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His fingers pressed down slowly on the keys of the grand piano, the sound of the chords echoing quietly and filling the room with the deep, rich, melancholy sound. His hands moved to the next chord and then slowly to the next, weaving a melody of despair that spiraled its way through the depths of his heart. He repeated the melody over and over, trying to fill the empty void, but it was of no use. He felt so alone now.
The final memorial service had been today, for three of his closest friends. They died in the war, one by one.
First Heero, in the ambush.
Then Trowa, inside the Libra.
Finally Wufei, who had died to defeat Treize.
The war was over, and of the five Gundam pilots, only he and Duo remained.
Quatre closed his eyes, but not to hold back tears. He had none left to spill. He was beyond tears now. He could only continue his sad song, fingers moving gracefully yet without hope from one chord to the next. He was alone in the music room, with its wooden floors, high ceiling and windows. The sun was setting outside, letting only a dark amber glow light the room.
He'd picked up his violin at first, turning it over delicately in his fingers, but that held too many memories, too many happy duets between he and Trowa. He had frowned, suddenly unable to bear the sight of it and all that it stood for in his mind now that… now...
He'd felt a rage building up inside of him and before he realized what he was doing, he'd thrown it across the room. It had hit the wall, snapping the neck and clattering to the ground. Quatre had stood there, savagely satisfied with his work at first. Common sense returned once more though and he'd shook his head, righting the direction of his thoughts, wide-eyed at his own sudden outburst. This wasn't him. This wasn't what he wanted.
It was then that he'd sat down at the piano, closing his eyes to play. Somehow, it seemed to fit what he wanted to express much more than his violin could have. The sound was full, able to stand on its own. It was how he wanted to feel now himself, but couldn't. Instead his hands wove a soliloquy of music that came from somewhere deep inside of him. It had begun slowly, in hollow despair, and softened, but now it was building into something more ominous, leading up to something a part of him feared. A part of him knew he couldn't escape from if he ventured there. It frightened him and his hands stopped over the keys, fingers resting lightly on top of the black and white ivories.
A cold hand gripped his wrist.
Quatre jumped, wrenching his hand away, his closed eyes flying open. He pushed backwards, knocking the piano bench out violently from beneath him. Wide-eyed, he fought for his breath as he stared at the figure before him, clothed in a loose, black silk robe that hung open over his chest. Shadowed by the very beginning of night's shadows, Duo looked like Death himself, come to claim the life of the last remaining pilot.
Duo hadn't been the same since Heero died. He had loved Heero, Quatre knew as much, but he had loved Heero too deeply. When he'd been caught in the center of that ambush they all had thought he'd make it, like he had so many times before. Heero hadn't had the chance to recover that time though. After that, Duo had changed. He'd become silent, deadly, unmerciful and undiscriminating of his enemies. They had known Duo was a good pilot, but they had never known just how much he had been holding back. Duo extracted his revenge through the precise and efficient completion of one mission to the next, decimating OZ's mobile suits and anyone else who happened to get in his way whenever he gained the chance. There was no more bragging chatter across their communication channels from Gundam 02, no more playful banter after a battle was over, no more cheerful laughter and jokes. Duo Maxwell had died with Heero Yuy. Only Shinigami remained.
The pilots had kept a professional distance from him up until the end of the war, but Shinigami knew nothing of peace. He'd had nowhere to go and no more purpose in life. Duo felt empty, Heero's death still weighed heavily in his heart. He'd tried to fill that missing void with the deaths of enemies. Quatre had offered him a place in his home for however long he wanted to stay, out of concern for his well-being. The last thing he'd wanted was to attend the funeral of another one of his closest friends. Duo had accepted, but isolated himself, refusing to leave his room, even to eat. Often Quatre would bring a tray of food and leave it in front of the closed and locked door, hoping he would take it, but he rarely did. He hardly spoke to him.
They had never had the chance for proper funerals during the war, but even so, Duo hadn't attended the memorial today.
Now Duo looked painfully thin, his complexion pale, he'd seemed to have materialized next to the blonde boy like some kind of phantom out of the darkness. Quatre briefly thought he was hallucinating, but no, it was real. The first he'd actually seen of Duo in weeks.
//just a reflection//
//just a glimpse//
//just a little reminder//
"D-Duo…" he stuttered, at a loss for words.
The moonlight, shining delicately in through the ceiling-high windows, glinted off of the folds of the black silk robe as Duo silently began to stalk towards him, an empty look of grim determination in his once vibrant, violet eyes. Quatre took a step back, and then another. Another and another until his back hit the wall and he uttered a startled gasp. Duo reached his arms out to either side of Quatre, leaning against the wall and blocking both directions of his escape. Quatre opened his mouth to tell him to stop but it was suddenly covered by Duo's own in a deep kiss.
//of all the what abouts//
//and all the might have//
//could have beens//
Quatre couldn't move, he felt paralyzed. As Duo leaned down to meet Quatre's lips, his braid slid slowly off his shoulder between them, bumping up against the shorter boy's chest. The taller boy moved his lips slowly away to stare into Quatre's confused and startled blue eyes. He knew Quatre could see the emptiness, the pain, and the anger now in his own.
"Now you know. This is what it feels like. A dull ache that throbs at your temples every waking moment of every day and haunts your dreams every moment of sleep, demanding to know why you weren't there, why you couldn't stop it from happening. But you're the last one of us that's really alive, Quatre, and I can't watch you slip away," Duo spoke in a quiet, yet demanding voice.
They stood there, staring into the depths of one another's eyes for what felt like eternity. Quatre saw the beginnings of himself reflected there in that hollowness, what he was slowly becoming. He could see where he was headed now… and he couldn't bear the sight of it. He looked away, shutting his eyes against that prophecy. When he timidly opened them again, he found he was alone, still huddled up against the wall. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the edge of Duo's robe as it disappeared out of the room's door as stealthily as he had first appeared.
//another day//
//some other way//
//but not another reason to continue//
//and now you're one of us//
//the wretched//
Duo moved down the hall, taking every turn sharply, trying to recede to the confinement of his room as quickly as possible. He never should have left it, he knew that. Some force had drawn him out, though, pulled him towards that melody, the one that echoed what he'd felt inside ever since the day of the ambush… He didn't want to be like this. They had made plans, for after the war, where they would go, what they would do, so long as it was together…
//the hopes and prays//
//the better days//
//the far away//
//forget it//
Duo gritted his teeth and pushed the memories out of his mind, shaking his head violently and pushing in through his door, slamming it behind him.
//it didn't turn out the way you wanted it to//
//it didn't turn out the way you wanted it, did it?//
//it didn't turn out the way you wanted it to//
//it didn't turn out the way you wanted it, did it?//
He'd no sooner entered than he fell to his knees, shutting his eyes tightly against a sudden onslaught of tears, gritting his teeth, and gripping his head in shaking hands. He was fighting for his own sanity. Fighting to convince himself he was still alive. Fighting to convince himself he was not already in the grave with the rest of them. He could just end it, right now… there was knife he'd smuggled in with him… there was no reason to go on…
//now you know//
//this is what it feels like//
//now you know//
//this is what it feels like//
… but Quatre. There was still Quatre… Duo pulled his hands away from his own head and slowly opened his eyes, freeing the tears to cascade down his thinning cheeks. He stared at his own trembling hands. So frail now… so fragile… They could save no one now, protect no one. Not even the only one left that he loved… Quatre, beautiful, kind Quatre… he was slowly becoming like Duo now. Falling into the same void…
They'd sacrificed everything for the war. Heero, Trowa, and Wufei had sacrificed their lives. Duo had sacrificed his sanity. They had lost everything for this so-called peace.
//the clouds will part and the sky cracks open//
//and god himself will reach his fucking arm//
//through//
//JUST TO PUSH YOU DOWN//
//JUST TO HOLD YOU DOWN//
Where had it gotten them? Here. Heero in his grave. Duo alone, haunted by his memory. Only partially alive anymore. Every breath burned in his lungs. Every moment of consciousness was of pain. There was no escape for him anymore, not from this.
//stuck in this hole with the shit and the piss//
//and it’s hard to believe it could come down to this//
//back at the beginning//
//sinking//
//swimming//
His hands steadied themselves and fell to his knees against black silk. The emotion drained from his face once again. He didn't bother to move where he knelt on the floor, staring down at his hands, appearing almost as though he were praying, but to the god he knew didn't exist. He didn’t move, didn't care, even as the door opened just a sliver behind him, light pouring in from the hall.
"Duo…" Quatre's voice softly rang in his ears, almost bringing the tears back to the surface, but Duo held resolute, unmoving, unfeeling, uncaring.
Quatre eased his way into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him, immersing them both in the darkness once more. He reached out to his friend, but hesitated. Duo felt foreign to him now, he didn’t know how he would react. Nonetheless, Duo was still the person he had once known, somewhere in the form before him now. He gently reached out and touched his shoulder.
Receiving no response, he looked away, pulling back again and wringing his hands together, a deep frown set in his usually so delicate features.
"You think they died for nothing, don't you," Quatre's voice was no more than a whisper, but deadly serious.
Duo still was silent. A quiet click of the door hinted that Quatre would leave, but it was the sound of the lock, clicking into place. Quatre stepped around to face Duo and knelt down, trying to see his face, which was now shadowed by his feathered brown bangs.
Quatre stared hard at him, waiting for the braided boy to meet his eyes. Still, there was nothing. He took a deep breath and pulled his hand back, slapping Duo across the face hard enough to send any other person sprawling to the floor. This was still Duo before him, though. The impact merely jarred his head to the side, now facing away to look down at the floor to the side, but still not speaking. As suddenly as he had hit him, though, Quatre wrapped his arms around Duo's neck and pulled him close, in silent apology.
"I won't let you say that they died for nothing. I won't let you think it," he spoke softly into the other boy's neck. "You're the only one I have left and I know you're still in there somewhere. The Duo Maxwell I knew wouldn't give up so easily. You can't be dead too. I can't be the one to live for all of us alone. Please, come back… please…"
//and in the end//
//we still pretend//
//the time we spend//
//not knowing when//
//you're finally free//
//and you could be//
Something inside of him stirred.
Warm. Quatre's arms were so warm. It seeped in, somehow overtaking the bitter, ice-cold void he'd grown so accustomed to retreating into. His hands twitched, wanting to reach out and hold the blond boy close to him. He wanted to feel that warmth, that closeness again. The way he'd once felt in Heero's arms…
//but it didn't turn out the way you wanted it to//
//it didn't turn out the way you wanted it to//
"Duo," Quatre pulled back, gently taking Duo's face in his hands, bringing him back and forcing him to look into his eyes. "I can't stand to see you like this any longer and now I know you aren't entirely lost. You always used to say that the life of a soldier is short lived so you have to make the most of it, take love where we can. I don't want to be alone anymore, Duo… and I don't want you to be alone either…"
Once emotionless violet eyes widened.
//now you know//
Quatre's lips pressed to Duo's own. Somehow, something in him told him it felt right, that it was time to leave the past. He found his mouth slowly opening to receive him.
//this is what it feels like//
One hand reached up, encircling Quatre's waist. The other soon followed. Could he be loved again?
//now you know//
//this is what it feels like//
Could he love again himself?
//you can try to stop it but it keeps on coming//
//you can try to stop it but//