07-Dec-2000
Disclaimer: I don't own it... For the last (yeah, right..) time...
You know, the synth in 'Take Off to the Sky' sounds like the synth on 'Forces' (from Berserk) except really toned down. Am I the only one who thinks that? Probably... Er... rant... rant... *coughs* Can't rant now.
I wrote the first flashback scene about a year ago. Just picked it up again, an wrote the entire rest of the first part under the influence of Gackt. (If any of you know of the band Malice Maizer, Gackt was their vocalist, then left to pursue his solo career. I love his stuff ^^)
Pairings: 1+2
Warnings: slight au, extreme confusion, shounen ai
Spoilers: none
Flashbacks/Dreams are indented. Thoughts are in these '' and spoken words are, of course, in ""
I'm trying to sure my obsession with parts... It comes from when I wrote a really long (130 or so pages) fic and tried to use my stupid Hotmail account to send it... Took me a LONG time to separate it into parts and everything, so I started dividing everything into parts. Must... Stop...
He screamed, a loud battle cry, and rove his sword into whatever was blocking him. It gave way, not easily at first, but it was like his sword was going through butter immediately after wards. He heard the person - yes, it was a person - scream as he skewered them. 'Ha!' he shouted triumphantly in his mind. 'Take that, yaro...'
He didn't think about his mistake until it was too late. He heard the person - yes, he'd just driven his sword into a person! - scream again, but not in pain, and then he felt- Agony! 'Make it stop!' Oh, God... He knew what had happened. He was dying, soon to be killed by the very person who he killed.
'I'm sorry, Duo...' he thought, remembering briefly flashing blue eyes and a long braid. 'I promised I'd come back...'
He heard the person on his sword gasp, even as he was giving up all hold on life.
"He - Heero!" That voice! 'NO!' But... Yes... It took all effort to move his head up, past his own sword and blood... So much blood. Past the collar - NO! To the face.
'No no no no nonononono....' He shook the haze from his eyes, tried to gasp in a breath. It was! 'Kami-sama... Anata ga KIRAI!' It was him...
"Duo..."
"Heero! Heero, oh god... Gomen kudasai! Please..."
"Iya... I-" 'Can't breathe...' "I - Struck first. Duo-" He coughed, trying the breathe in. It rattled strangely. Slowly something occurred to him. Was he going to die, never having told Duo he loved him? Instantly he regretted never having said it. But he didn't have much time now... He gathered his nerve. "Duo - Duo, I love you." 'Can't breathe - Can't think - Why did this happen? WHY?' The haze was coming back. He heard the other suck in a gasp, and he spoke in return, even in this state, he could hear the joy in Duo's voice.
"I love you, Heero..." 'I hate you, God... WHY?'
"I guess this is how it ends, ne, Heero?" His breath whistled slightly. He tried to move his arms. If he was going to die, he wanted to be holding him. He focused what strength he had left. 'It hurts...' He tried again. Tried again. Succeeded, but couldn't move his arms past Duo's shoulders.
"Guess I had better aim than you this time, ne, Heero?" Either way, Duo's voice sounded strained, too. But he pulled Heero to him. Heero gasped as the sword was pushed further into him.
'I never thought it would be like this. Never like this.' He felt Duo's hands on his face, in his hair. He relaxed to the caress like so many times before.
"Say -" He coughed again, tried to breathe. This time he couldn't. The last thing he was aware of was a drop of something on his face, and Duo's lips on his own.
'What the hell was that?' Heero Yuy stared at the ceiling while sweat dried and his breathing calmed. His hand still rested on his stomach, where it had gone by reflex to check for the dream's gaping hole. Nothing there, no blood, no sword, nothing but the sweat drying quickly under the fan directly above his body on the ceiling. He watched the blades whir, focusing on the fins' movement. He closed his eyes, but couldn't go back to sleep. His heart was still beating too quickly. As his eyes opened again, the face of the boy from his dream flashed briefly on the spinning blades. 'Stop!' he yelled at his mind, but to no avail. The boy smiled, waved. Heero found himself smiling back, rarely used muscles twitching.
"Yamero!" he yelled, both at his mind and the boy. In response, the boy's mouth moved... He couldn't hear him, but he somehow knew what he was saying. He glared, and the boy started laughing, his lips moved again. 'Trying the glare again, eh, Heero? You know that stopped working a long time ago!' Heero shut his eyes, blocking out the boy. 'I need to get more sleep.' He blocked his dream from his mind and tried to go back to sleep.
It didn't work.
Duo Maxwell was tired. More tired than he'd ever been in his life, most likely. Oh, and he knew why. He couldn't shut his eyes without seeing burning Prussian blue gazing at him, couldn't sleep without that same dream that woke him sweating and near tears every time, couldn't sit still for long without his thoughts drifting to a serious face framed by shaggy brown hair. He frowned slightly as he realized it would be damn hard to pilot if he couldn't get his thoughts off some boy from a fucking dream. Get over it, Maxwell!
Besides, he was supposed to meet the other pilots tomorrow. [1] If there was one thing being the easy going, gregarious Duo Maxwell had taught him, it was that first impressions always made an impact, no matter what you did later. He'd prefer his first impressions to at least be of someone who wasn't constantly drooling on himself because he kept falling asleep at the most inopportune times.
He shut his eyes and was immediately confronted with a pair of flashing blue eyes too vivid to be real. Gasping awake, he wrenched his thoughts away from the owner of those eyes, one he didn't knew, but who seemed so familiar. Sighing, he surrendered himself to another sleepless night spent contemplating nothing.
(Next Day)
Four pilots sat in a darkened room, the far east corner of a decrepit, condemned heap that had once been a sprawling mansion, observing each other in dusk.
"Who are we still missing?" inquired one, sitting too straight to be comfortable in a chair too new for the house.
"Zero." The one that answered sat inhumanly still, a position you might think was relaxing until you noticed how tense he was.
"We should give him some time." The speaker was sitting comfortably but elegantly, with a regal bearing of one used to being obeyed.
"Naw, I'm sure he's abandoned us to go off on his own and single-handedly destroy Oz!" inserted the fourth, sprawled easily in his chair. One of his companions giggled slightly, the other two barely reacted.
"Oh! There's someone coming!" All four clustered quickly around a single viewscreen that shifted four camera angles at once.
"That's him," confirmed one as the figure briefly saluted one of the cameras, knowing he was being watched as he strode through the ancient catacombs of the dilapidated house.
"I can't see his face!" the fourth complained, before sitting back in his seat aay from the other three. He fidgeted for a few seconds before leaping up, startling the other three.
"I'm going to go get him!" he exclaimed, running out of the room before any of the others could protest.
"But that's -" managed one weakly before he accepted that the boy couldn't - or wouldn't - hear him, and turned back with a sigh.
Duo Maxwell ran through abandoned corridors, glad for a chance to stretch his legs as he searched for the late pilot of Wing Gundam Zero.
"Oiiiiii!" he yelled, listening more for his own echoes than any response. He grinned up at the blue sky shining through a hole in the ceiling, so preoccupied that he didn't notice he was being joined until he had already been spotted. The slow, steady tattoo of the last pilot's even stride was his only, tardy, warning.
"A little late, aren't you?" he drawled easily, before turning to the other boy. He stopped, mouth still open, the echoes of his uniform timbre the only dying sound as the two stared in surprise.
"Kimi..." he whispered, falling without realizing it into a familiar inflections and dialect that he didn't recognize but knew all the same, called up by the face of one known but forgotten and now evoked again.
And he fell, into a pair of vibrant blue eyes that were so recognized, but held a new nuance of mortality that was a contradiction to everything he recalled...
To be continued!!!!
Don't like it that much except for the first scene >.< It's a very short part, I know, but I... I dunno, I was done. ^^;;; Also, I have NO idea where to go!! Tasukette!!! Akuma? Hiroshi? *sniffle*
Notes:
[1] As I said, this was a slight alterniverse. This is one of my alterations. ^^
Ryan Harbin
Please send comments to: rioroute_vilgyna@yahoo.com