Intentions of Time
Part 3 - The Past
by 0083
It was never a question of who they were, just what
they were. I sit in my office and wonder for the
thousandth time, just who is the Mission? They came
out of nowhere thirteen years ago and their only
objective seems to be destruction of the earth. I
can’t figure out why they want us dead and gone so
badly. Just what was it about the earth that made
them attack us and then stick around for all these
years just looking for a chance to obliterate us? I
have been in this war against the Mission the longest
and I haven’t even seen the Mission’s people. I can’t
even say if they are people. Do they look like us?
Or do they look like a creation of the science fiction
writers, all slimy and green with big buggy eyes and
tentacles? What if the Mission was nothing but a big
machine that destroyed all planets? My mind leads me
on a merry chase and I can’t come up with answers. My
Talent has not picked up any thoughts when I scan the
skies for movement. That is odd. As I sit here, I
can sweep the earth and hear all sorts of mental
noises, from thoughts to emotions. I can hear the
Fourth grumbling in her mind about the Third’s nasty
habit of leaving the toilet seat up. I can hear
Relena outlining her day in her head. I think Relena
outlines her day in her head everyday. I love that
girl to death, but I think she needs a hobby. Back to
my pondering. So, just what is the Mission? So far,
we know that they have a fortress in space, orbiting
the earth, looking for weak spots. It also houses
innumerable ships for small attacks, has an energy
cannon capable of blowing the earth up in one swift
blow if hit at the right spot.. All anyone knows of
the Mission is the technology. No one knows about who
is behind it. And of course, no one saw fit to
question just where the Mission came from or what it
wanted. It’s easier to brand a faceless enemy as evil
than an actual person. What if they looked like us?
Could we truly call them evil when we have been
killing each other off on this earth for centuries
upon centuries? My question, it seems, will never be
answered. But I will never stop questioning. After
all, it is me who is killing the most of them.
A body lay on the ground quite still, almost too
still. The two kids who happened upon the body in the
alley looked at each other, shrugged and went up to
it. They prodded with their feet, afraid of actually
touching a potentially dead body with their uncovered
fingers. They jumped back in surprise and fear when
the body moaned and got up ever so slowly. Their
mouths gaped open wider when the figure stood to full
height and faced them. It was a man not much taller
than them with the longest hair they’d ever seen
twined into a braid. Deciding that sticking around
the guy was not a good idea, the kids bolted. Duo
looked at the running kids and sighed. He hadn’t
meant to scare them. He just hoped he hadn’t done too
much damage to their psyche. But those kids were not
his concern. He had to figure out exactly what day it
was, where he was, and where the Mission’s agent was.
Gathering his wits quickly, Duo stepped out of the
alley and into the busy street. People were
everywhere and they did not spare him a glance. He
supposed he looked normal enough to the people of the
past. Dressed as he was in his black shirt and pants,
he fit in just perfectly. He was not the First Talent
here, but just an average, normal guy. Quickly, Duo
made his way to a newspaper stand and checked the
date. When he saw the date, he released the breath he
had not realized he had been holding. It was four
days before Heero’s murder. He had time to save his
lover from that terrible fate, a chance to save
himself from the numbing pain. But before he could go
off to protect Heero from the killer, he had to find
that Mission agent. He stood by the newspaper stand
and scanned with his Talent. No matter where the
Mission was, he could find it. His Talent was capable
of searching the entire planet and the surrounding
space, reaching out to the colonies. And no one knew
what the Mission felt like better than he did. Even
though he had never directly felt the sentient being
behind the machines of the Mission, he knew for
certain that the agent would have Mission technology
on him or her. He only needed to pinpoint that
signature and then materialize wherever it was. One
Mission agent was no match for him who was capable of
annihilating thousands of their advanced warships with
a single blast from his mind. Disposing of the agent
would take seconds and then he would have the rest of
the time free to defend Heero. Look at him again
after twenty long years. Feeling his heart contract
at the thought, Duo intensified his search field. His
Talent roamed the earth and space, looking for that
unique mental feel that was the Mission. Five minutes
of intense searching, he found it. It was maybe three
thousand miles from where he was now, but distance did
not matter when he could just materialize. He smiled.
The agent would be dead shortly.
“Hey, buddy, you gonna buy something or what?”
Duo glanced at the vendor who was eyeing him with
distrust. Shrugging his shoulders, Duo sauntered away
from the newspaper stand and walked into the alley
where he had woken up. After making sure that no one
was watching, Duo phased out.
I need some water. Desperately. But I can’t move
from my bed right now, I’m too weak. My limbs won’t
move when I tell them to move. I can hardly open my
eyes to locate that water pitcher. Just where are all
my nursemaids when I need them? Although, I guess
Quatre and the guys don’t want me calling them
nursemaids. But I need water. I’m so thirsty. I
turn my head and try to focus my eyes on the water
pitcher. To my blurred perspective, it seems that
there are maybe four pitchers wobbling on five tables,
but that can’t be right. I must be more sick and out
of it than I thought. I have no idea how long I’ve
been here in this bed. I don’t know what time it is,
what day it is, hell, not even what year it is. I
only know two things for certain. One, I’m in dire
need of liquid. Two, Heero is dead. I feel the tears
welling up again and I try to blink them back. Crying
always makes me nauseous and I don’t want to throw up
on top of being thirsty. I concentrate on making my
body move. I command my jelly like legs to shift, but
it’s as if my legs are not mine. They do nothing
while I scream in my head at them to do something. I
think I do this for a while before I finally give up.
Naturally, my thoughts turn to Heero again. Heero.
It’s like a nightmare. Part of me is convinced that I
am in a terrible dreamscape, that I did not see my
lover dead. But I would be a coward if I denied the
truth. My lover is dead. I found his blood, still
dripping from the walls. Whoever killed him had shown
no mercy. I want to find that killer and make him
pay. I want to do things to him that would make
others sick to their stomachs. I want the killer to
feel the awful pain that I’m feeling, the pain that
Heero must have felt. Sure, I’m delirious and ill to
boot now, but once I get well, I’m going to make sure
I find the killer and kill him. I said once I get
well. What happened to my need to die? Didn’t I want
to slink off into the darkness and hide from all the
pain and misery? But if I did that, how can I avenge
Heero? I can’t. I suppose I have to live, if only
for revenge. Heero would say that my reason to live
isn’t the right one because life is beautiful. He
would tell me to forget about vengeance, don’t let it
stain my soul. For now, though, I’m going to use the
murderous rage rising in me to propel me back into
life. It will keep me going until something else
replaces the rage. If something ever does. Still,
I’m thirsty as hell. Vengeance and rage won’t do me
any good if I die from dehydration, now will it. I
wonder if Quatre left a bell I could ring to call
them. I look around and see nothing to help my
predicament. Well, I guess it’s up to me to get
myself some water. Besides, I hate being helpless.
Now that I’m conscious and thinking somewhat clearly,
I should be able to get myself water. Yes. So I roll
over somehow, moaning in pain, trying to position
myself in the best angle possible to get out of the
bed. I see the water pitcher which is only maybe
three feet away. If I take a small step out of the
bed and stretch my arm out, I should be able to get
it. But my planning goes awry when my legs refuse to
support me and I flop rather gracelessly onto the
floor, face first. I just hope I didn’t break my nose
with my landing. I think the water is taunting me,
just out of reach, glistening with beaded condensation
on the side. This reminds me of some old myth I
learned about back in a boarding school Heero and I
hid out in all those years ago. Something about a guy
standing in a river and every time he bent to drink,
the water would run from him. I know how that guy
feels now. I can’t move again. I must have used my
energy up getting out of bed. Frustrated and
embarrassed by my situation, I just curse the water.
How dare it taunt me in my time of need? Just barely
out of my reach? Just what the hell did it think it
was? I realize that my thought pattern is jumbled and
outright ridiculous at this point. I’m yelling at a
pitcher of water in my mind. But what else can I do?
So I continue to yell at the water and it culminates
with me telling it to get over here if it knew what
was good for it. As soon as I say that in my head, I
laugh at the sheer idiocy of it all until I feel a
cold splash on my face. I open my eyes to see the
water pitcher, lying next to my face, all of its
contents spilled on my head and pooling beneath me.
I’m too thirsty to ponder how the pitcher ended up
next to me. I just tilt my head and lap at the water
on the floor before my pajamas soak up all the
moisture.
The Mission signature fluctuated every now and then,
almost like the machine was malfunctioning. But that
did not deter Duo from tracking it down, following its
trail like a bloodhound after a wounded rabbit. He
was getting closer. It was midmorning in this
particular city and everyone was busy. People in
suits walked to their offices, children ran to their
respective schools. A few early morning shoppers were
buying things that had no purpose other than to
collect dust and tourists clicked pictures of each
other. Duo paid them no mind as he walked briskly,
still on the hunt. He avoid contact with most people
by dodging around them, trying not to alert anyone in
this time that he was somehow different. But he did
not realize that people were already wary of him. His
violet eyes held a fierce light that did not belong in
this peaceful era and his purpose radiated from him.
Subconsciously, the people got out of his way, afraid
of him in an instinctual level. Even in the past when
no one knew Duo’s true power, people could not help
but feel awe and fear near his presence. He was
getting closer to the Mission, the feel of it stronger
with every step. Then suddenly, the Mission’s
signature vanished and reappeared about five miles
further away from him.
‘Tricky bastard. Think you can shake me, do you?’
Angry that the Mission had made him, Duo forewent his
plan to blend with the populace and phased out in the
middle of the busy street, leaving behind people who
looked bewildered and shocked.
The Talent is a mystery still. I use it daily and
I still don’t know what it is. Even the Second who is
by far the most logical of us, can’t seem to figure
out where the power comes from. We all know how to
release it, make it do what we want, but no one can
say what kind of power it is. The scientists are
working on quantifying it. I suppose they need
something to do since trying to figure out what made
us Talents was a busted experiment. I hear all kinds
of theories, but not one of them sound right. I
wonder if they come up with the right explanation I’ll
feel it in my guts or something. I laugh harshly,
shaking my head at my thoughts. Somehow, I keep
asking myself question that have no answers. Who are
we, what is the Talent, who is the Mission. And one
final question that I always ask myself, the question
that never leaves me, why couldn’t I come home just a
little earlier to save Heero that day? I know the
killer had murdered Heero shortly before I opened that
door. I know, because the blood was still trickling
down the walls and hadn’t had a chance to congeal.
Why couldn’t I have just come home earlier? Why did I
do things that day the way I did? My head knows that
Heero’s death is not my fault. My head can lay down
thousand and one reasons why I couldn’t have saved
him. But when I sleep and dream, I blame myself. I
watch as Heero is torn apart, unable to move or make a
sound. Not my fault. Not my fault. But isn’t it? I
shake my head and grimace. I don’t have time for
unanswerable questions, not by far. I can feel the
Mission moving about, most likely getting ready for
their bimonthly attack. This time, it feels like they
are going to come at us from South America. Not that
it matters. We can defend any surface from any place.
That’s another thing I don’t get. How can we use our
Talent to protect places that are so far away? I
don’t even know what South America looks like, not
really. I think I was there once or twice, hiding out
with my Deathyscythe. But I don’t know its geography,
landscape or its finest export. Yet still, I can
reach there with my Talent. It is not like the
science fiction novels I’ve read at all, my Talent.
All those authors who imagined humanity with greater
powers had one thing in common. In the matter of
defense, in phasing, in moving from one place to
another using a power, the character was required to
have knowledge of the place. As in, the authors built
it in that knowledge was the basis for the power, that
knowing where you are and where you are going were
essential. Not to us. I can use my Talent without
seeing, without moving, sometimes without waking up.
It’s practically independent from me. Oh hell, I
don’t know. Enough of my rambling. I have an earth
to defend.
The signature had reappeared in the suburbs and Duo
found himself stalking his prey through manicured
lawns and cookie cutter homes. There were no children
out, they were all at school. Adults were working in
the city or elsewhere and so it was eerily empty. Duo
was grateful for that. He was berating himself for
just phasing out where everyone could see him, but he
had not wanted to lose his quarry by delaying. That
sudden vanishing had kept him on alert as well as the
sudden shift in locale. Had the Mission created a
technology that could transport a person, much like
his Talent could phase him? If that were the case,
this chase would take longer than he would want.
Calculating that possibility into account, Duo
followed the fresh mental scent of the Mission. He
was maybe four hundred yards behind and catching up
fast. Since the Mission apparently knew that he was
here, there was no need for subtlety. Just some
stalking. Obvious stalking to draw out the Mission
bastard into open space and then blast him to uneven
pieces with the Talent. So far, it seemed to be
working. Duo was getting closer and closer,
practically on top of the Mission. But his eyes could
not see anyone while his Talent fairly screamed that
there was a Mission being within ten yards. Duo
followed his Talent rather than his eyes; the Talent
had yet to fail him while his eyes had seen better
days. Nine yards. Seven. Three. Zero yards.
Swiftly looking about, Duo saw that he was standing in
front of a shrub in someone’s yard. A shrub. He felt
ridiculous, like he was a child playing
hiding-go-seek. A shrub. What was the Mission
thinking? Pressing down a stupid urge to pounce and
say ‘gotcha’ to the Mission, Duo peered around the
plant life. And there it was, the Mission.
“Hiding behind bushes did me no good, but every earth
mystery I’ve read has shown this method works.”
The unexpected gambit at conversation startled Duo.
Not only had the Mission spoken, but it had addressed
him in a way and admitted that the Mission had studied
earth and its customs.
“Can’t hide from me. So, should I blast you here or
do you have something else to say?”
Sounding cocky and cold, Duo let the Mission ponder
the choices. Suddenly, the Mission agent turned its
head. Or rather, her head.
“You can’t kill me, First Talent Duo Maxwell.”
Duo did not even hear the words. His head refused to
process any more information than what he saw with his
eyes. It could not be. It should not be.
“Hilde?”
The Seventh asked me today if I had ever lost
anyone dear to my heart. She’s a sweet girl, perhaps
the most innocent of the Six, but even she can cross
the lines of proper conduct sometimes. I think
everyone knows that I lost the one most dear to me.
Hell, haven’t we all? The Second still mourns the
death of his sister like I do Heero. Sure, he never
cries or pounds his fists into the wall, but I can see
it in his eyes. I can see it when he touches that
small ring on his pinky finger. The ring that had
belonged to his sister. The seven of us has all lost
the dearest ones in our lives, either to the Mission
or just to freak accidents. Or in my case, a
gruesome, unforgivable act of murder. Anyway, I’m
just sitting here, kind of shaken at the Seventh’s
question. That’s right, I’m shaken. Why? Because
the question made me think. I realized that when I
remember others that I lost over the years, I don’t
feel their loss like I do Heero’s. That’s not really
fair. Especially to one person in particular who
loved me more than anyone else in her life. Hilde. I
don’t think about her at all most of the times, but
this time I do. We met under unusual circumstances,
but I think I met all of my friends like that. Hilde,
at one point, had a gun pointed at my head and was
against me. Come to think of it, I met many of my
friends by pointing a gun at them or having them point
one at me. But I’m pretty sure that I’m the only one
who shot their true love twice. Can’t beat that as a
first date! Wait, I’m supposed to think about Hilde
now. Give her some time in my mind. She disappeared
well before Heero died. I think I broke her heart
when I told her Heero was the love of my life and that
although she and I would be best friends, we would
never be lovers. Shortly after, she was gone. No
goodbyes or anything. She just vanished. So I wonder
where she could be. How she is. I can’t find her
with my Talent so most likely she’s dead or something,
but I am going to have hope. I’ve lost so many people
already that I refuse to believe that she’s lost to
me, too. And you know what? It would have comforted
me and calmed me if she had been there for me when
Heero died. She was, I mean, she is my best friend.
Still. Even if I don’t think about her, even if I
don’t know where she is, I know that if she ever came
around again, we could talk like we never parted.
That’s what best friends do, right? And so I sit
still, thinking about the one person who I do not
think about. Hilde. The dark haired, blue eyed pixie
shadow of a best friend who deserted me over a heart
break. The courageous, persistent soldier who defied
all odds to bring us the information from Libra. My
least thought about friend. The least dearest to my
heart. And somehow, even now, the one person I miss
the most besides Heero. I have to get to sleep I
think. I’m not making any sense, even to me.
The scene was frozen in time. The unnatural stillness
was dominated by a pair of shocked and disbelieving
violet eyes contending for dominance against a pair of
cold, determined blue eyes. Neither heard the
chirping birds or the distant noises of cars. They
only saw each other.
“Hilde. But it can’t.. I mean.. how..”
Duo was lost for words. He who never lost composure
in front of others had been caught like a deer in
headlights. If he could have, he would have gathered
his thoughts and given the situation at hand an
analytical and logical explanation. But he could not.
All he saw was a girl who could not be a part of the
Mission.
“I am not Hilde. You mistake me, First Talent Duo Maxwell.”
The unreality of the situation worsened with that
statement. Duo felt as if he was falling through an
endless tunnel. The Hilde who was not Hilde. Nothing
could have prepared him for this moment.
“Not.. Hilde..”
The words finally sank in and made sense. His shock
subsided as he truly saw the being in front of him.
Yes, it looked like Hilde, identical in every way.
The fall of the hair, the gleaming eyes, the small
scar on her chin. But it was not Hilde. No. The
being in front of him looked like Hilde had just
before she disappeared. The Mission agent looked like
a girl from twenty years past.
“The fuck? What the hell is going on?”
The Mission agent shrank back at the cold rage in
Duo’s voice. She had never heard such a threatening
and serious voice, not even from her legion commander.
For twenty years against the earth, her legion
commander had told her of the ferocious and
frightening warrior named the First Talent. For
twenty years, she had scoffed in the back of her mind,
equating the lowly earthling leader with the black oil
that greased her machines. But as she faced him, his
darkened violet eyes flaring into hers, she truly
understood why her whole race had been so afraid of
this one man. She finally saw how the humans had won
the war with this man at the forefront.
“So you’re not Hilde. Just a big, fucking coincidence
that you look like her, is that it? Well, since you
are no friend of mine, killing you should be just
easy.”
Duo took a menacing step forward and smiled almost
cruelly when the Mission agent took a step away from
him. He opened up his Talent and felt the power
pulsating just beneath his skin, waiting for him to
strike. One thought and she would be gone.
“Look, stop! You can’t kill me! I have a mission that I cannot fail!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Duo growled, “I have a mission, too.
Kill you. Whatever you’re going to do is not going to
be good for the earth. Not by a long shot.”
“Don’t I get even a chance to stop the annihilation of my entire race?” she shouted desperately.
“No. It’s either your race or mine. I pick us.”
“Doesn’t the name Heero Yuy mean anything to you?”
Duo stopped cold in his steps. His eyes frosted and
his frame shook from barely contained rage. The
Mission agent imagined that one wrong step and she
would die painfully and mercilessly.
“What the hell do you know about Heero?”
Duo’s question, which had started in such a soft
whisper of a sound, escalated into a full bodied shout
by the end. His dead lover’s name echoed in the
unnamed suburbs, the rage and blinding pain coating
every bounce of his hollowed out voice. Without
warning, Duo lunged and grasped the Mission by her
throat and squeezed, his powerful hands crushing into
the larynx.
“What do you know?” Duo said again as he banged her head into the pavement.
“What do you know?” Duo said as he tightened his grip until her face turned a ghastly purple.
“What.” The Mission agent’s head bounced against the
concrete.
“Do.” Duo threw her almost limp body into a tree.
“You.” He picked her up with his Talent and began to shake her.
“Know.” He dropped her battered body onto the ground.
With cold unfeeling eyes, Duo watched the Mission as
she shakily got to her feet, leaning against the tree
to maintain her fragile balance. She coughed once,
then twice, spitting up what he assumed was blood.
The thick liquid that came from her mouth was not red,
not like his, not like a human’s. It was a sickly
yellow color, glistening and almost oily. It only
affirmed that she was not Hilde and fueled his anger
further.
“What does your mission have to do with Heero?”
His deadly tone demanded an answer. A truthful,
complete answer.
“We..” The Mission coughed again and held her throat in her hands.
“Tell me or I kill you so slowly you’d beg for death.”
The Mission knew that he meant it, that it was not an
idle threat. Desperately trying to make her throat
work, she forced the coughing to stop.
“Look, First Talent,” she said softly in a scratchy
voice, “I don’t know why, but Heero Yuy is the one who
can stop the destruction of my people.”
She paused and took a breath, scrunching her face in
pain. Duo watched with confusion and distrust in his
eyes, unwilling to believe what she would say next.
“It is my mission to make sure Heero Yuy does not
die.”
I look up at the night sky, looking for the stars
that Heero used to love. A long time ago, my love
would stand in our backyard at night, just looking at
the stars. His eyes reflected the myriad of stars in
the sky and I could see the constellations in them.
To me, Heero’s eyes were the universe. Now, when I
see the sky, I don’t see Heero’s eyes. Now, I see the
countless blinking lights that belong to the Mission
and the giant blob of amorphous light that is their
fortress. The Mission even manages to ruin my
memories. The dark cobalt blue with thousands upon
thousands of tiny specks of light used to remind me of
Heero’s eyes. It used to remind me of how Heero would
point out a cluster of stars and insist to me that
they made a shape. I can still hear his annoyed
laughter when I told him that no matter how hard I
looked, the stupid Ursa Major looked like a giant pot
instead of a great bear. But not when I look up at
the sky these days. No more Heero, just the Mission.
Not only did the Mission destroy my home, my planet
and the peace I worked for so hard, it destroyed my
precious memories of Heero. It intruded into things
that remind me of my love. It makes me mad, so mad
that I can feel the tears gather. Heero died once
already. I lost his body, his touch and his corporeal
form to a vicious killer. Now, I’m losing the
memories of him, the most precious thing I have left,
to a rude intruder. The Mission scattered in the
night sky killed the universe that I saw in Heero’s
eyes. The Mission blew up every colony that Heero and
I spent time on. Heero and my house, it’s long gone
from one of their blasts. My car that he gave to me,
gone. Our pictures, our mementos, all gone. The
Mission took all those things from me. The Mission is
killing my Heero, as vicious a killer as the one who
killed him all those years ago. Only this time, it’s
more insidious. This time, they’re erasing him from
me, taking away everything that reminds me of him. I
hate the Mission. I hate every last one of them.
Right now, I want nothing more than to kill them all
with my bare hands. Or with my Talent, which I
suppose is more rational. One day soon, when the
Mission is gone, I want to look at the sky and see the
universe in my lover’s eyes again. I want to see the
stars as they were meant to be. I don’t want to let
someone else kill Heero, not when I can stop them.
The tension and mistrust in the air hung thickly,
almost solid in its virulence. Duo stared at the
Mission agent fixedly, his eyes never leaving her form
in case she tried to run away. They had relocated
from the suburbs to the woods about a mile from where
they had met. There was more privacy and Duo wanted
to be away from people and spectators. That stunt he
had pulled earlier in the middle of the city had not
been the smartest thing he had done. From now on, Duo
was determined to fit in and not do stupid things to
make him suspicious to others. It would only
complicate his goals.
“Before I kill you, I want to hear all about your mission.”
The answer came quickly, almost as if she had been
waiting for him to broach the topic. Ever since she
had blurted out her mission, the First Talent had
become more interested in her than she had hoped. If
talking about it would keep her alive to finish her
mission, she would do so.
“After you hear what my mission is about, you can’t
kill me. I was told that you had an attachment to
Heero Yuy and you would never dream of interfering.”
“How were you so sure that it would be me who
followed? It could have been one of the Six.”
The Mission considered that shortly, angling her head
to look Duo into his eyes. She could still feel her
fear, but at least now, it was tempered by hope.
“We calculated the likelihood that it would be you.
Twenty years in the past, before the time when Heero
Yuy dies. Our time technicians told me that it would
be you by eighty seven point six nine percent.”
“And just when did you plan all this time jumping
crap?”
“It was always our contingency plan if we lost.”
There was silence for a while as Duo contemplated his
next question. The Mission agent sat still, not
wanting to make any sudden movements. The First
Talent would fry her at the first sign of trouble,
whether or not he was curious about her mission. She
had to stay alive.
“Why is saving Heero so damned important to you?”
The Mission hesitated. There was something behind the
tone that made her throat dry with fear.
“I.. I was never told exactly why,” she said
hurriedly when Duo’s eyes darkened, “but it’s
imperative that he lives. He is the key to our
survival.”
A mirthless laugh strangled itself out of Duo’s
throat, twisting his features into a grimace.
“I see. Your mission is to save Heero. I see how
fucking cruel the whole world is. If you save Heero,
you save your race and humanity dies. So by some
damned joke of fate, my mission has to be.. my
mission is.. to kill you.. and.. and..”
The Mission sat silently as the First Talent’s eyes
glistened with unshed moisture and a strange mocking
emotion. She did not make a sound as he suddenly
turned away from her and shouted.
“I HAVE TO WATCH HIM DIE? Is that my fucking mission?
To do nothing as Heero dies? Again?”
Duo punched the tree nearest to him as hard as he
could. He felt the scraping of the bark against his
knuckles and the unsatisfying bit of pain that
followed.
“WHY? WHY? Finally, I have a chance to save Heero.
Finally. And saving him is going to wipe out the
earth? Are you telling me that my choices are
watching my lover die or watching the world die? Is
that it? IS THAT IT???”
The Mission watched with wide eyes as Duo repeatedly
punched the tree. The moisture fell from his eyes in
streams and droplets, splattering onto the ground with
every shake of his body. And for some strange reason,
she felt pity for the destroyer of her people. She
felt sorry for the person responsible for the end of
her world.
“Are you okay?”
Of all things, the Mission had not expected laughter
from the First Talent at her innocent query. But she
was hearing it, a full bellied laugh edged in
bitterness and hysteria.
“Okay? Am I okay? Can you even fathom how wrong that
question is?”
She looked on uncertainly as he stalked up to her in
slow, agitated steps. His hands were fisted and
bleeding, clenched so tightly that she could see every
bone and vein under the thinly stretched skin. She
said nothing as he grabbed her by her shoulders and
yanked her to her feet roughly.
“You are telling me that I have to choose between
Heero and the world. How does that make anything
okay?”
Duo let go of the Mission agent and she slithered to
the ground, her legs no longer able to support her
weight. She stared at the ground beneath her, just
listening to his hitched breathing. She was quite
certain that any moment, she would die. She had to
get away from him before he became too unstable and
lashed out. Slowly, her hand inched towards the
control panel on her right arm, towards the small
button that would transport her from this spot. The
destination was uncertain for this technology had not
been perfected, but it would get her away far enough.
Suddenly, a pair of hands latched onto her wrists and
hauled her up, ruining her chances of escape. She
could not fight the First Talent. She would die.
“Are you going to kill me now.”
The Mission surprised herself with her calm and
collected voice. It did not shake in fear or failure.
“No. I’m not.”
Startled by his answer, the Mission jerked her head up
and found herself staring into deep violet eyes. The
hysteria was gone, replaced by an iron hard
determination. When he spoke, his voice was deadly
serious.
“I’m going to choose Heero.”
There was no sigh of relief from the Mission, but Duo
felt the tension leak out of her system. He would let
her relax. He supposed it would do her or him no good
if he divulged his plan. Yes, he was going to save
Heero. More than that, he was going to decimate the
Mission before they ever got to the earth. He would
destroy the Mission with his Talent before they got
the chance to enter the solar system.
The strong scent of cinnamon is tickling my nose,
making me want to sneeze. Trowa gave me these incense
cones, telling me that they would relax me if I lit
one and just breathed the gentle scent. Well, gentle
scent my ass! This smell is strong enough to wake the
dead from six feet under. For the love of Christ, I
know Trowa meant well, but this is stupid. So I walk
to the little incense burner and pour some water into
the tiny pot, watching as the little cone soak up the
water and burn out. I’m quite sure that Quatre made
Trowa give these to me. Quatre’s been worried lately
because I’ve been so tense. But then again, why
wouldn’t I be? It’s the third week of our young
stalemate and we have not been attacked once as of
yet. And I and the Six had been so sure that as soon
as the barrier went up around the earth, the Mission
would have bombarded us with everything they had. But
so far, nothing. So I’ve been tense, just
anticipating an attack. Whoever it was that said
anticipation killed had it right. After the smell of
cinnamon dissipates, I paddle back to my comfortable
chair and sit. I feel the barrier with my Talent to
make sure there are no holes in it anywhere, just in
case the Mission wants to send us a surprise gift.
Defending the earth is tiring work, even for me. I
get weary of it sometimes and have terrible thoughts
about just letting the damn planet get blown up. But
that won’t do. Heero would never forgive me if I gave
up like that. Heero would have gladly given his life
to defend humanity. Hell, he tried so damn many times
during the war. And isn’t the irony just beautiful,
that he survived war to die in peace. A poet, I am
not. That was Heero. For a guy who never spoke more
words than strictly necessary, he had a way with
putting words on paper. He wrote me poetry sometimes,
you know, just to tell me how he felt. And all those
words, every day words, combined to form images that
just can’t be described by someone like me. I’m
getting lost in my thoughts of Heero again. I do that
a lot. For a while, all I had was vengeance. Before
the Mission came, my mission in life was to find the
evil bastard who killed Heero. But now that I have my
hands full with the Mission, vengeance took a step
back. I still think about finding the killer if he’s
still alive. I think about all the things I can do to
him now with my Talent. I wonder if one day, I’ll
just step outside and run into the killer. Life is
like that, throwing you sharp turns and corners. But
I can’t think about that now. I have to make sure the
earth lives so that Heero won’t be disappointed in me.
Is that pathetic, that I defend the earth because of
a dead man? He’s my inspiration and my strength, even
now. When he and I fought in our gundams together, we
fought for peace, but also we fought for each other.
We made sure that the other came back alive, no matter
what. If I had died during the war, Heero would have
carried on with his missions for me. So I carry on
for him. But you know, if I could, I’d give up
everything to be with him again. I would give up my
power, my Talent, anything within my disposal.
Anything and everything I am I’d give up in an instant
to be with him again. But that’s my selfish side
talking. Selfish and stupidly delusional side. I’m
just going to stop thinking about it and check on the
barrier again. Maybe the Mission will attack soon and
I can stop having dumb ass thoughts.
The first day back in the past had passed and Duo
found himself faced with three days to complete his
mission. The first day had been filled with shocks
and revelations, some of which he still could not
accept fully. The night had been spent in vigil, Duo
keeping an eye on the Mission in case she tried to get
away from him and the Mission staring at Duo to make
sure that he did not kill her in her sleep. It had
been an uneasy night for the both of them, but neither
felt the tiredness or the lack of sleep. The sun was
barely up but the two enemies looked as alert as ever,
constantly watching the other for sudden movements.
“You.”
The Mission narrowed her eyes at his tone. The First
Talent had sounded casual and her studies of the man
had told her that he was the most dangerous when too
casual.
“What.”
A small smile crept its way across Duo’s face before
it disappeared. Her surly answer had been so
reminiscent of Hilde. But this look alike wasn’t
Hilde. That thought brought up another round of
questioning.
“Why do you look like that?”
The Mission gauged his emotionless face and considered
carefully. After the near death beating yesterday at
his hands, she did not want to say anything that could
set him off.
“This is the face and body of one of you humans we found. She was our first encounter.”
A deep sigh echoed in the quiet forest.
“I swear, every time you speak, you have to surprise
the living hell out of me. You’d think after
yesterday, I would be done being surprised, but no.
It keeps on coming.”
Noting that he sounded frustrated and mocking more
than angry, the Mission continued, hoping that her
story would at least make him want to let her go. She
didn’t think it was a big possibility, but the slim
chance was there.
“I had no idea that the human was called Hilde. We
found her in one of your space mobiles more than
twenty of your earth years ago, floating in our sector
of space. We calculated that she fell through the
small wormhole that exists between the fourth and the
fifth planets of your solar system. She was no longer
functioning when we found her, but she was the first.
She was the one that led us to earth.”
Duo chewed on the information in his mind, mulling
over each word and putting some things together. It
made some sort of twisted sense.
“She must have run away after she found out about me
and Heero. She ran straight into death, because of
me.”
There was no response to his voiced thought. The
Mission agent watched as he rambled on, noticing that
he dripped more moisture onto himself as he continued.
“I can’t save anyone dear to me. I can’t even keep
them alive. Hilde. Heero. Trowa. Wufei. All the
people who ever mean anything to me.. dead. Because
of me. Always back to me, isn’t it.”
Duo could no longer speak. The evidence was damning,
so alarmingly clear. He really must be Shinigami as
he had purported. He sat and let his thoughts run
wild, knowing that the Mission was watching, but not
caring.
“First Talent, I have no idea of what you speak, but
the human we found, this person you think is Hilde,
was the reason we sought out your planet. She alerted
us to the presence of your system and your
vulnerabilities. She is the one who gave us our
imperative by showing us your weakness. It is she who
began the war.”
“Yeah,” Duo replied bitterly, “and it was me who sent
her to you. I didn’t only kill my friend. I almost
killed the entire fucking planet. Some savior I am.”
“It is true. You are the center of everything. You
are the key to all events. You are the one who should
be eliminated, but that is not my mission.”
The deadpan voice of the Mission did nothing for Duo’s
inner turmoil and pain. It was true, then, that he
was nothing but the harbinger of death. If anything,
he should have been the target, the murder victim, the
heart broken fool. But no, he was known as the
savior, the survivor, the one who had it all.
“It would be easier, don’t you think, to eliminate me
in the past before I developed the Talent. Isn’t that
the logical thing? To kill me?”
“Do you not listen to anything I say, First Talent? I
told you, we calculated that you would be sent after
us into the past. I don’t think you would have stood
by idle while I killed your past self. But saving
Heero Yuy, that is a goal you would not hinder. We
counted on it and here we are. I’m not dead and you
won’t let Heero die. I would say our plan was
perfect.”
Duo had no arguments for that. He had chosen Heero
and he would not change his mind. But the revelations
heaped upon him hurt. He had killed Hilde, if not
with his hands, then with his words. He had driven
her to outer space where she suffocated or starved to
death and sent her straight into the curious and
malicious arms of the Mission. He was at fault.
Nothing could change that. Right now, at this moment
in the past, the Mission was already on its way.
Hilde was dead. But Heero still lived and he could
save him and destroy the Mission. He smiled inwardly
at his last hope, until the Mission agent spoke and
destroyed his hopes.
“Don’t think you can destroy us before we come to your
solar system, First Talent. We have calculated that
possibility as well. And I will tell you one thing,
you cannot hope to destroy us if you wish to save
Heero Yuy.”
“Stop messing with me,” Duo whispered furiously,
“because I’ve had it. I can blow your kind off the
universe before I save Heero. Or after. Whenever. I
have all the time in the world to do it.”
“It’s not time you should be concerned with, First
Talent, but the twines of history.”
With that cryptic remark, the Mission agent stood and
dusted off her clothes. Signaling to Duo with a
slight tilt of her head, she walked off bravely at a
measured pace towards the edge of the woods. She
could only hope that the First Talent did not hear her
sigh of relief when he followed her instead of
blasting her into molecular pieces.
I think I’m going to die. At least, that’s what my
gut is telling me. It’s not my lunch reasserting
itself, nor is it the lecture I got from Relena about
diplomacy earlier. No. It’s me. I can feel every
particle in my body screaming for release and hear my
mind echo the sentiments. Do I want to die? I think
so. Can I leave this world behind? I can safely say,
yes. Am I ready? Maybe. One more thing to do. Yes,
one more thing I have to do. Then I will die. Am I
wondering if Heero’s waiting for me on the other side?
Yes. Do I know if he will receive me with love? I’m
pretty sure he will. Will I die without regrets? No.
I will die knowing I could have, should have.
The hot tea steamed and fogged the air with pleasant
aromas. The smell was reminiscent of oranges and
spices, a soothing and loving kind of smell. Lovely,
even. But it did nothing for the thrumming tension in
the tiny cubicle of a waiting room. In this prison
like room filled with tiny chairs and tea sat two
figures. Both wore identical frowns of worry and
discomfort overlaid with frustration. Both sipped the
tea at a slow pace, blowing the steam and the heat
away with soft breaths. Neither wanted to speak
first, but finally, the silence was breached.
“It has been a week since Duo returned from the past
and he still hasn’t told us what happened.”
Relena nodded at Quatre’s huffy comment but had
nothing to add. When Duo had returned from his
mission into the past, they had assumed everything had
gone great. After all, the world was still here and
the Mission was still extinct. From those evidences,
they had guessed that Duo had killed that errant
Mission agent and history had not been subverted for
the good of the Mission. Yet, the look on Duo’s face
had been haunting and extraordinarily broken. It had
not been the look of a victorious man. Ever since
then, both Relena and Quatre had been anxiously
waiting for Duo to tell them what had happened twenty
years ago. More specifically, they wanted Duo to tell
them of Heero, if anything had happened between the
two of them.
“It’s clear from our memories and history that
whatever Duo did in the past, Heero was not saved.”
“I know,” Quatre replied in a concerned tone, “and
that bothers me. Don’t you think Duo would have done
everything in his power to save Heero?”
Relena considered for a moment.
“I believe that, Quatre. But think about it. If he
didn’t save Heero from his death, why not? What
happened that Duo did not save the one person he would
have given his life for? What if.. what if Duo had
to.. I mean, he knew Heero was going to die, so what
if..”
“If he just stood by?” Quatre said, not wanting
Relena to suffer by voicing the rest of her thought.
All he received was a timid nod and a pair of teary
blue eyes filled with pain.
“If Duo did not want to do anything to jeopardize the
present, he just may have had to let Heero die.”
The silence fell over the two of them again and their
teas cooled to drinkable temperatures. However, in
the back of their minds, they both had to pity Duo for
the hard choice he must have made.
The Mission chick who looks like Hilde has been
talking non stop for the past few hours. Doesn’t she
run out of spit or whatever equivalent they have? At
least she’s rambling about stuff that I’ve been
curious about for a while. She started talking when I
tried to destroy her arm control panel, the one with
all the funky buttons. I figured it out, you see,
being the clever man that I am, that the arm panel was
the thing responsible for somehow phasing the agent
out. So I tried to fry it with my Talent when she
started having this fit. God, I honestly had no idea
that it would be such a bad thing! But she screamed
and yelled, saying that if I destroyed that, I’d be
killing her too. I wasn’t too adverse to the idea,
killing off the Mission chick, but I guess her looking
like Hilde got to me more than I let it show. When I
stopped firing at her with my Talent, she started
talking. And boy am I getting an insight. According
to her, the Mission is a fusion of machine and
biological cells. Imagine that, being a part of a
machine. Or the other way around. I mean, she is not
a cyborg or anything, the fusion is too complete.
They are born like that! She tells me that she was
born as a machine with very little biological parts.
And that Hilde shape was something she chose when her
circuitry evolved enough for her to have a form. What
a load of strange shit, don’t you think? Anyway, I’m
stuck in some odd sci-fi story, I think. Machines and
cell stuff and all. I think the scientists would have
found it more interesting than I do since I don’t
quite understand everything she’s talking about. She
keeps rambling about the exact matrices alignment and
stuff. Like I know. So she tells me all these things
only to get to a very simple point. Kill the control
panel, kill her. I guess that control panel is like
her heart or something. I told her that the phasing
thing she did the day before did not sit well with me
and that was why I was about to blow her circuits, and
she promised up and down that she would not try it
again. Apparently, it’s rather risky anyway. A not
so perfect technological advancement. I don’t know if
I take her promise seriously, but hey, if she does get
away, I can find her easily enough. Now that I know
finding Mission technology is basically finding the
person. While I ponder my hunting tactics, she tells
me something that makes me nauseous. I remember all
those tens of thousands of ships I wiped out with my
thought. I supposed that some of them had pilots in
them, but mostly I thought that those ships were like
mobile dolls, machines without humanity. But she says
I’m wrong. She says, every ship was a being like her,
sentient, intelligent, emotional. Yes, she is telling
me that every one of those ships was alive. I don’t
know why I’m nauseous, but I am. Tens of thousands.
Or more. Who was counting? And the entire fortress.
So far, I considered how to save humanity. I don’t
think I ever considered what I was doing as a massive
act of genocide. But you know, as I think of it, hear
it from her, it was. Nevermind that the Mission would
have killed every last human had they the chance. One
act of genocide to subvert another act of genocide..
that does not seem right at all. I have to face the
ugliness. The Mission, they had personalities,
friends, hell, even family as twisted as their concept
of family is. And I killed every single one of them
off, except for this one that looks like Hilde.
Except for this one chick who is talking to me,
gesturing with her arms and crying oily tears. Can I
feel any worse? Possibly. I believe I will feel
worse if I can’t think of some way to save Heero and
the earth at the same time. I can’t stand to watch
him die. I can’t let the earth be obliterated. What
will I choose? I don’t know yet. I already committed
one horrendous act to save humanity. Can I commit
another one, one closer to the heart? Can I really
watch my lover die and not lift a finger? I have no
answers, but I do have one thing to say. Life, as it
has been so far, fucking sucks.
The tea had run dry long ago, but Quatre and Relena
could not find it in themselves to intrude into Duo’s
private office. They had knocked many times, pleading
with him to open the door and talk to them, but all
the efforts had not borne fruit. Duo was still silent
and unseen behind the door and the only reason that
they knew he was still alive in there was due to the
monitoring of his life systems done by the Six
constantly. It was not just them and the Six who were
worried about Duo’s sudden lack of liveliness and
responses. It seemed that the whole compound was
aware of his depression.
“He still won’t talk. If he wants to relieve the
pain, he should at least talk about it.”
Quatre understood Relena’s frustration. They were
hurting for Duo, knowing that something awful had
happened in the past. Both could guess that it was
Heero’s death that bothered him. For a time before
the Mission came and after Heero’s death, Duo had been
driven nearly insane by his lover’s death. But twenty
years later, after the passing of time and the busy
war with the Mission, they had figured that Duo was
finally somewhat over the death of Heero. But when he
went back into the past, he must have encountered
Heero and not been able to save him. The thought made
them want to break into tears in anguish, but they
could not do so, yet. First, they had to heal Duo,
somehow get him to open up the festering wound in his
heart and purge the darkness.
“Duo,” began Quatre, speaking through the thick wood
door, “I know something happened that made you hurt.
Please, please talk to me. Oh hell, talk to anyone.
Just don’t shut us all out and suffer alone. Please.
Duo?”
As usual, there was no response. They did hear a
slight shuffle indicating that he had moved, but the
door did not open.
“How long can he do this to himself?”
“I don’t know, Relena. I don’t know. But if he
doesn’t let go of the pain soon..”
There was nothing more to say after that.
I finally figured it out. The circle of time, the
history, whatever it is called, I have figured it out.
And I don’t like the newfound knowledge at all. In
fact, I hate it. I don’t think I can fully face it
just yet. The revelation hit me like a ton of bricks
a couple of hours ago while I sat and watched the moon
rise over the city. The Mission chick and I are in
the city where Heero used to work and I have two days
left until Heero dies. So I was pondering my plan,
about what the hell she meant when she told me saving
Heero meant saving the Mission and all that crap.
Thinking brings about answers and truths. Usually,
they are supposed to be good for you, but this time,
they are just impediments to what I want. Why?
Because I finally figured it out. Why I can’t destroy
the mission and save Heero. I know now. See, I
searched the space around earth as far as my Talent
would go and found no traces of the Mission. The
chick was right, they were nowhere near here at this
time. So I had this grandiose plan to save Heero and
wait around for the Mission to come so that I could
kill them off before they could blow up the colonies
and everything else. But now that I know what I know,
that plan isn’t possible. What do I know? What did
all my thinking reveal? What is my great revelation?
That Heero was my trigger. He was the reason I
developed the Talent. His death was the release of
the power. I’m a fool. The answer had been there all
along, but I never put it together. Neither did
anyone else, but that’s no consolation to me. I
remembered how sick I was after Heero died, the
fevers, the painful wracking of my body. I remembered
that goddamned water that mysteriously moved to me. I
finally put it all together. Heero’s death gave me
the Talent. And if Heero does not die, then I will
never have the Talent. And so I will cease to have my
powers when the Mission finally did come. And my past
self would not be able to fend them off either. It’s
a terrible dilemma, don’t you see? Heero’s death is
necessary to save the world. He needs to be the
sacrifice so that others can live. I finally figured
it out and I hate it. Why did it have to be this way?
Why are my only choices between my love and my world?
Is it too much to ask that I have both? Must I
sacrifice one to have the other? I know the answer, I
do. No wonder the Mission wanted to save Heero. They
wanted me powerless. They wanted to take me out of
the equation. And they gambled that I would sacrifice
the world to save Heero. And you know, I think it was
a good bet. I want to save Heero. I want him to
live. I don’t want to walk into the house and see
walls flowing with his blood. I don’t want to cry. I
don’t want to smell the blood anymore. I don’t want
to feel that clutching in my heart. I don’t want
Heero to die. I want to be selfish for once. But I
know Heero would hate me for it. My Heero would have
sacrificed himself for the world. He would choose
death. I know what he would say, what he would do.
But I’m not him! I’m not noble, I’m not heroic. I’m
just Duo Maxwell who wants to save his lover.
Sacrifice the world for him. Let everything become
nothing. I want to. But I won’t. I can’t. Heero
still directs me and he tells me that I can’t let my
selfish heart destroy the earth. He asks me to
sacrifice him for the greater good. My Heero, my
perfect soldier. And me, the god of death. Didn’t I
tell you I finally figured it out? I know my two
choices. I know which one I want to choose. But in
the end, I know which one I must choose. Can you
forgive me Heero? Can you forgive me for standing by?
Can I forgive me for letting you die again?
The door finally opened and a figure stepped out.
Suppressing a sigh of relief, Relena walked over to
Duo who stood still by the door frame with his head
hung low. He looked terrible – his braid was
unkempt, his clothes were wrinkled and he smelled as
if he had not taken a shower for months. But none of
that mattered because he had finally released himself
from his seclusion.
“Duo! Are you alright? Can I do anything?”
The worry and concern came through clearly in Relena’s
rushed greeting, but Duo did not take notice. His
eyes vacantly stared at the carpet, not responding to
anyone around him. He let Relena take him by his hand
and lead him to sit on a small chair. He did not do
anything as she paged Quatre and mumbled a relieved
yet worried message. He said nothing to Relena when
she plied him with questions. He did not look up when
Quatre entered the small space, anxiety written all
over his haggard face.
“Quatre! Thank god you’re here. He came out, but
he’s not here. Look at him! His eyes.. they are
empty. Do something, Quatre!”
On the verge of tears, Relena launched herself into
Quatre’s arms, seeking solace that Duo could not
provide. Arms tightened around her, pouring
reassurance and support into her shaking frame. She
buried her head deeper into Quatre’s chest and missed
the glistening tears in his aqua eyes.
“Don’t worry, Relena. It’s going to be okay. I
promise, so pull yourself together.”
Relena noticed the tremor in Quatre’s voice and felt
immediately guilty. She was not the only one who
needed support.
“I’m sorry, Quatre. It’s just that.. only if he
would say something. I just want him to look at us.”
“He will when he is ready. He came out of the room,
so it’s only bound to get better.”
Untangling herself from Quatre, Relena walked over to
Duo and kneeled before him. She put her head on his
knees and held onto his legs tightly, almost as if she
was afraid that he would disappear.
“Come back to us, Duo.”
There was no response.
I’m all alone. There is no one here but me. In a
fit of logic, I killed the Mission agent not a minute
ago. Where she stood before me is nothing but a
smoldering heap of dust. I have extinguished the last
of the Mission, my genocide is complete. Stupidly, I
feel immeasurably guilty. Part of it is because she
looked like Hilde. It’s irrational since I know the
story behind her appearance and all, but I still feel
like I killed my friend. More than that, I got to
know the Mission chick. She talked to me and I talked
to her. I found out about her and god help me, even
got to like her a little. She was spunky, gutsy and
kind of reckless. I mean, knowing who I was and what
my mission was, she still managed to keep her cool and
her life for two days longer than she should have.
And she showed me a side to the enemy that I could
empathize with. I saw that she loved her machine
linked family, that she cared about those around her.
She felt the pain of loss as sharply as I do and she
just wanted to save her world, just like me. But in
this game of war, there could only be one survivor.
And I had to make sure that it was me. Just before I
blasted her with my Talent, I think she saw in my eyes
what I was going to do. In that split second, I think
she saw what my decision was. I hope she understood
why I had to choose the way I did. She would have
done anything, even save a lowly human being who had
nothing to offer her, to save her world. I’m offering
Heero at the altar to save my world. We weren’t that
different, the Hilde look-alike and I. But there is
no time to worry about her. She’s dead. I just
killed her. I killed her so that she would not hinder
my awful plan to watch Heero die. I know that if I
had kept her alive, I would have been tempted beyond
measure to try to save Heero with her. My heart would
have made the choice that my brain could not. So I
killed her to save the world. What’s one more dead
next to all the others? What is she to me when I have
to watch Heero die? Nothing, right? Not a goddamned
thing! God, is there only one and a half more days
before.. yeah. I know exactly when I will arrive at
the house to find the body. All I have to do is let
it happen. I just have to go home now. My mission to
kill her is done. I should go home. I can’t though.
I can’t. I never got to say goodbye to Heero. I
never told him one last time how much I love him. I
can’t save him, but I can say goodbye to him. One
last time, I can see him.
Duo sat sandwiched between Relena and Quatre. His
hands were taken by his worried friends, squeezed
gently and rubbed softly. He could hear them speak to
him, saying words that were meant to be supportive and
caring, but he could not respond. His body and soul
were still in deep shock, unable to process what had
occurred in the past. He could still see everything
that happened in his mind’s eye, like a slow moving
picture show. It hurt unbearably, but he played the
scene over and over in his mind, punishing himself for
his choice.
“I can’t win.”
It was whispered, almost too softly said to be heard,
but Quatre and Relena’s attentive ears picked up the
smothered sound. Grasping onto Duo harder, both
leaned in and searched his face. His eyes were still
blank, but they were filled with tears. He was not
back to them yet, but he was coming around.
“Duo, what do you mean?”
The quiet question spoken by Relena penetrated the
deep haze of Duo’s mind. He heard his friend clearly
for the first time since his return.
“It always wins, don’t you see? Always. I can’t
fight it. I can’t do anything against it. It won. I
never had a chance.”
“What is ‘it’ that you’re talking about?” Quatre asked.
“History. Time. Fate.”
My past self will arrive at the house in less than
three hours. In fact, I will be opening that door to
find Heero dead in two hours, forty three minutes and
eighteen seconds. Seventeen seconds. So on. I’m
cloaked in my Talent, invisible to the eye and to the
mind, standing by the lamp in our living room. This
is our house, my and Heero’s house. The lamp beside
me was a gift from Wufei, a housewarming present. The
curtains that I chose are still up, minus the blood
stains. Yellow and peach, so feminine but somehow
fitting. The couches are immaculate, recently
vacuumed and the pillows fluffed to the fluffiest. I
stand here, invisible, as I watch Heero putter around
the house. My lover came home early as he had
promised me all those years ago to wait my arrival.
My mind is overwhelmed as I watch him clean little
specks of dust off the coffee table, as he lights a
few candles to fill the house with the vanilla scent
I always loved. His tie is loosened around his neck,
hanging haphazardly from his white collar. His
sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his
forearms. His hair is mussed as usual, the dark brown
mess falling into his cobalt blue eyes. I can’t take
my eyes off of him. Twenty years. Twenty years of
not seeing him and finally, here I am. I can smell
the scent that is uniquely Heero, something that I had
forgotten because of the blood. I don’t smell his
blood here, just him, alive and well, smiling a little
and humming a tune. My lover is waiting for me to
come home and I’m on the road waiting to see him. I
know how it will end, how it must end, but for the
small remaining time, I want to see my lover. And the
killer. I don’t know how I will control myself when
Heero is getting murdered before my eyes, but I have
to. I have to let him die. But I will see who the
killer is and wreak my vengeance upon him, the kind of
terror that the Mission could only have had nightmares
about. But more than the vengeance, more than saving
the world, I want to say goodbye. But how will I do
that? Do I just appear before Heero and tell him that
I’m from the future and I came to say goodbye and
watch him die? I don’t know. I’m at a loss. I have
to act soon! I don’t have much time left. Two hours,
thirty two minutes and thirty three seconds. Tick
tock tick tock.
“I could not defy history. I could not let Heero
down.”
The look on Heero’s face was a mix of surprise and
terror. I can’t blame him since I just materialized
before him without warning. He stares at me with
those wonderful eyes, the eyes that hold the light to
my universe. Somehow, the terror recedes and he
recognizes me. Twenty years older in body, centuries
older in spirit, but my lover knows me. His lips move
uttering my name and I’m lost. I kneel before him and
wrap my arms around his waist, hugging his body close
to mine. I missed him so. Underneath my cheek, I can
feel his stomach muscles clench and relax. His
fingers run through my hair and he whispers to me
gently. I don’t know what he says, it doesn’t matter.
Finally, he’s once again with me and I am holding
him. One last time to tell him good bye. But I don’t
say goodbye. Instead of telling my lover of his
death, I spill out the story of me. I tell him what
happens in the future, what I become, what I did to
save the earth. I tell him that and so much more,
about my feelings, how much I miss him. How much I
love him. Time is running out. My past self will
come home in fifty one minutes and twelve seconds.
The killer should arrive in about forty minutes or so.
I have forty minutes to tell him everything, but even
my Talent cannot expand time. I can’t possibly tell
him about the depth of my loss, the true nature of the
future that awaits me. And I wonder, how can I tell
him that he will be dead in less than an hour while I
watch? I can’t do that. I can’t be that cruel. So I
will hold him as I am now, with his fingers running
through my hair and his voice telling me that
everything will be okay. Nothing will be okay, but
only I know that. He doesn’t need to know what will
happen momentarily.
“I did my duty. I completed my mission. So it has
been written.”
Only a few more minutes before I have to let go. I
speak quickly and ask his forgiveness and during that
rambling attempt at achieving my redemption, I blurt
out his death. His eyes widen slightly as he
processes the information and I know I blew it. With
him looking at me like that, how can I possibly let
him die? I won’t and I tell him. I tell him that I
will save him from the killer who will arrive soon. I
don’t give a damn what happens to the earth, not while
he’s looking at me with those eyes. Not when I have
his tangible body beneath my fingers, alive and warm.
Maybe it was a mistake to see him again. So what.
Despite my choice, I can’t let him go. Not even for
the world. Then I hear his words and they penetrate
my desperate thoughts. He is telling me that it is
fine. That I will be fine, that the world will be
fine. In his quiet voice filled with strength and
determination, my lover tells me that he will gladly
die if it means the earth will live. No matter how
horrible the death, he says, he will sacrifice
himself. I try to convince him that there are other
ways to do this, that we can change history for the
better. I try to convince him of things that I could
not convince myself of only a few hours ago. If Heero
believes, maybe I will believe and maybe.. Just
maybe, we could find another way. I hold onto my thin
line of hope and wait for him to agree with me. I
wait for him to tell me that he wants to live. And so
Heero says to my waiting face that he would give
anything to live with me into the long, quiet future.
But we can’t. He knows this and I know this. We both
know he has to die now. I’m unwilling to let him go
while he is readying himself for the inevitable slash
of fate. As always, it is Heero who is stronger in
conviction than I am. I can’t go against Heero no
matter what, not when he is like this. I cannot even
deny him death. The choice I made is the choice he
made. We’re of one mind. I hold onto him tighter,
wanting to get closer to him. One last time. I open
up my Talent and envelop the two of us in a tight
shell, melding our minds together for our last
communion. Words are not needed now. At this moment,
I can feel Heero’s love for me, his great sorrow at
leaving me, his determination to save the earth, his
forgiveness. I am redeemed in his eyes already. All
I have to do is leave and let the killer come.
“What fate commanded, I did. What time intended, I
was. It’s over.”
I hug my lover for the last time and bundle him
tighter within the folds of my Talent. I spare a
little bit of my Talent to stretch out beyond us, to
search for the killer. I will know what he looks like
for he will not live long after he destroys my heart.
Vengeance will have to be my consolation for not
saving Heero. But I sense nothing. I feel nothing.
Only me and Heero, holding onto each other, waiting
for the end. And then.. I reel. A realization. An
epiphany. A truth. I stand and look into Heero’s
eyes directly. I can see it all, the swirling
emotions and feelings that were the center of my
universe. My cobalt blue universe. And wrapped in my
Talent, I can see who the killer is. I can see the
reflection of the vicious bastard who killed my Heero.
I see me.
“One more thing.”
I can still recall the precise pattern of the blood
on the walls. How little of Heero was left. How
everything was so.. horrifying in its completeness.
And now I know why, I know how. I know who. Time and
history, they don’t really cut me much slack, do they?
At first, they give me hope by hinting that I can
save my lover. Then they make me choose between him
and the world. Then they force me to wait for him to
die while I hold him in my arms. Then, as the final
clincher, time and history have conspired to make sure
that the one who kills Heero Yuy is Duo Maxwell. How
do I know? It’s a feeling in my gut. It’s the truth
illuminated by my foresight. It is the event that my
Talent shows me in its infinite wisdom and cruelty.
Wrapped in my Talent and Heero, my Talent finally
gives way to look into the momentary future and I see
me. I see the killer. I see me. The Killer. Me.
It was always me. And Heero knows. He is still
connected with me by my Talent. He can see my
thoughts, feel my emotions. How can I kill him? It
was enough that I had to decide to watch Heero die,
but to kill him with my own two hands? Who am I
kidding? NO! I WON’T DO THIS!
“One more thing, then I’m done with this world.”
Heero must have heard me denying history in the
making because he touches my face gently. I can feel
his thoughts swimming in my head and I already know
what he will say to me. He is telling me to do it.
To kill him. For the good of humanity. I can feel
how calm he is, but at the same time, how ultimately
sad he is to make me do this. There is no choice but
to set the future on its course. If Heero lives, the
Mission will win. And if that happens, we all die.
Even Heero. He tells me there is nothing to forgive
for this will hurt me more than him. He tells me he
loves me. He tells me goodbye. So I hold on tight
and immerse my body into his, feeling his heart beat
next to mine. I fold my molecules around his, letting
my Talent surround our bodies as we literally become
one. For a small amount of time, for a split second,
his body and mine are one, melded perfectly together,
his cells and mine sharing the same space and time.
We are one. Then I coalesce and Heero.. Heero..
Blood. Everywhere. On the walls, on the floor, on
the pretty curtains. I stand numb, not realizing the
full import of what I have done. I stand until I hear
the car come up the driveway and I see myself stalk
quietly towards the door. My past self is looking
forward to seeing our lover. My past self is thinking
about our lover and smiling. My past self will not
know what he will do until now. There is nothing I
can do to prevent anything. All I have done is repeat
the past with my own hands. I created the world that
I so cursed. I created the world without Heero. I
have nothing left here in the past now. I phase out
of the past as the doorknob turns, leaving behind my
crime and my eventual future.
“One more thing and I will die.”
Quatre and Relena looked at Duo with horror written in
their eyes. Their best friend, the First Talent, the
backbone of their society , was talking about his own
death.
“No, Duo! You can’t.. Suicide is not an option!”
“It’s not suicide, Relena. Fate will take me when I’m done with my one last duty.”
“And that is?”
“To live. To fulfill Heero’s dreams of a peaceful world.”
History repeats itself, despite our best intentions
and efforts. It rolls over us like a tidal wave,
unerring and inexplicable, forever repeating, forever
looping. I could not escape it, I could not defy it.
All I can do is live with it and suffer. Smell the
blood forever. Find no solace. I will live. This is
my vengeance to the killer. This is my repentance to
Heero. May I live forever.
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