Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any characters in it. Gundam Wing belongs to Sotsu, Sunrise, ANB, and other rich people. I am not making any money off of this, and I have no money so don't sue me.
Warnings: 2+5. Simple musings, implied shounen ai, ok, we're going slightly beyond implied but there's still nothing explicit. More angst, lots of angst.
Then they turn back into shapes and I think I can see faces and eyes. She's in the forefront. She's hungriest of all. She's angry, and doesn't like him blinding me from my faults, my failures, and my cause. And so she leads them, the misty shades of my victims, of my failures, towards me. She silently screams that we must be punished… Yet the only real sound is the thump of the rain against the roof and the hissing it makes against the windows.
Unlike last night.
For the first time since she became my demon I find myself not caring about her screams and cries for me to do my duty. Last night… last night the rain fell too. Lightning lit the sky and thunder growled. But the only real sound to disturb my sleep was the insistence of the rain, so similar to her cries.
His cries were louder.
They were more disturbing, more compelling than hers could ever be. They pulled me out of sleep, pulled me away from her voice. They pulled me all the way out of my bed and down the hall to his room.
I knocked. I swear I did. I would never invade his privacy otherwise. He did not answer, just screamed louder. I have never heard such horror in one voice. Never.
So I entered. I walked into the mess that Maxwell calls home. Clothes and comics were scattered everywhere between the door and his bed at the back of the room. I couldn't see how he could walk through there without breaking his neck. I tripped a half dozen times making my way over. He just lay there, tossing and turning.
He was twisted in the sheets, and his braid was coiled around him like a chestnut python. He whimpered and screamed as his dream gripped him tighter. Her voice was silenced completely by his.
I stopped dead beside his bed and wondered what I should do. He had not invited me in, and were I dreaming… no having a nightmare like his, I would not want witnesses. But neither would I desire to be left to my dreams, to her tender mercies. I was momentarily wracked with indecision, and then he cried out again in utter terror and he tried to pull away from something, but he could not really move, as tangled as he was.
I instantly sat down the bed beside him, ignoring the discomfort of the twisted and lumpy sheets beneath me. I reached out my hand towards his shoulder so I could shake him awake. His skin was cold and clammy with sweat, and my touch made him scream and flinch away at first, then one of his fists came flying at me. I dodged, reached out, and fought to grasp his wrists. I had no desire to have to explain to him, or to Master O, that I could not go on a mission because I had been injured while waking a comrade from a nightmare.
He struggled against my grip and I feared that I would not be able to hold him, and more importantly that he would be hurt fighting me… or whatever haunted his dreams.
“Maxwell,” I called gently, and he just began to struggle harder, crying louder. “Maxwell!” I yelled.
“Maxwell! Maxwell, stop struggling!” He gave a garbled cry as I yelled at him and continued to try to pull away, to fight me.
“Maxwell, stop struggling!” I shouted again, and he almost seemed to be listening even though his muscles remained tense under my hands. I lowered my voice, but its tones remained urgent. “You're going to hurt yourself, or me,” I added as an afterthought.
“You need to wake up now. No one is here to hurt you. You're safe, it's ok, you need to wake up,” I said, my voice softening as he seemed to understand me. His muscles relaxed, but I did not let go. I did not want to chance another flying fist.
“Maxwell, you need to wake up now. Open your eyes,” I told him, and got no response. “Maxwell, open your eyes.” He stopped breathing and I almost panicked.
“Maxwell… Duo,” my voice sounded hesitant to me and I hurriedly firmed it up. “Please, open your eyes.”
“Duo,” I called again. “Duo… Duo, come on now, open your eyes.” He, being the stubborn person that he is, continued to ignore my worried calls. However, his eyes did flicker beneath their lids, and I took hope from that, even though he continued to hold his breath.
“Duo, come on now, Duo—“ my voice was cut off by the thunder that let out a loud growl directly over the house. He bolted upright, breath leaving his chest explosively, and his eyes were wide and unseeing, while a bolt of lightning lit the room up.
He then seemed to come back to reality, and I was there sitting in front of him. I wanted to help him but I had no idea what to do. She had always derided my attempts to get to know her better, to help her with her problems. I decided to try anyway.
“Duo, are you all right?” I asked, cringing inside at how inadequate the words were. He obviously wasn't all right, no one who'd been dreaming the way he had been was truly all right. And his eyes spelled it out even more clearly. There was no light in them, they were devastated. No, they were dead.
I hated the sight.
He looked down, away from me, and I watched him scan the room, and only then did he appear to notice how my hands were immobilizing his. I did not let go; instead I repeated my question. “Duo, are you all right?”
He swallowed and sucked air into his lungs. He didn't answer again, and my worry and unease grew. “Duo?” I asked again.
He pulled his hands free of mine and picked at the sheets, searching for words. Eventually he spoke. “Thanks for waking me, 'Fei,” he said, a slight, strained smile coming onto his face. It did not reach his eyes and something froze inside my heart. 'He should not ever look that way' ran irreverently through my mind.
“I'm fine,” he said and began to seriously disentangle himself from the sheets, instead of just picking at them. I did not believe him, and I could see he did not believe himself; he merely wanted the words to be true. “Completely fine,” he mumbled as he crawled rapidly out of his bed and away from me. He stepped onto the floor and rapidly made his way to the window, and then added, “which is more than can be said for most people…”
I wondered precisely what he meant by that, but his evasion of my question did not leave me much hope for answers. Instead I stood and approached him at the window, and asked him if he was sure.
He continued to stare at the window for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Thanks again,” he added. He half paused and then finished with, “You should get some sleep, Wu-man, who knows what tomorrow will bring.” The words were forced and I could not bring myself to be annoyed that he had called me Wu-man.
“Did you want to talk about it?” I asked, frowning. “Your dream appeared most unpleasant.” I hoped that he would tell me about it, that he'd get it out, that he could go back to being the Maxwell that I…
I cut the thought off as he answered me. “No, but thanks.” He flashed me that ghastly, false smile, his eyes still dead. “I really can't.”
I could not and would not force his confidence; I needed him too much for that. I flinched away from the thought, and made my way from the door. “Very well then,” I told him, nodding. “Good night, Maxwell.”
He came towards the door, saying, “Night, Wu.” I stepped out of his room and he shut the door firmly behind me. I paused, and began to shake slightly, as I realized that I had called him by his first name, repeatedly, and that I'd thought that I'd needed him. I needed his laughter and light. I wanted him to need me, as much as I needed him, and more than that I wanted him to talk to me.
Instead there was only silence from his room. I slowly headed down the hall to my room, and as I opened the door to it I heard a thump from his room, and heart wrenching sobs.
I paused, half in and half out of my doorway, caught in indecision. I wanted to go back to him, but he'd already said he didn't want me there, that he didn't need me. I didn't know what to do. So, I did nothing. I entered my room and listened to her cold, mocking laughter. My demon was making up for lost time.
I did not go back to bed. I would not have slept. Instead, I curled up in my window seat, the room as dark as the night outside, and stared out the window. I listened to her laughter, her mockery of everything that I am, the whispering of the rain that alternately echoed her voice and punctuated his ragged sobs. I'll never forget the sound of them.
Morning came in silence, and the sky lightened from the black of night, to the gray of ghosts and shadows. Still I sit here, pondering my failures, my wants, and my demon's cries.
I know why she leads them to the house. They want to punish me for my mistakes. She wants to use them to stop me. She is not pleased that I am abandoning her; that I do not care about her anymore. I have a new cause.
I will not abandon the colonies, for they still need me to fight for them. It would not be just or right to abandon them to the depredations of OZ. But now I have a reason to live beyond the end of the war. I need him; I may even…love him. I do not entirely know, but I want to. I think he needs me as well, whether or not he will admit it to himself.
I will wait for him, even though I am unworthy of him…
If he needs me I will be there for him; if he loves me I will welcome him with open arms, for it is his happiness that matters. If he decides that he does not need me, ever, then that will be my true punishment for all of my failures to her and my colony.
If the day ever comes that he claims me, then we will deal with our shades together. I defy her, and the misty shapes she leads. I defy her and I will do it all for him.
~Finis
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Copyright 2005