PS: This is not suppose to yaoi despite what anyone might say to the contrary.
Duo stepped out of the small bathroom of the motel room, a pair of dark pants on and using one of the towels provided to dry his loose hair. At one time the towel might have been white, but constant use and age had turned it a sickly pale yellow. The pilot padded softly across rough green-brown carpet to sit on the single bed which sunk threatening under his weight. Heero's cot leaned folded against one wall, next to a single pillow, and an old army blanket.
Soft violet-blue eyes roamed restlessly over the room, searching for some type of distraction. Heero had left earlier to check out the area and get some food, and he still hadn't returned. So he couldn't talk to him to ease the pain. The room itself offered nothing, not even comfort. Greasy paint peeled in thin chips from the walls, and the single mirror was cracked from where something had been thrown at it. He didn't even bother turning on the television, having discovered earlier that all it got was static.
He hated this. Being alone like this. While people were around, Duo could pretend that everything was all right, could ignore the gaping ripped places that ran across his soul. Because as long as people were around he had an excuse, and that allowed him to talk and laugh and joke like nothing was wrong. It didn?t make the wounded places go away, but it did let him live with them.
Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
But now he was alone, with nothing to stop the darkness in his soul from reaching out with clawed hands to try and drag him under. Absently, Duo drew his knees to his chest on the bed, wrapping his arms around his legs in a defensive posture. There was silence, so much silence, and it pressed down on him from all sides. The heavy weight of his hair fell around him in a damp curtain as small shivers began to race through his frame.
Why did I ever become a Gundam pilot? Stupid question. He knew the answer. To have a second chance to do it right this time. To make sure that nobody he knew died again in this war. For the chance to prove that he could do it, that he could help end the war. To try and make everything okay again. And, finally, in the memory of all who had already died. That's why he was a Gundam pilot.
Yet what good was a Gundam pilot if he couldn't even control his emotions? Self hate came in a thick wave nearly choking Duo. He was worthless. He couldn't do anything right. Solo had died, Father Maxwell, even Sister Helen. Everyone who had made him feel like something other than a piece of gutter trash had died. Was someone trying to tell him something?
I need some distraction or a beautiful release
Duo closed suspiciously bright eyes against the pain needing a way to release the pressure that was building in him. If nothing was going to distract him from the pain, then he needed to go on and break down. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. Slowly, without his conscious thought, Duo began to rock back and forth, now desperately wishing for the tears to come. He needed this to stop before it completely ripped him to shreds leaving nothing left but a small shivering shell of a person.
With the closing of his eyes came the memories. He once again saw Solo's broken body and the same feeling of anguish and uselessness came over him. In the blink of an eye he was in the ruins of Maxwell Church, Sister Helen's slim and battered body slowly going limp in his arms. Then he was nothing but a lost orphan on the streets watching as soldiers beat yet another street brat until he died. He'd wanted to help so badly but he knew that if he tried he'd only die as well.
Pain shivered through him again. Duo both wanted to remember, and didn't. He never wanted to forget those who had died, but at the same time he didn't want to relive their deaths. But instead of pushing the memories away, Duo welcomed them, knowing that the more he pushed, the sooner he would break. Then the release would drive him towards the hollow, empty place inside him. It was the place that would numb the pain, would in fact numb him to everything if only for a few brief moments. In that place he could find some sense of peace however small.
In the arms of the Angel far away from here
One memory came forth, pushing all others aside in its strength. It was a memory of one of the times when Duo had broke in Maxwell church. He had been thinking about his family when suddenly he couldn't take it any more. He had laid curled up and sobbing on the cold floor until Sister Helen had found him. She had not asked any questions, or demanded any explanations. She had simply wrapped her arms around him and offered comfort while he wept for all that he had lost.
Duo went ridged on the bed, his head coming up off his knees. For a moment he had thought that he had felt someone wrapping their arms around him. But there was no one in the room but him, was there? Suddenly he smelled lilacs and cloth, heard a gentle step and a soft voice, felt hands brushing his bangs from his forehead. They were all things he associated with Sister Helen. He supposed he could fight to keep straight what was reality and what was not, but why? He was so tired. With a sigh, Duo closed his eyes letting memory and reality blurred.
Sister Helen's strong arms were wrapped around him and he broke, pain overflowing with the tears. The feel of the cloth of her robe was rough against his cheek as he buried his face against ther chest. In a rapid stumbling voice Duo told Sister Helen about all that he had done since her passing, everything that had torn his soul apart and left him like he was. He was so afraid that if he didn?t tell her everything now he would never get the chance again. There was no judgement in her voice, just soft nonsense words to sooth him. Somehow, it made Duo cry all that much harder.
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
"Duo." The one word was all the warning Heero gave as he pushed the door open, his hands full of bags of groceries. With a jerk, Duo slammed back into reality. His head came up and he watched a slightly stunned look come over Heero's face with tears still coming from his eyes. For a moment he considered letting the other pilot know what was happening. He was so tired of making everyone think he was all right.
Then he remembered all the times he had been betrayed or had had his emotions used against him. Duo couldn't do it. Instead, he leapt off the bed and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door in behind him and giving the doorknob a hard shove to jam it. Then he wedged himself between the tub and the toilet just to feel the cool tile and porcelain. Maybe Heero would leave him alone until it was over. Maybe he could still pretend everything was all right. Maybe Heero would let him forget about the whole thing. Maybe not.
"Duo, open the door."
"No. I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Duo winced a the sound of his own voice. It was raw from his crying, and the strained tones as he strived for his usual cheerfulness sounded false even to his own ears. But it didn't matter. Heero wasn't going to get into the bathroom short of breaking the door down.
It don't make no difference, escape one last time
The sound of wood cracking was loud in the bathroom as the pilot of Wing began to batter the door down. Duo looked up in time to see the rusty hinges give sending both Heero and the door clattering to the tile floor. Heero slowly stood up and watched Duo with unreadable blue eyes. Then he walked over to where the braided pilot was and knelt down on the tiles facing him. Finally after several moments of tension, he catiously put a hand on Duo's knee, not quite knowing what to do.
"Why are you crying?" It seemed a safe enough question for Heero to ask. In truth, it wasn't. Duo realized with a small shock that he had no answer to give. He didn't know why he got like this having never questioned it before. The pilot of Shinagami had always just accepted it as a part of himself. As he realized he had no answer, the pit that had begun to close yawned open once more and he began to cry again.
Tentative hands reached out and grasped Duo's shoulders. He didn't know whether they were trying to comfort or shake him, and he didn't give himself a chance to ask. Instead, Duo threw himself at Heero, using the other pilot's shirt to muffle his sorrow. When Heero's arms came around him to hold in a loose embrace, he just cried that much harder.
In the arms of the Angel far away from here
Slowly the wracking sobs faded to tears, then from tears to deep, shivering breaths, and finally from shivering breaths to half awake numbness. Duo lay limply in Heero's arms, knowing he should get or explain but not able to find the strength to do it. Finally the other pilot picked him up, carried him into the bedroom, and laid him down on the bed. Then Heero did the last thing Duo expected him to do. He crawled into the bed beside the braided pilot and wrapped his arms around him again.
Heero was relying on instinct to get him through this. His instinct told him that Duo did not need to be left alone, so he had decided that they could share the bed for one night. In a way he was glad that the instinct was there, because in all honesty he had know idea what to do. People had never been his strong point, and he had enough problems dealing with his own emotions let alone others.
As Duo breathing slowed, Heero began shaking his own personal pain combining with the trauma of having to be there for Duo. Gritting his teeth, Heero fought to keep his emotions under control. Suddenly, the braided pilot?s hold on him tightened and he thought he heard Duo mummur something. Just as quickly as they had started, the shudders stopped. With the tight control over his own emotions back, Heero relaxed and drifted off warm and content in Duo's arms.
You're in the arms of the Angel;
This was a product of about three weeks worth of effort done mostly because Cat kept bugging me to finish it. So I'd like to thank her. I have yet to figure out why most of the fic ideas I get for GW are songfics. Oh well. Thanks for reading.
Angel, a GW song fic
For the break that will make it OK
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
Memories seep from my veins
Let me be empty and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you feel
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
That make up for all that you lack
It's easier to believe
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you feel
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here
May you find some comfort here.
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Susan Lee Gidley
� 1999, Tsaiko