Author: avianite
Title: June Bug
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Comment: A bunch of grammar errors and some misplaced commas. Feel free to point them out. CC is always welcome. This is just Heero characterization stuff. Towards the end, I begin to disagree with myself more and more.

June Bug

Heero lived his life letting everyone thinking he needed something.

Odin thought that he needed a father, and that was why he killed a man and half stumbled out an advice to him before he died - follow your emotions. At that time, Heero just remembered being really small. It was the first time he had ever looked down at Odin, but he had said, "Yes sir, thank you," as if he had been doing it all his life, and walked away from the bloody body determined to never think about his father again. After all, that was what Odin was -- a father. He came into his life like all fathers did, and died, like all people do.

When Heero met Relena, she thought that Heero needed a princess because Heero was a prince. She saw him galloping away on his horse at school one day and Heero thought if only, if only there was a sunset, she could be true. But all there was, was a brick building, clouds, and a sun so high that he could almost pretend it was moving back towards morning.

Duo shot him because he believed even Heero needed a hero. Later that day, Duo rescued him from the hospital and Heero tried to commit suicide, because what Heero thought was that he didn't need anything at all. After the war was over, sometimes when he slept with Duo, he was so close he could almost hear his own sob stories growing inside Duo's head. There was always a soldier and a human, and what the soldier did was bad and what the human did was good. It was almost like Duo was dating two different people and in an odd way, Heero was jealous.

"I'm sorry for what Dr. J has done to you," Relena had said one day. She was holding his hands in the hospital after he had fainted in her arms, failing to kill a child.

Heero looked up and he could see sympathy so sharp that it almost made his own heart ache.

"He told me, you know," she went on, "that you weren't always like this," and Heero wanted to ask "like what?" because he didn't know what was wrong with himself.

"After this, I'm going to make sure that you enjoy life more, Heero," Relena said with that same solemn voice as if Heero had cancer and was dying. But Heero wasn't dying or going to die, and although he wouldn't mind dying for some bigger cause, he didn't really want to die right at that second; he enjoyed the feeling of lush grass on his back too much, because it was something that felt almost new; he enjoyed the feeling of his gun pressed against his hips, because it was familiar; he hated large crowds, because they were sticky and burning with the smell of body odor, but he had enjoyed the small space of Wing's cockpit because it felt like winter inside a cabin and a burning fireplace.

Heero had dreamed of living in the woods once. He would build himself a house, and a table, and chairs that he spent hours on so that they would not wobble when the earth shook. He could hunt, then come home and read all the books he had wanted to read as a child but never had time to. Books that he found wedged in between wars and dirty politics in the ten thousand years of history he had memorized when he was 10 and living with Dr. J. He could also go searching for plants to make homemade medicine because Heero thought that they had a better feel to them inside his mouth than the small, hard pills he swallowed at the hospital.

However, Heero ended up living in an apartment made out of bricks with a table that was glossy enough to reflect back his face whenever he sat down to eat, and chairs that were smooth with patterns on the wood that were perfect enough to have been done by a machine. When Dr. J asked him if he liked his apartment, Heero had to nod because he remembered the vague looks of guilt the old man had sent his way when he was a child and watching a video of a young boy around his age drinking a tall glass of milk while he waited for his mother to finish baking the chocolate chip cookies. It was to show him all that he did not have and will not have, but how he was supposed to act like he did have - the ways of a normal society. Heero nearly said to Dr. J that he was fine here, but he knew that if he did, it would come out like he was telling a lie. Heero wondered when people became so distrustful, and how he was supposed to want something that felt too strange, too young, for him to receive, like a mother's kiss.

In all honesty, Heero had grown up much too early for him to realize that he was too young to be old, and without even knowing it, when he turned that age where suits were something to be worn, not taken off, he sometimes jumped back to pick up the tiny pieces of childhood he had missed while running forwards and somehow, they became more special that way. The first time he went on a date with Duo, Duo, with hands inside his pocket and a grin tucked inside the corners of his eyes, had asked "Can I kiss you?" And Heero nearly said no before he changed his mind because Duo's lips were already on top of his and it felt as if he was finally reading the first lines of Candide, and Catch 22, and Little Prince all at the same time with another stack of books on his lap just for comfort. Later, Heero went out and bought the books and read them in one week.

One day, Duo came over, picked up a few books and asked him if he was writing a book report. It was a joke, but when Heero had shrugged, Duo had said, "I don't like secrets between us, Heero," because Duo had that eerie way of knowing what was important and what was not. Heero just had to nod because there was nothing he enjoyed more than a secret between himself locked away somewhere inside his head where only he could pull it out to enjoy. It was almost like the brief smiles Duo gave him in the morning after sex with a warm look in his eyes and lust on his lips. The only difference was that Duo couldn't take it away and hand them out to the next guy who could shove a dick up his ass and make him like it. What it finally came down to was that Heero, in all his perfection, was a control freak. And nobody could blame him because there was always a soldier and a human and the soldier did everything bad and the human did everything good. Heero could only give a knowing smile, brief enough to be a part of an imagination.


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