POSTED: 8/28/00
REVISED: 12/27/00
AUTHOR: Jay / carboxylated@yahoo.com
ARCHIVE: Gundam Wing Addiction (Tyr), Desolation Angels (Ashura, if
she wants it)
[Full fiction index @ http://www.geocities.com/fenris_wolf0]
Disclaimer: Scroll down (invariably at the bottom)
Title: Eden
Category: AU, yaoi, shonen ai, angst, horror
Timeline: Adapted Post-EW (Treize is alive to serve my purposes...
^^)
Pairings: 1+2, 3+4, 5+13, 6+9
Rating/Warning: R. Violent, and graphic descriptions of what is best
describe as "icky" situations. AU somewhat confusing, especially with flashbacks
and whatnot. YAOI = little anime boys snuggling. You've been warned.
Feedback: Craved, desired, wanted, coveted, yearned for, wished for,
and longed for. C&C will be repaid with dancing G-boys, my endless
adoration, as well as a nice slice of karma.
/... .../ = thoughts
Heero scrubbed his hands furiously, his body shaking. "I need to get it out," he muttered. "I couldn't even do anything. Froze like a deer in his headlights."
"It's okay." Duo's voice was calm, assuaging all fears. Something crept into his mind; a lazy thought emerged, vicious and sharp. /I don't believe you've ever seen him so frightened. He's killed hundreds, walked with Death, bathed in the blood of the innocent and the guilty... this was just one death, a random killing.../
"Why?"
"I don't know..."
They sat on their bed, afraid to move. Duo made soothing sounds. Something in his mind still itched, like an old, familiar memory that was resurfacing.
"Duo?"
"Yes, koi?"
"I remembered," Heero whispered brokenly. "I-- remember it."
"What? Remember what?"
"All times he'd killed me. Dying."
Quatre snuggled against Trowa. Really, this was so nice... just himself, Trowa, and the other scattered couples in the dark room. He could hear the sound of smacking flesh and wet kisses, and he suppressed the urge to giggle again.
"Trowa?"
"Yes, Quatre?" Trowa's voice was stiff and uneasy. Being neither an exhibitionist nor a voyeur, the entire situation-- a mass of sprawled bodies in the hooded dark-- made him uncomfortable.
"Are you okay?"
Trowa sighed, defeated again. "Yes." He leaned down to kiss Quatre, and firmly grasped his lover's hand. When palm met palm, Quatre felt a little faint, like he was freefalling into...
...war.
"My love?" He whispered those words with cracked lips.
The green-eyed boy-- Thane, his name was Thane-- lay beside him, gripping his hand. "Darling," he murmured.
/No! Trowa...?/
There was something wrong about him, though; there was something wrong with the way he lay there, like a broken doll...
/Something's missing,/ he thought. /But... what is my name?/
"Is this-- the end?" The words caught in his throat.
/Quatre? Familiar, but not now, not here... here he was.../
"There is no end for us."
/He was *Reyhan*[1]. Someone, something entirely different./
"But--"
"Hush, little one. 'That whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.'"
"We give our lives to Him, gladly."
"How touching," a cold voice observed. "It seems you two can still talk. We'll remedy that."
Quatre felt like screaming; hearing that voice was like the ultimate betrayal, from family... from brother...
"Brother," he cried. "Why do you do this?"
"I am taking what is rightfully mine."
The green-eyed boy-- Trowa? Thane?-- shook his head. "It will never be yours. And you cannot destroy us. Only the force that propels the universe may destroy us, brother." He was a warrior to the end.
/The bitter end. No, no, there is no end.../
"And if that force dies?"
"It will never die!"
"Look, little brothers, into the sky... look!"
The sky was ablaze with flame and fire, littered with crimson and scarlet clouds, and stars fell... no... not stars, but...
Quatre tried to scream, but couldn't. The sky was turning black and red... rolling waves of-- blinding light-- an apocalyptic swirl, like the heavens had caught on fire.
"How could you betray us?" His voice was pained with thick emotion. "How? He loved you! We loved you!"
"Sleep, little brothers." The voice crooned.
Something pierced his hand, through skin and flesh and bone--
/Bone? I don't remember--/
--and through the mossy-eyed boy's, his lover, his Thane--
/Is it Trowa?/
--his hand, too. Blood welled up from the wound. He felt a mouth, licking, drinking, and consuming his life's blood as he lay dying, broken in ways he couldn't fathom.
"Trowa?" His voice cracked. "I... no..."
"What was that, little one?"
"This place is... it's triggering things... it... the hopelessness... pain..."
Trowa held the shaking boy in his arms, hoping to disguise his own trembling.
"Where are we, little one?"
Quatre didn't answer.
/*What* are we?/
He snarled. He'd almost had him. He was so close, and he frightened him away. He could almost taste him, bathed in the smell of fear.
He could have feasted.
Someone tugged on his sleeves.
"I'm thirsty, papa," a small figure announced in a girlish voice.
His expression eased. "Hush, darling, wait." He held her, smiling as benevolently as a saint. "Wait."
The limo sped back to the hotel.
"Well, are they okay?" Noin's voice was full of concern.
Lucy nodded. "It must be... I'm not sure. I-- I'm so sorry. I had no idea..."
Zechs said, softly, "No one blames you."
Lucy turned, eyes blazing. "It was my responsibility."
Relena sighed. "So Heero, Duo... Quatre, Trowa... are all back in the hotel?"
"Yes," Lucy said softly. "The manager called me when Heero and Duo stumbled into the lobby. He could tell something was wrong... they wouldn't talk to him. They just went up to their rooms."
Wufei sighed. "They'll be fine. They always are."
Treize frowned. "What was Heero talking about?"
Lucy cleared her throat. "I called, and... Duo answered. Some kid at the club gave Heero a drink... it..." She hesitated. "It was blood."
There was a brief, stunned silence.
"And Quatre and Trowa?"
"They didn't say anything, really. They just seemed so upset."
Dorothy was huddled in her seat. "Quatre and Trowa, I can almost understand... but Heero? He's a big boy. Blood never bothered him."
"People changed after the wars," Lucy said.
"Not Heero Yuy."
"Everything changes," Zechs sighed. "Everyone."
"It sounds pretty terrifying," Relena shivered.
Lucy exhaled. "There are always spots like this," she said bitterly.
"Spots?"
"Dark spots on the sun. You know-- miniature patches of black that mar the good, flaws in the perfect. You know? I just-- father wanted-- something beautiful and perfect. And instead... the belly of the beast."
"There's nothing perfect on earth," Noin said, softly.
"On earth," Lucy echoed. The words were unspoken, but they rang, faintly: But here?
Zechs steered the conversation away from the recent news. "So tell me, how did your father build all this?"
Lucy smiled. "Oh, I suppose you mean how we came across the money. We've always been a wealthy family, but not as prolific as say, the Winners or the Peacecrafts. People in my family liked the solitude, like being alone... but father was different. He's always loved people. He wanted to build a little utopia and just... close the gates."
Treize asked, "If you don't mind a rather strange question... what kind of name is 'Lukyan'? I'm unfamiliar with it."
"It's Russian. We have some Russian blood in the family." Lucy laughed. "We have a little blood of everything. Chinese, French, German, Japanese, Irish..." she smiled. "You get the point. Anyway, there was a scheduled dinner but I don't think the boys want to be disturbed. They need some alone time, no doubt. Just call room service when you get in if you're hungry. We've got a great chef-- Pierre? Very nouveau French. Good Cajun. Dessert is his specialty." She laughed again, lightly. "My response to stress is usually cream puffs and chocolate sauce."
The limo pulled up to the hotel. Treize finally noticed the name. Zion. He laughed to himself. Zion in Eden. It was plausible. He quickly sobered, though, the more he thought about the boys. There'd been no explanation for Quatre and Trowa. And... blood? His eyebrows rose, speculating.
Maybe he'd look into it later. He looked at Wufei, who was caught in his own thoughts. Later.
"They're beginning to remember." He looked at his empty lap and sighed. So that's what it felt like, pride in a perfect creation. His little one was so much like him...
He smiled indulgently. It was almost funny the way things never changed. It would carry on like this into eternity; the threefold Hunt, Hunter, and Hunted as he killed them forever.
/Blood is the price for paradise./
"Your blood sanctifies my sins," he whispered. Luca suddenly laughed, reminded of a passage of a book that spoke of the dead.
/He will fulfill the desire of them that fear him: he also will hear their cry, and will save them./
He giggled. It was the greatest joke in history.
It was so heart-wrenchingly perfect. His Hunters were here, wolves dressed in sheep's clothing. That accounted for seven out of the ten. He tried to remember the one with the ginger hair-- maybe darken the hair a little... slant the eyes and-- ah...
He'd killed that man thousands of years ago, and probably many times since then. He almost felt sorry for that man-- being bound to Samuel's soul had to be... difficult. His lips curved. Samuel... the original names were all but forgotten. He remembered, though. He idly traced the palm of his hand, where a scar slowly appeared. That man had managed to draw blood, once. He was getting soft and idle, he supposed. The scar disappeared as he brushed his hands dismissively.
Samuel. He nonchalantly wondered if things would have been different if the five of them had switched sides. Instead, there were no victors or losers: just a stalemate. He despised stalemates.
The soft sounds of Mozart drifted in the room.
"I want Beethoven's Fifth, darling," he said.
"Yes, papa." Her nimble fingers danced over the piano.
He listened to the music. This had always been a favorite.
"Don't you remember, Duo?" Heero looked at him bitterly. "The taste of ash and coal, the smell of sulfur... all around us, they lay dying, broken..."
Duo stared at the boy lying on the bed.
/Gavrie?/
He shook his head, disbelieving the tiny voice inside of him that insisted he knew, that he remembered...
/Remembered what?/
"You watched me die, unable to do anything. And he..."
Something inside of him frantically screamed, NO! No... no... sobbing brokenly, the screaming of the dying as they fell...
...his hands were wet.
He could see Gavrie out of the corner of his eye, still on the ground. Something dark was hovering over him: a figure swathed in black.
/Heero.../
Gavrie turned to give him a stricken glance, softened somewhat by the words he mouthed: Matthias... I love you...
/Matthias?/
The figure bent and grabbed his neck. His eyes went wide.
/He's... feeding off of him.../
"My God!" His voice was agonized. "Stop! Don't! You're *killing* him."
It was an unfamiliar word.
The figure straightened and let Gavrie's body crumple to the ground.
/Oh my God... he doesn't have... where are... God..../
"He's dead, little brother."
He knew the voice; he hated it.
"He was... delicious, though." The voice was enraptured. "The taste is not something I'll soon forget." Fingers smoothed his hair away from his neck. "Or maybe your blood will prove sweeter, dear one."
"Why?"
"I need your dying blood to live." The voice was bemused. "Did you ever think you'd die? Of course not. But you are. You're bleeding to death on the ground. The universe is bleeding to death too, you know."
"But..."
"Hush. But you'll be back. And I'll be back, too."
As the figure pulled his torn body from the ground, Matthias--
/I'm Duo./
--shook his head, and laughed, cynically. "Who knew war would be like this, brother? To tear the very heavens apart and scorch the earth..."
"To weaken the nations."
Matthias shivered.
His vision was beginning to dim.
/My hands are wet./
He looked down with his final strength at his scarlet-stained hands.
/My blood?/
He laughed again, weakly. /So I *can* bleed. Of course. What was I thinking.../
The figure gripped him until his eyes closed and the noise and thunder around him drowned into a tinny whisper, "You'll die, over and over and over."
And then nothing.
"He killed you too," Heero said, deadpan.
"It was worse than death," Duo whispered. "I'm... I'm still here. To die... over and over... and..." He looked up into Heero's eyes.
"I remember."
End Part 4
Notes:
[1] Reyhan is an Arabian name, so-- if you're wondering why the hell he's spouting scripture, I can't answer that. Yet. ;-) But things will hopefully be explained, later.
Jay
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