Disclaimer:
Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me. This song belongs to Bryan Adams, I beleive.
Enjoy!
------------------------------------------------------
Shi-chan: Oh yesssss...plenty of Outlaw Star is enough to make me want to write
all night! Well, that and reading my reviews. Yessss...I will write another 2x5
one-shot, heheheh...oh yes...MUAHAHAHAHAHA! Yes, you see what I'm like now, I
get two e-mails from people who liked "Condition Unstable," and now
I'll be writing 2x5 for the rest of the week! Must...write...2x1...arrrrrg!
Noooooo! 2x5! 1! 5! 1!
Seki: That's it, I'm taking over! From here on in it's a 2x4!
Quatre & Duo: Noooooooo!
------------------------------------------------------
Enough For Now
By Shimegami-chan
Warnings: I wasn't kidding, it's 2x4. Shounen-ai, etc, etc...
Music: "It's My Life," from Card Captor Sakura. Anybody know where to
get the lyrics to this?
^^^(From now on I'm going to tell you what I'm listening to while I wrote the
fic, sometimes it'll help you get the feeling of the fic if you have the song
too)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Um, yeah. In case nobody's noticed I read my reviews
obsessively, but nobody's ever asked me to write a 2x4. I just felt like
it.
Seki: Helloooo, I'm the muse here, I told you to write it.
Shi-chan: Shut up you. On with the fic!
I see beyond these closed lids, through the darkness around me. I don't dare
turn on a light lest I stir him from his sleep, but would that be so wrong? He
tosses and turns as though running from something or someone.
Should I go in?
Should I wake him?
I can't stand to watch him in any sort of pain, my heart aches for this
chestnut-haired boy who calls me in my dreams. I dare not rest until he's at
peace.
There's no one around to see. Even if anyone did, they wouldn't suspect
anything amiss. He won't suspect anything amiss, even though we both know his
feelings deep down. He holds them out for me on that unconscious plane, and I
am happy to accept; despite the silence that passes between us by day. Someday,
we can fix that.
I nudge the door open a little further. Yes, I'm going in now; I'm coming to
you. Where does your pain come from, Duo? Your past? Our hideous war at present?
Or a future none of us might ever have? I'm here to help you, if you'll have
me.
The touch of my hand on his brow is enough to make his face relax, and I smile
as a bit of his pain fades. Can it be that I am the cause of his happiness?
This violet-eyes angel whose glance is enough to make me smile, whose laugh is
enough to bring joy to the entire earth? Perhaps my perception of him has been
addled after all; Rashid daily wonders who this girl is that I am so 'smitten,'
with. I tell him nothing and everything with my smile and laugh; no, not a girl
at all, just...someone. It's not important to the task at hand, my friends and
my love. But when the day is done and the killing subsides I am left with my
uneasy thoughts and pleasant dreams.
Sometimes I wonder if Duo remembers those dreams, sometimes it's difficult to
tell whether they belong to him or me. Maybe both. These nightmares that
torment him must be his alone; a world of fire and death and a indigo-eyed
child sobbing amid the ruins of place he once called home. My own nightmares
are so much subtler, just shadows and eyes, and darkness everywhere I turn. It
frightens me, but those nightmares have ceded and given way to pleasant dreams
since I met him. Dreams where I hold my friends close and there is no war to
bring our lives crashing down, where he and I sit together to watch the
sunrise, we dance to the music of our dreams, we hold each other close in the
night and know neither fear nor death. Where he can call himself something
besides Death, as alluring and mysterious as the title is, and be no one but
Duo; and I am not the son of a wealthy businessman with a lonely friendless
past, I'm just Quatre. Just a lost little boy who has been found and loses and
finds himself time and again in those violet eyes.
I brush his bangs back from his face and he is so warm to the touch, bringing
fire to my fingertips. I can feel the nightmares receding at my presence.
"Quatre," he whispers, but I know his awareness is clouded by sleep.
Is he waiting for me?
I slip from the room and slide back into my own bed, hoping against hope that
he'll still be there when I close my eyes. Haze surrounds me and then...am I
dreaming? It's so hard to tell any more, as I rise from the bed and look up
curiously.
...there he is, standing with his eyes downcast, shuffling his feet. He looks
like a little chastised child who's broken an expensive vase. "Duo?"
I call.
"Quatre!" His eyes brighten and he smiles warmly, genuinely, not a
carefully constructed mask but a look that radiates innocence and brilliance.
He's brilliant, he shines so much that tears come to my eyes.
He rushes into my arms. "Gomen. I had a bad dream."
I hug him tightly, unable to hide my smile. "Aa. Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He sighs and puts his head on my shoulder. "I'm
fine."
"I'm glad." I silently hope that the warm body I hold in my arms is
as real as he seems, is as real as the sweet dreams that I treasure every
night. Seeing him is enough for me, for now. His indigo eyes glisten with tears
and I imagine him again as the small child outside the church, on his knees and
praying for the souls Shinigami paid to end this war that tortures us. I wonder
if his own soul was one of the sacrifices made, but it is that soul that shines
within him now. Time stands still--I fleetingly wish to be locked in this dream
forever, but we must move on.
He's not shaking anymore, I've noticed, and I slowly lead him back out to his
room. I still cannot tell if we're still enfolded in the bond of sleep anymore,
of if either will remember these happenings in the morning. Still, tomorrow we
continue to fight the good fight, and perhaps someday end this war with both
our souls still intact. Shinigami will fight on because he's needed, and I will
fight for him and the other pilots and for peace, because no others need to go
through what we've been through.
They say he's optimistic. Then again, he's not like them, is he? His broken
mask hides even another, and peeking out is the real Duo Maxwell, the one that
not even I know. Under the pain and guilt is laughter and mirth and sparkle,
and I pray that his daily facade is just a fraction of the joy and love buried
under all that pain. I think I'm more optimistic, just not as blatant. Where he
has hope, I have faith; and the combination someday will bring us all to
justice.
He doesn't speak, although I sense the words he wants to say. It's time for the
dream to end and reality to begin again.
I'm okay with that, I think. Another day brings us one step closer to the peace
we yearn for, and the release we need. He has his hope. I have my dreams.
And that's enough for now.
----------------------
Shi-chan: Ooh, fluffy! Okay, you're doing all the writing from now on.
Seki: *sigh* Listen, lady, I'm the muse, not the author here. Do it yourself.
Shi-chan: You're my split personality, Miss High-And-Mighty. I created
you.
Seki: Hmmph!