Full of Grace
By Ashura no Miko
Full of Grace by Sarah McLachlan
___________________________

[The winter here's cold, and bitter.
It's chilled us to the bone.]

The child's breathing was quiet and soft, wafting out of his mouth in to the cool air of the cargo hold he was tucked away in. Around his chin curled unwashed locks of chestnut hair, and long, uncut bangs shadowed his eyes. The shadows that stretched across the darkened hold covered his body like a cold blanket, and the deep vibrations of the nearby engines became a constant thrum, like a mechanical lullaby. Outside, the huge space ship prepared to dock with the small, distant colony, known only as "Colony V08744", on the outer edge of the L - 2 cluster.

Eight years later, the same child, now grown, sat within the cockpit of a metal giant. Just as before, it's engines hummed to him, only now he was safely seated within a harness, rather than stowing away in the cargo hold. But this ship had no hold. It was a weapon of war. The hair had grown, down to his thighs now, clean and brushed. His breath was quiet in the cockpit, as Deathscythe Hell was outside, not a sound was heard in the vast universe surrounding them, closing in on them from all side. Silent and alone, Death continued to drift.

[We haven't seen the sun for weeks;
too long too far from home.]

The boy remembered the sun. He had seen it once, a long time ago. He remembered just how warm the light looked. Through the thick panes of glass that protected the observatory from the cold vacuum of space feeling the sun's rays was impossible, but he could see it's warmth. The bright yellow circle, rimmed with spots of orange, it glowed with warm colors. Yes, he had seen the sun before. But as the colony dimmed it's lights for night, he doubted he'd ever see it again.

Colony V08744 was tiny in comparison to even the small colonies. Yet, despite this, it held almost 3 million residents, including the Federation soldiers and workers that were stationed there. Almost all the houses were given out to those who worked for the Federation, and the other's were owned by the 6% of the population that were rich enough to afford the housing. The shacks built by the residents themselves lined the streets. Rickety fiberglass structures, built from the garbage heaps. Most of them were stores of some kind, and a few held families. The streets around them were littered with people. The alley ways were filled with bodies clothed in rags, some spilling out onto the sidewalk. Almost living one on top of the other, the streets smelled of stale colony air, thick with the stench of urine and defecation, and the sickness of the dead and dying. For fear of disease, circles of about 5 feet were left around the dead bodies before they were taken away, sometimes taking days, or even weeks before the body was picked up and disposed of. By then, any disease they might have had was past on to the next person.
In the back of the smaller sets of alleys, within the heart of Federation territory, a small body leaned up against a grime smeared wall. He was still, gazing out at the street. He quirked his head slightly, the image of the naked woman was reflected in his amaryllis eyes, her cries for help, for death, almost quiet now. The men raping her hadn't listened for almost an hour now. The boy doubted they would at all. Her blood ran down her legs, her voice raw and weak from screaming, she barely had the strength to stand at all. The boy stood unmoving in his spot, blinking a few times; no one had noticed him yet.
Perhaps he felt bad for the woman, but it was doubtful. He had certainly never met her before, as his gaze reflected no recognition. He was silent, though he wasn't mute. Having grown up amongst many different peoples, he knew bits and pieces of many languages, but none in entirety. Still, if he had truly wanted to, he could have called out in wordless defiance, trying to save the woman from the hideous violation he was witnessing. But he didn't care. His eyes were flat and dispassionate, as though he were staring at something inane and meaningless, rather than the bloody display of power and sex. He took no notice of her screams, not the powerful, shrieking one's an hour ago, nor the weak whimpers of calls that she released now. The laughter of her violators meant nothing but the truth to him. That was power. He knew even if he called out it would do nothing to help her, only harm him. He saw no reason to sacrifice himself for some faceless whore. He smiled a little as he watched, knowing that perhaps one day he'd be in her position, and thus, he never blinked or looked away from the violence.
He only turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at Solo's eyes. The older boy shook his head, and said something to the child, but the child couldn't understand the language. He turned and followed Solo away, the taller boy carefully herding the proverbial lost sheep back to the herd.
Almost two years later, plague hit the colony, claiming thousands of lives. Even the street kids couldn't escape it.
[I feel just like I'm sinking,
and I claw for solid ground.]

The boy had stolen a scented candle from the store where the old wise woman lived. It was long and thin, and badly made, merely wax mixed with lavender oil, but the crone probably couldn't afford any better. He gripped it tightly in both hands, having to remove each palm occasionally as the cheap wax was beginning to soften from his sweaty fingers. He wiped his hands on his thighs to rid them of the nasty feel of the wax, and held the candle close to his nose, breathing in its simple scent, blocking out the smell of rotting pus from the burst boils on the skin of the diseased. The normally pleasant fragrance became sickening, as it didn't get rid of the horrid smell, but merely covered it up, blending in with it slowly in the thick air.
The boy curled up against the alley wall, his head bowed against his propped up knees. He sighed softly, listening to the passage of people outside the alley, along the sidewalks and streets. Beyond that came the raucous cries of the soldiers on their night off, the bars crowded to their limits. And none of them knew. For all their noise, and passing, not one of them knew that Solo was dead.
The boy felt a flare of anger. He pushed down the urge to run out of the alley and scream at them all. Tell them that someone had died that night, and none of them knew. And none of them would care. If it weren't for the damp feeling in the center of his chest, the boy wouldn't care either. The numbness of shock and bodily deprivation had set in, and even though he knew he should be upset, he wasn't. He crinkled up his face and tried stifled a fake sob, hoping the sensation would shake loose the tears the rational part of his brain told him he should be crying, but his eyes remained dry. So he just sat there and did nothing at all.
He had given the extra vaccine he had stolen to the other children, so they would be fine, they'd survive, just like Solo had wanted. Had. The boy shook his head vehemently, hating to use the past tense with Solo's name. And after all that, it didn't bother him that there hadn't been enough of the vaccine left for him. That was what he wanted though. He'd just sit here, and wait for the disease to take him. The other children kept bringing him food everyday, and he'd eat it for their sake. He didn't know why they thought of him as the new leader. He couldn't lead them. He couldn't do anything for them now. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't save Solo, and now no one could save him. He wouldn't let them.
In the streets, the plague rolled like a wave. People moaned and lived without moving, too tired and sick to make the effort. One by one they dropped away, adding to the piles mounting in the streets and alleys. One day, the boy finally woke up. When he did, he found the plague had passed him over, that it had finally left. He found his gang small and depleted, their food supplies almost none existent, and for the first time in weeks, something other than numbness stirred in his gut.
'It must have been Solo's soul watching over me.'
A few days later, the gang showed up on the doorstep of the Maxwell Church Orphanage.
[I'm pulled down by the undertow.
I never thought I could feel so low.]

The last few flames of the dying fire were reflected in the boy's eyes as he watched the remains of the small church burn. He stood there, rooted to the spot, unable, or maybe unwilling to tear his eyes away from the almost hypnotic sight. He slowly abandoned the Mobile Suit he had stolen, and began to wander among the ruins. He glanced absently at the bodies. The Federation had had gotten the rebels they had been searching for, and had killed 245 innocents in the process. The ground was littered with the bodies of children. It was over.
The boy hung his head. His life here was over. He had known it couldn't last forever. The bloody, burned ground passed under his feet, scarred with the deep scrapes from where shrapnel and large rocks had hit it. He remembered how polished they had looked, barely an hour ago. It hadn't taken them long to decimate the area, but then again, it had been a church - it wasn't as if there had been anyone to fight back. He chuckled. Only cowards struck out at those who couldn't fight back. Still, in war, it was the cowards who survived. They were the smart ones. Not stupid like Father Maxwell. Not stupid and noble. Noble and loving.
He found the Father in a heap of bodies. He had been trying to protect them to the very last, probably. He had been dead for over an hour when the boy found him.
The tiny Angel of Death passed by him, his muscles tense, leaving the heap of bodies behind him. There was nothing to be done there. A dead body, no matter who it was or what it was when it was living, was no more than dead meat, and the boy knew seeking warmth from it was a hopeless endeavour. Despite the silence, he wondered if there were any living bodies. If nothing else, he knew the Father would rather he look for them than concern himself over the priest's lifeless corpse. The Father would want him to find Sister Helen. He had to find the Sister, just to be sure. Just to be sure. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling welling in his throat.
He found her with the other nuns, and even some of the female children. Their bodies lay naked on the ground. The boy felt his stomach turn over, a burning sensation starting in his chest as the acidic bile rose up in sickness, remembering the woman he had never helped. Sister Helen had pulled the burnt and torn remains of her habit over her bare body. He approached her slowly, his foot hitting a rock and sending it skidding across the ground. Her eyes opened slowly at the sound, clutching the now black rag to her chest. He flinched at the wounded look in her eyes. She had always been a bold and stern woman, never showing any weakness to anyone; it was how strong her faith was. The thought that some young, fool soldier had dared to do something like this to her...the boy's hand clenched into a tight fist as he knelt by her.
She watched him with fondly familiar eyes. Even through her abuse, the same fire burned in her eyes. The boy knew she had fought until the end. Somewhere in her, she found the strength to place a hand on the boy's shoulder. He didn't move, he didn't say a word. He had seen too many dead bodies to try and beg her to stay, or tell her that she was going to be okay and try to rush her to the Federation hospital. She was going to die, he knew that, and say no point in denying it.
She smiled bleakly, blood leaking from her lips as she spoke her last words.
"...may God bless you...and keep you..."
The boy screamed.

When man left the Garden of Eden, he was given a name, and was named Adam. He who had disobeyed God. Before his loss of innocence, he had simply been known as man. Man, who had no knowledge of good or evil. And as the boy left the Garden, he realized he was no longer the boy. He knew his name now. Duo Maxwell didn't look back at the rubble of the church as he left, his cobalt eyes cold with hatred.
[Oh darkness I feel like letting go.]

He had let go of himself. He would be ashamed if Sister Helen saw him now. He clutched at the crucifix that he had stolen from her dead body. If Father Maxwell saw him now...Duo clutched even tighter at the cross, until the edges dug into his skin. He could just see the horror in the kind man's eyes. Duo released the cross to tug self consciously at the short leather skirt. He hadn't been conscious of himself all evening, but somehow the thought of the people he had known made him squirm. He had no choice though, he had been forced to let go of the morals they had taught him.
He could not allow the Federation officers who had ordered that attack on the church to live. He had easily killed off the soldiers, but the higher officers were harder to get to. So he just did a little homework. This particular commander had been charged with sexually molesting a young boy a few years ago. Duo was only twelve. And he was small and thin enough to pass for younger. And despite the skirt, his tight crop top clearly displayed that he was male. Duo watched as the officer's car rounded a corner, and began traveling down the street he was on. The high heels of his boots clicked on the pavement as he walked through the other prostitutes, all female, to where the car had stopped - in front of him.

The gun was fully equipped with a silencer, so no one in the ratty hotel heard the shot. The heavy, sweat covered body fell on top of Duo, and the small child pushed it away with a grunt. The blood slowly began to soak the sheets. It had been the perfect plan. The officer had never expected the boy he was fucking to suddenly draw a gun on him. Not only that, but he had been kind enough to pay Duo in advance. Duo grinned as he began to rebraid his hair. So he had even gotten away with some money then. He glanced at himself in the mirror as he walked out of the room, leaving the body there. He had let go.
[If all of the strength,
and all of the courage,
come and lift me from this place,]

Duo didn't make a sound as his head was jerked back by his hair roughly. His hands were tied tightly behind his back and he had been forced to his knees, a man standing behind him forcing him to be still. In front of him, an old man with an odd scar on his cheek approached.
"You say he took down six of your men?" the old man asked.
"Aa!" The man behind Duo growled in reply, tightening his hold on Duo's hair. "He killed two and wounded four before we could subdue him."
"Mmm..." the old man nodded slowly, considering the boy in front of him. "Very interesting boy, how old are you?"
"...fourteen." Duo shrugged slightly. He didn't lie, but he could have just kept quiet. He liked to brag though, and he saw no point in keeping silent about his age.
"Well then..." the old man laughed. "A fourteen year old boy bested your men, eh, Nielson? Well..." He turned his gaze back to Duo as the man behind the boy fumed silently, his hands shaking with fury as them clamped down on Duo's head. The old man continued on, as though oblivious, or simply ignoring Nielson. "My name is Professor G."
"Aa, why should it make any difference to me?" Duo shrugged then gritted his teeth as Nielson pushed him down harder.
"It should make a lot of difference considering that you were stowed away in my ship. What is you name, boy?"
"...Duo. Duo Maxwell. He runs, and he hides...he'll do anything...but he never lies. Duo...Maxwell." He grinned brashly. Professor G laughed.
"Well then, Duo Maxwell, how would you like to become a pilot?" The Professor grinned darkly.
"Sir!" Nielson exclaimed. Professor G ignored him and continued speaking.
"I have a job open at the moment...I need a young and able body. Someone who's strong and quick enough to pilot the best Mobile Suit ever made."
"Hn...what do I get out of it?" Duo grinned, watching the Professor carefully.
"You can become what you want to be. I can see how much you hate this war - these people that grew up in peace then have the audacity to try and lead an army. You described yourself as someone who runs and hides but never lies. It reminds me of someone else...the Shinigami."
"Shinigami...?" Duo blinked.
"Aa, he who take the life from others. The ultimate truth, eh? But he can still run away."
"Hmm...it's an awfully melodramatic name. Don't you think I'd sound silly running around calling myself that?" Duo shut his eyes proudly, snorting audibly.
"...well, think about it. You have time. Plenty of time." Professor G stood, turning to walk back to the main control panel at his slow and meandering pace.
"Hey!" Duo tried to keep his eyes on the Professor's back, looking up suddenly to do so, only to have Nielson shove his head down. Duo growled softly, flicking his wrists to dislocate them, pulling them out of the shocked Nielson's grasp. The man barely had time to gasp as Duo twisted around and his foot went crashing into Nielson's face, the man's head being twisted violently to the side, making an audible snap. Duo snapped his wrist back into place as the body hit the ground, then turned to face the old man. Professor G stood there, having watched it all, then moved his eyes to look at Duo calmly. The anger in Duo's face melted into his normal, brash grin.
"Yo'! You know, I don't wanna be a hero - but I refuse to be a mass murderer either. So...I guess I'll be this Shinigami of yours. So that it can be enough that I fight. It has to be enough that I fight."
Professor G smirked slowly.
[I know I can love you much better than this.]

Duo lifted the glass of water to his lips, drinking it down in a few gulps. He sighed silently and lowered the glass to the counter top, looking out the window at the rows upon rows of identical colony work houses. He felt a brief pang. A pang for the Earth - the home that he hated. Earth symbolized all the control and hatred he had watched since childhood, yet it was the most beautiful place he had ever been. It was truly mankind's home, their origin. But it wasn't that that he missed. He had never really had a home to miss in the first place. But he did miss the sky. The sun shining brilliantly during the day and the moon a dim reminder of the sun at night. So real. He stared up at the metal ceiling over them all. It was no substitute for the sky.
Duo sighed and turned from the counter with a rueful smile, walking out of the darkened kitchen. It wasn't a long walk to the bedroom, seeing how small the house was, but it seemed longer when you were trying to be quiet. He entered the room silently, as to not wake the sleeping boy within, moving across the floor with all the soundless grace of a cat.
Duo sat down on the edge of their bed, lifting a hand to lightly ruffle the surprisingly soft brown hair. Heero stirred slightly at the touch, before opening bright, prussian blue eyes. Duo smiled softly and let himself sink down on to the bed, the still drowsy Japanese pilot loosely draping his arms around the braided boy's waist. He held Heero gently, watching as the Japanese boy drifted back to sleep.
Duo hadn't been sure what to do when Heero had showed up on his doorstep a few days ago. He did, however, have the sense to send Hilde away to stay with one of the girls she worked with. Despite what some of the people in their neighborhood thought, he felt much like a brother to Hilde, and if Heero was going to do what Duo thought Heero was going to do, he didn't want the girl he thought of as his sister to be around. Hilde wouldn't be able to understand something like this. She'd try to protect him.
Duo wrapped his arms and legs protectively around Heero, cocooning him in his embrace. He didn't understand why Heero followed him around like this...was it just for the sex? Couldn't get that from just any whore? Duo shook his head slightly.
'If you wanted it Heero...'He sighed. 'No...It doesn't matter. No matter how many times you come, I always allow you to come in. Have you noticed that? Haven't you ever wondered why, Heero? I have.'

[Full of grace.]

The night passed over and Heero woke up. His mouth moved to cover Duo's as the dim light of the artificial dawn leaked through the window, illuminating Duo's silhouette as his body arched over Heero's. Duo's hand searched the sheet's next to their entwined bodies, searching for Heero's warm palm. Finally finding the other boy's hand, he laced their fingers together. The Japanese pilot broke the kiss to stare at Duo in curiously. Duo grinned and lifted his free hand to release his braid from it's tie, and Heero's calculating eyes softened slowly, staring confusedly up at his lover. He raised his head to seek Duo's lips again, the American leaning down to meet him half way.

[Full of grace.]

Duo pressed his forehead to Heero's lifting a hand to brush away the dark brown bangs from his lovers face, the palm of his hand coming to rest on Heero's cheek. The long haired boy offered him a small, hesitant smile. Heero didn't return it, but slowly pulled the pale boy to him, holding him tightly. For the first time, his touch was more than simply gentle, it was tender. This time, their love making was slow and silent, Heero's eyes never leaving Duo's.

[My love.]

Duo blinked slowly, revealing a slit of violet as he woke. He was greeted by the sight of the door to their room closing silently. The bed was empty save for one long haired American. Duo slowly shut his eyes again.

['So it's better this way.' I said,
having seen this place before.]
"Stop looking at me like that." Duo grumbled, opening his eyes. Hilde blinked slowly, watching him with concern and no little amount of disbelief. Duo frowned.
"...well..." Hilde spoke softly, turning back to the sink, picking up one of the dirty dishes. She picked up a soapy rag in her other hand and began to clean the dried food from the plate.
"Well?" Duo answered firmly, without hesitation, but his voice sounded a little too insistent. Hilde sighed and began to rise the suds off the plate. A silence stretched between them for a moment, before Duo spoke again, quietly this time.
"This is better for me...If he stuck around...You know he works for those scientists...soon he'd have me helping him with his missions, and before you know it, I'll have become his sidekick. And Shinigami is no one's sidekick." Duo ran a hand through his mussed, messily braided hair.
"Mm..." Hilde nodded slowly, starring at the dish in her hands. "But..."
"But?" Duo questioned sharply. Hilde winced slightly. Duo had never been so...harsh. Though he had always been quick to anger, he had allowed a field of patience for her, and had always treated her gently. Then that dark, sullen, cold son of a- Hilde took a deep breath and sighed. Duo had always told her that it was that way of thinking that started wars, but she couldn't help it. She didn't like that Heero Yuy at all. She couldn't understand why anyone would walk out on someone like Duo. And as Duo had become all the family she had in the world, she felt a need to protect him. Especially from someone who could play with Duo's usually steady emotions so easily. She scowled and set the plate down on the counter hard, hard enough to make a clatter, but it didn't break. She turned around and stared at Duo, he face angry.
"Still! It's not right of him and you know it! You didn't do anything wrong and now he's upset you! And you're letting him do it! You're letting him! You always stood up to people before so why...why are you letting him do this to you?!" Hilde stared at him with angry, sad eyes for a long moment, before realizing her mistake. Duo was not one to let anyone control him, or tell him what to do. No matter how much she thought of him as family, he wasn't. He was a killer. A terrorist who took orders from no organization. Her face changed dramatically, stepping back from where Duo sat. Duo was too kind...he wouldn't do that. But his angry eyes told her differently.
"Hilde..." He didn't move from where he sat, and the girl choked softly on her tears. "...please do not try to tell me what I should or should not do. I've been here before. I know what I should do. I'm sorry." The anger in his eyes never left, but neither did he move towards her. Hilde's young eyes quivered.
"You're....you're horrible!" She turned to run away, and Duo managed not to flinch as he watched the tears finally spill over. She was a gentle child. Duo laughed dryly. She wasn't even one year younger than him, and still he called her a child. He sighed and leaned against the table. And the worst part had been that she was right. He could still hear Heero's words...

[Where everything we say and do
hurts us all the more.]

"What is this?"
"Eh...? Hey! Don't touch that!"
"...fine."
"...I...I'm sorry..."
"Hn."
"Heero?"
"What?"
"It's a crucifix. A cross."
"..."
"It's a symbol of faith."
"Faith? You have faith?"
"..."
"Why do you always wear it? Even when we do things like this, you take everything off but that. Doesn't your God condemn people like us?"
"I don't believe in God."
"...then you're a hypocrite. Wearing those clothes...that cross...but you don't have faith."
"I never said I don't have faith."
"..."
"I said I don't believe in God."
"Then what do you have faith in?"
"Death."
"You always sa-"
"You."
"......."
"Hey Heero...Heero...Stop ignoring me!"
"What?"
"Aren't you going to say anything...?"
"Hn."
"...nevermind."
[It's just that we stayed too long
in the same old sickly skin.]

Duo placed his pale hand against the cool metal of Deathscythe's armor, his skin appearing to be sheet white against the jet black Gundam. He moved his thin fingers over the metal, feeling the thrum of the vibration as the engines turned. Duo sighed and moved forward to swing inside the great machine, moving along the small crawl vent that went into the engines.
"Saa...partner, sorry about neglecting you recently, I've been kinda busy..." He ran one finger over the coolant pump, then pulled it back to look at the black grime on the pad. "...still, I left you in pretty bad condition. Sorry...I'll make sure everything is running great today." He picked up a rag and began to clean off the metal, pulling in a bucket of water with him to wash out any clogged pipes. He left the engines running so that he could make sure everything was working correctly, though it created huge amounts of heat, and left the young pilot sweltering. He lifted a hand to wipe his brow and sighed, leaning back against he body of the engine itself, the strong vibrations massaging his back.
"Thanks, Shinigami."
Silence.
"Aa...I know."
Silence.
"Nothing really...just tired."
Silence. Duo laughed.
"Aa, I do say that, don't I? I'm sorry, partner...I should know better than to try deceive you, ne..."
Silence.
"Hey...no need to get mean...I'm just..."
Silence.
"...just a little out of sorts. I mean...am I just going insane or something? I thought things would all turn out okay, as long as I didn't let myself become jaded. I though...if I could just keep trusting people, even if I'm afraid to...I though everything would be alright..."
Silence.
"...but I'm not! I can't ever be pure again, I can't ever see the world as innocent! I'm ruined and lost and I couldn't even see him doing it to me! I thought I was safe! I though...I thought...I wanted to be safe...but I'm still trapped in a cage...and no matter where I turn, I'm always pulled back..."
Silence.
"Sh-Shinigami!!"
The engines pumped behind him, releasing hot stream from the coolants, the huge warm blast of air encircling the trembling figure.
"Shinigami...I believe in you... there is no other god..."

"Why do you say that?" The woman had asked him.
"...because I've never seen a miracle, I've only seen dead bodies."

Alone in the empty crawl way within the black giant, Duo curled up against the engine, listening to the firing of the pistons.

[I'm pulled down by the undertow.
I never thought I could feel so low.]

'We've made our choices... We can't let the colonies involve themselves in this war...'
"Duo... you're too kind." Hilde stared out the window, watching as Deathscythe Hell opened it's huge wings. She loosely draped her arms around herself as she felt a chill pass through her, unable to pull her deep blue eyes away from the metal giant.
"And that's why I'm still alive." Duo looked up, pressing down the final thruster. He couldn't stay here. He'd die, or worse, he'd forget to fight. He didn't know why he fought, but to him, it was enough that he fought. Or, it had been enough. Now nothing was enough. Nothing was worth anything anymore. And even if he was no more than a nameless, faceless soldier, he couldn't let people like Hilde suffer. People who had finally found a way to truly live in peace, even if it wasn't a peace they believed in. At least they weren't fighting.
Deathscythe launched itself, moving up to the colony ceiling. Duo swiftly hacked into the airlock control computer, using the complex scrambling device within Deathscythe's control panel. The light flared and opened the first door for the airlock, closing again once Deathscythe had entered. The second door jolted and began to open, then froze halfway. Duo glanced at his right hand viewing screen, looking at his computer displays. The airlock control workers, obviously caught unawares, were trying to stop him. Duo smirked slightly and tapped a few knobs on the control panel.
The lights in the airlock flared up again and the second door slid open completely, revealing the darkness of space to the giant Mobile Suit. Duo grinned and fired the engines, propelling his partner forward. Blue flame burst out of the thrusters as the Grim Reaper left the colony, moving away from the civilian home and out into space. Within that great structure, a young girl softly cried herself to sleep, her home small and empty. Yet the tears she shed were not for herself. They were the tears of a boy who had forgotten how to cry - or never learned at all.

[Oh darkness I feel like letting go.]

The same boy sat within the cockpit of a metal giant. Just as before, it's engines hummed to him, only now he was safely seated within a harness, rather than within the crawl way, or stowed away in the cargo hold. But this ship had no hold. It was a weapon of war. The hair had grown, down to his thighs now, clean and brushed. His breath was quiet in the cockpit, as Deathscythe Hell was outside, not a sound was heard in the tight vacuum of space. Silent and alone, Death continued to drift. And within Death, Shinigami slept.

[If all of the strength,
and all of the courage,
come and lift me from this place]

Duo shifted in Deathscythe's cockpit, his small frame fitting comfortably into the seat. His long braid was snaked around his body, his breathing slowed in sleep. He shifted again, his eyes shut tightly. He gasped a bit, then twisted around to sit up, but the safety restraint belt held him back. He lifted a hand to his forehead, his cobalt eyes drifting over the controls of the cockpit, as though to affirm where he was. He sighed and shook his head, undoing the restraints to sit up fully.

There was a blip on the left hand viewing screen, and he blinked, looking over at it. OZ Mobile Dolls. God he hated those things...He watched the flash of light through space as the Dolls fired at something. At first, he assumed that it was just target practice, but as he looked closer, he noticed that something was firing back...He switched a few dials on the radar, blinking as two unidentified suits appeared... and Sandrock. The mechanical signature couldn't be anything but Sandrock.

'Quatre...'

Duo quickly set the dials and buttons all across the control panel. If there was one thing that set Deathscythe Hell apart from any of the other Gundams, it was his cloaking system. No radar could pick up his signal, and if he was stationary, he could blend into any background.
Duo grinned. He'd give these Dolls a run for their money. He couldn't stand the thought of assassin machine's. No soldier deserved that.
'No soldier deserves this... Heero... are you a soldier like us? Or a killing machine like them... I don't deserve this...'

[I know I could love you much better than this.]

Duo sighed, sitting on one of the consoles in the Peacemillion. He glanced at Howard and Noin who were leaning over a desk strewn with papers. They had been studying and talking about those schematics, maps, and official papers for hours now. Quatre and Trowa had already left to go to sleep, but Duo remained, sitting half in the shadows, his black outfit making him blend into the darkness. He could barely hear Noin and Howard's words anymore as they discussed the next move they should make in the war. Duo sighed again and pulled one leg up to drape his arms over the propped up knee. Howard looked up at the sigh, glancing over at the young pilot.
"Duo-kun, maybe you should go to bed now? You need the sleep." The old man questioned, quirking his head. Duo couldn't help but smile slightly. He had been so relieved to see Howard and the sea sweepers again...He had been sure they had been killed in that storm. When he had told Howard this, the old man had grinned and laughed at him, telling him that it wasn't that easy to kill off a sweeper. To Duo, it meant one less drop of blood on his hands.
"Shinigami doesn't need to sleep." Duo replied cryptically and Howard raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine, Howard." He grinned and shook his head, as though to clear himself from his pensive mood. The old man looked at him for a moment, then nodded and turned back to Noin, who pointed out something to him. Their voices faded into a soft hum in the back of Duo's mind.
The Shinigami was silent and still, looking beyond the two figures, to look out at space.
'Hey Heero... I wish I could contact you, but I can't find you anywhere, so I guess I'll have to wait until you come to find me...like you always do. Without warning...without reason...just show up on my doorstep... this time I'll be waiting... because I know I love something again. I hate it... this feeling... this knowledge...but I think I can stop it now. I used to think that it was enough that I fought - that they couldn't ask anymore from me. But you have. You asked for more. And I think you were the answer to your own question. I'm doing this for you, Heero. I will bring you peace...It's enough for me to bring you peace...'

[Full of grace.]

Duo curled up in Deathscythe's huge hand, his hair loose. The chestnut strands hung over him like a long curtain. Around them, the hanger was silent, the Peacemillion deep in slumber. But Duo didn't sleep. He stared up at Deathscythe's face, the Gundam dark and quiet.
"Ne...partner..."

[Full of grace.]

Duo sat up slowly, hair dragging over the cold metal. His clerical shirt was unbuttoned, hanging loosely from his shoulders. He pressed his small hand into the center of Deathscythe's palm and smiled slightly.
"...my partner..."

[My love.]

'...Heero... where are you...?'.

End Part 3