It was the sound that kept him. The sound of it just kept him where he was, unable to move, to breathe. It was almost like coming home, almost orgasmic in nature, in a darker sense. It was something that made his flesh crawl, and his blood heat.
It was the time between that brilliant flash in the dark and the shocked realization that kept him here, prisoner as it were. The glint of light, dazzling in its brevity. But forever captured was the shock, the resignation- the fear. How could he--?
He could because he did. He did because he had to. And why did he have to? That was the question they all asked. None were satisfied by the answer.
"He came too close."
They all wanted to know, why did he do it? Why? What did they miss? How could this have happened? Why did he do this awful thing to his own lover? Why did he kill him? Why why why why why why…?
"He was too close…"
Too close to what, they asked. Too close to you? Too close to the truth? To the answers, or to the lies? Was he too close physically? Mentally?
"He was too close, and he knew it."
What was he saying?
"Heero knew it, and now he's dead."
It was the sound of the knife, that solid thunk, the heavy wet sound. The gurgle, the last breath.
It was the time between waking and sleeping, that edge that was so hard to understand. Heero had lived long enough with him to know not to tempt fate. But what was Heero at heart? A daredevil.
It was the sight of his lover's blood, coating his hands, his face bathed in red heat. The sight of Heero's eyes as he realized what his fatal mistake was. Sure, he was the ultimate fighting machine, trained for years to become what he was. But one miscalculation can throw a whole life away.
"He knew not to get so close…"
But Heero had, and now, Duo had to live with it.
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"Duo, wake up love. It's only a dream."
A soft heat, a warm sensation. Love. He smiled. It was only a dream then, an awful dream in which he had stabbed his lover, a fatal heart wound.
"Heero, I had this awful dream…"
His eyes open, unseeing. A glint, a flash of light reflected on sharp steel. A sound, the wet noise of a confirmed hit. Target down.
"No…" Horror dawning. "It was just a dream, you said so!"
"I said a lot of things love. Before you killed me."
Duo's eyes wide with fear and loathing. The reflected light from the moon on his blade, flashing again and again. Reliving the moment.
It was the sound that kept him, and the time between waking and realization that made him cry as never before.
-----------------
"He's catatonic. He responds to stimuli, but he's not all there if you get my meaning."
Sally Po, shaking from the news still. She hadn't ever really known the boys, but they were comrades, and they had won the war. And now one was in the morgue and the other in the psych ward.
"He'll be fortunate to regain full mental capacities in the near future. Hell, he'll be lucky to feed himself."
Sally shook her head, asking what was on all of their minds.
"Does he know what he's done, or why he did it?"
The doctor took her to the room, opened the door and let her watch as he struggled, again and again and again, to come out of his waking dream.
"He got too close and I killed him. Heero, you said it was a dream… You said it was a dream… You said it was a…"
-----------------
Heero's eyes, gone from deep blue to gunmetal gray, staring at him accusingly.
"Why Duo?"
A choking whisper, startled and scared.
"Because Heero."
A hand, cold and dead, on his face, caressing his skin.
"Why Duo?"
Tears, hot against the chilled skin.
"I love you Heero."
A kiss from cold lips, one on each wrist.
"Why Duo?"
A stuttering breath, slow and unsteady.
"Please Heero…"
"Why Duo?"
"Please Heero, stop asking me…"
"Why Duo?"
A whimper.
"Why?"
A whisper: "You woke me up…"