7-9-2002

Title: Only the Good Die Young
Author: Lily (ann_marie_martino@ emerson.edu)
Archive: just ask first...Ais, if you want it, you got it *grins*
Pairing: 1x2
Categories: deathfic, songfic of sorts, but not really..., angst, melancholy, yaoi
Rating: R
Warnings: deathfic..., very light citrus
Spoilers: none
Notes: *italics* ~flashbacks/memories~ the idea for this fic came out of the song "Goodnight Saigon" by Billy Joel. Some of the lyrics from the song do appear in the fic, but are more references than direct quotes. It was written while listening to said song on repeat. To get the full effect of this fic you might want to download the song if you can - it's incredibly beautiful and equally as sad. The title comes from another Billy Joel song.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.
Feedback: Hungry Bob loves to eat up positive comments! Throw snacks at him and he throws fic ideas at me. send to: ann_marie_martino@emerson.edu

 

Only the Good Die Young

 

The world stopped suddenly, like a child's toy scooped up in mid-whirl. [1]

~flash~ Duo screaming, directing Heero's attention to the Aries bearing down on them. Heero, his lips bleeding in the face of his concentration, Duo, hoarse from yelling, from cursing. Then, a blinding flash that obliterated everything, coupled with the smoke and bloody red gas that obscured their view of their comrades. Quatre, calling desperately over the comms, Trowa, abandoning the fight to search the debris and rubble. Wufei, choking on dust, and something else, bellowing to Quatre, screaming at his fellow pilots - his friends - that they had better show themselves...

The two mecha had twisted together, melting metal, wreckage intertwining like lovers. Tears sprawled on Quatre's lashes but never fell. The abject horror that creased Trowa's face, the rain that soaked his hair and plastered it down. Wufei's katana, hanging forgotten... ~end flash~

Duo was laughing, his eyelashes littered with the tears borne out of hysterical laughter, his manga forgotten on the bed beside him. He had thrown pieces of torn up paper at Heero, trying to get some sort of reaction. Outside their window it was as dark as pitch, not even the moon dared to show her face. Still, Duo smiled, popcorn cupped between his tanned hands.

"Duo - I have a report to finish. Duo!" Heero scowled at his lover, the beauty of the pilot across from him as undeniable as the fact that the sun rose in the east. Heero found himself wondering curiously when Duo had morphed into his sunshine, the exquisite light and warmth that kept him alive. Duo only continued to grin, tossing an unpopped kernel at Heero's tousled hair. Heero slammed the laptop cover down, sprang from his chair, and pounced on Duo, pinning the slender pilot to the bed.

"Ow, Heero! Not so hard - playing is great, but not too hard!" Duo cried, melting into a puddle of uncontrollable giggles as Heero began to tickle him.

Downstairs, three pilots exchanged humorous glances. Duo had brought a lot of life and laughter to their existence - particularly Heero's. Upstairs, the tickle-fest continued, finally resolving itself in heated kisses pressed to every bit of exposed skin either pilot could reach.

"Duo, I want to see your hair loose, just once. Onegai?"

"Well..." Duo's hesitant tone was nearly enough to force Heero to beat a statistical retreat. "I suppose, but just this once." Heero wanted to ask why it was so important to Duo that no one see him with his hair loose, but he didn't. As he reached for the elastic that bound the beautiful, long braid, Duo grabbed his fingers.

"Wait - Heero, if I die, I want to be buried with my hair unbound. Threaded with flowers - promise me you won't forget?"

"Duo, why do you think you would die?"

"Because - this is war. We're not going to survive it, Heero." The sudden, unexpected gravity of Duo's expression, the darkness consuming the violet of his eyes, gave Heero pause. Duo dropped his hands and Heero inadvertantly snapped the elastic. The faintest scent of rainwater ghosted into the air. It was a sweet, tranquil smell, and Heero inhaled appreciatively. But just before he could run his fingers through Duo's hair, unplaiting it, there was a call from down below. Duo smiled, albeit sadly, and pressed a tender, chaste kiss to his lover's lips.

"I'll meet you again sometime," he swore under his breath. But Heero didn't hear, he was too busy taking the stairs two at a time. Duo refastened the end of his braid and reached desperately for his careless laughter, which had all but deserted him.

"All right, we have to go into battle," Quatre was saying when Duo entered the room. Duo looked straight into Quatre's seafoam- colored eyes, ignored the slight wince of pain his friend exhibited, and said softly,

"Kat, if I die, I want to be buried in my normal clothes, my hair loose, sprinkled with flower petals. I want to be beautiful when I meet my love beyond." The cryptic words stopped all of them in mid-action.

"Duo, you already are beautiful," Heero reassured him gently, a hand dusting over his shoulder. Duo simply looked at him, the expression in his eyes defeated and worn. Then he shrugged.

"Let's go, then," he announced, but his voice was subdued.

"Duo - " Heero called after his departing comrade and lover, "even if one of us dies, the rest will not stop fighting, and we'll never forget."

Brave last words, Quatre thought to himself, eyes focused unblinkingly on the stationary positioned on the desk below him. He picked up his pen and began to write.

*They had entered the battleground as a group of five in high good spirits. They left the battleground with two of their dearest friends wrapped in tarp, their beautiful eyes closed for eternity.*

~flash~ Duo, his words rolling over them like water sliding off of plastic. His laughter, at times too loud, nonetheless lightening the tension that often crackled between them. Heero, his hands moving through Duo's hair, unraveling the braid. That same, silky hair falling in a cloud between Heero's opened arms. Heero, burying his head within the chestnut lake formed in his lap. Duo, his lip in his teeth, his violet eyes uncertain. Heero - pressing an unexpected kiss to Duo's forehead. ~end flash~

Trowa would never forget the heartbreaking sight. They pulled their fellow pilots from the wreckage and Heero crawled on broken, bloody knees to his lover. The surreal image that unfolded before all of them, just before Duo's eyes closed.

~flash~ A final breath, and the shimmer in his violet eyes suddenly winked like a falling star and went out. Extinguished, his eyes became naught more than a dull lavender, flat, like a broken mirror that no longer reflects. Heero brushed a calloused fingertip over each blue-veined eyelid, the velvety skin barely resisting beneath his fingers. With yet another hard, yearning kiss to Duo's beautiful, lifeless face, Heero closed his own eyes. He exhaled a breath that ruffled the newly unbound hair of his lover. ~end flash~

Wufei could not banish the image of Heero closing his eyes, breathing his last breath for his love. Like two shooting stars that had fallen to earth and fizzled in the atmosphere. The curtain had descended upon them, at last.

Quatre, still writing... *Remember Duo, remember Heero, never shall we forget. Flowers in the sky for Shinigami, the ocean's tears for Heero - only the good die young. Love, Quatre*

The long deserted manga still lay untouched on Duo's bed. Heero's laptop remained closed, never to be turned on again. A pool of elastics had been scattered across the floor in Duo's haste to find one before their next battle.

~flash~ Heero and Duo, kissing passionately in the rain, bloody after a battle, injuries weeping crimson, bones aching from overwork. Overshadowed by the intensity of their emotions. Just so happy to be alive, and together. ~end flash~

Wufei picked a dandelion and crushed it between his fingers.

Wufei slid the remains of the flower into his Gundam later. He would never forget.

Quatre distributed his letter, copied over five times, one to Trowa, one to Wufei, and another one for himself. The final two he buried in their graves.

Duo's hair had been brushed and brushed again until it shone like a living thing. Wildflowers had been scattered throughout the incredibly long tresses. Between his rigid fingers they placed strands of Heero's hair.

Heero was clothed in his spandex, his tank top, with his gun lying next to him. Carefully woven into his stiff fingers was a glinting golden cross.

It was dark as they buried their fallen comrades. They could not afford to be discovered, which meant that the burial took place beyond midnight and the graves could not be marked with anything permanent. But Quatre took a tree branch and scratched words into the cracked earth anyway.

*Two - reunited with his beloved in death. He will be missed. He was fifteen.

One - also reunited with his beloved in death. He, too, will be missed. He was also fifteen.*

That night, after they had gone to their rooms alone, none of them could sleep.

The night felt like it lasted six weeks long. [2]

 

~epilogue~

~flash~ dandelion pollen blowing in the wind, cottony fluffy seeds that got stuck in Heero and Duo's hair as they grappled with each other. The summery afternoon ended in kisses, and laughter. Heero laughed, a lilting, beautiful sound. The next day, the Gundam pilots' world cried. Heero and Duo, killed in the line of duty. ~end flash~

That night it rained profusely, droplets smearing and obscuring the words into nothing more than a mass of slimy mud.

Come morning there was one tragic line still visible.

~*~ Only the good die young ~*~

 

~owari~

 

[1] Line written by Ais. *grins* Thanks, Ais for letting me steal it! *glomps*
[2] Nearly a direct lyric from the song.