Author's Note: Okay, here we are at part three. But this isn't going to be a three part piece anymore, though. Noooooooo way. Nuh-uh. More than three. At this point, I really don't have a clue about where this story is going to end. But, hey... I guess this isn't a super serious writing exercise or anything, so whatever. Brain farting and all. I don't know. Review if you feel like it. And please, feel free to liberally suggest any future plot ideas. All I really have is, that Duo is tottering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. (OO;)
anyway...Thanks!
WARNING SIGNS (part III) One step back
By Onions Make Me Cry
- Come on in /
I've got to tell you what a state I'm in /
I've gotta tell you in my loudest tone /
that I started looking for a warning sign.-
From this height, just about anything hitting the ground could potentially become liquified.
You know, like jell-o splattering all over a walkway. Watching the ground from so high up, despite the rapid pace at which my body is approaching it, I can't help weird thoughts like that. It doesn't seem to matter that I'm plummeting towards my imminent and painful demise at all. Whatever. I'm strange huh? I mean, I could be thinking about a load of other more important stuff. Like, getting a wind burn. Or, you know, did I put any suntan lotion on today? Or, if my fleshy human body were to hit one of those trees over there, would part of me remain stuck in the branches, and other parts of me do the jell-o thing? What kinds of animals would come to feast on the remains of my eviscerated corpse? I don't know. So far up in the atmosphere, I get kind of high. Less oxygen here, you know. Lucky my nose hasn't exploded or anything yet. Because a nose bleed could potentially be pretty messy at this altitude.
My feet are in the sky now. All I can see in the wide expanse of azure which makes up the dome of the world. Distant spots above me denote a battle still in progress, but I've opted out of that situation, just now. The suit I jacked was almost trashed anyway. So I jumped. So what? I'm a big boy. I can make my own damn decisions. And, fuck you Heero, for telling me otherwise. You and your cocky fucking attitude. Like you can tell me what to do. You can shove that up your ass, for all I care. Nobody but me's been there in forever anyway. It would be a change of scenery for once. Besides, I like toying with this idea of death. You of all people should be able to relate. Fucking adrenaline junky.
The wind whistling past me blots out any kind of sound other than the shrill banshee whistle of air rocketing around my figure. But I can still feel the explosions in the distance. They make my bones shake, and deep inside my chest quivers at each impact, as they send wave after wave through the air. Wing I can still see though. It's bigger than most suits, and is easy to pinpoint, even from a distance. Wing is a spark, bright against the blue of the sky, and somewhere deep inside the bowels of that foul beast is a monster ten thousand times more terrifying than the suit itself. The pace at which Heero is tearing through the enemy convinces me he's pissed as hell. Probably at me mouthing off to him before I made my exit.
Hey, at least we'll win the battle.
The ground is getting closer now, and with and experienced jerk, I flip back over. I'm upright, and I can see the green and tan clarifying into specific patches of wilderness and road. With a swift tug to the canvas tab strapped around my torso, my parachute unfolds into the air and my body comes to an abrupt, jerky stop. Ah, modern miracles of science. I guess I don't have the opportunity to die today. (It's so boring when everything goes according to plan.)
Strips of flesh along my chest begin to throb from where the straps are digging into me, as my com system, suspended by my left ear, blinks to life. It screams like a dying duck.
"Wak wak wak!" I shout at the thing, imitating it as I crane my neck to inspect the face. A few of the buttons are flashing red, and I have an ominous feeling about who might be on the other side. With hesitation, I flick down the receive switch.
/"DUO!"/ Heero's voice explodes from the mini com's thin speaker slats, and I flinch at the tone. Pissed as Hell may have been an understatement. /"Were you the one who swore to God and to me that you'd never pull a stunt like that ever again, or weren't you?"/
"Err.." The wind is coasting me nicely along, and I don't really feel like arguing all that much right now. The scenery up here is too pretty. "That must have been someone else." the vague reply pussyfoots around the issue, and even alone, suspended thousands of feet in the open air with nobody to look at me, I subconsciously try to pass an innocent expression.
/"God damn it, Duo-"/
"Alright, alright! Jesus Christ!" I cut in, before he has a chance to build up any steam. So much for the ignorance shtick. "I'm sorry! I won't do it again! But come on, man, what else was I supposed to do? I was halfway to hell! My suit was totally thrashed."
/"You could have called for back up."/
"On your right." craning my neck, I peer up at the battle scene still taking place.
/"I see them."/ he slashes at an approaching formation, and they scatter like frightened children. /"Don't be a backseat driver."/
"I'm in a parachute."
/"Just, don't do it again. Convene back at the safehouse."/
Feeling the welling distaste of bitterness in the back of my mouth, I mutely shake my head. Shit, maybe I do feel like arguing.
"And what if I say no to that, Heero? What are you going to do?" the cocky tone burns the back of my throat as it comes up. "I dunno, what if I feel like going scavenging or something instead? You never fucking bother to consult me! I'm not your subordinate, man. I'm not even your partner! We, my friend, have a loose affiliation with one another under a common wartime goal. Not to mention I fuck you. Me, Heero. I. Fuck. You. How'd you like them apples, huh?"
/"we're in a war. Don't be a child."/ he's gritting his teeth. I don't have to hear it to tell.
"Whatever, Heero. You know, I'm so tired of your superiority bullshit. Just because you're crazier than the rest of us doesn't grant you the inherent right to boss everyone around." As the words tumble out of my mouth, growing in passion and fervor, I realize they feel good. I know I'm exaggerating, but a lot of my tirade is based in actual fact, so it's easy to spill. "And you sure as hell don't have a carte blanche to order my ass around. So fuck you, you arrogant bastard! I'm not having sex with you tonight!"
Whacking the front of the mini com with my fist, the signal fizzles out. Okay, so maybe I ended it a little lamely, but I still know Heero'll be royally pissed when I see him next. Whatever. I'm not up to groveling at his feet in apology right now anyway. I mean, so what if he was worried about me? About my safety? Who needs that? If I needed a mom, I'd go see Quatre.
Above me, the throbbing aftershock of the explosions of battle rain down on my head, and my ribs quiver. Now that the wind is out of my ears, I can hear the explosions as well... they're terrifying.
Unclipping myself six feet above the hard-packed dirt of the earth, I make my landing on my own two feet.
The dream is always the same.
I'm a kid again. Maybe four, or possibly five at most? I don't really remember that age very well, but for some reason, in my dream I can see everything about me in precise detail, down to my grubby fingernails, and the holes in the elbows of my jacket. In my dream, I'm with my mother. She, on the other hand, is a complete mystery. I see a curtain of soft, brown hair, and violet-blue eyes like my own, but I can't tell what she's wearing, or, even if she's smiling. She swoops down low and picks me up, to bolster me on her wide hip, and I see a warm, narrow room. The brick of the walls are a dingy, dirty red, but the floor is swept, and in the corner a warm fire is burning in a real hearth.
Heero is there. The one I know today. Squatting on a little wooden bench, he leans over on careful elbows, propped on his knees, and tangling his fingers together he stares contemplatively into the fire.
I'm a little older now, maybe ten, and I'm standing on the ledge of a corporate business building on Earth. The sky stretches above me, a wide expanse of blue scoured clean of all clouds.
"It's an omen." I say to Solo, who suddenly is standing at my side. He looks at me, his face full of an innocence that hurts to see.
"What's that?"
"Idunno. But Wufei says it a lot."
"Who?"
"He's part of my pretend family." I point behind us. An elaborate dinner party has been laid out on a long table, complete with delicate tablecloth and fine china. Around the table sit my friends, with Heero sitting sternly at the head. Quatre tiptoes around everyone's chairs, pouring wine and smiling, as conversation bubbles up into a pleasant din in the background. Trowa and Wufei tilt their heads together, and point at me.
"See?" I demand of Solo. But when I turn, all I can see is a pile of dirt. The confusion takes the child half of me, and I walk away, noting the muddy footprints which lead off the side of the building.
It was waking from such a dream that I found myself alone for the first time in months. But then again, this was the first time in months that I'd bothered to sleep outside of a city.
The motel room screams 1977, brown and moldy like the ancient remains of a slaughtered cow. Faintly, the TV offers snatches of dialogue turned down low from the morning news, and a series of dour faces flash across the fuzzy screen. Other than that though, from my sprawl across the musty sheets, silence surrounds me. For the first few moments of wakefulness, I make like a cadaver and pretend to be a discarded shell, my right leg trailing carelessly over the edge of the bed- but the game doesn't last long. I have an itch. I can also feel the slightly moist plush of the carpeting just underneath my big toe, and I know it must have rained while I slept. The smell of warping and expanding wood lingers stagnantly in my nose, and I have to scratch again.
I figure, I could punch a hole through any of these cheap balsa walls if I really wanted to, but at last, turning on my side, the faces in the wood grain change my mind. Old faced gentlemen stare at me from all angles, their mouths forming round knots of sorrow frozen in time.
/Get up, Duo. Go to work./ thoughts waft past, like mold spores. /You've got to get a car. Or a bike, at least. You've got to jump your bill./
It's strange here, so quiet. I haven't slept alone in a long time. Either Heero was there, or I was sharing a mission with one of the guys. I mean, I can take care of myself and all, no doubt about it, but... I don't know. You get used to a warm body nearby, and when it's gone, you sort of begin to analyze all the reasons why you liked it in the first place. Strangely, I'm kinda weirded out by the isolation. But what's worse than that, is that I'm weirded out about being weirded out.
And I'm also getting a major headache.
By the time the landlord rings my room phone at 11:00, I've shimmied out of the narrow bathroom window, and have cracked the lock on his storage garage. His motorcycle is mine in a matter of minutes.
Body fluids are a funny thing. You use 'em for sex, and for taking a wizz, and for lubricating your eyeballs. They have an infinite number of uses. We, as a protein rich carbon based species, can rot that excellently because of our body juices. They do everything for us, while asking very little in return. For example, blood clotting. Like when you have a disastrous and potentially life-threatening stomach laceration which may or may not have struck a major organ or six. All your body really needs is a few stitches, right? And a miracle from the lord above, but, whatever.
The wind is whistling in my ears again as I race down the road on the pilfered motorcycle, and away from the scene of my latest crime. Though, I can't tell anymore whether or not the bees in my head are still humming. Everything is a daze now, stars all concealed by the ominous trees which loom over me in the dark. Night is a dangerous time for driving, especially when you have a stomach wound significant enough to dry you out like a dehydrated apple slice.
So I goofed. But I never thought any of my missions would ever be anything less than a bitch. And I've had worse than this, before, I think. So, whatever. I'll live, right? I tell myself that very thing, over and over like a burial chant as the wind whisks away what warmth the blood soaking down my side and into my pants offers. Fuck me, I'm an idiot sometimes.
The scenery in front of me is beginning to go wonky, and I shake my head to clear the undulation from my vision. I've got to drive, here. I'm also almost positive that it isn't this dark for real, but, maybe things are different than in the city somehow, or on a colony. I haven't had a lot of experience with the whole Earth thing, and sometimes, Mother Nature, (that fucking cunt) can throw me for a loop.
Like, oh, now. Logs, fallen across the path. Should I, like, slow down or something? Or, I dunno, stop? But that would be crazy. I'm going to the safehouse. I can't think straight. Everything is a memory of a memory outside of myself. I'm somehow, detached. What did I eat for breakfast? I smell burning rubber, am I breaking? I don't know what that lever down there does anymore, but I feel like, at some point I used to know. Huh. It sure is cold out tonight, will my puke freeze midair when I spill my intestines inside-out across this earthy path? I wonder what Heero is doing.
I hit the logs, hard, and go flying. When I slam into the hard-packed earth, I begin to tumble, bright flashes of pain shooting out in the neutral abyss like blossoms of fire as I strike the rocks along the incline. I'm rolling downhill. The information tries to force it's way up, lukewarm like a dull emanation from deep inside the cavernous hollow of a seashell- But I can't quite reach it. I'm losing a battle for the first time, and can't even possess myself to be pissed off about it. What's up with that? I guess the shock kind of chucked me out of my mind already. Blood loss can be tricky like that sometimes, huh? Fuck me.
It's only when my body rolls into open air that I go black.
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Author's Note II: Ah-hahah! Take that bitches! Hmm, no, actually, it probably isnt all that exciting. I didn't like this chapter too much. (o.o;) Anyhoo, plot suggestions? Please please please yes thank you please - stick 'em in the review section. Anyway,thanks!
ps.(Song quotes at the beginning are Coldplay, btw.)
