Goodbye LJ...

[windandwater]

This is just to make it official for those who don't know, but I'm leaving LJ completely. For the rest of this week at least. Tomorrow is the Bar Exam and it runs for three days, so don't expect to see me about at all until Thursday night. Or even until the weekend since I plan on spending Thursday after the Bar drunk and crying. No online time for me at all. *whines* It will be hard, but I know I can do it.

So, because I'm a total h0r like that, I am declaring this to be a spam post. Go ahead. Run wild! Give me fics, give me links, give me pics, just babble to your heart's content and rape my inbox so I have something to see when I finally DO come back to the wonderful world of LJ. I don't even care if you write me a drabble and post it one word at a time. XD;

Though, I've tried to make a spam post before and it failed a bit miserably, so I don't have very high expectations this time around. Feel free to prove me wrong though!

♥

Comments

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Heero was dying, by the exact same degrees that killed Duo three months ago.

Trowa looked from the battered from of Heero, to the dread obvious on my face, and spoke aloud the conclusion I had feared to reach. "Duo's the one doing this, isn't he?" he guessed. "The power outage, and now Heero..."

I bit my lip, eyes glued to the bloodstains on the sheet. "I think it was actually the other way around... Heero, and the station was just a side effect."

"So what now?" Wufei demanded, his voice harsh. "Do we just sit around in the dark losing air until we all die, or do we finish Heero and save the rest of the station?"

"Wufei!" Trowa growled, angry warning clear in his voice; I wondered if they had argued about this before. "For the last time, shut up!"

"Oh, don't start with me, Barton!" Wufei surged to his feet, wincing as he jarred his shattered arm, but radiating fury like a caged panther. "I asked you four hours ago if you had any good ideas. You haven't come up with a workable one yet. If the only thing you can think to do is sit back and watch, then to Hell with you! In case you hadn't forgotten, we have responsibilities; to our men, who are suffocating and freezing to death out there in the dark while we dither; to the colonies, who've put everything they have on the line and are counting on US to back that line! Maybe you've abandoned those responsibilities to hold your lover's hand, but I have not!"

Trowa sat still and silent, eyes on the floor, but I could see a muscle leap in his jaw and knew he was an inch away from attacking Shenlong's pilot, injured arm or not. Tension crackled throughout the room, and I gathered together my shattered nerves and stepped into the middle of it.

"Enough," I said quietly, and narrowed my eyes to look at Wufei. "Be careful, Wufei. It was that sort of thinking that brought Heero to this." I gestured to the bed.

He flushed, and looked away. I turned to look at Trowa. "Still," I said, both to him and to the other pilot, "he's partly right. We can't just sit back and hope things will turn out right. If we wait too much longer, we won't need to pull the plug on Heero; he's dying just fine without our help. He's fighting with Duo in his mind, and sooner or later he's going to lose."

Trowa's fists unclenched, and he looked up at me. "Are you sure?" he questioned softly.

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

I nodded, the memories still fresh in my mind. "Somehow, I was pulled into Heero's mind. I saw them both there." My voice fell to a whisper as I recalled it. "Duo is going to destroy him. Utterly. And Heero's not stopping him."

"What should we do?" Trowa asked quietly, but he couldn't hide the desperation in his voice.

The beginnings of an idea were beginning to take shape; not much of an idea, I couldn't see it yet. I only knew what the end answer had to be. "We'll stop them." I looked between the confused anger still in Wufei's eyes and the desperation in Trowa's. "We have to."

"Do we really have to?" Startled, I turned around to face Wufei; his voice had lost its customary fire in those quiet words, and I could see the toll exhaustion was taking on him. He stared at the floor as he repeated his question, barely loud enough to be heard. "Do we really have the right to say that Maxwell is wrong in what he's trying to do? It would be... justice... to leave them to each other. This, this is a matter that extends to the bottom of a man's soul. What right have we, as outsiders, to interfere?"

I stared at him, shock stealing any response I might have made as I felt more than saw Trowa's silent agreement. These silent, intensely private men -- I should have guessed that they might think that way, and I could understand why. But they were wrong; I felt the certainty deep in my soul, and even if I couldn't find the words and the reasons now. Instead, I took a deep breath and steeled myself to bring up a matter I had hoped to leave until we were whole right now.

"We have to," I repeated, but with a reluctant note in my voice that attracted both the other men's attention, "because... well... I really didn't want to bring this up now, on top of everything else..."

"What?" Wufei demanded.

I cleared my throat and began the explanation. Once before, in Heero's quarters, I had been about to tell them, but events had intervened. Now there was nothing from the outside world to intrude on the bad news I brought. "A week ago, Milan discovered and disclosed to us that OZ had secretly designed and built Gundanium Mobile Suits of its own. As soon as we found out about this, Relena made up a weapons embargo act and shoved it through the Federation and all the neutral countries. But all that means is that they can't build any more -- we've still got to deal with the ones they've already assembled. That's the real reason I came topside at all -- to inform you of their new developments and discuss what to do about it."

Trowa and Wufei sat stunned, and I didn't blame them. The five Gundams were the Colonial Rebels' single great advantage over OZ -- none of the mobile suits that OZ could produce would stand up to the Gundams in single combat. They knew it, and we knew it, and to say the thought of OZ having Gundams of its own was worrying was as to say that the Sahara got a bit hot in summer.

"How many?" Trowa said woodenly.

I winced as I said, "Six confirmed. A Gundanium version of Tallgeese, Epyon, Fullcloth, Troubadour, Vayeate, and Mercurius."

"Six..." Trowa repeated, dazed. "Six Gundams..."

Wufei was the first to explode. "Why didn't you tell us this SOONER?" he roared, surging to his feet. "If there's a worse piece of news that could come at this time, I'd like to hear it! We should have spent the last three days trying to come up with some strategy to deal with the new threat, not dallying around with petty lover's quarrels! How could you --"

By this point, I'd had just about enough of Wufei's temper. "What do you take me for?" I shouted back, cutting over his furious tirade. His eyes went wide as I pushed myself into his face and went on. "I'm not nearly as stupid as you seem to think I am! Before I even set foot on the shuttle Zechs and I had worked out a strategy, and a workable one! Unfortunately, when I made the plan I was expecting to have five completely functional Gundam pilots to work with, and the first thing I find out when I arrive on the station is that we only have four. And, unless we do something SOON, we're only going to have three."

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

The moment fell into silence as I held Wufei's eyes, seeing by the stunned look in them that I'd managed to reach past his stubborn barriers of anger and guilt. When I spoke again, it was almost in a normal tone of conversation.

"Somehow, my Spaceheart is enabling me to reach Duo and Heero through whatever barriers he... they... put up against the world. I don't completely understand why or how, but twice now I have been able to enter Heero's mind and communicate with him. That's the only way I can think of to reach him and Duo, to bring him out of this... coma."

"And you honestly expect to be able to talk Maxwell out of this course of revenge he's set himself on?" Wufei had apparently not overcome all his reservations. "What makes you think he'll listen to you?"

"I don't know," I admitted. It was true, I was pretty much planning to wing it, but my gut feeling told me that this was the right way... no, the only way... to do this thing.

"Quatre," Trowa said slowly. "The last time you came between Heero and Duo, you got burned. Literally. What happens if... Duo attacks you as well?"

"I don't know," I repeated, in a much smaller tone. Brutal honesty compelled me to speak my suspicions, however. "I... probably, it would hurt me too."

"Damn it, Quatre!" Trowa surged up from his seated position and grabbed my shoulders, his green eyes boring intently into my face. "You say we can't afford to lose another pilot, and then you try and do something as insanely dangerous as this? Quatre, we can't risk you!"

It was hard, to hear the desperation behind his voice and not automatically reach out to soothe it, but everything I'd just said was still true. "We can't, Trowa? Or you can't?" I demanded, pushing away his hands. "I have to do this, Trowa. I can't sit back and do nothing. We -- all of us, including Heero -- already committed too many sins of omission. I know the risks as well or better as either of you, but I can't wait idly by, like you and Wufei and Heero did for two weeks while Duo was tortured to death!"

My voice rose uncontrollably on those last words, and Trowa flinched back as though I'd struck him. Apparently, I still had anger of my own to deal with, and I found myself shaking as I tried to return my focus to the mission at hand.

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

"What..." Wufei began from behind me, and cleared his throat. "What do you want us to do?"

I closed my eyes and drew in a shaky breath, grateful that he had capitulated at last. Letting out the deep breath, I opened my eyes and forced a calmness to my voice that I didn't feel. "Move the other bed next to Heero's," I instructed. "I think... it would be better if I were touching him, when I try and make the connection."

"And after?" he asked quietly. "What are we to do then, if not sit idly by and wait?"

I winced slightly at the way he threw my own words back at me, but answered his question literally. "Keep Heero... keep his body alive for as long as possible," I said bluntly. "I don't know how long this will take, or what will happen if he dies while I'm connected to him."

"Quatre..." Trowa said, his voice full of agony. I looked back at him, tightening my features in grim resolution. I didn't want to hurt him further, but I couldn't let anything he said deter me. But he didn't try with words any further. Instead, he gripped my arms, then leaned in and kissed me hard. I responded, passionately, knowing that this might be the last time, and couldn't help but feel a little disappointment when he pulled back and looked into my eyes.

"I love you," he said quietly, and my heart nearly broke at the words. "I just want you to know that, in case anything happens."

I smiled back at him. "I know," I replied, aware that Wufei had turned away to give us some measure of privacy, not really caring. "I love you, too."

It was one of the hardest things I'd ever done, to turn away from that and walk over to the dying man's bedside. As I settled myself onto the bed next to Heero's, I couldn't stop the doubts and fears from running through my mind. Wufei was right -- what made me think that Duo would listen to me? I was walking into a battle I wasn't prepared for on a field I didn't understand -- would I be able to get out if something went wrong? I forced the thoughts aside, and took a deep breath before I reached over and took hold of Heero's limp hand. Almost immediately I felt a tingle travel up my arm, that seemed to settle into a buzzing in my head. I didn't fight it; I just opened my Spaceheart and closed my eyes on a vision of Trowa and Wufei settling down on either side of the beds to start their vigil.

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

"What..." Wufei began from behind me, and cleared his throat. "What do you want us to do?"

I closed my eyes and drew in a shaky breath, grateful that he had capitulated at last. Letting out the deep breath, I opened my eyes and forced a calmness to my voice that I didn't feel. "Move the other bed next to Heero's," I instructed. "I think... it would be better if I were touching him, when I try and make the connection."

"And after?" he asked quietly. "What are we to do then, if not sit idly by and wait?"

I winced slightly at the way he threw my own words back at me, but answered his question literally. "Keep Heero... keep his body alive for as long as possible," I said bluntly. "I don't know how long this will take, or what will happen if he dies while I'm connected to him."

"Quatre..." Trowa said, his voice full of agony. I looked back at him, tightening my features in grim resolution. I didn't want to hurt him further, but I couldn't let anything he said deter me. But he didn't try with words any further. Instead, he gripped my arms, then leaned in and kissed me hard. I responded, passionately, knowing that this might be the last time, and couldn't help but feel a little disappointment when he pulled back and looked into my eyes.

"I love you," he said quietly, and my heart nearly broke at the words. "I just want you to know that, in case anything happens."

I smiled back at him. "I know," I replied, aware that Wufei had turned away to give us some measure of privacy, not really caring. "I love you, too."

It was one of the hardest things I'd ever done, to turn away from that and walk over to the dying man's bedside. As I settled myself onto the bed next to Heero's, I couldn't stop the doubts and fears from running through my mind. Wufei was right -- what made me think that Duo would listen to me? I was walking into a battle I wasn't prepared for on a field I didn't understand -- would I be able to get out if something went wrong? I forced the thoughts aside, and took a deep breath before I reached over and took hold of Heero's limp hand. Almost immediately I felt a tingle travel up my arm, that seemed to settle into a buzzing in my head. I didn't fight it; I just opened my Spaceheart and closed my eyes on a vision of Trowa and Wufei settling down on either side of the beds to start their vigil.

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

I was falling, farther and deeper than I'd ever dreamed I could. A flurry of images swirled and fell around me, pictures glittering like snowflakes. They flickered and spun around me, each one flashing for a moment in my mind before dissolving into another.

The blackness of space, shot through with needle-sharp pinpricks of light. The sharp smell of gunpowder and hot taste of burning steel. Laughter mingled and overlapped strangely with the screech of metal on metal. Staccato bursts of visions; Gundams fighting, men with guns, the other pilots, Relena, a plane exploding.

The images settled down, their numbers thinning even as the visions that remained gained in depth. Duo and Heero, often together. Duo smiled at Heero as he raised one hand and reverently touched the side of Heero's face. Duo brought up his arm and fired his gun at Heero, against a backdrop of gray metal and gray sea. Heero in Wing Gundam's cockpit seat. Duo, bound to a chair, writhing under the attentions of two OZ medics. Heero gently, tenderly stroking Duo's braid down the length of his back. Heero snarled with fury as his fist slammed into Duo's face.

"I guess it was just my destiny to be killed by you."

This last image evoked some confusion in me; was that a memory, or a vision? Two men faced each other down on a blackened plain, flames glowing in the distance. Heero was safely armored in his pilot suit; Duo glared at him from a robe of shadows, brandishing the green-glowing scythe of his Mobile Suit. Even as I watched, Duo reached over his shoulder, taking hold of his braid, and sliced the scythe down. He threw it at Heero's feet; blood dripped from the severed ends of chestnut hair, blood pooled about the tattered braid like a headless snake. Every drop seemed to writhe and whisper jeering taunts: a trophy, a trophy, wasn't that what you wanted? Didn't you want a conquest, wasn't that all you wanted? A prize; go on, touch me again, go on, why don't you...

"Tell Duo -- tell him I --"

(What? Tell him what? What couldn't you say to him yourself, Heero?)

The scene faded, replaced by another. Much more familiar to me. A golden-haired boy perched like a delicate bird in the palm of a bright yellow Gundam, looking down at the brown-haired boy diligently attending to the red mobile suit beside him. Sunlight poured down around them. "I'm telling you, Trowa, Duo's insane if he thinks he can bring Heero out of his shell. He's a fool to love him."

Sharp slivers of guilt stabbed through me; that day was months in the past, before I'd seen the true depth of the bond between Heero and Duo. The fact that it appeared at all was worrisome; had Duo overheard the conversation on the same day, or were my own memories contaminating the flow of visions? Either way was a bitter prospect. I reached for my resolve, surrounding myself with the calm of the mission I had come to do, and as if in response to my change in attitude I felt my feet settle on firm ground. "Duo?" I called softly into the shadows on either side. "Where are you?"

After a long moment, my surroundings congealed; the ground was cracked and filthy concrete, the shadows were crumbling buildings that loomed overhead and blocked away the sky. I felt a deep sense of familiarity with the place; it was a colony neighborhood. None I knew, though... the dereliction, the filth and the stink had no place in my past.

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

I heard a noise behind me that couldn't be accounted for by the skittering of rats, and whirled around to face Duo again. The sight of him dashed my hopes that some of the visions I had seen had been false; the ragged, shortened ends of his hair were matted with blood, and the black robe of the Shinigami hid any other remembered injuries from my scrutiny. Enraged tension radiated from every line in his body, curling around him like wisps of smoke.

"Quatre," he grudgingly acknowledged, his voice hoarse. "What are you doing here? I already told you to leave once."

"I know," I replied with a calmness that surprised me. "I came back."

"Well, that much is obvious," Duo spat with bitter humor. "What the hell did you hope to accomplish? You got out; why couldn't you stay gone?"

I shrugged with deceptive casualness. "Sorry, Duo, but I couldn't abandon a friend that I still had hope to save."

He looked away, hunching slightly in a defensive posture. "You came back for Heero, huh? Well, you might as well drop the effort, Quatre, because in a couple minutes he's gonna join me in hell." His voice was filled with a savage glee at the thought, and he looked around the filthy slum with an air of ironic pride. "Pathetic, isn't it?" he smirked. "For a guy who's supposed to be in control of everything, he's doing a pretty pitiful job of controlling his own mind, much less --"

"I didn't mean Heero," I interrupted, drawing his startled glance back up to my face. "Or at least, not only Heero. I meant you, Duo."

"Me?" He stared at me incredulously. "You're trying to save -- me? That's a laugh," he snorted, falling back on cynicism for support.

"I'm not joking, Duo." I crept a hint of steel into my voice.

He shook his head and responded in a mocking tone. "If you mean you're trying to save me from a horrible mistake, I don't know what I'm doing, yadda yadda yadda, then you can save your breath. I know better than anyone on Earth just exactly what I'm doing, Quatre. I know perfectly well that there isn't any turning back; I just don't care."

"But you're wrong," I insisted. "There's always another choice; it's never too late to go back."

"Go back for what?" he asked bitterly. "I'm already fucking dead; that kind of severely limits my options."

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

I took a deep breath, and launched into my pitch. "Because, Duo, the world still needs you. The Colonies, Earth, the war still needs you, even if not everyone realizes it. But we do. I do. The Gundam pilots have become the symbol of hope and courage to the soldiers fighting the war, and no-one's courage was more visible than yours, Duo. You were a damn good pilot, and not only did you win every battle you set your heart to, but you always remembered why you were fighting. It was because of this. This is L2, isn't it?" I gestured around to the rotting hell of urban jungle surrounding us. "The place where you grew up. It might be ugly, but you are still the child of L2, and you can speak and fight for its soul as no well-meaning diplomat ever could. The Colonies need you, Duo -- to remind us what we're fighting for, and to remind us that we can win that fight without losing our souls."

By the time I ran to a stop, Duo was staring at me with the shocked incredulity you reserved for someone who had just grown a second head -- but at least that meant he was really listening to me. "Quatre," he finally managed, "have you been snorting Zero System again?"

"I'm serious, Duo!" I couldn't keep the edge of desperate exasperation out of my voice this time. "The war effort --"

"Screw the war effort!" Duo shouted, cutting across me. His fury echoed unnaturally, and I had the fleeting impression of black wings arching over his head. "And screw the Colonies, too. I'm finished with them. What more do they want of me? I've already died for them once! Why in hell would I want to go back and give them a second shot?"

Under the venom in his voice, I heard a note of real anguish, and the air around him seemed to curl with a faint tinge of regret. After a moment of vertigo, I realized it wasn't my imagination; the scene of L2's nightmare streets wavered like a mirage before vanishing into the bare black plain. The clouds overhead boiled angrily, underlit with the same eerie glow as before. The transformation did not please Duo; a snarl twisted his face and his hands gripped the scythe in his hands in a white-knuckled grasp. Slowly, he as he reasserted his control over the landscape, the featureless plain faded into a frighteningly familiar scene.

It was the base at New Edwards, the day that OZ tricked us into destroying the Fedaration pacifists. The wreckage of OZ mobile suits and the bodies of OZ pilots were strewn across the airfield, and the burning wreckage of the plane spewed choking smoke and dark orange flames across the battlefield. I shuddered in recognition of this terrible place of death, but I couldn't let the hellish image slow me down.

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

I took a deep breath, and launched into my pitch. "Because, Duo, the world still needs you. The Colonies, Earth, the war still needs you, even if not everyone realizes it. But we do. I do. The Gundam pilots have become the symbol of hope and courage to the soldiers fighting the war, and no-one's courage was more visible than yours, Duo. You were a damn good pilot, and not only did you win every battle you set your heart to, but you always remembered why you were fighting. It was because of this. This is L2, isn't it?" I gestured around to the rotting hell of urban jungle surrounding us. "The place where you grew up. It might be ugly, but you are still the child of L2, and you can speak and fight for its soul as no well-meaning diplomat ever could. The Colonies need you, Duo -- to remind us what we're fighting for, and to remind us that we can win that fight without losing our souls."

By the time I ran to a stop, Duo was staring at me with the shocked incredulity you reserved for someone who had just grown a second head -- but at least that meant he was really listening to me. "Quatre," he finally managed, "have you been snorting Zero System again?"

"I'm serious, Duo!" I couldn't keep the edge of desperate exasperation out of my voice this time. "The war effort --"

"Screw the war effort!" Duo shouted, cutting across me. His fury echoed unnaturally, and I had the fleeting impression of black wings arching over his head. "And screw the Colonies, too. I'm finished with them. What more do they want of me? I've already died for them once! Why in hell would I want to go back and give them a second shot?"

Under the venom in his voice, I heard a note of real anguish, and the air around him seemed to curl with a faint tinge of regret. After a moment of vertigo, I realized it wasn't my imagination; the scene of L2's nightmare streets wavered like a mirage before vanishing into the bare black plain. The clouds overhead boiled angrily, underlit with the same eerie glow as before. The transformation did not please Duo; a snarl twisted his face and his hands gripped the scythe in his hands in a white-knuckled grasp. Slowly, he as he reasserted his control over the landscape, the featureless plain faded into a frighteningly familiar scene.

It was the base at New Edwards, the day that OZ tricked us into destroying the Fedaration pacifists. The wreckage of OZ mobile suits and the bodies of OZ pilots were strewn across the airfield, and the burning wreckage of the plane spewed choking smoke and dark orange flames across the battlefield. I shuddered in recognition of this terrible place of death, but I couldn't let the hellish image slow me down.

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

"Duo," I snapped, putting all the cold command I could into my voice. Almost unwillingly, he turned his head again to glare at me. "Do you know what death is?"

He responded to the question with a harsh bark of incredulous laughter. "You're asking the Shinigami about death?" His voice rose to a shout, and he swept his arm wide to encompass the bloody field around us. "Look around you, Quatre! This is --"

"Death," I calmly answered my own question, as if he hadn't spoken at all, "means never being able to make a difference again."

He stared at me, his mouth hanging open, and the New Edwards base went out like a candleflame in a high wind. I had his full attention, at last, and moved quickly to capitalize on his moment of shock. A few steps took me right up to him; for the first time, I was actually able to close the distance and take hold of his arm. It was surprisingly solid and real, as I leaned into him and urgently said, "It doesn't matter how you got here, Duo -- you're here now, that's all that matters. You're still you, even if you don't a body of your own any more; you still have free will. You can still make your own choices. You can still make a difference to the world; you have a whole nother lifetime to live, if you choose to take it. You've got a second chance, Duo! How many other people can say that?" My voice dropped to an almost-whisper. "How can you throw away a second chance, just for the sake of revenge? It's not worth it, Duo! Why are you clinging to it so hard??"

He struggled with himself for a long moment; the strain was clearly evident to me on his face before he finally said, in a tiny voice, "It's all I have left, Quatre. I've lost everything else. All I have is revenge."

"What?" The startled cry was jerked from my lips, as Duo bent his head and closed his eyes.

"A long time ago," he whispered, "I gave up my honor, my pride, everything I had, just so that I could survive. And that was enough, until I lost that too -- I gave up my life for the sake of love. And then I realized I didn't even have that any more, even if I ever had. Honor, pride, virtue, even my life -- everything's gone. All I have now is revenge. If I lose that too, then I'll be nothing, Quatre -- and I'll die."

Slowly, I took a step backwards, trying to absorb his words -- words torn directly from his soul. Sometime, during our moment of contact, the scene had changed again. A thick layer of soot and rubble covered the floor of a bomb-shattered stone building -- a church, I realized, and some of the wreckage was still burning. Somehow, I found words again.

"Duo," I said, this time gently. When at last he opened his eyes again, I could see they were filled with tears. "You are not nothing. You never, ever, lost your honor. You have always been one of the bravest and best men I have ever had the fortune to know."

"God, Quatre," Duo hissed, his voice filled with anguish. "What do I have to do to make you hate me?"

"Nothing," I stated with absolute certainty. "I can't hate you, Duo; you mean too much to me. And to the others, too, even if they can't show it. And... and..." I wavered for a moment, then took the plunge. "And Heero."

I felt a torrent of violent emotion begin building in Duo at that name, and moved quickly to finish my statement. "Duo, I know that he hurt you badly, but I'm also dead certain that he did love you. And losing you hurt him more than anything you could do to him."

"I wish I could believe that," Duo said, almost sadly. "I... But he doesn't care, Quatre. After all this, he doesn't even care enough to hate me!"

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Tell him...

"You're wrong, Duo," I told him, quiet but firm. "When you said you lost love... you were wrong."

He closed his eyes, and shook his head; denying my assertion, denying the world. Desperately, I tried one last time. "Duo... let me talk to him?" I pleaded. "If nothing else, he was my friend too."

For a moment, I felt the batwings surround his figure once more; then he sighed, a long, shaky exhalation of breath. Off to one side, towards the back of the broken church, the flames melted aside like a curtain. Without another glance at Duo, I made my way towards the gap, and as I approached the fire and smoke parted to reveal the hunched-over form of Heero Yuy. He might have already been dead for all that he moved when I stopped in front of him, but still the shadows curled about him like a protective halo.

"Heero?" I called softly, not really expecting a response. Receiving none, I slowly knelt beside him and peered through the unnatural darkness into his face. His head rested on his knees, buried in his manacled arms; only his eyes were visible, unfocused and endlessly dark. "You have to listen to me, Heero. Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'if you love someone, set them free?' You need to end this."

A deep silence fell, punctuated by the hissing crackle of the fire and the sound of my own pounding heartbeat. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Duo had his back turned, every muscle in his body rigid, but I knew he was listening.

"I don't know how," sounded a cracked whisper from in front of me, and I jerked my attention back to Heero as he lifted his face from his arms and stared out into nothing. "I need to forgive... but I don't know how..."

"Forgive?" I repeated, leaning in to hear him better. "What do you need to forgive, Heero?"

"Too many things," he whispered. "Wufei... for succeeding where I failed. For taking the loyalty of my men, for being the leader I couldn't be. You... and Trowa... for having each other. For being so in love. Duo... for leaving me. He left me. He made me open my heart to him and then he left me. And... myself..." His voice caught, and broke, and he swallowed before getting out, "Myself, for doing that to him. I know... I don't deserve forgiveness, but I need it anyway. And I don't know how..." He trailed off into silence, and his eyes were blank.

I swallowed, and took a deep breath. "Heero," I said, "look at me."

Have you ever spoken, and felt the world shake around you in time with your words? It's not a pleasant feeling, let me tell you. Slowly, he obeyed, and I felt my pulse accelerate as though I were in the middle of a battle -- which, in one sense, I was. What I said now would decide, I somehow knew, one way or another, the fate of at least two souls. "You can't change the past," I told him, holding his eyes with mine; "you can't undo what you did, and you can't forgive yourself for it."

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

I felt the darkness begin to fall behind his eyes, and raised one hand to forestall it. "But," I continued, "I can forgive you, for the wrongs you've done to me. Just as long as that's what you want. Do you really want forgiveness, Heero? Are you really sorry for what you did?"

And then, for the first time in months, the mask of ice that surrounded Heero's soul broke. The protective, numbing darkness evaporated, and I could see him clearly at last. His face twisted in pain, and he drew in a deep, shuddering sob of a breath. He opened his mouth, but he had to try several times before he could speak. "Yes," he breathed, and the tone of that voice made me shudder with the anguish it contained. "Please..."

"Please what, Heero?" I said softly.

"I... I..." His hands clenched and unclenched, nails digging so tightly against his arms that they left tracks of blood in their wake. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt him, I didn't want to..." Tears formed in his eyes, spilling over to track down his agony-twisted face.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Duo shudder; the broken church began to bleed around the edges. It was almost, but not quite enough. Just a little further... "Why not?" I prodded Heero, in the most unemotional tone I could muster. "Why do you care if he got hurt?"

tell him...

"Because..." he took another trembling gasp, and the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what came next. "Because I love him."

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

The universe seemed to miss a beat, for a moment. I felt an instant of weightlessness, as though I had just stepped into free-fall; then the world settled around me, as Heero said the words again. "I love him. I didn't want to lose him, I didn't mean to kill him. Oh, God, Duo, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I killed you, I didn't mean to do it -- I know I don't deserve you, but I need you! I love you, and I don't want to lose you, do whatever you want to me, anything, just don't leave me again!" Once the flow of words, of tears, had started, he couldn't control them, and as he sobbed he began to rock back and forth in time to his words.

I was shaking, I realized, as I looked up from Heero's ravaged face and saw Duo standing over him, still as a marble statue. Slowly, I stood, meeting his deathly amethyst eyes as we faced each other across Heero. Neither of us spoke, but a wordless communication passed between us, until finally Duo broke away from the gaze. His eyes fell on the broken, supplicant form of the Japanese pilot. "Shit," he said to no-one in particular, as he stared down at the man he had once loved. "Aw, hell..." he muttered, and let out a long sigh. The nightmarish church wavered finally and vanished, into a soft gray mist that silently enveloped the two of them. I felt my own focus wavering; the last thing I saw before the quiet grayness swept me away was Duo hesitantly leaning over Heero and placing gentle hands on his shoulders.

The sight made me want to smile, or maybe cry with relief, but I found myself unable to do either as the screaming tension finally dissolved out of me, carrying away with it all conscious thought.



Light once again made its presence known before any other sensation, but this time, instead of a sullen orange glow it was a brilliant, welcoming white. This felt like it ought to be significant, somehow, the light at the end of the tunnel; I frowned and blinked as I tried to place it, and with those simple movements I was suddenly aware of other things. Like the soft humming of machinery somewhere nearby, and the warm hand clasping my own.

"Trowa?" I muttered, my voice coming out raw and unpracticed. I cleared my throat, with some effort, and tried to focus on the blurry silhouette belonging to that hand. "That you?"

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

The universe seemed to miss a beat, for a moment. I felt an instant of weightlessness, as though I had just stepped into free-fall; then the world settled around me, as Heero said the words again. "I love him. I didn't want to lose him, I didn't mean to kill him. Oh, God, Duo, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I killed you, I didn't mean to do it -- I know I don't deserve you, but I need you! I love you, and I don't want to lose you, do whatever you want to me, anything, just don't leave me again!" Once the flow of words, of tears, had started, he couldn't control them, and as he sobbed he began to rock back and forth in time to his words.

I was shaking, I realized, as I looked up from Heero's ravaged face and saw Duo standing over him, still as a marble statue. Slowly, I stood, meeting his deathly amethyst eyes as we faced each other across Heero. Neither of us spoke, but a wordless communication passed between us, until finally Duo broke away from the gaze. His eyes fell on the broken, supplicant form of the Japanese pilot. "Shit," he said to no-one in particular, as he stared down at the man he had once loved. "Aw, hell..." he muttered, and let out a long sigh. The nightmarish church wavered finally and vanished, into a soft gray mist that silently enveloped the two of them. I felt my own focus wavering; the last thing I saw before the quiet grayness swept me away was Duo hesitantly leaning over Heero and placing gentle hands on his shoulders.

The sight made me want to smile, or maybe cry with relief, but I found myself unable to do either as the screaming tension finally dissolved out of me, carrying away with it all conscious thought.



Light once again made its presence known before any other sensation, but this time, instead of a sullen orange glow it was a brilliant, welcoming white. This felt like it ought to be significant, somehow, the light at the end of the tunnel; I frowned and blinked as I tried to place it, and with those simple movements I was suddenly aware of other things. Like the soft humming of machinery somewhere nearby, and the warm hand clasping my own.

"Trowa?" I muttered, my voice coming out raw and unpracticed. I cleared my throat, with some effort, and tried to focus on the blurry silhouette belonging to that hand. "That you?"

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

On the second attempt, my voice came out a bit clearer, and I managed to make out my lover's brilliant smile. He didn't smile often, and never like that, even without the tears that glittered in his eyes to accompany them, and his voice was husky with emotion. "You did it, Little One!" he said softly, squeezing my hand. "You did it..."

"I did?" I repeated numbly, trying to process everything.

"The station generators came on-line not long ago, and Heero's condition stabilized soon after. I don't know what you did, Quatre, but it worked..."

"Yeah..." I said, as I struggled to sit. After a moment of indecision, Trowa helped me, swinging my legs to the edge of the hospital bed and placing a supportive hand on my back. I reached up and touched my chest in bewilderment; for the first time in far too long, my Spaceheart didn't constantly ache. Something was different, something was gone, and with a rapidly sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I knew what it was. The lights burned steadily; the room was warm, and the air silent. There were no angry ghosts here.

No more.

A soft groan echoed through the medical bay, and I quickly pushed myself to my feet -- leaning on Trowa more than I would have liked to -- and together we made our way over to the other hospital bed, still surrounded with the life-support machines. The boy on the bed shifted uncomfortably, reaching up to brush ineffectually at the oxygen mask until Wufei reached out one-handed and removed it for him. He glanced up at us across the hospital bed, and the killing tension was gone from his black eyes. "He's awake," he said quietly; rather obvious, it was true, but it was almost so hard to believe as to make the pronouncement necessary.

I nodded acknowledgment, and let out a long sigh, leaning against Trowa, reassuring myself of his presence. Heero's loss was still a searing wound in my Spaceheart, but I had to remember that it was his pain, and not my own. I... would never be alone.

Of course, the war still wasn't finished.

Something glittered in the bright light, on Heero's face. I reached out and brushed the tears from his cheeks, fascinated by the sight; Heero Yuy was crying. I'd seen it in the vision, but somehow hadn't really believed that it could be true. "Heero?" I said quietly.

He opened his crystal blue eyes, and the tears escaped his eyelids to spill over onto the hospital pillow. "It's over," he whispered, so quietly I barely heard him over the silence.

I felt Trowa tense, as the implications of Heero's words began to sink in. I rested my head against his chest, feeling his warmth through the fabric of his turtleneck. "He's gone," I murmured sadly, feeling tired and worn. "Really gone, now."

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

On the second attempt, my voice came out a bit clearer, and I managed to make out my lover's brilliant smile. He didn't smile often, and never like that, even without the tears that glittered in his eyes to accompany them, and his voice was husky with emotion. "You did it, Little One!" he said softly, squeezing my hand. "You did it..."

"I did?" I repeated numbly, trying to process everything.

"The station generators came on-line not long ago, and Heero's condition stabilized soon after. I don't know what you did, Quatre, but it worked..."

"Yeah..." I said, as I struggled to sit. After a moment of indecision, Trowa helped me, swinging my legs to the edge of the hospital bed and placing a supportive hand on my back. I reached up and touched my chest in bewilderment; for the first time in far too long, my Spaceheart didn't constantly ache. Something was different, something was gone, and with a rapidly sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I knew what it was. The lights burned steadily; the room was warm, and the air silent. There were no angry ghosts here.

No more.

A soft groan echoed through the medical bay, and I quickly pushed myself to my feet -- leaning on Trowa more than I would have liked to -- and together we made our way over to the other hospital bed, still surrounded with the life-support machines. The boy on the bed shifted uncomfortably, reaching up to brush ineffectually at the oxygen mask until Wufei reached out one-handed and removed it for him. He glanced up at us across the hospital bed, and the killing tension was gone from his black eyes. "He's awake," he said quietly; rather obvious, it was true, but it was almost so hard to believe as to make the pronouncement necessary.

I nodded acknowledgment, and let out a long sigh, leaning against Trowa, reassuring myself of his presence. Heero's loss was still a searing wound in my Spaceheart, but I had to remember that it was his pain, and not my own. I... would never be alone.

Of course, the war still wasn't finished.

Something glittered in the bright light, on Heero's face. I reached out and brushed the tears from his cheeks, fascinated by the sight; Heero Yuy was crying. I'd seen it in the vision, but somehow hadn't really believed that it could be true. "Heero?" I said quietly.

He opened his crystal blue eyes, and the tears escaped his eyelids to spill over onto the hospital pillow. "It's over," he whispered, so quietly I barely heard him over the silence.

I felt Trowa tense, as the implications of Heero's words began to sink in. I rested my head against his chest, feeling his warmth through the fabric of his turtleneck. "He's gone," I murmured sadly, feeling tired and worn. "Really gone, now."

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

"Wufei?" Heero's voice came faintly, and his eyes began to focus, struggling to return him to the present.

"Here," Wufei replied, moving into his line-of-sight.

"He asked me..." Heero began, before his voice faded out and he had to start again. "He told me to tell you, that he was sorry. For shooting you. He said he hoped he didn't hurt you too badly."

Wufei closed his own eyes, and bowed his head, as though to shut out the world. "It wasn't necessary," he muttered. "Maxwell's anger was... entirely justified."

"I'm sorry, too," Heero added, after a moment, shifting his attention to include Trowa as well.

"For what?" Trowa asked his friend, keeping his voice level.

"For making you keep my secret," Heero answered. "Even though you knew I was wrong. I finally realized what I was doing wrong. Quatre showed me." His lips twitched, into the barest hint of a smile, painful to look at. "You've got quite a treasure there, Trowa," he told him, his cobalt eyes flicking down to me and then back again to meet Trowa's emerald ones. "Don't ever take him for granted."

"Oh, I don't," Trowa breathed, and his hands tightened on my arms.

"Quatre," he said, and my chest tightened painfully. I didn't want to be the focus of his attention, but I forced myself to meet his eyes. My heart almost broke when he took a deep breath, and said, "Thank you."

"Don't," I denied shakily. "It wasn't anything I did."

"But it was," he insisted. "You saved me."

Re: Torn 7

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

For some reason I had trouble being proud, of what I'd done... but the truth of his statement couldn't be denied. At the very least, I helped him save himself, from the ultimate self-destruction. And Duo was at peace now. I had to take comfort in that. Somehow, I mustered a smile for Heero; the sight of it seemed to relieve him more than the effort warranted. He gave a small sigh, and relaxed. His body was thin and pale surrounded by the stark white hospital sheets, and the ungainly machinery; far to small to support even one such warlike spirit, much less two. "I hurt," he admitted reluctantly, in the voice of a small child.

"I should think so, considering the condition your body is in," Wufei told him with some asperity. "I'd give you a list, but I don't have an hour to spare..."

"Just rest now," Trowa told him softly, glancing between Heero and me and Wufei. "We have time for you to heal."

"Heal?" Heero said bleakly. "I can't. I can't. Duo... he..." His hands spasmed, and clenched into fists around the bedsheet. His breathing quickened, and the heart monitor began to beep a plaintive alarm.

"Shh, Heero, it's all right," I hastened to soothe him, leaning over to brush away the last of the drying tears. "We have a war to fight soon, and you're going to hurt yourself if you don't let it go. Ease off a little, Heero, and sleep. We'll stay with you... I promise..."

An echo of a voice whispered behind my words, and died. Heero's eyes closed; he slept, or fell back into unconsciousness, it didn't really matter which. Without the need for speech, the three remaining pilots found seats against the wall of the hospital room, and settled in for a long wait. We couldn't heal the tear in Heero's soul; no living person could. But we would stay with him, be there for him, assure that he was never left alone.

In time, maybe that would be enough.





~OWARI~