18-Dec-2000
Title: Tomorrow, Tomorrow - A Waltz #1 Interlude
Author: Sparcck
Rating: PG
Archive: Please! Just drop me a line and let me know where it's going.
Genre: Angst, shonen ai, yaoi [2x5, 1+2, 3+4]
Warnings: Yaoi, angst, some sap. What more could you want?
Spoilers: Endless Waltz mostly, but probably a bunch of episodes, too. Pretty much the entire Gundam Wing universe.
Summary: After Endless Waltz, Wufei and Duo try to come to terms with the repercussions of war and peace, and they find a bit of peace in each other. (Second in the Waltz #1 series, directly after Waltz #1)
Disclaimer: Do I own them? Of course not. Will you sue me? I hope not. All characters, names, places, etc. belong to Bandai, Sunrise, and Sotsu Agency. I'm not making any money off of them, please don't sue me, and so on.
Waltz #1, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, and any other song I might bite off of Elliott Smith quite obviously doesn't belong to me. They're his, they're all his, and aren't they wonderful?
Notes: I do use some Mandarin phrases in this. All the translations can be found at the end of the last part.
Thanks: To Jay, a wonderful beta-reader and extraordinary writer. Thanks so much for all your help, doll. Also, to all the great people at Gundam Wing Addiction who write the G-boys as lovingly as I hope I do.
Feedback: All comments, criticisms, flames, marriage proposals, and death threats should be sent, with care, to sparcck.
everybody knows which way you go
straight to over
no one wants to see you inside of me
straight to over
i heard the hammer at the lock
say you're deaf and dumb and done
give yourself another talk
this time make it sound like someone
__February, AC 197__
Maxwell, I think, was the last person I expected to guide me in the right direction.
I thought -- maybe it would be Quatre, because he's so good with words; he knows just how to phrase things, just the right tone to affect. He reminds me of what I could have been had it not been for the War.
Trowa was next in line - he isn't as dexterous with words, but we connect on a different level, an interior level.
But really, if I had to choose one of the four pilots, it would have been Heero. He understands without words, because we're the same; honor, justice, peace hold the same weight in both our lives. So it would have been him.
If I had thought to seek help.
And if he had survived the final battle.
Pain slices through my chest at the remembrance of this death.
Where did that come from?
The collar of my Preventers uniform digs into my neck but I won't unbutton it. I'm nervous enough about this whole situation; I can't let anyone else know how I'm feeling.
Loud voices from the main house catch my attention, and I shade my eyes against the setting sun to try to discern what's happening.
Maxwell.
Duo, I correct myself.
Of course.
He comes bounding out of the house, braid lashing wildly behind him, waving cheerily to Quatre. He's talking a mile a minute, as always, and he sounds happy enough. But there's a slant to his shoulders that just appeared a little over a month ago, and although I can't see it from here, I know the ever-present light in his eyes has died.
I narrow my eyes and look back to Quatre, who's now leaning heavily on Trowa, running a small hand through his hair. The European pilot puts an arm around him and says something that I can't quite catch. I'm not lucky enough to miss Quatre's response.
"Not everything is 'just fine', Trowa! Why can't you ever see that?"
Trowa extends a hand towards him, speaking quietly, but the Arabian boy wrenches away, jerky movements betraying his anger.
"I will not calm down!"
There's a silence between them for a moment until Quatre turns and stalks into the house, leaving the taller pilot alone on the front steps. He stands stiffly, head bowed, then slowly follows after his lover.
My eyes find Duo, his figure a silhouette against the setting sun. His body is rigid, one hand tugging viciously on his braid -- he's obviously heard the exchange between the others.
I curse silently. We're falling apart at the seams.
It's odd: for all of Heero's introversion, he really was our support. Without him here, we're faltering.
I can't fix everything - I've made my decision to go and I can't back out now. I have to go, not just for honor's sake and not for any kind of justice -- I have to go for my own peace. I'm trying to take control, like Duo told me to.
Duo sinks to his knees, shoulders shaking.
I'm walking towards him before I even form the intention to do so.
I can't fix everything, no. But I will do what I'm able to.
the noise is coming out,
and if it's not out now,
then tomorrow, tomorrow
they took your life apart
and called you failure's art
they were wrong though
they wont know
'til tomorrowi got static in my head
the reflected sound of everything
tried to go to where it led
but it didn't lead to anything
__January, AC 197__
I leaned back against Nataku, letting her solidity seep into me, hoping she would be able to tell me what to do.
She was silent, as she had been since my confrontation with Heero.
If only I had known...
But deep down, you did know. You knew because it's what you would have done had it been you, had it been your battle.
Had it been Meiran.
I closed my eyes at the thought of her and I rested my cheek against Nataku, feeling a sharp, cold sting through my face.
A shadow fell over me. "This spot taken?"
I opened my eyes slowly. "Maxwell." My breath caught when I saw that his hair was unbound, blowing around his face in the slight breeze that was kicking up. I flexed my fingers, digging them into my thighs, and stumbled over my next words. "A-are you alright?"
"I came to ask you the same thing."
I'm fine, compared to you, I thought. That haunted look in his eyes had been there for days. We all knew he wasn't sleeping, wasn't eating, but none of us knew how to talk to him, least of all me.
Quatre was losing his temper more and more lately, walking around with a perpetually pained look on his face. I'd watched him reach for his heart, only to physically stop himself and lower his arm carefully to his side; his normally neatly manicured nails were bitten around the edges.
Trowa, ever silent, was even more so. It was a brittle silence, though, one that seemed like it would break at any second, every second of every day.
I could hear the two of them arguing at night, Quatre's voice heavy with unshed tears, Trowa trying to be gentle without sounding cold.
And how could I talk to him? I felt partly responsible for Heero's death, felt like I should've known sooner, could've done something about it.
There was also this funny feeling that I always got when I looked at the braided boy that made it impossible for me to talk to him, ever since the time we spent together as prisoners of OZ during the war. It was odd, sort of like my stomach itched from the inside.
I thought, one night, that I knew what it was, but I dismissed the idea as crazy.
When I woke, my heart was pounding from the memory of sweaty limbs entwined in the moonlight, long hair flowing around me, keeping me safe. In my dream, I had twisted my fingers through that hair, had delighted in the feel of long fingers playing over my body. My lips still tingled from the feeling of a warm mouth.
I tried to shake off the feeling. Ben dan, I swore to myself, but it wasn't enough to keep the images away. "Ben dan!"
The oath sounded unsure, even to my own ears.
Fool.
He was with Heero. And I was still working off my dishonor to my dead wife.
I had to keep saying the words, to remind myself. Meiran was dead. And I had loved her so much more than I ever thought I could.
I blinked, rushed back to the present, where Maxwell was still looking at me questioningly, an odd expression for someone whose face looked so flat.
I realized he was actually waiting for an invitation; I had been trying so hard to avoid him that I missed all these little changes in him. "Sit down, Maxwell," I said, more roughly than I meant.
He sat quietly, obediently. I wondered what he was thinking about.
He traced a Yin-Yang in the sand, the Yang on my side, the Yin touching his knee. I watched, almost rapt, and found I couldn't look away. How Duo Maxwell, loudmouthed American and ex-Gundam pilot, knew anything about ancient Chinese symbols was beyond me.
It was the second time in only a few minutes that I realized I knew almost nothing about him.
I stared at the symbol, at what Maxwell was trying to say.
I know how you feel, I yearned to say. Dark, broken, alone: I've felt that way half my life. But you've got it wrong.
He looked up, caught my eye, and smiled before leaning back on his elbows, his knees falling to either side of the etching.
I thought of the picture we must have made sitting there in the beating sun: me in my pristine traditional whites, and he in his usual black priest's garb, minus the collar.
Minus the collar.
"Maxwell," I said quietly. "Where's your collar?"
His hand went to his throat and patted the red turtleneck exploringly. "I stopped wearing it after the Eve Wars. I keep forgetting that you weren't really around."
"Weren't really around," I repeated. "Is that your nice way of saying 'lost it'?"
He laughed, and the sound rippled pleasantly down my spine. "Do I have a nice way of saying anything, Wufei?"
I wanted to laugh back, but I found I couldn't. Half of me pondered if I was right, if he had meant it like that, while the other half
Ni ruo le!
wondered why he called me 'Wufei' instead of one his usual bastardizations.
There was a pause; he was waiting for me to speak, but I had nothing to say.
When he realized I would remain quiet, he continued. "No, no I don't think you lost it. I think... I think, you know, that you were looking for something, and you weren't really sure what it was. Maybe you didn't even know you were looking for anything."
He paused again, his hands going to his hair, combing it out with his fingers. His eyes got very far away. "I think that you felt aimless, useless, and you were searching for a meaning." He slanted a look at me. "We're all looking for meaning, Wufei. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
His fingers deftly worked his hair as he spoke, separating it into three sections. When he stopped speaking he began to braid it, and I held my breath, feeling like I was watching something too personal.
The combination of the words that had hit so close to my heart and the act that I felt I was intruding on was making me physically uncomfortable.
Duo. The word felt foreign to me, even though I hadn't spoken it out loud.
I let my hand play over the tracing in the sand, filling in one side by rubbing my fingers over it.
Duo shifted and was suddenly right in front of me, sitting forward on his knees, the knuckles on his right hand flat to the ground.
I was hyperaware of the back of his hand brushing my calf and had to suppress an involuntary shudder.
He came even closer, and I felt his breath on my cheek as he, in one motion, freed my hair from its tie and then sat back, reaching behind him to fasten the end of his braid.
He smiled, the first genuine smile I had seen from him in days. "I shocked you."
"No."
"I did, I shocked you." He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, studying me. "You look so different like that." In slow motion, his fingers came close to my face, brushing softly over my hair.
I flushed and jerked my head away. "Is this what you came out here for, Maxwell?"
"You want to leave," he said in answer, his fingers reaching again for my hair.
This time I didn't move.
He rubbed some strands between his thumb and middle finger. "Yeah," he went on, his voice rumbling through me. "You want to leave, but you don't know where, and you don't know how. You feel like you did before, like when you 'weren't really around'."
I watched his other hand actually do the air quotes and heat rose to my cheeks again.
"Now I've definitely shocked you."
I was silent.
"No?"
And suddenly his mouth was on mine.
I couldn't pull away; it was the first real human contact that I had had in such a long time, since Meiran.
But it was more than not being able to pull away.
Duo's tongue traced over my mouth and I opened it instinctively.
I didn't want to pull away.
He felt so good against me, his fingers in my hair, cradling my head in his palm, and I clenched my fingers around his knee, pulling him closer.
It was the warmth I had been deprived of, the strength I couldn't find in myself. It was the Yang that was missing from my life, making me feel unbalanced.
But in his tracing, Yang was quite clearly on my side.
I broke the kiss.
"If that didn't shock you," he said, a little breathlessly, "Nothing ever will." He pushed closer again, sliding one hand down my back.
"Duo," I said and he froze.
I lost track of how many minutes we sat like that, my hand on his knee, his forehead resting lightly on my shoulder, his hot breath pooling on my collarbone.
"Duo," I repeated, and he sat back slowly, his eyes once again dim. "Why did you do that?"
He shrugged, his hand going to the drawing again. "I wanted to?"
I chose my words carefully. "How did you know? How I was feeling, I mean -- how did you know?"
He looked up at me, and seemed grateful for the subject change. "I can just see it, looking at you. I can see the look in your eyes, and it's the same one you had before."
I had a feeling that he had also seen it on himself, as I could see it then, but I didn't say it; he didn't want to talk about himself.
"I know you're afraid."
"I'm not afraid," I said automatically.
"Soldiers don't get scared," he said softly.
I furrowed my brow. "What?"
He shook his head. "Just because you're a soldier, a fighter, doesn't mean you can't be afraid. You're confused."
I shrank back a little.
He put a hand out. "It doesn't make you weak, Wu. It makes you human. We're all human. You need to stop looking for something you'll never find, because it's not there."
"I don't know what you're-"
"Yeah, you do. Justice, honor: you've put yourself up to this mission you can't possibly complete. There's peace in the world now; justice has been served and you fought with honor. But you still haven't found them yet, right?"
What was I supposed to say to that? He was right. I still felt like I was missing everything that I had been fighting for, even though it was right in front of me. Even though Heero had taken it and forcibly opened my eyes to it, I felt empty again.
"When my colony was destroyed, it opened up something in me that I never thought I'd fill." When I started speaking, the words came tumbling out and I couldn't stop them. I didn't want to be saying this, didn't want to show this much weakness in front of Duo.
But you're human, I said to myself. Duo said you're human, just like everyone else.
The words wouldn't stop coming. "I thought I could get revenge for them, exact justice. But what I didn't realize was that I had no idea what justice was... not really. I remember thinking that I would decide what was just and what wasn't. But I had no idea." I looked at him and my eyes stung, reminding me of the last time I had cried; it had been the only time I had cried for as long as I could remember.
"And Treize..." Duo said, trailing off.
How do you know me so well?
"And Treize... I thought that with his death it would end, but it didn't. I was still fighting him, still fighting this notion of weakness that I thought was inside me since our duel before the Eve Wars."
"But he wanted what you wanted."
"I never meant to kill him," I said. My eyes watered, and I tried to pass it off as the sun glaring in them, turning my face upwards.
"You have to make peace, in here." He tapped my chest lightly. "You have to take control of your own life, and see that there aren't any more missions, that there's no one left to kill, ever, or anyone here to tell you what to do or where to find justice."
"I've never not taken orders," I said, my heart feeling like it was shattering.
"I know." He paused. "You're so much like him, you know? You two are practically the same person."
"Heero was better than I am."
Duo laughed. "Heero was flawed, just like everyone else. Obsessed with his work, bound by this weird honor that no one else could ever live up to, and he never, and I mean never, filled up the ice-trays when he used the last of the cubes."
I laughed with him this time, although my heart was pained. I felt like there was this wealth of hurt there that would never be eased: hurt for Heero, for Duo, for my clan, for Treize, and for myself.
"You can't fix everything, Wufei." He lay his palm over my heart, the warmth of it beating through the thin cloth of my shirt. "But you do what you can, and it'll get better."
"The Preventers," I said, almost without thinking.
He smiled. "I was wondering when you were going to catch up to the rest of the class, Chang."
I closed my eyes and leaned against Nataku again, her sun-warmed metal a comfort. My heart, shattered, was re-ordering itself -- rebuilding itself.
There was a shift in the air, ever so slight. I didn't have to open my eyes to know that Duo was gone.
I thought about the symbol still etched into the ground in front of me.
I am looking for something, but I've been looking in the wrong place.
"Nataku," I said out loud, "I think it's time we said goodbye."
the noise is coming out,
and if it's not out now,
i know it's just about to drown
tomorrow out
__February, AC 197__
I stand behind the boy who still calls himself Shinigami, watching him try to stifle the shuddering that is wracking his body.
"Wo feichang lei," he says, his breath hitching.
My mouth works, but no sound comes out. Still... still I don't know this person whom I've called comrade for over two years.
I kneel next to him. "I know," I say. I'm not even going to ask how he knew my language, instead I say, "Duibuqi."
He lifts his head, his eyes wide and dry. "Mei guanxi."
"Yes, it does," I say fiercely.
He takes in the sight of my uniform. "You're leaving today."
"Sally will be here in an hour or so, and then we're heading to China." I falter now, wondering what to say. He helped me so much, but I don't know how to help him. He's looking at me, waiting for me to say something.
"Duo." I lean forward and trace a Yin-Yang in the dirt, much like he did for me, except I draw it evenly, centered directly in front of him. "You drew this for me a few weeks ago, but you had it wrong. You're not the Yin in this." I stopped, trying to work out how to say this. "I mean, you are, but you're both. Not just the Yin. That's what this means."
"You're strength," he says and lashes out, obliterating the right side of the symbol. "You're the sun, like he was. What does it mean, Wufei, 'The sunny side of the mountain'?" He laughs hollowly. "That's not me. That's never been me."
He points to the remaining half. "That," he says, "That's me. 'The shadowy slope'. That which comes after the illumination. Destruction. Shinigami."
"You misinterpret it, Duo." I take his hand in mine and redraw the side he wiped out. "Yin isn't death. Well, it is in a way, but not the way you think. It's completion, the close of a chapter. It's what must come after Yang. Rest must come after movement, darkness must come after light."
I pause and watch him take in the information. I wish I could wipe away the hurt in his eyes, and it pains me that no one can do that except Duo himself. "But look at the symbol, really look at it. Yin exists within Yang and the opposite. One cannot be without the other. The idea is that it's everywhere at once, always together."
He stares at the dirt, at the symbol, and he reaches out with his other hand to touch it lightly. The hand I've taken stays there, and he laces his fingers through mine.
"I realized something after our talk, Duo."
It's his turn to be silent.
"That thing I was looking for, it's what you're looking for. But you can't find it anywhere but in yourself. That's where it exists; because if Yin is there, so is Yang. We just have to dig it out a little."
He's just staring at me, his fingers clenched around mine. "Now you've shocked me, Wufei."
"Have I?" And I do something crazy, something that I didn't plan on, didn't even think about.
He makes a small noise as I kiss him, even though this kiss is less frenzied than the last one we shared. It's less intense, meant to be more of a healing gesture, but he's so inviting and warm that the kiss lasts longer than I mean it to.
He pulls back, his mouth lingering on mine a moment more.
"Yeah," he whispers. He looks down. "I've been acting crazy this past month, haven't I?"
I won't lie to him - he wouldn't accept it. "You have. You won't find him, Duo, and you'll kill yourself if you keep this up."
"I just don't know how to let him go."
"You don't have to. It's like I said, with Yin and Yang. They always exist within each other, forever. But you need to find your own balance of the two, without him. Heero did."
He bites his lip, strokes two fingers over my knee.
"He died with honor," I said gently, squeezing his hand. "It's the way he wanted it, the way we should all be so lucky to meet our ends."
Now he looked as if he would cry, but I knew he wouldn't. Shinigami never cries, he had said once, and I knew if he did, it certainly wouldn't be in front of me. I can't stop myself from smiling just a little, to try to ease his pain. "I can look away," I say, as seriously as I can.
He laughs and relief is written all over his face. "A joke! First Heero and now you. Will wonders never cease?"
I stand, pulling him up next to me.
He smiles and it reaches his eyes. The words 'thank you' are unspoken.
"Crazy American," I say as he leans against me. "Come. Quatre's worried sick and I have to meet Sally." At the thought of Sally, I unconsciously pull on the neck of my uniform again. This is right, I think to myself again, trying to stave off any eleventh hour worries.
Duo's hand is at my throat, and he flicks open the top button before moving to the next. I slap his hand away, just barely managing to look indignant. "Do you never stop?"
"Never." And he winks.
A laugh escapes me as we make our way back to the house.
At the sound, Quatre comes outside, a look of pure joy on his face. Trowa is following behind him and he nods to me as his lover rushes to Duo's side, asking if he needs anything.
The look on Trowa's face mirrors Quatre's.
"How about dinner?" Duo asks, still smiling at me.
You're going to be all right, Duo. We all are.
There's another part of my heart that heals when I see Duo's face and some of the life is back in his eyes.
I can hear the beat of a helicarrier's blades in the air nearby, and I feel almost lightheaded. My own peace is so close I can taste it, and I can barely contain myself when the craft lands and Sally steps out.
"Ready?" she asks.
"Yes."
She steps a little closer and reaches out to button up the top button again. Behind me, I distinctly hear almost-muffled laughter.
I turn and glare at them, but that only makes them laugh more.
"Let's go," I say and the others nod at me, Duo raising his hand in a salute.
It's as much thanks as we both need to give.
I turn to board the craft and I hear Nataku in my head again.
Now we say goodbye, she whispers, and I nod, eager to find my peace.
End
Notes:
Mandarin phrases
Ben dan: Moron
Ni ruo le: I'm using it as "weakling", but the literal meaning is "You are weak"
Wo feichang lei: I'm so tired
Duibuqi: I'm sorry
Mei guanxi: It doesn't matter
Woo! Another one down! So, what'ddya think? As always, send all comments, criticisms, and any assorted naughty Duo photos to sparcck@hotmail.com.
Duo: (evilly) Someone already sent her the pair of us dipped in chocolate.
Heero: (glares) Don't remind me.
Duo: Like you didn't like it.
Heero: Hn.
Duo: I didn't hear you complaining when I lic-
Heero: (makes a small sound and grabs Duo's arm) Let's go.
Duo: (whispering conspiratorially) Gets him every time.
Sparcck
Please send comments to: sparcck@hotmail.com
