Lost Hope

By: NightStalker666

AN: Okay, this is a tad bit depressing...but, yet again, nothing really depresses me, so, I wouldn't really depend on my opinion. I dunno. My friend read this and looked up, staring at me, and called me a "Narcissistic sociopath who has serious sadistic problems." lol. I really do not know what she's implying...*thinks*, but, oh, well. This is about Duo, and his...um...feelings? towards what happened to him and...oh, for Cripes sake, just please read this and put me out of my miseries.

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The night air mingled with the scent of lavender did nothing to soothe the young Gundam Pilot from his reverie. Nothing could break Duo from his brooding; he had discovered he had fallen in love with the pilot, Heero. From the sense of it, when he had first noted that he was in love, a feeling that he had been in love for a long time came with it. A corner of his mind wondered when he had exactly fallen in love...but that was not the problem. The problem was, Heero would not acknowledge him. Stupidly, one drunken night, Duo had said that he was in love with him, and that one night, that one night only they had made love. Passionately.

While he had been in an ecstasy drunken sleep, Heero had slipped off into the night, disgusted with him for doing the deed. He was not gay, or that was what Heero insisted to him whenever he had talked to him, but he knew better. Heero was not gay. Not from the way Heero had caressed his body, treasuring it, and then marking him in a fit of passionate rage. No, indeed, Heero Yuy was not gay, his soul was a corkscrew, filled with the unknowns of his own mind.

Nonetheless, that one special night had passed as quickly as a baby bird taking its first flight from its nest. Heero would not speak of the night, and Duo would not push it. Lonely nights passed, day after day, month after month...

A mission had been assigned to them, find a disk, bring it back, blah, blah, blah. A typical mission, which should've had a typical ending, but it had gone wrong. Everything had gone terribly wrong. A broken thread in an intricate weaving had been spotted. They had been betrayed to the enemy. It was a slaughter. Five had gone in there, and three had left. A pit of hell.

They had been waiting for them. Those bastards...They had humored them as they slunk around like fools, and when they had met up at the room where the disks were being held, they had walked in and...

"Trowa!" Quatre cried out in anguish, his lips moving silently as he watched his lover pelted by dum-dum bullets. [1] With Trowa's blood splattered across his face-like war paint-and his clothes; he had fired back with a vengeance, an eerie light sparking in the suddenly icy blue depths.

Meanwhile, the others struggled to control the firing, ducking behind desks, anything in which it could offer some sort of shield. But it was to no avail. Another death. Quatre, trying to single out the one man who had killed Trowa, stepped right into the direct line of fire, and had literally been blown away. Shot so many times, he fell back in slow motion, until collapsing across the desk, his no longer recognizable face staring directly at Duo. He had bitten off a scream as he watched in horror as the blood flowed freely from the edges of the desk in generous crimson rivers.

There had been no time to stall. They kept fighting, ignoring Quatre and Trowa's dead body, and other enemies strewn across, some still writhing in agony. They had met up with the head honcho, and Duo froze, his veins an icy tentacled highway across his body.

"Denal," he whispered.

Duo clasped his fists into tight balls of fury, agony, and pain. How could it have been Denal? How? Still, he asked himself this, no matter what, he could not forget the malice that had changed his former friend's face. The fried who had accompanied him to the orphanage, and became a common street rat with him, finally landing in the hands of the loving church. They had done everything together, but had become separated during the destruction of his home.

He had stood before him, his mouth raised in a frosty greeting...

"Nicely done, Duo...I must say, I never could've planned this better," Denal said coolly, lifting a hand to cease the gunfire.

"What...What are you talking about?!" Duo asked, his eyes wide, his gun still raised. He ignored Heero and Wufei's sharp looks, and blinked in confusion.

"Why, Duo-kun!" Denal exclaimed, a chilly laugh escaping his lips. "You planned this attack yourself, remember? You now work for me, Duo-kun, don't you remember? That night, when you slept with me, you bonded yourself to me."

"Lies...all lies!" Duo screamed.

"No, Duo, no," Denal said none too gently. "You slept with me to erase your lover's rejection from you skin! And in your throes of passion, you agreed to help me defeat the Gundam Pilots!"

"No!" Duo screamed. "No! You lie! Damn you, you lie!" he gasped, a shuddering sob escaping from his body. "No," he moaned, falling to his knees, shaking his head. "No."

"Yes, Duo, yes!" he hissed. "At last you remember, why else would you be in such pain?" Denal shook his head in mocked sympathy. "Poor Duo," he clucked. "Well, on to more cheerful news. We have only three more to go, Duo," he announced.

"What?" he asked, breaking momentarily from his denial.

"Yes, three more to go. You agreed to help me defeat the Gundam Pilot's, remember? That includes you," Denal said delightedly. "Now, who should go first?" he asked himself, pretending to think. Pointing to each Heero, Wufei, then Duo, he said, "Eenie, meenie, minie...mo!" he shouted, and brandished his gun in blinding quickness, and shot Wufei in the chest, a crimson stain slowly blooming across his white shirt. His face a mask of surprise as he staggered back, slamming against the wall, and slowly sliding down, leaving a red streak in its wake.

"No!" Duo shouted. "Why are you doing this, Denal? Why?"

"Because, Duo-kun, I just want to. I want to," he said simply.

The answer had been said so damn simply, and he had given him a look as if the answer should've been so plain. It hadn't. Denal, sweet, sweet Denal had become bitter, vengeful, and cruel. As he had moved to shook Heero, Duo had acted out, and was already moving, despite the gunshot from Denal's startled fingers exploding into his thigh, and shoved his small dagger into Denal's gut.

"I'm sorry," he had whispered, and tears filled his eyes as Denal's blue- gray ones filled.

"Thank you," he had answered, and collapsed on top of Duo, dead.

They had picked up Wufei, who was still alive, and grabbed the disks, saying a final prayer to Trowa and Quatre, and left the warehouse, their hearts heavy. Duo awaited the confrontation as Wufei became better, and Heero avoided him as if his very life depended on it...perhaps it had. The confrontation came, and it came swiftly. In the blink of an eye he had been stripped as his title to be Gundam Pilot 02, lost all right to acknowledge them, and no longer claimed any property of the safe houses or his beloved Gundam. What had hurt the most was Heero's harsh, biting words. His accusations, his threats, his rants...even honorable Wufei had been shocked.

Duo laughed bitterly. As easily as that, he had been framed and convicted falsely. He still could not believe that Heero could think that he would do such a thing. He loved the Gundam Pilots...he loved Heero. He could never bring himself to hurt him...but he had. He had. A sob escaped.

"Did you sleep with him?"

Duo looked up, startled. "What?" he asked, sitting up in his bed quickly. It was the first time Heero had spoken to him in weeks.

"Did you really sleep with him?"

"...Yes," he answered, looking down at his quilt. He fingered a ragged piece of string, twirling it around his finger.

"Did you betray us?"

"No!" Duo said, looking up, his eyes wide. "I didn't, I swear it, Heero."

"Then why did you sleep with him?"

"..." When Duo had looked up after a while, Heero had disappeared as quietly as he had entered.

Angrily swiping a tear away from his eyes, he scowled at the beautiful city light landscape, mocking him. There was no point in tears anymore. No, he would shed no more tears, but even as he vowed it, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Somehow, after a while, Wufei and Heero had discovered that he had, in fact, not given them away, and sent him a letter, apologizing. Duo had cried and laughed, his throat harsh with bitterness. A simple apology, nothing else, and an offer to join the Gundam Pilots again. Well, it was too late. ...Much too late. A week or so ago, he had spotted Heero and...his wife merrily walking, arm-in-arm, laughing as their...kid walked underfoot, making his parents laugh. That was the final moment. His soul had wafted away, and he was now an apparition, gliding in the dark with the memories to haunt him for centuries to come.

Then, a couple days ago, he had been captured. He had been employed to be a con artist, which he was skilled at, thanks to his Gundam skills, but this time, he had been stupid. He had been caught. It was all Heero's fault...it was his goddamn fault. His perfect family kept flashing in his mind, a perfect family for the perfect soldier. Dammit...

Now, he was stuck in a cage, forever forsaken in this tiny box, in a tiny island off of another island, a bridge the only means of escape. A simple swinging bridge. But lose the bridge, and plunge into the sharp, rocky, jutting black rocks of the island, and into the wrath of the sea. He had given up anyways. What was the point of living further? It was over now...he was an apparition...

The frantic call of an alarm jerked him from his thoughts, and he looked out the slit of a window, straining to see. There seemed to be an attack...he shrugged. Who cares? He wasn't going anywhere, but as he thought those words, the door swung open, and a mysterious hand beckoned him out. Frowning, curiosity still piqued, he stood, and walked out of the door, and looked both ways down the gloomy hall. He noticed that all the other prisoners were gone.

Interesting...

He drifted farther down the hall, and up the spiraling steps, cobblestones mildewed, and stairs slippery with invisible dampness. Out on the small island, he noticed that everyone was occupied with the good fight of freedom, which made Duo scoff. Who would escape this hellhole?...who would want to? Prisoners and wardens shouldered past him, oblivious to him, and struggled to regain order. Nonetheless, chaos erupted. Wardens were falling left and right from sword wounds and gun wounds. Nobody owned swords...and the guns only belonged to the wardens, and even those were rare.

Where was the problem coming from?

Duo's attention heightened as he heard sword wounds. Swords...only Wufei...no, it was impossible. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, prisoners surged against him armed with sticks, and fallen spears, ready to attack him. What was this? What had he done?

"You're a traitor!" one of the men snarled.

Duo began to laugh, and then howled with hysteria. "Traitor, again! You're right! I'm a traitor! A fucking traitor! You hear me? I don't even know what I did, but I'm a traitor!"

Some of the prisoners hesitated, but the crazed ones rushed forward, and his feet edged near the cliff where it fell into a steep drop into rocks and white frothed waters. He teetered on the edge, but quickly regained balance by grabbing the sleeve of a prisoner. They were distracted, and Duo wondered whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Walking further into the fight, a flash of forest green caught the corner of his eyes, and his heart stopped by the familiarity. "No," he gasped. He watched as the man fell to his knees, and Duo's eyes widened as he screamed, "Heero!" the wind disappearing his shout from him.

Heero slowly rose, and despite if he heard or not, their eyes met. "Duo!" Heero screamed. "Come here!" he ordered.

Duo slowly shook his head. "No," he whispered, and turned on his feet, and began to run towards the edge, shouldering pass the fighting men. As he neared the edge, he leaped, the last word he heard was Heero screaming his name, voice wracked with agony. He smiled as the rocks rapidly approached his vision. "Vengeance is mine..."

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Thank you for reading...man, I have a cold. Completely random, but that's okay. I realize that there might be some grammatical errors, and I did correct them, but then my computer freaked out on me, and erased the entire thing, so as you can see, in my fit of rage, I am now exhausted and unwilling to repeat this torturous process again. Please review, tell me what you think. Flames are welcome, I really do not care, just review the goddamn thing...even if its just to say, "You suck,"

"What the hell?!"

"..."

"Hi..."

or whatever. thank you, once more. I will say in advance, Thanks Raven's Light! You're the best! Love ya! *hugs*

P.S. Everyone, read her stories...I have attack monkey's. They're verra vicious...*cackles* ...seriously though, read her stories...and go to her website! It's on my um...page thingy. I dunno, click on my name. I just realized I'm just taking up unnecessary space...ABORT!! ABORT!!!

Oh, yeah, right. (1) Dum-dum bullets: their bullets that are cut at the tips in a criss cross fashion. They're now illegal in the US, unless you know somebody...*smile* What? It isn't moi! *hums, looks around* Anywho, even at a fifteen feet distance, and you get shot in the leg, it'll be the equivalent of belting a stick of dynamite to your leg. Good times, ne? Its kind of like grapeshot, and for those who are COMPLETELY clueless to THAT (verra sad *laughs and points*) Grapeshot is a helluva lot of pellets, kind of like BB pellets, and fired out of a barrel. Used in King Louis time in wars between Scotland and England, and I believe in the Revolutionary War as well... that's how my great-times infinity uncle lost his leg...I heard that he became verra bitter, whether from the loss of his leg, or the loss of his mind...who knows?

I'm done rambling. Thank you once more. Review or flame!!!