The Only
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd be in a bed full of them being very happy. :D
Warnings: None. Not yet. Just read.
Summary: AU, OOC, Angst, A pilot has forced himself to stop feeling any emotions and has become reckless and careless about his own mortality. He is searching for something, for what he does not know just yet.
Drops of rain splattered on every available surface as the dark rolling sky above dumped its weight upon the world beneath it. The wind was silent and it was a good thing too. Visibility was little to none because of the power outage. Their wasn't even thunder and lightning to break the monotonous pounding of the rain and the cold black night. The only reason that I could navigate the back alleys without a problem avoiding the thieves in the process was because not too long ago I was one of them. But that was long ago. Memories that were forced to fade away. A different time of life.
I really had no reason to do this. Why should I? The person whom I was seeking wanted nothing to do with me, wanted me to stay away. This person probably would not even think twice about putting a knife to my throat. Why am I doing this? I still do not know. This area of the city was bad enough in broad daylight, let alone in the pitch black of the night. The darkness closed in and completely surrounded me, as if it wanted to swallow me whole. The rain had plastered my jacket to my skin doing little to protect me. My hair was a matted mess, a complete rats nest that would take hours to comb out. That is, if I lived long enough to be able to comb it out.
I sighed as I made my way around a fallen trash can and ruined boxes that was meant to block the path I needed to take. He must know that I am following him by now. It's not like I am hiding myself or even bothering not to be seen by him. The rest of the scum here are loathe to mess with me, if only he knew why. Not like it would make a difference. His arrogance will be his failing. Thinking that he could take me easily. As if I was some young thing new to this world and this kind of life on the streets. Still, I must find him before it is too late.
If he made it to who I think has called him, I have no chance. I laugh bitterly, the sound needing to be forced past my lips. I'm thinking about how short my life my will become as I walk on through the fast becoming flooded side streets. Up ahead I know there is an old abandoned church. One that was so old that most of the ceiling was caved in and gone. The walls were covered in obscene graffiti, slime and scum from many years of neglect. The floors were stripped bare and there were few remaining pews. The place still held some kind of allure for the young and lost though.
I can not enter there, but that is where he will be as he waits. The monster that will call him can not enter either, but that makes no difference. I am close now. The rain has let up slightly and has allowed my eyes to adjust to the darkness as I take off the black glasses that I always wear. The yard surrounding the dilapidated building is almost a swamp considering the overgrown weeds and sinkholes full of muck and water. If you tripped and fell between the outer edges of the yard and the door of the building, there was a good chance that you would not make it back out. Good thing I used to travel through here years ago.
This is strange. I am at the edge of the yard, but there is a wire fence surrounding the perimeter topped with razor wire. Somebody is up to no good here. On closer inspection I can see that the fence is made to look "pretty". More of a ruse than as to keep people out. The bottom of the fence is not grounded. I can see how the youth are getting in. I sigh again at their stupidity. I know that the one I am after is too good for this. Too good and way too smart.
But he doesn't want me here, I have to force myself to remember this, trying to keep this at the front of my thoughts as I wriggle my way under the fence. I hear a door creak and I glance up ahead. The one that I was following gives me a smirk as he slips inside. Maybe he does know who I am, or at least an idea. That might not be a good thing, or maybe it will turn out to help me in the long run. But not if they have gotten to him. If they have and he knows who I am then he might know how to stop me, to kill me. I may have lived longer than most without believing in any specific diety, but I would still like to keep my life and live it out as I wish, thank you very much.
I put my glasses back on, forcing my eyes to adjust again. The rain has all but let up, clearing the sky slowly. The power outage must have ended. Flickering lights pushed into the the fog rising from the ground trying to reach through the darkness seeking out the things that would rather remain hidden than be shown. The push and pull of the building flowed over the little exposed skin that I have let show, sending tingling spikes along my spine. It's almost painful as I aproach this thing called a church. I search my head, through the fog of fading memories, trying to rationalise why I am here. I know that I might very well die from just being near here, let alone trying to save somebody who doesn't want my help.
I figure maybe a part of me thinks/feels that I have lived long enough. I seem to tempt fate by being careless these past couple of weeks. It's as if I just don't care. I think that if it came down to it, I would fight to preserve my own life, but what if I just gave up? Could I really just let myself be killed, or walk away from a situation that I know I should do something about? Memories of my past threaten to overwhelm me. I don't need this right now. Sorrow, pain, depression, all of them trying to swallow me and block out any other feelings that I may have at the moment. Feelings? When was the last time that I had actually let myself feel something? It has been so long. The pain was so great from before that I have forced myself to feel nothing. Nothing had made its way through until recently.
Recently He showed up. On one of my careless adventures, as I have come to call them, wandering through the slums of the city daring the killers and thieves to come out of hiding and try something. Maybe I do want to test my mortality. I pick and poke at those that would love to end my life, or take me in as their own and change my ways. I know that I have gotten myself out of that kind of life. I am not sure why I am going back, I am better than that. Will my arrogance be my failing? I wonder. But, this one was alone. He had no idea of the danger he was in from me being near. I could have taken him so quickly, so quietly. But he turned around just as I was moving in towards him. I knew he couldn't see me, but he knew somebody or something was there. It would have been so easy. Then I saw those eyes. The eyes that made me lose concentration and show myself.
He had gasped when he saw me. Well, I would have to, if I was still young and naive about the darker things of the streets. It must have seemed to him that I appeared from nowhere, but there I was, stupid enough to let him see me. I was struck silent by those questioning eyes that seemed to want answers to questions instead of running when he knew he should. I knew he was scared, who wouldn't be? He must not know the old saying that curiousity killed the cat. He was not a cat and I was not going to kill him, not anymore. I reached out, almost touching him. He didn't pull away. It was almost as if he wanted me to touch him, which made me want to pull him into my arms even more. Take him and run away and try to forget who I am and where I had found him.
He glanced down at my hand seeing how different it was than his own. My fingernails were long and sharp looking more like claws than human fingers. My skin was a pale milky white. The streetlamp seemed to reflect off my skin that night. I figured that I would be ok, that he was just young and stupid, but so darn beautiful, almost painfully so. Then he saw it. The marking on my wrist that I've had for years. The mark that was almost of legend. Everybody knew about it, just not exactly what it entails and what those like me went through to be marked that way. More myth, lies, and rumors than truth surrounded that mark, but how was he supposed to know. He was just like hundreds of others trying to scratch out a living on these filthy streets.
His eyes narrowed and he snarled at me as he quickly backed away. As he turned his head I saw a mark. One entirely different from my own, but his was a temporary one. It was barely showing under the mop of messy uncombed hair. Unlike him, I knew what his meant. He had been called and he was a wanted man and because of that his life was to come to an extremely violent end. How can I let such beauty die in such a way. Seeing the way he reacted to me almost broke something inside of me...almost.
"Get away from me," he had said in a low growl. I was not to speak to him. That would have been worse than letting him see me. I could still take him away from all this. Make us both forget. That thought had startled me. Since when did I let a mere man get the better of me?
"You are better than them," I try to tell him, breaking my own rule.
"How would you know, street daemon?" he snarled at me.
"There is no such thing. I should know. No such thing as angels, demons, or God," I say. "But I can make you forget."
"You know of nothing," he had said and turned to walk away.
The way he carried himself told of self confidence, but I had seen his eyes. Eyes that cried out to the world around him pleading to be released, to be saved from the realities of this world. I saw this and for the first time in so many years I felt something pull inside of me. From that moment on, I watched him, followed him. He sensed me always, but there was nothing I could do. He made it quite clear that he wanted me to stay away. He had even gone as far as to ask questions about me, trying to find information about me. He may have found enough to destroy me, that is what I am concerned about, but not particularly worried.
Yanked out of my memories and into the present I make my way to a window that no longer contained any glass. The mud grabbed at my boots and pant legs as if to keep me from going farther. The smell of rotting vegetation and decomposing flesh assaulted my nose making me want to sneeze and gag. I look up and see that the clouds have cleared and there were stars few and far between the blackness of the sky. I am careful not to touch any part of the building as I glance through the hole. If possible, the inside was darker than the streets I had just walked through. I can sense movement, but could hear nothing. I am risking everything that I have left of myself by being here. I tell myself that it is necessary, but that even seems to have lost its power in my mind.
I would think that if I didn't believe that a God existed that I could enter this building. I don't understand why I can't. If there was a God there is no way I would be who I am. I know this for a fact. How could a God let me live and let me kill time and time again without regret? I have started to wonder if there is something out there that will make me regret anything or if there is a being that will force me to regret, force me to think of all the things that I have done. Is there somebody out there that could control me? Keep me from doing the things I do? Perhaps that is what I am searching for. For somebody to control who and what I am.
I have no right to be here. This is his time. How am I supposed to know what he believes in? Some actually take solace in whatever faith they have in a church or at least what it is supposed to stand for. I sigh because I miss that feeling. The feeling of believing in something other than myself. Something bigger than me. It used to make me have a feeling of safeness. That I'm not this insignificant being that doesn't make a difference the the whole scheme of things. I have since then learned differently. There is no reason to depend on something other than yourself. If you become dependant on some faith, you will become sorely disapointed.
Something moved inside the room closest to me. I held my breath hoping that he is not there planning to kill me. If the other was anywhere near, I should have felt him by now. But I could sense nothing, which was almost worse. A minute passed before I started to let out the breath I was holding. Another couple of minutes passed before I started to let myself relax just the slightest bit. That's when he decided to show himself. Instead of turning on one of the few lights that remained in the building, he lit a lantern and held it out if front of him, blinding me for a moment and making it difficult for my eyes to adjust to the new light and see him. He was a mere foot away from me.
"What are you doing here daemon?" he hissed at me. He felt bold and safe. He must have known that I could not enter. Seeing him act like this set my blood on fire and I had to reign in my anger.
"You have no right to call me that. Lower that light," I demand from behind my arm that I had thrown up to shield my eyes. Miracle of miracles he does as I tell him to. The light had hurt more than it should, even with my glasses on. This makes me wonder.
"What's the matter? Can't come in here?" he asks with a cocky sneer. His mop of hair hanging almost to his eyes in a messy fashion and hanging down his neck below his ears. Even in a sneer, I can see how full his lips are and just a shade from red. His face was angular but all the edges were soft, almost boyish. I couldn't see his eyes. He had them hidden behind a pair of black glasses...like me. He couldn't be completely changed, he was inside. This can't be good. I decide not to answer him and this seems to make him angry. I concentrate and blend into the darkness behind me, stepping away from the window.
"Daemon! Show yourself!" he all but shouted. I could see him hold the lantern out the window, trying to find me. I want to laugh. So, he does not know much about me. Good.
"I told you that you have no right to call me that," I say to him. My voice was harsh from not speaking at all for days. My throat tried to constrict and keep the words from passing my cracked lips. I move along the side of the building, heading back to the window, coming from his right. Moving swiftly, I managed to grab the lantern from his hand and turned it off. He swore violently, backing away from the window. "What are you doing here?" I call to him.
"You know of nothing," he shouted towards me, his anxiety showing in his voice. I laugh. It held no humor, held nothing but cruelness.
"The young and stupid know of nothing," I tell him.
"Show yourself. Your true self," he demanded. I try not to laugh at this. He wouldn't live if he saw me for what I really am. I really rather it not come to that and I told him so. He just answered with a snort. I sighed again. I seem to be doing a lot of that today. I set the lantern on the ground at my feet and turn it on very low. I release my concentration and once again, I seem to appear from nowhere. The object of my obsession comes to the window. I can see him clearly. His whole body speaks of curiosity, pleading for knowledge he knows that is forbidden. Shivers run through my spine as I decide to do this. My true self or not, he will decide what he wants from what he sees. Nobody has ever lived after seeing my eyes. I haven't let anybody live, or remember what they have seen. I stand tall and face him.
"Remove your glasses," he says softly.
"Of course, Heero Yuy," I say.
A/N: Yes, I know that it was very different from what I usually write. I know that there are a couple of you that have me on author alert. Please forgive me for not updating my other story, I got this idea stuck in my head. And please, please let me know if I should continue this, or just let it go.