Part Four:
They took me home, like Wufei had promised. And I kept my end of the bargain. I didn't try to kill myself. But the three of them wouldn't let me in the kitchen. Go figure. Quatre got us all enrolled in a high school, a really preppy boarding school with dorms and a mess hall. It was pretty cozy, and probably took a bundle of loot to get us in. Quatre and Trowa got roomed together, obviously, and Wufei paid the extra money for a private room. I had a joined room, but no one was actually crazy enough to want to sleep in the same room as me for more than a week, so I had the room more or less to myself.
The best part was that it was far away from Heero's grave. Not that it was really his grave, there wasn't a body or anything there. Being away from the fake grave kind of reminded me that he was out there somewhere, and that I'd be with him again someday. And though I had promised Wufei I wouldn't go on a wild goose chase, I could still think about it. If Heero didn't want to be found, I wouldn't have a chance. And it was obvious he didn't want to be caught, or else he would have tried to come back on his own, right?
Right. But there was still this lingering thought in the back of my mind. What if it wasn't that he didn't want to come home, but that he couldn't? Or that he had gone home, but we had already left for this stupid school? I couldn't help but wonder about that. I had tried to talk to Wufei about it, but he had only looked at me funny and gone back to doing his homework.
Quatre and Trowa were too involved in their increasingly obvious romance to really notice that I was still lingering on the past, so I didn't even try to bring it up with them. Besides, they still felt guilty about not telling me sooner and had a hard time meeting my eye.
My dorm room was pretty cool, for a school. It was fairly big, with two single beds, two matching dressers, a walk-in closet, and a private bathroom. The carpet was dark green, and the walls were a kind of tan color. There was a balcony, too, with kinky green lawn chairs on it. It all matched, which I wasn't too thrilled about, but it had a kind of cozy, dreamy quality that made it easy to sleep at night, with a few exceptions.
We had been at the school for about three months when I had the first nightmare.
It started out okay. It was me, in a field, scythe in hand, searching for something I had lost on the ground. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, which only made it harder. Suddenly, in that magical way dreams have of messing with your mind, I was in the graveyard, by Heero's empty grave. But in my dream, I just knew it wasn't empty anymore. I picked up a shovel, which just happened to be lying on the ground, and started to dig.
Backbreaking, hard, sweaty labor. My dream-self was hurting, I could feel that, and the partially healed twin scars on my wrists had opened up, and were bleeding again. But I still kept digging, until I hit something hard. The coffin. I had to pry open the lid with my fingers, and they started to bleed before I was even half of the way through. And I still kept going.
When the lid was finally off, I stuck a bleeding finger into my mouth, and peered into the casket. There was a body in there, flesh still sticking to the bones, features barely visible. Heero's body. But there was something different. My cross, the silver one I wore as a good-luck charm, was hanging around his neck. I touched the cross with trembling fingers, feeling the cool smoothness of the metal and the dirt that had worked its way into the grooves of the cross.
Then the corpse moved, like it was sighing in its sleep. I recoiled, pulling my hand away, but Heero grabbed it, holding it in his death grip, which held me still, frozen to the spot. The eyes opened, and they were Heero's eyes, the deep pools of Prussian blue that were just as cold as they were in life. But the corpse looked at me, and at my captive wrist, and began to cry.
"Even in life I am dead," he rasped between sobs, "and in death I live." He continued crying, wet tears falling down his decaying cheeks. The blood from my arms and from my fingers fell onto his body, and he stared at the little puddles of human juice. "Even in death I live," he said again, softer this time, and without the tears. Heero sat up, still holding my wrist tightly, and then he screamed.
I woke up with a gasp, his scream echoing in my ears. I shut my eyes and breathed deeply. I was back in my dorm, it had only been a dream. But then I made the mistake of looking down at my arms. They were bleeding, and so were my fingers. I cursed and ran into the bathroom, washing the blood away and trying to bandage them by myself. That dream was still vivid in my mind, and I couldn't help but think that there was a message I was supposed to get from it. Needless to say, I didn't get much more sleep that night.
School the next day went by slower than usual. It was the same old stuff as always. Boring teachers, even more boring lectures, and yet another lab in science where the teacher wouldn't let me have a Bunsen burner. Chemistry is only interesting when it's hands on. When you have to sit back and watch everyone else playing with potentially lethal substances, it just sucks. You'd think that after a month or two they'd start to let me participate again, but no, the teacher was being a jerk. I mean, jeez, his eyebrows had grown back okay.
Chem was my last class of the day, but probably the worst. I think I had gotten one passing grade in that class, a C, and that had only been because I remembered to put my name on the test paper. They give you points for the stupidest stuff sometimes! Anyway, while I was watching my classmates (the guys all happened to be in my chemistry class, no such luck for math or history, other classes I wasn't doing so well in) play with fire and acids that could burn your hand off with one wrong move, I started thinking about the dream. I tend to tilt my chair back on two legs when I think, which really used to annoy Heero, so none of the guys were surprised when they heard my chair fall to the ground and my angry shout. It was the rest of the class that turned to stare at me.
I ignored them, and went back to thinking. What was the dream telling me? Even in life I am dead, and in death I live? What did that mean? I started to wonder if it was a message from beyond the grave. No, that was stupid. It had to be something else. I stared around the room, at all the people who had turned back to the little blue flames and beakers of sulfuric acid. I tried to clear my mind and think of the other possibilities, but the thought just kept nagging at the back of my mind. I couldn't think of any other solutions.
The bell rang, and students dumped their foaming and hazardous equipment into the sink. All but Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei, who always worked slowly and felt the need to finish what they started. Wufei was working alone, the solitary dragon. I used to be his lab partner, but when I attempted to dye his little ponytail blue with the copper nitrate, he had decided it was time to discuss a few things with the teacher. I had the feeling Wufei was also influencing the teacher's anti-Duo policy, but I wasn't about to accuse him of it. I wasn't supposed to be suicidal anymore, after all, and I didn't have a death wish at the moment.
But I hung around after chemistry just to wait for them to finish up. I wanted to talk to Wufei for a second, and there was an hour of free time before dinner. I had plenty of time, as long as I didn't feel like doing homework. Not that I ever turned in my homework anyway. I did do it, on occasion, usually those few times I managed to steal Quatre's notebook, but I couldn't ruin my perfect record by turning in an assignment! School was only supposed to make us work doing school hours, not after class, and definitely not during my favorite TV shows.
It bothered me a little, that the teachers had stopped caring about my work. But that was just another thing people got used to, I guess. Like I had started getting used to the way people look really scared whenever they first found out we were Gundam pilots, or the way we were avoided by the most of the other students. We had our own little group, and we stayed in it.
When Wufei had finally finished boiling zinc with sulfuric acid to produce copper, Quatre and Trowa had already left for their dorm, probably to do both tonight and tomorrows homework. Wufei came up to me, glaring. He had spilled some of the zinc solution on his hand, and it had turned an interesting shade of pink. Needless to say, he wasn't thrilled.
"What is it with this class and copper? Every experiment we do involves copper," Wufei grumbled. I got the feeling that it was the copper in the zinc solution that was making his skin react like that.
"It's because copper is a highly reactive metal, and it isn't all that dangerous. And because it has a high conductivity level, so that you don't have to spend so long heating it under a Bunsen burner," I told him, standing up and shoving all my stuff into his bag. I wasn't about to waste energy carrying them myself, and Wufei was too preoccupied with his pink hand to notice. Sometimes a zinc-copper solution comes in handy, though it probably burns like Hell.
"So you do actually learn something in this class. Congratulations, Duo," Wufei said, giving me the closest thing he ever does to a smile. It was kind of a hybrid of a smirk and a scowl. I gave him my best death glare, and he laughed.
"I already knew that, thanks to Deathscythe's numerous mechanic problems." The twisted smile again. "Hey, Wu-man, do you believe in ghosts?"
Wufei stopped and stared at me. "Have you been drinking again?"
"There's nothing here to drink! Except for that crappy wine the cook has in the bottom cabinet of the pantry," I told him thoughtfully. "So no. I'm serious."
"What do you mean by ghosts? Memories of those who have left us, or actual specters?"
"I'm talking more about ghosts sending us messages through our dreams."
"No." Wufei shook his head. "I don't believe in ghosts." I nodded at him.
"Oh" I was a bit disappointed about that answer. "Does this school have a library?"
"Of course. Didn't you know that?"
"No. I didn't think I'd need to use it." I told him with a grin. The memory of Heero's scream came back to me, and I shivered. Wufei gave me a funny look.
"I'll show you. This way." Wufei started heading back in the direction we had just came from. He looked back at me. "Where are your books?" I didn't bother answering that, just grinned and walked faster. He shook his head. "And what happened to your arms?"
I pretended not to hear. "So, where is this library you were talking about?"
"By the music room. Why do you need to know where it is? Do you have a project you actually intend on turning in?"
"No, just doing some background research on something," I told him truthfully. I actually intended to find out everything I could about ghosts and interpreting dreams. Wufei might not believe in ghosts, but I need proof before I do or don't believe in anything.
~tbc