And He Doth Descended Into the Depths of Heaven
-Part One-
Kuriyamimizu

© The characters held within this story are not the copyrighted property of the author and she is not claiming that they are. However the story line is hers and hers alone, so the rest of you that claim plagiarism can blow off ; )

 Heero  Yuy stared blankly at the few green words on the screen. They remained there stubbornly flashing in glowing neon green. He couldn't ignore them. He couldn't forget them. They were his orders and he was bound by the netting of fate and honor to carry out the orders.

/Destroy Wing Zero and Wing 01 and then self destruct./

 He didn't want to, there was no logical reason for him to die. And they might need Zero in the future. However the orders didn't go away. With shaking hands he punched in the confirmation codes.

"Niminu kryoukai."

-End Prelude

Part One- The Art of Self-destruction

  I sat on Deathscythes' thermal scythe, straddling it and staring lovingly into the black and subtlety expressive face of my Gundam. My braid had lolled lazily over one shoulder. I leaned down, balanced so that my elbows held my head which had been cupped in my hands.

"How have you been today my friend?"

 Silence greeted me. Then I'd shrugged and smiled lazily.

"Quiet as always, I'm glad you're feeling okay. It seems like a good day for me so far."

 There was a hazy comfortable silence in the wake of the last fading echoes of my voice in the vast expanse of the hangar. The heat of the place was oppressive. The hangar had been built for the comfort of no man, but rather the machines it was the home to. It was Deathscythe's home and therefore I was happy to be with my metal friend, not much caring about the stuffy atmosphere. A balmy silence stretched out wire thin in ears that were used to noise. Then I had smiled again, for seemingly the millionth time that week and had sprawled out, laying fully atop the weapon of my weapon of destruction. Upon thinking about that I almost had to laugh. Since when did weapons have weapons? There was no time to ponder that question, it got shoved into the back of my brain with all of the other mysteries of life.

 The reason I had no time to ponder was the small fact that I felt as if I had suddenly been hit upside the head with a ton of bricks. There had never been anything in my experience up to that point in time to rival that sudden migraine. And then the images started.

"Oh God."

 I could hear my own small prayer in ringing ears and then the hangar faded away. The first things I saw weren't anything new or special to me. They were things oft repeated in my 'normal' everyday life. You know, the little things, fire, wanton destruction, death, corpses strewn here and there. However one thing I was definitely not used to was the sounds of screaming. Every now and then a yell would come over the com. Yet this was the in-your-face real thing. I don't know who was screaming louder, me or the voices inside of my head. The hell I saw before me had suddenly taken over reality and I don't know about anyone else, but any semi-sane person might be a little freaked by that. So I screamed, knowing that it was most likely the most futile of gestures that I could have made.

 After standing there for a little longer, yelling my throat raw and getting an eyeful of corpses and bloody death I saw the feathers. A little trail of the things, and they were white no less. Somehow they seemed a little out of place smack in the middle of hell. However weird things must show up from time to time. I looked around again, nothing had tried to jump me and no hideous specters from my past were here to haunt me either. This was one trippy dream/vision/whatever. What the hell ne? Let's follow the feathers and see where they lead.

 Later, looking back on that decision it would be on of the stupidest and most scarring decisions of my life. I followed the feathers, a little white trail of them, stained the rusty crimson red of blood. It was still fresh too, you know that? They glittered in the bloody red sun of a burning sky and glistened, adding to the rather gory atmosphere of the place. I followed the feathers to the source. A wing, ripped from it's owner I might add. A very large bird…no not a bird…oh God…Heero.

 What I saw could only be described as the scene of some horrible rape and mutilation. There were enough parts left to assume that the shell in front of me had rather recently been Heero Yuy. Rape was the only word I could find and bring to my rapidly incoherent mind as I stared at the horrible atrocities committed to his form. He was clad only in his own blood and his remaining wing, draped about his shoulder as if to shield him from something. It hadn't done much good though, all the feathers had been ripped out and strewn about. The wingless shoulder was at an angle that was about as unnatural as one could get. The tendons and muscles were messed and ripped back there, from where he had lost his wing. The flesh on his back, arms, legs everywhere was cris-crossed and lined with nail marks, some presumably his own. A sightless pair of holes where his beautiful eyes had been stared straight up into the bloody skies. All over his body there were little bloody designs etched in his own blood and what sacred little remained of his flesh. It was a gruesome and horrible sight that I will never forget as long as I live and breath.

 It was then that I truly screamed, a loud, resounding, soul-searching cry for help and a cry born of pure anguish. I knew that any day I might have to deal with the horror of Heero dying, but this…dear God in heaven. Just one scream, that's all I could seem to produce, no tears, nor sobs, no emotion save blinding terror. There was a movement at my left. Being the happy little terrorist I am I happily wheeled from the sight of Heero to face my new opponent.

 She certainly didn't look like a threat. She was actually pretty cute when I got a look at her. She was dressed in a long black tank-top and had blonde hair and a pretty little face. From her height and size I guessed her to be no more than four. She had a giant set of purple eyes which could easily rival mine if not outshine them in intensity, that in itself was quite a feat. I would have picked her up and talked to her had it not been for the little pair of demon wings flowing gracefully from her shoulders. They looked like little dragon wings. She frowned at me and pointed a chubby hand over to Heero. I didn't look over again. I knew what I would see.

 She started to speak but no discernable words came in my direction, only stony silence. Enough was enough. I could lip read, so I put my skills to use.

/ It's really sad about him. He's dead, now everyone else is dead too, once killed and twice gone. /

 I stepped back from the little child, innately afraid of something in her simple message. I continued to stare at her slight form until she smiled at me again, her big purple eyes shining. Then she too fell forward onto her tiny knees. The wings that looked so much like those of dragons flexed once violently outward and then she fell face forward, blood spilling out of her mouth. There was a small thump as she hit the ground.

 As I stared around at sights that were all too familiar a single nomadic thought crossed my mind in a leisurely fashion. With nightmares, once the shock factor wore off, usually the dream faded into something else entirely. At first this hadn't seemed like a dream. It had been too horrifyingly, gruesomely real, however, with the balmy atmosphere of the hangar it was very possible that I had nodded off. I'd been doing that lately. To speak of strange things I'd been getting the most intense migraines, and I couldn't seem to concentrate on things. However, it would be prudent to focus on the problem at hand. And that was getting out of hell. I closed my eyes and uttered a silent prayer to above, asking that the nightmare-scape before me would fade and that the molested figure of my partner and in truth the man that I just happened to be /falling in love/ with, would promptly disappear in an orderly fashion.

 When I opened my eyes I wasn't staring into rafters, I was still staring into a hazy, burning sky. This was definitely not good. When I looked back down I saw one body, instead of two. The little demon had disappeared. Right then I really didn't care. I just wanted out.

 There was a movement off to my left. I whirled, reaching for the gun that I did not have like any good terrorist would. Instead of a gun I found a scythe in my hand. That was odd, and then again this was a /very/ odd dream. At the receiving end of my new weapon was Quatre, not looking distressed in the slightest that it was very possible his head could have been neatly sliced off had he been about a foot closer to me. He smiled warmly. I knew this was Quatre. I knew it because I know his soul. I know all of their souls, Quatre, Wufei, Trowa, and Heero. They're all familiar parts of my heart. Closer than family, friends, or lovers, we are complete and one, each complimenting the other, adding where another lacks and being added to in turn.

 He reached out one of his slim hands, almost as slim and delicate as my own, and beckoned. I stepped closer, interested in what he was going to tell me. When I was in hearing range he looked at me with an earnest expression and informed me in that deceptively gentle and soft voice of his that,

"We need to wake up Duo."

 I smiled at him and nodded enthusiastically, the words, 'no shit' lingering unsaid on my lips. Somehow he was just too polite to use profane statements lightly. I have no problems ranting full out with my most /colorful/ vocabulary around Wufei and Heero; however with Quatre and Trowa I keep my mouth in check as much as possible.

"How do I wake up?"

"Take my hand."

 So I did, reaching for the solace and comfort from the harsh reality that had suddenly been dumped onto my head. When I caught his hand it all started to melt away and vanish, the panic and the pain filtering away like colors bleeding off of a canvas drenched with paint remover.

 The first thing I heard when I woke up was a set of gasps, one my own and the other Quatre's. The first thing I became aware of as soon as I found that my brain was still connected to my body was; I was the proud owner of a migraine of undocumented proportions. It felt like someone had gone in and split my head in half like some sort of a melon.

"ITAAAAAAI!!!!"

 Quatre looked over quickly, his eyes, blue as a clear day, flashing with worry.

"Daibouju ka?"

"Daibouju, I just have the mother of all migraines."

 Quatre smiled at me, looking a little paler than he had in the dream.

"Duo you have to be more careful! I came in here to tell you that we are all going out to eat and you were invited when I watched you fall from Deathscythe's scythe and hit the floor with this horrible noise. I'm glad that it wasn't that far of a fall otherwise you'd be dead. But more than that when I came over you wouldn't wake up."
 He wasn't saying something. I could read something hidden in his eyes. I've got that talent, I've had it for a long time. I just wondered, what was it that was so bad, or important that I didn't need to know about it? When I thought about it I knew I wouldn't make it through lunch. I might have another one of the dizzy spells that seemed to be visiting me with disturbing frequency. I grinned at him, the grin I use whenever I'm hiding something, a patented grin that I know works, on everyone, except for Quatre.

"I'm kinda sore. I think I'll pass 'kay?"

 The blonde nodded, as if I'd made the right decision. Again he smiled at me, this smile that rightfully belonged on the face of an angel. Most likely he was an angel, trapped on Earth for a little while. Then he spoke again.

"That's a good idea. And get some sleep eh? Might help your concentration!"

 He walked out, and I knew somehow, within that instant, that hell was going to come tearing up over out heads and was going to knock on our door sometime real, real soon. Don't ask how I knew, I just knew.

-End Part One

On to Part 2

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