever leave
Baby, you would take away everything
Real in my life
And tell me now
How do I live without you?
I want to know
Quatre Raberba Winner sat at his desk and slowly sipped at a cup of Earl Grey tea. His sea-blue eyes were troubled. His thoughts were on his friend, houseguest, and fellow gundam pilot, Duo Maxwell.
//He hasn't been the same since Heero…// Quatre thought. He had pretty much decided there either had been something between Heero and Duo, or that Duo had cared for Heero, and Heero hadn't known about it.
And his Maganacs kept informing him of things Duo was doing that worried them. Like watching Heero self-detonate over and over again on his gundam's screens; like standing, unmoving, for hours on the balcony… on the wrong side of the railing; of the way his usual cheerful demeanor had swiftly vanished, leaving a quiet, solemn un-Duo-like Duo.
Quatre himself could *feel* the desperate, overwhelming sorrow and soul-deep pain and despair that was eating Duo alive, but Duo wouldn't talk, wouldn't open up, wouldn't admit to Quatre that anything was wrong.
But Quatre had seen him one day, staring at a sharp knife with a sort of crazy, desolate longing.
Quatre was afraid Duo was going to try and kill himself. And he didn't know how to stop it. He had a Maganac soldier discreetly watching the braided American at all times, but Duo was a gundam pilot. If he wanted to do it badly enough, no simple soldier, no matter how good, was going to be able to stop him.
Quatre sighed, then looked up as Rashid entered the room.
"Yes, what is it, Rashid?" He asked, with well-mannered politeness.
"Master Quatre, we've gotten a message from Trowa Barton."
Despite his worry over Duo, Quatre perked up, cheeks going pink and blue eyes shining beneath his golden bangs.
"Oh? Let me have it, please." He read it quickly, then more slowly, savoring the words that came from the boy he loved. "He's coming here. Trowa's coming here." He smiled up at Rashid, and the big man couldn't help but smile back; his young master's smile was happy and bright and totally irresistible. "I'm going to see him again."
Duo Maxwell lay on his bed in the dark. The blinds and door to the room Quatre had given him were firmly closed, the door locked. He was barefoot and bare-chested, wearing only a pair of black jogging pants. His chest heaved in ragged breaths, and tears were slipping out from in under his tightly closed eyelids.
A small, sharp knife was clasped in his right hand.
"Heero…" His voice was but a ragged, hopeless, grieving whisper.
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
He raised the knife and opened his eyes. There was a universe of pain in those tear-filled violet eyes.
There was just enough light in the room for him to see the knife. "How do I live, knowing you're dead?" He whispered to the ghost and memories of his lover. "How am I supposed to go on, knowing what we had and will never have again? How am I supposed to live without you, Heero?"
How do I
How do I
How do I live without you?
The doorknob rattled just as he placed the edge of the blade to his inner wrist. The knife was *sharp*, and that barest pressure sent a little trickle of blood sliding down his shadow-darkened skin.
Intense panic sparked through him. No one could find him until this was done!
"W..What?!" He called out, voice sharp with trepidation and fogged with tears.
"It's me, Quatre." As if that soft, gentle voice could belong to anyone else. "Can I come in?"
"N..No! I… just got out of the shower." Duo lied frantically.
"Oh. I just thought you'd like to know, Trowa's on his way here." Even through the door, Quatre's happy anticipation at seeing Trowa again was clear.
Duo grimaced – it was like a knife to his aching heart, Quatre's happiness. It just reminded him that Heero was *gone*, and that same happiness was forever denied him.
"Oh, good.." He said, aware his voice was lifeless and dull again, but unable to do anything about it. "I'll be down in a little while then."
"Oh… um, alright." Quatre's footsteps slowly moved away.
Duo felt an intense stab of jealous pain. Quatre had *his* love, although Trowa didn't know that Quatre loved him. Quatre didn't have to see *his* love only in his dreams; loving, beautiful dreams that turned into terror-filled, mind-breaking nightmares of Heero's death.
Duo roughly wiped at the tears coursing down his cheeks and threw his braid back over his shoulder. "Heero… I love you… Heero…" He sobbed, "I can't go on without you…" His violet eyes took on a determined, grief- crazed gleam, "…so I won't…"
Please tell me, baby
How do I go on?
Heero snapped awake as Trowa shut off the engine of his huge flatbed truck.
"Hn?" He grunted, trying to straighten, unable to as a wave of pain enveloped him.
"We're here." Was all that Trowa said, but Heero slanted a cobalt- eyed glance at him. Self-contained, perpetually serene Trowa sounded… almost… eager.
Light glinted off golden-blond hair as Quatre came running out of the huge mansion before them. A huge, shy smile curved his mouth. He waved frantically as he rushed up, as if they could miss him.
"Trowa, hey, Tro –" Then he stopped in mid-word and mid-step, booted feet skidding on the gravel as his eyes widened to impossible dimensions, locked right on Heero. "*H..HEERO?!?*"
Trowa slid out of his side of the immense truck and walked around to Heero's side. A slight smile curved his lips as he looked at Quatre, who shook off his shock and came over to help him with the obviously injured Heero.
"Heero… I can't believe you're alive! How?!"
Heero shifted slightly, slung between the two other pilots, his arms up around their shoulders. "Trowa picked me up from the wreck."
"Duo'll be thrilled! The way he's been acting, I was getting frightened for him." Quatre said.
Heero's head whipped around. "Where is Duo?" His voice was intense.
"Upstairs. Heero, I think he was planning on… hurting himself. But now you're here –" He was cut off by Heero's hoping gasp.
"Duo's *here?!?!*"
Quatre just nodded, stunned by the emotions in Heero's cobalt-dark eyes.
"Take me to him, now… *onegai*…" Then the rest of Quatre's speech registered: "… way he's been acting, I was getting frightened for him… Heero, I think he was planning on… hurting himself…" //Onegai, don't let me be too late!!//
If you ever leave
Baby, you would take away everything
Need you with me
Baby, don't you know that you're everything
Good in my life
Duo flicked on the lamp beside his bed. He wanted to see Heero's face one last time. He pulled out the only photo of him and Heero that existed: one of those cheap color prints that come out of mall photo booths. He had persuaded Heero to get in one with him on one of their rare days out.
Duo touched Heero's face in on the photo; the Japanese pilot was impassive-faced, as usual, but his arm was tight around Duo's waist. Duo himself was smiling, his arm slung around Heero's shoulder.
"Heero…"
And tell me now
How do I live without you?
He kissed the photo, then set the knife to his wrist… and slashed deeply. Blood spurted and gushed, pain flared, but it was insignificant next to the pain in his heart.
He switched hands, cradling the photo in his free hand… then slit that wrist as well. Blood poured out of him like a river.
"Heero… can't live without…"
He tumbled forward onto the floor, inches from the locked door, photo landing in the pool of blood near his outstretched hand.
As his vision greyed out, blurry, and his eyes began to close, he heard the murmur of Quatre's excited voice coming along the hallway. Then he heard Trowa's deeper response. Then…
He whimpered weakly. //Now I'm hallucinating Heero's voice… don't worry, my love, I'll be with you soon…// And the blackness descended on Duo Maxwell.
I want to know
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
"He was in his room." Quatre said excitedly to Heero and Trowa as the walked down the hall towards Duo's bedroom.
"He'll be happy to see Heero, I suppose." Trowa said.
"Hurry up. I can move faster." Heero said curtly. He had a horrible feeling in his gut, urging him to hurry, something was *wrong*, hurry, hurry, hurry!!
"Okay, but he'll still –" Quatre's voice broke off on a horrified gasp and all three pilots stumbled to a stop as Trowa and Heero saw what Quatre had already spotted. "Sweet Allah…"
A line of blood was oozing out from in under Duo's door, staining the hardwood floor of the hallway with iron-rich red.
"**DUO!!!!!!**" Heero cried out, and jerked from Trowa' and Quatre's support. He lurched forward and tried to get in the door, sneakered feet slipping and sliding on the growing trail of Duo's blood.
The door refused to budge.
"He…he had it locked earlier, just before you came. He said he just got out of the shower…" Quatre's horrified voice said in Heero's ear.
Blind panic and fear took over Heero Yuy. He threw his wounded body against the door, howling Duo's name.
The door splintered and broke under the frenzied assault, and burst inward.
All three pilots froze as they saw inside.
Duo lay in a pool of his own blood, inches from the now-ruined door, clad only in a pair of black pants. His braid was curled in the puddle of blood and soaked with it. His wrists were slashed open, a knife lay on the bloody floor near him, and a photo, awash with blood but still recognizable as one of Heero and Duo together, lay not an inch from one outstretched, bloodied hand. His eyes were closed, blood and tears tracked his cheeks, his skin was pale and he looked dead.
"NO!!" Heero fell to his knees beside him, uncaring of the blood that splattered up. He grabbed at his own bandages, to use them to bind up Duo's wounds. But before he had ripped them off, Trowa was there with the bedsheets.
Together the three boys bound up their friend's bleeding wrists.
Quatre sniffed back his tears; he could cry when Duo was safe.
Trowa was grim-faced.
Heero… Heero Yuy's face was like stone as they worked to save Duo's life… but tears tricked silently down his face, and his cobalt eyes were twin pools of anguish.
"Come on, we have to get him to a hospital." Quatre gasped.
//Duo, don't leave me!// Heero's mind, heart and soul screamed.
How do I
How do I
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
The doctors took Duo away. Quatre helped the nurse with the paperwork – it was all fake anyway. Heero sank down into a chair, face in his hands. "Duo…" He whispered. "I never told you… ai shiteru…"
How do I
How do I
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
Duo Maxwell awoke slowly.
//This is very strange… I shouldn't be waking at all.// He thought, confused. //Ah… Quatre and Trowa must've found me… I wanted to be with Heero… Oh, my tenshi… Heero…//
He could hear the beeping of some medical device, feel the IV needle in his arm, the oxygen feeder in his nose, the bandages around his wrists. His hair was loose, too. Someone must've undid his braid. //I must be in a hospital…// He could feel someone's presence in the room with him. //Quatre or Trowa, or both… Who cares? There's only one person I want to see and he's DEAD!//
Duo slowly opened his eyes, to tell whoever it was to leave him alone, to go away – then froze, sure he was hallucinating and losing his mind.
Heero Yuy was curled up awkwardly in a chair beside the hospital bed Duo lay in. He was sleeping restlessly, the signs of pain and anguish visible in his drawn face, in the frown between his eyes – usually when Heero slept, his face became peaceful, sweet, even – and his eyes were red- rimmed, as if he'd been crying.
//Heero Yuy doesn't cry!// Was Duo's first, confused, incredulous thought, followed immediately by, //Heero is DEAD!//
How do I
How do I
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
Tears trickled silently down Duo's cheeks as he gaped at the hallucination of Heero. His violet eyes roamed longingly over that heartbreakingly-familiar, beautifully-sculpted face, those messy, jagged dark bangs that fell over his eyes, that exquisite, firm mouth that Duo knew so well, that lean, muscular body, of which Duo knew every ravishing inch of…
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I
How do I
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
"H…Heero…" Duo whispered brokenly.
And the hallucination stirred and slowly those gorgeous cobalt eyes opened. The hallucination of Heero rose, one hand clutching at his side. Then he seemed to sense Duo's tearful gaze on him. He turned and cobalt collided with violet.
"Duo!"
Oh, God, the hallucination's voice was trembling! Duo raged at his mind for doing this to him. Heero was dead, not here, standing before him, face full of love and hope and relief.
"Oh, Duo, you're awake!"
The hallucination headed towards him hand outstretched, and Duo wanted to scramble back, for if the hallucination tried to touch him, then Duo would know that Heero wasn't really here. But Duo was frozen, hope and longing and love keeping him in place.
"Duo…"
Then Heero's hand was brushing his bangs back, warm and soft and *real*.
"H..Heero?! It's… really you!! It can't be, you're DEAD!!" Duo gasped brokenly.
Heero shook his head and sat on the edge of Duo's bed. Duo felt the mattress dip under Heero's weight. "Almost, but I'm not. I'm alive, Duo. And so are you."
"Heero!" Duo lunged forward and wrapped himself around Heero. "Heero, Heero, Heero." He sobbed as Heero's arms went tightly around him, and buried his face against his Heero's neck. He felt Heero's hands stroke over his hair and back.
"Ai shiteru, Duo." Heero whispered against Duo's hair.
"W..what did you say?" Duo lifted his head, vaguely aware of the drag of the IV line against his arm, pulled taut between him and the stand. "H..Heero?"
"I said, I love you, Duo." Heero said again, his eyes locked to Duo's.
"Heero…" Duo swallowed. "I love you so much. When I thought you were dead, I thought… I thought I would die…"
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
Heero's mouth tightened fractionally, and his eyes glanced quickly to the thick bandages around Duo's wrists. "I know. It took a lot of stitches to close those wounds. And you needed a lot of blood transfusions. You *did* almost die. But we'll talk about that later."
"I love you, Heero. I…" Duo's lower lip trembled, and Heero clasped him even closer.
"Shh, Duo. Ai shiteru, everything is all right now. I love you…"
"Hummphh…" Someone clearing their throat in the doorway made them turn.
A white-clad nurse stood in the door. "I'm glad you've cleared that up." She smiled, "But you need to rest, young man." She came in, checked his chart and said, "Those wounds need you to be strong to heal." She turned her steel-gray gaze on Heero. "And you, young man, can go home and rest –"
Heero was shaking his head. "I'm not leaving."
The nurse matched glares with Heero but, as all people do when matched against Heero Yuy, her gaze faltered and she frowned. "Fine, but don't blame me if the docs kick ya out." She left.
Heero eased Duo back down on the bed, and cradled his cheek. "You go to sleep."
Duo caught his hand and held it. "You won't… you won't leave?" Unspoken in the air hung the words: 'you won't leave me again?'
"Never again." Heero whispered in his ear. "I love you."
Duo's eyes slowly closed, but his grip on Heero's hand never eased. "Ai shiteru, Heero…"
Heero gazed down at his sleeping koi. He bent and kissed Duo's cheek, brushed a strand of hair from his face.
"How can I live without you, Duo?" He whispered. "I can't, so I won't ever try." He lay down beside Duo, cuddled him close, cheek to cheek and slowly fell asleep, content to just be near Duo, to have him alive, and to be with him. For the first time in his screwed up life, Heero Yuy felt peace.
As the Wing pilot slept, a smile curved his lips.
As the Deathscythe pilot slept, he dreamt of Heero, a wonderful, beautiful dream that, for the first time in over a month, didn't turn into a horrid nightmare.
They belonged together, two halves of the same soul, and their love would never die.
How do I
How do I
Oh, how do I live
How do I live without you?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OWARI~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So, did ya like, did ya like? Sappy ending, I know, but I had to counter the suicide scenes :0( with something less morbid. :0)