Warnings: eventual yaoi pairings, adult language and themes. Depending on
my mood, the rating may change
I don't, in any way, own Gundam Wing or the characters from the show. Additional characters and this story, however, are of my own invention.
Note: This story is 2 things, an exercise in writing and a personal form of catharsis. Everything written here is, in some way, based on my experience in the past year. It is the story of a friend's struggle with Bi-Polar Disorder. It doesn't just affect his life, but the lives of everyone around him. It has affected mine in a profound and immeasurable way. It is hard for me to explain what I've felt and gone through in the past year dealing with him, and in spite of the pain and hardship it is something I would not trade for the world. I'm hoping that in struggling through writing this story, in applying real life situations to my fiction, I can better understand my situation and myself. I do not know how this story will end; I don't know where life is going from one day to the next. I do not know his mind; it seems even he does not know that. But the more I learn and experience and feel, the more I will struggle to put to words here in a more objective light.
MISSION LOG: AC 195
OPERATION: METEOR
OPERATIVE: 01
OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATE ALL LIABILITIES
LAST KNOWN COORDINATES: (X-1783, 2Y-78)
ATTACHED FILES: COLONY_NEWS/TODAY/THREAT
BARGE_SCHEMATICS
IDENT_90662
NOTES: USE ALL NECESSARY FORCE. RESCUE STRONGLY DISCOURAGED. CAPTURE WILL JEOPRODIZE FURTHER OPS. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO RETRIEVE -OTHER- CARGO...
I'm worth... more... I... I. I'm. wor. th. more th. an. this.
Red. It's a deep red... little specks of it covering... splattering... against a pale cream. So pale. It's been so long. Almost like... like freckles. Like... like... oh, god... not now, not here. Anyone but her, please... anyone but her... I can't... I can't cry now. Not now not here...
God? Can't you hear me? Don't you listen?... please... not her... please... not me... god?
What god? There's no one to listen. No one hears... no one... no one cares. If there was a god... then why her? Why did he take her? Why did he take her from me? She gave her life to god... to her god. Some good it did her in the end. Where is she now? With god? Where is god? Where is her god now?... where's mine?
All there is is death... it... it keeps coming... it never stops. It's still chasing me... still... why hasn't it caught me. Damnit! Why... why don't I just die... let me die already...
Cat and mouse... it's cat and mouse. I can't die yet... he hasn't had all his kicks in... his goddamn kicks... it's a joke. A cruel joke. Is this funny? ... I hope you're laughing... I hope ... it's hilarious... fucking hilarious. Cause it doesn't stop. The tears. They... damnit... I can't cry now. Not now. I can't... I can't give them the satisfaction. It's not because of you, you bastards... It's not... you...
... air... I need air. Gasping again... another sharp... sharp pain. Damn steel-toed boots... damn them. Go to hell... choking... on crimson...
It's like... like... the wine... same color... it's like the offertory. Horrible taste too... never liked it... never... wouldn't touch it. Can't touch a god. Can't...
Then why could I touch her?
Her smile... she was young too. She had a chance... a life... her smile, the light blonde hair and freckles, her eyes... that god damn light in her eyes... why did she have to believe in me. Why did she have to care... if only she didn't care. If only I'd done something. I could have done something... I could have... I could have saved her... I could have saved her from them.
Cruel laughter... just like the rest of them... just like all of them. Fuck OZ. Fuck them all... I'll take you all to hell with me... all of you... all of you who did this to me... to her.
...
they... they're gone? They're gone. I'm alone again. Always alone. I prefer their company... to this... So alone. Is this it god? Is this what's funny? When I want someone... anyone... even them? Even the people that killed her? That killed me? Why don't you let me die... please, just let me die. Hell must be better than this... just let me go...
Clatter against the metallic walls and flooring; everything echoes inside of a ship, regardless. It was soft, he had to strain to hear it. And the headache... it throbbed against his temples, desperately trying to break free of the dam and spill out into the room, onto the floor like the rest of his blood. It echoed in his mind, over and over and over again, for ceaseless hours, or so he assumed. The only refuge was sleep, and it eluded him, retreating from the agony of his present condition for a more suitable environment. Perhaps he was hearing things. Yes, that was it; this was all in his head. The pain, the soft footsteps just outside the door, the gentle, scratchy collapse of garments, bodies hitting the floor, this entire cell. It was all in his head, he related to himself again and again, everything fading from his conscious for the second time that day, at least, he thought it was the same day. If he could just open his eyes, it'd all be back to normal. If he opened his eyes, he'd be back in the hellhole safe house, wrapped up in the thin cotton sheets and just waking from a nightmare, this nightmare. If he just opened his eyes...
Haze obstructed the view. Blinding, the white fluorescence startled him slightly before he attempted to force it away. It was normal, he thought, to wake up in a thick fog, the fog of indifference and the mask up happiness he lived in since childhood. It was almost the hypothetical tunnel and light scenario, if only he'd believed in it. That, and a shadow stood in the way. As always, something, some sin, blocked the path between him and god. He knew he wasn't dead; he wasn't that lucky. He wasn't fortunate enough to be taken away from all the combat, the death, the suffering, the responsibility. The perpetual drumming against his temples notified him of the fact.
Blinking again, he tried to focus his gaze lower, out of the direct blaze of the lights, making out the soft implications in the doorway, shadows which obscured the brilliance of the outside world; "Damn, they really got me..."
His vision slowly cleared, the waking perceptions leaving him abandoned in reality. What first came into focus was a glinting ring, then gradually, the barrel, the trigger, the hand holding it...
"I'm surprised, Heero..." he croaked, squirming slightly at the discomfort of his speech, "You really turn up in the most unexpected places."
His voice, quickly returning to normal, still wavered as he realized the full severity of the matter. Heero Yuy, the cruel, calculated, and mechanical killer, had his gun pointed straight at him, sighting down the barrel with unwavering determination; he followed his missions to the letter. Perhaps, the death he'd so been longing for moments earlier, his confessions in the deep recesses of his mind that screamed for release... perhaps, he was about to get his wish.
"Fine... I'd much rather be killed by you than let myself and my Gundam be used by them. Go ahead and do it," Duo challenged, holding his head high in a tone of defiance. Heero wouldn't back down from a challenge, not the Heero he knew. Nope, not Heero Yuy. This was it, this was the end. This is what he'd been looking forward to since that fateful day when... Not them again, no. He wouldn't think about them. Finally, he wouldn't bring death to another soul. Shinigami would meet his end here, at the hands of a comrade rather than the enemy. This was how it should be, and yet, he flinched.
Eternity marched on. It must be done, it must. There was not way they would sit this long, vulnerable. So this is what death felt like... like... like... suspense...
A flash of amethyst, slow and expectant, his mouth twisted in a wry smile that easily betrayed his lie. There was the other, revealing itself faster with the cruel realization of relief and skepticism; he wasn't dead, "You really intend to shoot me, don't you?"
"If that's what you really want," the monotonous reply echoed in his mind, driving away the pulsing life force that battered his consciousness unrelentingly for hours now. It all disappeared, the past day, and only the lingering, yet unasked question remained. Was that what he wanted?
The question, which he unknowingly had answered, seemed not to plague his associate. The weapon, redirected, was being reserved for more pressing confrontations. If Heero was going to kill Duo, it seemed more fitting that it not be a mission. Save the bullets for someone who may actually kill me, the soldier thought, at least... right now.
Alarmed at the sudden clatter, Duo jumped at the metallic scraping quickly nearing him, barely able to react and gain composure before he felt the fright became to visible. A gun slid across the floor, grating to a halt right beside him.
"Your right hand works, doesn't it?"
He was joking? This had to be suicide, even without an injured body to drag behind him. Not that he, personally, was so injured that he would be a burden of any sort, Duo footnoted his thoughts, of course not. but it was the principle. Heero was a better tactician than this, for sure. Despite doubts, the danger was well passed; the cocky grin returned to the young American's face as he picked up the weapon, though he couldn't hide the shock, "What about your Gundam?"
Heero shot him the classic sideways look; Duo could never figure out if it was distrust on the part of the fellow pilot, or contempt and disgust, "I left it on earth. It's too obvious in space. It was likely that I'd be caught like you."
Suicide, pure suicide... for the two of them to try to make it out. Then again, if anyone could manage, it was certainly Heero. Duo had been helped off the floor, leaning now against the Gundam pilot. Yeah, if anyone could pull off the impossible, it was the Wing pilot, Duo scoffed. He survived a self-destruct that he had rigged specifically to kill him, to leave not even a shred of his body in tact. Then again, this could just mean he sucked with explosives, Duo mused, though still dubious concerning their odds of getting out alive, "Yeah? Then how do you think you'll get out of here?"
"My purpose was to kill you. I hadn't thought about getting away yet."
Just like him, the mission before anything else, including himself, " If this doesn't work...?"
Heero shot him another look; Duo recoiled. Despite the aloof attitude, Heero was suddenly doubting his actions as well. This was a liability... this kid was a liability. He should be dead right now. They'll both get caught at this rate. Two guards down, but help for them was certainly on the way. Undetected up until now, that wouldn't last longer. Schematics scrolled through his mind; a left now, two more after that, another right... it was a long way to the hangers. Was it too long? He looked at Duo a second time, blood still dripped from a head wound that had begun to crust over. The wounds were bad.
He looked back down the hall again, not willing to see the look in Duo's eyes when he said it. What it was, exactly, escaped him, but that look before, when he had the gun aimed at Duo. ice slid down his back. His finger dead on the trigger, his muscles paralyzed while his mind raced. While his mind was determined to fire, his body refused to react. And now he had to get them both out of here. If he was caught too...
"It's just a matter of shutting two mouths," he muttered, shifting the boy's weight as he attempted to plot an escape. He fingered a detonator nervously. There was some forethought, but not enough for him to call it a plan. A wave of explosion jarred the base's foundation, setting off the alarms he'd been expecting for some time now. Swarms flooded the areas hit in an attempt to control raging fires and save vital assets; this would keep the hive busy for the time being.
Duo scoffed, sure he didn't have a plan to escape, "For a quiet guy, you're putting on quite a show," he jested. That ruled out the idea that Heero was inept with explosives.
I don't, in any way, own Gundam Wing or the characters from the show. Additional characters and this story, however, are of my own invention.
Note: This story is 2 things, an exercise in writing and a personal form of catharsis. Everything written here is, in some way, based on my experience in the past year. It is the story of a friend's struggle with Bi-Polar Disorder. It doesn't just affect his life, but the lives of everyone around him. It has affected mine in a profound and immeasurable way. It is hard for me to explain what I've felt and gone through in the past year dealing with him, and in spite of the pain and hardship it is something I would not trade for the world. I'm hoping that in struggling through writing this story, in applying real life situations to my fiction, I can better understand my situation and myself. I do not know how this story will end; I don't know where life is going from one day to the next. I do not know his mind; it seems even he does not know that. But the more I learn and experience and feel, the more I will struggle to put to words here in a more objective light.
MISSION LOG: AC 195
OPERATION: METEOR
OPERATIVE: 01
OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATE ALL LIABILITIES
LAST KNOWN COORDINATES: (X-1783, 2Y-78)
ATTACHED FILES: COLONY_NEWS/TODAY/THREAT
BARGE_SCHEMATICS
IDENT_90662
NOTES: USE ALL NECESSARY FORCE. RESCUE STRONGLY DISCOURAGED. CAPTURE WILL JEOPRODIZE FURTHER OPS. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO RETRIEVE -OTHER- CARGO...
I'm worth... more... I... I. I'm. wor. th. more th. an. this.
Red. It's a deep red... little specks of it covering... splattering... against a pale cream. So pale. It's been so long. Almost like... like freckles. Like... like... oh, god... not now, not here. Anyone but her, please... anyone but her... I can't... I can't cry now. Not now not here...
God? Can't you hear me? Don't you listen?... please... not her... please... not me... god?
What god? There's no one to listen. No one hears... no one... no one cares. If there was a god... then why her? Why did he take her? Why did he take her from me? She gave her life to god... to her god. Some good it did her in the end. Where is she now? With god? Where is god? Where is her god now?... where's mine?
All there is is death... it... it keeps coming... it never stops. It's still chasing me... still... why hasn't it caught me. Damnit! Why... why don't I just die... let me die already...
Cat and mouse... it's cat and mouse. I can't die yet... he hasn't had all his kicks in... his goddamn kicks... it's a joke. A cruel joke. Is this funny? ... I hope you're laughing... I hope ... it's hilarious... fucking hilarious. Cause it doesn't stop. The tears. They... damnit... I can't cry now. Not now. I can't... I can't give them the satisfaction. It's not because of you, you bastards... It's not... you...
... air... I need air. Gasping again... another sharp... sharp pain. Damn steel-toed boots... damn them. Go to hell... choking... on crimson...
It's like... like... the wine... same color... it's like the offertory. Horrible taste too... never liked it... never... wouldn't touch it. Can't touch a god. Can't...
Then why could I touch her?
Her smile... she was young too. She had a chance... a life... her smile, the light blonde hair and freckles, her eyes... that god damn light in her eyes... why did she have to believe in me. Why did she have to care... if only she didn't care. If only I'd done something. I could have done something... I could have... I could have saved her... I could have saved her from them.
Cruel laughter... just like the rest of them... just like all of them. Fuck OZ. Fuck them all... I'll take you all to hell with me... all of you... all of you who did this to me... to her.
...
they... they're gone? They're gone. I'm alone again. Always alone. I prefer their company... to this... So alone. Is this it god? Is this what's funny? When I want someone... anyone... even them? Even the people that killed her? That killed me? Why don't you let me die... please, just let me die. Hell must be better than this... just let me go...
Clatter against the metallic walls and flooring; everything echoes inside of a ship, regardless. It was soft, he had to strain to hear it. And the headache... it throbbed against his temples, desperately trying to break free of the dam and spill out into the room, onto the floor like the rest of his blood. It echoed in his mind, over and over and over again, for ceaseless hours, or so he assumed. The only refuge was sleep, and it eluded him, retreating from the agony of his present condition for a more suitable environment. Perhaps he was hearing things. Yes, that was it; this was all in his head. The pain, the soft footsteps just outside the door, the gentle, scratchy collapse of garments, bodies hitting the floor, this entire cell. It was all in his head, he related to himself again and again, everything fading from his conscious for the second time that day, at least, he thought it was the same day. If he could just open his eyes, it'd all be back to normal. If he opened his eyes, he'd be back in the hellhole safe house, wrapped up in the thin cotton sheets and just waking from a nightmare, this nightmare. If he just opened his eyes...
Haze obstructed the view. Blinding, the white fluorescence startled him slightly before he attempted to force it away. It was normal, he thought, to wake up in a thick fog, the fog of indifference and the mask up happiness he lived in since childhood. It was almost the hypothetical tunnel and light scenario, if only he'd believed in it. That, and a shadow stood in the way. As always, something, some sin, blocked the path between him and god. He knew he wasn't dead; he wasn't that lucky. He wasn't fortunate enough to be taken away from all the combat, the death, the suffering, the responsibility. The perpetual drumming against his temples notified him of the fact.
Blinking again, he tried to focus his gaze lower, out of the direct blaze of the lights, making out the soft implications in the doorway, shadows which obscured the brilliance of the outside world; "Damn, they really got me..."
His vision slowly cleared, the waking perceptions leaving him abandoned in reality. What first came into focus was a glinting ring, then gradually, the barrel, the trigger, the hand holding it...
"I'm surprised, Heero..." he croaked, squirming slightly at the discomfort of his speech, "You really turn up in the most unexpected places."
His voice, quickly returning to normal, still wavered as he realized the full severity of the matter. Heero Yuy, the cruel, calculated, and mechanical killer, had his gun pointed straight at him, sighting down the barrel with unwavering determination; he followed his missions to the letter. Perhaps, the death he'd so been longing for moments earlier, his confessions in the deep recesses of his mind that screamed for release... perhaps, he was about to get his wish.
"Fine... I'd much rather be killed by you than let myself and my Gundam be used by them. Go ahead and do it," Duo challenged, holding his head high in a tone of defiance. Heero wouldn't back down from a challenge, not the Heero he knew. Nope, not Heero Yuy. This was it, this was the end. This is what he'd been looking forward to since that fateful day when... Not them again, no. He wouldn't think about them. Finally, he wouldn't bring death to another soul. Shinigami would meet his end here, at the hands of a comrade rather than the enemy. This was how it should be, and yet, he flinched.
Eternity marched on. It must be done, it must. There was not way they would sit this long, vulnerable. So this is what death felt like... like... like... suspense...
A flash of amethyst, slow and expectant, his mouth twisted in a wry smile that easily betrayed his lie. There was the other, revealing itself faster with the cruel realization of relief and skepticism; he wasn't dead, "You really intend to shoot me, don't you?"
"If that's what you really want," the monotonous reply echoed in his mind, driving away the pulsing life force that battered his consciousness unrelentingly for hours now. It all disappeared, the past day, and only the lingering, yet unasked question remained. Was that what he wanted?
The question, which he unknowingly had answered, seemed not to plague his associate. The weapon, redirected, was being reserved for more pressing confrontations. If Heero was going to kill Duo, it seemed more fitting that it not be a mission. Save the bullets for someone who may actually kill me, the soldier thought, at least... right now.
Alarmed at the sudden clatter, Duo jumped at the metallic scraping quickly nearing him, barely able to react and gain composure before he felt the fright became to visible. A gun slid across the floor, grating to a halt right beside him.
"Your right hand works, doesn't it?"
He was joking? This had to be suicide, even without an injured body to drag behind him. Not that he, personally, was so injured that he would be a burden of any sort, Duo footnoted his thoughts, of course not. but it was the principle. Heero was a better tactician than this, for sure. Despite doubts, the danger was well passed; the cocky grin returned to the young American's face as he picked up the weapon, though he couldn't hide the shock, "What about your Gundam?"
Heero shot him the classic sideways look; Duo could never figure out if it was distrust on the part of the fellow pilot, or contempt and disgust, "I left it on earth. It's too obvious in space. It was likely that I'd be caught like you."
Suicide, pure suicide... for the two of them to try to make it out. Then again, if anyone could manage, it was certainly Heero. Duo had been helped off the floor, leaning now against the Gundam pilot. Yeah, if anyone could pull off the impossible, it was the Wing pilot, Duo scoffed. He survived a self-destruct that he had rigged specifically to kill him, to leave not even a shred of his body in tact. Then again, this could just mean he sucked with explosives, Duo mused, though still dubious concerning their odds of getting out alive, "Yeah? Then how do you think you'll get out of here?"
"My purpose was to kill you. I hadn't thought about getting away yet."
Just like him, the mission before anything else, including himself, " If this doesn't work...?"
Heero shot him another look; Duo recoiled. Despite the aloof attitude, Heero was suddenly doubting his actions as well. This was a liability... this kid was a liability. He should be dead right now. They'll both get caught at this rate. Two guards down, but help for them was certainly on the way. Undetected up until now, that wouldn't last longer. Schematics scrolled through his mind; a left now, two more after that, another right... it was a long way to the hangers. Was it too long? He looked at Duo a second time, blood still dripped from a head wound that had begun to crust over. The wounds were bad.
He looked back down the hall again, not willing to see the look in Duo's eyes when he said it. What it was, exactly, escaped him, but that look before, when he had the gun aimed at Duo. ice slid down his back. His finger dead on the trigger, his muscles paralyzed while his mind raced. While his mind was determined to fire, his body refused to react. And now he had to get them both out of here. If he was caught too...
"It's just a matter of shutting two mouths," he muttered, shifting the boy's weight as he attempted to plot an escape. He fingered a detonator nervously. There was some forethought, but not enough for him to call it a plan. A wave of explosion jarred the base's foundation, setting off the alarms he'd been expecting for some time now. Swarms flooded the areas hit in an attempt to control raging fires and save vital assets; this would keep the hive busy for the time being.
Duo scoffed, sure he didn't have a plan to escape, "For a quiet guy, you're putting on quite a show," he jested. That ruled out the idea that Heero was inept with explosives.