26-Jun-2002
Title: Go Gently
Author: Ravynfyre ravynfyre@hotmail.com
Category: implied death, angst
Pairings: 1+2+5
Standard Disclaimer: All parts of Gundam Wing are Not Mine. It’s all Theirs. *sigh* Too bad, but otherwise, I guess I’d never get anything done *happy hentai thought*. Anyway, not makin’ any money offa this so dun sue me. You’d only get some college debt, a few dogs, and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers anyway. Ya know… blood. Turnip. Do the math.
Rating: pg-13 for language
Warning: implied death found herein
Spoiler: None.
Notes: Dedicated to Chance, just a dumb alley cat to some, beloved member of the household 'pack' to me. I wish tomorrow would never come, but that's not up to me. I love you. I'll miss you.
I didn't try hard enough. That's the thought that keeps running over and over through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I didn't try hard enough, I didn't pay enough attention to the warning signs. I didn't love him enough.
Now it's too late.
His hand in my own… it feels so cold and limp. It's so pale. I should be able to feel his pulse if I press a little just *so*, just *here*… and nothing. An occasional flutter as his heart struggles to keep up with the demands his body has placed upon it, and failing to do so a little bit more with each beat.
Shit like this isn't supposed to happen, ya know? Look how we beat the odds. Two wars, a few thousand misguided souls all striving for our lives, a million moments of fate all arrayed against us, and despite it all, we made it through. Together we beat the odds and found happiness together.
Fuck. I know all things must die, but it's too soon! Damnit, it's not fair! He made it this far. Why couldn't he make it a little farther?
If ever I did believe in God, I'd hate him now. Fuck them all. They always take the things I love the most. I should have known that he wouldn't be safe either.
Those eyes blink up at me. Too pale. There should be more color in those eyes, more life, more will, but it's all gone now. Or at least almost gone. He's trying, for me, I think, to look brave and accepting. I can see behind the façade, though. I had a lot of practice looking beyond the surface at what really lay beneath for far too long to not catch the living lie now.
He's tired. No. Tired doesn't quite convey the sadness of it. Tired isn't quite deep enough. Weary would be closer, but it's still not right. He's not even angry anymore. Not like me.
Weary. Why can't he at least be a little bit more pissed off about all this? His calm makes me feel guilty. After all, I'm not the one dying here.
Fuck him. He smiles at me and closes his eyes, fingers in mine tightening just a tiny bit; it's all the strength he has. He's leaving it my hands. Fuck him.
I touched Death every day of my life up until I met him, and many days after that as well. Why is this so different? Why does this hurt so much more? Even when I lost Solo, even when I lost the church and the Father and the Sister, it didn't hurt this badly. Why? Was I too young to understand the real ramifications? That's bullshit. Death is death is death.
Behind me, Heero's hands tighten upon my shoulders, comforting, soothing, alive. I'll lose him someday, too. With my luck, it'll be sooner rather than later, just like Wufei.
I can't do this right now. Swallowing my pride, I stumble to my feet and turn away, pushing Heero's hand from my shoulder as I stagger to the door. I can't even turn to offer him an apologetic look; he'd just give me that understanding little smile, such as it is, if I do. It's not even a smile anymore, just the faintest twitch of his lips, since he doesn't have the strength to do more than that. I don't want him to understand! I don't want him to be sympathetic! I want him to rise up out of that hospital bed and threaten to kick my ass again if I don't just fucking shape up and quit feeling sorry for myself! I want him to snarl and call me a baka! Fuck, I'd even settle for real hate for being the coward that I am, as long as it was something more than that… that…
Shadow.
He's like a specter of himself, there, but not. I don't know why he stays. I don't know why he ever stayed. Probably out of some perverse need to aggravate me as much as I obviously aggravated him. He knew this would happen, and is getting sadistic enjoyment out of making me decide his fate.
I sigh and run a hand through my bangs, shaking my head. That's not fair. Even if he were capable of having those thoughts, he's too honorable to ever make good on them. I know he's just trying to make his peace, trying to help me make mine.
Fuck peace. Who was it who said "do not go gently into the night," anyway? Who cares. I'm not going without a fight. I'm not going like that. I can't. Neither can Heero. I won't let him. I shouldn't have let it get this far with Wufei, either. This is no way for a warrior to go. Not pale and sick, half his weight, lying in the same place for days at a time because he's too weak to do anything else. I should have…
Fuck. I don't even know what I should have done anymore, except that I should have noticed this coming long before it became too late to do anything about it. Right? Couldn't I have stopped this somehow? That's what we fought for, after all, to save lives. Why can't I save his? FUCK!
My fist hurts. Heero's looking at me oddly now, concern in his blue gaze, though Wufei's expression never changed. Still that same almost smile of understanding, sadness, weariness, and acceptance. Oh. I punched the wall. I shake my head as I contemplate the blood pooling at the surface of my skin across the knuckles. He's so pale. Some stupid, heartless corner of my brain wonders, looking at his sallow hands, if it had been his fist crashing into that wall, what color his knuckles would ooze.
"I love you, you know,” I murmur softly, trusting the silence of this room to carry my quiet voice to him.
"Aa.”
It's barely a whisper. More a thought than an actual sound.
"I won't do it, you know,” I continue, matter of fact, though the lie sounds harsh against my ears. Even I know it's not the truth. I just can't afford to say anything else. It would cost me too much.
"Hn.”
"Bastard.”
I turn to face him again, pausing at the threshold to his room even as that last curse leaves my lips. The smile is there, always the same, though perhaps it is tinged with a hint more of sardonic amusement than it was a few moments ago. He doesn't answer me. He doesn't need to.
He knows he's already won.
Gathering up the tatters of my soul about me, I swallow past the lump in my throat and manage to dredge up a sad grin from somewhere. I have to do it. For him. I have to let him go.
"Good night, Wufei," I paraphrase a quote from one of our favorite movies. In my rush to reassure him, I know I flub the next line, but I don't even care, because I know he'll understand. "Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning."
Once dark eyes flutter open and fix upon my face, thin, ashen lips mouthing, "As you wish." Real relief in that gaze. Real sorrow as well, but more relief, and a love so deep, it threatens to suck me in and drown me in it. I turn away before it can, before those eyes can slide gratefully shut again, too weary even to remain open a moment longer. I don't want to see that. I'm not strong enough.
Tomorrow will come soon enough. I'll be strong enough tomorrow. Strong enough to finally say good-bye. Though, as I escape out the door, I can feel my heart already doing it for me.
Sayonara, koibito.
~owari~
-owari-
final notes: my aplogies to everyone. I just needed to get this out of my system. the quote, by the way, is butchered from The Princess Bride. No attempt being made here to steal their thunder. Just drown my sorrow.
RavynFyre
Please send comments to: ravynfyre@hotmail.com