Note-Okay this is from Heero's POV (it never says but its easy to work out anyway) mostly he's thinking too much, and is pain. It's a song fic to the song Tourniquet by Evanescence, going in to the mind of 01, so very confusing stuff. lol

Warning- Angst, some shounen ai 1+2, depressiveness kind of, oh but as always I make a happy ending so yeah, no worries about that other stuff because its okay in the end. Oh yeah very minor fluff stuff at the end. Also there's lots of confusion and rambling thoughts.

Disclaimer- I don't own the song, its owned by Evanescence. Also I don't own Gundam Wing, or any of its characters, this is merely a fic written about them for entertainment, no profit earned from doing so.

Author- Akumu Senshi

Title-Tourniquet

Everyone thought I was invincible, they thought I'd go on, killing, unfeeling, as if my soul was empty. Do they not realise I feel just what normal people feel? I feel remorse, and pain for those I killed, inside I cry with regret. I wish I'd not killed all those I had. All those innocent, especially those whom were by accident, those civilians, normal people who died due to MY error, when that mobile suit fell.

Do they not realise it haunts my dreams? That I wake up screaming as I see it all again and again? Maybe they'll know now they were wrong, now I lie here, bleeding, bleeding out all the pain. Will I die? Should I ask for another chance? Should I scream out all the pain I feel, inside and out? Or is it too late? Am I too broken to be fixed? However much I ignored it, it was still there, the pain of guilt that burns inside it worsens as each day goes by, with each mission I attend, with each time I kill. Is it my time now?

#I tried to kill the pain

But only brought more

I lay dying

And I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal

I'm dying praying bleeding and screaming

Am I too lost to be saved?

Am I too lost?#

I can't move, all I can do is stare up at the sky, it is a murky violet, the smoke from the destroyed mobile suits seeming like clouds. I can hear all around me, the fighting the screaming the dying.

I can feel the heat from my smouldering Gundam beside me, the giant monster it is still smoking. Like a beast, been slain, still warm from previous conflict it was in, which it lost.

The noise from the other suits is fading; I think they are leaving, going to find a new battlefield, one that is not littered with the fallen soldiers. Ones like me whose chance of waking up again is very slim.

Though I feel emotions, I feel guilt, pain, sorrow, I do not fear my death, and I do not fear the pain of death. I've met death, he's not so bad, but then again he's the only one who claims that is what he is, I'm sure he's wrong, I think he's an angel, fallen to earth by accident. Or was it on purpose? To find his true self and help me, as a guardian angel.

The blood still pools around me, I feel faint, light-headed and can no longer keep my eyes open. As I close them I can no longer hear the fading battle, they must now have gone. I lie and wait, waiting for what? A decision? Death? Maybe I should rephrase that, my death. Though do I mean death as in him, shinigami, or do I mean death, as in when I leave this place? Perhaps both, perhaps he really is an angel who shall lead me to the next place, wherever that is.

I can hear voices, has he come? I recognise those voices, they are calling me, calling me. Are they calling me, to follow them to the next place, or are they the only thing left here, calling me to stay, to live, not to give up and let go? I cant open my eyes, I cant move, but I can still feel, the pain, my blood stained tank top, the dirt beneath my hand, and I can hear them. I feel a hand brush through my hair, comforting, then an arm around me, then nothing.

#My god my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

My god my tourniquet

Return to me salvation#

I open my eyes, to see white, a white ceiling. Am I dead? Have I woken to find myself in heaven, if so how did I get in? Its then I realise I am in a bed, I feel the cotton sheet beneath my hands, and I hear a single machine beside the bed, I think it's a hospital. They really should not paint hospitals white, it really is a shock for those who wake in them, all the white that is.

What happened to me? I was supposed to die- they came for me. What was the point, all they'll do is put me back on the battlefield; I don't want to be that person again, alone again. I want to be the person I was suppose to be, so long ago before I was taken, taken and broken, remade in to who I am today, a killer. Can I even remember who I was before, before the madness, or how to return to be that same person again after so long?

#Do you remember me

Lost for so long

Will you be on the other side

Or will you forget me

I'm dying praying, bleeding and screaming

Am I too lost to be saved

Am I too lost#

I move my head a little, looking down, and can see that bandages cover my body. Then moving it to the side I can see out a window, I view I can recognise. I am not in a hospital, merely the medical room in one of Quatre's mansion, I should have guessed, seeing as it didn't smell like a hospital, that smell they always have that drives me insane.

Sitting up slowly my muscles are sore, causing me to groan a little. Now I can think a little better, but is that always such a good thing? Now I am slipping back in to my mask, the soldier one I was made in to, the one who can take all physical pain, who ignores the mental pain so it only gets worse, and hurts people, not only physically, in the fighting of the war, those I do not know. But also my friends, the ones who always pick up the pieces left of me when I stop caring and rush in to things with no thoughts for my life, or of those who care about me, and my life. All I do is hurt them, ignore them, worry them, scare them and sometimes abandon them, and run from them. Why do I do these things? Yet I care for them as brothers, and him, god of death, as something other, something more.

#My god my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

My god my tourniquet

Return to me salvation#

I hear the door open, and see a head, seemingly shy, and unsure look round the door and in to the room. That is odd, he who has a braid is never known to be unsure of anything. He looks to the bed, to me, and a grin covers his face, and lights up his eyes, for a moment, then it soften a little, yet is still seen clearly there, even as he speaks. "Do you mind if I come on it?" A give a small nod, for shrugging would cause more pain for me to endure, and he proceeds to enter the room and sit cautiously on the bed. "So how are you feeling?" He asks me. How am I feeling? Mentally or Physically? Mentally I am confused, and scared of becoming perfect solider again, however I have not re-build all my barriers yet, there still is a chance for something different and new, but how is that possible with this war? Physically isn't so bad, sure I hurt a little, but I'll get over it. Maybe I should risk everything on that truthful question, and maybe I too will get some answers.

"Mentally or Physically?" I ask, his eyes widen at my admittance that there could be something more, and that maybe the latter is not as bad as the previous.

"Which is worse?" He asks me in concern, the smile on his face gone, now looking at me in a way I cannot describe as well as I'd like.

"The first."

"Then explain that one to me." Should I be basic, and turn back, back from the fear, fear he will understand me too well, and fear I will scare him? Or should I give in, tell him my pain, let him in, let him understand me, let him help me?

#My wounds cry for the grave

My soul cries for deliverance

Will I be denied Christ

Tourniquet

My suicide#

I have told him my fears, my thoughts, both ones I understand and ones I do not, the pain I feel inside, but now, now it is different. He is sat numbly on my bed, his eyes showing nothing but compassion, as he thinks over all I have told him, and he tries to understand it all, as he tries to understand me. Right now the pain of my inner wounds feels numb, I cannot think about it all properly. It doesn't hurt as much, now I have admitted its existence it is not aching for attention, now it's out in the open it's beginning to heal.

My eyes widen in surprise as frail arms are gently wrapped around my neck, so gentle so as not to cause much more pain to my physical wounds. I do not move, yet neither does he, except the slight shaking I can feel in his limbs, why is he shaking? Is he scared, scared of rejection? Scared of hurting me? Scared what he is doing is wrong?

Perhaps like me, he feels alone, and feels a compassion for me as I feel for him. Should I let go? Should I run? Or should I do as my heart tells me?

Letting my body relax in to his arms I carefully move my arms around his waist, holding him as tightly as I could with out too much pain, resting my head on his chest. I can feel him relax, no longer shaking. I can't feel the pain anymore. Sure the guilt is there, but no longer does it eat at me, causing insanity. "Did you ever feel alone?" I whisper to him.

"Yes. Always, I try to pretend I don't feel that way inside around people, but I still feel it." I nodded, wanting to ask something, but being afraid of how to put it.

"I don't want to be alone again." I said quietly, "Will you stay with me?" He seemed surprised at this.

"I was there all along, only you could not see me past your walls." He smiles slightly, "I will stay with you, always, as long as you stay with me." He agreed and I nodded, closing my eyes in weariness, drained of pain, and of energy. He feels my grip on him loosen and releases me, gently laying me back down. He went to leave, but seeing the look in my half closed eyes had second thoughts, and instead lay down beside me. Taking the opportunity presented to me I curled up beside him. Finally my tourniquet had been removed and replaced with someone to be cared by, and care for. Tomorrow I will show this, and I will become stronger as a person, but for now I can be weak, with my barriers down, for he will protect me.

My life if a very complicated thing, death came and saved me. He is my angel, yet he has his own walls, his own lies, his own mask. Soon it will be my turn. I will save him as he has saved me, once I am strong enough, for us both. We will both live, have blood flowing though us, with no need for a tourniquet.

OWARI

AN-How was that? Okay I think it went a little, um weird near the end, but it's a hard thing, going in to the mind of Heero Yuy and dissecting it to this extent, about this subject. Did I do an OK job of that? I hope so, but with it non-depressing at the end. Well I got another Evanescence song fic in the works (actually, its mostly finished, I think it was done before this but its not typed yet) but hope to do a proper non-song fic soon and any idea's I'd love to hear them. Anyway thanks for reading, Ja ne- Akumu

Btw I looked tourniquet up in the dictionary (after I'd written most of this mind you) and it says it's a devise to stop blood flowing through arteries. Yes lovely ne? But when I thought about it, it made good sense with the fic sorta.