Okay, I’d like to thank everyone for their comments, they really inspired me to write part 2 of the fic, and I hope you all enjoy the rest of the fic. I’m not really a fan of 1x4/4x1 but I needed to use that coupling so that there was the right dosage of angst applied to the story. I would’ve used Wu but he’s playing another part in the fic, and I didn’t want to use Trowa, don’t ask why because I honestly don’t know. Also someone brought up the fact that Heero seemed rather OOC, I don’t know he might be, some people have different ideas on where it stands when a character is OOC… But anyways, I’m still in need of a name for this fanfic so anyone that has an idea shoot away. Please send me comments, flames, etc. The same applies to the flames as it did in the first section.

~~~ Warnings- Angst, Suicide Attempts, Alcoholism, and Drug Abuse.
~~~ Possible Lemon in future parts.

Untitled (for now)
A GW fic by Demise
Part 2

Disclaimers- Gundam Wing is copyright of its creators, Bandai, Sunrise Entertainment, Shin Kidousenki, Sotsu Agency, and associated factions. The characters are used for entertainment purposes only and without the consent of the owners of the show, there is no profit made from this work of fiction. The original portion of the fanfic is sole property of the author.


He awoke, eyes still red and puffy from his bout of crying the other night, and realized what day it was… the day his heart would ultimately die.

‘Well, there’s obviously no reason to live now since Heero’s gone and chosen Quatre… So I’ll end it all today, no suffering, no misery, and Heero won’t have to deal with my sorry little ass,’ Duo thought morbidly to himself. That thought still coursing through his mind he got up out of the bed and went towards the shower, stripping on his way there.

The hot water coursed over his body, practically scouring his body when it impacted his pale flesh. He welcomed the pain, he didn’t have to think about Heero and how he now had a new lover, soon to be ‘bride’. The thought sent a new wave of black depression and hurt through his body, wrenching at his heart that was still torn and battered from that conversation Heero and he had had that one day so many months ago. Tears fell unheeded from his violet orbs, once joyful and full of life now dull and lifeless. The crystalline orbs mingled with the steaming water making it hard to tell if he was crying or not. His body was numb with the pain he had been forced to endure and he no longer could tell his nightmares from reality. His whole world had collapsed that day Heero had left him cold and betrayed, his heart ached miserably the pain seeming almost too much to bear. Never had he felt this way before, once he had come close to this feeling of utter despair when he had lost those he had held close to his heart at Maxwell Church, but it didn’t come close to comparing to how he felt now.

He took a wash cloth and started to vehemently scrub at his skin, rubbing it red and raw, at points scrubbing so hard that he broke the skin, allowing crimson droplets to fall down his bare chest and arms to the tiled shower floor where they traveled in a river of red to the drain where they swirled and then slowly disappeared.

He finished his vigorous cleansing of his body and slammed the water shut after washing his hair. He stepped out of the shower, bright red beads of blood dropping onto the pristine white tile leaving a trail of crimson in his wake. Grabbing a towel he wrapped it around his hips and walked out of the enormous bathroom to sit down on a black leather chair. His eyelids began to droop, slowly sliding shut as he fell asleep on the seat.

“Duo…,” a voice beckoned to him through his uneventful slumber, “Duo… wake up.”

“Wha…?” He cracked one eye open sleepily to find Wufei leaning over him a slight hint of, was it worry?, in his obsidian gaze. “Oi, Wu what’s up? Somethin’ wrong?” He asked his voice laden with sleep.

“We have some last minute shopping to do before the wedding. And you don’t look like you slept very well last night… Are you okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine, jet-lag hasn’t blown over yet. I’ll be okay.”

“Well, then, let’s get moving,” Wufei said as he headed to the door, “I’ll give you ten minutes to get ready, if you’re not ready by then I’ll come in and drag you out, whether your dressed and ready, or not.”

Duo let out a thankful sigh as the door clicked shut, Wufei hadn’t noticed the blood on the bathroom floor or the abrasions across his body and especially the long cut down his left wrist. He slumped back and knocked his head against the back of the chair, “Well, I better get ready…”

True to his word Wufei came in and hauled Duo out paying no heed to the protests that spewed forth from the braided teenager, “Oi! Oi, Wufei! You can put me down now! I can walk ya know!”

“Well, if you say so…” With that Wufei dropped Duo from where he had been perched precariously on the Chinese pilot’s shoulder.

“Great time to get a sense of humor, Wu,” Duo muttered, sarcasm lacing his voice as he rubbed his sore rear end.

“My pleasure,” he answered with a slight bow, a smirk playing at his lips. Duo’s eyebrows flew up into his hair-line, a familiar quirk he’d used during the war when one of the other pilots did something rather unexpected. Wufei chuckled slightly, “C’mon we’d better hurry we don’t have much time, we have to buy you a tux and you have to purchase a gift for the soon-to-be newly weds.” Duo frowned as his heart wrenched and twisted at the term. It felt like a double-edged knife had been driven deep into his chest and someone was driving it deeper and twisting it; shredding his fragile heart to tatters. He was mentally and physically exhausted, ‘No more pain after tonight, no more useless games of charades…’

They stepped into the small shop, the walls of it lined in fancy tuxedos and the like. A small woman with wispy blonde hair pulled into a strict bun and green eyes walked up to them, “Welcome, gentlemen, how may I be of service to you?”

“We’re looking for a tuxedo, preferably black if you don’t mind…” Wufei trailed off looking at Duo who nodded slightly in approval.

“What kind of material? Silk, cotton, suede…?” She trailed off.

“Silk,” Wufei replied.

“Okay, then, I’ll be back momentarily.” The saleswoman hurried off somewhere to the back of the store to return only moments later, arms full of black suits each one varying in size and design.

“I brought out a couple that I think would fit you, choose whichever one you fancy and try it on. If the size isn’t correct I’ll find one that fits,” she said as she laid out the tuxes she had brought out on the table.

Duo skimmed through and ran into one he particularly favored. It was relatively plain minus the crimson lining on the inside of the coat. The jacket was a perfect fit and the pants fit quite nicely also. He had already acquired the white suit shirt he would be needing and now all that was left was the cumberbun and the bow-tie. The lady brought out a large variety of these which Duo chose from. He chose a crimson cumberbun and a black bow-tie, which the lady complimented him on, saying the colors matched perfectly with the tux and his complexion. Wufei nodded slightly and smiled in approval of his choosing. They paid and quickly left, finding that they had only an hour and a half before they had to return for the preparations.

Walking into the little trinket shop Duo’s gaze wandered around the room to rest on a beautifully carved pair of angels, one cloaked in dark blue and the other white. Picking it up he took it over to the counter and paid. Then turning to Wufei he nodded and they both exited the store and journeyed back to Quatre’s estate to prepare for the wedding.

Upon reaching the house they were amazed by the vast quantity of roses that decked the entrance to the house, and the amount of people that stood arranging everything. Getting past the initial shock they walked onwards into the house. The others turned at their arrival. “You’re late,” Trowa said stating the obvious, “You have approximately twenty-five minutes to get ready before the wedding starts.”

“Shit!” Duo swore out of old habit as he ran up to his room with his newly acquired items. Stripping his clothes off he quickly slipped into the tux and re-braided his hair, that had become mussed after his wild run through the mansion. Finishing that he settled down to the task of figuring out how to put the bow-tie on. Heero had once shown him how to put it on without strangling himself;

The memory was still clear as a bell in his recollection. “Come here, baka. You’re going to strangle yourself if you don’t do it right,” Heero walked over to Duo who was trying unsuccessfully to tie the bow-tie and nearly strangling himself in the process.

“I don’t understand this stupid thing! How the hell does Quatre deal with wearing these shitty things?!” Duo cried out in frustration.

“Like this,” Heero took the two ends from Duo and tied it perfectly. “That’s how you tie it, Duo…” Heero trailed off and let his hand ghost up to Duo’s face and traced his fingers over the braided boy’s plush lips.

Duo cut off that particular memory as it brought forth a dark wave of agony that tore through his veins. He shut his eyes tightly as he found tears springing to his eyes and spilling over his cheeks. Bringing his hand up quickly he swiped at the tears and rubbed his eyes till not a trace of tears was left. ‘Keep it together, Maxwell,” he thought to himself, “no use in crying for someone who’s lost to you…’

His thoughts were abruptly cut off as there came a knock at the door, “Duo! Come on the wedding’s going to start in fifteen minutes!” He heard footsteps retreat down the hall after the brief announcement. Sighing, he quickly tied the bow-tie and went over to the tiny desk that adorned the corner of the room. He took out a pen and began to write a note on a pristine sheet of paper to the only person who he thought cared about him; Wufei.

He began writing;

[1] Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
‘Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, ‘tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more.”

Ag, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;-vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels call Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more.’

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
‘Sir,’ said I, ‘or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you,’-here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, ’Lenore!’
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, ’Lenore!’-
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
‘Surely,’ said I, ‘surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore;-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
‘Tis the wind, and nothing more.’

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched upon my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
‘Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,’ I said, ‘art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore! [2]’
Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy bore;
Fore we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such a name as ‘Nevermore.’

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered-not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, ‘other friends have flown before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.’
Then the bird said, ‘Nevermore.’

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken.
‘Doubtless,’ said I, ‘what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of “Never- nevermore.”’

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking ‘Nevermore.’

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
‘Wretch,’ I cried, ‘thy God hath lent thee-by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite-respite and nepenthe [3], from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff [4], oh quaff this kind of nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!
Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’

‘Prophet!’ said I, ‘thing of evil!-prophet still, if bird or devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted-tell me truly, I implore-
Is there-is there balm in Gilead?-tell me-tell me, I implore!’
Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’

‘Prophet!’ said I, ‘thing of evil-prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us-but that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels call Lenore.’
Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’

‘Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,’ I shrieked, upstarting-
‘Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token or that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!-quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from my door!’
Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes all the seeming demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o’er streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted-nevermore!

Duo Maxwell, the God of Death~


By the time Wufei would find this and figure it out he’d be long gone, no one would be able to save him by then. He took some silent solace in knowing that Wufei would know what had happened, and would hopefully understand his reasoning for this. He sighed, it had been ten minutes since he had started to write the note, if he didn’t hurry down he’d be late. Taking out an envelope he folded the note and stuck it into the sachet and wrote neatly on the front “Wufei”. Tucking it into his jacket pocket he exited the hurriedly exited the room, so as not to be late.

Upon entering the backyard he saw several people impatiently waiting for his arrival. “Gomen, minna-san! I had trouble with the bow-tie,” he stated quickly. Trowa replied in his normal monotone, “Hurry up, and get into your place the wedding’s about to start.”

Duo gave him the “thumbs up” signal and smiled before hurriedly taking his place next to Wufei before the alter. Just as he stood in place the music started up and a tiny little girl, who was appointed the flower girl, began to toss white rose petals on the red carpet as she walked forward. Behind her came the ‘bride’s’ maids, and then, with Trowa attached to his arm, came the blushing bride to be, wearing a white tux, Quatre.

Quatre reached the alter and, turning to face a slightly smiling Heero, grinned, a light blush tinting his pastel skin. A couple of people in the crowd started crying whispering about “what a beautiful couple they made”. The priest began, “Dearly beloved, we are here today to unite man and his love into one forever.”

The priest continued to drone on but the words seemed lost to Duo as he was left wallowing in his own agony and sorrow. He snapped to attention as he heard the ceremony come to a close as the priest turned to Quatre, “Do you, Quatre Raberba Winner, take Heero Yuy to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and to cherish, through sickness and health, till death do you part?”

Quatre absolutely bubbled as he answered an enthusiastic, “I do!”

After Quatre replied he took one of the rings and placed it on Heero’s left hand. The priest then turned to Heero, “And do you, Heero Yuy, take Quatre Raberba Winner to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and to cherish, through sickness and health, till death do you part?”

Placing the ring, Duo’s ring, on Quatre’s left hand he smiled a little, “I do.”

The world then became dark to Duo as his heart ultimately shattered.


End Part 2of “Untitled Fanfic”
the website’s not up yet.

Author’s Notes: [1] I used Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”, which I am using for entertainment purposes only, because the poem just seemed to fit in with everything. If you would like further explanation e-mail me and I’ll give you one. [2] “Night’s Plutonian shore” for those of you that don’t know what this means the definition is “Night’s Deathly shore.” [3] nepenthe- a drink that causes forgetfulness. [4] quaff- to drink.

Anyways comments etc. are welcomed.