You know those awful plot bunnies that give you an idea when you least
expect it and never let up until you finish the story? Well, here you go.
It's been running through my head for days and I've been trying hard to get
it down. I know I should be working on chapter 4 of Through the Eyes, but
I'm uninspired at the moment! So don't hurt me please! This is another
songfic, and I think it came out pretty well. People say I'm good at
songfics. Well, here's your chance to tell me what you think. Please read
and review! I love getting reviews.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the rights to the song "Building a Mystery" by Sarah McLachlan. I thought the song fit it quite well with this, and the pairing. By the way, in case you didn't know, it's shounen- ai 1x2. Now on with it!
~~~*
The war changed us all. There's no denying that. It was inevitable that we change. But you...you were different. Sometimes, I wonder if you really came out okay. I mean, sure, you look the same. You still smile and are your cheery on the outside. But I still wonder if your soul will ever be the same. You've become more...sadistic, I suppose.
//You come out at night,
that's when the energy comes
and the dark side's light
and the vampires roam//
That's the first thing I noticed about you. You loved to be up all through the night. Went we weren't doing...other activities, you would just stare out into the darkness. I asked you once why you did that.
"The night is one of the best times to be up," you had answered, "I learned that from the war. It's the time when you sneak out and do things undetected. And it's during the night when you can have some of the most peaceful of times in the most chaotic of times. Besides, night's when the best creatures come out. I always wondered if demons were real..."
I think eventually you actually started to believe vampires and werewolves and such were real. There was that one night when I found a strand of garlic hanging from the doorway of our bedroom. Sure, that night you were being really kinky, but in the back of my mind I knew something wasn't quite right.
//You strut you rasta wear and your suicide poem and a cross from a faith that died before Jesus came//
I knew about the shrine. The one you set up for your God in that old shed we never used. You never meant for me to find it, but I did. There were so many candles, I wondered if fire is sacred. The walls were painted red, but when I touched them, I knew that it wasn't paint that stained the once brown walls.
Then there's that cross. I'm not talking about the one you used to wear. That's around my neck now, which I've gladly accepted and have never taken off. I'm talking about the one you wear now. It's like any other cross in appearance, but we both know it's different. I found the books. Sometimes you can be so careless, Love. You know how much I love to read. I saw the notes you put along side the writing. Too bad for you I know how to read Latin.
"Upon the night, that was when he rose. He came from the east, his deathly pale skin shining in the moonlight. No one knew who he was, or even if he was human. They questioned him viciously, and he attacked. In a flash of light, they were down, the blood running south in waves. He moved on, ignoring the terrified peasants that ran from him. A little girl, so innocent, asked why. He replied softly and coldly, 'It was their time.'"
Shinigami...
//You're building a mystery//
Are you even the same person anymore?
//You live in a church
where you sleep with Voodoo dolls
and you won't give up the search
for the ghosts in the halls//
You were convinced there was someone else there. The house was big, and sometimes made strange noises. I always assumed it was just the house, but not you. We were all alone one night, watching the fire and reading our books. The furnace in the basement groaned, as it always did. Out of the corner of my eye I saw you jump. Your face was so pale. Did it really scare you that much? You muttered under your breath, and I barely picked it up.
"Father, Sister, please give me strength," you raised your voice and addressed me, "I'll be right back. I forgot I needed to take care of something."
I wanted to ask what it was, but you were gone in the blink of an eye. I sat nervously. I had no idea what was going on. Soon enough you returned. You were smiling broadly. The clock chose that time to chime 11pm, and you went off again. From the hall I heard you say you were going to pray, then a door slam. Ah yes, fourth door to the left. You're little church. You even wanted stained glass windows, though I drew the line there. I relaxed, thinking everything was okay.
Then I found the cross tacked to the door that lead down to the basement. And do you know what was beside the cross? A little straw doll with long blonde hair wearing a white blouse and purple skirt with a pin in her head and a pencil through her heart.
//you wear sandals in the snow and a smile that won't wash away
can you look out the window
without your shadow getting in the way//
We went up to visit the others for Christmas on L4. To say I was nervous was an understatement. What if they noticed something about you? Would they see the same thing? What would they do about it? Would they send you away from me? You were quite normal the entire way there. Your eyes regained that glow that I thought had been lost so long ago. It was like nothing had changed. Like you were unblemished from the war.
Later that day we finally met up with our old friends. None of them had changed that much, though Quatre seemed smaller, more pale. He was usually seen wrapped up in Trowa's tight embrace, a definite difference from his normal self. I suppose with Quatre, Trowa was willing to do anything. The first thing you did when we got out of the car was run and jump into the snow. It was quite entertaining, seeing as how you were wearing a short sleeved shirt, shorts and sandals. I suppose all those winters on L2 without snow got to your brain. The rest of the afternoon went pretty well.
That is, until we made snowmen.
Yours was just like everyone else's. Three balls of compact, white powder forming the body. A carrot nose, raisin mouth, and sticks for arms. Then you went and put your black cape on it's shoulders and your cross on it's neck. You never took off your cross since you had gotten it up to that point. The others thought it was funny when you knelt down before it, one arm across your chest and your head bent. They thought you were playing around. I heard your mumbling. An ancient prayer in Latin. Later on, when I confronted you, you just smiled your happy little smiled and sent me on my way, telling me not to worry about you. But I was.
//you're so beautiful
with an edge and a charm
but so careful
when I'm in your arms//
How is it that you looked so crazy, so insane when you think no one was look watching...yet so warm and gentle when you looked at me?
//'cause you're working
building a mystery
holding on and holding it in
yeah you're working
building a mystery
and choosing so carefully//
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. CRASH. "DAMN IT TO FUCKING HELL!"
For 4 hours, you were down there. 4 long, agonizing hours. I was watching TV when I heard a quiet, consistent knocking sound. I followed it all the way to the basement, astonished to realize you had actually decided to go down there. I tried to turn the handle, but it was locked. Banging on the door, I called your name. No answer. Finally, I gave up and went back to watching TV. You spent the following 3 days down there, only coming up for meals and sleep. After that, you went down there at random moments, 15 minutes here, an hour and a half there. I craved desperately to know what you were doing, but I figured I would find out eventually.
//you woke up screaming loud
a prayer from your secret god
you feed off our fears
and hold back your tears//
"SOLO!"
Your body shot straight up in the bed. Sweat covered your body, shining in the candlelight and the dull white light of my laptop. I had stayed up late typing reports. Your eyes were wide and you were panting slightly. Your right hand was clutching your chest, your left your cross. Tears streamed down your face, and you whimpered. I stood up and in a flash was by your side, cradling you in my arms. You seemed so scared, you were shaking so bad. I whispered calming words into your ear, rocking you back and forth gently.
"Are you okay?" I asked carefully.
"I don't know," you whispered back.
"What happened?"
"Solo...he...it was so terrible! I was standing right there and he fell to the ground bleeding and he blamed me for it all and," you stopped, sobbing in my arms.
"It's not your fault," I said, kissing the top of your head and when you had calmed down continued, "Do you want some sleeping pills? They'll help you."
"Okay," you said softly, your voice hoarse.
I rose and laid you gently back on the bed. Your tears had stopped, and your eyes were bloodshot. I walked calmly out of the room and into the bathroom.
//give us a tantrum
and a know it all grin
just when we need one
when the evening's thin//
I returned a few minutes later, a glass of water and the pills in my hands. I looked over on the bed to see you already sleeping. You had a big smile on your face, as though you were having a wonderful dream. How is it that you can do that so quickly?
I just shook my head and popped the sleeping pills into my mouth. No use in wasting it. Gulping the water, I took off my shirt and slid into the bed next to you. Your arms found my waist and I tangled my fingers in your hair. We had kept the same position for 3 years, and that night was no different. I drifted slowly off to sleep, my last image your angelic face.
//you're a beautiful
a beautiful fucked up man
you're setting up your
razor wire shrine//
It was raining the night you finally showed me what you were doing. Lightning flashed across the sky and the low rumble of thunder sounded off in the distance. I was sitting on the sofa, reading a book when you came creeping in. I guess you wanted to scare me, forgetting how good my hearing was.
"Duo, I know you're there, come over here," I said.
You didn't answer, and for a second I wondered if I had just imagined it. Moments later I found my lap supporting your lithe body. Your braid swung happily behind you and your violet eyes looked up at me, sparkling with the giddiness of a child.
"I have a present for you," you informed me, your voice just screaming pride and joy.
I merely raised an eyebrow as you got up from my lap and bound away into the hall. After a few minutes, you returned, walking slowly with your arms behind your back.
"Okay, give it up. Show them to me!" I put as much enthusiasm in my voice as I could, partly for his sake and partly because I wanted to see what it was.
"There are two parts. Pick an arm!" you giggled.
I looked at both of your arms, contemplating, before picking your left arm. You brought it in front of you and happily presented me with a picture frame. You excitedly told me you had made it yourself as I observed it more closely. It was, of course, black. Designs were etched carefully in what looked to be cherry wood. Ancient Celtic, Japanese, and Chinese symbols plus what looked like our Zodiac signs ran up and down the smooth wood. It was gorgeous.
"Duo...this is unbelievable! It's so beautiful. I love it," I murmured.
"Wait, I'm not done yet! Do you want to see what's in the other hand?" you asked.
I nodded vigorously, and you revealed what was in your right hand. What I saw took my breath away. It was a sculpture, but one unlike what I had ever seen. There were two figures, each about the size of my fist. They were exact replicas of you and me. You were dressed in all black, the tell tale cross on your neck, and a scythe in your left hand. I, on the other hand, was dressed in a white tunic with pearly white wings. The figures were spaced apart, and the one that looked like me had it's hand reached out, barely brushing your figure's fingertips. The faces both looked desperate and devastated, as if they were being tore apart from each other. On the ground was a miniature knife, stained red. A trail of red on the marble base lead back to your figure, and I could tell what had happened.
"This is incredible. I've never seen anything so exquisite," I finally managed to get out.
"So...do you like them?" you asked sheepishly.
"Of course I do!" I said before enveloping you tightly in my arms. You then proceeded to squeal in delight and smother my face in kisses. Neither or us got much sleep that night.
//'cause you're working
building a mystery
holding on and holding it in
yeah you're working
building a mystery
and choosing so carefully//
In the end we decided to put the picture of us in front of our Gundams with your arm around my waist in the frame. It went up on the mantle above the fireplace along with the sculpture. You continued to live your life like normal. Or, as normal as it got for you. Down the road somewhere I realized you were somewhat mentally unstable. I never said anything though. I know you suspected I knew, but it was our little secret. I made a vow to myself that we would get through everything together, and I would never let them take you from me. I realized that I needed you as much as you needed me. So I kept silent. Let you do as you like and never saying a word. Thus was the life of Shinigami and the Perfect Soldier.
//you're building a mystery//
My beautiful Shinigami...
~~~*
Um, review? Please? Love you all!
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the rights to the song "Building a Mystery" by Sarah McLachlan. I thought the song fit it quite well with this, and the pairing. By the way, in case you didn't know, it's shounen- ai 1x2. Now on with it!
~~~*
The war changed us all. There's no denying that. It was inevitable that we change. But you...you were different. Sometimes, I wonder if you really came out okay. I mean, sure, you look the same. You still smile and are your cheery on the outside. But I still wonder if your soul will ever be the same. You've become more...sadistic, I suppose.
//You come out at night,
that's when the energy comes
and the dark side's light
and the vampires roam//
That's the first thing I noticed about you. You loved to be up all through the night. Went we weren't doing...other activities, you would just stare out into the darkness. I asked you once why you did that.
"The night is one of the best times to be up," you had answered, "I learned that from the war. It's the time when you sneak out and do things undetected. And it's during the night when you can have some of the most peaceful of times in the most chaotic of times. Besides, night's when the best creatures come out. I always wondered if demons were real..."
I think eventually you actually started to believe vampires and werewolves and such were real. There was that one night when I found a strand of garlic hanging from the doorway of our bedroom. Sure, that night you were being really kinky, but in the back of my mind I knew something wasn't quite right.
//You strut you rasta wear and your suicide poem and a cross from a faith that died before Jesus came//
I knew about the shrine. The one you set up for your God in that old shed we never used. You never meant for me to find it, but I did. There were so many candles, I wondered if fire is sacred. The walls were painted red, but when I touched them, I knew that it wasn't paint that stained the once brown walls.
Then there's that cross. I'm not talking about the one you used to wear. That's around my neck now, which I've gladly accepted and have never taken off. I'm talking about the one you wear now. It's like any other cross in appearance, but we both know it's different. I found the books. Sometimes you can be so careless, Love. You know how much I love to read. I saw the notes you put along side the writing. Too bad for you I know how to read Latin.
"Upon the night, that was when he rose. He came from the east, his deathly pale skin shining in the moonlight. No one knew who he was, or even if he was human. They questioned him viciously, and he attacked. In a flash of light, they were down, the blood running south in waves. He moved on, ignoring the terrified peasants that ran from him. A little girl, so innocent, asked why. He replied softly and coldly, 'It was their time.'"
Shinigami...
//You're building a mystery//
Are you even the same person anymore?
//You live in a church
where you sleep with Voodoo dolls
and you won't give up the search
for the ghosts in the halls//
You were convinced there was someone else there. The house was big, and sometimes made strange noises. I always assumed it was just the house, but not you. We were all alone one night, watching the fire and reading our books. The furnace in the basement groaned, as it always did. Out of the corner of my eye I saw you jump. Your face was so pale. Did it really scare you that much? You muttered under your breath, and I barely picked it up.
"Father, Sister, please give me strength," you raised your voice and addressed me, "I'll be right back. I forgot I needed to take care of something."
I wanted to ask what it was, but you were gone in the blink of an eye. I sat nervously. I had no idea what was going on. Soon enough you returned. You were smiling broadly. The clock chose that time to chime 11pm, and you went off again. From the hall I heard you say you were going to pray, then a door slam. Ah yes, fourth door to the left. You're little church. You even wanted stained glass windows, though I drew the line there. I relaxed, thinking everything was okay.
Then I found the cross tacked to the door that lead down to the basement. And do you know what was beside the cross? A little straw doll with long blonde hair wearing a white blouse and purple skirt with a pin in her head and a pencil through her heart.
//you wear sandals in the snow and a smile that won't wash away
can you look out the window
without your shadow getting in the way//
We went up to visit the others for Christmas on L4. To say I was nervous was an understatement. What if they noticed something about you? Would they see the same thing? What would they do about it? Would they send you away from me? You were quite normal the entire way there. Your eyes regained that glow that I thought had been lost so long ago. It was like nothing had changed. Like you were unblemished from the war.
Later that day we finally met up with our old friends. None of them had changed that much, though Quatre seemed smaller, more pale. He was usually seen wrapped up in Trowa's tight embrace, a definite difference from his normal self. I suppose with Quatre, Trowa was willing to do anything. The first thing you did when we got out of the car was run and jump into the snow. It was quite entertaining, seeing as how you were wearing a short sleeved shirt, shorts and sandals. I suppose all those winters on L2 without snow got to your brain. The rest of the afternoon went pretty well.
That is, until we made snowmen.
Yours was just like everyone else's. Three balls of compact, white powder forming the body. A carrot nose, raisin mouth, and sticks for arms. Then you went and put your black cape on it's shoulders and your cross on it's neck. You never took off your cross since you had gotten it up to that point. The others thought it was funny when you knelt down before it, one arm across your chest and your head bent. They thought you were playing around. I heard your mumbling. An ancient prayer in Latin. Later on, when I confronted you, you just smiled your happy little smiled and sent me on my way, telling me not to worry about you. But I was.
//you're so beautiful
with an edge and a charm
but so careful
when I'm in your arms//
How is it that you looked so crazy, so insane when you think no one was look watching...yet so warm and gentle when you looked at me?
//'cause you're working
building a mystery
holding on and holding it in
yeah you're working
building a mystery
and choosing so carefully//
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. CRASH. "DAMN IT TO FUCKING HELL!"
For 4 hours, you were down there. 4 long, agonizing hours. I was watching TV when I heard a quiet, consistent knocking sound. I followed it all the way to the basement, astonished to realize you had actually decided to go down there. I tried to turn the handle, but it was locked. Banging on the door, I called your name. No answer. Finally, I gave up and went back to watching TV. You spent the following 3 days down there, only coming up for meals and sleep. After that, you went down there at random moments, 15 minutes here, an hour and a half there. I craved desperately to know what you were doing, but I figured I would find out eventually.
//you woke up screaming loud
a prayer from your secret god
you feed off our fears
and hold back your tears//
"SOLO!"
Your body shot straight up in the bed. Sweat covered your body, shining in the candlelight and the dull white light of my laptop. I had stayed up late typing reports. Your eyes were wide and you were panting slightly. Your right hand was clutching your chest, your left your cross. Tears streamed down your face, and you whimpered. I stood up and in a flash was by your side, cradling you in my arms. You seemed so scared, you were shaking so bad. I whispered calming words into your ear, rocking you back and forth gently.
"Are you okay?" I asked carefully.
"I don't know," you whispered back.
"What happened?"
"Solo...he...it was so terrible! I was standing right there and he fell to the ground bleeding and he blamed me for it all and," you stopped, sobbing in my arms.
"It's not your fault," I said, kissing the top of your head and when you had calmed down continued, "Do you want some sleeping pills? They'll help you."
"Okay," you said softly, your voice hoarse.
I rose and laid you gently back on the bed. Your tears had stopped, and your eyes were bloodshot. I walked calmly out of the room and into the bathroom.
//give us a tantrum
and a know it all grin
just when we need one
when the evening's thin//
I returned a few minutes later, a glass of water and the pills in my hands. I looked over on the bed to see you already sleeping. You had a big smile on your face, as though you were having a wonderful dream. How is it that you can do that so quickly?
I just shook my head and popped the sleeping pills into my mouth. No use in wasting it. Gulping the water, I took off my shirt and slid into the bed next to you. Your arms found my waist and I tangled my fingers in your hair. We had kept the same position for 3 years, and that night was no different. I drifted slowly off to sleep, my last image your angelic face.
//you're a beautiful
a beautiful fucked up man
you're setting up your
razor wire shrine//
It was raining the night you finally showed me what you were doing. Lightning flashed across the sky and the low rumble of thunder sounded off in the distance. I was sitting on the sofa, reading a book when you came creeping in. I guess you wanted to scare me, forgetting how good my hearing was.
"Duo, I know you're there, come over here," I said.
You didn't answer, and for a second I wondered if I had just imagined it. Moments later I found my lap supporting your lithe body. Your braid swung happily behind you and your violet eyes looked up at me, sparkling with the giddiness of a child.
"I have a present for you," you informed me, your voice just screaming pride and joy.
I merely raised an eyebrow as you got up from my lap and bound away into the hall. After a few minutes, you returned, walking slowly with your arms behind your back.
"Okay, give it up. Show them to me!" I put as much enthusiasm in my voice as I could, partly for his sake and partly because I wanted to see what it was.
"There are two parts. Pick an arm!" you giggled.
I looked at both of your arms, contemplating, before picking your left arm. You brought it in front of you and happily presented me with a picture frame. You excitedly told me you had made it yourself as I observed it more closely. It was, of course, black. Designs were etched carefully in what looked to be cherry wood. Ancient Celtic, Japanese, and Chinese symbols plus what looked like our Zodiac signs ran up and down the smooth wood. It was gorgeous.
"Duo...this is unbelievable! It's so beautiful. I love it," I murmured.
"Wait, I'm not done yet! Do you want to see what's in the other hand?" you asked.
I nodded vigorously, and you revealed what was in your right hand. What I saw took my breath away. It was a sculpture, but one unlike what I had ever seen. There were two figures, each about the size of my fist. They were exact replicas of you and me. You were dressed in all black, the tell tale cross on your neck, and a scythe in your left hand. I, on the other hand, was dressed in a white tunic with pearly white wings. The figures were spaced apart, and the one that looked like me had it's hand reached out, barely brushing your figure's fingertips. The faces both looked desperate and devastated, as if they were being tore apart from each other. On the ground was a miniature knife, stained red. A trail of red on the marble base lead back to your figure, and I could tell what had happened.
"This is incredible. I've never seen anything so exquisite," I finally managed to get out.
"So...do you like them?" you asked sheepishly.
"Of course I do!" I said before enveloping you tightly in my arms. You then proceeded to squeal in delight and smother my face in kisses. Neither or us got much sleep that night.
//'cause you're working
building a mystery
holding on and holding it in
yeah you're working
building a mystery
and choosing so carefully//
In the end we decided to put the picture of us in front of our Gundams with your arm around my waist in the frame. It went up on the mantle above the fireplace along with the sculpture. You continued to live your life like normal. Or, as normal as it got for you. Down the road somewhere I realized you were somewhat mentally unstable. I never said anything though. I know you suspected I knew, but it was our little secret. I made a vow to myself that we would get through everything together, and I would never let them take you from me. I realized that I needed you as much as you needed me. So I kept silent. Let you do as you like and never saying a word. Thus was the life of Shinigami and the Perfect Soldier.
//you're building a mystery//
My beautiful Shinigami...
~~~*
Um, review? Please? Love you all!