By: Lyssira
Disclaimer: I completely understand that the characters and setting of the Gundam Wing Universe do not belong to me. I make no profit off of this piece, have only written it for my own enjoyment and, hopefully, for the enjoyment for others. However, I hope YOU understand that this is MY storyline, MY writing, no matter how warped or morbid. I respect your claims. You respect mine. Fair enough?
Warnings: ANGST. Dark, creepy story. Blood. Violence. Warped-ness. Shounen Ai. Language. POV (Mostly Duo's I believe) Not for the very religious...including myself..
Pairings: Unknown.
Rating: Drama/Horror-R (just to be on the safe side)

Guilt Whispers To Me + Part 3

<Duo's POV>

I don't think I'll ever know how long I stayed in that graveyard, how much time I spent crying (or not depending on how macho I feel like being each new day) and thinking. It was such a relief to sob and not have anyone hear me. If it wasn't so painful I think I would've done it more often. I hadn't been a child who could simply shed tears. Crying never solved anything. My nose felt like it had been scraped raw, then pressed with salt. My cheeks had dredges from the passage of acidic tears. I probably looked like shit. But, fuck, inside it felt good.

No one visited the yard often; there were weeds overgrown around the fence and I was still prepubescent the last time they mowed the lawn. My sneakers were probably the first to mar the firmly packed Earth for years. That didn't surprise me. This was an average suburban community. Their dance was simple. Birth. Growth. Death. They didn't dwell on the dying because there was no need. Funny, it was all I'd ever known. Death. Growing wasn't important. You're born, you die. Only the lucky get to live in between. I shut the gate behind me, leaving their dead behind. They'd never know I was here. No one would find the tear stains on the old tree or the imprint in overgrown grass of a lost boy...man? Soldier?

I didn't hurry on the way back to the safe house. I could imagine the greeting I'd have. They'd think I was a traitor, Heero would do his little song and dance about removing all obstacles, then I would talk my way out of it. Talking had never been a problem for me. It was admitting the `personal stuff' that always got me. Go figure. Quatre would be compassionate, Wufei would be skeptical and Trowa-Trowa would stand there. I never knew what I'd say to the guys in charge until I arrived at the right place, like an improvisational actor without the applause. If Heero didn't finally kill me, I'd consider myself a hit.

I avoided all people on the way home, taking a winding, twisting route that only the mad or the desperate could understand. That morning's nightmare might have faded within the wrought-iron barriers of the graveyard. But on the sidewalk it returned, fresh in my mind, a horror movie on repeat. The memory of rotting flesh sent shivers down my spine. Where had that come from? Was I finally really succumbing to this? Or was I still dreaming? Does a lunatic know he's insane? I wondered, keeping my eyes on the trees as I walked, willing them not to shrivel and die under my gaze.

They stayed green.

Sunlight flickered off the pavement, warmed my back as I walked. It's golden glow soothed my nerves somewhat and I willed myself not to think anymore until I got back. The less thinking, the less time to regret what might've happened to Wufei if my aim hadn't been off. The less time to think what could've happened on my run away from that house if I'd had my gun. Less time for worrying and regretting. All thinking did was cause grief and drive me closer to the brink. If man had never learned to think, everything would've been so much simpler-- no war, no peace, no need for either.

I studied the blossoms on the fruit trees and smiled. If only. The house we were staying in arrived on my path all too quickly. I watched the spring sky for a long time, standing out on the lawn. The curtains shifted on the windows. I saw them, though no one else would. No one else would be looking. The birds sang above me and I raised my eyes to them. The others could wait, especially if this was the last day I would see the sun. It was beautiful.

I searched the puffy, white clouds for a sign I should say something. What could I say? I'm sorry? Really, sometimes I wondered if I was at all.

The curtains shifted again. I smirked. Impatient are we?

"I didn't lie," I told those clouds, finally. Raising a hand to the heavens, I told the sun goodbye. I told the birds and the grass. I told the kids across the street, even if they didn't hear me.

The door opened without a creak. I stepped across the threshold, allowing it to slam behind me. Quatre, blonde hair nearly white in the gloom, stood before me, shifting his weight. I shrugged, waiting for him to speak. Heero lurked behind the door. Trowa crouched in the next room. I think Wufei was somewhere under the stairwell. If this wasn't an obvious set up, I didn't know what was. Winner's son bit his lip. I could read the war going on behind the blue-green screens. He knew he was supposed to be my friend. But it was his mission to `lure me in.'

"Are you alright Duo?" he asked, taking a step towards me. I took another back.

"I'm just wonderful, thanks."

"Wufei told me you...were kind of upset this morning," he persisted, if reluctantly.

"Oh really," I faked a yawn, studied my fingernails. Grass and gunpowder had mixed under them.

"Yeah. I thought there might have been a mistake," Quatre looked up at me. His eyes were full of hope. He didn't want to break up our fragile little team.

"Do we have to talk about this now, Quat? I need to go work on Deathscythe," I tried to push past him to the living room and, beyond that, the door to the hanger. Naturally, I didn't get that far. A cold ring pressed against my forehead. I let an easy, silly grin spread across my face. My Prussian-eyed counterpart didn't see the humor in the situation. Of course, I'd never known him to find humor in anything that was really funny. The metal bit into my skull. "Why, Heero," I quipped, "what a surprise."

"Confess," he ordered.

"To what, old buddy, old pal?" I asked.

"You're a traitor," Heero growled. I laughed.

If you were any farther from the truth, you'd be on Mars, chum.

"A traitor? Why would I betray you guys?" I blinked my big, blue- violet eyes innocently, blinked for all I was worth.

"I don't know, why would you?" he asked.

Oh, great comeback! Been watching those old, detective movies, Heero?

"Well, if you don't know and I don't know, why doesn't Trowa tell us? Or Wufei? Quatre? C'mon guys, somebody's gotta know," I called cheerfully.

Care to phone a friend?

"Why did you try to kill Wufei?" the `Perfect Soldier' asked me, deadpan. I snorted.

"Kill Wufei? Me? Really, now! You know I'd never harm a hair on Wufei's head!"

"You shot at him and missed," he continued.

"I must've misfired, that's all," I shrugged.

"I don't think so," Heero snapped.

You think? Really? I thought you just followed instructions like a good, wittle puppet.

My smile hardened, "Heero, Heero, don't you know anything? If I'd wanted to kill Wufei, he'd be dead. It was an accident."

The gun pressed harder against my skull. By the time this was finished, I'd have a neat, little round mark in my forehead. Or large, bloody hole.

"What's really going on, Duo?" his glared intensified, as if he could burn holes into my eyes with his own. As if he could see past them into my soul. Ha.

"We can help you, if that's what you need!" Quatre said from behind him, eyes brimming with compassion.

"I don't need help, Quatre, but thanks," I smiled for real. Sweet, dependable Quatre. It's gonna get him killed some day. I moved to walk away but Heero's gun followed me and his free hand moved to clench around my arm. I ignored the pain.

"Admit you need help or admit you betrayed us," he commanded. I laughed aloud again.

"What no choice C?"

"Choice C being I pull the trigger."

"Oh. Well I pick C, then. Cuz, as we all know, you don't have the balls to shoot anyone up close, Heero. Maybe if you back up and climb the stairs a bit, you'll being able to handle it," I said.

Go ahead, Superman, end it all for me.

If it was silent when I walked in, it was tomblike after that. I could've heard a flea hiccup in the silence. Heero's fist tightened around my arm until I couldn't feel it anymore. His eyes were blazing, now. Though, the veins hadn't to start bulging out of his forehead yet. Quatre and Trowa didn't say a word. Wufei, having missed my last statement, poked his head in the doorway. I glanced around at the drab decor. What a place to die. I should've chosen something cooler–more dramatic. Heero's index finger quivered at the trigger. I could see in his eyes he wanted to badly. I wondered if he could see that I wanted him to just as much.

At the last moment, though, he was faltering and I decided it wouldn't be today. I ducked under his arm (Not easy--he's not that much taller than I) and kicked his legs out from under him. He, in turn, grabbed my shirt and yanked me down with him. The gun slid across the floor as we fought, I with no style and he with every method of hand-to-hand combat that the old bastard ever taught him. I landed my share of blows, as did he. We were pretty evenly matched to be honest. After all, Heero may have been handling guns when he was seven, but I was beating the shit out of kids three times my size. He was in the middle of pounding my ribs to powder when Trowa hauled him off me.

"Goddamn you!" Heero growled me, restrained by the taller boy.

"Little late, Heero," I hissed and smiled, despite the blood dripping from my lips. Wufei, pulled me up, hesitantly, as if he were afraid to touch me. I offered no resistance. Trowa guided the Japanese pilot off to the bathroom. He was still glaring so hard his face must have cramped. I grinned. How lovely to infuriate someone. I admit making others suffer when you're feeling shitty is great fun. Heero was an easy target. And I was in the right kind of mood. Wufei's hands still rested on my shoulders.

"Sorry `bout this morning," I said to him, wiping the blood from my lip. It smeared across the back of my hand.

"Why...?" he asked, bemused.

"I'm sure you have bad dreams sometimes, Wufei," I said to him, shaking off his touch.

"Sure," he shrugged.

"Sometimes the bad dreams are just too much," I said simply.

With that, I walked away, knowing he wouldn't follow. He was headed for Nataku. He slept there sometimes, like with me and Deathscythe. Gundanium was the strongest material after all. We were more protected in our suits than anywhere else. I followed the moth-eaten carpet to the hanger door.

Time to give my buddy a visit.

+

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