Dear lord O.o; I'm actually done with parts 4 and 5. I can't believe it. I stayed up til 4 AM writing, but they're finally finished. Why stay up so late? ^^; Well, it's all thanks to Tyr. This particular individual helped me a great deal, by generously offering to send the first three chapters of FTE out to all the GWing mailing list they were on, which were quite a few(I'm not on but more than 1 ML because I just can't handle the mail load ^^;). This generated feedback from several people that truly encouraged me to write. Again, thank you Tyr! ^^
I still can't believe I finished this in one night O.o; Saaaa...Well, it turned out better than I expected it too, though it's a bit confusing in parts. Oh well ^^; I hope you enjoy.
Also. I try not to use too much Japanese in my fics, but this phrase is actually written in hiragana in the story, so I wrote it in romanji. The phrase is "Genki da ne?" which means "Are you alright?"


Do What you Have to Do
By Ashura no Miko
Do What you Have to Do by Sarah McLachlan
___________________________


[What ravages of spirit
conjured this temptuous rage?]

The ZERO system's lights flickered to life within Wing Gundam's cockpit. The minute buzzes and clicks as the monstrous machine ran the system checks were the only noise in the tiny space. Outside the thick gundamium walls and mechanisms, the vacuum of space sucked in all external sound, and the thrusters on Wing's legs fired on silently. Within the metal giant's hollow chest, a small boy woke up slowly as the machine that connected directly to his brain began to fire signals to him. Prussian blue eyes widened, staring blankly at the head screen placed in front of his face. Slowly raising powerful hands, he carefully removed the ZERO helmet from his head, and blinked rapidly until his eyes adjusted to the light in the cockpit, the view screens showing him a pixilated version of space. Whatever beauty space had once represented to man meant nothing to the expressionless boy who leaned back casually, yet stiffly in the cockpit chair. Instead, his eyes swept the machine stats on the bottom of the left hand screen. With deft, keyboard familiar fingers he brought up the main screen stats, reading over recent messages and reports. Brief firings of light and words swirled in his pupils as his brain deciphered the complex codes that had been sent to him. One message caused him pause, written in simple hiragana.

'Genki da na...?'

He closed it and scrolled on to the next one.

[Created you a monster,
broken by the rules of love.]

Heero curled in the cockpit chair, his arms pressed against his chest, rolling onto his side. The position was wholly unnatural for him - he was used to sleeping straight out on his back, but after two hours, he was still unable to attain sleep. He shut his eyes and slowed his breathing, listening to his heart slow down to the regular, slow beat that it needed to let the body rest. For a moment, his mind blanked, as he though he might be able to slip back into the restful sleep he had left a few hours ago when he read the incoming documents, but the moment passed, and unconsciousness still eluded him. He growled in anger, yet nothing presented itself for him to blame. But then...

'Genki da na...?'

He bolted upright, glaring at the view screen as though it might shrink back in fear as a living being would, but it just continued to broadcast the view of space to him, unfazed. He lifted one hand and typed across the control rapidly, space disappearing to resume scrolling through recent documents. His clacking stopped abruptly, then slowly pressed enter. The katakana sprung to the screen again, and Heero stared at the dancing pixels before his eyes.
The origin of the message was impossible to determine, but the message was not coded - open for anyone to read. Heero scowled at the simple phrase that dared to try and stare him down.
'Heero....genki da na...?' He slammed one finger down to reply to it, rapidly typing, in his own words automatically coded so that only the person he was writing to would understand his simple, unimportant message.

'Don't bother me again.'

He reached out to press 'ENTER'....

'Heero...genki da na...?'

His hand moved away from the 'ENTER' button and he deleted the reply message before closing the screen, self-loathing scalding his throat as he lay down again.
[And fate has lead you through it,
you do what you have to do.]

Heero stared at the blank metal walls of Peacemillion, running his hardened fingers over the planes of stainless steel that comprised all the hallways of the space fortress. He walked the corridors silently, save for the soft thud of his sneaker clad feet against the hard floor beneath him. Each step brought him a little closer to something that he both dreaded and needed.
He felt like he was walking back against a current, or through a dream, rather than the fluorescence-lit ship. Perhaps the metal walls, cooled to a biting cold by the temperature regulating system, pulled his mind back enough to keep him upright.
He paused, stopping at the door that had summoned him here. He blankly stared at it, eyes grazing over the name that had been scrawled messily across it in permanent black marker. The fact that he was unsure caused anger, built by fear, to clench in his gut, his hands mirroring it as they curled into fists. One of which, he used to knock on the door before him.
There was no reply.

[And fate has led you through it
you do what you have to do...]

The door slid open with an almost inaudible 'whoosh', and Heero stepped into the significantly warmer hanger within the heart of Peacemillion. Divided into sections to accommodate to the thin design of the space fortress, each "room" was designed to hold about three Mobile Suits. Due to the amazing hulk of the Gundams, they could only fit one in per "room", and this particular room housed the majestic darkness of Death. Even Heero had to admit there was something about the L2 Gundam that inspired awe in anyone who looked at it. Its black facade and glowing green eyes could paralyze it's enemies with fear, and the huge thermal scythe that defied the laws of nature only added to it's supernatural aura. How someone as bright and cheerful as Duo could be that close to Death baffled Heero, but the braided boy seemed to have an affinity with both his metal partner and it's spiritual counterpart - Shinigami, as Duo called it. A rather silly, melodramatic Japanese term for the Reaper, but it fit the Gundam and its pilot.
Heero made his way along the thin catwalk without trepidation. The thin metal bars were the only railing between him and an 18 meter drop, but the Wing pilot wasn't bothered until he glanced down at Deathscythe's huge hand. Laying across the palm of the great black beast was the very boy he was looking for...The arm of Deathscythe had been raised up, to make a flat surface, and Duo lay stretched across it, arms, head, and loose hair dangling dangerously over the fatal drop to the ground, back arched gracefully in slumber, black clerical shirt unbuttoned, unaware of his precarious position.
Afraid that if he tried to wake Duo by making noise the other boy would be surprised and fall, Heero moved to the ladder attached to the catwalk, moving down it until he was at a safe enough distance to latch on to Deathscythe's immense body. Once he had a good grip, he began to climb up to the shoulder joint. He made his way over the arm carefully, finally reaching the palm.
Duo was sitting there, looking up at him with cobalt blue eyes that seemed to drag him down.

[And I have the sense to recognize,
that I don't know how to let you go.]

"...Du..." Heero stared down at the violet eyed beauty, but found himself unable to do or say anything, or even manage a glare. The word's he'd planned to say left him when his eyes met those of the fey boy kneeling before him. The very idea of turning and storming away was so repulsive to him now that he had already dismissed it. Faintly, he felt the pull to leave the darkly dressed boy who had become his first and only lover, but just as always, the urge to remain beside him became stronger with each meeting. And this time, it was almost too strong to resist. Duo smiled up at him, but it was more like a smirk as he lifted one pale hand, long, graceful fingers wrapping themselves into the green material of Heero's tank top. The Japanese pilot didn't resist him as he pulled him down to connect their lips. The next few minutes blurred and blacked out for Heero, the mind numbing sensations of Duo's lips and hands too intense to allow any other train of thought. When he felt himself pull back to breathe, he was laying down on Deathscythe's hand, straddling Duo's slender form, hands buried in the silky locks that spread all around him. He stared down into the cobalt eyes and felt caught, unable to break the gaze. They were half lidded, and gazed up at Heero with such flippant intensity that the other boy wondered how Duo managed to create such an emotion without thought.
"...I knew you'd come..."
Heero's face softened at Duo's almost inaudible words. It was too much trust. Too much fragile trust in his hands - hands that didn't know their own strength. He wanted to open his mouth and tell Duo that he'd been wrong, that he hadn't come here for this. That he was going to leave soon. That he didn't deserve that trust. But all he could do was lower himself on trembling limbs to meet Duo's too tempting lips again, and at that moment, he knew he was lost.

[Every moment marked
with apparitions of your soul.]

The hatch of Deathscythe's cockpit was shut, granting the couple within it perfect darkness, though it was only Heero who gazed into it. The light weight on top of him was pleasant, almost comforting, rather than stifling as he would have imagined had he not been lying there. The cockpit chair was hard beneath his back, but the soft, supple figure that lay on his chest made up for any discomfort he felt from laying in the small, confined space of the Gundam cockpit. His hand slowly traced down the side of the figure curled up on him, calloused fingers running over the soft skin that covered firm muscles. Chestnut strands covered Heero's bare body like a blanket, and his arms clasped Duo's curled figure to him tightly. Duo shifted a little as the arms tightened, then resumed dozing in his post-coital lethargy.
Heero, though, didn't try to follow Duo into sleep. The separation of wakefulness and sleep was all he could cling to at the moment, Duo's body all too close and all too warm for him to distance himself from it. And somehow, the idea of disrupting Duo's sleep just didn't settle well with him. He had killed people for merely getting in his way, yet waking this beautiful disturbance seemed almost morally wrong to him. He scowled faintly, but still couldn't bring himself to sit up, though he swore when Duo did wake, he'd return to his room and leave the long haired boy here with his 'partner'.
He breathed in Duo's scent and felt himself begin to relax. The familiar smell invaded his senses and pulled him down into the restfulness he'd been seeking since that message Duo had sent had come to him. Nights of tossing and turning seemed far away all of a sudden, the warm body atop him finally bringing him the comfort he both desired and rejected at the same time. For a moment he tried to resist the darkness, hoping that if he defied the ease that Duo gave to him, he'd be able to escape those violet eyes that had so swayed and changed him, but eventually the need for rest won out, and he slipped into oblivion.

[I'm ever swiftly moving
trying to escape this desire.]

Heero stood on the cat walk, his clothes hastily replaced on his body, sneakers untied. He gazed down into Deathscythe's now opened cockpit, which was a good ten yards away from him. Inside the small space, Duo leaned his head on his arms, which in turn were placed on his propped up knees. Unmindful of his nudity, the long haired boy watched Heero with unwavering cobalt eyes, and the Japanese boy felt himself shift under the weight of this gaze. He didn't understand how he could feel such nervousness and fear when the young American could gaze at him without even blinking. Was Duo even better at disguising his feelings than he? Or was the long haired boy not moved at all by their meetings? Heero desperately tried to deny the latter, but the thought that the smiling Shinigami felt nothing for him past sex was all too easy to see. That was why he had to leave. If he turned his back first, then he'd never have to watch Duo walk away from him. Besides...he wondered if Duo even felt that remorse at all.
He turned and began to walk away, not pausing it look at the youth he was leaving behind, too afraid that if he did, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from walking straight back into those comforting arms and bright eyes that promised Death. He was sure of that now. Duo was Death, just as he claimed. Bright and cheerful, but a road to death nonetheless. And Heero had been walking his path for far too long. Sometimes he wondered if his turning and walking away even helped anymore. Duo drew him forward every time - urging him to find him again. Sex was a grand excuse for what was quickly turning into obsession, and as Heero shut the door, he realized that the cold metal and steel was not enough of a barrier to keep his longing for Duo at bay.
[The yearning to be near you...
I do what I have to do.]

Heero slammed both his hands into the metal walls of his barren room within the Peacemillion, in a futile attempt to stop the shaking of his arms. He hung his head, breath coming as though he had just run a marathon, though he had only walked the distance between the hanger and his room. In his mind, it was the hardest he had ever run before. It had been a run to escape the desire to return to Death's waiting arms. Laughter bubbled up inside of himself, hard and self-depreciating. A soldier chased Death, not the other way around...But in the end, he realized, it had been him that chased his pale Shinigami. Duo never came looking for him. Duo never searched him out. Duo never seemed to feel the desperation and need that he felt. As everything else in this life, it was merely a joke to the American. Even Death was a joke to him. Was it even possible for Death to feel? The supposed 'perfect soldier' was also not supposed to feel - but only someone with great compassion can fight with all their heart, and Heero's childhood honesty and emotions had served him well up till now, giving him all the compassion he had needed to fight completely. Now it was that same compassion that drew him further and further away from his goal.
War was the only constant in their world, and now was the critical moment that might decide whether or not peace would ever even come to them at all. Now was the time that his emotional detachment and deadly accuracy was most needed. Now was the time that the 'perfect soldier' would be able to do his best for both Earth and space. But it was now that all that particular soldier could see was Death. And what good was peace without life...? Why fight so hard if all it meant was death?
For the first time in his life, Heero found himself questioning his actions. Regret. It was something he had only felt once...but this feeling of questioning was foreign to him. He lived his life forward - he did what he had to and then decided later on whether or not it was the right thing to do. But now... now he was thinking of the future. It was something that he could not afford to consider.
[The yearning to be near you...
I do what I have to do.]

Sleep had never seemed so tempting. Nor so elusive.
He had hoped that a brief time with Duo would cure his insomnia, but it only seemed to have made it worse. Before, he had managed to make it through the night by taking short, light cat naps that left him tired and weary for the next day, though with just enough energy to complete his missions and daily tasks. But this was something that was completely alien to him. This was the complete and utter inability to achieve even the lightest sleep.
The sterilized, crisp sheets that had been provided him now lay rumpled on the ground, where Heero had angrily tossed them about an hour ago. Peacemillion was quiet, save for the low, constant thrum of the engines that kept it in its mid Earth orbit. But neither the silence nor the darkness of the room could lure him into unconsciousness. It was the most irritating and frustrating feeling, his fingers twitching with excess energy as his body lay frozen with the sheer need to sleep. His mind continued to buzz, despite his attempts to calm it and slow his thoughts. Never quite awake, never quite asleep, he was left tired and energetic at the same time, torn between the desire to jump out of bed and pace, and the desire to sleep for hours.
He refused to acknowledge the fact that Duo might bring him the sleep he so needed, rolling over to once again try to drift off.

[But I have the sense to recognize
that I don't know how to let you go.]

Cold prussian eyes gazed down at the comfortably sleeping figure, and the anger and jealousy that Duo could rest to easily almost tempted Heero to reach out and hit the face that had burned itself onto the back of his eyelids. The idea of hitting Duo seemed so repulsive and yet so wickedly tempting that Heero swayed on his feet, stepping back before he could give into that temptation. The tiredness and confusion left his senses fogged and clouded, and he didn't check to see what he was stepping back on to. The slight noise of Heero's foot kicking a bag was enough to wake the dark soldier, and Heero could faintly make out the graceful outline of Duo's rising form.
"Heero...?"
The scowl rose unbidden to Heero's face - though he knew Duo couldn't see it in the darkness, it was the only defense he had against those violet orbs that still shined at him through the blackened room.
"Heero...why are you here?"
That was right. He didn't even have a reason to be here. Heero's scowl deepened. No, he had a reason, a very good one. The important part was that he didn't have an excuse. He simply would not tell Duo that he needed the braided boy nearby to sleep well - it would give Duo too much power over him. More power than he already had.

[I don't know how to let you go.]

Despite the lack of visibility, Heero knew Duo was smiling. He could feel it. He scowled more, but found it felt more like a pout, and so turned his head to the side.
"...you...want to sleep here?"
Despite the fact that Duo was offering it, Heero felt even worse than before. He had thought that the moment when he had to ask Duo if he could would be the worst, but this was far more degrading. To have Duo offer it as though he were a child who couldn't summon up the courage to even ask for himself... To have Duo offer it when he already knew that Heero wouldn't say 'no' and would have to accept it as a favor... He couldn't even summon up the breath to push the word 'yes' from his lips. Instead he just walked towards the bed, finally standing before it.
Below him, Duo blinked up at him almost curiously and the scowl faded from Heero's face, anger already fading...

[A glowing ember...]

The peace was so foreign, so very unreal to the war scarred skin...
Cold hands traced Heero's sharp features before moving to cradle his head and slowly lower it to the pillow. Spindly fingers ran through the already mussed dark brown hair, sweeping the bangs from Heero's face. Heero's half lidded eyes stared up at the faint outline of his lover, the burning ache in his chest building as he arched his back off the bed, striving to release the pent up fear and pain.

[...burning hot...]

Warm lips pressed firmly, yet gently against his cheeks and brow, tracing the fine contours of his face as though to memorize it with the sensitive nerve endings around his lover's mouth. The tension leaked from his shoulders, almost as though the bed was eager to absorb it from his exhausted muscles.

[...burning slow.]

The haze of sleep began to cotton his mind, but still Duo rocked and cradled him, kissing and coddling him into restfulness. Vaguely, Heero wondered why Duo would do this for him, but the thought was fleeting as the gentle touches of Death lured him to sleep, and the soldier lay vulnerable before its pained violet eyes. Pain that Heero had never seen.

[Deep within I'm shaken by the violence
of existing for only you.]

Heero stared down at the boy beneath him, watching the sleep relaxed features. His pale, ghostly skin was lax and limp over his bones, and slightly transparent in the dim light. Heero could see all the blue veins running like rivers just beneath the inhumanly smooth surface of the boy's face, and Heero's eyes traced every twist and turn of that life giving river. White, cracked lips were parted slightly, and breath spilled forth from them. It was strange to see Duo without the normal, manic grin. It was...
Long, dark lashed fluttered slightly, moving up to reveal the tiniest slit of cobalt. Loathe to leave his moment of contemplation, Heero raised a hand to lower the lids again. A look of confusion passed over Duo's face as he tried to open his eyes again, only to find Heero's fingers gently holding them shut, and after a moment, he stilled, not trying to resist the strength of the boy leaning over him.
The lights of the small room were dimly lit, run by the computers to simulate 'morning' inside of the space fortress. It was just enough light for Heero to study the other pilot by. Still caught between sleep and confusion at Heero's actions, Duo hadn't yet begun to smile or truly waken, leaving Heero free to take in the face he so rarely saw. It was the most earnest look he had ever received from Duo - and it wasn't even aimed at him. Of course, it made sense that Duo would only be honest with him when he was unaware. Heero knew he'd never see such truth from the American - not to his face, not for his sake alone. That could only come from liking. Loving. The very word made Heero recoil, sitting up straight in the bed, gazing down at Duo with hard, cold eyes.
Duo's eyes blinked rapidly before remaining open, and he stared up at Heero with confusion, before taking in the glare. The long haired boy blinked again, then smiled amiably, any and all earnesty dissolving from his face.

[I know I can't be with you.
I do what I have to do.]

"Heero..."
The Japanese pilot watched him, unblinking.
"Ne...Heero..."
The cold, prussian eyes stared deeply into Duo, searching for an unnamed emotion that he could never find.
"Heero...genki da na...?"
The air caught in Heero's throat, and he just stared silently at Duo, the ticking of the bedside clock filling his ears, along with the huff of the vents as they filled the small room with fresh air. The lights hummed softly as the voltage given to them was increased, brightening the room a bit more. Duo lifted an arm to shade his recently opened eyes from the electronic light that buzzed from the bulbs in the ceiling. Heero blinked slightly, eyes still tracing the slight figure before him, watching the smile return as Duo laughed softly and lowered his arm. Even that...

'Heero...genki da na...?'

The concern he had hoped was there still rested on the lips that smiled so ruefully up at him. There was an ache in his chest, and Heero felt a brief flare of anger before he realized that he had forgotten to start breathing again. He gritted his teeth and began to take the manufactured air into his lungs. He glared at the grin that had mocked him. The lips that grinned at him, yet still asked him if he was alright...even that... Even that which had taken sleep from him was no more than a joke.
"I'm fine." With that he stood, not having to pick anything up, and walked directly to the door, hitting the open button with more force than was necessary. The metal panel slide open, and Heero walked out, hearing it shut behind him.
In the hallways, he let out a shuddering breath and fought down the plainly irrational urge to break down right there.
I can't do this.
[I know I can't be with you.
I do what I have to do.]

Heero turned the locks on the space suit until they clicked, locking the metal rings of the gloves to the rings of the arms before picking up the helmet. He put it over his head, slid the ring around to lock tightly, and walked out onto the walkway that led towards Wing. The giant Suit stared down at him, almost accusingly, and Heero felt the insane urge to apologize to it. He sighed softly and shook his head. He wasn't like Duo, always talking to his Gundam as though it were a living being. Heero's head snapped up and his bit his lip hard. Again. Again and again and again...why did all his thoughts have to come back to Duo somehow...?
"Heero...?"
He turned to face Relena, and for once felt relief to see her. Usually when he saw her, he felt the tension in him between the instincts that told him to kill her for the mission, and the respect and even slight affection that told him to protect her. But this once, it was a relief to see her face staring back at him, and not that grin that was burned into his mind. Her eyes were concerned, and Heero shook his head, pushing off a wall to float to Wing, catching the edge of the cockpit and pulling himself in. She followed him, and for the first time he gave in to the urge to actually speak to her. It would almost be easier if he did feel affection for her - at least he'd know that she did return it. But...
Wing rocketed from the hanger, and he could hear her screaming ringing in his ears. He felt a certain sense of remorse, but not the same dragging regret that he could only associate with two sets of eyes. One dead, one still smiling mockingly at him. He'd never feel that kind of regret again. He fired Wing forward. Never again. Not with any person. Not the regret of killing or the regret of...the regret of...
"Heero, stop!!"
He silently apologized to Relena, but still moved forward. He'd never feel this regret again. Because after this battle he'd never have to face those eyes again. Because after this battle, he'd never feel the need to chase those welcoming arms and poisonous lips. Because after this battle...he'd be...
[And I have sense to recognize but...]

Wing shuddered with the force of the explosion, but to Heero the jarring sensation meant peace. The temperature of the cockpit began to rise rapidly, the temperature regulating systems unable to cope with the intense heat of the Earth's atmosphere. Heero felt a smile drift over his lips slowly, though it was more like a smirk than a true smile. He was done.
The battle was over. Libra was destroyed. Zechs was dead. Treize was dead. OZ was gone. Their war was over. This was peace. And he was searching out his own peace.
Pieces of Wing began to be ripped off by the metal crushing force of their reentry, and it was clear that before they even were halfway through, the burning heat and pressure would destroy the Gundam. And then he'd never have to face those eyes again.
"Heero!! Libra...!!" A voice from the Peacemillion interrupted his rest, crackling with static over the speakers.
Heero's eyes snapped open, staring up at the forward view screen to find a large piece of Libra rocketing towards him. His eyes widened as he stared at the piece, mind quickly calculating that such a structure would still cause immense damage to the Earth. He looked down, staring at the controls before him. The chance to stop this...the chance to...
'Have I ever really known peace...?'
His hands clenched into fists as he remembered the feel of warm, soft skin beneath his fingertips. He was trading Death for Death. Live with Death. Die for Death. Either way, he knew those eyes would follow him where ever he went...
"Heero!!"
...but...

[I don't know how to let you go.]

He slammed his hand down against the controls, the Buster rifle firing a huge blast of energy towards the Libra fragment, disintegrating it as it fell. He was jarred harshly as the Gundam's wings were opened behind him and the thrusters carried him up wards. Back into space.

[I don't know how to let you go.]

He could hear their cheering. He could hear the shouts and laughter. No more war. It was over. He stared blankly at the controls, then looked up at the view screen as faces began to appear on it. Quatre's ecstatic smile. Trowa's slight, but respectful nod and quirk of his lips. Wufei's admiring obsidian eyes and bow. The Peacemillion's cheering crew, along with the joyful faces of Howard, Relena, Noin and Sally.
And then there was... Heero turned to look at the right view screen, staring into those eyes he still couldn't escape.

[I don't know how to let you go...]

"Heero...genki da na?"
Unable to do anything else but nod, Heero slumped in his seat.

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Thank you to everyone who ever gave me feed back. I appreciate it still, and maybe one day I'll finish all those unfinished GWing projects in my folders.