“See? Paranoid.” Duo throws the core of the apple into the waste bin. I feel rather useless, lying in bed, and I want to be freed from the itching IV. As soon as that doctor visits me, I’ll ask him… tell him to remove the stupid thing.
“Since when do you want to do some interrogating? You hardly concern yourself with the arrested suspects.”
“I just feel like it. Since my active partner is confined to the bed and has to rest for quite some time to come, I better get used to an office job.”
I snort. “I’m not going to lie down for eight weeks.”
He ruffles my hair. “It would be better for you. You’ve been working so hard lately. Mission after mission after mission. A break wouldn’t hurt you, you know.”
“You don’t take a break either,” I point out.
“No, because I don’t allow you to go on missions with anyone else but me.”
I shiver a little from the possessiveness seeping through his words and I’m about to revel in it when Wufei reenters the room.
“And?” Duo asks, tugging a little at my hair before letting go.
“Benedetti has been found,” Wufei confirms. “At least, what they think is Benedetti. He was literally sliced and diced. They have to puzzle his face together before they really know it’s him.”
I think the orange is working its way up again, and quickly I focus on something else; the corn yellow curtain will do. I count the pleats in the fabric as my mind processes the mental image. Again. Again, a death after our mission… but Duo is standing right in front of me, he’s not even turning pale. It just can’t be. He was in the hospital all day yesterday, being examined… it couldn’t be, it just can’t be!
“That’s laughable,” Duo comments dryly. “We live in a DNA age, Wufei. Have them send some blood over to one of our labs; they’ll know if it’s Benedetti within fifteen minutes. No need for such drama.”
“I think it’s pretty dramatic how he’s been found,” Wufei slowly answers, gauging Duo’s reactions. “We’ve seen our portion of dead people during the war days and in our line of work, but don’t you think this is a bit too extreme?”
“Overdone, even,” Duo merely shrugs. “A bullet would’ve done perfectly as well, or a simple stab through the heart. Benedetti has lots of enemies and his big mouth certainly contributed to the speed with which he was making enemies.”
“Don’t you think that…” Wufei starts, but the door to my room opens and doctor Catenatti walks in, clearly surprised to see two people standing next to my bed.
“Che cosa sta accendendo dentro qui?Il paziente ha bisogno del resto, e siete qui fuori delle ore di visita!”
“Scusilo, signore medico…” Hearing Wufei speak Italian is quite funny, and he’s looking for something, searching in his pockets. Duo turns around to face the doctor, and smiles at him.
“E tutto il di destra. Abbiamo permesso.”
The doctor looks a bit mistrusting, until Wufei presses his identification card into his hand. At least, I guess it’s some kind of impressive identification card, because the doctor returns it almost the next second, mumbling something akin to apologies. It irks me, knowing that Wufei has some ‘magical’ document that allows him to do his bidding and get away with virtually everything- I hadn’t realized it was outside of visiting hours. It only confirms my opinion that Wufei has really a higher level than us or has some special privileges, and I never would’ve held him for someone who made use of special cards or privileges to get his job done.
Catenatti approaches me, and asks me questions about how I feel. Duo translates for me so we don’t have any misunderstandings, and he even asks for me if I can do without the IV. The doctor hesitates slightly, and tells me it would be better if I leave it in for another day. If I feel even better tomorrow, I can leave the hospital after a final check-up. Duo thanks the man profusely and makes some small talk before the doctor finally leaves.
“It’s a good thing you have such a knack for languages,” Wufei compliments Duo when the doctor is gone. “I usually don’t pick up more than ‘thank you’, ‘excuse me’ and ‘please’.”
“It’s not that difficult, really, it’s just a matter of picking up some kind of pattern,” Duo answers, “as soon as I figure out the pattern, I have a grip on the language.”
“Convenient.” Wufei picks up his laptop again, and bows slightly to the both of us. Duo cuts him short before he can say his goodbyes.
“About the medical examination- do I get to see the results?”
He looks a bit incredulously at Duo. “They go into your personnel file, but sure, you have every right to see the result. I’m sure they’ll be fine, though, as you weren’t injured.”
Duo frowns a little, but refrains from commenting. Wufei turns towards me, and says: “We’ll be in touch concerning this case, and I hope you’ll be fully recovered soon.”
“Thank you,” I answer. “Catenatti said I could leave tomorrow if I feel better, so I take it I’m only in here for another night.”
“Excellent. Make use of the standard free time the ESUN grants you after work-related injuries. I think you’ll have no problem in finding something to occupy yourself with.”
“With this arm I doubt I can be of any use but for programming. Do you want me to design new tools?”
“I’m always interested,” Wufei says and he grins slightly. From our group, I’m the best when it comes to programming, and every one of us still uses my programs; we’re not exactly talking about common software here.
Carrying the laptop, he says goodbye to Duo and walks over to the door.
“Have fun with my psych evaluation, Wufei,” Duo calls after him. He stands still at the door, taking his sweet time to turn around.
“You know that’s confidential between doctor and patient, and certain restricted ESUN-related personnel.”
“That’s what I said,” Duo says, deadpan. “Have fun with it, Wufei.”
“It’s not for my eyes, Duo,” Wufei retorts, his voice as neutral as always. “I don’t know why you think I have access to your personnel file or evaluation reports.”
“It’s all right.” Duo moves away from the foot of my bed, turning his back to Wufei rather brusquely. “You know, Heero, for every little thing that’s supposed to make me American, I’ve never tried a pizza in the land where they come from! Tell you what, tomorrow night I’ll take you out to that nice little restaurant I saw…”
I’m sure Wufei will be offended by the way he’s being dismissed, but he’s not in the top-five of my priorities list right now. Not even in the top-ten… I look at Duo’s gorgeous large violet and cobalt eyes and drown again. I’ll promise him the end of the world if he asks that of me. The logical and rational part of my mind shuts down as he nuzzles my neck, pressing his lips against my skin. Maybe I forgot. Maybe I forget too soon. Maybe he’s manipulating me. At this moment, I don’t care. He takes my pain away, literally, and replaces it with his warmth and his compassion, only destined for me. His eyes, his hair, his lips, his fingers, his hands… they all belong to me, his complete body, his soul, everything belongs to me- just as everything of me belongs to him.
He owns me. And still, at that very moment, I realize that I have nothing under control. He tastes like chaos, destruction and despair, but his lips, dear Gods, his lips… they are warm and full of life and they capture mine, breathe life into me, confirm me in my every being, tell me that he’s mine and that I’m his.
----------------
Duo is true to his word, and picks me up from the hospital, as usual dressed in black. This very morning my IV is taken away by the same nurse as yesterday, and after another check-up by Catenatti I’m pronounced ‘safe’ enough to leave the hospital. I accept the prescription for pain killers he gives me, if only to get rid of the man. Duo, who constantly hovers over me, acts as translator again and asks for fun if I’m allowed to eat pizza. This launches a very livid discussion about the best pizza place in Florence, while I only want to leave, leave! I hate hospitals, and I hate being dependent, even if it is Duo who’s going to help me the next few weeks. The broken arm renders me helpless. I can’t even get my shirt on.
“Have some patience, dear,” Duo laughs and helps me get into the shirt. “If you move your arm like that, you’re going to rip the fabric.”
I grumble in response, not really charmed. If this is his idea of revenge after all the babying I give him whenever he has an injury, then... well, I guess I have been served ice-cold. There’s nothing cooing in Duo’s voice, and after he sees the doctor out after promising to follow up on his advice on pizza restaurants, he returns to me to help me finish with dressing.
He picks up my shoes and shoves them on my feet. I feel much better without the IV, though the remaining painkillers will soon wear off. I’m not sure if I want to get that prescription; a little pain has never killed me. My ribs still hurt, a dull, continuous ache, and it irritates me.
“What?” I realise he’s been talking to me without me paying attention.
“I said that I was really hungry and could go for a pizza now.” He straightens himself and pinches me in the cheek. “What’s the matter, Heero? Am I not interesting enough for you anymore? You’re so awfully distant and silent lately. What are you brooding about?”
I gape at him, almost feeling in shock about his casual questions. I’ve been spending so much time thinking about Duo and his behaviour that it never crossed my mind that he was thinking about me and my behaviour as well. That’s it, tonight at dinner I’ll tell him everything- the accusations, about Wufei’s attitude, the murders and how they’re connected to our missions, the scythe thing.
He cocks his head, looking at me, awaiting an answer. “Well?”
“Let’s get out of here,” I say. “We go eat a pizza and we talk.” I slide off the bed and he grabs my arm, a slightly bewildered expression in his eyes.
“Heero?”
I quickly peck him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Duo. I didn’t mean to upset you. There’s something we need to talk about, and it pertains a little to our relationship- but nothing drastic.”
“Heero,” he says again, tightening his grip on my arm. “Tell me now.”
“I love you,” I try to assure him, mentally cursing myself for my bad choice of words. “It’s too complicated to explain right here now, but it’s nothing drastic…” It’s a lie and I recognize it the second it slips out of my mouth. What I’m going to tell him is that he’s probably hosting another personality, and not just another personality… the God of Death he used to associate himself with. He’s going to declare me insane, laugh or get flaming mad. I don’t care- I have to tell him this, or I’ll drive myself mad. One way or another, he must know what headquarters is thinking about him, what one of his friends thinks about him, that there are too many coincidences, too many similarities, too much of everything.
I can see from his eyes that he doesn’t believe me, and is still bracing himself for words of dread.
“Duo, we’re not going to break up. Absolutely not. Never.”
Nothing changes in his posture, and his mouth has become a tight line, face placid. I’ve ruined his good mood, I’ve ruined the evening, I’ve ruined everything I could at this very moment and I feel guilty- but not as guilty as I should be, for not having told Duo what has been going on for so long now. It’s a mistake I’m going to rectify, and I’ll use tonight to tell him everything. What he will say, that… depends. That depends on whether I’m talking to Duo Maxwell or Shinigami.
“Let’s go, then.” He sounds hesitant, reluctant. I move my left hand, taking up his braid and gently stroke the thick rope of hair. My fingers touch the black scarf, and it doesn’t surprise me that it’s made out of silk. I don’t even want to ask myself why it doesn’t surprise me. He stands still, awaiting my answer, awaiting my decision. His eyes carry a curious, questioning look.
“It’s going to be all right,” I whisper, “everything’s going to be all right.”
Duo shows a smile, his usual, self-confident smile and I see the slight twitch behind it; he’s on his guard. He didn’t expect my sudden announcement that we needed to talk, even though he was the one to question my attitude in the first place. My stomach rumbles; I’m quite hungry too. The hospital food is edible, but I can’t recall if I’ve really eaten anything except some pasta and bread.
“Let’s go,” I repeat his words, and start walking in front of him. I know he follows me, though I can’t hear his footsteps nor hear his breathing; I only hear a soft, swishing sound and it baffles me, until I realize it’s the loose ends of his scarf, dancing behind him. “Duo?”
“Yes?”
“Since when do you wear that scarf in your braid?”
“Since when? Oh, not that long. I just tried it out once, and I like it. You don’t?”
“It looks good on you,” I reassure him, receiving a big grin in return. It looks very good on you… but I don’t know if it was yours or Shinigami’s idea to put it there. I shake my head vigorously.
“Something the matter?”
“No, I’m okay.” I’m not going to drive myself crazy, and I’m not going to follow Wufei’s idea about a second personality, and certainly not a Shinigami one! I grit my teeth, mentally preparing myself for the difficult conversation I’m going to have.
We leave the hospital after signing the release papers, and Duo chats a bit with the receptionist, joking about sky-high medical insurance prices while I scrawl my name under the forms. I want to get out of here and get something to eat before my stomach turns itself one more time. How’s Duo going to react? What will he say… will his other personality resurface? It’s impossible, almost too crazy for words. Duo’s not the kind of person to host other personalities but his own, and… the familiar ring of my cell phone interrupts my thoughts.
“It’s a good thing you’re already out of the hospital,” Duo comments amusedly, pointing at a large “No cell phones” sign just a few inches away. I nod and quickly walk further, to the parking lot. I answer the call. “Yuy here.”
“Chang,” Wufei introduces himself without further ado; I already recognized his number. “Hearing you answer the phone answers my question whether you’re already out of the hospital, so I’ll continue. I’ve been ordered to work on the Benedetti case, and the consequences and implications of his death have top priority at the office now. I’ll be busy for a while, but I want to keep in touch with you concerning… the case.”
“I understand,” I answer, wanting to snap a snide comment to him about referring to the situation as “the case”. It’s the most neutral description, I know, but I hate it- it’s as if he refers to Duo as “a case”, and Duo Maxwell isn’t a case. He’s a person, a real life person, and he’s walking next to me.
“We’ll keep in touch via e-mail,” is Wufei’s last sentence before he disconnects me. I close my cell phone and stuff it in my pocket.
“Nothing special?” Duo asks, while pulling car keys out of his pocket. He leads me to a dark blue Fiat 124 Sedan, and opens the door for me.
“Wufei and his paranoia,” I try to joke, and I see him grin just as he closes the door after I step in. He saunters over to the other side of the car and slips into the passenger’s seat.
“Nice rental,” I compliment him.
“The only available one,” he says, still wearing his grin. We’re still on ESUN’s tab here; the hotel, incredibly luxuriously it might be, is also paid by them, so why not rent a more expensive car?
I can’t help but snort, as this is a typical Duo-thing to do, and it makes me feel happy. The penny pinchers at the reimbursement department will have a field day with his expenses.
Borgo Antico looks crowded and crammed, but after a few words from Duo the waiter leads us to the back of the place, where it’s quieter. With the smell of authentically prepared pizza, the large Chianti bottles on the ceiling and the paintings of the canals of Venice on the wall, the restaurant is the stereotype of all Italian pizzerias: I like it.
“Prego,” the waiter says while pulling one of the chairs backwards. He hands us the wine card and the menus and promises to come back in a short while for our order.
Duo opens the menu, eyes scanning the list of offered dishes. I do the same, knowing that it’s going to be hard to choose from all the specialties. It doesn’t really matter anyway; the food’s of minor importance, considering what we’re about to discuss.
“I think I’ll try the one with seafood. Or the Quattro Stagioni? It sounds all so very delicious.”
“You like seafood,” I remind him, “but maybe it’s even more appealing to try a little bit of everything? The Quattro Stagioni holds a variety of seafood as well, with some extra ingredients; and olives… you like olives, don’t you?”
Duo smiles and makes a decision. “You should reconsider your career possibilities, Heero. You’d do excellent in PR and marketing.”
I make a noncommittal sound, not responding to his comment. The pizzas look all good to me and I settle for a Campagnola, a pizza with a topping of tomato, mozzarella, mushroom, Brie, and smoked ham. Neither of us bothers looking at the wine card; we’re not drinkers- I can count the times that Duo has had a beer on the fingers of one hand.
He laces his fingers together and leans a bit forward, elbows on the table. “So… tell me.”
To the point, my Duo. Just like any of us he’s not one to beat around the bush. His eyes tell me to “get it over with and better make it good”. There’s something really feisty in those large eyes; he’s thrown the first card on the table, but I bluffed him, so now it’s time to show my hand.
“Just a minute,” I say, not because I’m a coward, but because of the waiter approaching us, asking for our order. After he has left, scribbling the order down as he walks, I look at Duo. I want to look him straight in the eye when I tell him. I tell him. I tell him everything. I open my mouth and I don’t stop, the words spilling over my lips, pouring it all out over him. I’m talking and talking, only lowering my voice when the waiter puts the pizza in front of me, knowing he won’t understand because we don’t speak Italian to each other.
I’m not finished telling, not giving him one chance, one opening to interrupt me. He picks up his knife, and starts cutting the pizza. He’s listening to me, his facial expression not changing, not even showing disbelief. I pick up my knife as well, only to notice that my pizza has been pre-cut; something Duo must’ve asked while ordering.
I can’t eat. Not yet. I want to tell him, and as I take a deep breath, he immediately jumps on the offered chance.
“Do you believe them?”
He was so awfully quick to defend himself, so quick to kick the ball back in my court when I asked him something, assuming that I was questioning his work. He doesn’t even deny… he only asks me if I believe them. I’m confused, and it dawns me that I’m stabbing the slice of pizza with my fork, the motion repeatedly.
“Do you believe them?”
Do I?
“There are some things… some changes in your behaviour that encourages me to believe them. I don’t know how I can put this, Duo… but…”
“Yes or no, Heero.”
“No.”
He swallows carefully the slice of pizza he’s munching on, taking up the napkin to dab at his mouth. “Then it’s settled.”
“Settled what? Duo, I just told you…”
“I heard what you told me. I’ve listened to every word you said.”
“But don’t you think… Duo, this is serious.”
He looks at me, his violet eyes solely directed at me. “If you think that I think this is some kind of joke, then you’re mistaken. ESUN is serious business, and Wufei can be a lot of things, but he’s respectful and I trust him to have approached this with his usual objectiveness, integrity and sense of justice.”
“We have to do something about this. They’re questioning you as employee, as person, as human being. It’s obvious they think you have to do something with all of this, and I know we can disprove their every accusation.”
“Eat your pizza, Heero,” Duo says, a faint smile curling his lips. “You need to regain your strength.”
It brings a faint smile to my lips as well and I spear a piece of pizza on my fork, eating it. It’s almost cold, and I don’t have much appetite left anyway. I put down my fork after eating the bite of food.
“Duo…”
“Hmmm?” He plucks at a piece of focaccia bread, distractedly.
“Don’t you… care? What I said…”
“For all I care, they can think I’m Buddha incarnated,” he answers, putting a piece of bread into his mouth. “As long as they don’t officially charge me with anything, and only have this Disassociative Identity Disorder affection to work with, I don’t think I’m in some kind of danger zone. And as long as you believe me, I don’t see anything particular to my disadvantage.”
I take a sip of my water. “We need to set this right, Duo. They’ve been spending time and money on this, if only to determine the weapon used. You do realize they associate you with a scythe, don’t you? If anything, we have to talk to Une and Wufei in person to show them that they’re wrong.”
“You won’t believe how much I want to yell at them right now,” Duo says, narrowing his eyes slightly. “They can destroy whole lives with their accusations and assumptions.”
“Still, there are some things that just don’t match up right, Duo,” I say, choosing my words very carefully. “Remember the whole Eastbourne mission? The Masterson list? The security guard who ended up dead?”
“I remember that mission very well and I hate it that you keep bringing it up,” he spits back, hand crumbling the rest of the bread. “Why do you doubt me so? I wasn’t very clear in my statement, but I stand by what happened.”
“I don’t doubt you, but you have to admit that it was strange,” I stubbornly continue. “You said that the guard didn’t spot you, and the next instance you said you knocked him unconscious.”
“The mission was completed to everybody’s satisfaction, end of story,” he all but growls.
“The man ended up dead and sliced!”
“Heero, quit it! You believe them, don’t you? Are you fucking lying to me? Lying to me?”
“I’m not lying! I want this over and done with, and I want the truth to be revealed!”
“Just fucking listen to yourself! “The truth to be revealed”… what are you, some kind of poet? Are the missions more important than your partner? Your partner, who’s always watched your back?”
“I don’t want any of this,” I whisper. “I want nothing but to disprove everything and make sure every misunderstanding is out of the way. This is tarnishing us, discrediting you, and I want this all cleared up. Please Duo, tell me you want this too.”
“Of course I do,” he answers, “the whole association thing with Shinigami is quite ridiculous, yet all those killings are something that can’t be denied. Something strange is going on, and if I’m involved somehow, I’d love to know it. I really wish they’d talked to me.”
“I’m not really agreeing with their method either,” I shake my head as if I pity Une and everybody else at the ESUN, “but I’m sure we can tell them how many mistakes they’ve made once we’re able to disprove everything.”
“I’m sure Une wants to hear what I’ve got to say. On second thoughts… she didn’t actually bother very much with approaching me.”
“And Wufei?”
“What about him?”
“Is he still our friend?”
“He still is. I call him my friend, and I don’t blame him for what he did. If he thinks he protected us by working on the mission like this, then I believe him. He knows us best, and I’m sure he intended well.”
I take another sip of my water, feeling relieved. Duo hardly hold grudges, as far as I can tell- but then again, maybe he can hold grudges and never tell me… there are so many things unspoken left between us, that’s something that has to change. Starting with myself; nothing will remain in shadows or clouds between us, and I will start by telling him my nightmares, the ones he knows I have and is only able to comfort me by telling me everything’s going to be all right. Yes, everything is going to be all right.
“Duo…”
“No more talk about work now,” he says, showing me a confident smile. “The night’s still young and I don’t want to ruin it by talking about work and missions and whatever or whoever I’m supposed to be.”
“This is serious business,” I see the waiter walking up to our table, wanting to know if we care for a dessert and I stop talking. Duo orders a bowl of tiramisu, and I politely decline. He rubs his hands, in anticipation of the dessert.
“I know, but at this moment there’s nothing I can do about it.” He flicks his braid over his shoulder and looks at me, eyes a bright violet. “Let’s enjoy this evening, and pick up on our daily worries tomorrow. You didn’t think I only wanted to have dinner with you, did you?”
His smile turns into a grin, a wicked one to boot. There’s something in store for me, and I don’t need to take a guess. There’s only one thing that I must ask.
“Will you take it easy with my arm?”
--------------------
The words he whispers in my ears are ones of absolute love. His tresses caress my face, my neck, my throat. His eyes look at me, before they close in searing passion, his lips part to grant me access, the portal to his soul. His breathing is erratic, as is mine, and I tilt my head back, trying to steady myself under this onslaught of pleasure, this… this everything he does to me. His hands are everywhere, his hair flows around him, loose, the black scarf loosely tied around my wrist. My broken arm rests on the pillows, and I have him trapped with my legs, my foot sliding across his calf. I want to feel him; I want to welcome him, death and sorrow and joy, heaven and hell, life and passion and lust. Gods, this lust is so overwhelming that I insistently arch my back, wanting to feel more, needing to feel more. I want him, I want all of him, and above all, I want him to be him. Duo Maxwell. The Duo Maxwell who shot me when he first saw me, the one who rescued me against all odds from the hospital. The one who stands beside me, who holds my back, who loves me, who cares for me always and forever and I forget. I forget in that dark night in Florence, when he makes me cry out loud his name, and he laughs softly, a little bit off, and a speck of dark violet is the last thing I see before I fall asleep, exhausted.
---------------------
Silves, Portugal, AC 206
“All this because of what? All this because of me? That’s not true! Duo has me, he’s always had me! You aren’t much of a survivor, are you?”
I wonder how I can still speak while my bullet travels faster than the speed of light towards him, towards his face, towards his brow… perfect hit. Instant death. Right between the eyes. I only see him smirk when he casually lifts the scythe and describes a perfect arc, ricocheting the bullet, a silver flash in the dark of night. It only takes a fraction of a second for me to realize that the bullet comes back to me, and it hits me straight in the chest. I stagger backwards, feeling the pain ripping through my body – a fiery hot iron rod, a chunk of piercing ice, stabbing my body, melting together in pain, excruciating pain.
Perfect hit.
I hear screaming in my ear- Wufei, frantically demanding what’s going on. I lost.
“Duo... I can’t believe…”
I fall to the ground. My eyes are wide open, taking in everything around me; the dark moonlit sky, the twinkling stars, the vague silhouette of the convent. A tree close to me with its grinding branches, as if there isn’t enough wind to make them move. I hear a moaning sound, like a sigh being heaved with the last breath of a dying man... me? I hit the ground, at least I think I hit the ground as I don’t feel anything- but I’m lying down, on my back, staring at the sky. One man down. Paralyzed, immobilized.
What... what was I expecting to find here? This mission, led by Wufei, was supposed to be a step towards the arrest of a certain Pinheiro, suspected to be the leader of a widespread drugs cartel. There was nothing that even remotely indicated that… he would come out. And why would he? Even though I’m constantly keeping a close eye on Duo, I haven’t noticed any significant changes, nothing out of the ordinary… unless I’ve been blinded. Blinded as I’ve always been when it comes to my Duo. I hear myself taking gulps of breath; short, staccato gulps. I need air...
He walks, no, he saunters over to me and kneels besides me. With the faintest of touches, he renders the transmitter I’m wearing useless- it immediately breaks, out of order, crackling for the last time.
“Tonight is such a beautiful night, is it not?”
I can’t find enough breath to answer him, but I find I can move my head to look at him. He meets my gaze without a flinch, his chestnut bangs framing his face, the thick braid dangling over his shoulder. The black silk scarf braided in it is hardly visible; he’s completely dressed in black, but this is a different kind of black. It’s almost like someone… has poured it over him, the way it moves around him, dances with him, as if it’s liquid. He’s dressed in the color of the night, or better yet… the darkness of night has wrapped itself around him and allows him to use the shadows to clothe himself.
Everything is the same about him and yet so very different. This isn’t Duo Maxwell, this is Shinigami, and he doesn’t bother covering it up anymore. He hovers a little over me, his look almost like one of a curious child, hands wrapped around the thick staff of the scythe. It looks like burned oak wood, and seeing its length as well as the curve and the blade of the scythe, it must be an incredibly heavy weapon. I almost want to choke on my laughter; I’m fucking dying here, and I’m still analyzing his weapon. I’m admiring the instrument of Death, for its precision, for the beautiful silver blade, the golden pattern in the oak wooden staff, for its... ruthlessness. How many people have died at his hands? How many people have seen the scythe coming towards them, maybe even felt the impact, if they hadn’t already died from the terror and fear?
“It was you all the time, wasn’t it?”
He reaches with his hand for my hair and ruffles it. I want to jerk my head away, but I can’t.
“No, it was not,” he answers, his voice a few octaves lower than Duo’s. It keeps the same melodic intonation, and he sings… his words have always sung to me. It was his words that blinded me, his words that deterred me from seeing what was going on.
“I know you cannot believe it. You never could believe what was happening, even if it was in front of your eyes.” Duo -no, Shinigami- shakes his head, and there’s something – pity? - showing on his face. It’s only then that I realize I’m not feeling any pain. I’ve been hit point blank and the bullet must’ve ripped my heart, yet I feel nothing, and I’m still conscious. Conscious enough to talk and to think.
“Death is not a power, nor a force,” I repeat. There’s something trickling out of the corner of my mouth. Blood.
“You are right,” he answers, expression indescribable. “Death is a passion. And passion for death, my darling Heero, is something that was abundant in your Duo.”
“You’re lying... you’re just fucking lying.”
“Tsk tsk, there is no need for such language,” he says admonishingly, but sounding amused nonetheless. He likes my despair, my struggle to find words, my fight to extend my life. He looks like a cat about to devour a helpless little bird, the hunter who has caught his prey.
“I advise you not to concern yourself, my dear Heero. You are dead anyway, and you failed to see.”
“What... what did I fail to see?”
“Oh Heero, if you even need to ask it now, you certainly have failed. Why don’t you put your mind at work, and try to analyze the situation? Assess me? There is probably a solution, even to this. You only need to see, Heero, but you have been so deliciously blind that you gave Death free rein.”
“If I’m to blame for all this, then I’ll accept it,” I speak, hurriedly. I don’t know how much time I have left, and I want to see, I want to speak to my Duo before everything’s too late.
“Noble, but no. You do not have to accept the blame, Heero. Nobody will know that you were to blame.”
“Take my life,” I tell him. “Take my life, but give Duo back his! Get out of him... use my body!”
“Is the great Heero Yuy so easily reduced to begging?” He throws his head back and laughs. “Do you not know what it will do to little Duo Maxwell if he learns that his lover and partner has voluntarily offered to become the God of Death, in order to save him?”
“Stop it,” I groan, his laughter hurting my ears. It’s nothing like Duo’s rambunctious laugh; it’s a series of short, barked noises, dripping with disdain.
Silence. I’m not dead… yet. He’s still kneeling beside me, his hands resting on his upper legs, the scythe in his hands. The end of the staff casually leans on my bloodied chest, but I don’t feel the weight. I don’t want to know where the end of the blade is. From what little I saw of the curve, it’s probably large enough to describe half a circle around my head.
“Why… just why?”
Chapter 12 | Chapter 14 |