01-Mar-2001
This ficlet picks up after "Stalking A Killer," though I think it stands alone - I don't think you have to have read "Stalking" to be able to understand this; however, there's mention of some of the events in "Stalking," so if you haven't read it you might want to know that there are spoilers. Sort of. :)
//Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forest of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?//
They say that to have a tiger by the tail is to be caught in a situation of one's own making, in which one dares not stop. There's an implication of foolishness there - for what fool, upon seeing a tiger, seizes it by its tail? There is also something of a desperate tenacity - for what fool, having grabbed a tiger by the tail, is then foolish enough to let go?
It can be said that my entire life has been spent hanging onto the tiger's tail, grim and fearful, knowing that one slip will allow the beast the opportunity to turn and devour me.
//In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?//
He doesn't seem to realize that he's changed, but it's true. Or maybe he doesn't *want* to realize; it's hard to tell. The changes were small at first, easily overlooked - a silent moment here, a shuttered gaze there - but lately... lately, even he has to admit things are different.
Lately, even *I* have to admit things are different.
It was wonderful, at first. He was so powerful, so compelling even in his weakness, so sure of himself. I was the one who balked, who hesitated, who wanted to wait. I know, that's unlike me. Growing up the way I did, it's in my nature to grab onto anything good with both hands, and get all of it I can. I guess it could be taken as greed when I eat all the doughnuts or use all the hot water, but it's more that I'm enjoying every last drop I can, while I can, because I know that it can be taken from me at any moment. It's happened before.
I knew it would happen again.
Those first few weeks were amazing. He seemed to have no doubts at all, and he gradually coaxed me out of mine. Just the thought of the way his eyes darkened before a kiss, the way his hands felt in my hair, on my skin...
I tasted joy in those weeks, and I grabbed it with both hands. How was I to know I'd caught a tiger by the tail?
//And What shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?//
He turns from me in his sleep, these days, instead of pulling me close, burying his face in my hair the way he used to. It's an unconscious rejection, but that doesn't make it hurt less. Several times a night he gets up, checks the doors and windows to be sure they're locked, then checks them again. He doesn't seem to know I've noticed, and I don't mention it.
Sometimes when I touch him, he shudders, almost as if the feeling is obscene to him. Sometimes when he dreams, he wakes with a cry like a lost child, fearful and alone. I don't mention it.
He's guarded, too, in the way he speaks to me. He gives nothing away of what he thinks, and if I were to ask him about it, he would run me up against the brick wall of his silence. Silence, and the tapping of those goddamned computer keys. I checked once, to see what he was doing. He's been searching through psychological databases. Soldier, heal thyself.
I don't mention that, either.
If I had an ounce of brains in my head, I'd back off, leave him alone, give him space.
But I've got a tiger by the tail, and I can't let go.
//What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?//
I'm going to have to do it. I'm going to have to confront him. He doesn't say he loves me anymore; when I say it to him, the only reply I get is a hunted look. I knew it would happen this way, knew he'd equate me with *him,* knew that what we shared would be corrupted by the memory of what was done to him. Even the Perfect Soldier can't choose what to feel and what not to feel.
My whole life has circled around him, ever since we met. I keep coming back to him, like worrying a loose tooth, even knowing it will hurt. Like a moth compelled to chase the flame, even knowing it will crash and burn. Like that girl, Relena, chasing after him and begging for even a crumb of affection... though I have more respect for her right now than for myself. She at least has a life outside of her obsession.
Everything I've done, and been, has been based on him, on giving him what he needed, whether it was repairs for his Gundam or a shoulder to lean on or a warm body in bed... and this time I can't give him what he needs. This time I'm the one who needs. I can't go on like this.
I'm going to have to confront him. It will bring about the end of this, whatever it is we share between us... but a quick death is better than a lingering agony. I run, and I hide, but I can't live a lie.
//When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?//
"Heero," I say, quietly, and then clear my throat and repeat myself, loudly enough to be heard over the frantic clatter of his keyboard. He jumps, then turns and looks at me, and my heart sinks at the look in his eyes - his usual frosty glare, but with an underlying layer of fear. Fear. God help me.
"I'm busy," he says, and turns back to his typing. His voice and actions are so normal, I could almost believe the moment hadn't happened... if my heart weren't still twisting in agony, pierced through by that one glimpse. I cross the room to him, grab his chair and swivel him around to face me, and he gasps, his fists bunched at his sides as though he's resisting the urge to defend himself. He probably is.
Somehow I manage to steel myself, even though my heart is fluttering like mad and my knees are shaking. I press on, in spite of the small voice inside that tells me it would be smarter to back off, give him time.
"We have to talk."
//Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?//
I've got a tiger by the tail. And I dare not let go.
~owari
Disclaimers: The poem used in this story is The Tiger by William Blake. The characters used in this story come from the anime series Gundam Wing. This fanfic is not in any way intended to be taken as a claim to copyright of either the poem or the characters and situations which were not created by me, nor is it intended as any form of disrespect to the creators and rightful owners.
Yoiko
Please send comments to: mightyyoiko@hotmail.com