Author's Notes: The song is "The Winner Takes It All" by ABBA. If you should happen to listen to it, the fic would be a lot more poignant. No, this is not a happy fic about a lovely wedding and all sorts of cherubs, it's a damned depressing fic about unrequited love. Please look on it kindly as I wrote it while very sleepy, and less inclined to ruin Duo emotionally than I ordinarily would be. Also, I'm sure the tense is a little wonky, I was experimenting then I kept slipping and I'm not patient enough to go fix it.
Disclaimers: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of the characters therein. Bandai has that fortunate license. This is simply a fanwork, I am not making profit of any kind, and I would greatly appreciate it if you refrained from suing.
The Winner Takes It All
Feet shuffle uncomfortably around chair legs outside the fuzz that's grown like an insidious mold in my brain. My own knuckles are itching to pop, I'm dying to sit down with a bottle of Jack and let this all be over with – someone's coughing nervously in the background, and I hope to god it's not me. The conductor takes a deep breath and raises his arms ready to bring them crashing down at a moment's notice, the violins ready themselves; the tubas are ready to go. Next to me Heero doesn't smile, he never smiles, he's never smiled in his life, but I think he's happy.
Down the conductor's arms, up the violins, and an almost spontaneous wedding march begins, all shuffling stops.
I don't wanna talk
About the things we've gone through
Though it's hurting me
Now it's history
When I met Heero Yuy, he was the scariest thing I'd ever seen. The perfect soldier, a rival, someone I could never match, never compete with – someone I owed. I may have saved his butt, but I owed him my life for not killing me straight out. Spending a year deliberately irritating the hell out of a man that could snap your neck like pasta may not have been wise, but I was bound and determined to make loosen up. I was going to force him to survive the war. It was only right that he survive, to remember those that hadn't, he needed that much at least.
I took missions with him, barreled freight trains over for him, held bases for him, and repaired his machine for him. Told him jokes that no one in their right mind would laugh at, taught him how to get ice cream all over his hands. And Heero… Heero was just Heero, he blew things up, killed people, shot people, destroyed peace negotiations, took undercover jobs, self destructed, handed the enemy the gun.
I should be standing at a funeral.
I've played all my cards
And that's what you've done too
Nothing more to say
No more ace to play
I insinuated myself into Heero's life like a malignant plague, I became his best friend and so much more. Heero is all about being the best, having the best: updating, reforming, challenging the obvious. Fifteen years old, pilot-guru, not a bad chef, supreme fencer, he's got incredible aim, the best computer software, the only human being ever to master three Gundam-type systems in under a year: Heero is all for beating the odds.
Every time I challenged him I lost, arm wrestling, sharp-shooting, fencing, chess, I even lost the stupid pie-eating contest at some silly town fair I dragged him to a year ago. It was absolutely no surprise when he emerged from the wreckage of Libra having beaten Zechs Marquise to a pulp. So it should have been no surprise when he sat down next to me in our tiny apartment a stone's throw away from the office and said "I'm getting married."
It was so ridiculous I almost laughed, "Who?" Okay, stupid question, it was always going to be the same girl: Relena of course, who else would chase him to the ends of the earth seeking his strength, well, at least Relena because he sure didn't ask me. But instead of shrugging me off as a trademark idiot, he told me, and I tried not to throw up. Oh god, he was serious.
He was looking at me like nothing we'd ever done together really mattered. Like no matter how many times I saved his butt or he saved mine, or how many times we both got so lonely, and still after the war, she was more important. I wanted to kill him, I wanted to kill her. I really should be at a funeral, but I knew that in the end, when he came dragging his pathetic corpse out of the Brussels Presidential Residence, and Relena was on his arm like some depraved limpet, holding him up and dragging him down, that this was the way it would be. "Would you be the best man?"
The winner takes it all
The loser standing small
Beside the victory
That's her destiny
Ah the beautiful bride, making her long-awaited appearance in white splendor and carrying behind her a ten foot train, thin, beautiful, and still two inches taller than Heero. I wanted to start crying, if I hadn't been right up front, if Heero hadn't been standing next to me, looking expectant and so pleased with himself, I would have. Was this political? Was this bettering himself? I wish just once that I could ask him, that he wouldn't shoot me betrayed looks or knowing stares, because at heart I do know. Heero is trying to make a better world, always upgrading, always forcing everyone else to follow, and Relena is the only woman with the wherewithal to pull it off.
It didn't matter when we were younger; it didn't matter during the wars if any soldier in any of the seven wars that were being fought had any power whatsoever. We were bodies, fighting a war against bodies, and reacting as bodies do. Taking comfort where and with whom we found it, showing affection where we thought we could. I spent so many nights sleeping alone, exhausting myself with constant and creeping anxiety, I spent more nights exhausted with company and sleeping like a rock when I had the option. Partners in war, partners in crime, and often partners between the sheets, because what else was there?
Heero was one of the few comforts that were so few and so far between, he was my midnight barrier against the universe. If he was there, I could almost pretend that I was a normal teenager, comfortable, at home, exactly where I belonged, going to school, daydreaming of nastiness, occasionally breaking the rules.
I was in your arms
Thinking I belonged there
I figured it made sense
Building me a fence
After the wars, Heero stayed on. He took up a post as a preventer, trying in his own pig-headed way to change the world. He stayed; we stayed, in a grotty little apartment a block away from the office, still partners, and still my sole comfort, I guess I thought I was his.
It didn't matter that we didn't spend every mission together, it didn't matter that when I got home and crawled into our bed that Heero wasn't always there, because he was there in the apartment, he was there in the colony, he was there in the perfect symmetry of the cheap motel-art that the previous resident left, he was there in the neatly folded boxers in the laundry bin. Heero was there even when he wasn't, and I knew when I came home that he would be, somehow, until one day he wasn't.
It only made sense that we all kill ourselves to rescue the princess. Rally the villagers, fight of the hoards of demons while the hero dashes forward to marry the remarkably available princess. Fall in love with the girl in the pink dress – it was every fairy tale come true, except for mine.
Building me a home
Thinking I'd be strong there
But I was just a fool
Playing by the rules
"And do you vow to honor and…." Relena had earned nothing, how could she have honor never having worked for it? She was elevated to such a crucial position because she was convenient, the daughter of a dead debutant, and the adopted daughter of an ambassador. She had friends in all the right places, she went to the right schools, had the right credentials, she was just easy enough to control to be perfect for the position. People gained her respect by her father's merits, ideals that she had no concept of until she found herself thrust into a situation, pointing a gun at a woman wearing a rose.
I shed blood and tears, sacrificed everything I had ever known for this war. We all did, born in the wrong places, or the right places, I was a thief and a beggar that got shunted into training and gave it my all. I waded through vomit and muck to accomplish her goals, I would have done anything to make a better world for colonists. Heero fought like a legion of men to complete his mission, and we remained powerless against the flow of the tide.
I want to spit; right here at the altar, I just want to spit at her feet, on her perfectly brushed white-satin shoes. All she ever did was get in the way, all she ever did was cause problems and distractions, and now he's marrying her. For nothing.
The gods may throw a dice
Their minds as cold as ice
And someone way down here
Loses someone dear
Relena has everything she ever wanted now. She probably sensed the same things in him that I did. Probably realized that he was the only person that could bring about any sort of resolution, the only one that could blow up a pot and clean it just as efficiently. Relena played tug-of-war with the hearts of the populace and won them, violence, weapons, anything that remotely resembled a tool of war had to slide into the mud eventually; it was only natural that the Gundam Pilots should do the same.
It was only natural that I should lose Heero to the inexorable pull of all that power, waiting to be harnessed, waiting to be put to a good use, waiting to benefit humanity. So obvious, I am so painfully aware of it, how can Relena have any shred of respect for herself if the terms of her marriage were strictly political? I should feel vindicated, I want to feel as though justice has been served and they're contracting themselves into a life of mutual-indifference.
I want to feel at least justifiably bitter, but all I feel is sorrow, because he can't love her, it's not possible. She can't truly love him, not if she seeks nothing but his strength. And he deserves so much more.
The winner takes it all
The loser has to fall
It's simple and it's plain
Why should I complain.
"And do you, Relena…?"
"I do." There it is, the moment I've been dreading more than anything, the lifting of the veil, nearly identical gold bands on oh-so-different fingers, the obligatory kiss, up close and personal, utterly lacking in passion. Heero! I want to yell at him, I want to rail at him, I want him back, I want him to kiss me, short and pathetic as their's was. How can you be happy like this? How can you do this? How can you do it to yourself, how can you do it to me?
Would he carry her over the threshold, would they christen the castle, would they bother? I didn't want to think about it, it was vulgar, it was an image I couldn't get out of my head. Heero's eyes, his mouth, the intense frown of concentration when as he hovered over her, I wanted to vomit it up with the other meager contents of my stomach.
The chapel is ringing with the applause of foreign dignitaries, all invited to a former-queen's wedding. I watched them walk past, all three of Relena's bride's maids shot me hopeful glances, and though there was a raised muttering about 'how beautiful the ceremony, wasn't everyone so handsome, wasn't Relena's dress fabulous, I still heard it. "Oh Heero…" as she stole a peck from his cheek, wrapped around his arm just as a happy new bride should be.
But tell me does she kiss
Like I used to kiss you?
Does it feel the same
When she calls your name?
Heero caught my eye in the middle of the reception hall, he frowned at me contemplatively, which is more than I've been getting for the past month, and so much less than I wanted from him. An apology maybe, an explanation, though I didn't necessarily need either. Was it Relena's idea to make me your best man? Do you think she realized just how much she was killing me by making me watch that, making me stand as Heero's right-hand-man when all I wanted was to be in the fetal position somewhere under the crushing foot of a mobile suit? Murder by inadvertent emotional harm.
I never really got around to telling him I love him. In the months that Relena was planning, and Heero's solidity was slowly seeping from our, my apartment I often wondered if it would change his mind, but I know him too well. Love was nothing compared to the potential world-wide influence, love was a series of enzymes making contact with the appropriate synapses at the right time, love would have been something for him to regret. It would have been different if I had something, it would have been worse, it was always worse, so I didn't manage to say anything to him, and here on his wedding day, all I want to do is commit suicide by alcohol poisoning.
Relena was one of those rich few that could afford a live orchestra at her wedding and reception; no cheap wedding band or polka playing mariachi desperados for her. The first song started, slow and tremulous, the first song they'd ever danced to if I'd taken any notice, which I did, and Heero was dragged away to the dance floor to stand on time-honored tradition.
Somewhere deep inside
You must know I miss you
But what can I say
Rules must be obeyed
I tried not to mingle, which was a resounding failure. My first attempt at deliberate non-mingling found me talking to an elderly gentleman who turned out to be a close relative of the Peacecrafts. How proud he was of his grand niece, grand daughter, I'd lost track, how splendid she'd looked while walking down the aisle, and how appropriate that she should have no one accompany her. Poor darling, surely she would have loved her father to be there on this most blessed of days. I think it's wonderful that young Mister Yuy finally proposed to our dear Relena, we've been expecting it for years you know. But no matter how much I try, my non-committal grunts always turn out to be thoughtful sentences, and not mingling turns into the opposite.
So I tried mingling, I desperately tried to find people to talk to, people to chat about the lovely ceremony with, people to comment on how adorable the little flower girl was, which also didn't work. People began running away, because what all natural minglers hate most is another natural mingler, but it still didn't give me peace and quiet, because I found myself saddled with the most natural mingler in the known galaxy. "Duo, it's nice to see you here. You looked very handsome in your tuxedo."
"Heh. Thank you Quatre, I appreciate that." I'll still never forget trying to find and disarm 20 bombs in a supposedly secure city, evacuating during a sandstorm, rolling a train onto Deathscythe to protect the Sandrock. No matter how flattering or well mannered a person, it's impossible to forget just what they look like before they think they're going to die. I hadn't seen him in years, what was I supposed to say to him, why hadn't I seen him before, why couldn't he have been there with me, or Trowa, who was just as much a man and probably more the best than I would ever be. "I take it Heero invited you?"
"No actually… we sat on the Bride's side…" it looked to me like Quatre didn't know what to say either, which suited me fine.
The judges will decide
The likes of me abide
Spectators of the show
Always staying low
I remained happily seated, or at least seated, shipping at one of the many circulated flutes of champagne as Quatre neglected to say anything remotely interesting to me, and no one else bothered to try. Did his umpteenth sister really have four babies? Maybe I'd go visit if I ever felt up to leaving my bedroom again. And just as I'm feeling ready to tell him what's really on my mind and damn the consequences, the wedding planner, who had been giving herself ulcers making sure that everything went as smooth as custard accosted me and nearly tore my arm off with her over-priced fingernails. "You agreed to do a toast right?!" She hissed in the almost-too-loud whisper that only frantic people can manage.
"Yes." Why? Why did I bother, why when I knew I couldn't say anything generous and mean it? I will never know why I opened my big mouth during the planning stages and said 'sure, I'll do a speech' or why I didn't back out of it, or why I let Relena's perfect wedding have that victory over me. The Best Man's speech, polished, refined, poignant, the wedding cake dazzling, the dress assuredly comfortable, beautiful, and professional – this wedding was every little girl's dream and I'd just made part of it come true.
"You're sober aren't you?!"
A few sips of wine (fizzy or not) did not a drunk make, if only I could be so lucky, but I've been dreading this for the whole evening, and even more so now that it's upon me. "Yes. Toast time then?"
"Yes!" I stood up, I cleared my throat, a few of the near by tables glanced up at me, oh the best man Charlene, better pay attention now. The dull roar of three hundred people ground to a stop and I had their full attention. Already Relena was wrapped up in her work, and Heero was being the perpetual body guard, already they were ignoring each other in lieu of other's needs. If a bomb went off, they'd be ready. If a peace treaty needed to be urgently negotiated with the French ambassador, they'd be ready.
I tried so hard not to look at Heero, I tried not to stare at him. I tried so hard to keep anything but humor in my voice, I tried like the devil not to let it catch in the back of my throat. Then I opened my mouth and said something, I don't remember what it was, people started applauding, Heero was still, Relena was nodding her head in approval. My pride slid under my chair and sulked.
"Congratulations Guys. You deserve all the happiness in the world."
The game is on again
A lover or a friend
A big thing or a small
The winner takes it all
The bride and groom are no longer cuffed to each other; I can take comfort in that at least, they're still together, but at least they're alone. I can't help myself for watching Heero warily all night, I can't help myself for wanting him to kowtow before me and beg my forgiveness, and I can't help myself for the litany of curses against him that wants to burst from my tongue every time I see him. But I can help myself from catching his eye, and I can help myself from being anywhere near him.
He's hunting me down, he's always been very good at it. If he was willing to chase General Noventa's family from Antarctica to Montreal then he is more than capable of finding me in the dwindling crowd. The difference being, if he handed me a gun, I'd actually shoot him with it. He's talking to Trowa now, who is keeping him miraculously distracted as only Trowa knows how. Something about the quiet ones in deep conversation with the quieter ones, and it goes on for hours, most of it non-verbal. I whisked one of Relena's bride's maids into a waltz, just because I wasn't sad, or jealous, or angry, or hurt at all.
I casually danced with a bored seven year old girl who stood on my feet and got walked around the marble floor when Heero had nearly spotted me again. I forced myself into a conversation about the finer aspects in life with five fifty year old men when Wufe's conversation had run dry. I hid in the bathroom for half an hour because I couldn't stand to talk to him.
I am being juvenile, I know, I am being an idiot, I know, I am being ridiculous, I know. But it's better to be a ridiculously juvenile idiot than to be confronted by my recent lover, my best friend at his wedding. I could almost see it now, a fake smile, 'thanks for coming Duo. I really appreciate it. Your speech was great.' I might just die on the bathroom floor.
I don't wanna talk
If it makes you feel sad
And I understand
You've come to shake my hand
The party ground into bored conversation, couples and families left by twos and threes, congratulating the newlyweds and wishing them a happy and productive childhood until eventually all that were left was the clean up crew, the heavily drunk widow at table fourteen, and me. Why hadn't I left earlier, why hadn't I jumped out a window when Heero was busy guarding the door against my ungainly retreat? Why hadn't I shoved my way through the door with a loud and disruptive "GREAT PARTY!" or something similar, nothing drew a crowd faster than a hustled argument with one spectacularly noisy party.
But now there was nowhere to run, no potted plants to hide behind, and I doubt the woman slouched over her chair is interested in a quick dance so I can escape my best friend. Like all-too-familiar iron shackles Heero clapped a hand on my shoulder, "Thank you." He said, I didn't turn around, and so he tried again. "You weren't smiling during the ceremony…?"
"Oh really?" I tried to be causal, I really hadn't noticed, I might have been smiling, frowning, snoring, my tongue could have been sticking out and my eyes might have been crossed, my face was not the foremost feature on my mind. "I'm sorry… I hope it didn't show up on the video."
"Duo… I…" Did he feel awful? Wasn't it perfectly appropriate, I wish I felt better about it, I really wish I liked watching him suffer.
"You are an idiot Heero Yuy." I said, and stalked out.
I apologize
If it makes you feel bad
Seeing me so tense
No self-confidence
I tried, I tried I really did. I wanted to get away with the last shreds of my dignity and sanity intact. I wanted to go home and melt into a particularly nasty stain on the carpeting; I just wanted to be out of there. Away from fancy cathedrals, away from extravagant reception halls, away from the endless bouquets of white roses and lavender.
I made it down the elevator before I started to knaw on my lower lip, and I made it out the door before I bit my fingers to bloodiness trying not to scream.
But you see
The winner takes it all
Half way to my car, there was a strained giggle from the side of the building. If I was a cat, I may have welcomed it, but curiosity hardly kills humans, and I snuck a peek at the side of the building in the vine trellis where a bellboy and the bride hastily wiped her too-pink lipstick from their mouths and necks.
"Oh, Relena." I said flatly, fancy running into you here. The perfected smile was back, just a flash of tooth, the deep set dimple showing up just enough so as not to be sarcastic. After this it was back to the apartment that was suddenly only mine, and a stolen bottle of champagne that was definitely only mine. "Congratulations."
The winner takes it all...
The End.
A/N: Okay, I daresay it was going to be a tad bit different, but something about me just won't let politics take a back seat, and it won't let couples that are 'financially good' or 'influentially good' for each other be happy. Dies If it sucks after page four, it sucks after page four. I tried fixing the mistakes, but that's how it goes.