03-Jul-2001
Well, it's finally done - the last in the 'Angel on Vacation' trilogy.
Angst warnings definitely apply. No kidding.
Lemme know what you think? <:)
//I stood on mountaintops
That overlooked the world
I can't find anything
Except a void inside//
I wrap my hands around the bar, straining to pull myself up. It should be easy for me; I should be able to lift more than twice my own weight.
I'm gasping for breath by the time I lower myself. I've lost so much... time is my enemy, the Great Destroyer.
I pull my legs into position, then release the brakes and start off with a push.
I've gotten good at getting around in a wheelchair. They say I'm coming along remarkably well, that I've accomplished this much in half the time it usually takes.
Somehow I can't take pride in that; this body that used to be capable of anything is now my prison, failure my constant companion. It's ironic that I used to long for solitude, used to seek out privacy. I've had too much solitude. The part of me that would have wanted it is dead, along with my legs and what little self-respect I had.
I failed.
I failed.
The words fit right into the rhythm of my hands pushing the wheels forward. I wonder what he's thinking, what he's doing.
I wonder if he's waiting for me. I wonder if I want him to.
//I went to places where
I could forget your name
I can't find anything
Except a void inside//
I almost wish I could blame it on him, but nothing could be further from the truth. It wasn't his fault, it was mine. My lapse. My lack of concentration. My stupidity. My carelessness. My clumsiness.
I failed.
It all happened so fast - one slip, and then a whirlwind I couldn't control, my heart freezing in my chest, breath caught in my throat, eyes seeing nothing but the blur of fast-approaching ground and then pain pain pain pain pain.
I failed.
I wanted to think I could brush it aside, that night, that I could get out of bed, wash his scent from my skin and go on about my mission like a machine. Wanted to think I could forget about the *vital* sensation of arms around me, heat and comfort and feelings I'd never known. Wanted to believe it didn't mean any more to me than it did to him.
I failed.
//I don't have anything
Because I don't have you
I don't have anything//
He touched me. Duo. Just thinking about him makes me feel things I don't understand, powerful, unnameable things. Dangerous things. Things that can't be put into words. It's strange that everything about him makes me feel like I'm falling apart, straining to keep control... I'm not capable of holding all these feelings; I can't contain them. Everything about him undoes me. The way his mouth twists into that wry grin, bitterness and humor. The way his eyes gleam when he's a hair's breadth from death. The way his body moves, smooth and feline. And his voice. And his hair...
If I had the soul of a poet, I could spend my whole life trying, and failing, to put it all into words, these things he makes me feel. Words pale in comparison. It's just as well I'm nothing but a soldier.
He touched me. He said he wanted to.
It's more than I ever deserved.
//What can I buy to make
The sky turn blue again
Where can I go to feel
Like I'm alive again//
I sometimes think my whole lifetime's worth of emotion was poured into the short time I had with him. I'd never felt so... vulnerable. Or so happy; for a few minutes I was able to fool myself into thinking that I mattered, that someone cared - that *he* cared.
If Heaven exists, it must be like that, except for real. Being loved, cherished.
I push my way down the hallway, turn the corner and push some more.
I failed.
I failed.
I'm turning into the machine I always feared myself to be.
//Show me the places
Where I can forget your name
I can't find anything
Except a void inside//
I dream about him, every time I sleep. Sometimes I dream that he's calling to me, that he's hurt by my absence, that he aches for me as I do for him... that there's a hole in his soul to match mine.
Sometimes I dream that he's glad, because he no longer has to put up with my maddening habits. Sometimes I dream that he and the others are together, having a party or just spending time together, and they're happy because I'm not there to ruin the mood. Sometimes... sometimes I think they're better off.
But that's not when I'm dreaming. That's when I'm wide awake.
//I don't have anything
Because I don't have you
I don't have anything//
It's not like I have anything to offer, not now. Not that I ever really did, but at least then I was a whole man. Boy. Soldier. Automaton. Whatever; it doesn't really matter. I was nothing to anybody, most of all myself.
I failed.
Now I'm less than half a person; it would be better if I'd never known. If he'd never touched me. It was easier being alone, when I didn't know enough to feel lonely.
There are worse things than being a machine; machines don't have to feel.
//I've been stripped of everything
Except some flesh that bleeds//
I could go see him. See how he is. See if he misses me. Maybe he won't mind my being like this...
Or maybe he'll laugh. It's ludicrous, that anyone would want a broken toy soldier... but I was broken long before the accident. I was broken from the first time he touched me, and told me he did it "just because." That was the first time I realized I had an Achilles Heel.
Duo.
He made me feel... made me need... turned me into the closest thing to human I could ever be.
And then he smiled, and said "just because," and that was when I realized I *could* be hurt.
Just like a regular person.
//And I've been robbed of everything
Except a soul, except a soul
That needs... you, sweet you//
The wheels roll along the sidewalk, slowly; it's been a long trip, and I'm tired, muscles burning with fatigue... but I tell myself it's only a little longer, just as I've done before and will do again.
It was pathetically easy to escape the hospital; I can't help but sneer at their so-called security. How could anyone miss a guy in a wheelchair making a "run" for it?
No matter, though; I'm almost there. My heart is pumping like mad; I don't know whether I feel fear or anticipation or longing - I only know that it aches, that everything in me is on edge waiting for just one glimpse of his face...
...and there he is, walking up to the apartment building across the street... our apartment building. Just as I remembered him, slender and perfect, hair and eyes and voice... and he's smiling... but not at me. Quatre is with him, and just as I'm thinking that of course his best friend would be with him, they turn to each other, standing too close, smiling at each other, lips almost brushing in what would be a kiss were they not in public.
Just because.
Duo. And Quatre.
Quatre freezes, and clutches at his chest, and the last thing I see before I turn and wheel away is Duo bending over him, looking at him with that expression I thought - I hoped - was for me alone. I don't stop until I'm straining for breath, and there are strange noises coming from my throat even though I try to hold them back.
My eyes are wet.
I'm becoming the human I always feared myself to be.
//I don't have anything
Because I don't have you
I don't have anything //
Duo...
OWARI
I Don't Have Anything
Copyright © Vast
Can be found on the album "Music For People"
I do not own Gundam Wing, and the characters and situations are being used without permission. This is a fan work, intended solely for entertainment purposes, and is not intended as any claim to copyright of the characters or situations which were not created by me, nor is any disrespect whatsoever intended toward the creators and rightful owners of this wonderful anime.
(:./yoiko/anything)
