Author: Dae Yuy/Stolen Childe
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters featured in this work of fiction. (Wow that sounded all professional)
Genre: Crossover AtS-GW (No! Don't run away! Pweeze?)
Warning: underaged drinking, angst, post-EW, post-NFA(by a few thousand years, no bat face though cuz that's just icky), shounen-ai-slash implications, cursing
Rating: PG
Pairing: 1p2p1 (I really hate the fact that plus signs don't show up anymore)
Spoilers: EW
Feedback: Please!
Author's Notes: Here we go another one shot. Anyone notice the author's name (points) SC is my other alias for AtS mostly, I wanted to separate anime from Angel so I did, my other account is under Stolen Childe if anyone's interested in reading my AtS stuff. This story wasn't planned or thought out at all. It wasn't even one of those fics that just come to you. I wanted a G-boy in a bar moping and an ensouled vamp giving him a pep talk. I find the characters the easiest to write and that's my favourite G-boy no other reason for these two. (Ooo mystery that's probably more frustrating than anything) So enjoy and please send feedback.
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He didn't know what was going to happen to him. After he had taken the short time to recover from his exhaustion he paid Relena a quick visit then left. He brought nothing with him, not thinking anything had enough value to bring along. Just the clothes on his back and shoes on his feet. He briefly debated going to Duo but passed on the idea.
He nursed the whisky in front of him, wincing as it burned down his throat. The nearly seventeen year old had gone to one of the sleazier bars in L1; after all, the colony had its share.
"Expensive stuff makes you forget faster," an accented voice said to his right.
He glanced over, before returning to the pale brown liquid in the bottom of his glass, "As of four days ago I'm unemployed."
"Sorry to hear that," the stranger shrugged.
"It's better than what I'd been doing before," he answered.
"Oh?" the stranger asked.
He snorted, "I murdered people."
The stranger took it surprisingly well, "I've been there. Long time ago."
The youth glanced at the young man beside him, "You don't look old enough to be talking like that."
"You don't look old enough to be in here," the other pointed.
"I'm not," he replied deadpan.
"I am." The stranger grinned, "What's your name?"
"Depends who you ask," he shrugged.
"Pick one," the other said.
He sighed, "Heero Yuy."
"Spike," the other offered.
"Strange name," Heero remarked.
"I could say the same thing," Spike shrugged.
"Mine's Japanese, what's your excuse?" Heero asked.
"I used them as an implement once," Spike replied, the familiar look of a killer in his eyes.
"Do you have a real name?" Heero asked.
"Do you?" Spike replied.
"Touché." Heero conceded, "Spike it is then." Heero saluted with the alcohol the liquid already going to his inexperienced head.
"Light weight," Spike scoffed.
"I'd imagine so," Heero shrugged. Spike raised an eyebrow at the response to his jibe. Heero studied him curiously. Duo had been able to do the same thing, and Wufei. Heero had never figured it out.
"Checking me out Lad?" Spike grinned, trying again.
Heero was used to it, "Maybe. I'm on my third," he gestured with the alcohol, "so anything's possible."
"What's your story?" Spike asked, genuinely curious.
"You don't recogonize the name?" Heero questioned.
"Should I?" Spike questioned.
Heero snorted, "I saved the world, a few times actually."
Spike nodded, "Know what that's like too. I get the name now. 01, huh? What has the great war hero drowning his sorrows?"
"You sound bitter," Heero remarked.
"Little bit," Spike shrugged with a half smile.
"I've been raised to be a soldier. I have nothing else going for me. I suppose I could hack into other people's bank accounts for a living," Heero mused.
"Not exactly something I'd broadcast," Spike said.
"I'd be better off in prison. At least there I'd have other people telling me what to do," Heero downed his whisky then motioned for another. Spike put his hand over the glass before the bar tender could poor and gestured to the dusty bottle of good scotch on the upper shelf.
"My treat." Spike said, "You look like you could use it."
"Demo Arigato." Heero said.
"Sorry Luv, don't speak Japanese," Spike grinned. Heero suspected it was a private joke.
Heero frowned, going a touch cross eyed, "Never been called that before. 'Babe' but never love."
"Oh? Who called you babe?" Spike wondered.
"I suppose the technical term is boyfriend. Wonder how he's doing. I wonder if he'll miss me," Heero played absently with the water pooling on the counter top. Spike didn't say anything for a moment and Heero wasn't the type to engage a conversation. They sipped the drinks in silence, lost in their individual thoughts.
Spike took a breath, "I know what you're planning to do Heero and don't ask how. I just do. I don't really think that it's the best course to take. You're more than just a soldier. Hell you're only sixteen you have—"
"My whole life in front of me." Heero finished, "I've heard the speech. And you know what? I never wanted to be a soldier. I never wanted to fight a war. I never wanted to kill people. It felt like I had lost my soul and I could only do as instincts suggested. Kill are be killed to live another day. I didn't want to see another day. I tried a fucking lot to kill myself but some higher forces were stopping me." Heero snorted, "I've never believed in fate. I don't know why I'm starting now."
"Fate and Destiny are pretty powerful women." Spike mused, "Take it from someone who knows. I thought I was finished once. Went out in a blaze of glory; saved the world. I was done and it was peaceful. Then I come screaming back to myself in the middle of Evil Incorporated looking at my most loathed enemy. The person whose fault it was that I am how I am. You see he moulded me to hate and kill. He formed me in his image, just as if he were a god."
"Doctor J." it was said quietly and with some form of reverence in the tone. Spike suspected he hadn't been meant to hear in the first place.
"The name of mine was Angelus," Spike muttered darkly.
Heero let escape a small quivering laugh as if he was on the edge of his sanity, "Did you love him?"
Spike looked surprised, "What?"
"Did you love him?" Heero looked directly at the other man, his blue eyes slightly blurred.
"He was the angel of death." Spike muttered, "Death can't love."
Heero looked off into the mirror, the empty mirror; he frowned but shook his head before saying, "I disagree. Death can love better than most. My Shinigami. Death wasn't my god; he was my saviour. I would have lost myself to a different sort of death if not for him."
"I was destroyed by death and you were saved by death." Spike mused, "Funny how that works. Duo wasn't your saviour Heero. He just looked like it."
Heero laughed humourlessly, "Are you?"
Spike frowned, "I don't know. I think you have to save yourself."
"Heroes take care of the world. But who takes care of heroes?" Heero asked.
"Champions?"
Heero snorted, "Do you happen to know the number of one? My little black book seems to have disintegrated along with my Gundam."
Spike took a small white business card out of his duster pocket. He put it face up on the table. Angel Investigations.
Heero looked into the empty mirror again and knew his eyes wouldn't play the same trick twice, "I've gone crazy. Duo always said I was. Now I believe him. You aren't really here." Spike put a cold hand on the boy's cheek peering intently into cobalt eyes with ice blue.
"I'm real. Just not like most people." Spike said, "And this champion will look after you Heero. Offing yourself really ain't the answer. The world's not done with you yet. You can still do some good."
Heero's eyes hardened, "I've never 'done good.' I've been terrorizing humanity for as long as I can remember. Fighting for a cause I knew I could never win. And I was right. There will be battle after battle but the war is ongoing. Do you know why Champion? Because humanity is weak. We are all weak, that's what I told a friend once. Peace has no room for soldiers or warriors so they'll make room for themselves. Give it another year, three at the most and you'll have another war on your hands or whatever it is you've saved the world from. A girl I know believes in the innate goodness of humanity. She's naïve and foolish. Relena Peacecraft will fight for pacifism and she may succeed to a level but it won't last. There will be room for soldiers once again but I don't want to fight so I'm going to remove myself from peace rather than make room for myself." Heero moved to go but Spike's surprisingly strong grip forced him to sit.
"Are you a coward Heero?" Spike wheedled.
"Far from it. But I'm human, so I'm weak. What are you?" Heero glared, that perfect soldier stoicism shinning through as the alcohol began to wear off; his tampered genes working against the struggle to get drunk.
"I'm here to help you." Spike glared back, "There's people who need you alive Heero and not just for your skills. Humanity may be weak, but you're one of the stronger ones and the weaker ones will need a shoulder to lean on."
"Well I'm sick and tired of being a brick wall." Heero replied, "They can find someone else."
"Even Duo?" Spike tossed out, stabbing Heero right through the heart.
Heero looked down and away from the cold gaze, "Duo doesn't need me."
"But you need him," Spike said.
"Apparently not." Heero replied, "You told me he just looked like my salvation. If I stay I'm only going to burden him. He has enough guilt of his own without worrying about mine. Duo has a shot at a pretty good life because he is one of the stronger ones. He's always been one of the stronger ones. Duo, Quatre and Relena. They're the reasons this world will go on existing."
"And Trowa, Wufei and Zechs?" Spike asked, "What of them?"
"They're fragile." Heero said sadly, "But Trowa has Quatre. Wufei has Trowa and Zechs has his sister. Quatre has Duo and Duo has Trowa. Relena has the world."
"Who has you?" Spike asked.
"Hell," Heero spat, standing and moving out of reach before Spike could make a grab for him again.
"Fuck," Spike hissed as the slight boy disappeared out the front door. The blond slapped the money on the bar following after his young charge. He didn't have to go far to find him. Heero was standing a ways down the block; shoulders hunched and withdrawn.
"What were you running to?" Spike asked quietly, coming up beside the boy.
The boy turned and Spike was surprised to find tears glistening in deep blue eyes, "Wing." Was the boy's choked reply, "Wing Zero."
"It doesn't exist." Spike said softly, "There's only one place to run Heero and you know where that is. The question becomes: are you able to face it?"
"Face what?" Heero asked, defeated.
"Love." Spike replied, "Are you able to face love."
"I'm not deserving of love," Heero muttered.
"Someone once told you that you were the most deserving soul he knew. Do you remember that? You were the soul of outer space."
"Quatre," Heero whispered, a hand ghosting over his heart before falling again to his side.
"Someone once told you were the most amazing guy they ever knew."
"Duo," Heero smiled.
"Someone once told you that you were the most honourable person they've ever met."
"Wufei," Heero chuckled.
"Someone once told you were the strongest person they've ever known."
"Trowa," Heero whispered gently.
Spike turned the boy to face him, "How could you abandon them all like that? How could you take their praise and spit in their faces? How could you disappoint them? They admire you, they look up to you."
"They're all taller than me." Heero said.
Spike rolled his eyes, "They all love you. He loves you. Are you ready to throw that away like it never existed? Are you ready to cause all that heart ache? All that pain? You're too pure to give that up."
"I'm tainted. My hands are stained in the blood of my victims." Heero said, "How can I face their love and admiration when I know what I really am?"
"Because they all know it too. At one time or another we are all innocent victims. Me. My death and his before that. The line continues. Some of us just have more misfortune than others but not all of us quit. I was more than ready to quit once upon a time but something bigger than me intervened. I'm bigger than you," Spike grinned.
"Consider you my intervention?" Heero asked, looking up at the creature.
"Right," Spike nodded. He put his hand in his pocket of his duster and Heero almost fell into a protective stance thinking for a brief moment that it was a gun. A shuttle ticket found its way into his hand instead.
"Be stronger than the weak." Spike encouraged, "Hang on tooth and nail. Eventually you'll get your rope and find your feet again. Right now your sky diving without a parachute and I understand you know what that is like."
"I had a parachute," Heero said petulantly.
"Okay your sky diving without a deployed parachute." Spike cupped his hand over Heero's holding the ticket, "That's your rip cord all you got to do is pull."
"It's way too late now." Heero quoted.
"You survived the first time." Spike reminded, "I'm not saying you aren't going to break a bone but broken bones heal and so do hearts."
"My heart's not broken," Heero said. He was tempted to add that it didn't exist but he suspected his strange champion wouldn't like that response.
"No. You're heart's just scared. Scars fade over time," Spike shrugged.
Heero looked at his companion, than down at the ticket, "My rip cord. Hn." He stared at it for a moment longer and tucked it away in his pocket.
"Remember to bend your knees," Spike said.
"Bones heal," was the response.
The End
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There's no OOC tag because frankly I've never understood where the belief that Heero is a emotionless robot came from (though it is good for humour/parody fics). I think he's one of the most expressive pilots even more than Duo sometimes. Quatre of course takes the cake though. So that's my take on Heero you can put on your own mental OOC tag if you want, I won't be offended. Smiles