None: Really short, but it's mostly Duo talking about his past, so that's okay. Enjoy and review!
Wufei did start carrying around his sketchpad, drawing little people and objects. I waited until that evening before talking to Duo about it. We were curled up on my bed, with him lying on top of me, the light off and curtains drawn, throwing the room into a twilight darkness.
"Duo," I said tentatively, and he rolled his eyes up to look at me. "Wufei is a good artist, and... well, if you asked him, I don't think he'd mind drawing you some pictures. Of your gang. Maybe it'd help you remember, help keep them alive."
Duo lowered his eyes and didn't say anything for a long time. I let the silence grow, completely patient where he was concerned, and willing to accept any answer. He stayed silent for a long time, and when he did talk, his voice was quiet.
"I don't... I don't like to ask favours, it means that I'm indebted to someone, and that's not a good thing."
I understood that it was a reference to his harsh past, and didn't push it. "He wouldn't mind. He's your friend, and he doesn't like seeing you hurt. If this helps, I think he'd do it willingly."
"I don't.... no. I can't. It's too..."
"It's alright. It was just a suggestion."
He nodded and let the silence grow again. My hand was rubbing his back lazily, and I honestly don't remember consciously deciding to do so, it was just one of those things that my body did without me. He liked it, though. During the past two days since he had woken up, I had discovered that he liked these idle touches, as if it reassured him of something, maybe that I was there, that I did love him.
"Marianne seems nice," he said after a while, and I hummed my agreement. "She seems... she reminds me of Sister Helen." I didn't speak. I was afraid to, afraid that it might break this spell and he wouldn't talk. "They don't look much alike, Sister Helen was taller and her eyes were brown, I think her hair was too, but when I saw it, it was covered with soot and dirt and.... But it's in their personalities, in their smiles. Sister Helen would look at me and smile, as if there was nothing wrong with the world, and I knew that if I ever needed it, she would be there to give me a hug and tell me a story. She would protect me. It wasn't the same sort of protection that Solo offered, of course. He'd beat the shit out of anyone who dared mess with us, and Sister Helen would never think of fighting, but... she'd protect me in other ways. She'd take me away from my life to a world of fairies and princesses and bright little poppies. That was her favourite flower, ya know, poppies. Her sister sent her some, pressed and dried, every year for her birthday, and she gave me one once. I remember feeling so special, that she had given me something that meant so much to her.
"When the attack came, when the Church was destroyed, she was the hardest loss to bear. I searched for her first, and I found her. She had... a wooden beam on her chest, and her legs were buried in rubble. Her wimple was gone, and her hair was half-burned and covered in soot and dirt and blood. She looked at me and smiled, just like every other smile. I knelt down and brushed her cheek, trying to get rid of all the grime, but couldn't. She, she didn't have long left. She blessed me and gave me her cross. And her last words... I'll always remember her last words. 'You're a bright little child, my Duo. You're special. And I will always love you. No matter where I go, I will always love you.'
"I sat and cried for ages, I don't know how long. I couldn't understand it, didn't want to. I'd found a home, found parents, I didn't want all that to be gone. It wasn't fair. After a while I got up, left, I didn't look back. I spent maybe a month hiding on the streets, just trying to survive, trying to cope with what had happened. And then I stole away on a ship. I needed to get away, needed to escape. I was found, and I remember... I didn't feel scared. Because the worse they could do was kill me and... I didn't care. They took me to this funky old guy, and we talked for a while, and he asked me... 'Do you want to get back at those bastards who hurt you, boy? Do you want to make them suffer like you did? Do you want them to hurt?'
"And suddenly I did care, because I wanted that so much. I would do anything for it. And he gave it to me. He put me through some of the worse pain I could ever imagine, always urging me on with the promise of revenge, smiling whenever I went past his expectations, whenever I did something extra that he didn't tell me to do, whenever I began to become a pilot and do things on my own and have them work out. Then he sent me to Earth, and my revenge began.
"My first mission was an assassination, sort of a letdown, that I couldn't use 'Scythe. Some high-ranking OZ bastard who was a serious threat. I made contacts on the streets and got a sniper rifle with a lasersight and nightscope. Researched the guy, found out everything about him. Picked a time, picked a place, and waited. I waited for thirteen hours until he entered the movie theatre with his lady friend. I waited until the movie ended, stilled my breathing, calmed my heartbeat, sighted on his head and waited just a moment more for the shot to be perfect. Then I squeezed the trigger, and he jerked, sort of surprised. A hole appeared in the middle of his forehead, and he went down to his knees. He looked so surprised and confused. I got away immediately, before anyone could bring the authorities in, taking the rifle with me. I went back to Deathscythe and wrote my first ever mission report. And at the end I wrote, 'Revenge is good. I want more'. So I got more. I took every mission I was sent and killed every OZ creep I came across, spilling their blood for Father Maxwell and Sister Helen and everyone else at Maxwell Church. It felt so good, at the beginning.
"Until I killed my first innocent. I had hidden Deathscythe in an abandoned warehouse outside a town, fair secure. I had some repairs to do and was distracted. I didn't hear the kid come in until he said, 'Woah'. I turned and had a gun pointed at him before I even knew what was going on. I didn't see him as a child, an innocent, I saw a threat, a danger. 'Don't let anyone see the Gundam, boy, they can't ever see it and live. Ya gotta kill everyone who sees Deathscythe, or you'll be in danger. Got it, boy? Kill everyone who sees your Gundam'. I killed the boy and buried the body, and only then thought, 'Shit. I just killed a little boy.'
"After that, revenge didn't sound as good as it had. I killed more innocents, everyone who saw my Gundam, and those that were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I remembered every one, remembered that had they not met me, they would be living. But they had met me, and they'd fallen to Shinigami. Little kids, Heero. Little kids should not know about Shinigami."
"Once we win, they won't. That's what we're trying to create, Duo. It's hard, but we will win."
"I know we'll win, but will we survive? Physically, yeah, maybe, but mentally? I'm broken, Heero, very seriously. The thought of holding a gun... killing... I just want it to be over."
What could I say? Some overused cliché that was a blatant lie? The harsh truth? A mixture of both? I was floundering helplessly in a sea of confusion. I just didn't know what to do.
"I'm tired now. Gonna sleep. G'night."
"Goodnight, Duo." I kissed the top of the head and waited forty-seven seconds for him to fall asleep.
My thoughts were chasing each other around in circles like little rabid bunnies. I'd actually heard quite a bit about Duo's past, filled with such pain and sadness that it made my heartache, and he'd told me for no special reason at no special time, all because Marianne reminded him of Sister Helen. Why? Why tell me at all?
Someone knocked quietly on the door and Quatre stuck his head in. "Hi, I was just wondering if you needed anything," he whispered, and then seemed to notice just what position Duo and I were in. He tried, I could see that, but he couldn't help that damned idiotic smile from creeping onto his face, the one that says he thinks we're just 'too cute for words'.
I scowled at him to let him know what would happen if he voiced that opinion before saying, "No, thanks, we're fine."
Hesitating a moment, Quatre slipped into the room and moved around to look at Duo's face, frowning slightly.
"What?" I asked.
"I was feeling... some dark things a moment ago... but now I sense a sort of... peace? Like, something has been lifted from his shoulders or something. What happened?"
"He...." I didn't want to tell Quatre what Duo had told me, it was too personal, too private, but he had a right to know something, so I eventually said, "He told me some things about his past that I guess he needed to say." I frowned slightly, because Duo was lying completely still, and even though our voices were as soft as possible, he should've woken up when we began speaking. Hell, he should've woken up when the door opened.
Quatre slowly reached out and brushed his fingertips against Duo's forehead, eyes closed. Then he smiled and withdrew his hand.
"He feels safe," he whispered. "He feels safe and warm, and... he trusts you. He trusts you to wake him up for danger. Only you saying the D-word will get him to wake up."
"He... he really trusts me that much?"
"He really does. Get some sleep, Heero. You're exhausted." He smiled again and left.
Closing my eyes, I tightened my grip around Duo's body, and let the soft sound of his breathing lull me to sleep.
Wufei did start carrying around his sketchpad, drawing little people and objects. I waited until that evening before talking to Duo about it. We were curled up on my bed, with him lying on top of me, the light off and curtains drawn, throwing the room into a twilight darkness.
"Duo," I said tentatively, and he rolled his eyes up to look at me. "Wufei is a good artist, and... well, if you asked him, I don't think he'd mind drawing you some pictures. Of your gang. Maybe it'd help you remember, help keep them alive."
Duo lowered his eyes and didn't say anything for a long time. I let the silence grow, completely patient where he was concerned, and willing to accept any answer. He stayed silent for a long time, and when he did talk, his voice was quiet.
"I don't... I don't like to ask favours, it means that I'm indebted to someone, and that's not a good thing."
I understood that it was a reference to his harsh past, and didn't push it. "He wouldn't mind. He's your friend, and he doesn't like seeing you hurt. If this helps, I think he'd do it willingly."
"I don't.... no. I can't. It's too..."
"It's alright. It was just a suggestion."
He nodded and let the silence grow again. My hand was rubbing his back lazily, and I honestly don't remember consciously deciding to do so, it was just one of those things that my body did without me. He liked it, though. During the past two days since he had woken up, I had discovered that he liked these idle touches, as if it reassured him of something, maybe that I was there, that I did love him.
"Marianne seems nice," he said after a while, and I hummed my agreement. "She seems... she reminds me of Sister Helen." I didn't speak. I was afraid to, afraid that it might break this spell and he wouldn't talk. "They don't look much alike, Sister Helen was taller and her eyes were brown, I think her hair was too, but when I saw it, it was covered with soot and dirt and.... But it's in their personalities, in their smiles. Sister Helen would look at me and smile, as if there was nothing wrong with the world, and I knew that if I ever needed it, she would be there to give me a hug and tell me a story. She would protect me. It wasn't the same sort of protection that Solo offered, of course. He'd beat the shit out of anyone who dared mess with us, and Sister Helen would never think of fighting, but... she'd protect me in other ways. She'd take me away from my life to a world of fairies and princesses and bright little poppies. That was her favourite flower, ya know, poppies. Her sister sent her some, pressed and dried, every year for her birthday, and she gave me one once. I remember feeling so special, that she had given me something that meant so much to her.
"When the attack came, when the Church was destroyed, she was the hardest loss to bear. I searched for her first, and I found her. She had... a wooden beam on her chest, and her legs were buried in rubble. Her wimple was gone, and her hair was half-burned and covered in soot and dirt and blood. She looked at me and smiled, just like every other smile. I knelt down and brushed her cheek, trying to get rid of all the grime, but couldn't. She, she didn't have long left. She blessed me and gave me her cross. And her last words... I'll always remember her last words. 'You're a bright little child, my Duo. You're special. And I will always love you. No matter where I go, I will always love you.'
"I sat and cried for ages, I don't know how long. I couldn't understand it, didn't want to. I'd found a home, found parents, I didn't want all that to be gone. It wasn't fair. After a while I got up, left, I didn't look back. I spent maybe a month hiding on the streets, just trying to survive, trying to cope with what had happened. And then I stole away on a ship. I needed to get away, needed to escape. I was found, and I remember... I didn't feel scared. Because the worse they could do was kill me and... I didn't care. They took me to this funky old guy, and we talked for a while, and he asked me... 'Do you want to get back at those bastards who hurt you, boy? Do you want to make them suffer like you did? Do you want them to hurt?'
"And suddenly I did care, because I wanted that so much. I would do anything for it. And he gave it to me. He put me through some of the worse pain I could ever imagine, always urging me on with the promise of revenge, smiling whenever I went past his expectations, whenever I did something extra that he didn't tell me to do, whenever I began to become a pilot and do things on my own and have them work out. Then he sent me to Earth, and my revenge began.
"My first mission was an assassination, sort of a letdown, that I couldn't use 'Scythe. Some high-ranking OZ bastard who was a serious threat. I made contacts on the streets and got a sniper rifle with a lasersight and nightscope. Researched the guy, found out everything about him. Picked a time, picked a place, and waited. I waited for thirteen hours until he entered the movie theatre with his lady friend. I waited until the movie ended, stilled my breathing, calmed my heartbeat, sighted on his head and waited just a moment more for the shot to be perfect. Then I squeezed the trigger, and he jerked, sort of surprised. A hole appeared in the middle of his forehead, and he went down to his knees. He looked so surprised and confused. I got away immediately, before anyone could bring the authorities in, taking the rifle with me. I went back to Deathscythe and wrote my first ever mission report. And at the end I wrote, 'Revenge is good. I want more'. So I got more. I took every mission I was sent and killed every OZ creep I came across, spilling their blood for Father Maxwell and Sister Helen and everyone else at Maxwell Church. It felt so good, at the beginning.
"Until I killed my first innocent. I had hidden Deathscythe in an abandoned warehouse outside a town, fair secure. I had some repairs to do and was distracted. I didn't hear the kid come in until he said, 'Woah'. I turned and had a gun pointed at him before I even knew what was going on. I didn't see him as a child, an innocent, I saw a threat, a danger. 'Don't let anyone see the Gundam, boy, they can't ever see it and live. Ya gotta kill everyone who sees Deathscythe, or you'll be in danger. Got it, boy? Kill everyone who sees your Gundam'. I killed the boy and buried the body, and only then thought, 'Shit. I just killed a little boy.'
"After that, revenge didn't sound as good as it had. I killed more innocents, everyone who saw my Gundam, and those that were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I remembered every one, remembered that had they not met me, they would be living. But they had met me, and they'd fallen to Shinigami. Little kids, Heero. Little kids should not know about Shinigami."
"Once we win, they won't. That's what we're trying to create, Duo. It's hard, but we will win."
"I know we'll win, but will we survive? Physically, yeah, maybe, but mentally? I'm broken, Heero, very seriously. The thought of holding a gun... killing... I just want it to be over."
What could I say? Some overused cliché that was a blatant lie? The harsh truth? A mixture of both? I was floundering helplessly in a sea of confusion. I just didn't know what to do.
"I'm tired now. Gonna sleep. G'night."
"Goodnight, Duo." I kissed the top of the head and waited forty-seven seconds for him to fall asleep.
My thoughts were chasing each other around in circles like little rabid bunnies. I'd actually heard quite a bit about Duo's past, filled with such pain and sadness that it made my heartache, and he'd told me for no special reason at no special time, all because Marianne reminded him of Sister Helen. Why? Why tell me at all?
Someone knocked quietly on the door and Quatre stuck his head in. "Hi, I was just wondering if you needed anything," he whispered, and then seemed to notice just what position Duo and I were in. He tried, I could see that, but he couldn't help that damned idiotic smile from creeping onto his face, the one that says he thinks we're just 'too cute for words'.
I scowled at him to let him know what would happen if he voiced that opinion before saying, "No, thanks, we're fine."
Hesitating a moment, Quatre slipped into the room and moved around to look at Duo's face, frowning slightly.
"What?" I asked.
"I was feeling... some dark things a moment ago... but now I sense a sort of... peace? Like, something has been lifted from his shoulders or something. What happened?"
"He...." I didn't want to tell Quatre what Duo had told me, it was too personal, too private, but he had a right to know something, so I eventually said, "He told me some things about his past that I guess he needed to say." I frowned slightly, because Duo was lying completely still, and even though our voices were as soft as possible, he should've woken up when we began speaking. Hell, he should've woken up when the door opened.
Quatre slowly reached out and brushed his fingertips against Duo's forehead, eyes closed. Then he smiled and withdrew his hand.
"He feels safe," he whispered. "He feels safe and warm, and... he trusts you. He trusts you to wake him up for danger. Only you saying the D-word will get him to wake up."
"He... he really trusts me that much?"
"He really does. Get some sleep, Heero. You're exhausted." He smiled again and left.
Closing my eyes, I tightened my grip around Duo's body, and let the soft sound of his breathing lull me to sleep.