[GW] Pair (1/1)
Title: Pair (1/1)
Author: Sailor Seraphim
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic.
Warnings: Angst, flashbacks, MPD/psychotic moments, language, graphic descriptions.
Notes: I'm taking artistic license with the events of Duo's past. This means is you don't know who or what "Solo" is, you shouldn't read this fic. Part of the Numerals Series.
Summary: Crawl into the mind of Gundam Pilot 02, Duo Maxwell. Find out what exactly keeps him awake at night.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
I run. I hide. I never lie.
Really! Honestly! Why is it so hard for everyone to believe? I mean, truth is subjective isn't it? Well, I'll admit that if you ask me the right questions, or I'm in the right mood, I'll tell you the complete, total, unvarnished truth. The problem is finding out which are the right questions to ask me, or finding out how to get me into the right mood to talk. Hey, I can't be captured by OZ all the time and keep spilling out secrets, ne? I'm not that dumb.
Getting caught sucks.
But OZ wasn't the one who taught me that. Learning not to get caught was one of the things I learned on the streets of L2 growing up. The first thing I learned was not to pee in the wind. Really messy. I can, however, write my name on a wall. Was that too much information? See, sometimes I forget when it's appropriate to say stuff. But with all the voices in my head, it's not too hard.
That was a joke! Really! Honestly! Well... mostly.
It's kinda creepy, ain't it? I don't ever think there was a time when I was afraid of the dark. You couldn't be afraid of the dark. Not on the streets. All us kids would huddle together in abandoned warehouses, homes, alleys, whatever was available places and stay warm and protected together in the dark. That's another thing I learned. You always watch your back. Or have someone do it for you. And we had to. We were *kids* after all. We learned quick what to do when you were attacked in the dark.
You ran.
You hid.
Or you found someone stronger to protect you.
That's a lot of what Solo did.
No one ever asks me about Solo. Maybe that's why I don't talk about him a lot. Or do I not talk and that's why no one ever asks? Huh. Damn. Now I'm gonna be thinking about that the whole day.
He never slept.
I think that's what I remember about him the most. When I went to sleep, huddled against a convenient wall out of the cold and wind, Solo was there, his hand warm against my back. When I woke up, Solo was there telling me about the newest shipment of meager supplies and did I want to go on a raid? We were always together. Of course we were. He was Solo. He protected me. He taught me. He made me learn.
One strange thing about L2 -- or not really strange if you think about it -- if a kid was caught stealing, he wasn't punished. Well, not *legally.* Sure, if a pissed off store owner or manager or Federation officer caught you, you beaten nine ways to Hell and dumped back onto the streets you slept on. Or you got shot. They liked to shoot at us. Then they stopped and started beating us again. I guess they figured us street kids weren't worth wasting the bullets on. But, back to the subject, if you stole something and got away, you got away scot-free. No one ever called cops on us. Cops? On L2? You might as well get on your knees and ask God to send his Angels. The military police had a bad enough time trying to deal with the pimps and pushers and gun runners -- the *grown* ups -- who did bad stuff to ever bother filling their prisons with street trash.
Of course, if they ever *knew* how many of us so-called kids were the ones stealing the ammo and arms and explosives, they probably would've changed their tune.
But they never found out.
They never asked.
‘Course, it's easy to hide a lot of things in the dark.
The dark. It's silly. That a grown man -- or damn near close to it -- would be afraid of the dark, right? But then again, when the nightmares drag you screaming into their depths, when you're caught in the merciless snare of accusations, torture and trauma, your nightmares usually don't have names.
Or faces.
Or lives.
Well, *had* lives, at any rate, until you cut them down with a flash of a green thermal blade scythe. Or pumped them full of bullets. Or used plastique like a set of fine pastels and brought down a fucking base on top of their heads while they slept.
No. You don't have stuff like that happen in your dreams. Of course not. You're not me. You're you. You don't understand me. If you understood me, you'd BE me. You can't understand me or else you'd be me and who the hell would I be?
They talk to me sometimes.
So does he.
Solo.
Is that okay?
I miss him.
We promised to always be together. Always. Always means forever. Really. Honestly. That long. He told me that. I believed him. Solo never lied. Well, he never lied to *me.* That's the important thing, right? Maybe that's why I took it so hard when that damned plague swept through the Colony. I didn't think he'd get hit with it. Solo was strong. Kids were dying all around us, every day. Solo told me things would get better. I thought that I was gonna be the one to die. I didn't know what that meant, really. I'd seen people die before -- they were shot or beaten or stabbed or even pushed out of high windows to splatter against the hard pavement. Sometimes kids went to sleep and they didn't wake up. But this... disease... I'd never seen anything like it before. I was six. Solo said everything would be okay. Then he started to cough. He told me everything would be okay. And then he started to bleed. Solo said everything would be okay. And then he couldn't walk anymore.
Solo told me everything would be okay.
I believed Solo.
He never lied to me.
I found out about the vaccine to the plague. Some older people were arguing about it, saying how it wasn't fair for the government to keep that shit locked up. Dizzy? Me, too. Can't stand all the bodies in the street. What were we, lab rats for them to experiment on? You're looking really pale. Do you know how many people have died? Oh my god... you've got it, too!
So I went to the place. Broke in. Their security sucked. I carried as many of those little bottles as I could. Solo said everything would be okay. When I got back to the alley that was our home, I shoved the little vials into as many hands as could still reach for them. I saved one though. I saved it for Solo. He was coughing something awful, red blotches of blood splattering across his hands and shirt and the ratty blanket that I had managed to snag to keep him warm in.
I gave the bottle to him.
It was small... tiny, really. That little vial that could save lives was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. It was filled with a shimmery amber liquid, the same color as Solo's eyes. I told Solo that it would make him better. It was medicine. All he had to do was take it and he'd get better. Everything would be okay. You'll get better, Solo! Really! Honestly!
So take it!
Please?
I don't know if he heard me.
I almost broke the glass bottle in my haste, ripping off the sanitized cap and pouring the thin liquid into Solo's throat, hoping that he'd swallow the stuff and not cough it up. Solo was quiet for a very long time. He didn't cough anymore. His amber eyes blinked at me through the cover of his dirty dishwater blond bangs and he smiled. He smiled for me.
"Ya done good, Kid. Real good."
"Everything will be okay. Really. Honestly."
"Yeah, Kid. Everything will get better. Hell, it can't get *worse*."
"You're... you're not gonna leave me, are ya, Solo?"
"Nah, Kid. Nah. Ain't never gonna leave ya. Why the hell are ya asking that for? Haven't I took care of ya since I found ya?"
"Yeah, Solo. Yeah. Me and you. Forever."
"Hell yeah. Man, Kid... we gotta get you an name. It's messin' me up ta call ya ‘Kid' all the time."
"Can't I be Solo, too?"
"Nah, Kid. You can't have my name. You need one of your own."
Everything was going to be okay.
Solo started to cough again. Solo. Solo. What's wrong? Why are you... no, Solo! No! You can't, you can't! You promised me! Don't lie to me, Solo! Don't lie! You said it would be you and me forever! Yeah, Kid. Forever. I'll always be with you. Solo. Solo. SOLO!!!
"If Solo is always with me, then we'll be Duo."
Solo. You lied.
Wait.
Sorry about that.
Was that too much information again?
-- Owari --
Author: Sailor Seraphim
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic.
Warnings: Angst, flashbacks, MPD/psychotic moments, language, graphic descriptions.
Notes: I'm taking artistic license with the events of Duo's past. This means is you don't know who or what "Solo" is, you shouldn't read this fic. Part of the Numerals Series.
Summary: Crawl into the mind of Gundam Pilot 02, Duo Maxwell. Find out what exactly keeps him awake at night.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
I run. I hide. I never lie.
Really! Honestly! Why is it so hard for everyone to believe? I mean, truth is subjective isn't it? Well, I'll admit that if you ask me the right questions, or I'm in the right mood, I'll tell you the complete, total, unvarnished truth. The problem is finding out which are the right questions to ask me, or finding out how to get me into the right mood to talk. Hey, I can't be captured by OZ all the time and keep spilling out secrets, ne? I'm not that dumb.
Getting caught sucks.
But OZ wasn't the one who taught me that. Learning not to get caught was one of the things I learned on the streets of L2 growing up. The first thing I learned was not to pee in the wind. Really messy. I can, however, write my name on a wall. Was that too much information? See, sometimes I forget when it's appropriate to say stuff. But with all the voices in my head, it's not too hard.
That was a joke! Really! Honestly! Well... mostly.
It's kinda creepy, ain't it? I don't ever think there was a time when I was afraid of the dark. You couldn't be afraid of the dark. Not on the streets. All us kids would huddle together in abandoned warehouses, homes, alleys, whatever was available places and stay warm and protected together in the dark. That's another thing I learned. You always watch your back. Or have someone do it for you. And we had to. We were *kids* after all. We learned quick what to do when you were attacked in the dark.
You ran.
You hid.
Or you found someone stronger to protect you.
That's a lot of what Solo did.
No one ever asks me about Solo. Maybe that's why I don't talk about him a lot. Or do I not talk and that's why no one ever asks? Huh. Damn. Now I'm gonna be thinking about that the whole day.
He never slept.
I think that's what I remember about him the most. When I went to sleep, huddled against a convenient wall out of the cold and wind, Solo was there, his hand warm against my back. When I woke up, Solo was there telling me about the newest shipment of meager supplies and did I want to go on a raid? We were always together. Of course we were. He was Solo. He protected me. He taught me. He made me learn.
One strange thing about L2 -- or not really strange if you think about it -- if a kid was caught stealing, he wasn't punished. Well, not *legally.* Sure, if a pissed off store owner or manager or Federation officer caught you, you beaten nine ways to Hell and dumped back onto the streets you slept on. Or you got shot. They liked to shoot at us. Then they stopped and started beating us again. I guess they figured us street kids weren't worth wasting the bullets on. But, back to the subject, if you stole something and got away, you got away scot-free. No one ever called cops on us. Cops? On L2? You might as well get on your knees and ask God to send his Angels. The military police had a bad enough time trying to deal with the pimps and pushers and gun runners -- the *grown* ups -- who did bad stuff to ever bother filling their prisons with street trash.
Of course, if they ever *knew* how many of us so-called kids were the ones stealing the ammo and arms and explosives, they probably would've changed their tune.
But they never found out.
They never asked.
‘Course, it's easy to hide a lot of things in the dark.
The dark. It's silly. That a grown man -- or damn near close to it -- would be afraid of the dark, right? But then again, when the nightmares drag you screaming into their depths, when you're caught in the merciless snare of accusations, torture and trauma, your nightmares usually don't have names.
Or faces.
Or lives.
Well, *had* lives, at any rate, until you cut them down with a flash of a green thermal blade scythe. Or pumped them full of bullets. Or used plastique like a set of fine pastels and brought down a fucking base on top of their heads while they slept.
No. You don't have stuff like that happen in your dreams. Of course not. You're not me. You're you. You don't understand me. If you understood me, you'd BE me. You can't understand me or else you'd be me and who the hell would I be?
They talk to me sometimes.
So does he.
Solo.
Is that okay?
I miss him.
We promised to always be together. Always. Always means forever. Really. Honestly. That long. He told me that. I believed him. Solo never lied. Well, he never lied to *me.* That's the important thing, right? Maybe that's why I took it so hard when that damned plague swept through the Colony. I didn't think he'd get hit with it. Solo was strong. Kids were dying all around us, every day. Solo told me things would get better. I thought that I was gonna be the one to die. I didn't know what that meant, really. I'd seen people die before -- they were shot or beaten or stabbed or even pushed out of high windows to splatter against the hard pavement. Sometimes kids went to sleep and they didn't wake up. But this... disease... I'd never seen anything like it before. I was six. Solo said everything would be okay. Then he started to cough. He told me everything would be okay. And then he started to bleed. Solo said everything would be okay. And then he couldn't walk anymore.
Solo told me everything would be okay.
I believed Solo.
He never lied to me.
I found out about the vaccine to the plague. Some older people were arguing about it, saying how it wasn't fair for the government to keep that shit locked up. Dizzy? Me, too. Can't stand all the bodies in the street. What were we, lab rats for them to experiment on? You're looking really pale. Do you know how many people have died? Oh my god... you've got it, too!
So I went to the place. Broke in. Their security sucked. I carried as many of those little bottles as I could. Solo said everything would be okay. When I got back to the alley that was our home, I shoved the little vials into as many hands as could still reach for them. I saved one though. I saved it for Solo. He was coughing something awful, red blotches of blood splattering across his hands and shirt and the ratty blanket that I had managed to snag to keep him warm in.
I gave the bottle to him.
It was small... tiny, really. That little vial that could save lives was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. It was filled with a shimmery amber liquid, the same color as Solo's eyes. I told Solo that it would make him better. It was medicine. All he had to do was take it and he'd get better. Everything would be okay. You'll get better, Solo! Really! Honestly!
So take it!
Please?
I don't know if he heard me.
I almost broke the glass bottle in my haste, ripping off the sanitized cap and pouring the thin liquid into Solo's throat, hoping that he'd swallow the stuff and not cough it up. Solo was quiet for a very long time. He didn't cough anymore. His amber eyes blinked at me through the cover of his dirty dishwater blond bangs and he smiled. He smiled for me.
"Ya done good, Kid. Real good."
"Everything will be okay. Really. Honestly."
"Yeah, Kid. Everything will get better. Hell, it can't get *worse*."
"You're... you're not gonna leave me, are ya, Solo?"
"Nah, Kid. Nah. Ain't never gonna leave ya. Why the hell are ya asking that for? Haven't I took care of ya since I found ya?"
"Yeah, Solo. Yeah. Me and you. Forever."
"Hell yeah. Man, Kid... we gotta get you an name. It's messin' me up ta call ya ‘Kid' all the time."
"Can't I be Solo, too?"
"Nah, Kid. You can't have my name. You need one of your own."
Everything was going to be okay.
Solo started to cough again. Solo. Solo. What's wrong? Why are you... no, Solo! No! You can't, you can't! You promised me! Don't lie to me, Solo! Don't lie! You said it would be you and me forever! Yeah, Kid. Forever. I'll always be with you. Solo. Solo. SOLO!!!
"If Solo is always with me, then we'll be Duo."
Solo. You lied.
Wait.
Sorry about that.
Was that too much information again?
-- Owari --