A brief note from the Author:

I wrote this one evening late at night when I was feeling happy/sad and in a writing mood. So I wrote a happy deathfic. Ha! An oxymoron you say? We shall see…

Also, this was written when I had an English teacher who taught how irrationality was used in writing. So, some things that happen may be totally irrational, yet are accepted without question by the characters. It's the only infusion of literary-ness in the whole piece, so bear with it. I think it works, and I hope that you agree.

One final thing – the characters may be a tad OOC. I apologize profusely if the way the characters act is totally out of reader expectations, but I have found that most times they are in fanfiction, because each author makes his or her own interpretation come to life on the page. I shall let you pass judgment.

Some OBLIGATORY WARNINGS from my muses:

Grace: Okay all you little kiddies, let me warn you, this story contains shounen-ai. That is, boy loves boy, boy kisses boy, boy does to another boy other things we can't say if we want this to stay PG. Got it? If you have a problem with this, then get out now! And please don't flame the author about it.  *glare* Don't say I didn't warn y'all now! But remember, constructive criticism and positive feedback is definitely craved for! So review, review, review!

Jen: This is sappy. Like, really sappy sweet, okay? It also might seem kinda bizarre, because hey, I don't know what's going on in his head and I live there. So like that, 'kay?

Christine Saint-Lawrence: The author does not own the characters, original story, mecha, or anything else involved with Shin Kidousenki Gundam Wing except for some manga, an artbook, and a model of Wing Zero. Though he wishes he owns…the…G-boys… *glares off-stage* WHO WROTE THIS?!

Okay! On to the fic!

One Partner in Paradise

"…We do not grieve the loss of the body…we celebrate the releasing of the spirit."

*                      *                      *

Duo sat next to Heero's bed as he had for the last forty-eight hours, absently toying at the edge of the bed-sheet. The only noises in the small room were the hum of equipment and the steady beeping of the electrocardiogram…at times, the only thing that gave Duo the slim hope his partner might yet live.

Sitting there, he gazed at Heero's face, memorizing every detail… He didn't want to forget. He didn't want to give up hope either, but they had said there was little chance… Duo sniffed and looked away. It was terminal…and Heero had been getting steadily worse, until he had finally slipped into this coma. No one thought the Japanese boy would make it. He felt a tightness in his chest and took a painful, shuddering breath before refocusing his concentration back outward, back to Heero's face.

Despite the sickly pallor, Heero still looked perfect in Duo's eyes. Brushing the thick brown bangs from his lover's face, he smiled sadly to himself. Duo ran his fingers along the hot, damp skin of Heero's cheek, praying that the other boy might come out of it.

Heero's breath fluttered, immediately focusing Duo's attention. The EKG skipped once, resumed its normal pattern, and then abruptly flatlined. Duo felt his breath catch in his throat, his eyes widening in horror. No, no, this isn't happening… The violet-eyed boy stood sharply, knocking his chair over and gripping Heero's lifeless form in a bear hug.

"No," He whispered hoarsely, "don't…"

 He looked at his love and saw, actually saw the feeble spark of life disappear from Heero's body. Deep inside him, he felt a small spark die as well. He kissed Heero's still warm lips one last time, running his fingers through that soft hair…so silken it rivaled his own, touched the eyes, the nose, the cheeks…never again…

*                      *                      *

Quatre stood outside the room in the corridor with Trowa and Wufei. Duo was in there, spending what might be his last moments with Heero. For the second time in his life, he understood why Duo questioned the existence of God. What sort of God would inflict this pain on a person? The two had admitted their feelings to each other not months ago, and now this…

At least they had been together, truly together, even if only for the briefest periods of time. Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all… He glanced at Trowa and sighed.

Suddenly, he found himself looking directly into those green eyes. He was on the ground, and Trowa was asking him if he was all right. Quatre struggled to a sitting position and was suddenly struck by an overwhelming feeling of emptiness and pain.

"He's gone," Quatre said in a slightly breathless tone.

Wufei's eyes widened. "Heero…Heero…is gone?" he asked.

Quatre nodded mutely, trying to make himself as small as possible, clutching his chest to try and ease the sensation that was killing him inside. Wufei turned resolutely and Quatre thought the Chinese boy was trying to hide tears. Quatre knew his were flowing freely down his face. Trowa just kneeled there, eyes downcast.

The loud click of the door handle turning startled the three of them. Quatre stood with some effort, leaning against the doorframe. He felt Trowa touch his arm in support.

"Duo…" he whispered.

"I'll be fine," the braided American said gruffly.

"Are you sure, Duo?" Wufei asked in an uncharacteristic act of kindness.

The boy nodded. "I'm sure. I just need…I just need some time alone."

Duo brushed past Quatre, the physical proximity killing the blond. "Duo…"

"Leave him be Quatre," Trowa said, staying him with an arm. "He's strong."

"But is he strong enough…?" Quatre asked softly.

*                      *                      *

Duo arrived at the apartment he and Heero shared…used to share…late that evening. Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it and slid into a sitting position, letting his tears flow. He had held them in since Heero had fallen ill…and now they coursed down his face in a never-ending stream. He sat there for what seemed like hours, crying until there weren't any tears left. He felt so pathetic, so impotent.

He staggered to his feet and threw his bag on the dining room table. His foot stepped toward their…his…room, and then he thought better of it. Too many reminders in there. Pulling off his jacket and tossing it aside, he collapsed on the couch. It was so quiet. It had never been this quiet when it had been the two of them.

He stood up and pulled a music disc out of the rack, not caring which one, and threw it into the disc-player. Pressing "play" he lay back down on the couch and tried to get comfortable. The player whirred and soft music wafted from the stereo speakers. Duo winced. It was one of Heero's…a classical disc. Who'd've known the brusque pilot of Zero liked classical? He debated turning it off, and just when he was about to get up to do so when a woman's exquisite voice merged into the orchestral background.

Duo was captivated. The melody was hauntingly beautiful. He reached over and fished out the case from under a pile of papers. The lyrics to the old aria were printed on the pamphlet inside, with English translations on the right. Scanning the text, he felt his breath catch in his throat for the second time that day.

Ah, return to me beautiful…

Ah, return again as you were then,

When I gave you my heart…

Ah, come back to me…

The music continued as Duo lay back on the couch, fresh tears in his eyes, feebly pulling a loose blanket over him. Letting soothing melody and painful memory wash over him like warm and cool ocean waves, he quietly cried himself to sleep.

*                      *                      *

He woke later. He wasn't sure how much later, but he still felt exhausted. It felt as though there were a draft in the room. He sat up groggily. The aria was still playing. Must've  been on repeat or something… The breeze was getting stronger. Looking tiredly around for the source of the chilling air, he noticed something in the corner of the room.

It looked like a swirl of dust motes…and for an irrational moment, in his sleepiness, Duo considered the possibility it was a small dust-devil caused by the breeze. He watched it, and it slowly became more and more dense. And then a shape was formed out of it.

Duo's mouth opened in shock, as he watched the form, now completed, blink, as though adjusting to light, and then look directly at him, a small smile forming. It was a smile so familiar to Duo, one he was proud to say was given solely to him. The figure moved toward Duo, kneeling in front of him, brushing his bangs from his face. Their gazes locked, Duo found himself looking deep into eyes he thought he'd never see again for the rest of his life.

The soft smile came a second time, and Duo felt himself swept off the couch. He instinctively wrapped his arms around his companion's neck, feeling the other's strong arms holding him securely, possessively. He felt warm lips moving against the side of his face, whispering things he couldn't hear. What was this?

Duo was laid down and he felt something being pulled over him. He was in the bedroom, covers now snugly up against his chin. The aria still wafted through the apartment, and it was still beautiful. Duo looked up questioningly at his partner, and jerked up in fear as he saw the form beginning to fade.

Fingers touched his lips, silencing him…a gentle but firm hand reached his shoulder, pressing him back down on the pillow…and sparkling eyes gazed at him warmly, seeming to say, I promise I'll be back… A feeling of reassurance washed over Duo, and he watched the figure melt away into the dim night without qualm, before falling into a deep, peaceful slumber.

*                      *                      *

Duo awoke the next morning, remembering with perfect clarity every detail of his experience the previous night. He didn't want to entertain the possibility it was real…but it had felt real. He wondered it if was a dream, or if he had simply been driven over the edge into insanity.

He had risen and eaten breakfast, cleaned house, gone to work, everything done mechanically. He didn't smile once all day. When he returned home, he found four messages on his machine, one from Hilde, one from Quatre, one from Relena, one from Wufei, and a separate one from Sally, all expressing their condolences and hoping he was doing well, and to call them if he needed to talk to someone. No one mentioned a funeral.

He deleted them all. While Duo appreciated the sentiment, he just couldn't handle being seeing anyone who had been close to him and Heero at the moment. And if he had told them about what happened the previous night… They'd probably back off smiling and call the asylums. Not that treatment hasn't improved, Duo thought, smiling wryly.

Finishing a quick dinner, Duo felt the urge to call it a night. But a sudden indecision struck him. Where should he sleep? He wasn't sure he wanted to go back into the bedroom, even after last night, and if he came back… Duo shook his head. How can I be thinking like that? It wasn't a good idea to believe in your dreams. He knew from experience that they rarely came true.

After much debating he finally decided to hell with it, and went into the bedroom. Pulling the covers over him, he closed his eyes, and blanked his mind of thought. He would get over this…he had to get over this, lest he have more hallucinations. But the room felt so empty. Like everything else…

*                      *                      *

Duo awoke again to the feeling of a light wind. He sat up, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. When he looked up again, he was greeted by the sight of the figure from the night before. The other ran over to him, wrapping Duo in a strong hug, lips pressing against his in a firm kiss. There seemed to be more urgency in his companion's movements tonight.

The enchanted boy pulled away and his lips moved, as though in speech, but nothing came out. A look of alarm crossed his features, a widening of the eyes, mouth opening slightly, the silent intake of a breath. All things Duo was familiar with.

Duo's partner dashed over to the small desk set against the wall opposite the bed. Duo watched with a feeling of broken, resigned sorrow as the definition of the figure's form began to fade rapidly. He wanted to cry out, ask him, why so soon? but couldn't. The other boy had picked up a pencil and was in the middle of scribbling something frantically when his form faded away completely.

The pencil dropped to the desk with a loud clatter.

Duo stood slowly and walked over to the desk with unsure steps. He turned on the desk lamp and picked up the scrap of paper his love had been writing on. In his neat hand, messed only by the agitated nature of his writing, was a short message, cut off at the last word.

Gomen Duo. I'll be back. Ai shi

Duo sat down hard, rereading the note over and over. It had been real, he had been here, and he was coming back again. Duo wanted to believe it and didn't want to at the same time. At last, he looked up, staring into space, as his hands tightly gripped the small scrap.

"Heero," he whispered. "Ai shiteru Heero." He looked back down at the note. "I'll be waiting…"