08-Nov-2000

Posted: 11/7/00
Title: The Ballad of Maxwell Demon
Author: Jay / neophyte@snet.net
Archive: All those with prior permission are welcome (and hugged profusely) to archive this. Email me at the the address at the bottom of this page if you'd like to ask. :-)
[Note: all fics accessible @ http://www.oocities.org/fenris_wolf0]
Category: Songfic
Timeline: Episode Zero (AC 187-188)
Pairings: None
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is quite sadly not mine, but in fact the property of Bandai, Sunrise, and other large corporations and companies I have no affiliation with. (Again, quite sadly.) The song, 'The Ballad of Maxwell Demon' is from the Velvet Goldmine soundtrack and is by Shudder to Think and is used without permission.
Warning/Rating: PG-13, only because it's mildly twisted. Also, Ep. Zero spoilers.
Feedback: Hit me!
Note: I was supposed to be writing 'Pomegranates' but I was musing and I remembered this song from one of my favorite movies, 'The Velvet Goldmine.' Now, the last time I saw it was last year and well before I was watching Gundam Wing (or at least, before I was really into it) so that's why it's only know that I chanced upon the song title and the proverbial light bulb clicked on. The actual plot of sorts has been done tons of times, but-- this song!! It BECKONED! So, I sat down and I used the teaser from 'Maxwell's Touch' (which means of course, that story has been scrapped and recycled for this: Tyr, feel free to delete it) and wrote this. I did skew some facts, which will be obvious in the story, but they're for a reason, which you will also see. Also, having only read the Episode Zero translations, I wouldn't know how old Sister Helen was, so I just let the lyrics decide for me. Enjoy!
[... ...] = lyrics
/... .../ = thoughts (A lot of 'em are from Duo's Episode Zero)

And a big ol' hug to Diane, Duo's favorite beta-reader!

People: Yay! Cheer! It's about time!

O_o;; Ehehe. Enjoy.

The Ballad of Maxwell Demon by Jay

[...Got tired of wastin' gas / Living above the planets / Mister, show me the way to Earth...]

He was tired.

Tired of living alone in the vastness of nothing-- just a scrap of black, twisted reality. His violet eyes flashed angrily, before dimming into luminescent pools of amethyst, glowing dully in the faux-light. Black roses bloomed around him, decorating thorned hedges; they smelled like death and decay-- sickly, cloying against his nostrils. One hand wrapped its fingers around a length of chestnut braid, the other rested languidly on the scythe in his lap, designed to cut through countless lifethreads, to slice the fibers of reality.

One delicate hand lifted from the scythe to touch his lips and then to hesitatingly brush the petals of a black rose in full bloom. As his milky fingers brushed the petals, the flower withered and died, crumbling to dust and ash.

Shinigami sighed.

He was tired.

[...The boys of Quadrant 44 / With their vicious metal hounds / Never come round here no more...]

A little figure leaned out of the low window, small hands grasping the ledge as startling blue eyes stared out at the wreckage of the streets. Duo shivered suddenly, withdrawing from the night air and straightening the starched collar around his neck, fingers absentmindedly stroking the fine chain from which a small cross hung, dangling between his shirt and his skin.

His eyes shifted back and forth, gravely taking in the scene before him from the safety of Maxwell Church. Every few minutes there would be another sharp spray of bullets and the sound of glass shattering under the persistent onslaught of hard metal. Alarms would ring and falter and street gangs would run, their boots clattering against the uneven pavement, until Quadrant 44 of L2 would lapse into a knowing silence. The lack of noise never signified peace-- it was the tense brink of violence and death that hung expectantly in the air.

Now, the streets were silent. Navy eyes watched the crumbling alleyways with uncharacteristic gravity, plump face starkly pale. Duo's hands left the cross and he once again leaned out of the window, nocturnal zephyrs sweeping the tangle of his hair back like the cold breath of...

Shinigami.

The name was like a caress across his mind, all sleek and dark grace.

Shinigami, who came for all men, scythe in one ashen hand, who carved soul from body and watched as lifethreads dissipated into the air.

Duo's eyes strained, catching wisps of white that seemed to twist and disappear, flickering ghostl-like on the otherwise dark and hushed streets.

[...Sometimes I wonder if I'm still alive / I'm six feet down at age 25 / Maxwell's led the demon rock hand jive...]

Sister Helen sat before a cracked and stained vanity mirror, a mildly peevish expression crossing her smooth features. A mirror was a luxury a nun wasn't expected to indulge, but there it was, swiveling on the vanity itself. The battered piece of furniture's paint was chipping, its floral designs fading fast, as it lay askew on one broken leg.

She gazed at her hands-- seeing milky skin, but rough palms and calloused fingers-- and sighed. Helen looked into the mirror once more, pausing this time to take in the unfamiliar features of her own face-- the sharp eyes, the soft mouth, the weary lines that seemed to her infinitely older than the mere twenty five years she had breathed and moved, restless.

/I think the only God in this world is Shinigami./

She thought of Duo and shivered, hands moving unconsciously to cross herself. Her eyes saddened; the boy could not be older than seven or eight and yet his faith was held in a phantom grim reaper that lived in a garden of black roses in the vacuum of eternity. Her lips curved cynically. Or so the legends said, she added, silently.

Still, her mind rested on the name that seemed to burn with a white heat on her tongue.

Lighting a single candle, she knelt on the cold floorboards, closing her eyes and clasping her hands.

"O God, our Creator, all life is in your hands from conception until death." Her voice was serene, all quiet dignity and calm, rising and falling in prayer. "Enlighten and be merciful toward those who fail to love, and give them peace.^[1]"

Her voice continued to whisper as the candle flickered, its feeble flame eventually drowned by a sudden draft.

[...I came down like water / For the age of solar love / And hail to the father / Kiss your sons and daughters / Goodbye, goodbye...]

Children were always bathed in an ethereal light, incandescent in the slumber of death. Shinigami knelt, methodically and with one pale arm from thin black sleeves, gently reached into infant skin, hand disappearing beneath cloth and flesh. He raised his hand, fingers entangled in a translucent form that slowly righted itself, knitting itself into the form of a small child, still attached to the motionless body on the ground by a gleaming thread. The little girl stood, her form swelling and collapsing; gazed at him expectantly. His scythe flickered in his other hand and hefting it, he deftly swung it in a sudden arc, snapping the lifethread. The child specter remained for a brief instant, then raised her eyes to the sky. Shinigami kissed two fingers before pressing them to her forehead; the thin form slid between the shadows and disappeared.

[...Steam scared and roller / Ladytron controller / Ten feet tall, better walk it back down...]

He descended-- or ascended, he still wasn't sure-- into the Void, settling down on the obsidian throne that glittered in some elusive light. His scythe rested on his lap as Shinigami brought one foot up to rest upon the seat. His hair slowly unraveled, cascading down over black-clothed shoulders like a king's robe.

The silence set in; only now did he hear the faintest echo of his own footsteps. Time coiled and overlapped in strange ways for him. Resting his chin on one ivory hand, he stared into the empty space, violet eyes wide and pensive.

[...Despite the great duress / Always get off, cause damn it / It's the only surefire way to win...]

Cold sweat, bathing his brow.

Duo fumbled with the gearshift, frantic feet slamming down on the gas pedal. The heavy truck accelerated, tires skidding against rough road.

He couldn't remember how much time had passed since he'd made his promise. An hour? Two? The cross had snuck out of his shirt and was bouncing wildly as he turned the final corner.

[...Your poison doesn't hurt me no / Tender wine disguised in a milk bath, bad TV show...]

"It-- it can't be."

Duo stood in the rubble that remained of the church-- crumbled stone and broken plaster angels, the ground littered with debris-- and repeated his words. "It can't be."

Sister Helen. His eyes burned as tears continued to streak down his cheeks. He stared at the cloudless sky with blank eyes, even as the wind picked up and blew across his face.

[...I'm here to celebrate the one below / Last I heard from good god above / Was the slap on my ass / By a lipstick-kissed elbow glove...]

Shinigami stalked the ruins of Maxwell Church, scythe in hand, meticulously slicing and cutting. Some days called for efficiency. His violet eyes held no expression at each fading, shattered face. His lips were cold.

He straightened and stared at the lone, standing figure in the wreck. Waves of despair rolled off the small boy, clear pangs of grief and-- here, his eyes shifted-- loneliness. Something almost as ultimate as his own. He found himself gliding towards the child, black robe fluttering. Standing silently behind him, he waited for the figure to turn.

Duo shivered and turned, slowly, facing the unfathomable violet gaze with his own dark blue eyes. Shinigami knelt suddenly, mind pounding with the influx of emotion. The scythe burned in his hands with a strange intensity that he had never felt before.

[...I came down like water / For the age of solar love...]

/...lonely.../ A voice rumbled in Duo's mind. He was still captivated by the stranger in front of him. So familiar. His eyes traced the length of the chestnut braid and widened in sudden realization.

/You... I'm.../

A wordless invitation was extended to him and he nodded, slowly.

Cold lips pressed against his forehead, and a sudden blackness surrounded him like a shroud. He could sense something Beyond-- the Dark, the Cold, the Void which Beckoned-- inexorably drawing him in. His eyes fluttered as the chill seeped into his skin and into the marrow of his bones, before they closed and he fell to the ground.

When Duo woke up, he was alone.

[...And hail to the father / Kiss your sons and daughters...]

The man in the white lab coat snorted, crossing his arms. "Maxwell...? Ha ha... Maxwell's little demon, hn?"

Duo slowly looked up, a smile beginning to form on his lips. "Not a demon." Wide violet eyes wide narrowed into cracks of indigo fury and cynical glee. "I'm Shinigami."

Plum irises looked out, unblinking, as Shinigami unfolded and stared at the world from the face of a child.

[...Goodbye, goodbye...]

The End

Notes:
[1] Prayer for Life from: http://www.catholic.org/prayer/pray2.html#life. I myself am painfully ignorant of Catholic customs, prayer, etc., so if this prayer is usually used on specific occasions... er... oops. -_-;;

Feedback sent to the black hole that is Jay's mind will be happily repaid with a multitude of glomps and chibi G-boys doing the moonwalk.

And here is an illustration by Spade (more pics by Spade can be found here).

Jay