Part Four:

 They took me home, like Wufei had promised.  And I kept my end of the
bargain. I didn't try to kill myself.  But the three of them wouldn't let
me in the kitchen.  Go figure.

Quatre got us all enrolled in a highschool, a really preppy boarding school with dorms and a mess hall.  It waspretty cozy, and probably took a bundle of loot to get us in.  Quatre and
Trowa got roomed together, obviously, and Wufei paid the extra money for a
private room.  I had a joined room, but no one was actually crazy enough to
want to sleep in the same room as me for more than a week, so I had the
room more or less to myself.

 The best part was that it was far away from Heero's grave.  Not that it
was really his grave, there wasn't a body or anything there.  Being away
from the fake grave kind of reminded me that he was out there somewhere,
and that I'd be with him again someday.  And though I had promised Wufei I
wouldn't go on a wild goose chase, I could still think about it.  If Heero
didn't want to be found, I wouldn't have a chance.  And it was obvious he
didn't want to be caught, or else he would have tried to come back on his
own, right?

 Right.  But there was still this lingering thought in the back of my mind.
What if it wasn't that he didn't want to come home, but that he couldn't?
Or that he had gone home, but we had already left for this stupid school?
I couldn't help but wonder about that.  I had tried to talk to Wufei about
it, but he had only looked at me funny and gone back to doing his homework.

 Quatre and Trowa were too involved in their increasingly obvious romance
to really notice that I was still lingering on the past, so I didn't even
try to bring it up with them.  Besides, they still felt guilty about not
telling me sooner and had a hard time meeting my eye.

 My dorm room was pretty cool, for a school.  It was fairly big, with two
single beds, two matching dressers, a walk-in closet, and a private
bathroom.  The carpet was dark green, and the walls were a kind of tan
color.  There was a balcony, too, with kinky green lawn chairs on it.  It
all matched, which I wasn't too thrilled about, but it had a kind of cozy,
dreamy quality that made it easy to sleep at night, with a few exceptions.

 We had been at the school for about three months when I had the first nightmare.
 It started out okay.  It was me, in a field, scythe in hand, searching for
something I had lost on the ground.  I wasn't sure what I was looking for,
which only made it harder.  Suddenly, in that magical way dreams have of
messing with your mind, I was in the graveyard, by Heero's empty grave.
But in my dream, I just knew it wasn't empty anymore.  I picked up a
shovel, which just happened to be lying on the ground, and started to dig.
 Back-breaking, hard, sweaty labor.  My dream-self was hurting, I could
feel that, and the partially healed twin scars on my wrists had opened up,
and were bleeding again.  But I still kept digging, until I hit something
hard.  The coffin.  I had to pry open the lid with my fingers, and they
started to bleed before I was even half of the way through.  And I still
kept going.

 When the lid was finally off, I stuck a bleeding finger into my mouth, and
peered into the casket.  There was a body in there, flesh still sticking to
the bones, features barely visible.  Heero's body.  But there was something
different.  My cross, the silver one I wore as a good-luck charm, was
hanging around his neck.  I touched the cross with trembling fingers,
feeling the cool smoothness of the metal and the dirt that had worked its
way into the grooves of the cross.

 Then the corpse moved, like it was sighing in its sleep.  I recoiled,
pulling my hand away, but Heero grabbed it, holding it in his death grip,
which held me still, frozen to the spot.  The eyes opened, and they were
Heero's eyes, the deep pools of Prussian blue that were just as cold as
they were in life.  But the corpse looked at me, and at my captive wrist,
and began to cry.

 "Even in life I am dead," he rasped between sobs, "and in death I live."
He continued crying, wet tears falling down his decaying cheeks.  The blood
from my arms and from my fingers fell onto his body, and he stared at the
little puddles of human juice.  "Even in death I live," he said again,
softer this time, and without the tears. Heero sat up, still holding my
wrist tightly, and then he screamed.

 I woke up with a gasp, his scream echoing in my ears.  I shut my eyes and
breathed deeply.  I was back in my dorm, it had only been a dream.  But
then I made the mistake of looking down at my arms.  They were bleeding,
and so were my fingers.  I cursed and ran into the bathroom, washing the
blood away and trying to bandage them by myself.  That dream was still
vivid in my mind, and I couldn't help but think that there was a message I
was supposed to get from it.  Needless to say, I didn't get much more sleep
that night.

 School the next day went by slower than usual. It was the same old stuff
as always.  Boring teachers, even more boring lectures, and yet another lab
in science where the teacher wouldn't let me have a Bunsen burner.

Chemistry is only interesting when it's hands on. When you have to sit back
and watch everyone else playing with potentially lethal substances, it just
sucks.  You'd think that after a month or two they'd start to let me
participate again, but no, the teacher was being a jerk. I mean, jeez, his
eyebrows had grown back okay.

 Chem was my last class of the day, but probably the worst.  I think I had
gotten one passing grade in that class, a C, and that had only been because
I remembered to put my name on the test paper.  They give you points for
the stupidest stuff sometimes!  Anyway, while I was watching my classmates
(the guys all happened to be in my chemistry class, no such luck for math
or history, other classes I wasn't doing so well in) play with fire and
acids that could burn your hand off with one wrong move, I started thinking
the dream.  I tend to tilt my chair back on two legs when I think, which
really used to annoy Heero, so none of the guys were surprised when they
heard my chair fall to the ground and my angry shout.  It was the rest of
the class that turned to stare at me.

 I ignored them, and went back to thinking.  What was the dream telling me?
Even in life I am dead, and in death I  live?  What did that mean?  I
started to wonder if it was a message from beyond the grave.  No, that was
stupid.  It had to be something else.  I stared around the room, at all the
people who had turned back to the little blue flames and beakers of sulfuric
acid.   I tried to clear my mind and think of the other possibilities, but
the thought just kept nagging at the back of my mind.   I couldn't think of
any other solutions.

 The bell rang, and students dumped their foaming and hazardous equipment
into the sink.  All but Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei, who always worked slowly
and felt the need to finish what they started.  Wufei was working alone,
the solitary dragon.  I used to be his lab partner, but when I attempted to
dye his little pony tail blue with the copper nitrate, he had decided it
was time to discuss a few things with the teacher.  I had the feeling Wufei
was also influencing the teacher's anti-Duo policy, but I wasn't about to
accuse him of it.  I wasn't supposed to be suicidal anymore, after all, and
I didn't have a death wish at the moment.

 But I hung around after chemistry just to wait for them to finish up.  I
wanted to talk to Wufei for a second, and there was an hour of free time
before dinner.  I had plenty of time, as long as I didn't feel like doing
homework.  Not that I ever turned in my homework anyway.  I did do it, on
occasion, usually those few times I managed to steal Quatre's notebook, but
I couldn't ruin my perfect record by turning in an assignment!  School was
only supposed to make us work doing school hours, not after class, and
definitely not during my favorite TV shows.

 It bothered me a little, that the teachers had stopped caring about my
work.  But that was just another thing people got used to, I guess.  Like I
had started getting used to the way people look really scared whenever they
first found out we were Gundam pilots, or the way we were avoided by the
most of the other students.  We had our own little group, and we stayed init.

 When Wufei had finally finished boiling zinc with sulfuric acid to produce
copper, Quatre and Trowa had already left for their dorm, probably to do
both tonight and tomorrows homework.  Wufei came up to me, glaring.  He had
spilled some of the zinc solution on his hand, and it had turned an
interesting shade of pink.  Needless to say, he wasn't thrilled.

 "What is it with this class and copper?  Every experiment we do involves
copper," Wufei grumbled.  I got the feeling that it was the copper in the
zinc solution that was making his skin react like that.

 "It's because copper is a highly reactive metal, and it isn't all that
dangerous.  And because it has a high conductivity level, so that you don't
have to spend so long heating it under a Bunsen burner," I told him,
standing up and shoving all my stuff into his bag.  I wasn't about to waste
energy carrying them myself, and Wufei was too preoccupied with his pink
hand to notice.  Sometimes a zinc-copper solution comes in handy, though it
probably burns like Hell.

 "So you do actually learn something in this class.  Congratulations, Duo,"
Wufei said, giving me the closest thing he ever does to a smile.  It was
kind of a hybrid of a smirk and a scowl. I gave him my best death glare,
and he laughed.

 "I already knew that, thanks to Deathscythe's numerous mechanic problems."
The twisted smile again.  "Hey, Wu-man, do you believe in ghosts?"

 Wufei stopped and stared at me.  "Have you been drinking again?"

 "There's nothing here to drink!  Except for that crappy wine the cook has
in the bottom cabinet of the pantry," I told him thoughtfully.  "So no.
I'm serious."

 "What do you mean by ghosts?  Memories of those who have left us, or
actual specters?"

 "I'm talking more about ghosts sending us messages through our dreams."
 "No."  Wufei shook his head.  "I don't believe in ghosts."

I nodded at him.

 "Oh"  I was a bit disappointed about that answer.  "Does this school have
a library?"

"Of course.  Didn't you know that?"

 "No.  I didn't think I'd need to use it." I told him with a grin. The
memory of Heero's scream came back to me, and I shivered. Wufei gave me a
funny look.

 "I'll show you.  This way."  Wufei started heading back in the direction
we had just came from.  He looked back at me.  "Where are your books?"  I
didn't bother answering that, just grinned and walked faster.  He shook his
head.  "And what happened to your arms?"

 I pretended not to hear.  "So, where is this library you were talkingabout?"
 "By the music room.  Why do you need to know where it is?  Do you have a
project you actually intend on turning in?"

 "No, just doing some background research on something," I told him
truthfully.  I actually intended to find out everything I ghosts and
interpreting dreams.  Wufei might not believe in ghosts, but I need proof
before I do or don't believe in anything.

Part five is coming soon!  Stay tuned, because it's going to get better!
Oh, and I'd like to give a lot of thanks to my friend Kage, who has helped
me through this one!  She's the best!  Anyway, tell me what you think at
[email protected], I love to receive feedback!  Ja ne!

~*Hawk*~