Sleep 2/?
by: Zillie
pairings: although this features a relationship between 1+R, it is to my mind a love story about 1+2.
warnings: yaoi, het, Relena sympathy, language, dreams, flying monkeys.
notes: the song featured herein is by blink 182. I know, I know-- believe me, I've heard all the reasons why people hate them, but you know what? I don't. The song's called "What Went Wrong?" and I like it :).
feedback: ^_- this is the part where I beg, right?

song lyrics
present tense--dream
past tense--actual event
dialogue in dreams and flashbacks is not in quotes

Sleep + Part 2


I'm sick of always hearing all those sad songs on the radio All day it is there to remind an oversensitive guy that he's lost and alone yeah


Breakfast. Heero listened to Relena's light chatter, ate the Belgian waffles with strawberries that Relena had made for him at least once a week, and never once thought of the fact that this had been Duo's favorite breakfast first. Never once let his mind wander to how Duo had looked in whipped cream and strawberries. How he had tasted in them.

"I had a dream last night."

His fork stilled midway between his plate and his mouth; a strawberry fell with the weight of a body.


Duo would have laughed at that thought -- had at one similar once. It's Heero popcorn! he laughed. Look -- this one falls off the theatre balcony and sets its own broken bones. . . this one, when exposed to a little heat, blew itself up, and this one, and there he tossed it into his mouth, I just can't stop eating.

Heero, more content to watch his lover than the Lon Chaney movies that were currently on screen, had been grateful for the almost empty theatre. Does everything make you think of sex? he had asked.

Duo had paused, astonished. Of course. Everything. Especially everything that has to do with you. He had leaned into his lover's shoulder.

And popcorn has to do with me?

He could still remember the feel of Duo's eyelashes on his tank top bared shoulder. You're both here, Duo had said softly, you both taste so good, and you're both mine.

Onscreen the hunchback of Notre Dame lamented the Gypsy he could never hold on to. No matter how hard he tried.


I hate our favorite restaurant our favorite movie our favorite show


Relena noticed nothing -- not that there was anything to notice, Heero allowed. Strawberries falling -- hardly earthshaking news. "Good dream?" he asked.

"You were in it," she said. He supposed that was a yes. "You and I were on a beach," she said. "Just walking. And you had one hand sort of worked into my hair, and the other one crossed in front of you, holding mine. And we just walked slowly along, and then this little girl ran up to us with seashells. And I looked at her -- and she had your eyes. And my nose. And it was like I could feel the three of us -- feel you in my body and me in yours and both of us in this little girl -- and I felt like there was no such thing as loneliness in the world."

He set his fork down and motioned to her. She smiled, a bit tremulously, and came over to stand beside him. He pulled her into his lap. "I know the feeling," he said, and kissed her. Worked his hand through her hair to cup the back of her head, and tried to show her how much not being alone meant to him.


We would stay up all through the night we would laugh and get high And never answer the phone


He is in a field of bright flowers; everyone has turned up to watch the flying monkeys play. He's almost sure that the rules are wrong -- they've got the grapes, but who plays hockey with sticks? It doesn't matter, though; he just leans back until the ground is beneath his head and the tall flowers surround him. Almost like being in a suit, he thinks, and he is afraid to move his hands because what if he does and the controls are there?

A familiar laugh. Nearby.

He sits up, the controls and the suit gone -- just the flowers.

Nightmare averted.

You look good in yellow, Duo says, sitting beside him. He plucks a bright dandelion and twirls it, runs his finger along the snapped stem and offers the white sap to Heero. When the other boy makes no movement, Duo shrugs, and sticks the flower behind his lover's ear. There. Beautiful.

Am I the only one? Heero asks.

You always have been.

I mean the dreams. Do you show up in anybody else's dreams?

Duo shrugs. Not so far as I know. He reaches out, threads his fingers through Heero's hair, cups the back of his head in one capable hand. You're the only one.

A child runs by, and Heero almost notices something.

The home team scores a goal, and the flowers leap to their feet, yelling excitedly. Heero wonders if he should care. She's still looking for you, you know, he says.


Intelligence reports today. She says it's dangerous to have a Gundam pilot completely unaccounted for.

Duo's eyes are hard to read; the glare of the sun makes it hard for Heero to look at him. I'm surprised she wants me found. After all -- you were mine first.

She's not like that, Heero defends. She'd do it, you know. She'd let me go, if you showed up one day. Every time she's expecting the results she gets a little nervous -- as if she's getting ready to say goodbye to me.

I wonder, Duo says, his hand gently rubbing Heero's stomach, what you'd do if she did find me.

I'd kill you, Heero says simply. I'd beat you to a pulp. And then I'd cry. And then. . . I don't know.


I can't forgive


Duo laughs, a sound without humor. And slides his hands down Heero's arms, until their palms are flat against each other. He doesn't take his eyes from his true lover's as he links their fingers. I found a flower!

Heero starts, and looks over.

The child is perfect -- long hair, braided, dark as his own. The color of Duo's eyes, the shape of his own. His ears. Duo's smile. He can feel them -- little bits of Duo and this boy woven into his body, small beautiful threads of their love touching every atom of his being. He has never felt more lonely.


Can't forget


There is an injury; one monkey takes the bench, another is shut into the penalty box with Dorothy Catalonia and a good supply of leather.

Don't, he says.

Duo shrugs. This one's all yours. I didn't bring it with me. He separates one hand from Heero and reaches out. The boy is unnaturally silent -- he extends a hand to meet Duo's.

Don't, Heero pleads, and the child blinks, and is gone.

Duo's hand stays extended; the look on his face reminds Heero of the way that people would look at you, in that second after you killed them, in that breath before they were dead.

It begins to snow and he can no longer feel Duo's hand in his. Don't leave, he begs.

I have to.

Promise you'll come back.

Duo looks anguished. You have to let me go, Heero. You have to let me let you go.

Promise me. Promise.

And like salvation there is a touch, and the familiar sensation of Duo wrapping the cross. Just once more.


Can't give in


Heero tries to cover Duo's hand in his own, but the other boy is fading, and his hand finds only the gold cross. Duo reaches up to touch him, but all he can do is stroke the glass. Heero, inside it, watches his lover fade. The snow comes down -- the flowers fade to gray -- someone shakes the snow globe again and places it on a shelf. Heero doesn't mind being inside the snow globe -- he just wishes they'd stop shaking.

"Stop," he mumbles.

"Then wake up," Relena said, exasperated, then laughed. "You can't sleep outside, Heero -- it'll be dark before too long. If you're tired, come inside."

He opened his eyes. "Relena?"

She smiled, that sweet, shy smile that was reserved for him -- so different from the polished but genuine smile the rest of the world saw. "I was on my way back when I saw you here. Tired?"

Heero sat up slowly. "I must have been." As he rose, a flower fell from behind his ear -- he caught it reflexively, took one look, and closed his hand around the dandelion.

Relena's gardeners would never have such flowers growing in the estate.

"You done for today?" he asked, pulling her up with him, letting her rest against his body for a minute. She nodded against his shoulder. "Anything interesting? You met with Intelligence on us today, didn't you?"

"Yes," she said, and laughed a little. "They're never quite sure what to say about you. Pilot 01," she said, lowering her voice in mimicry of her informant, "is, uh, well, that is to say, ma'am, he's shacking up with you. And then I always have to bite my tongue -- literally -- to keep from saying something really snarky back."

"Like what?"


What went wrong?


"Oh, like, really? I hadn't noticed. Or -- you must be mistaken. My girlfriend would never stand for that. Or," and she chattered on. He walked back to the house, his arm linked with hers, and stole glances at her nose.

He knew without her saying it that she had no information on Duo. He hadn't expected anything else.


Cause you said this was right


Later that night he went to the small box that was his most prized possession and placed two items in it. The first was a fading dandelion. The second was a small braid, composed of one strand of his dark hair, one long bright strand from a much lighter head, and one strand of hair that was somewhere in between.


You fucked up my life


I'm sick of always hearing sappy love songs on the radio
This place it's fucking cursed and it's plagued
And I can never escape when my heart it explodes
I can't forgive can't forget can't give in what went wrong?
Cause you said this was right.
You fucked up my life.
I'm kicking how fiercely at the world around me
What went wrong?
I'm kicking -- how fiercely at the world around me
What went wrong?
I'm kicking -- how fiercely at the world -- around me
What went wrong?
I'm kicking -- how fiercely -- at the world -- around me
What went wrong?
I'm kicking --

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