25-Oct-2002

Title: " ...I Am Shinigami"
Author: RurouniTriv
Disclaimers: Ain't mine. Never will be. Just playing with 'em, I'll give 'em back when I'm done.
Warnings: Slight shonen ai. Nothing graphic. Um... I guess you'd have to call this one a deathfic, but it isn't your standard angst-fest. Probably OOC, not much in the way of plot.
Notes: Okay, I posted this over to the contest that Velena & Lil Boof are running ( [url]http://pub27.ezboard.com/bduoshauntedhouse[/url] - head over there for more stuff, and post your own if you've got 'em!) but I'm going to be headed out of town & without net access in a couple days and I wanted to get this out here before Halloween. So, here 'tis! Have a happy Halloween. ::laughs evilly as she wanders off, muttering about frogs and snails and puppy-dog tails::

" ...I Am Shinigami" by RurouniTriv

March 21, A.C. 201 was a Thursday. It started out as a perfectly ordinary, rather nice day on the L2 colony of 84623-uyj, called Bastion by its inhabitants. The sun was shining outside (but then, being a colony, the sun was always shining outside except when it was in eclipse), the weather was nice (the end of the war had freed up certain areas of funding that finally allowed the colony to repair its atmospheric controls) and all seemed right with the world. The war was over, there was peace between Earth and the colonies, and Bastion even had its own (semi-)tame hero, a former Gundam pilot who'd grown up in the L2 colony cluster and returned after the Mariemaia incident, one Duo Maxwell. He'd come to the colony and had been a major part of turning things around, using his notoriety as a Gundam pilot, the money he'd returned from the war with (this being an L2 colony, no one was inclined to look too closely at the source of that money) and his undeniable charm to help improve conditions on Bastion. He'd been living on the colony for three years, and the standard of living had skyrocketed from being the dregs of the already poor L2 cluster to the shining star of the cluster's ascent from grinding poverty to a reasonable place to live and raise a family.

Which made it all the more tragic that when the regular shuttle between Earth and the L2 cluster suffered a fatal engineering failure due to a hit from a micrometeorite, it slammed directly into Bastion, shattering its hull and killing 87% of Bastion's unsuspecting inhabitants.

Among the bodies recovered was that of Duo Maxwell.

The remaining Gundam pilots had assembled, as they had after the death of Duo Maxwell almost 20 years before, to support one of their own.

"I hate hospitals," Quatre said quietly, rubbing his chest. His empathic abilities - his 'space heart' as he called it - always gave him trouble in highly emotional situations, especially when someone he cared about was in pain. And right now, they were all in pain. Of them all, Wufei was actually in the least pain, because he was comatose. He'd chased a former White Fang member turned freelance terrorist through one of Kyoto's less reputable areas and wound up getting shot in a narrow, filthy alley. The doctors in the emergency room had cleaned the wounds as best they could, but something had gotten into his system and was tearing him apart from the inside. The doctors had induced a coma to keep him from feeling the pain, but they were anything but optimistic about his chances.

Trowa moved with his usual silence to support Quatre, hands resting on the smaller man's shoulders. Quatre leaned back with a sigh, resting his head on the quiet ex-pilot's shoulder. Quatre had only grown a few inches taller than he had been when they were in the war together, although he'd gained a much more solid build.

"It's times like these that I miss Duo," Heero said. As he had when Duo had died, he'd somehow heard about what had happened to Wufei and had emerged from whatever shadows he lived in to stand by his old comrades. "He'd have had us rolling on the floor by now. Granted, we'd probably be trying to strangle him for being so blasted irreverent, but at least we wouldn't be moping around." His voice was oddly wistful, not something that one associated with the stoic ex-pilot of Wing Gundam.

There was a low, rich chuckle from the doorway behind them, and they whirled. They hadn't heard the door open, hadn't heard anyone come in.

Leaning back against the door was Duo Maxwell. Not an older version of him, but rather the exact same young man they'd known in their twenties, taller and more heavily built than he'd been when they were teenagers, but still unmistakably Duo. "Nice to know you've missed me, Heero." He grinned at them, his usual cheerful expression, but to anyone who knew him as well as his fellow pilots, he showed a subtle tension in the way his arms were crossed, the way that the foot propped up against the door twitched slightly like he wanted to tap his foot, a hundred little things that only a friend could see.

The same thing erupted out of three throats at the exact same time. "Duo?!?"

His grin grew a bit wicked at the surprise in their faces. "Hey, I run, I hide, but I never lie, remember? I am Shinigami. And you can't kill Death."

"We saw your body," Trowa said, still trying to grasp it. "We even had a DNA scan done to confirm it... it was you!"

"It was. I was Duo Maxwell, in that incarnation. A human boy, with human limitations... mostly. Call it a vacation, a chance to experience life from the beginning instead of just being there for its end. Now I'm Shinigami again. I'm back on the job." He looked almost sad for a moment. "I thought I'd have a little talk with you guys since I'm here," he shrugged.

Heero walked up to him, eyes narrowed. He didn't say anything, just cataloged the face he'd known 18 years before, that he'd never thought he'd see again, gaze darting from the eyes to the mouth to the thick braid draped over one shoulder. Then he leaned in and kissed him.

Duo's eyes went wide for a moment, before he melted against Heero's body. He drew back after a long moment. "Whoa. Where did that come from?"

Heero smiled. "I missed you."

Duo scowled. "Well why the hell didn't you miss me when I was still human, you baka? We could've done a lot more than just stealing a quick kiss here, you know?" He pushed the other pilot away gently. "Too busy being the Perfect Soldier, and then you just made like the Cheshire Cat - only you didn't even leave a smile. Baka." His words were hard, but there was a warm affection in his tone and expression. "Life's for living, and it doesn't last forever. You were a soldier long enough to know that."

"I didn't want to think about it during the war. And then after... "

"After, you were so sick of killing and death that you ran as far as you could get from anyone who reminded you of them, including me," Duo said gently. "I understand that." He bopped Heero lightly against the head, the only one of them who could get away with such things when they were young. "But it's still stupid!"

"Duo," Quatre said hesitantly, "why are you here?"

The braided young man looked affectionately at the blond Arabian. "You know why, Quatre. You just don't want to admit it."

"Wufei," Trowa said flatly.

"Hai. It's his time. I've chosen this aspect to come for him. Figured it'll be easier if he sees a familiar face, huh?"

"I don't understand," Heero said.

Duo smiled. "Look." He gestured, and a faceted globe of crystal suddenly appeared in his hand. "Think of this as Shinigami. The whole Me. The me you see here before you is the Duo aspect, the one that lived as a mortal among mortals during your lifetimes. This me is like a single facet on this crystal - if you were a little ant or something crawling on the crystal, you might see just that facet. What you see is really me, but it's not the whole Me. That's bigger than you can see. And don't bother asking me to show you the whole Me, because the only way you can see that is to step Outside of life... and that means dying. It's not your time, so I can't show you, and I wouldn't if I could. There are very, very few who get more than a glimpse of My Reality and live to tell about it, and those few generally come back... different. Very different. Think Jesus of Nazareth and the guy who founded the Thuggee cult." He rolled his eyes. "What a psycho he was." He shook his head. "In any case, I just figured that I'd see if you guys wanted to say your goodbyes before Wufei left. It's not going to be much longer."

"He's in a coma," Trowa said with a frown. "The doctors induced it medically, it's not something that he's going to come out of on his own. And if he is not aware, then why bother?"

Duo snorted. "Trowa, you're talking to the God of Death here. If I say he's going to be awake and at least temporarily be strong enough to talk to you, he will be. I can't not take him, that's not a choice I have and anyway, the damage he's taken could never be healed, but I can choose to block the pain for a little while, I can choose to wake him up and give him the strength to talk to you. That's part of why I chose to be the one who came for him and why I chose to reveal myself to you." His smile twisted. "It gets kind of old, ferrying souls across, and most people just want to get where they're going and get the hell away from me. Not many of them stick around long enough to talk."

"And when our times come, will it be you who comes for us as well?" Quatre asked quietly.

"Unless you specifically ask otherwise, yes. Like I said, it generally helps to see a familiar face." He pulled the door open. "Come on, we don't want to keep him waiting. He may not be conscious, but he is aware enough to realize there's something very wrong, and I'm pretty sure he's been having nightmares. Besides, Meiran is waiting for him, and she's never been the patient sort." He walked out of the waiting room and down the hall toward the intensive care unit.

"His first wife?" Trowa asked quietly.

"Yeah. He called his Gundam 'Nataku' after her, you know. She was even more obsessed with justice than he was. And considering some of the late-night ranting that Wu-chan used to do... especially after a bit of sake... that's a pretty scary thought."

They followed the laughing, chattering God of Death down the corridor, noticing that no one else seemed to see any of them, and walked right by the Preventer guard posted outside Wufei's door. Heero looked speculative for a moment as he poked the oblivious guard, but Duo reached back and grabbed him, hauling him in. "Come on, Heero! Time waits for no one, and Wu-chan's reaching the end of his." They entered the ICU ward.

Wufei lay on the bed, face pale with an ominous bluish undertone visible under the faded bronze of his skin. He looked so small, so fragile. Like Quatre, he'd never grown very tall, but unlike Quatre he hadn't added much in the way of muscle mass, remaining whipcord lean. Indeed, of them all he had changed the least from their days in the Gundams. Always driven, cool, and intelligent, always counting justice higher than his personal feelings. He'd worked his way up through the ranks of the Preventers, but he'd refused to get stuck behind a desk. He had always declared that he was a warrior, not a bureaucrat - usually at length when people tried to convince him to take a desk job. He wanted to be in the thick of the action.

He had been. And now, he was out of the game for good.

"Oi, Wu-chan," Duo said with a grin, reaching down to muss the sleek strands of Wufei's hair, black shot through with the occasional strand of grey. "Wakey-wakey. We're going on a little road trip."

"Go away Maxwell," he grumbled, half asleep.

"No can do, Wu-man. Up and at 'em, we got things to do. Promises to keep and miles to go before we sleep, and all that stuff."

Wufei opened his eyes in a glare. "Don't call me Wu-man," he snapped, and then he came awake. His eyes went wide as he took in the tall form of the braided ex-pilot. "Maxwell? I'm dead. I'm dead, and this is Hell... " But there was a faint trace of a smile around his face.

Duo stuck his tongue out. "You aren't dead quite yet, and the guys want to talk to you before you are. Try to be nice."

The dying man looked past his resurrected friend and smiled faintly at the other ex-Gundam pilots. "So, have you come to see me off on my journey to the west?"

"Hai," Heero said quietly. "The braided baka said that you don't have much time and we wanted to say goodbye."

"Hn. We'll see each other again, I think. If not in this life then in another." He struggled to sit up, sweat popping out on his face. "I thank you all for the gift of your friendship," he said, bowing as best he could despite his obvious pain. "Know that you all have my deepest respect, and that I shall think of you often. May... may we meet again soon." He began to sway, and Duo eased him down.

"Baka," he chided fondly. "Are you trying to make your life shorter? That could have waited until you were out-of-body, you know."

"Ah, but would they see? And would it mean so much that I did it when it was easy as it does that I did it when it was hard?" He was panting for breath as he spoke, and Duo retreated.

"I'll be over by the window. You guys say whatever it is you have to say, but make it fast. It's almost time."

Duo stayed by the window, looking out over the city and fiddled with his braid while the others spoke to Wufei. They took turns by unspoken accord, allowing each other a bit of privacy.

Heero was the first to speak to him, and gave way to Quatre, who took the longest and was predictably the most emotional of them. Trowa joined him, as they had been joined since their days as Gundam pilots, and spoke quietly with them both while Heero melted back, distancing himself emotionally and physically. He'd said his goodbyes. Now he watched Duo, seeing how the sun streaming through the window both struck him and passed through him. The braided man cast an odd shadow, almost as if he bore batlike wings on his back.

Heero could hear Wufei's breath grow more shallow and labored and knew it that it wouldn't be long now. He started as Duo, who had been standing unusually close to still, turned and walked toward the bed. "It's time, guys," he said gently. "I can't block the pain any more, and he's got a very impatient lady waiting for him."

There was a part of Heero that wanted to protest, wanted to fight for his friend's life. But then he saw how Wufei reached out for Duo, how Duo looked at Wufei not like a conqueror or a thief but as a friend, and saw how Wufei's face, tense with the effort of taking another breath, relaxed, and the impulse died utterly. Duo shone from the inside with a light as bright as the crystal that he'd summoned from thin air only minutes before, eyes warm and caring, and Heero let go of his old friends, both of them, letting them fly.

Wufei's physical hand dropped lifelessly off the edge of the bed, but his spirit still held onto Duo, who pulled slightly as Wufei's soul shed his body like a snake sheds its outgrown skin. The Wufei who swung his legs off his deathbed wasn't the rather tired and jaded career Preventer whom they had known, but rather something closer to the warrior spirit they had known in younger days, the fiery 'little dragon' of his pilot days merged with the fierce guardian of his maturity.

They gazed at each other, the living and the dead, for a long moment. Duo, predictably enough, was the one to break the silence. "I'll be seeing you guys again. And it better be a long time from now, you hear? I'm gonna want to hear about all the stuff you guys did, so make sure there's a lot for us to catch up on!" he scolded with a grin, then threw his arm over Wufei's shoulder. "Come on, Wu-chan, you got a hot date waiting for you. We gotta move. Ja ne!" he said with a wave to the others as the two of them moved toward the unknowable, walking through the wall and fading from view.

The three surviving Gundam pilots looked at each other. "Well, that was interesting," Heero said after a long moment of silence.

The guard, hearing someone speaking in the room he was guarding, hurried in just as the medical alarms began to sound Wufei's death-knell. In the confusion that resulted from the medical team rushing in to try to resuscitate him, the trio managed to slip away.

They got very drunk that night.

Trowa woke feeling distinctly odd. It was a good kind of odd, mind you, but still odd. He tried hard to place in his mind exactly what it was that was strange, but he'd been sleeping most of the day... he'd been sleeping more than most of the day, actually. During one of the trips that he and Quatre had taken to L3, he'd been exposed to a particularly nasty disease. It wasn't particularly contagious, fortunately, but it was painful, debilitating, and ultimately fatal. Only a small percentage of people were vulnerable to its effects. Trowa was one of them. Quatre was not. The short Arabian had been taking care of Trowa for months now without a rest, and it was rather odd that he wasn't here now.

He understood a bit better when a shadow detached itself from a corner of the room. "Hey, Trowa," Duo said with his characteristic cheerfulness. "Welcome to my world." He reached out, as he had to Wufei, and like Wufei, Trowa reached out to him, slipping the bonds of his body with the same gratitude that a prisoner might slip his shackles.

"It doesn't hurt any more," Trowa said in surprise as he turned to look at the wasted, aged body that he'd shed so willingly.

"Yeah, I know," Duo said. "For some reason that always confuses people. Come on, let's go downstairs. We can chat a little more comfortably down there." He bounced out, moving through the door as if it weren't there. Trowa followed rather hesitantly.

"You came earlier to Wufei," the tall man said quietly.

"Wufei didn't have a chance to say his goodbyes to you guys before. You did. You knew I was coming, after all, and Wu-chan figured that he'd have loads of time." Duo shrugged. "He didn't. That's why I try to tell people to show their loved ones how they feel while they're alive, when I'm in a mortal incarnation. Not that I'm always that good about it myself, mind you," he said with a grin and a wink, "but then, I know that I will get a chance eventually."

"Quatre... can I talk to him, one more time before we go?"

Duo grinned, but there was an edge of wistfulness to his smile. "Actually, he's the one we're waiting for. He should be along shortly."

Trowa whipped around from where he was standing by the music rack. He and Quatre had spent many happy hours in this music room, losing themselves in the music and the harmony they created. "Waiting for... you can't take him! He's not even sick!" Without even realizing he'd moved, he found himself slamming Duo into the wall. "I will not let you... "

"Enough." It was the voice of Shinigami, God of the Dead, and it stopped Trowa cold, as did the flashing eyes that glared at him. He'd seen that look before in Duo's eyes, but never directed at him. Very few who had survived the experience. "Calm down. I'm glad you've learned to express yourself, but I don't choose who lives or dies. That's not my job. I merely ferry souls to their destination, and I am not allowed to pick and choose who I take where. That's decided by powers far greater than mine." His voice gentled as he brushed the thick bang away from Trowa's face so that he could see both eyes.

It immediately fell forward again and Duo sighed and rolled his eyes. "Listen, Trowa. From the moment you two were born, you were destined to meet. From the moment you met, you were bound to each other, soul to soul. The more time you spent together, the stronger that bond became. Wherever one of you goes, the other follows. I will not force him to die. I have played no part in his decision to die. If he were utterly terrified of Me, he would still follow you."

"In other words, he's dying because of me." The expression in Trowa's eyes was terrible.

"You gave him a reason to live this long," Duo said gently. "Without you, the loneliness would have killed him ages ago. He's the kind that needs someone to give himself to heart and soul, who needs to have someone do the same to him. His abilities allow him to know without a doubt just how much of his feelings are returned, and the... depth of his soul means that he needs someone just as deep to match him. Most people don't have what he needed. They're too shallow. You're both old souls, Trowa. You've been around for many incarnations - you'll see that when we get to the Outside. And some of those incarnations you died first, and some he died first: accident, violence, disease, simple old age, it doesn't matter. Where one goes the other follows. I don't know if he's aware of the other incarnations you have had on a conscious level, but he knew that he wouldn't outlast you by more than a few hours even if he tried. And he didn't want to try."

Trowa wet his lips. "He's already done it then?"

Duo nodded. "Hai. He's coming downstairs now."

Trowa frowned. "I would have thought you would have come to him personally the way you did for Wufei and I, rather than make him come to you."

Duo chuckled. "I did. The laws of nature say that a corporeal form can only be in one place at a time. But we aren't corporeal any more." The last sentence came out in stereo as a second Duo walked in, followed by Quatre. The two Duos walked directly into each other and merged. "Now, any goodbyes to be said, anything left undone?"

"I sent Heero an email," Quatre said, "and I'm sure he'll make certain that the letters I wrote for our family and the Maganacs and some of our other friends are given to them. Wills have been drawn up for years, servants have been cut down to just a couple who come in every two days... I think I've gotten everything."

Duo shook his head. "You are incredibly organized, you know that?"

Quatre shrugged, his once-more blond hair shining brightly in the shadows of the darkened music room. "Force of habit. I have been running the family business for the past forty years or so, after all. And with twenty-nine sisters and their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren to look after, even our family fortune needed to be watched over carefully."

Duo chuckled. "Your family does tend to go for large reunions - when you can get them all together."

Trowa laughed quietly. "Last time we got them all together we had to rent a small colony."

"Yes, well, you were the one who insisted on bringing Catherine's circus," Quatre said mildly. "The entire circus."

Trowa looked innocent. "Well, can you think of a better way to keep the little ones entertained?"

Duo chuckled. "He's got my vote on that one, Q-man. Come on, we've got to get moving here." He wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders. "I think you're going to like it where we're going."

Heero heard the baby fussing and got up, yawning. "I'm too damned old for this," he grumbled, wishing that Maya hadn't left the infant with them for the weekend. He loved his grandson, but at times like these he wished the boy was old enough to sleep through the entire night.

He walked over to the spare room and picked up his grandson and checked his diaper. After changing it, Heero carried him over to the rocking chair in the corner. Settling down in it, he started humming a lullaby. He wasn't much of a singer, especially when only half-awake, but the familiar voice and the rhythmic movement of the chair was enough to lull the baby into sleep. He was very close to drifting off himself when he felt a sudden chill.

"If you're here for me, can I at least put the baby back in his crib first?" he asked quietly, not wanting to wake the little one. "And if you could hold off until Monday, that would be even better. Maya's supposed to come pick him up Sunday evening."

"I'm here strictly as a messenger," Duo chuckled. "Quatre thought that you'd rather hear from me than see it in the email tomorrow morning."

"Trowa?"

"Both of them, actually. Trowa was rather annoyed about that, but he got over it once he realized that it was natural causes rather than me deciding I'd rather just make one trip."

Heero's eyes narrowed in thought as he stood and placed the 16-month-old back in his crib. "Quatre's space heart? He's always had a special link with Trowa."

Duo nodded. "Got it in one. Mind you, Tro-chan was more than a little peeved before he got that through his head, but like I told him, I just captain the shuttle, I'm not the one who assigns the seating and picks the destination. Speaking of which, your daughter's going to be a little late picking up the munchkin there."

Heero's head snapped around. "Nani?!? Duo, omae o... "

"Whoa, hold on there Heero, don't do anything rash. She's fine. It's just that while she was headed to - well, wherever it is she was headed to - she ran across a train wreck and stayed to pitch in. Hippocratic Oath and all that. Now calm down before you wake up the kid, will you?" He gestured placatingly. "Yeesh. You'd think that you'd have quit threatening to kill people all the time by now."

Heero gritted his teeth. "I make an exception for you. Besides, it's 3 a.m. and I'm not as young as I," he yawned, losing his annoyed expression, "used to be."

Duo grinned disarmingly. "Right. I'll let you get back to bed, then."

"Duo?" Shinigami turned, looking curious. "Stay a little longer, please? I really am glad to see you. I just... I'm not ready to go, you know? Not ready to lose my family, and I don't want to hurt my wife. She's been through enough with losing her first husband all those years ago, and I don't want to leave her to deal with Du-chan alone." His lips quirked in a sideways smile. "I should have known better than to name him after you, he's as much a hellraiser as you were. But I couldn't resist it when I realized there were twins, you know? It just felt so right. Solo and Duo."

Duo chuckled. "Yeah, I know. I think you'll find that he'll calm down though, if you can just keep from killing him until he outgrows that teenaged rebellion. For what it's worth, unless you do something spectacularly stupid or get very unlucky you should be around for years yet. I can... sense health problems, you know? And you're in better shape than most men half your age." He jerked his head. "Come on, let's talk somewhere we don't have to worry about waking up little Jake. I've got some time to spare, it didn't take as long to get Trowa and Quatre settled as I thought."

Heero looked as if he was going to ask something, then shook his head. "If I ask about where you took them, you aren't going to answer, are you?"

Duo shrugged. "I can't. No human language can explain it, and it'd mess up your mind if I tried. Simpler just to say that they're safe and happy and together. 'And there shall be no weeping nor wailing nor gnashing of teeth' and all that."

"'And Death shall have no dominion?'" Heero finished the quote.

Duo chuckled. "Well, since I'm Shinigami and I'm not in charge over there, I suppose that's true enough. I'm a bit surprised that you recognized the quote though. I wouldn't have thought you'd be interested in Christian theology."

"I'm not really. But you always wore that cross, you know? It got me curious."

"They aren't any closer than anyone else, actually. Mortal minds simply aren't equipped to comprehend what's Outside of this world."

They talked for almost an hour, of times past and times yet to come, joking and smiling and enjoying a chance to be together after so long apart, before Duo stood reluctantly. "I gotta go, Heero. Places to go, people to lead Outside. Take care of yourself, willya? I don't want to come here on business any time soon." He gave a faint smile.

"I'll do my best," Heero said, one hand reaching up slightly. He wanted to touch his friend - his love - but he wasn't sure if it would be permitted. Wasn't entirely sure that it was right or honorable to want him so badly when he was married to someone else.

Duo saw the aborted movement and pulled Heero into his arms. "Live long. Live well. I'll be waiting, no matter how long it takes."

Heero gazed through the viewscreen into space, dark blue eyes still sharp, though they were surrounded by a mass of wrinkles. Outside, the darkness of space was shattered by the birth and sudden death of a tiny new star as the last of the invading aliens was destroyed. "Say hello to Shinigami for me," he chuckled, the faded echo of the mad cackling that he'd been known for in his teenaged battles. He hadn't been as infamous as Duo for his mockery of their foes, but he'd definitely enjoyed unleashing his repressed pain and anger on his enemies back in those days. Now, only the faintest trace of that all-consuming wrath remained. Just enough, as it turned out, to defeat the most deadly foe that Earth had ever faced.

He shivered as he felt a cool draft, one that smelled oddly of green plants and fresh-turned earth.

"General Yuy?" his aide asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," he answered a bit testily. "I'm just tired." He stood with an effort, and his aide hurried over to bring him his cane. "I'm a hundred and nine years old, I think I'm entitled to that."

"Of course, sir," his aide said, all admiration as always. "Now that we've defeated the Hark'nasai, I'm sure that you'll be able to rest."

"Oh, I know I will. Ensign Hakamura, open up communications with the World Council."

The main viewscreen flickered from its former view of the now-empty starscape to show a group of men and women seated at a semi-circular table in an palatial hall. "Ladies and gentlemen of the World Council, I bring you victory. Use it well, and remember the lessons that my generation taught you and your ancestors in how to rebuild your lives, better than they ever were before. I wish this world peace and freedom. Good luck. You'll need it." A gesture to the communications ensign, and communications was cut.

He looked around the bridge of the U.E.S.S. Duo Maxwell with a faint smile, then back to the ensign. "Patch me through to the fleet. All stations." A moment of activity on the ensign's part, and the ensign nodded confirmation. He could hear himself faintly as he spoke, the sound of his voice transmitted through all the corridors of all the ships and bases on Earth and off it. "You all know I'm a man of few words, so I'll make this short. You've done well, soldiers. Time to go home." The bridge crew cheered, weary as he was of battle.

He nodded farewell to them and walked carefully to the elevator, which took him to his quarters and settled down in the one real luxury that he allowed himself, a comfortable chair built specially to conform to his old and aching bones. "Mission log 25731. Last enemy ship defeated. The war is over, and the wheel has turned. As my life began in a time of war, so it shall end with the end of another war. I only hope that if such an enemy returns, there might be someone who will be strong enough to lead the world in defending itself. Shinigami knows that I was very nearly too old and weak to accomplish the task. So many lost. So many dead. My son Duo, three of my grandchildren, and even I can't keep track of all my great-grandchildren who died in this invasion. My only comfort lies in knowing that Duo will take care of them and lead them safely to whatever lies Outside this life. I'll be finding that out soon enough, I know. In any case, mission complete. The task of rebuilding falls to others. I hope that they'll be successful." He clicked off the computer and settled back into his chair.

"Sir?"

Heero started. He'd forgotten his aide was still there. "Yes, Max? And you can call me grandfather, you know. I won't report you. Wouldn't even if we were still at war, as long as you didn't do while we were on-duty."

"I know that, sir. But you are my commanding officer. I was just... are the stories true? Did you make a deal with Death not to take you?"

Heero chuckled. "Ask Shinigami for eternal life? Gods, no. I just knew him when he was a mortal for a while. We were friends back then. Still are, I suppose, we just haven't seen each other since... well, since your grandfather Duo died seven years ago. We've both been rather busy after all, me killing Hark'nasai and him collecting the souls - if they have any. He only comes to me when someone dies, someone close to me. There aren't many these days who fit that description." He sighed. "I think I would have welcomed him much sooner than this, but I don't like to leave a mission incomplete."

Max frowned. "Sir? You... welcome death?" His voice was as worried as his eyes.

"Max. You are my great-grandson, and probably the most ardent member of my fan-club," Heero said dryly. "As such, I'm sure you have at least some idea of the kind of life I've had. I literally cannot remember a time before my combat training began. I was twelve when the closest thing I'd ever had to a father died in my arms, after teaching me how to be an assassin. I was fifteen when I went to Earth to fight the OZ/Romefeller War. I was seventeen when I fought the Mariemaia War. I lost the love of my life by the time I was old enough to legally drink. I married your great-grandmother when I was thirty, and took on the responsibility for her two children, and we had two more children together. I have had three careers, not counting my years as a Gundam pilot, and was called upon to lead this war when I was ninety-one because I was quite literally the only person alive who had any real combat experience. The friends of my youth have been dead longer than you've been alive, and so have most of my enemies. I've had a long, hard life. So no, I don't fear death. I didn't when I was young and a soldier because I had nothing to live for. I don't now because - well, pick up that Bible on the counter there and open it to where it's marked."

The young man picked up the plain black book - idly noting the words "Property of Maxwell Church" stamped on one corner of the worn cover - and opened it to the page marked by a black ribbon holding a rather battered golden crucifix. The highlighted text seemed to jump off the page and onto his tongue. "'For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven'... " He looked over at Heero.

"A time to be born and a time to die, a time of war and a time of peace. And my time is very nearly up. Don't mourn that. The wheel turns, my young friend, and death is nothing to be feared. Shinigami can be dark, but he's not evil."

Max bit his lip. "You were serious when you said that he was a mortal. Those stories that my mom used to tell me, they were real?"

"As real as you or I. You were named after him, you know. Duo Maxwell. Quite possibly the least likely candidate for an incarnation of death that ever walked the Earth." He smiled softly. "The most loud-mouth, obnoxiously cheerful guy I've ever met, and just what I needed to teach me how to live instead of just survive. I just wish that we'd had more time together. If I hadn't been such an idiot, I'd have cuffed us together with gundanium and 'lost' the key permanently."

There was a low chuckle from one corner of the room. "Now wouldn't that have amused Wufei? Remember how he laughed when Trowa and Quatre finally told us they were sleeping together?" Violet-blue eyes rolled in amusement.

Heero chuckled at the young man who emerged from the shadows. "I remember. It only took them three years to admit what we'd all figured out... Max, put the gun down, it's just Duo."

"That is not my grandfather."

"No," the braided stranger said, "I'm Duo Maxwell, your grandfather's namesake and yours. Your family knows me as Shinigami." Violet eyes danced as the gun in Max's hand sagged and his eyes bugged out. He walked over to the stunned young man and gently closed his mouth with one finger.

The shock was only momentary, and Max snapped his gun up under Duo's chin, prussian blue eyes - almost identical to his great-grandfather's - blazing with anger.

"Max! Put it down!"

"My job is to protect you!"

"Your mission is complete," Heero said quietly. "And successful. The war is over. We won. And now, it's time for me to go with Duo. Stand down, soldier."

"Sir... grandfather... "

"Do it. I'm tired, Max. So very, very tired. I miss my friends. I miss my wife and children. I'm ready to go. Don't make this harder on both of us."

Max looked torn, then defeated. "Grandfather." He put his gun back in its holster, shoulders slumping.

"I know, you can't understand this. Can't understand how I could want to go with him. But I do. A time for every purpose, remember? Now come here." He beckoned the young man close to him and reached up to give him a hug, feeling very tired. "Give my love to the family, will you? And don't worry about me, I'll be just fine with Duo." He chuckled quietly. "And just think, you'll be able to tell your grandchildren that you've seen Shinigami in the flesh and lived to tell the tale."

"I'll miss you," the younger man whispered.

"Of course you will. And I'll miss you. But we'll meet again. Make sure it's not too soon, you hear?" Max nodded, eyes shimmering with tears, and Heero reached up with one withered hand to cup his great-grandson's cheek. "Be well and blessed, Maxwell Yuy. Remember me, and carry on. Of all my descendants, you are the one I think most like I would have been had my life been an easier one." He patted the smooth cheek. "Goodbye, child."

Duo moved quietly to stand on Heero's other side. "Time to go, Heero-love." His face was very serious for once, gentle and caring. He reached out his hand just as the hand which had been cupping Max's face pulled away and clutched at his chest, his other hand reaching out to Duo as he gasped against the sudden pain that seemed to be squeezing his heart. Duo grasped his hand, and Heero slumped forward lifelessly. Max was barely able to catch his discarded body before it fell, and looked up in awe.

Duo - Shinigami - shone from within as he stood there, hand in hand with a man that Max barely recognized. Heero looked no older than thirty to the eyes of his stunned great-grandson, a man in the prime of life, with the erect carriage that had always been his trademark before age had caught up with him. Prussian-blue eyes, so much like Max's, looked down at him. "Take care, Max. Tell the family I love them, and I'll see them all on the Outside." He turned to Duo, a rare smile lighting his face. "We going somewhere or not?"

Duo laughed. "And you call me impatient. Come on, self-destruct boy, we've got a long trip ahead of us." They turned and walked away, through the wall and into the unknowable, trading insults like the old friends they were and still holding hands.

The little girl opened her eyes, much to her father's relief. He brushed her hair back, smiling down on her tenderly. "Hey, sweetie. How're you feeling?"

"Tired." She smiled slightly. "I had a funny dream. I was laying there in the surgery room and I was watching the doctors operate on me. And then this tunnel opened up and it had this light in it so I went into the tunnel. There were these two men in this place that was really bright, and one of them said that I was supposed to come back here and tell you that Duo and Heero said hi. Do you know a Duo or a Heero?"

Maxwell Yuy blinked, then smiled. "I used to, honey. Let me tell you a story, one that your grandfather used to tell to me, and his father told to him. It's about a young man named Duo Maxwell, who used to call himself Shinigami... "

The End

(:./rt/shinigami)