I'm getting better at this, and I think this fic might actually have a happy ending (don't plan on it). Rapunzel wants me to save Quatre, but I can't because so many people want him to be saved. I just... can't. Mini-M.E. wants me to kill someone, preferably Trowa or Heero, but I can't do that either.
Wufei: Wounded Angels
By: M.E. (Magnificent Entity)
"The wound begins to close in on itself, to protect what is hurting so much. And once it is closed, you no longer see what is underneath, what started the pain."
— from The Joy Luck Club, by Amy Tan
It hurts. Oh god, Nataku, it hurts so much. This pain, this sense of loss, confusion, abandonment. I never thought that one day I would be forced to feel this again, be forced to relive the emotions that I suffered through following your death.
I never thought that I would be able to care for someone again.
I loved you, Nataku, didn't you ever know that? Justice was not the sole reason that I fought in the war. Nor was the need to live up to your dream. Most of my willingness to battle came from my love for you.
Every day of the life that I have lived in your absence I have spent regretting that I never had the courage to ever tell you how I felt about you when I had the chance. Now I regret that I have stupidly allowed myself to make the same mistake a second time.
There are days when I wonder why I allowed this to happen. There are times when I don't want to get up the morning. And all too often I wish that I could just end it all. End the monotony, the captivity, the pain.
I think Trowa tries to help, but he's not any better off, he's just as bad as me. Perhaps worse. Perhaps not. I try to help him, but the pain distracts me, and I find myself unable to concentrate.
We are slowly slipping apart, he and I. We were never meant to fit straight together, were instead meant to be bridged, to be unified indirectly. There was another puzzle piece between us before, one that held the three of us all together. Now that connecting piece is missing, causing us to be mismatched, to rub the wrong way. We try to make it work, but it is impossible, and all the trying only leads to more pain, more hardship.
If two pieces do not fit together and you try to force them, eventually one will break, if not both. He and I have been trying too hard for too long, and soon, too soon, one of us will break. It is no longer a question now, but a known and expected fact.
The only question is who will break first, and if the other will follow.
I am hoping that I will be the one who breaks, and not him. He has done nothing to deserve this pain, has not sinned as I have. He is not a demon, as I am.
Always before, I felt as if I had somehow been betrayed when you left me. Now I feel as if the tables have turned, causing me to become the betrayer and no longer the betrayed. I see now that you did not leave me because of any wish of your own. I see now that it was time for you to leave (too soon, all too soon)– even if I didn't accept it, I do see it. And I see that you wished to make amends (what had I done to curry such favor? All I have caused you is pain...), and so you sent down an angel from heaven to comfort me, to love me.
That was Quatre.
And now he is gone. Gone forever, out of my reach, out of my touch, all because of me and my idiotic pride. You gave me a second chance and I threw it away, just as I threw away my first chance, my chance with you.
Some days I wonder whether my angel was actually a punishment, not a gift as I first supposed. On those days I also wonder if I am now a devil for having shot down an angel.
And I fear that soon another angel will be added to my scorecard of losses.
If you did not send me Quatre, then surely you sent me Trowa. Poor Trowa, it took Quatre and myself so long to coax the turtle out of his shell, and were both amazed by what we found inside.
Trowa has been so quiet since we came here, since we last saw Quatre, since we last heard from our beautiful blonde. I mean, he's always quiet– Duo jokes about it sometimes, calling him "The Silent One"– but this is different. Now he never talks above a whisper, and when he does speak it is only in short, fragmented sentences. He is returning to his shell, going deeper inside than ever before. When I try to talk to him, to touch him, to comfort him, he shrinks away, as if he is afraid of me.
Whenever he looks at me, I get the strange feeling that he doesn't really see the me of now, but rather the me from six months ago, the me that betrayed him and Quatre by siding with Marimeia. Maybe all he sees is the blade of my sword at his throat; I don't know, he never talks about it.
Most of the time he just stares at the floor.
I think that that was when the relationship really started to fall apart, though Quatre's leaving didn't help any, of course. And now...
Why the hell did I pressure Trowa to add his signature to that letter? Why couldn't I just let things be, why couldn't I trust Quatre? For some insane reason I thought that I would be able to bring Quatre back through threats. I guess I never considered the possibility that he might not reply, that it might really be over. I should have never forced Trowa to go along with that harebrained idea.
It's all my fault, Nataku.
Some nights I dream that the three of us are together again, that Quatre ignored that awful, accursed letter and returned, forgiving me. I always know that these are dreams, because in reality, no one could ever forgive me for the damage I have wrecked on both my lovers' lives, not even Quatre with his sweet, almost-innocence.
All of it hurts so much, Nataku. I do not you ask for relief from the pain, I know that I have earned every moment of suffering. I only ask one thing from you, one simple thing:
Take pity on my angels, and save them from me. Save them from my destructive soul. Save Trowa from me, if it is at all possible. Take him out of my reach to someplace where I can't hurt him any more, where my disease cannot infect him. Find Quatre and save him from whatever terrible fate my pride has cursed him with.
Do not try to save me. I do not deserve the salvation that you might bless me with. I do not deserve a shred of happiness or hope, though I know that I would be happy beyond imagining if you could just repair the damage I have caused, if you could restore Trowa's hope and Quatre's happiness. I offer you thanks in advance, in case you choose to grant my request.
Never try to save me, Nataku. Always allow me to fall with my broken wings. Like Icarus, I would not heed my elder's orders, and so I must share my fate with him. [1] I am not ignorant, I know that only angels can fly, never demons nor devils. Never try to change that which is set in stone.
Never try to save that which is doomed.
Good bye, Nataku... Meiran...
Wo ai ni. [2]
[1] Icarus is from Greek mythology. Supposedly his father built wings out of wax and feathers so that they could both escape from the Labyrinth on Crete. Icarus was told by his father to not get too close to the sun, because then the wax holding the feathers together would melt, and the wings would fall apart. Being your average teenager, Icarus had to do exactly what he was told not to do, and ended up plummeting to the sea below, and, of course, dying. (Yes, 'Zel-chan, I know you and Blue Jeans already know all this...)
[2] Just in case nobody knows, "wo ai ni" is Chinese for "I love you." It is also the only Chinese that I know (may Fred bless the educational value of Fushigi Yuugi!).
Oh well, no happy ending, I guess. Wah! Poor Woofy seems to have something of a self-esteem problem. For some reason it seems like the ones who appear to be the most confident are usually the least. Darn. Rereading this, for some reason it sounds like he's about to kill himself... cool! ^.^
