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

© to me, myself and I, erm, the characters Fusei, Alex, Brynn, Sakura, and Stephanie are the property of myself and my friends. The rest are the copyrighted property of the original owners of Gundam.

Warnings- More Shonen ai and some really odd situations forthcoming! *WHEE! *

 Heero was sitting in his room alone, a single light shining over his studious profile as he tapped on his laptop in a mindless rhythm. As Fusei entered the room she knew that he was waiting for Duo. She smiled at her handiwork. She had always been renowned for her miracles when concerning those that she protected. Some said that she had been damned when it came to those that she guarded, for she was usually paired with those that would die soon, children caught in the street, those with terminal diseases, and whatnot. What ‘they’ didn’t know was that she was paired with these people not because she was inferior, but rather because she was strong enough to support them.

 Heero definitely was one that needed her support. On the outside he was strong. And to a point, inside he was as well, but not nearly strong enough to deal with his life. More than once she had stopped him from slitting his wrists and letting his life slowly ebb out of him as he sat in his cockpit. More than once she had preserved his life, only to force him into more hell. Yet always for a reason. She always did it for a reason. Her reason had suddenly become to get him together with Duo Maxwell. She personally had always thought that they made a cute couple, however, it didn’t make sense for both large powers to suddenly agree that both boys should be together. As a fact, both were store-houses of tremendous energy. Duo had his faith, it had always helped him to control the power of his own soul, and so he was completely unaware of the potential that slept within him. Or maybe he was very aware. At least the part of him that was Shinigami was aware.

 That thought made her tremble slightly and she couldn’t understand why. As for Heero, he had always had such a focus, such a self-control, that holding his own power in check had been a very simple task. He had never acknowledged that which was within, because he had managed it so well it had never manifested.

 He was tapping away at his laptop now. She smiled. The little piece of cold machinery was his escape from the world. All it required was straight logical thinking. He liked to think in that manner because it didn’t require his always hidden emotions. He really needed to show things. He could be feeling as if his heart were going to break and leap out of his chest while he was in the most immense pain of his life, and yet all that would show on his face might be a small grimace. He was so good at hiding his emotions that later on down the road, it was very possible that he might never be able to show anything to anyone again. She worried so much. Still, now was not the time for thought.

 With a silent flap of wings Fusei moved herself over to sit next to Heero on the bed. One of her delicate hands came up to stroke through Heero’s hair, even while she started to sing in a low, sweet, melodious voice.

 I can’t help but to smile, I love my laptop, it always takes all of the tension out of me. Working through the straight forward programming codes of the machine helps me focus my thoughts. And I can even remember the old song. Way back when I was still in training with J, it was very, very hard. There were many days when it felt as if my mind and soul would shatter. I’d fall asleep on the cold, hard mattress that was provided for me to sleep on, with one blanket, and I would huddle, my small, slim frame convulsing. Sometimes that still happens, when I’ve had a really bad day, and nothing seems to fit, I’ll wake up curled up in the same fetal position that I constantly fell asleep in all of those years back. However, some of the times it wasn’t that bad. There was the singing. It may have just have been my stress wracked brain, making me imagine the sweet, soothing voice of a woman singing to me; but now in light of certain events, I think I had angels watching over me.

 I stop, mid sentence at that thought, my fingers still splayed out over the keys of my laptop, and a thoughtful expression moving onto my face. I never had faith. Not in the way Duo has. Most likely I never will. I can’t put my trust in things that aren’t palpable. Whenever others have done it in the past, all that has resulted is hardship.  Hmmm, harsh thoughts. A quick glance down at the bottom right hand side of my laptop screen shows the time. I think I ought to sleep. Even if I don’t have a mission right at the moment those damned doctors seem to always come up with something inane to do. A little sleep under my belt would be nothing bad. Still, I give myself pause. The bed across from mine, an arms’ length away in fact, is still empty. The sheets are rumpled from where he had been sleeping earlier. I don’t want to go to sleep without knowing that he’s asleep here as well, in the same room as I.

 ‘What are we jealous now Yuy?’ I roll my eyes as I ask myself that question. In all honestly I can’t figure why I want to see the other teen sleeping across from me. Hell, as far as I know, he might be off sleeping with Wufei right now.

 As I find my way out of the flash of anger elicited by that thought I look down to find my fingers tangled in the sheets; my knuckles white from the stress I’m holding the sheets with. Where did I get this jealous? The boy is my partner for the occasional mission. And usually my backup for most undercover work that I do. Where did this---desire---come from?

 ‘You’ve seen the looks he’s given you’ Now I’m arguing with myself. Great, what looks? Were they things I made up in my mind, or does Duo perhaps reciprocate this attention that I suddenly find myself paying him? All of these thoughts are making my head hurt. I don’t want to think about it anymore. There’s no more to be thought about. I’m going to sleep, I’ll get up tomorrow morning and progress.

 As I slip beneath the cool cotton of my sheets I find myself wishing that he was there with me, his lithe body cuddled up to mine, so I could wind my fingers into his hair and fall asleep with his little snores in my ears, like a lovely melody. In the sudden darkness of the room after I flipped off the lights my sigh sounds long and empty. I really need a mission.

 Wufei found himself completely immersed in the rhythms of his movements. Silently his mind went back and thanked his old masters for the training that they had instilled in him a while back. Pure movements were the best and most effective way to jump out of reality. Through movement he didn’t have to think about Duo, Heero, all of the other pilots, or the ever present and overwhelming feeling of impending doom now in motion.

 He knew that someone was watching him. He also knew that were he to look around he would not see that person. Whomever they were they had been watching him for a good long while. They were also very concerned about him. He had known that the person had been there for a while now. Always watching, always there. It was too much. The whole week, month, year, hell his whole lifetime had been too much. There was something inside of him, something was waking up, stirred back into the hazy light of consciousness, triggered by Heero’s talk of angels. He dropped the sword he had been practicing with. It fell to the floor with a ringing metallic thud. Slowly the Chinese pilot sank down onto his knees, the most unnatural look on his face. Were one to look at him in that moment he looked positively terrified.

 He could almost have sworn that he heard a flutter of wings. That fact only caused him more stress and a low, frightened whimper came from a constricting throat. Sweat from his workout was fast becoming replaced with that of terror. It fell in cold droplets down his face and crashed to the floor, shattering. His hands were folded over his midsection, as if he wanted to keep something in. He could feel it in there, beginning to stretch its claws and wake up again. He didn’t want to become, it wasn’t time yet. Not yet.

“Just wait a few more months ryu, your time to shine is coming, but not yet. Leave me to myself a little while yet. Please.”

 His whispered appeal fell on no man’s ears.  However, the fires beginning to stir within his soul calmed themselves, content to smolder rather than flare. It knew its time was coming, it knew that he couldn’t hold it in forever. The time was coming.

“Thank you---“

 He started as he found fingers resting on his shoulder. For a fraction of a second he thought that it might be the mysterious person who had been watching him for so long. However, he found no such thing to be true. It was Maxwell standing there, his large, almost feminine eyes widened with concern, yet more importantly, understanding. Wufei found a blush coming to his cheeks. Duo was the last person he wanted to appear in any way vulnerable to.

 The teen standing behind him was silent for the length of a few more minutes. And then he dropped down into a sitting position next to Wufei and looked at him with compassion replacing the earlier concern.

“It’s frightening isn’t it?”

 The sound of the Deathscythe pilot’s low, resonating voice sent shivers down his spine. There was something about him. Wufei’s mind whirled, maybe he really did understand. His further musings in that direction were cut short as Duo spoke again, staring at a wall, rather than at the rather shaken Wufei.

“It’s dreadfully frightening to have the feeling that there’s something inside of you, clawing at you isn’t it Wu-man?”

 The Chinese pilot nodded. Duo sighed, looking over at him for the first time.

“You know something?”

“What?”

 Wufei growled inwardly, his voice had cracked. He must be more stressed then he had at first thought.

“It’s getting really close to the new year.”

“So?”

“It’s going to be the year 3000.”

“I thought no one thought that way anymore.”

“I usually go by the system set up as ‘after colony’ as well, however, tonight, I was doing a little reading.”

 At this point in the conversation Wufei noted that Duo’s crucifix was actually in evidence. He had known that the other pilot wore one, yet he had not yet chanced to actually see it. Yet there it was, plain against Maxwell’s all black attire. The reason that it was in any way odd, was simply because, never before had the Chinese pilot actually seen the little ornamentation.

 Duo went on, his eyes looking distant, off into expanses that Wufei couldn’t see.

“There’s some really interesting things in the Bible Wu-man. I read through it all, and it was certainly different.”

 The Chinese pilot shook his head, still looking bemused.

“I hadn’t taken the time to read the Christian Bible. I’m a Buddhist. “

 Duo made a gesture of vague dismissal and stared ahead at the wall. Finally after the silence had stretched to the point where Wufei was curious as to where Duo had been going with that little string of conversation, he spoke again.

“So, what about the year 3000?”

“Satan will come. Armageddon will follow him. It’ll all start in the desert and the dark one will take the form of a man. There’s going to be some weird shit happening in a few months.”

 Wufei shook his head, he had never thought of Duo as the particularly religious or superstitious type.

“What makes you think the world’s going to end this time either. Last millennium there was the same hype, and absolutely nothing happened!”

 The look on Duo’s face gave him pause after the words had left his lips. There was an intensity in his eyes that he had never seen in the longhaired pilot before. Duo spoke again, still staring into the whiteness of the walls. His voice was soft and barely audible.

“That is because---Wufei my friend---.the right vessel was not yet born and brought here. No one had the right form. However, there’s someone here this time around. Even now they’re beginning to feel the changes. Had they been religious, they’re loosing their faith. Had they been righteous it’s being raped from them even as dark desires curl and burn within a heart that they had once thought their own.”

 As the other pilot spoke Wufei found an irrational fear sparking in his heart. Against his will his fingers had laced tightly together and he was gripping so hard that the skin beneath his fingertips was turning white. Suddenly something dawned on him and what Maxwell had been saying minutes earlier struck home.

“Duo?”

 When the other pilot looked over at him, he could swear that it was not Duo Maxwell looking at him through dulled violet eyes. There was something else there. He felt that presence inside of himself sparking as well, and staring back out of his eyes to meet a supposed challenge.

 They stared at each other for a while longer, the room silent save the slight sounds of breathing. Then they both found themselves again. Duo grabbed his head with a long hiss and Wufei let out a gasp, as if he had been holding his breath for that small eternity.

“What in hell was that?”

 Duo said nothing, his face white, his eyes scrunched shut as if he were in great pain. His fingers dug into his hair and Wufei could almost hear the small whimpers that he made. When whatever had possessed the youth passed he looked up at Wufei with cloudy eyes and answered.

“Yes, I do think that hell is the answer in itself. I’ve got to go to bed. Goodnight Wufei.”

“Sleep well Maxwell.”

 The other gave him a small nod as he walked out, grabbing the wall at the last moment and then turning the corner on legs that seemed as if they would buckle out from beneath him.

  Quatre stared down at the weathered old parchments with studious interest. He had lied earlier when he had said that he had trouble translating the older Arabic. Quite the opposite, he could translate it just fine. It wasn’t a problem at all. The fact that he could read it with such ease made him a tad bit nervous.

 In the background Trowa was sitting and reading a book, his legs crossed with his back leaning against the wall which his bed rested. He was bunking with Quatre in much the same way Duo had been stuck with Heero. Out of personal preference, he enjoyed the house which they were currently staying in. However, due to the size of the place it was  a little bit cramped in the way of bedrooms. Wufei was the only one with a room to himself, even though the same room was barely eight feet by eight feet. He didn’t seem to mind though.

 Quatre looked back to his quiet friend with a warm look on his face. Trowa was a really sweet person under the rather blank exterior that he put forth for the rest of the world to see. He had been the one to sit and drink tea and listen to his concerns when no one else had made themselves apparent. In that same way Trowa was always around when he needed to talk, or simply needed someone to be with. He didn’t like solitude as much as the next person. He was never happier then when he was with someone. He liked the feeling of being around his friends because he could –feel- their souls.

 He had always had the ability to sense and feel what was going on in others hearts and minds. From the turmoil and confusion that fear brought to the serenity and bliss that came from the simple act of sleep. At that thought Quatre stopped and frowned. He hoped that he hadn’t been too hard on Duo. It was just of utmost importance that he keep that boy safe. And virgin.

 He could feel Trowa’s inquisitive gaze resting on his back. He turned once again with the cheerful, warm mask that served him when he actually didn’t feel the part.

“What’s up?”

 Trowa laid the book down on the bed sheets, his finger resting between the covers, marking his place.

“You seem pensive again.”

 Quatre shrugged. The ink beneath his fingertips almost glowed. He hoped that his partner couldn’t see it. The old texts were reacting to him. He knew that they had stories to tell, however now was not the time for them.

“It’s the reading material.”

 Trowa frowned and with one small motion he put a bookmark in his book and came over to stand over Quatre. One look over the small Arabian pilot’s shoulder showed him something that he hadn’t expected to see. However, to Quatre’s surprise it didn’t seem to phase the Heavyarms pilot.

“Any idea why the text is glowing?”

 There was no accusation in that voice, no malice, only mild inquiry. Quatre was very glad for the small things afforded to him in life, such as a friend, no, a best friend that didn’t accuse, and was only mildly curious about some things that most people would be very wary about.

 He let out a small sigh.

“It’s reacting to my touch.”

 Trowa was silent for a long moment. Quatre took that as a cue that he ought to explain a couple of things.

“Did you know that it’s getting closer to the millennium?”

 Another moment of silence stretched between them. Quatre was very aware of the other’s hand resting lightly on his shoulder, it’s warmth coming through the thin cotton fabric of the shirt he happened to be wearing that morning.

“Actually, I was aware of that. There’s about four months to go.”

 Quatre looked back and up at Trowa, slightly bemused. He hadn’t thought that anyone else would be keeping track of time by old standards. His face fell once again into the solemn aspect that it had previously held.

“Let me ask you something else. What are your beliefs Trowa?”

 The Heavyarms pilot fell into silence, which was not an unusual position for him to take when he was contemplating an answer to a multi-faceted question.

“It depends on your definition. If you’re thinking in terms of religion, I don’t have one. What are you asking?”

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

 Quatre caught the subtle widening of the other boy’s eyes as reincarnation was mentioned. He knew that it was a principle carried over from Buddhism, and most likely Wufei would be familiar with the specifics, however Trowa seemed as if he was the possessor of some knowledge of his own.

“---yes---“

 Quatre smiled and looked slightly relieved. “That’s good, it makes things much easier to explain now that you’ve told me that.”

 He looked up wistfully at the Heavyarms pilot, wishing that the other boy all ready knew what he was about to tell him. It would make it much easier.

“Now how does this have to do with glowing Arabic? Well, the answer comes from almost two-thousand years ago. It was a past life of mine, and a destiny that we both share.”

 At that point Trowa sat down in the chair that was pulled away from the table next to Quatre, his hands beginning to tremble. When he looked over to his little blonde friend and caught his eyes it felt as if he were going to drown in pools of pure blue truth. It had always been said by those who knew the little blonde that a person could find the truth in Quatre’s eyes. They looked as ageless and infinite as time itself.

“The text is glowing because it’s reacting to me, actually, my mind. If you didn’t know by now, I’m psychic. Now seems to be as good a time as any to inform you of that fact. I’ve always been, it’s what’s supposed to be.

 The reason that I mentioned the millennium, is that I was evolved with the first one. Yeah, way back there in 999 AD.”

 Quatre gave himself pause as he saw a surreal look pass over his companion’s face. He wondered if he should stop where he had, because Trowa looked  unnaturally pale. Just as the words, ‘never mind’ were about to come off of his lips Trowa looked up at him sharply; and in a tone that he had never heard before said, “keep talking, I remember!”

 I remember, those two words had the effect of stopping time for a small eternity. Quatre looked at Trowa with disbelief flooding into his eyes. His brain had effectively frozen in a state of unbelieving shock. He couldn’t think, only react.

 One moment Trowa was staring into the shocked face of Quatre, and then the next moment he was staring into the same individual’s bangs. Quatre’s lips were locked with his own, in a sweet, very innocent kiss, one that seemed to have been waiting to happen for a good –long- while. Just as his brain almost managed to form a coherent thought, the other pilot brought his face away and blushed in an extremely cute fashion.

“---sorry----“

 Trowa’s own cheeks were burning, and something in his heart melted. In that instant he realized a simple truth.

“It’s all right.”

 Quatre looked up at him with eyes that would rightfully belong to a small, scared puppy.

“Really?”

“Yeah, so what were you saying?”

 When Quatre looked down to the scrolls that had been previously forgotten he realized that the text was fairly shining now. It have been reacting to the recent moment. He shook his head and took a deep breath.

“I’ll make it short and simple, because I still don’t understand myself. I’m the one that’s supposed to read these things. I’m supposed to know what is going to happen. That’s exactly what they tell too. What’s going to happen. I was there at the first millennium. There were two options available at the time, let the world end, or stop it. I chose the second option and wrote myself a couple of ‘notes’”

 At that point he passed a small hand over the scroll resting on the table. The glow of the text followed the motion of his hand.

“Now we’re getting close to the second time around, and it’s crunch time again. I might not have to choose again, not if I play my cards right.”

 Quatre rested his forehead in the palm of his hand, his fingers reaching up through his bangs and an expression of acute distress rested on his face. As he spoke again he didn’t look at Trowa.

“And you were watching over me the last time. And it seems to be going the same way this time.”

 Trowa became concerned as he heard Quatre’s voice catch. When he looked closer he saw that the other boy was crying, tears sliding silently down his face to shatter on his shirt. There were no sounds to join his tears. Every now and then his slight frame shook with a silent sob.

 His next actions were without thought, much as he would punch in codes for Heavyarms, or to take the necessary steps to stay balanced on the wire even while flipping. He rose and wrapped his arms lightly around the crying Quatre and held him close.

“shhh.”

 He didn’t mind when Quatre turned and buried his face in his shirt, his tears soaking through the soft fabric.

“I don’t want to watch you to die again----I don’t want to loose you again.”

 Trowa noted not the words, but rather that in his distress, Quatre had managed to let his voice sound even more accented than usual.

“It’s all right. I’m right here.”

 Quatre found that his mind was in a complete daze. He couldn’t believe that Trowa wasn’t pushing him away. He shouldn’t have leaked the information that he had previously died, however, his heart screamed at the thought of not trying to prevent the same eventuality. He slowly became aware of the fact the other boy was brushing his fingers slowly through his hair. His other hand was resting comfortingly on his back, holding him closer. He could hear Trowa’s heart beating. It was a strong beat, and it told Quatre that he was there; breathing, warm, and definitely alive.

 Trowa felt the tension ease out of his friend and watched Quatre’s tears stop. Still the boy did not move from where he was leaning. His face looked ever so slightly pouty, and irresistibly cute. Trowa found that his tone of voice was one much gentler than the norm.

“You okay now?”

 Quatre nodded, the attractive blush rising once again to his cheeks as he pulled away and sat straight once again in his seat.

“Yeah. Just old stuff.”

“The past has an interesting way of coming up to bite you on the ass.”

 Quatre raised his eyebrows. He decided that maybe that particular statement was best left as it was. He chuckled slightly, trying to break the silence that had fallen between them.

“Yeah, well. I think I’m going to go and get something to eat, and then sleep.”

 Trowa nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”

 At that point Quatre rose, bringing his sleeve across his eyes once to wipe the tears that were still clinging tenaciously to his cheeks and exited the room with as much dignity as he could muster at the moment. Trowa watched him exit with the same indifference outwardly apparent that everyone saw. Inside however he was so dazed that he could hardly think straight.

 After the little blond had left he brought his fingertips up and touched his lips. There, Quatre had kissed him, right there. At that thought a curious feeling wound through him, something warm and comfortable. He wouldn’t mind if the other boy did it again sometime. In that respect he would –never- mind if that boy kissed him.

 Having nothing better to do with his time he walked over to look at what Quatre had been reading. His eyes roamed restlessly over the paper and the symbols continued to mean absolutely nothing to him. However, a small pad of paper to the left of the scrolls caught his eye. He didn’t want to be nosy, but something about that paper caught his attention. It was the contents of the scroll, translated. For a few moments he stood there debating with himself whether or not he should read it.

 After he was done debating with himself, the answer apparent was that he should wait until Quatre told him what was in the scrolls. He seemed to have been about to do just that before he had gone and said something. It had been a very odd day. He replaced the pad of paper and walked back over to his bed and picked up his book.

 Quatre came back in to find Trowa once again immersed in literature. Inwardly he suppressed a sigh. He had almost hoped that the other pilot might return his kiss.

 The rest of that evening passed without event. Quatre went to sleep around four o-clock AM. In the background Trowa had still been reading. Quatre was about to fall into the dark throes of sleep when he heard the other pilot rise and get undressed. He opened his eyes marginally enough to watch Trowa pull of his turtle-neck shirt to reveal a nicely made back and set of shoulders. Next off went his pants and he was down to boxers. Quatre fought with himself to keep some rather naughty thoughts from coming to mind. He closed his eyes again when Trowa turned his way.

 He heard the other pilot’s footsteps grow nearer to him and then to his joy he felt the other pilot’s hand brush over his face, in what he hoped was an affectionate gesture. He heard Trowa’s low, sweet voice and fought to keep a smile from washing onto his lips and betraying the fact that he wasn’t sleeping.

“Sleep well little angel.”

 His heart leapt, and some old doubts that he had long harbored melted away in the space of three words. As far as he could tell, Trowa did care something about him!

 I let out a small sigh of satisfaction as the thermal scythe belonging to my Gundam finally ignited again. I’d been slightly worried for a while because something had broken and it wouldn’t start. However, with a little coaching form Howard, who happens to be in Hawaii right now, and a little elbow grease, I got it to work. Alex is hovering in the background. I’ve gotten used to her by now. She isn’t very intrusive. One might think that if you has a four-year-old demon constantly hanging around oneself, one would always be aware of it. Actually, it’s quite the opposite, most of the time I find myself forgetting that she’s even there.

 The beeping of my watch tells me that it’s time for lunch and almost time for my meeting with Sally Poe. I’m going to see her to get my neck checked out. I’m still getting those really annoying migraines and I’m beginning to have trouble concentrating on small things.

 In retrospect, the past few weeks have gone rather smoothly. Alex became my constant ‘angel’ and Heero went off on a reconnaissance mission. I think it probably either was that option, or watch him slowly jump out of his skin. He really needed to get out of here. He still hasn’t returned yet.

Wufei disappeared too, although I don’t think he had a mission. I think he just needed to get out of the house. He’d been spending a whole lot of time in his room up to the time he left. Hell, if I lived in the room he has I’d be suffering from claustrophobia by now. He left a note saying that he could be reached through the long-range communicator and left. That’s not a problem.

My  other two remaining comrades have been spending a lot of time together, working on those scrolls that Quatre found in his father’s hope chest. He told me about them about a week back. It was some really interesting material, however, about halfway through his explanation I got another one of my lovely migraines and had to go and lie down. I really despise my head. I think they’re spending a little more time studying each other than the old parchments. Personally I think it’s good for them.

-End Part Four

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