As Heero lay there, half floating in the searing water, he thought
about what his life meant to other people.
To them he was a hero, the gundam pilot who had won the war and brought peace to the universe. In fact, he had not brought peace at all.. Without certain people, nothing but destruction would have ensued. Him and the other gundam pilots had been a team. They had all brought peace, together. Without them, he would have died just like everyone he himself had killed.
To them, all of them, he was a killer. He murdered on sight when he knew a person was going to be a problem, or when the death of that person was included in his mission. When someone looked at him, they saw nothing. There was no emotion, no real feelings. What many mistook as a lack of emotion was really mind numbing agony, something that was impossible for him to express. Sometimes, when he was alone, he would see images of the lives he had taken. He would hear their bitter curses in his mind, would listen to their pleas just before he pulled the trigger.
Heero rarely cried, though, and never once had he let anyone see. He held himself back from doing so, not because he thought it was weak, but because he didn't feel he should be able to let go of anything. To cry would be to release some of his internal torment. He couldn't allow himself such a privilege, even if he was human himself. Or so it seemed.
Despite his hidden emotion, Heero couldn't think of himself as human. He couldn't think of himself as a man. When he thought of who he was, he received images of scrap metal and machine parts. He saw electrical wires and a thrumming engine. He thought of himself as a machine, now broken down and useless. Perhaps that is what Dr. J had wanted all along.
To prevent Heero further pain after the war, he was unconsciously programmed to self destruct. The very idea of this made Heero grind his teeth in rage, and the hairs along the back of his neck rose.
His life had been permanently ruined because of Dr. J. He had been tirelessly, relentlessly trained. As he was trained, so his emotions, one by one, were ultimately sacrificed.
Done for the good of humanity, Dr. J had told him. Done because he was their last hope.
A tear fell across Heero's cheek, and he removed the knife from his flesh. He watched the blood as it welled eagerly from his skin, leaping across it and spreading across his arm. It was alive as it pumped from his severed veins, and spilled down into the heated water he was immersed in.
The door burst open, and, feeling a wave of nausea, Heero jerked his head up.
Duo and Wufei stood in the doorway, their jaws slack, their eyes wide. Had it been a different situation, Heero might have smiled.
"Heero?" Duo said quietly, his voice trembling.
"I told you to leave me alone," said Heero,
"Well, I can't now, buddy. Get out of that water, okay? Come here."
Although Duo's voice was soothing, Heero wasn't tempted. He had given himself a mission, his last to his knowledge, and he must not fail it. He had never failed a mission in his life, save for one.
Relena had brought emotion into his life. She had, whether she had meant to or not, given a piece of him back, given him a reason to keep fighting. Although he hated her, he would always be a tiny bit grateful for what she had offered.
Something in his mind clicked. He had never finished that mission. He hadn't even come close. Blinking, Heero used his big toe to unplug the tub, and the water began to swirl down the drain.
This is why I didn't use the gun, Heero thought. That is reserved for someone else.
Duo and Wufei glanced at each other, and both of them moved forward.
Clapping a strong hand to his wound, Heero rise from the tub, his body red and blistered, from the top of his neck, right down to his toes. Steam drifted from his skin, enveloping everything in a blanket of heat. Wufei quickly turned on the bathroom fan. Duo moved to Heero and handed him a hand towel. Understanding, Heero took it and wrapped it securely around his wrist to help stop the bleeding.
Heero Yuy wasn't finished yet. He still had one last mission to take care of.
To them he was a hero, the gundam pilot who had won the war and brought peace to the universe. In fact, he had not brought peace at all.. Without certain people, nothing but destruction would have ensued. Him and the other gundam pilots had been a team. They had all brought peace, together. Without them, he would have died just like everyone he himself had killed.
To them, all of them, he was a killer. He murdered on sight when he knew a person was going to be a problem, or when the death of that person was included in his mission. When someone looked at him, they saw nothing. There was no emotion, no real feelings. What many mistook as a lack of emotion was really mind numbing agony, something that was impossible for him to express. Sometimes, when he was alone, he would see images of the lives he had taken. He would hear their bitter curses in his mind, would listen to their pleas just before he pulled the trigger.
Heero rarely cried, though, and never once had he let anyone see. He held himself back from doing so, not because he thought it was weak, but because he didn't feel he should be able to let go of anything. To cry would be to release some of his internal torment. He couldn't allow himself such a privilege, even if he was human himself. Or so it seemed.
Despite his hidden emotion, Heero couldn't think of himself as human. He couldn't think of himself as a man. When he thought of who he was, he received images of scrap metal and machine parts. He saw electrical wires and a thrumming engine. He thought of himself as a machine, now broken down and useless. Perhaps that is what Dr. J had wanted all along.
To prevent Heero further pain after the war, he was unconsciously programmed to self destruct. The very idea of this made Heero grind his teeth in rage, and the hairs along the back of his neck rose.
His life had been permanently ruined because of Dr. J. He had been tirelessly, relentlessly trained. As he was trained, so his emotions, one by one, were ultimately sacrificed.
Done for the good of humanity, Dr. J had told him. Done because he was their last hope.
A tear fell across Heero's cheek, and he removed the knife from his flesh. He watched the blood as it welled eagerly from his skin, leaping across it and spreading across his arm. It was alive as it pumped from his severed veins, and spilled down into the heated water he was immersed in.
The door burst open, and, feeling a wave of nausea, Heero jerked his head up.
Duo and Wufei stood in the doorway, their jaws slack, their eyes wide. Had it been a different situation, Heero might have smiled.
"Heero?" Duo said quietly, his voice trembling.
"I told you to leave me alone," said Heero,
"Well, I can't now, buddy. Get out of that water, okay? Come here."
Although Duo's voice was soothing, Heero wasn't tempted. He had given himself a mission, his last to his knowledge, and he must not fail it. He had never failed a mission in his life, save for one.
Relena had brought emotion into his life. She had, whether she had meant to or not, given a piece of him back, given him a reason to keep fighting. Although he hated her, he would always be a tiny bit grateful for what she had offered.
Something in his mind clicked. He had never finished that mission. He hadn't even come close. Blinking, Heero used his big toe to unplug the tub, and the water began to swirl down the drain.
This is why I didn't use the gun, Heero thought. That is reserved for someone else.
Duo and Wufei glanced at each other, and both of them moved forward.
Clapping a strong hand to his wound, Heero rise from the tub, his body red and blistered, from the top of his neck, right down to his toes. Steam drifted from his skin, enveloping everything in a blanket of heat. Wufei quickly turned on the bathroom fan. Duo moved to Heero and handed him a hand towel. Understanding, Heero took it and wrapped it securely around his wrist to help stop the bleeding.
Heero Yuy wasn't finished yet. He still had one last mission to take care of.