19-Jun-2002 (revised)
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or it's characters, they are the property of Sunrise, Bandai and Sotsu Agency.
Title: The World, The Flesh and Duo Maxwell
Author: KwyckSylver kwycksylver@yahoo.com
Rating: PG 13 (language)
Warnings: Deathfic (the character is already dead), sap, romance, eerie and macabre stuff (I hope). Think of it as True Romance meets Tales From The Crypt, but in a romantic way. This is not a squick fic.
Pairing: 1 + 2 (I was going for sappy romance not lemon so this one is shonen-ai and probably cheesy to boot.)
Spoilers: None, it's totally AU but with a GW flavor to it.
He stood on the corner, waiting for the lights to change. Even this late at night the road was heavy with traffic although few ventured out on foot. He breathed in deeply, enjoying the feel of the cool air in his lungs. It had a cleansing effect, clearing his mind and soul of the hard day he'd had. Everything had been so hard for him lately.
The lights changed and he cut through the thin mist that wisped around him as he crossed the street. He looked around, he could have sworn he heard someone call out his name, but there was no one near. He shrugged, chalking it up to imagination as he entered the small apartment building he called home.
He fumbled with his bag of groceries, digging in his pocket for his key. He unlocked the door and entered, flicking on the light switch before he went to the kitchen and set the sack on the table.
Coffee, a quart of milk, cereal, a loaf of bread, some apples, a bunch of bananas and a few cans of soup, he went over the receipt and shook his head. His paychecks just weren't keeping up with the high cost of living. He put away the groceries he'd bought, hoping he could make them stretch until payday. He placed the milk on the top shelf of the empty refrigerator, it looked as alone as he felt.
He sighed and stretched, then yawned. He'd felt a little tired when he first walked in the door but now he felt bone tired. He dropped a couple of flakes of food into his small aquarium and said goodnight to his fish. He was going to bed, too sleepy to eat much less finish off the last couple of chapters of the book he was reading.
'Would you die for me?'
The words woke him up. The voice sounded so real, as if someone had whispered in his ear. He flicked on the lamp next to his bed and scanned the room to make sure. Except for the furniture and himself, it was empty.
"That was one crazy dream," he yawned.
He sat up and became overcome by vertigo and nausea. His chest felt tight and his stomach seemed to be in his throat. He closed his eyes and began to breathe slowly and deeply while he waited for the room to stop spinning and for his stomach to settle. He needed water. His throat was dry and scratchy, the constant tickle was making him cough. He eased himself to his feet. His legs felt shaky and weak and he had to steady himself to keep from falling. He swiped his hands through his hair, it was soaked with sweat. This was all he needed, to get sick. He couldn't afford it.
He walked slowly to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. He gulped it down, then refilled the glass and drank more before his thirst was quenched. As he drank the words echoed in his head. He tried to remember the dream but he couldn't. It was already fading from his memory, leaving him with a vague creepiness he couldn't shake and an odd sense of deja vu that gave him the chills.
He heard the alarm go off and he groaned. He was hoping for a little more sleep, he still felt exhausted. He entered the bedroom and shut off the noisy thing so the neighbors wouldn't complain. He then began making his bed. That's when he saw it, a wet spot on the sheets. He groped the front of his underwear and found he wasn't wearing any, which was strange because he always wore them when he slept. He looked around and under the bed but couldn't find them.
"I guess I was jack . . .," he cut the thought short. It might explain his weak legs but not the dizziness or the nausea. He just hoped it wasn't the flu.
He stripped the sheets off the bed and remade it. He rolled them into a bundle and tossed it into the small hamper in the bathroom. He turned on the water and began his shower.
It was the start of another day in the life of Heero Yuy.
"Ok Heero, just relax," the professor said.
"Easy for you to say," Heero replied, "you're not the one who's lying on the table with needles stuck in your head."
"Are you having second thoughts?" the old man asked.
"No, I'm ok I guess," Heero answered, "let's get started."
Professor J reached for the switch.
"Wait," Heero exclaimed, "well, yes I am. I need to ask you a question," Heero said.
"Ask away," he smiled.
"I should've already," Heero said "but I didn't because this experiment is important to me. Is the government involved? I can't be a part of this if it is, no matter what it could do for me. I hope you understand," Heero's face grew hard at the mention of the word government.
The failed revolution a few years ago had made life harder for everyone. The government's iron fist had since turned into a steel vice, squeezing out the last bits of precious freedom for everyone. The only reason he was in college was to use him as a tool of their propaganda. The government claimed he was a captured rebel and had been rehabilitated at one of their many work camps. He was to be their shining example that even the enemy could be turned into a useful citizen. Heero had no idea what they were talking about.
"No, they're not involved," the old man assured him, patting his shoulder, "and if we're successful you'll get your memories back, I promise."
"If I find out you're lying to me," Heero paused, leaving the threat unfinished as he tried finding a more comfortable position, "I guess I'm ready."
Heero was lying in the same position, reminding him of that first day and the promise it had held. He'd been involved with the experiment for a couple of months now and so far, nothing. They'd started out with magnetic pulses through him. There had been no change in his brain wave activity. They'd tried electric shocks next. Those had hurt a little and Dr. J thought he saw some difference in his theta wave levels but he couldn't be sure. Heero's theta wave activity was higher than normal anyway. Aside from his amnesia, it was another reason why he had been chosen over the other applicants. Now they were trying electromagnetic waves. Heero was keeping his fingers crossed it would work, because the next step would be chemical alteration and Heero didn't care for the idea of being pumped full of drugs.
"Let's get started," he said, "I've got a class at three."
Doctor J nodded, then flicked the switch, turning on the electromagnets placed at measured points around Heero's body. There was no pain, instead he felt almost weightless and an odd push-pull sensation. He could feel every hair on his body stand on end. It felt invigorating. If nothing else, maybe it would help with the fatigue he'd been experiencing lately.
Heero waited at the corner for the light to change, he noticed the mist was thicker tonight. Why it collected at this one particular spot was a curiosity, especially since it had only started appearing a couple of months ago. And it didn't just hang there, it swirled around and within itself, as if it were holding itself together. He shrugged, it was probably nothing more than a leak from the massive steam pipes that ran underneath the street, powering the environmental systems in the surrounding buildings.
The light turned green and he began walking across the street, cutting through the mist as he did so. Thin tendrils stretched out from behind, reaching toward him as if beckoning him to stay. They pulled back into the mist once he was halfway across the street. He stood at the doors to his apartment building and paused before entering. Again he could have sworn he'd heard someone whisper his name and again he looked around finding no one near. That weird sense of deja vu crept over him, like when he'd woke up that morning. The eerie feeling returned, making his skin crawl. He rushed up the stairs and entered his apartment. He slammed the door behind him, leaving the strange feeling on the other side.
"Would you die for me?"
Heero woke with a start and yelped at the bright blue eyes that were staring at him. He blinked and the eyes, along with the face they belonged to, faded away.
"Damn," he said as he leaned over and turned off his alarm, "that was too weird."
He waited for his heart to calm down then kicked off the covers. He sat up on the edge of the bed, yawning loudly. He felt like he could use another couple of hours of sleep.
"Huh?" he exclaimed as he felt a draft of cool air against bare skin. He looked down at himself. He'd gone to bed wearing his usual t-shirt and underwear, but this time he was completely naked. He pulled the covers off the bed and found more wet spots and something else. There was the impression of another body in his bed besides his. He looked at the pillow, it was indented where a head had lain. He bent over and looked closely then reached out and delicately picked up a few strands of hair. They weren't his color and they were very long.
"What the hell is happening to me?" Heero staggered to his feet, doubling over as a wave of nausea hit him.
Heero entered the small laboratory looking as though he hadn't slept in a week. In fact it was all he could do earlier to stay awake for his morning class.
"Sit down, let me have a look at you," Dr. J told him as he pushed the tray of instruments next to the examining table Heero sat down on, "you don't look well."
"I feel dead tired, like something is sapping my energy," Heero said.
"Hmmm," the professor commented as he began to take Heero's vital signs. He looked at his eyes, throat and ears then took his pulse and counted his respirations. He took Heero's temperature and blood pressure. Lastly, he tested his reflexes.
"Roll up your sleeve," he ordered, preparing to draw blood.
Heero winced as the needle entered his arm. The syringe began to fill with the viscous red fluid that symbolized life.
"Your vitals check out normal," the old man said as he released the tourniquet then drew out the needle. "We'll see what the lab says when I get the results back. Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?" Dr. J asked.
"The same as usual," Heero yawned.
"Any changes in your diet?"
"No," Heero said, "Cereal in the morning, fruit for lunch and soup at dinner."
"What about you're dreams?" he asked, "anything different about them?"
"I don't know, I can't remember them once I'm fully awake."
"Are you sure?" the professor sounded disappointed.
"I'm sorry," Heero said, "I try to but I can't."
"Don't be," Dr. J assured him, "and don't worry, you're doing fine."
"Maybe it's too soon yet," Heero suggested.
"Probably," the old man agreed as he dug into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and handed Heero money, "go get yourself some decent food," he said, "and some vitamins. I think you're just a little undernourished right now. Living on soup and a few pieces of fruit now and then will do that to you."
"I can't," Heero protested.
"Yes you can. I need you rested and focused for these tests," the old man smiled.
Heero reluctantly accepted the gift. There was no sense arguing with the professor, or his stomach.
"Now go buy some groceries and take the day off, including that night watchman job of yours. Eat and rest, that's an order from your doctor," Dr J made shoo-ing motions and pointed towards the door.
"Thank you," Heero said as he gathered his things, "I'll pay you back when the study is over." It was a bonus to signing up for the experiment. Even if it failed, he was going to get paid for participating. The money would help him live a little better, at least for a few months.
"It's a deal," the old man said, "now off with you. I'll see you in a couple of days."
After he made sure Heero was gone, Dr. J disposed of the sample. He didn't need to run tests on Heero's blood. He already knew what was wrong.
Heero's step was a little lighter than usual, and he was smiling. He'd treated himself to a good lunch and the two heavy bags of food he carried didn't seem like a burden at all. It was amazing how good a full stomach made you feel. He'd even bought his fish a treat. And best of all the fatigue seemed to have disappeared. He approached his corner and punched the button for the lights. His little mist friend was still there, but now it looked more like a ball of thick fog. Even in daylight it was clearly visible. The light changed and he crossed the street passing through the cloud as he usually did.
Behind him, the ball of fog began to grow, once again becoming a fine, transparent haze. It began wafting and swirling as if caught in a breeze as it drifted towards him. It swarmed and hovered, then engulfed him in its misty arms. Thin wisps wrapped themselves around his body as fingered tendrils stroked his face and lips, leaving them moistened as if by tears. Then it disappeared into nothingness.
Heero looked up in awe. What had caused it to do that? The mist had always seemed to stay put, not even the rush from passing cars or a brisk breeze had disturbed it before. He wondered if it had disappeared for good. Strangely, that idea made him sad.
He reached his apartment building and paused, this time there was silence. He looked towards the other side of the street. Were the mist and the voice connected in some way?
"Get a grip on yourself," he said. He was letting what little imagination he had run away with him. He let out a long deep sigh. Damn, he was beginning to feel tired again. He shifted both bags into one arm and opened the door, swinging it wide open to give him time and enough room to enter. He heard the door slowly shut behind him as he started up the stairs. By the time he reached his door he was so fatigued he didn't know if he had the strength to unlock it.
Heero dreamed of warm embraces and passionate kisses. He dreamed of a boy with flowing chestnut hair and adoring blue eyes.
"I love you," the boy said as he snuggled his head against Heero's shoulder.
"I know," Heero sighed happily, wrapping his arms around him.
The boy raised up, staring down at Heero, "Would you give your life to me?"
"Why do you keep asking me that?" Heero turned serious.
"Because you haven't given me an answer," the boy said.
"I would die a thousand times for you, I love you," Heero answered as he pulled the boy to him for a kiss to seal his vow.
"Once will be enough."
Heero woke up. He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. His breathing was hard and labored, as if he'd ran a marathon. It was the most vivid dream he'd ever had. Heero could still taste the other boy on his lips, his skin still tingled from his touch.
Heero felt a twinge of excitement in his belly. He remembered the dream. He had to call the professor and let him know there was finally some progress.
Heero raised his hands and started to push the hair away from his face, then froze. There was an arm draped across his chest and it wasn't his. He swallowed hard as he turned his head. Someone was pressed up against him, sound asleep. Surprised to find himself not alone, Heero scooted backwards but the tangle of sheets around his legs made him lose his balance. He went sliding off the bed and onto the floor, landing on his butt. He got on his knees and raised himself eye level to the bed, peeking over the errant bedcovers. The boy in his dream was in his bed and looking straight at him.
"Solo," the boy said.
"Is that your name?" Heero asked, reaching out but not quite touching.
"No, you're Solo. I'm Duo," the boy answered, "don't you remember me?"
Heero looked the other boy over, "are you real or just a figment of my dreams?"
Duo reached out and stroked the side of Heero's face, "does this feel like a figment to you?" he grinned, "No, I'm flesh and bone. And those weren't dreams. You were in my world."
"Your world?"
"Purgatory, the other side of Paradise," Duo said as he sat up in the bed, "or its basement. I'm not quite sure which."
"But isn't that where they take the dead?"
Duo nodded, his face turned sad, "Why don't you remember me?"
"But that would mean . . ."
"I was dead," Duo finished for him, "and now you've brought me back, you're the only one who could."
"Why?"
"Because I died for you," Duo said, "right now I'm only flesh and bone. I can't stay unless I become flesh and blood again."
Heero shook his head. This had to be a very weird side effect of the tests. He felt like he was trapped in an old episode of the Twilight Zone. It was a strange conversation to be having with someone, especially if that someone wasn't real, or was real but dead.
"You really don't know who I am," Duo said, disappointed. He gathered himself into a ball, wrapping his arms around his knees, "You have to remember. Otherwise, all this will have been for nothing."
"When did this happen?" Heero asked, "most of my life is a mystery to me. The doctors said it was amnesia do to a traumatic shock. We really knew each other?"
"We were best friends, inseparable. But even then I knew I loved you and you loved me. That was why I traded my life for yours," Duo answered, "Shinigami told me he should never have let me talk him into it. It was a mistake compounded on top of another mistake, he says. He's been catching hell for it ever since. He's supposed to make things right and he can't do that unless you remember."
"Shinigami? But he's a myth, a legend, just another symbol for death."
"He's all of them yet none of them, he wears many faces," Duo grinned at Heero's blank expression, "don't try to understand. After all this time, I still don't."
"I have to die for you," Heero said, "that's what you were asking me in my dreams."
"Yes Hee-ro," Duo said slowly, not used to calling him by that name.
"What if I say no?" Heero asked.
"Then I go back," Duo shrugged, "Purgatory's not so bad once you get used to it. It's nothing like what people believe it is. It's simply the place you wait until your judgment."
"You mean Heaven or Hell? If you go back, is that what will happen?"
Duo shook his head, "there is no Heaven or Hell, it's something different. But if I go back there will no judgment for me, I wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. I've been waiting for them to decide what to do about me. Besides, I don't think I'll be going back. I have faith in you. You'll do the right thing."
"Why?" Heero asked, "I may not still be the same person you say you once knew."
"Because in Purgatory, you promised," Duo answered.
"Are you hungry?" Heero asked, changing the subject.
"No, I don't need to eat food," Duo answered, "not until I'm fully human again. Heero, I have a confession to make. The reason you've been feeling so tired is because I've been draining you of some of your life force. It's how I was able to solidify."
"You are the mist," Heero realized.
Duo nodded, "it's my spirit form." He heard a rumble coming from Heero's stomach.
"I'm starved," Heero grinned sheepishly.
"Then eat something, you're going to need all the energy you can get," Duo laughed.
Heero went to his drawer and pulled out a couple of pairs of shorts and t-shirts. He tossed one set to Duo.
"Put these on," Heero said, "the windows in my kitchen are large enough for the neighbors to get a good look."
Duo picked up the clothes, rubbing the material with his hands, "it's been so long since I've worn clothing," he said as he pulled on the shorts, "I hope it doesn't feel scratchy."
Heero chuckled and led Duo to the kitchen, wondering why he was so accepting of everything.
Heero sat down to a steaming plate of spaghetti with marinara sauce, garlic bread and a salad. He felt guilty eating in front of Duo, but Duo assured him he could not eat even if he wanted to.
"What happens to me if I agree?" Heero asked as he swirled a bite of the pasta around his fork.
"I don't know," Duo admitted, "Shinigami didn't tell me everything, and I wasn't supposed to tell you as much as I did. But finding out you have no memory of that time, well that changes things."
"I really would like to remember. I don't know anything about me, or my life. Right now I'm participating in an experiment that might cure my amnesia," Heero said.
"I know," Duo replied.
"How? Have you been following me?" Heero asked.
"When you pass through me, I can see what you are thinking," Duo answered, then cocked his head to one side, "why do you go by the name of Heero now?"
"I was given that name," he said, "by the state."
"Solo wasn't your name either," Duo said, "just like mine isn't really Duo."
Heero looked at him with surprise, "do you know my real name?"
Duo shook his head, "you were already Solo when we met. I began calling myself Duo because we were always together. I don't think I've ever known mine."
Heero took the last bite of food off his plate then carried it to the sink. He began washing the few dishes he'd dirtied. Duo joined him and began drying them. After the last dish was cleaned, dried and put away, Heero wiped his hands on the dishtowel Duo was holding.
"Help me remember you," he said.
Duo smiled, "thank you, Heero. I need you to lie down, I'm afraid this is going to drain you."
"I know," Heero said as he took Duo's hand and led him to the bedroom. He could feel his energy ebbing already.
"Just relax and get comfortable," Duo said as Heero stretched himself out on the bed, "this won't hurt, you'll just feel very tired, like when you pass through me."
Duo leaned down and kissed Heero lightly on the lips. Heero could feel the energy pass out of him and into Duo, "I'm sorry but I need a little jump start to do this."
"I'm getting used to it," Heero yawned.
Duo couldn't resist brushing a lock of hair out of Heero's eyes before he stood up and raised his arms to the ceiling. Heero watched as Duo became translucent, then transparent before he disappeared into a flash of light, then reappeared as the mist Heero had become all too familiar with. He floated over Heero then lowered himself, covering Heero from head to toe like a shroud.
"Remember," Heero heard him whisper.
It was as if someone had opened the floodgates. Heero began remembering. A small house and picnics in the backyard with his parents. His father walking behind him as he rode his tricycle on the sidewalk, then later as he learned to ride a bicycle. His mother reading to him at night before bed, his father teaching him to read. He remembered them playing sock puppets with him and smothering him with hugs and kisses. He remembered cookies baking in the oven and the puppy he got for his birthday. He remembered his mother playing ball with him in the yard and cheering him on at his little league games.
He remembered being happy and feeling loved.
Then he remembered the day it was all taken away. The day his father disappeared. He remembered his mother frantic after getting a telephone call. He remembered more phone calls and his mother crying. He remembered her throwing clothes into a couple of suitcases and the both of them leaving in the the dead of night. He remembered their house growing smaller and smaller and she drove down the road. It was the last he'd ever see of his home.
He remembered always being on the run, stopping for a night here and there at someone's house. He remembered getting used to being around strangers. He remembered his mother telling him these strangers were friends. They were hiding them from the bad men. The men who took his daddy.
He remembered their car breaking down in an unfamiliar city and his mother crying because there was no money, and no one to turn to for help. He remembered them taking refuge at a shelter but sneaking out when the bad men came.
He remembered living on the streets and eating at soup kitchens. He remembered his mother getting old before his eyes. He remembered her getting sick and the day she just wouldn't wake up, no matter how hard he shook her. He remembered being alone for a long time after that.
He remembered the day he met a boy with long braided hair and bright blue eyes and the stolen apple they shared. He remembered making a pact sealed in the blood from cuts they'd made with broken glass. Friends forever through thick and thin, no matter what. He remembered their friendship turning to love. He remembered never leaving his side.
He remembered the day the government soldiers came. He remembered the shrill whine of bullets passing near him and explosions everywhere. He remembered no place being safe, the ground strewn with the dead. He remembered he and the other boy, now teenagers, being soldiers themselves. They'd become part of the resistance. He remembered being cornered, pinned down by gunfire and a vow to protect each other from death. He remembered shots being fired and a sharp, burning pain. He remembered his world going black, then the black slowly becoming grey. He remembered voices, one full of tearful pleadings, the other was warm and comforting.
He remembered opening his eyes as he was lifted onto a stretcher. He remembered turning his head and crying out as he watched a body bag being closed shut over the other boy's face.
"Duo!" he'd screamed before losing consciousness. When he woke up in the hospital, he remembered nothing, not even his own name. Now he remembered everything. His name really was Heero Yuy and Duo was the boy with the long braid and bright blue eyes The boy he had sworn a blood oath with. The boy he had loved.
Heero woke up cradled tightly in Duo's arms, "Why did you do it?" he sobbed.
"Because I loved you and I still do," Duo said, "Now, get some sleep."
"No," Heero said, "I know what I must do now."
He wrapped his arms around Duo and kissed him, releasing his life's energy and allowing it to flow from him and into Duo. Duo jerked as shriveled lungs began filling with air, each breath becoming deeper and deeper. He felt a pounding in his chest and then another and another as his long stilled heart began to beat. He could hear a gentle whoosh-whoosh in his ears and he marveled at the sound. He had a pulse. His paled skin took on a healthy pink as oxygen fed blood surged through his body. He was becoming flesh and blood again. Duo Maxwell lived.
But if he was becoming alive that meant Heero was dying. Duo pulled Heero away from him. Heero used his last bit of energy to smile. "I love you," he whispered weakly before he collapsed in Duo's arms.
Tears fell down Duo's cheeks as he laid Heero down on the bed. Behind him a mist appeared. All the colors imaginable swirled within the maelstrom that was the messenger of death, and of life.
"Don't let him die little brother, or all will be lost," the voice of Shinigami echoed in Duo's ears, "he still has a living spark within him. Ignite it."
"But how?" Duo wailed, "you never showed me."
"Return what he gave you," Shinigami said. The wraith folded in on himself until he was a bright ball of light then winked out and was gone.
Duo laid on top of Heero and pressed his mouth against his lips and breathed into him. He could feel something happening, he tingled from head to toe. It was the same flow of energy he'd felt when Heero kissed him but this time it was flowing out instead of in.
He knew now what Shinigami meant. Give Heero back his life force, his own had been reborn.
The glow of life returned to Heero's skin as he took a long ragged breath and began to cough. He opened his eyes and saw the love in Duo's face. Heero reached up, wiping the tears off Duo's face, and smiled.
Outside a small apartment building, on the other side of the street, an old man stood looking up at the window to Heero's bedroom. He had one more stop to make that night. It was time to end the suffering of a man who sat in a prison, no one knew who he was except his tormentors and Shinigami. The wrong Heero Yuy had been on his list all those years ago, and now he was correcting the mistake.
He smiled, "good bye little brother, one day we will meet again. But it won't be for a long, long time." Shinigami separated himself from the old man whose body he'd borrowed.
"Watch over them," the god of death commanded him as he floated into the clouds, "your futures are tied together."
"I will," Dr. J vowed as he waved a farewell.
Now the boys would live out their futures as they were meant to. And their world would soon be free.
End.
KwyckSylver
Please send comments to: kwycksylver@yahoo.com