I own nothing. "Dirty Little Secret" was written by Sarah McLachlan.
If I Had the Chance
If I had the chance love
I would not hesitate
To tell you all the things I never said before
Don't tell me it's too late
She moved through time and over the land like a ghost. Many noticed her, but very few gave her more than a passing thought. Perhaps it was her ethereal beauty that made them turn their heads as she walked down the street in a navy trenchcoat to contrast her ivory skin, head bowed, with the rain soaking her hair to a mass of emerald locks that dripped and shined with the illumination of the streetlight. Perhaps it was the dark, foreboding presence she carried with her like a shadow; the angel of death, the grim reaper, the fears of all those who looked upon her. And perhaps, just perhaps, it was what someone could see if they managed to catch one of her scarlet eyes. Sadness.
It was not a sharp, agonized sorrow. It was the dull, thick grief of someone who was lost, searching for something that refused to be found. Mourning for innocence, perhaps, or lost love. Sometimes a child would look up into her eyes and wonder why she was so sad. The boldest of them would ask. But she was like a glacier, exquisitely beautiful and icy cold. Yet like a glacier, light sometimes seemed to be visible beneath her surface. Lights of hope and peace. However, like glacial light, it was merely a reflection of the glow of others around her. Within her, there was nothing but a cold, lonely darkness.
She suspected it was out of fear that so few acknowledged her beyond an initial stare. Perhaps if she'd have been more cynical, more jaded by the world she walked so effortlessly through, she would've mocked them with bitterness. Because in all truth, there was no true reason to fear her. True, she did not age. She did not know why. Her body had been frozen in the prime of her life years and years ago. Or was it months? Weeks? Mere days?
She did not know. Her sense of time had been obliterated quite a while ago.
'Cause I've relied on my illusion
To keep me warm at night
And I've denied in my capacity to love
But I am willing to give up this fight
He leaned against his car, tilted his head back, and stared at the concrete and piping of the parking ramp's ceiling. Letting out a deep breath, he checked his watch. 10:17 PM. Still early. Still plenty of time to drive around aimlessly. But he'd only reached the city that morning. Maybe the best thing to do now would be to go find a place to get drunk. Find a painkiller for the wounds in his soul. Alcohol worked sometimes, but he always wondered what would happen if she happened along and found him unconscious in a gutter. Would she forgive him?
Probably. She was the forgiving type.
Grunting, he slowly circled his Viper before opening the driver's door. Just like every other vehicle he'd ever owned, it was black. But it was a kickass car. That's what others said, at least. The enthusiasts who'd look at the near mint-condition vehicle, then would try to strike up lighthearted conversation with him. Oftentimes, their girlfriends would stare at the darkly handsome man, with his dark brown hair carelessly falling in front of his cerulean eyes. But he never spoke back, never looked back.
He'd once met a drunken middle-aged housewife at a bar. She had talked about how people floated through life wildly, aimlessly. And unless you fastened down to something, you'd float away, over the edge into oblivion. But to fasten yourself securely, you need anchors. People, Ideas, Tasks. Things that would hold you down and hold you back to keep you safe. The more anchors you had, the safer you'd be.
But he'd only ever had one anchor. And that anchor would never hold him down or back.
It would just give him something to hold onto when he did go over the edge.
Been up all night drinking to drown my sorrows down
But nothing seems to help me since you've gone away
I'm so tired of this town
She stared outside at the overcast skies. No rain, just swollen gray and purples clouds. It was as if the sky had fought a battle, lost, had come home horribly bruised, but refused to cry in pain. In self-pity. In anger or sadness or loss or fear.
Just like her.
And yet, she was not emotionless. There had been a time when she had been so vain to think she was immune to it, but she had learned. She too, could feel the pain of a broken heart. She too, could feel love. However, even now, she was bewildered as to how to respond to the well of emotions within her.
Should she lash out her anger at the innocent (well, mostly innocent) people around her? No. She had seen the consequences of that. It was as she had heard someone once say on the street. "Anger leads to Hate, and Hate leads to suffering." And of all things, she did not want to suffer any more than she already was.
Should she lock herself up somewhere with her fear and depression? No. That would lead to madness. Confused as she was, there was strength to be had in knowing she still controlled her life. But if a fog of insanity fell over everything? If it possessed her and imprisoned her within the confines of her soul? She could not bear it to happen.
There was only one emotion powerful enough left to respond to. Love.
She knew it was her love that had spawned the other things within her. Her love for a man that she'd watched suffer and die and disappear, leaving her alone in the world she had never completely understood. It was not just desire for a presence in her bed. If that were all there was to it, she was beautiful enough and tempting enough to find someone else. No, it wasn't sex she wanted. It was the companionship of someone else like her. The presence of another passive demon, another fallen angel. So far, he'd been the only one she'd found.
But above all else, she just wanted him. Wanted his eyes and his voice and his philosophies. Wanted the way his hands would run through her hair, wanted the way he had clung to her for protection, the way he'd said those words just before the last glimmer of life in her world went dark.
"I love you."
Where every tong is wagging
When every back is turned
They're telling secrets that should never be revealed
There's nothing to be gained from this but
Disaster
He was dully aware of another presence. If he hadn't been so drunk on the scent of the desert winds, or so entranced by the claw like rocks clutching at the black sky, he'd have wondered why another person would be as far from civilization as he was. The car was several miles away, parked along the side of the deserted highway. Probably unsafe, but then again so was venturing into the middle of the desert with no water for the searing afternoon heat and no jacket for the frigid moonlit night.
He did not turn, he did not answer when she spoke his name. If he looked at her, he would go blind. If he listened too closely, her sweet musical words would chain him to her all over again. His heart skipped a beat; he could not allow that. There was little he remembered, just the feel of her lips against his hot skin, the pain in his soul, and the desperate longing for the cool darkness of an apartment far away in the city.
But the angel, the warrior of love and goodness and righteousness, would not be ignored.
She spoke his name again, then put her hands on his shoulders. Her voice was silky soft as she whispered in his ear. She apologized for forsaking him, said she did not expect forgiveness. She pleaded for him to return to her, that she needed him as much as he needed her.
Despite the consequences, he turned and ripped himself free of her grasp. His eyes narrowed and glared at her. Surprisingly, her heavenly glow had diminished greatly. Her sin of abandonment had not gone unpunished. But then again, she and her kind preached forgiveness above all else. Leaving him in the arms of a demon was not the worst she could do, and in time, she would be pardoned.
As would he, if he simply returned to the path of light.
His voice was cold and hard as the monumental daggers of rocks around him as he spoke. No, he would not return. He would never return. Let others be blinded by the light so long that they cannot see the monstrosities that lurk there. Let others be seduced by promises of paradise and love. He would not. He would remain in the darkness, searching blindly for the only light available.
The angel argued that his light was gone, dead, banished to the hottest pits of hell where she belonged.
But he knew better. He knew she could not die, that she was disowned by both angels and demons, by god and devil, by good and evil.
He would not let her wander alone.
The angel stared sadly at him, then kissed his mouth softly, sadly. Her light increased momentarily as she spread her golden wings and lifted.
When he could no longer tell her apart from the stars in the sky, he turned back in the direction of the highway and began to walk.
Here's a good one
Did you hear about my friend
He's embarrassed to be seen now
'Cause we all know his sins
She was never really sure of what it was that drew her to the Earth cities. By all logic, she should've preferred space. It was an imitation of the true treasures of the world, just like she was. And yet, she knew she belonged on Earth. It was the only mother she'd ever known, the only home she'd ever had.
The city she liked in particular was the one near the ocean. When he'd lived with her, the apartment they shared had a view of the ocean on the west, and the mountains on the east. The height had never bothered her. The more she could see, the better. Through her travels both in herself and the world, she had applied the concept of love to two things. Him, and this city. Especially at night.
The light was never too bright here. The sun was veiled with pollution, and the city lights were all individually framed by the darkest shade of black she'd ever known. The people in the city had all lost the white glow of innocence. Even the children were tainted slightly. But that was all right. Perhaps it was the demon in her, but the fact that everyone was a sinner was reassuring and even relaxing. If they ever decided to come back for her, to attempt to punish her for her crimes, they would not find her, the sinner amongst three million other sinners.
Now, she came back to the city. She found an apartment that was closer to the mountains this time, but she still had a window to view the blue line of the ocean. And though there was no window to the mountains, she could go to the roof. And the roof became her paradise. There was nothing there save a low rail all around the top. No one was ever there. She could sit there for hours, day or night, watching the sea, watching the mountains, watching the streets below her, watching the sky above her.
All the time, she wondered why it had taken so long for her to return. She concluded there had been no real reason to. There had been no real reason to any of the things she'd done. But that was changed now. Now, she had a purpose, a task she would perform daily with almost a serene kind of joy.
To wait.
If I had the chance love
I would not hesitate
To tell you all the things I never said before
Don't tell me it's too late
The vision flashed before his eyes like a bolt of lighting.
She was on a roof
He saw the mountains to one side of her, and the ocean to another as the waves swallowed up the swollen red sun. Warm breezes tugged at her hair, and her eyes were upturned to watch for the stars blinking on like the lights below her. More peaceful than any angel, more sinfully beautiful than any devil.
His heart leaped.
He knew where she was.
He spun the car around , squealing the tires, and drove west as fast as the viper would take him.
'Cause I've relied on my illusion
To keep me warm at night
She felt him.
At first it was just the faintest brush of his consciousness, and if it had been the past, she would've assumed it was accidental. Back then, the only times she felt him was when he was either with her in body, or when he was suffering at the touch of angels, manifesting his image before her, subconsciously comforting both himself and her.
Now, she felt one thing from him.
Faster.
He wanted to go faster. But where was he going?
Faster.
She saw an image. Desert and mountains blurring past. Huge buildings on the horizon, growing quickly.
Faster.
The city streets. He had to slow down now. She felt his frustration and anger at the traffic surrounding him.
Faster.
The coffee shop, fifteen blocks from here.
Faster.
The gas station, eleven blocks.
Faster.
The dilapidated playground, seven blocks.
Faster.
The sight of a tall apartment building with a thin strip of ocean visible between other structures.
Faster.
She ran to the roof.
And I've denied in my capacity to love
But I am willing to give up this fight
"Heero."
"Pluto."
The two figures stood on the rooftop. The full moon shone down on them like a spotlight, the streetlights below shone up on them like fallen stars. For hours, it seemed, their eyes locked. Scarlet with Azure. Darkness on darkness.
They said nothing to each other, just stared. Then they fell forward to their knees, grasping each other for dear life.
Her fingers wound through his hair, he kissed her face and neck all over. Their bodies pressed together so hard it seemed they would fuse themselves into one being. A breeze lifted their hair and sent their clothes whipping, but they didn't notice or care. All that mattered now was that they were in each other's arms, that they could feel their warmth and darkness and unquestionable love.
It was unsure how long they'd been separated; but during that time both had learned the truth of their hearts and souls.
They understood love now, and welcomed it. It did not lead them from the darkness, nor did it give them a light. But it was the darkness, the great expansive thing that had consumed them and from which they could not, and in fact did not want to escape.
They also understood each other. How neither had been empty, but how they'd been like two ripped halves of the same printed page. Neither could be understood individually. The other had to be there, had to be joined in order for every thing to be clear and make sense.
And they understood the one thing that neither angels nor demons had understood. For them, there was no heaven or hell. No good or evil. There were no sins and there were no virtues.
There was only life.
And for them, there would never be life alone again.
Oh I am willing
To give up this fight
Fine
Author's Note:
I'm very sorry it has taken so long to conclude this little trilogy. I wrote "Love Will Kill You" about a year ago just as an interesting, albeit angsty look at a relationship between Heero and Setsuna. When I wrote the second version, "All the Things I Should've", I mentioned at the end how Heero was "searching" for Setsuna, even though she "died" at the end of the first story. I thought it would be interesting to draw it all together in an equally angsty (though happily ending) conclusion. Sorry if this one's a little more philosophical than usual. Not trying to be heavy or anything, just trying to bring closure to the story. A big thanks on this one to Solita, who has not only been able to make sense of this mini series, but who has also written her own mind blowing stories centered on Heero and Setsuna. I urge you to check them out! Also, thanks to everyone else who's been supportive of these three little tales. You guys are the best!
-N