Duo 21

by Nix Winter

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, Coptic markers, or string theory, but as all of them are highly cool, I use them all a lot. Thank you Universe!

Chapter Four

He was a slender man in his late twenties, give or take. Dark hair, a deep chestnut color with lighter sun streaks, framed his face, hung down his back in a very long ponytail. He wore jeans that knew his body well, the strong legs now quite comfortable with Earth gravity. With one hand he set the wedge of wood up on the stump. Muscles rippled as he shifted the axe back and brought it down hard, making kindling.

Three winters running he'd done enough wood for his cabin and his neighbors It kept his mind off...things, off things he couldn't undo. He had long since lost the pale skin of a spacer. Besides Duo Maxwell wasn't really alone. He had ghosts.

Once upon a time enemies had come wi mecha and explosives. Then they got much more dangerous and stole the hearts of the ones a person loved dearest.

"You should put that axe in your leg, hit an artery," Heero's ghost snarled "You're not my Duo! I hate you!"

Duo flipped the ghost the bird and set up another wedge. 'You're not my Heero either and I right back at you, Shithead.' he knew the ghost would hear him.

He'd been a Preventer the last time he'd spoken and he and Heero had been working a missing person case. The suspect had been a government scientist. Duo didn't understand what the hell the creep had been trying or even wishing for. String theory, 'branes', dimensions - shit - he was a steel ran and a death god, but none of the school's they'd checked themselves into had gotten much past trajectories and lightwave mechanics. That last was likely due to needing to work with Deathscythe than pass some class.

If he'd learned more of something maybe he'd have been able to save Heero. On days when the ghost was really active not even chopping helped and it was only a matter of time until he could hear his own last words, "Heero! Stop! I love you!"

"You're only going to screw everything up. We just need this last one. Then everything will balance. I thought you loved me." The ghost didn't even sound like a ghost.

After not a word in five years, the sound of his own voice startled himself "I don't love you, Shithead. I love the real Heero. The one you made me kill."

"Killing's so easy, once you get started, isn't it?" The ghost kicked a bit of kindling and it actually moved. "But you understand how that goes, don't you Shinigami?"

The back door of the cabin seemed like it was light years away. Dozens of bits of kindling shook on the ground and Duo dropped the axe and sprinted towards the open door. The ghost always became stronger on the anniversary of Heero's death, but that was nineteen days away still.

Duo took the stairs in one leap and slammed the door just as a rain of kindling hit against his cabin wall. "Leave me alone! I'm sorry! Why can't I have my Heero back? Stupid universe!" He clenched his eyes shut and tried to force away the feeling that the world was going to end, end very badly, and it wasn't the first time.

Outside, the ghost was on his knees, a hand wrapped around some necklace at his throat, his face locked in a grimace, small pointy fangs showing. "Duo-shan-nar, I'm not going to make it back. I'm going to fail!"

Heero woke, a long lazy waking, which in itself was odd enough to make him think about it as an event. The pillow under his cheek still smelled of Duo, still just slightly off, but his Duo, nonetheless. People change with time, maybe. Sometimes. If they'd been through a lot and his Duo had been and come back from more than someplace.

Also slightly clinging to the air, sulfur lingered. Heero was sure it was sulfur and that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He wanted everything to be fine, to be right, to be finished. No more war. No more killing. Just life and Duo. Maybe they could adopt a child, one of the orphans that Duo had always visited or maybe they could take in a whole orphanage. Something to keep Duo busy and far away from Preventers and any missions that Quatre might need help on.

Heero moved, sliding out of the bed with a predatory ease that was more like his war days than recent days. His body was hard still, the lines down his stomach smooth and deep, his arms no longer a skinny boy's but those of a man who could break bones when he wanted to. Not that he hadn't always been able to do that with the augmentation, but now he looked the part.

The scent of sulfur was stronger near the foot of the bed and the way the plush of the carpet twisted, the way the dresser was just slightly off center from when they'd gone to bed, Heero was sure that there had been a hand to hand melee between sleeping and waking. He hadn't done it, and if he had, he would have put things right, so that meant Duo had fought someone, or something.

Answers were prime on Heero's mind, but then he stepped into the hall and Duo's head leaned back from the kitchen. Grinning like sunshine that went all the way to violet eyes, chocolate eyebrows wiggled and Heero forgot all about questions and answers. When Duo ducked back into the kitchen, Heero ran, panicked that he'd be gone in the few steps it took to make it to the kitchen.

He wasn't though, and standing there in a baggy white tee-shirt, holding a plate of pancakes powdered white with powdered sugar and melting butter. "Shidae nicvin," Duo said, then bit his lip, "Good morning, Heero."

"Good morning, Duo," Heero said and those were the most beautiful words he'd ever said in his life. Impossibly happy, as if the very core of his being could twist and shift, fold in on itself and magically become new and bright. He would do anything to protect Duo, anything. He'd kill the whole world, anything if it dared hurt his love. "I love you, Duo Maxwell."

With one hand, Heero took the plate and moved it towards the counter. With the other he touched dark hair, fingers softly skimming over the living warmth that came from his Duo.

Duo melted into the embrace, arms going around Heero's neck, lips parting as the kiss began, soft and hard, speaking a language beyond words. Heero surveyed Duo's mouth, then owned it, mission accomplished and he would possess his love forever.

Note: I'll update soon! I promise, and I'll have a pic I did of Heero the ghost inked and colored tonight to put up on my journal at www(dot)velvetunicorn(dot)co(dot)uk