Author: Chauni

Website: www.oocities.org/asukalangley2nd/

Warnings: Violence, Slight Heero bastardization, Language, Duo POV

Disclaimer: Nope, I don’t own Gundam Wing or the characters, or “Comfortably Numb”. I made no money off this, so please don’t sue me, I am but a poor college girl. ^-^

Comfortably Numb

You know what? When I was younger, I wanted a normal life. I was sick of that living on the streets shit, stealing to get by. I just wanted the typical existence: 2.5 kids, car, house, random pet. You know, what everyone else on the face of the freaking earth had.

Shit, now I just want to survive.

Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?

“You’re all gonna die!”

My voice bounced off the cockpit controls of my Gundam and filled my ears, blocking out the sound of the nearby Leo exploding to the right of me. Flames illuminated everything, the smoke so black and thick it blocked out the sun. It made me think of the theories of how the dinosaurs went extinct; asteroid, dirt, smoke, blocking out that big ol’ ball of heat in the sky. I have weird thoughts sometimes.

A blast jolted me forward and I had to pull hard on my controls to sweep my scythe around and nail that bastard. He probably dented Deathscythe. How rude! Oh, well. The olive suit went up in a burst of fire, the explosion loud enough to block out my own insane laughter.

I pulled back my scythe one last time, about ready to finish off the last mobile suit in the area. It didn’t move, just stood there, a good hundred yards off, facing me, almost mockingly.

“You’re not even going to fight?” I growled. This was a disappointing way to end a mission, very anticlimactic. “Since when did OZ get so pathetic?” Oh, yeah, I’ve been hanging around Wu-man way too much!

A voice crackled over my communications link, deep and full of static. I expected taunts, insults, anything but what I got.

“Please, God, I have a wife and three kids! Please, just let me walk away! I won’t tell anyone about this, just please, have mercy for my kids!”

Oh, God. I about lost it. It wasn’t a mobile suit I was destroying anymore; it was a human being. You don’t have any idea how easy it is to look at those damn machines and think, “Hey, it’s just a bunch of metal” and disregard the total fact that there’s a human being inside there. But this time, for the first time, I had been slapped in the face with it, and boy, did it have one hell of a backhand.

A family. It wasn’t just him I was thinking about; shit, to tell you the truth, I could’ve cared less about this guy. I mean, sure, it’s okay to be all big and brave until you got to face Death, then you can beg for your life? And, sure, this guy was probably using his family as a pathetic bargaining piece, but it didn’t change the fact that they still existed. I didn’t want the kids growing up without a father. It was hell; I knew from experience.

I wanted to stop my movements, to make my scythe not crash into the metal, then cut through it. I didn’t want to the see the spray of sparks everywhere, raining onto the ground like little shooting stars. I didn’t want to hear the guy screaming out his children’s’ names through my radio seconds before the entire suit blew up beside me hard enough to rock Deathscythe where it stood.

And I wanted to stop screaming.

Come on, now,
I hear you're feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain
Get you on your feet again.

You know, even with Heero in the room, I still feel alone. I kind of envy him sometimes, so cold and detached. It doesn’t bother him to go and kill people; he just does it with this supreme smoothness that seems inhuman.

But, damnit all! I had to be cursed with feelings and emotions! I laid on my bed, a dog-eared manga lying beside me. The constant, annoying whir of the laptop filled the room, along with our quiet breathing. His fingers clicked across the keys like tap dancers, keeping time with some unusual rhythm. His back never moved, his face never changed. It made me mad.

How come I had to feel? Why couldn’t someone have erased my emotions like they did him? I was sick of thinking of that guy and his stupid family! I just wanted to shut it all out and crawl into some dark hole where a soldier screaming for mercy was considered weak and punishable by death.

I know, I know. How stupid of the God of Death to be talking like that. Well, just because I am, doesn’t mean I don’t feel, too! I leave death in my wake, no matter where I go. Do you actually think I enjoy that? I mean, sure I get a cool name like Shinigami, but damn! This was getting to be a bit much.

I stretched across my wrinkled sheets, yawning. I needed something to do, to drive that begging voice and those kids’ names from my head or I was going to go crazy! And, of course, the only person around was the most boring, unsociable person alive. Don’t I have the best luck?

I didn’t even try to talk to him. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I could handle the let down if he yelled at me. I went through enough abuse today; I didn’t need anymore from him. I hopped to my feet and walked to the closet, grabbing a jacket from the black depths. I threw it on and headed towards the door.

“Where are you going?” a nasal voice asked. I turned towards Heero, noting his eyes never left the computer screen and his fingers continued to dance away.

“Out, Dad,” I said, opening the door. “I promise I won’t be out past curfew and I’ll have the car in one piece when I get home.” Before he could throw me a death threat, I dashed out the door.

Relax.
I'll need some information first.
Just the basic facts.
Can you show me where it hurts?

When I got home three hours and eight beers later, I was met with an empty apartment. I looked around for a note, some sign that the Perfect Soldier had actually cared enough about me that I might worry. Of course I was wrong.

I plopped down on my bed, sighing. The city was strangely quiet and even the booze hadn’t knocked the voices from my head. If it was possible, they were louder, and screaming now. Can someone hand me a muzzle, please?

I looked to my dresser and staggered to my feet, the bed creaking in the wake of me. Shuffling, I made my way across my room, grabbing the cool dark wood of my dresser to steady my drunken self. I yanked open the top drawer, which almost sent me sprawling across the floor, and began pulling out white candles. I lost count after four, but I think that was my friend, alcohol, talking.

I set them up on the floor, the nightstand, the desk, the chair, and any other place that would hold them. It was quite a job, let me tell you, but when I was done and had them all lit, it had the coolest effect. Shadows shifted and changed across our bare white walls, moving with the grace of that stuff inside a lava lamp, almost like a dance. The flames themselves flickered and leapt, jumping off the wicks at times only to fall back on again. White wax pooled like syrup at the base of each one, thick and hardening almost immediately.

I took a seat in the middle of them, and for a quick second it reminded me of some old show with witches and magic. You know, like disappearing, levitating, curses magic. I peeled off my shirt and tossed it to the side, not caring that it bowled over two candles with it’s decent. It probably had burn holes in it now. Oh well.

I picked up the knife that sat religiously in my pocket, flipping it open. The candlelight caught it and danced with it, doing merry little pirouettes in its metal. I sighed again, my chest suddenly contracting.

“Please, God, I have a wife and three kids!”

“Mommy! Daddy! Where are you? Why did you go away?”

“Solo! You can’t leave me now! What am I gonna to do without you? Damnit! You can’t die!”

Those voices, those faces. I hated them all. No, that’s not right. I hated me. I was their downfall. People suffered because of me. People died because of me. Damnit, I didn’t want to be Death anymore! I couldn’t stand that emptiness that had come into my life any longer!

Distantly, I felt the knife bite into my wrist and begin a deep, downward decent. Strange, but it didn’t hurt. I leaned my head back, my eyes closing as a hiss escaped my mouth. Blood, warm and reminding me that I was human after all, bubbled up over my wound and instantly began cascading down my wrist and fingers like a waterfall.

So, Death was going to kill Death. Fitting way to go, I guess. No one else could do such a perfect job.

There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.

I lifted my head up and it sort of just fell forward, like my neck was broken. I cracked open my eyes and almost shut them again against all the light from the candles. Blood so dark it seemed black, continued to pour down my arm in rivers, covering the white carpet and me. Damn, Heero’s going to be pissed about the mess I’m leaving him. What the hell! Here I am, dying, and I’m worried about what Heero’s going to think? Maybe I lost more blood than I thought.

I sighed. It was so hard to breathe now. I rolled my head to my shoulder, laying it against it. A picture sat on the nightstand and my eyes were drawn to it like a thirsty man to water. I was smiling in it, one of those true, heartfelt open smiles that were so big that even my eyes were lit up. And next to me was Heero, somber and robotic like usual, with that little angel Quatre on the other side of me. Trowa stood behind him, arms crossed, face almost as serious as Heero’s (notice I said ‘almost’) and Wu-man next to him, a quirk of a smile on his lips. I remembered that day, nothing important really. It was just one of those rare occasions where we got to act like normal kids without the weight of an entire fucking war on our backs. Imagine that, teenagers being teenagers! Who would’ve thought?

My best friends. My only friends. I loved them. That’s why I was doing this. I couldn’t let them end up like everyone else in my life. Not them, damnit! Never them.

The knife that was still clutched in my hand tumbled out, clattering softly onto the floor. My head fell back, a moan dashing out of my numb lips before I could catch it and strangle it. My eyes closed and my chest felt so hard to move.

Somewhere, in the background, I heard a door open and some nasally voice call out my name. Or at least I think it was my name; I couldn’t really tell. I guess it really didn’t matter now, did it?

Everything faded away, like when you turn the television off and it disappears into that black hole. That’s what happened to me. I was just fading away into that black dot, never to be heard from again.

When I was a child I had a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I've got that feeling once again
I can't explain you would not understand

You know, I expected a lot of things when I finally kicked the bucket, but this was not one of them.

I was back on the streets, small, little, cute me, just like when I was a kid. The alleys were dark and smelled rotten, like usual, but I wasn’t afraid. I looked down at my hands; they were so small, so clean. Nope, no blood of soldiers and countless other people on these little palms, no sir. My legs were short, I could feel it, and my clothes hung off me like a starving man. My hair fell into my face and tickled my nose, totally and strangely unbound.

I felt a warm, familiar hand fall onto my shoulder and I found myself staring up into Solo’s confident eyes. I smiled, feeling safer than I ever had. Solo was here; everything would be all right, now and forever.

So, if that’s the case, why was he crumpled up against a wall now? Blood, so red it looked like fire, dribbled down his chin as another coughing episode wracked his body. I kept pushing a vial of clear liquid toward him but he shoved it back. I could feel the burning tears in my eyes and wanted to hide them, but I was afraid that if I looked away from my best friend for a moment, he would be gone.

“Take it, Solo!” I pleaded.

“I’m too far gone,” he hissed, voice soft and raspy. I had to strain just to hear him over my own pathetic sobs. “Give it to the other kids who need it.”

“No!” I screamed, throwing myself against his body. “Don’t leave me, Solo! I can’t go on without you!”

He was still beneath me, his body suddenly cold. I knew there was more of a conversation that had really taken place, but it had been conveniently deleted this time around. Oh, well, I wasn’t about to complain. I hated goodbyes anyway. Always so final.

This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.

Staring down into Solo’s dead eyes filled me with a certain calm that I can never describe. People didn’t make words to talk about things like this. It was this sort of eerie feeling, as if I had finally returned home, with Death. This was my beginning, I guess. Cute little me on my decent into Hell. Aw, how adorable.

I should have died right then you know. I should’ve just taken my life or died living on the streets. I wonder how many people would be alive now if I had. I wonder how many less filled graves would there be if I had just stopped existing at that point.

I felt an icy hand make its way around my heart and squeeze it, forcing a sob out of me that I never knew I had been holding. My whole body began shaking like a drug addict as I clutched helplessly at the corpse beneath me. Corpse, less attachment, easier release. Corpses don’t have names. Corpses don’t have feelings or personalities. They were just waste. Yep, one of the first things I was ever taught. Got to love my education, right?

But, as strange as it sounds, I was at home. This body beneath me, regardless of the fact it was the cadaver of my best friend, was part of my comfort zone, just like the scurrying rats behind the dumpsters and the silence of the alley, even though tons of people walked the streets not twenty feet away. Yes, this was my home, among the dead, forever and ‘til I died.

At a loss at anything better to do, I closed my eyes and-

O.K.
Just a little pinprick.
There'll be no more aaaaaaaaah!
But you may feel a little sick.

I opened them again, this time, seeing all white. And I’m not talking just normal white, but blinding, like when the sun reflects off the snow. Fluorescent lights were relentless up above my head, and the floor and walls had this padded feel to them, like I was caught up in a mental institution. I sat in a high backed chair, one that looked almost identical to the set that went with my kitchen table. In the middle of one wall was a mirror, but I’m not dumb. I knew it was one of those one-way window things.

Hm. Guess I didn’t die after all. Caught me and locked me up. How fortunate for me. Yeah, right.

I hopped to my feet, my head still a little fuzzy. After I stumbled a few steps, I strut the rest of the way to the mirror and began pounding on it.

“Hey! Someone mind telling me what’s going on?” I yelled, not really expecting a response. This place was really quiet though, and in all honesty, it was kind of scaring me. “Man, do you know how rude you’re being? Remind me to take you guys off my Christmas card list for next year!” Humor. Always the way to go.

A door, like the ones at the mall where they just automatically slide, zipped open and a young guy with brown hair walked in. In one hand he carried a chart, obviously a medical one, and obviously of me. In his other hand, he held a syringe, and not very friendly looking one at that. He turned his eyes to me, to the chart, then back to me.

“Mr. Maxwell, correct?” he said. He had a voice sort of like Heero’s; routine, automatic, almost bored.

“Maybe,” I replied. “Depends on who’s asking.”

“My name is Doctor Zelman,” he answered, setting the chart down on my discarded chair. I caught a glimpse of it, but damn, it’s true that all doctor’s handwriting is illegible. “Do you know why you’re here?”

I looked down at my wrist, noting the bloodstained white gauze that was wrapped around it. Oh, yeah. That. “I have a fairly good idea,” I said.

“Good,” he muttered, taking the protective orange cap off the needle. He tapped it, eyes glued onto it, then swung over to me. “We’re going to fix you right up, Mr. Maxwell. Just come here.”

I backed away, swinging my head. “No way!” I yelled. “I’m not about to become your pincushion!”

He raised one dark eyebrow, regarding me almost amusingly. “First off, Mr. Maxwell, you really don’t have a choice in the matter. This has already been decided for you. And second of all, don’t you want all that pain to go away?”

“Pain?” I asked weakly. Oh, he had hit a button all right.

“I’m not talking about physical pain, Mr. Maxwell, but that emotional agony you get when you see how many people die by your hands,” he continued, eyes sparkling in the overhead lights. They had this icy cobalt color to them, so much like Heero’s. “It’s not easy being a soldier, is it? It’s even worse being a Gundam pilot.”

“How-?”

“I know many things, Mr. Maxwell,” he said, walking towards me once again with the syringe. “I know why you tried to commit suicide. I know what you feel. I know how you think. But this-” he tapped the needle “-can make it all go away.

“It blocks out all the pain you feel,” he explained. “You will experience no remorse. You will accept your duties in life and live by them, not regretting what you do. You will be able to assume the title of ‘Shinigami’ and take it to its highest level. No pain ever again, Mr. Maxwell. You will never hurt again.”

Tempting, isn’t it? I wanted to impale myself on that needle right away, but contrary to popular belief, I actually think things through. Sometimes.

“But tons of people are still going to die because of me,” I muttered.

“You will only be doing your job,” he replied, flicking the needle once more. “You have a purpose. Not all of us are as lucky as you.”

“Lucky?” I screamed, clenching my fists. “I hardly think being the God of Death is lucky!”

“You have a direction in life,” said the doctor, taking a step forward. “Something to strive for. Some reason to exist. Perhaps in your eyes it may not be the most joyous thing in the world-”

“You can say that again,” I snorted.

“- but it’s a reason, damnit. You are a soldier, Mr. Maxwell. That was why you were created. Your purpose is to fight for what you believe in and to follow your emotions.”

I squinted my eyes, looking at the man in front of me. Shit, did I say man? I meant, boy. He was just a boy, no older than I was, dressed up in a long white lab coat that seemed three sizes too big. He swam in the damn thing like it was the freaking Atlantic Ocean. His hair was that dark tousled brown color, like he just walked in from a hurricane, and his eyes were flat and azure. How could I have missed it? What the hell is wrong with me?

“Heero?” I hissed.

“Mr. Maxwell,” the doctor said, ignoring my word. “We really don’t have time for trivial episodes like these. As I said before, you do not have a choice in the matter. It has all been decided for you.”

“By who?” I asked, my heart beating faster in my chest. I felt a warm tingling sensation along my left wrist, already knowing that I had broken whatever stitches had been sewn in there by clenching my fists so hard. I’m an idiot, I know.

“Does it really matter?” he inquired in return. His face never changed from that cold, distant, mechanical expression. I wanted to run up and punch him, just to make him move one goddamn muscle there! “You will become what you have to to survive.”

I didn’t want this! I didn’t my humanity covered up like some convenient murder, damnit! My feelings were the only thing that kept me real, made me remember that I was still human. I felt a small river of blood slide down my hand as I took a step back; it poured onto the white floor and stained it, tainting the pureness with my life. This dark spot, my soul, that was about to be wiped out forever.

I wasn’t even given a chance to blink before Heero the Psycho Doctor had thrown me on to my back was on top of me. His eyes never changed as he tried to drive that intimidating needle into my poor little body, but I grabbed his wrists in a vain attempt to stop him. Just as I was about to kick him off me, he punched me with one hand, knocking my head to the side, dazing me, and loosening my grip around his wrists. With a rough yank, he pulled my arm out, found my vein, and thrust that hypodermic needle in with all the mercy of a pissed off wolverine.

I screamed. What else could I do? My eyes were huge, I could feel the strain on them, and my heart beat so hard that I thought it was going to fly out of my chest and across the room. Tears, burning and hot, squeezed out of my eyes and trickled down my cheeks, totally unnoticed as I continued to scream. Heero stared down at me, his face that somber look still. I wanted to kill him, and who knows, maybe with my humanity gone, I would.

Can you stand up?
I do believe it's working, good.
That'll keep you going through the show
Come on its time to go.

“Damnit, Heero!” I yelled, punching him off me. He rolled to the side, rubbing the side of his face as he stood up. His eyes were flat and cold, like usual, as he clinically regarded me. He walked to the lonely chair and my medical chart, picked it up, and quickly began scribbling on it.

I climbed to my feet, shaking like a damn leaf. My blood pounded in my ears so loud that it was all I could hear. That damn bastard didn’t even spare me a glance as he obliviously went about scribbling all over the chart. Baring my teeth, I leaped at him.

Halfway to him, I stopped and fell to my knees, clutching my stomach. It was like I had just eaten a pound of rusty, sharp razor blades and they were all doing jumping-jacks inside my gut. I screamed again, tears rolling out of the corners of my eyes. My head felt too large for my body, as if it was swelling and going to explode. My skin tingled, sending shivers up my spine so cold that it felt like the middle of winter. I lifted my head and through my bangs, glared at him for a moment, before falling onto my face.

I couldn’t move; I couldn’t feel. I didn’t know what to think anymore. Heero had betrayed me; someone had demanded that all my emotions be erased, or at least all my regret and conscience. I didn’t know what I was going to become, and it scared the living shit out of me.

I heard two other people enter the room; that door made a rather loud zipping sound, you know. I recognized one voice, but I couldn’t remember who it belonged to. Not saying I’m popular or anything (okay, well maybe I am), but I’ve met a lot of people in my life and it’s hard to remember what every single person sounds like. Sorry.

I could just barely hear their mumbling, but I don’t think they cared if I did. Sweat had begun to cover my face and made my skin stick to the cushioned floor like it was a leather seat in the middle of summer.

“Do you really think this was necessary, Dr. G?”

Oh, so it was that bastard’s fault all this was happening. Typical.

“Yes. We can’t go replacing him at this stage in the battle. It would be too much effort and his skills are superb right now.”

What can I say? I’m awesome, I know.

“Is he going to be all right?”

“Oh, yes. He just will be more aggressive and less, um, remorseful. All his other emotions will be completely intact, just as normal. We can’t have him trying to kill himself again. I really don’t want the burden of replacing him on my shoulders.”

“Why is this boy here?”

“Heero? He seemed rather eager to help us patch up his friend. Strangely enough, he seemed genuinely concerned, surprising considering what Dr. J did to the kid.”

Aw, so Heero was worried. I guess I couldn’t be too mad it him. Yeah right! Just wait ‘til I’m better, and boy, are you going to regret messing with me!

“Heero, pick up Duo and follow me. We need to get him to a room.”

I could hear my best friend and betrayer walking to me, and suddenly saw his boots next to my head. As stupid as it sounds, I just wanted to reach over and bite his foot, since it was the closest thing to me. His arms snaked under my body and hefted me upward, holding me close to his chest. I looked up into his face, a snarl on my lips.

“Omae o korosu,” I growled. Yeah, I know. I’m a copycat, so sue me! I don’t see that phrase copyrighted anywhere, so there!

He humored me with a small glance downward and I swear I saw some slight degree of regret in his eyes. I didn’t care. He wasn’t the one who had been changed, altered forever, for only being human. What did he know about feelings? What did he know about anything?

I heard another zipping noise and we walked into some plain, boring room. With a surprising gentleness, Heero set me down on a comfortable bed. The others left and he took a seat beside me. I could feel his eyes bore into me and I wanted to reach up and rip them out.

Taking in the fact that I was too weak to even move, I just closed my eyes and allowed myself to slip away on a black tide.

There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.

So, I was small again, just an innocent child with a soldier’s mind as I stared through flying clouds of dust. In the distance like a mirage was what was left of the church, once my home, my only home. Stubborn parts, mostly steel support beams, still stood, casting black shadows that stretched across the ground and stopped inches before my little feet. They made crosses, betraying symbols of a hopeless faith.

Death hung like the suffocating dust in the air, the sour smell almost choking me where I stood. I stumbled to the wreckage, hopping over broken bricks, shattered stained glass, splintered wood from destroyed pews. A bible was lying atop some rubble, covered in dirt, half burned apart. Flower petals rested atop a ruined pew, half of them black, half of them covered in thick layers of blood. I tripped on a piece of concrete and went sprawling, skinning the palms of my hands and my knees, lighting them on fire. I bit my lower lip to fight against the cry that threatened to leap out of my mouth. After a moment, I climbed to my feet and began making my way through the pile once more.

After what seemed like forever, I fell to my knees at my final destination. I could feel the blood as it seeped down my almost skinless knees, running in thick rivers of molasses. With oddly steady and small hands, I reached over and grabbed a woman’s head that laid several feet ahead of me and pulled it and the rest of her into my lap. Sunlight just barely broke through the dust and struck a red piece of shattered stained glass, painting my hands a bloody scarlet. I brush away a few strands of loose hair that had escaped the familiar black habit, the skin so cold beneath my fingertips it felt as though she had been encased in eight tons of ice. I sniffled, but that’s as close as I could get to crying. I’m stubborn, always have been.

I turned my face up to the sky, eyes closed like in a melodramatic, cheesy movie, but I didn’t care. My fingers played across Sister Helen’s face like a blind man, searching every crevice in her smooth skin. Blood, tacky with time, made streaks under my fingers and it burned my skin. I wanted to scream, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out.

I opened my eyes again, and the body was gone. I wasn’t a child anymore, but I still sat in the ruins of the church, blood cascading down my shredded knees and staining my fingertips. Heero stood in front of me, his hand held out, the dispassionate and flat eyes staring at me.

“Don’t you want to be like me?” he asked. “Missions are the priority. Emotions are a weakness. Don’t you want to get rid of that trivial liability?”

I didn’t want to look at him, damnit, but my body refused to listen. Shit, even in the end, I betrayed myself.

“Leave me alone,” I hissed, using up the last of my strength.

“Don’t you want to dispose of that pain?” he questioned like a cheap politician selling encyclopedias on a Sunday morning. “Don’t you want to feel nothing?”

I stared at him, my eyes in slits. “I don’t want to be like you,” I growled. “I actually like being human.”

When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye.

You know, if it had been in any other situation, I probably would’ve burst out laughing at Heero’s shocked, then confused look that covered his face like a broken mask. I probably would’ve been laughing so hard I would’ve been crying, rolling into a little fetal ball ‘til Wufei knocked me upside my head.

Instead, I just held those cloudy blue eyes with my own, glaring all the way.

His face quickly reset itself back to its usual “death-can’t even-frighten-me-because-I’m-the-perfect-soldier” look. He took his hand back, laying it at his side.

“What does humanity have to do with regret?” he asked.

“Are you really that stupid?” I questioned back, climbing to my feet. “I would be a robot if I just went around killing everything that crossed my path if I didn’t feel some sort of remorse. It’s that guilt and that conscience that keeps my ass in line so I don’t go off the deep end!”

He raised one dark eyebrow. “And you slitting your wrists wasn’t going off the deep end’?”

I turned away, my eyes focusing on the nearby, barely recognizable bible, the last symbol of anything meaningful, anything hopeful in this shitty world. “I did it because I needed to make sure I wasn’t already dead.”

“Dead?” he replied, that damn confused eyebrow still quirked.

“I’m not talking physically dead,” I answered, my eyes never leaving those burnt pages. “I wasn’t sure I could feel anymore, and if that’s true, then I’m already dead, aren’t I?”

“Not if your body is still working and if-”

“Damnit, Heero!” I screamed, whirling on him. “Things are more complicated than that! I didn’t want to be a robot! I didn’t want to be some fucking hollow shell! I wanted to bleed! I wanted to give to myself what I have ever given every other fucking person I have ever met!”

His eyes roamed the skeletal ruins of the church, calculating and cold like usual. Light struck a nearby piece of green glass and reflected the patch onto his smooth cheek. “What is this place, Duo?” he asked.

“This was my home,” I answered, reaching over and picking up a crumpled flower, watching as the petals fell from the stalk and fluttered to the ground in slow motion. “This is the Maxwell church, just one of the many places I helped destroy.”

“You still hurt from it,” he calmly replied, turning his eyes back to me. “Why don’t you release yourself from your pointless torture?”
“You’re so dense, Heero,” I muttered, dropping the stem onto the crimson stained stones below. I hung my head for a moment, like I was praying. “I carry this sort of pain so I never forget them. Once I forget them, then how would I ever know they even existed? I’d do the worse thing I ever could to their memory, forget them and what they stood for. I remind myself what happened and carry that sort of burden because it’s the only way I can ever hope to atone for my sins.”

I spied him through my bangs for a minute, swearing I could see him make the slightest nod, like he was approving my methods. “I see,” he murmured.

“Heero,” I said, raising my head. “My emotions aren’t my weakness. They are my strength and my own fucking curse that I wear with a mixture of pride and remorse. I don’t act like the fool just to throw everyone off. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking if you ever want to know. I act the way I do so that I can someday hope to lay to rest every single person I have ever hurt in my life.”

Again, that slight nod. Out of the corner of my eye, to the left of me, I swear I could see a familiar young boy that I once looked up to and loved with all my childish heart, a young nun who once braided my long hair, and a priest who had taken in this street rat of a child, all smiling and waving at me.

I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown,
The dream is gone.

I sat up, covered in sweat, the blankets that had been piled on top of me falling away. I blinked, and even in the darkness, I could tell I was back in my room by the numerous posters I had, um, borrowed from various stores and now littered my walls. I peeked underneath my blankets, noting that I at least had my black boxers on. From the other room, I could hear Heero tapping away at his one and only beloved laptop.

I pulled my bangs out of my eyes, the ends damp with my salty sweat. I sighed, wanting nothing more than to take the hottest shower humanly possible, but climbed out of my bed and stumbled my way into Heero’s room.

He didn’t stop typing as I came in, just as I suspected, but he did acknowledge my presence by nodding his head. How kind of him to spare me such a gesture! (In case you can’t tell, yes that is sarcasm in my voice!) I stomped up to his chair, grabbed the back, and whirled it around, ripping his fingers from the keyboard. He gave me one even, closed look, and I punched him, sending him flying out of his seat. Before he could even say anything, I turned and exited the room, retreating to the shower.

Under the ruthless hot streams of overhead water, I couldn’t help but think of everything that had happened. I had to take off the bandages over my wrists and cover them saran wrap and tape so I wouldn’t get the fifteen stitches wet. The cut was jagged and rough, glaring at me with accusing hatred. I hung my head, hair slipping over my shoulders and into my face. Water ran in streams across my cheeks and I began to wonder where my tears began and the shower ended. I curled up into a small ball, shuddering as the scalding water began to lose its intensity and turned frigid, but still pounding down on me with fury. Goosebumps erupted over my skin and a small sob found its way out of my mouth.

I was feeling! I had emotions! I could feel them! So, didn’t the shot work?

After forty-five minutes in the bathroom, I finally emerged wearing only a white towel around my waist and running a comb through my tangled hair. I couldn’t remember the last time I had this many knots in it. Wait! There was that night me and the guys had gone out and gotten drunk and I can’t remember most of that night except waking up naked in the bathtub, a lampshade on my head, and my hair in complete snarls! Damn, do I babble about shit or what?

Anyway, I sat down on my bed, feeling the cool golden chain and cross over my naked flesh, wondering what happened from here. I’ll admit, I was still scared. Did my humanity just dwindle away until there was nothing left or would it be sudden? Would I even remember what I had been like?

I hung my head again, sighing as I fought an immovable tangle. I growled, closing my eyes as I ripped the comb through my hair. Suddenly, I stopped and just sat there, my bangs covering my face.

“We have a mission tomorrow.”

“Fine,” I growled.

“Are you going to be able to function properly on it?” Heero asked coldly.

“What the hell do you care?” I hissed back, tightening my grip on the plastic comb. The teeth bit into my palm, but I didn’t care.

“Duo-”

“Just shut up!” I screamed, the comb breaking in my hand. “Just shut the hell up and leave me alone! Haven’t you fucked with me enough already?”

He was surprisingly silent for a minute, then stated, “Be ready to leave at o-five hundred hours.” I heard him turn around and walk out.

I sat still for a moment, my chest a conflict of every emotion possible. The urge to kill him was still there, but not as strong. Heero was a messed up kinda guy, and it was most likely that he thought he was helping by doing what he did. Not that I forgave him or anything! It would be many days of polishing Deathscythe head to toe and buying me a ton of ice cream before I would ever do that, damnit! Not to mention all the begging he would have to do, too. Lots of begging!

I walked to the mirror, staring at myself. I wasn’t that little kid anymore. My face was still adorable and my body was lean and short, but I wasn’t a kid. My eyes were too hard and had seen too much and my hands were too stained with blood to ever be innocent again. It hurt too much to look at myself sometimes, and unfortunately, this was one of them.

So, was I dead? Was I doomed to be the robot so many other soldiers had become? Had I traded my humanity for a gun and some ammo? Did I give my soul away for my Gundam and a cage?

I have become comfortably numb.

I sat in Deathscythe, absolutely uncomfortable and nervous, watching the blurring neon green of my scythe go flying in front of me. It was metal I was destroying again, just unfeeling, soulless machines that got destroyed faster than they could make them. One exploded to the left of me, sending me forward a minute, only to swing around and catch two more mobile suits with my blade.

I could hear their screams; they bounced off my deaf ears. Frantic, panicked yells rang out; “It’s a mobile suit! It’s a Gundam!” Do you know how many times I’ve heard them say that? You think they could come up with better lines after about the hundredth time.

I tried not to think about their frightened faces as they sat in their cockpits, as they saw my scythe going flying at them. I tried not to think about the family they were leaving behind and the children that would grow up without fathers. I tried not to think of myself and how hard life had been for me growing up alone. I couldn’t even yell in my usual annoying, taunting sort of way. God, I felt like shit.

I jerked to the left, dodging the discharge of a gun, and barreled through a Leo. I grunted on impact, getting thrown back against my seat and banging my head off the console. For a minute, I just saw black stars that burst across my vision and enveloped everything. I quickly shook my head, and glared through my bangs and the thin trickle of blood that was currently marching down my forehead and into my eyes.

“Oh, you did it now!” I screamed. “You messed with the wrong God of Death today, pal!”

I felt hollow and empty as the glowing thermal blade sliced through the metal like a hot knife through snow. It exploded into a fireball of red and orange intense heat, the soldier’s screams following him into Hell. I wanted to fight against the absolute nothingness that had taken residence in my soul during this fight, but how do you fight against nothing?

Heero’s face appeared on a small screen to the right of me, his face emotionless as he moved and pressed several buttons. “You have three Leo’s heading towards your area. We are going to depart in ten minutes. I am almost finished destroying their shipment of Aries. Understand?”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n!” I replied, saluting him.

He muttered some death threat, then disappeared. I could see the Leo’s marching closer, and flew in for the kill, literally. I met them head on, heard their screams, bathed in the heat of their deaths. If I ever had any doubt about being Shinigami, it was gone now, let me tell you.

And then I looked down and saw my hands, watching in amazement as they trembled while clenching my controls. My knuckles were whiter than bones, as if my skin had totally dissolved away into nothing. My whole body began to shake, as if the trembling was contagious, and I began to sweat. I heard someone plead for mercy as my scythe tore their mobile suit in half.

I screamed at my hands to stop as a nearby OZ woman died in a mobile suit explosion. I cried as I accidentally trampled some injured soldier with my Gundam. I turned away as I made yet another fatherless family appear.

But I felt! Goddamn, the pain was bittersweet but loved! These people would live on in my memory and in one day I could hope to atone for my sins. I don’t know what made our case bigger than these people’s lives, but I wouldn’t let them to go to waste, damnit! Never! I would carry that weight with me until the day I finally kicked the bucket, but I would do it. For them.

But why hadn’t it worked? Why hadn’t that damn syringe “cured” me of my weakness?

I thought about this, among countless other things that included what I was going to beg Quatre to make me for dinner with my best puppy eyes, on the flight home.

I closed my eyes, resting against my cushioned, leather seat (only the best for us Gundam pilots), almost drifting to sleep (thank God for autopilot!). Deathscythe was comfortable again, much to my relief. This was perfect, and even as I drifted away, that question of why still first and persistent on my mind.

And I suddenly saw Solo, the only thing in the blackness, looking at me with his emerald eyes that sparkled with confidence and more life than anyone I had ever known. He ruffled my hair, smiling largely, then drug me into a tight hug.

“Don’t you get it, Duo?” he whispered. “There’s a part of you that no one will ever be able to touch, ‘specially since you’re so damn stubborn and strong!”

“A part of me?” I asked, feeling somewhat divided between the little kid I was with him and the Gundam pilot I had become.

“Your soul, idiot,” he joked, bopping me on the head, then ruffling it again. “Your conscience is part of your soul and no one can ever take that away from you, no matter what they think. No stupid drugs or fucking treatments can ever change that, Duo. And you have one of the strongest souls I have ever seen.”

Another voice made me swivel my head, and I found myself staring into a pair of soft hazel eyes and Sister Helen’s gentle face. “You honor us all by thinking of us everyday, Duo,” she said, smiling. Solo’s hand slipped to my shoulder, clutching it warmly in a tight grip. “We love you, Duo.”

“Always have,” Solo chimed in. “Always will.”

I turned again, my eyes falling onto a familiar stoic form. “Duo,” Heero hissed, his voice cool yet laden with something I couldn’t put my finger on. “You do what you do because it’s right. We fight for the good of the colonies and to achieve a much needed peace. People will die for whatever conviction they deem necessary, and this conviction, this duty is ours, just as OZ’s ideas are what they are willing to throw away their lives for. We will do what we have to for our cause, Duo, because it is what is right. It is our duty to fight for those who can’t defend themselves against the harsh rule of their oppressors.”

“I’m tired of the killing,” I whispered, hanging my head.

Heero’s hand fell onto my other shoulder and I looked up into those eyes, noting for the first time the battle that raged behind his carefully placed walls. “We do what we have to do,” he said. “I don’t want to make us sound like hero’s; we’re not. We are soldiers with enough strength to fight for what we think is right. Our battles often lead away from the field though, and we carry them home with us, leaving scars that never fade.” He looked down to his free hand, a flicker of pain riding across his face for just a second, but I caught it. Damn, I’m good. “I think we are all tired of killing. The blood burns.”

I nodded. “They always say blood gets cold after death,” I replied, my voice rough. “But it burns my hands, too, Heero.”

I felt more hands patting my back, encouraging. I heard Trowa whisper, “Your soul is your most important thing in life, Duo, because it is the only thing that is truly yours.” Murmuring, Wufei said, “You prove your strength by carrying the weight of your anguish with you always.” And finally Quatre chimed in with, “We may not be able to make your hands clean again, Duo, but we want to ease the burden off your shoulders.”

My eyes began to water, and I felt my body shake again. “You guys,” I hissed. “I don’t know what to say. Damnit, I’m speechless!”

“About time that happened,” Solo commented.

I turned my face upward as the blackness broke with the sound of a wall coming down, the bricks toppling down atop one another in a loud, dusty noise. Sunlight, more pure than anything ever known, gathered me in its gentle, warm embrace, and tears marched their way down my heated cheeks. I held my hands up to the sky, feeling everyone’s comforting hands on me, and I loved it.

Yeah, I loved it! My soul, it was mine, damnit! No one could ever take that part of me away, not Dr. G, not Heero, not the war, nothing! I was human. I was alive. I was me!

I would wage war for as long as it took to achieve peace for us, for the colonies, and I would do so with the thoughts of every single person who ever died in my heart. On Deathscythe, I swear!

The End