28-Feb-2005
Title: Come Sail Away
Author: Mookie
Pairing: Duo/Heero-ish
Rating: PG
Warnings: mildly implied shonen ai, mild sap
Notes: Written for Natea who was recently taken by surprise by an unlabeled death fic and who might suspect why I chose this particular title.
It took me a while to find him.
The day I tracked him down, I found him standing in front of a modest headstone, the only thing that marked the final resting-place of a kind man, of one who took a chance on a homeless punk kid.
He stood there with his head bowed, the wind rustling through the leaves and his hair, and I felt like an intruder when he dropped to one knee and traced the engraving with a couple of fingers. I couldn't see his face, but I knew his lips would be moving in silent prayer.
It was a sunny day with the first chill of autumn in the air. The leaves had just started to turn orange and a squirrel scampered up a tree, sending a trio of birds into flight. He didn't seem to notice.
I felt like the worst kind of voyeur, yet the sight was so compelling I couldn't look away. When he stood up, the wind blew against the dark trench coat he wore, flapping its length against his legs. He reached into an inner pocket and I expected to see his hand come out with a flower.
I was wrong.
He held it out at arm's length, ready to release it, when I saw him hesitate. He brought it to his face and brushed his lips over it quickly before letting it flutter to the ground.
I admit it. When he left out the north exit, I walked over to the grave. I crouched down and read the epitaph, partially concealed by a large gray plume. I couldn't read the date of death but to do so I'd need to touch the feather, and I couldn't bring myself to do so.
I got to my feet and walked slowly toward the south exit. I felt like I'd been looking at one of those three dimensional pictures, the kind where you have to view it just right in order to see the sailboat among all the swirls of color.
I hate those pictures.
Imagine my surprise when I found him leaning against my car, hands in the pockets of his coat, face inscrutable.
There was no point trying to pretend. "When did you notice?"
"From the beginning."
I wasn't sure how to take that. If he'd known I was there, why hadn't he concealed his actions?
"Sometimes, Duo," he said, "it's time to let it out of the cage."
I looked at his face and the faint shimmer of his lashes, and I put my arm around him. "Let me buy you a cup of coffee."
He let me keep my arm there all the way to the coffee shop several blocks away. If Heero could mourn the passing of someone like the good doctor, maybe it was time for me to lay my own ghosts to rest.
There were several small tables outside the cafe and that's where Heero waited while I went in to get our coffee. He was sitting with his back to the table when I returned, shielding his eyes with one hand and gazing up at the sky.
I looked up, too, squinting into the sunlight with a cup in each hand.
"After J found me," he said, "and I'd started training, sometimes I'd get a chance to go outside after lessons were done. As long as I didn't stray too far, I was off the clock. He came outside one day and asked me what I was doing. I told him I was looking at the cats."
"Cats?"
He nodded, hand still shielding his face.
"Up there," he said, pointing at a group of clouds. "Those two together look like a bear. Over there," he moved his hand to point to the one next to it. "is one that looks a little like Deathscythe." He turned his head to the side and indicated another cluster. "And that one," he said, flicking his eyes to mine beneath the shadow of his hand. "Is a sailboat. Can you see it?"
I handed him his coffee and sat down next to him, tilting my head back. "No," I said honestly.
I draped my arm across the back of his chair and looked directly into eyes so blue they put the sky to shame.
"Show me."
The End
(:./mookie/sail)
