14-Jul-2000
Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit
Warnings: Dark, angsty, sorta AU, maybe OOC
Rowan looked at the blade glittering faintly in his fingers. He contemplated what the ghost just told him. It would be so easy. No more horrid images and recollections. Indecision, so much indecision. A coward's way out, but a way out nevertheless.
Rowan simply couldn't take this anymore! He felt tears start to well up in his eyes as he took one last look at his reflection in the mirror. A stranger's face. Then slowly, deliberately, the teenager raised his hand - and flung the knife at the mirror. The pieces of shattered glass spilled all over the bathroom, some imbedding themselves in his skin, but Rowan didn't pay any notice to this minor physical discomfort. The chaos in his mind was a lot more painful at the moment. The boy gradually sank to his knees and didn't even twitch when the soft voice spoke up behind him, telling him he'd made the right decision. Rowan just shook his head, too drained to argue with a ghost just now. Then, on impulse, he asked the question that had been pestering him for weeks now.
"Who are you?" The question, same that Rowan asked Heero at their first encounter, sounded utterly different now. It was posed in a tired, accepting tone and sounded like the boy was genuinely interested in the answer. He wasn't belligerent anymore, just wanted to know.
Heero wondered exactly how much he should share with the kid. Then, deciding to take the middle road, he gave Rowan a much-shortened version of his story.
"I had been a soldier during the war, fighting for the colonies. A terrorist, really. I had been trained to kill, not to feel. So when love hit me over the head I refused to let it in. I didn't appreciate what I had until it was too late. My lover died and it was all my fault. So I killed myself to pay for the crime. Apparently that wasn't a good enough punishment and so I'm here talking to you right now."
Rowan was silent for a minute while he digested this information. It was all pretty much like he had found out through his research, except for this, latest detail. The boys had been lovers. Somehow that didn't bother the teenager. On the contrary, it was just another piece of the puzzle finally falling into place. There was another question that Rowan was dying to ask, but he'd do it later. He got up shakily, feeling better for some reason.
Rowan was sitting on the windowsill watching the sunset. He had been feeling a bit better lately and he was glad he had taken Heero's advice that night. He suddenly realized that he hadn't run into the ghost since then and wondered whether the spirit had left the house for good. Strangely, the thought upset rather than comforted him. Rowan felt an odd sense of loneliness without the ghost around. He had been sort of getting used to him. He briefly entertained the idea of befriending an apparition, then chuckled at its ludicrousness. Completely lost in his thoughts, Rowan didn't notice it when the room became occupied by one more being. He nearly fell out the window when that soft nasal voice spoke up right next to him.
"Shit," Rowan cursed to cover his shaken nerves, "I thought you finally took the hint and left me alone." His words sang hollow even to himself, though. It was like he said them for protocol's sake, without real meaning. Ostensibly, the ghost thought the same, for he chuckled softly.
"I see you are feeling better."
"Yeah, in a way."
"I'm glad."
There was a pause. Then Rowan suddenly blurted out the question that was on his mind.
"Why didn't you try to get rid of me like you did others who lived here before?"
The ghost was silent for so long that Rowan nearly gave up on getting his answer. Then, unexpectedly, Heero spoke.
"I'll tell you. But first, you to answer a question as well."
"Sounds fair."
"Who are _you_?"
"Wha.? I don't understand."
"Tell me who you are - where you come from. Tell me about yourself."
"I should have know you'd ask something like that," Rowan sighed, "Well, then, don't blame me for boring you because there' really nothing much to tell."
Rowan's story turned out to be terrifying as only truth can be. It was made all the more so by the flippant tone in which the boy described his life. Heero had wanted to know about his housemate, but now he almost wished he hadn't. Rowan's words made him cringe for the first time, perhaps, ever.
Rowan was an accidental by-product of an affair between a girl from a wealthy and extremely conservation family and a happy-go-lucky house painter. Beata, Rowan's mother, was terrified when she found out she was pregnant, and for a good reason. Her parents had been unforgiving and threw her out of the house once they knew what happened. Her lover offered marriage, but he died in an accident only a month before the wedding. Beata was left alone in the streets without any means or skills to survive. The baby was born shortly afterwards. Her path was much like that of other women who were desperate enough to do anything to feed their children and had nothing but pretty looks at their disposal. Unfortunately, Beata's luck was even worse than that of her "colleagues." One of her clients turned out to be a homicidal maniac who followed the woman home one night, brutally raping and killing her. The murder had a witness for the six-year old Rowan had hid himself when he heard the commotion in the hall. The child watched in horror as his beloved mother was murdered and he could do absolutely nothing to help her. He was found by the policemen who had arrived on the scene several minutes too late, called by some neighbor who complained about the screams.
Rowan was taken to an orphanage, which burned to the ground a year later, taking the lives of everyone who inhabited the place except for a handful of kids, including Rowan. From then on, he was on the street, doing what he could to survive - pick pocketing, hooking up with various gangs, the list went on and on. However, he was fortunate enough to have a knack for all things mechanical and electronic. Once he learned enough to make a living, Rowan stopped stealing and instead drifted from place to place selling his skills to anyone who cared to hire.
Of course, Rowan's story was not nearly so detailed. He gave a very terse account in only a few sentences, but the anguish that Heero could feel emanate from the boy helped him fill in the tragic gaps. Now Heero understood why Rowan acted like he did - shutting everyone out, trusting no one but himself. That was how he'd survived this long. Heero was shocked to find out how much the kid's story reminded him of Duo's. Only Duo had turned out differently.
As he listened to the teenager, Heero briefly wondered what they had fought for all these years ago. Was it worth it to put their lives on the line if two hundred years later little children still had to steal and maybe even sell themselves in order not to starve? Rowan's voice bought Heero back to reality.
"Well, that's the answer to your question. Now how about answering mine?"
"Perhaps some other time."
"Hey, not fair! You can't back off after you've made me spill my guts out!"
Rowan's answer was silence and the boy knew the spirit had left. He sighed in frustration, then slammed his fist on the window frame and muttered a curse as he tried to bring his unearthed memories back under control.
"Bastard."
The boy blinked back the tears that threatened to pour down his cheeks again. He wasn't sure why he suddenly decided to share his life with this - Heero. Except it made him feel better and it made the pain subside. Even now, almost fifteen years later, he was still getting flashbacks of that horrible summer night when his mother died. Talking about it relieved some of the grief, helplessness, and guilt he still felt. More than ever before, Rowan felt that he was somehow connected to Heero. Perhaps it was karma. He didn't know. But he was sure that, once he got the answer to that last question, the puzzle would be completed.
End Part 9
To be concluded...
C&C, please?
(:./murasaki/second9)
