"Our Father" by Aki

I don't know much about the "training" that he went through. And after I saw him set his broken leg on the deck, I don't think I want to know. He's one quiet bastard in general; never says much about anything. Especially not himself. So his past, to me, is just one big blank. Sometimes I wonder if it's not like that for him, too. One thing's for sure though: it can't have been pretty. I'm guessing--no, I'm positive that it would have killed most people. But not Heero Yuy. Heero Yuy is some pretty tough shit and his training only made him tougher. In fact, it took every drop of the weakness and foibles that make us human and squeezed it right out of him. And the result stands before me--or sits ignoring me, rather--Heero-the-perfect-soldier-Yuy.

God, but I hate those ugly old geezers sometimes. And as much as I thank them for giving me a chance, for giving me my aibou, I hope I get to have something to do with sending them to hell. There are so many sins on my soul that I bet it sinks there straight as a stone, the second I get free. And what could be more fitting than for us to all go together? Creators and creations both. Just one big ugly soulless family.

Family...I wish I had one I could claim. But I feel lucky anyway. As unworthy as I am, at least there was someone there for me.

"Our Father who art in Heaven..."

The fingers stop their rapid clicking on the keyboard. "What did you say?"

"Nothing."

Father Maxwell...Sister Helen. They took me in, a brat off the streets, and a thieving brat at that. Said they wanted me when no one else did. Gave me everything about myself that makes it possible to live and fight. So, of course, Death took them away. I can't fight the unfairness of that. The only thing that confuses me is how they still believed, right up to the end. Sister Helen did, I could see it in her eyes. And she worried about me, when she was dying. She cared. They both did. And it got them killed.

Ah, I'm doing myself no good, going over these thoughts. They're old already and settle into a groove, running smoothly from one to another. But they don't ever go anywhere, and they make me feel, sometimes, like I want to scream. Scream and cry, or maybe even pray. But boys don't cry and praying to a God that isn't there or doesn't care is just a waste of time as far as I'm concerned. I've said it before and I'll say it again: There's only one God, Death. And that's me, Shinigami. I can feel my lips curve up in a grin.

"Hallowed be thy name..."

There's a stumble in the fingers, but he doesn't stop to ask this time.

One advantage comes of rooming with Heero Yuy. You can stare at him for ages and he wouldn't turn a hair. Hell, I bet you could spit on him without getting back so much as a blink. I could stand here and dance a tango, and he'd just go on typing, absorbing information through those fiercely vacant eyes. Of course, if I made too much noise, he'd tell me to shut up.

Aitsu...He's got shields up thicker than a cargo cruiser's--the only person I've

seen who could get a rise out of him was that ojousan. Figures that I'd go for the tough ones. And I've even got competition! I must love putting myself in misery. Ah, well, can't deny he's good-looking, in a psychotic kind of way. And so goddamned perfect! I'm good at what I do; I know that. But if I had to make an objective decision, I'd almost have to say that he's the best. Not just better than me, but better than all of us. Not that I'm jealous. It's a small price to pay for having had some semblance of a childhood.

I think that's what it is, mostly. Sure, I make fun of him. Who could resist? But in a weird kinda way, I respect him too. And I'd die before I let him know it, but half the time he scares the shit outta me. I'm just glad we're on the same side...sort of. Because whatever he wants to get done, gets done, and all you can do is hope is that you're not in the way.

"Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done..."

I have to stifle a chuckle at that particular blasphemy.

There's more, though. He's a better soldier than me...fine. And a worse person, maybe, whatever the hell that means. Somehow, though, he's really exactly the same. We both have to operate with tunnel vision.

Focus on one thing, make it the only thing you can see. Fight for it so hard that you can feel your fingers close on it, slick with the blood of the hundreds you've killed. And tell yourself that it's worth it.

No wonder he tries so hard to die. Man, the shit we go through would drive anyone to it, and the worst of it comes from the inside, where you can't get at it and blow it to smithereens. It's the same thing there, too, holding both of us back. We can't die yet. We've got a job to do.

I know that this world isn't the prettiest. If it were, we wouldn't be the way we are. That's life, isn't it...War and filth and corruption and evil. And someone's got to fight it, right? Sure, maybe it's a mess. But it's our colonies. Our Space. It's our mess. And if I have to, I'll be Death and kill to cleanse, in space or on Earth.

"On Earth as it is in Heaven..."

So maybe I'll have a thousand sins on my soul. But I'm not going to Hell with any regrets, and neither is he. What was it he said? Always follow your feelings. Personally I'm not so sure that he's got any left. If he does, he's doing a damn good job of hiding them. Still, there's no way I'm going to cast the first freaking stone. I like my glass house just fine, thanks.

When I think about it, there are even times when I like my life. Oh, I don't hate every minute of it. That'd be a waste of energy. You gotta save your hate for when it'll come in handy, like say having to clear a field of fifty mobile suits in five minutes. But there are so few moments when I can still feel it, that...love. The kind Father Maxwell talked about, a love for all things, especially peace and good fellowship. Sometimes it comes when I look at the stars. When I'm out in space and I feel that everything is so much bigger than I know, so big that all the misery humanity's ever felt gets swallowed up and lost in it, leaving behind just those twinkling points of light. Then, somehow I breathe deeper, and nothing hurts.

Of course, I'm a Gundam pilot, not a poet. 99.9% of the time it's war and politics and strategy and death, always death, on my mind. But the other .1% makes it worth it. I live for those moments; I live _on_ those moments. I don't know what Mr. Perfect Soldier lives on. If I asked him, he'd probably say, Food. That's one thing. He does eat, I've seen him.

"Give us this day,
Our daily bread..."

It surprises me no end that I can, too. That I can sit down to eat. That I can lie down to sleep. That I can kill and kill and kill and shrug it all off somehow. It must be how sinners like me are born. Three days ago we were out on a mission, just a routine destruction of a supply route. It went like clockwork--they didn't see a thing coming, and we reduced the ranks to about a dozen suits in no time. Then a fucking OZ soldier panicked and broke, firing shots wildly and running straight for the station. Heero caught him in seven seconds flat, even dragged him back before blowing him to pieces, but it was too late for a few of the people on the perimeter. I saw it then--just a curled up form in the settling dust, and something in me snapped. The rest of the suits went down in record time, and then I broke the sacred rule of being a Gundam pilot. Several sacred rules, in fact. It surprised me that Heero didn't chew me out afterwards. Anyway, he couldn't have stopped me. I was out of Shinigami and down on the ground before I even knew it, and that limp little body was in my arms.

If I close my eyes I can still see his face, frightened and dirty.

I'm scared, he said. I don't want to die.

I had to swallow hard before I could tell him, You're not going to die.

But it hurts so much...and things are going away...

That's not dying...you're just falling asleep for a while. When you wake up, you'll be--with your Father.

Oh...then...I guess...I'm not so scared...

The eyes closed, and my mouth opened, but nothing came out. I could still feel that sticky warmth soaking into my clothes. Finally I felt a shadow and I looked up to find Heero standing over me. But he wasn't angry, wasn't frowning. And his eyes...I could see something in them for once, something far back. It was the same thing I knew was in my own. Somewhere, then, he'd known it too, this numbness. I guess you just can't escape it, in this hellish war. He's dead, I told him. I knew he was dying the second I saw him.

Then why did I lie to him? I don't know. I guess it didn't matter much. I know what I say: I run, I hide, but I never lie. I hate faith that tricks you into thinking there's something better than there is. That way, you never face reality. But that kid--he was just a little kid. You can't tell them that you're Death and that's all there is to it. So I lied, just once. Another sin. With so many, how much can one more hurt?

"And forgive us our daily trespasses..."

Why were they so shocked when I told them I didn't believe in God? How could they believe in God, when such terrible things happened? God couldn't keep them from dying, couldn't keep that boy from dying, couldn't keep this thrice-damned war from going on. They spent their lives believing in God, praying to Him and praising His Name. And look where it got them! The Federation Army blew them away!

Oi, oi. Didn't I just tell myself not to think in circles? But it's hard to keep it all down, deep enough so I can't feel the heat gathering behind my eyes. Shit...there it goes.

I hate them. I hate OZ, I hate the Federation. Whoever makes war, kills the good people and leaves people like me behind. Father Maxwell didn't hate anyone. I don't know how he did it. And I don't think it matters. Maybe when there's finally peace, when I don't have to be Death, I can be like him, and forgive. But I doubt it. There's no redemption for sinners like me, so what's the sense in forgiving anyone? But I think about it, sometimes, because that's what he would have wanted me to do. I still think he was stupid to believe in God, but he gave me everything I care about. And when someone does that for you, you just have to listen to him. A little.

"As we forgive those who trespass against us..."

Bang! goes the chair. I jump and look at Heero, who knocked it down when he stood up. "Hey! What's the deal?"

"Omae..." he's frowning, and on closer inspection, breathing kinda fast.

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, man, I'm standing here waiting for you to finish up and give me the mission stats."

"You're--" he frowns again and my jaw drops. Such an emotional display from the Perfect Soldier surprises me so much that I forget that when he narrows his eyes like that, bad stuff usually happens. "You're talking," he finally mutters.

"Not exactly." I don't feel like explaining just why I know this little scrap of verse so well. He looks at me, confused. "Anyhow, I should shut up for a while, right?" I stretch my arms out behind my head, unclenching my fists as I do so. "Yare yare."

I go silent and he goes back to typing. Then, after maybe a minute, out of the blue, he stops again. "What were you saying?" He says it low, looking straight into the screen. It's weird, but I get the impression that he actually wants to know. And what's even more weird is that I don't really mind telling him. Never mind that it's everything that I don't believe, that I mock. Saying it does things. It makes me think about things and people. And maybe that hurts, but I don't want to forget them either. If there's one thing that might be worse than the pain, it'd be not caring. I've seen enough people who give up and die, or give up and lose themselves in some dream.

Sometimes, I admit, it's tempting. Why the fuck should I care? I want to be a normal kid too. I want to lead a normal life and let the war spin itself out however it pleases. I've had a shitty time, and the only people I ever owed anything to died.

There's nothing stopping me from just blowing Deathscythe to pieces, and calling it quits.

"And lead us not into temptation..."

I hear myself say, and he's listening, I know.

But I can't just give up. I want things to be better, not just for me. This doesn't have to go on, the ugliness, the war. There's got to be a future in it somewhere, a future that I have to help make. A time that's brighter. Bright enough to know better than to kill innocents.

Some people think I'm wrong. Maybe they're right, and fighting only engenders more fighting. But sitting around on your ass never brought any peace, either. I'm only doing what I think is right. It's the only thing I can do.

"But deliver us from evil..."

A glance shows me that he's closed his eyes. I close mine too.

Someday, I tell myself, it will be over. We won't have to kill, won't have to sin to save others. That's why people need faith, I guess. There's got to be something to keep you going, to give you hope. Because people are weak, and they die all the time, whether they should or not. But people have strength too. Strength like Father Maxwell, who preached peace until the very end. Strength like Sister Helen, who asked God to bless me--me!--as she died. That strength has to come from somewhere. Maybe we just have to know that there is more than what we see of our grimy little existences.

I guess...it can't always hurt to think that there could be a Father, no matter how distant He seems.

"For the Kingdom, the power and the glory are yours now and forever."

The room is now profoundly still; even that damned laptop has stopped beeping. As I say the last line, it comes unexpectedly. I bow my head almost unwittingly, wondering if perhaps there could be redemption after all. Even for me. And amidst that gift of a moment's peace, I smile without bitterness as I say the last word.

"Amen."

Hooookay, that was a LONG ficlet. Gomene. And no yaoi either. And no plot. But hey, don't say I didn't warn ya! ^_^

I did throw in a hint of erm, "admiration" for Heero in the beginning (what can I say, I'm a rabid 1x2 fan) but it didn't seem to fit the rest of the story. Believe it or not, this was originally going to be a lemon. -_- The Lord's Prayer just snuck in there somehow. I'm not responsible for the coherence of anything I write after two a.m. v^_^v

PS: "Aibou" is how Duo frequently refers to Deathscythe in the series. It means something along the lines of "partner" or "mate."

(:./aki/father)