Author/Alias: Katra Winner (email@example.com)
Title: Lose Yourself
Catagory/Warnings: Angst, shounen ai, Quatre-problems, fluffy ending, serious fic
Feedback: Yes (PLEASE)
Quatre smoothed his shirt down with his hands. Standing inside a highschool gym at 11:00 p.m. was the last thing he'd have expected to be doing a year ago. But the wars were over, weapons did not exist, and humanity had a shot at peace. Real peace, like his father had wanted.
Now that there was no use for a soldier, as Heero said, it was back to school. And school meant a dance. He had managed to drag Trowa to the classrooms with only an hour of pleading and debating - and he wondered why he'd bothered. Trowa blended in just as well here as he had any other place. They both ran circles around their teachers, but it was better than the other options they could face.
He glanced over at the stage. The band was switching singers. The girl who had dominated the microphone for the past four hours stepped back to a keyboard and a boy stepped forward, his whole posture saying: 'attitude'.
"Lose yourself," he said, then started to rap.
Quatre didn't usually like rap at all. It sounded like somebody screaming into a microphone to him. It had rhythm, sure, but no actual music involved. Just anger, pain, and violence. Violence was the last thing humans needed at this point. But this was an old song; a glance at the vid-screen told him as much. "Lose Yourself, Eminem, A.D. 2002".
A very old song. So it was time to listen, he supposed. Old things appealed to him, and there really wasn't much else to do here.
"Look, if you had one shot, one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted -
Would you capture it or just let it slip?"
It's all about that one moment in battle, Quatre remembered. You changed when you were fighting. Put your game face on. Push the music to the back of your head. Ignore the pounding of your heart. Hide the anemia that makes your breath hitch too soon and your muscles ache so close after starting the fight. It doesn't matter, you're a soldier, you're expendable, don't worry, son, it's all for the good of humankind, this suffering, don't bother to fight, this war can't last forever, stupid OZ will come to their senses someday, that Treize Khushrenada's a bright young man, he knows war's not what we need.
"His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready
To drop bombs"
When you feel so tired after a battle, ready to just drop and sleep for ten hours, you have to keep going, keep going for the team, help the others, wave them aside, gulp the iron supplement that keeps your weak heart pounding, disregard your heaving chest, worry about losing blood because blood is precious and you don't want to lose the iron you work so hard to keep within your body.
It's not fair, you know, they're so strong (especially him, those green eyes can just suck you right in without him even realizing what he's doing) and you're so weak physically and you feel the urge to rock back and forth all the time and retreat to your own little world where you're safe always and it doesn't matter that boys don't cry and you're never really safe just because you're different.
"But he keeps on forgettin'
What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out
He's chokin', how everybody's jokin' now
The clock's run out, time's up over, bloah!"
Time's ticking you know, Trowa won't be around for forever, because after high school, you're going to college and he's going back to the circus and you're juniors so that means you only have a year left, make your move, you fool. Not fair again, he's so good at everything he does, is he like you? AUTISTIC, what a clinical word. Who cares that he has his own world, why does it matter, why won't they just leave you alone? Did they get on his case about being so silent, so quiet, so alone? His sisters always did to him, most never understood. Never. All alone, oh so alone - and from the moment I could talk, I was ordered to listen - just a puppet, but smile nice for the camera, young Mister Winner!
"Snap back to reality, Oh! there goes gravity
Oh! there goes Rabbit, he choked
He's so mad, but he won't give up that
Is he? No!"
Dizzy, dizzy, short of breath. Doesn't matter, now does it? You're always short of breath, your chest is always so tight, why is this any different? Just a different place and time. People gyrating all around you, bumping into you, grabbing each other while the teachers ignore the problems all around, they're all sweaty, too, so see, you're the same. You don't have to be different, you don't have to cry, never mind that boys don't cry, so you shouldn't cry anyway. See, you're the sa-ame. Oh, but they're dancing and dancing and the beat of this song, this song that speaks to him is pumping his blood, more powerfully than his traitor of a heart ever did.
"He won't have it, he knows his whole back city's ropes
It don't matter, he's dope
He knows that, but he's broke
He's so stacked that he knows
When he goes back to his mobile home, that's when it's
Back to the lab again yo
This whole rap shit
He better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him"
Little angel, fallen from heaven, falling to the floor, sinking to his knees as his muscles burn and ache and betray him. Large, long-fingered hands lift him up and carry him out of the huge mass of dancing high school students that are having fun while you feel like you're dying, but then what else is new? And you look up and see Trowa's face and his eyes, oh my GOD those EYES seeing right through you and oh it hurts make it go away, yes the pills are in my pocket, need to be taken with food, they're selling animal crackers outside, no don't worry about me, Trowa, I'll be fine, just missed my pill today.
But that's a lie and you know it, yessiree, ha ha ha, you've already taken your pill today so why do you feel so awful? Oh God oh God, please don't say it's time to go. So much left to do. But you killed so many people, little demon in angel's clothing, you liar, you almost killed Trowa, you probably did, and by some miracle he came back to life, oh you deserve to die!
"You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo!"
Lose yourself in the music, don't try to right your thought process, this is how you think sometime, this is normal, thought-streaming like this, you're dain bramaged young man, ZERO fried your brain, but don't blame the system, after all, the system didn't make you kill Trowa, that was all you, yes you deserve to die for that, young Mister Winner, find a nice girl to settle down with, maybe you'll pass the anemia down to the poor children and leave the wife you don't really give a shit about when you die too early in life, but anything's too late because you should be dead for what you did, you liar. Demondemondemon.
"The soul's escaping, through this hole that it's gaping
This world is mine for the taking
Make me king, as we move toward a new world order
A normal life is borin', but superstardom's close to post mortar
It only grows harder, only grows hotter
He blows us all over these hoes is all on him
Coast to coast shows, he's known as the globetrotter
Lonely roads, God only knows"
Your soul is gone, young Mister Winner, and you killed it yourself, not anybody's fault but yours - they all tried so hard to make you normal, but you're autistic and anemic and bloodthirsty and you like boys and you can't think straight and WHY did they fail? What did Rashid and Father and Iria and Instructor H and oh God even Trowa, how did they all fail? Failure's not an option, Winner, we're in a war, Sandrock can't be piloted by a weak person! He doesn't deserve a weak son, your father, he works so hard.
"He's grown farther from home, he's no father
He goes home and barely knows his own daughter
But hold your nose cuz here goes the cold water
His hoes don't want him no mo', he's cold product
They moved on to the next schmoe who flows
He nose dove and sold nada
So the soap opera is told and unfolds"
You see your life flashing by, well, what could be your life, anyway, see all the shit that could happen, you'll be a bad father, you'll have an awful marriage, your wife'll leave you for somebody else because you're so fucked up you can't even think straight (hah, you made a funny!) and then your kids will hate you too because you're so bad at taking care of them, and see how horrible it is?! If you just had done better, been better, then nothing would have gone wrong and it all would have been fine, Trowa could love you and then it would all be fine because you wouldn't be so dain bramaged.
"I suppose it's old, potna, but the beat goes on
Da da dum da dum da da
No more games, I'ma change what you call rage
Tear this mothafuckin' roof off like two dogs caged
I was playin' in the beginnin', the mood all changed
I been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage"
This endless waltz will continue forever, can't you see? It's been going on for forever anyway, why should the cycle of misery bother stopping for you, fuckup? Gimme one good reason, fool. You're no better than anybody else, actually you're a lot worse, so you don't deserve any kindness at all - oh please make it stop - no, why should I, you don't deserve it - but I'm trying, help me - you're past help, cheer up emo kid, you'll just die someday and relieve everybody of trying to protect you. You don't deserve them, you know, they're too good for you - but I try - and trying's never enough, now is it? Heero tries, and he manages to be worthy of everything thrown his way. God, Duo manages - but they're not sick! - that's your fault, fuckup.
"But I kept rhymin' and stepwritin' the next cypher
Best believe somebody's payin' the pied piper
All the pain inside amplified by the fact
That I can't get by with my 9 to 5
And I can't provide the right type of life for my family
'Cuz man, these goddam food stamps don't buy diapers
And it's no movie, there's no Mekhi Phifer, this is my life"
See, oh, see how much pain you've caused everybody? Thank you Trowa, yes, I'll be fine, here, see, I'm taking the pill right now, no need to fuss over me, don't worry. It's all your fault that he's so worried, he deserves better than you - but I love him, get out of my head! - doesn't matter what you think or feel, young Mister Winner, because ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS, and you've spent far too long fucking up - I didn't mean to, I'll do better, I know I can - too late for that, emo kid.
"And these times are so hard and it's getting even harder
Tryin to feed and water my seed, plus
See dishonor caught up bein' a father and a prima donna
Baby mama drama's screamin' on and
Too much for me to wanna
Stay in one spot, another jam or not
Has gotten me to the point, I'm like a snail"
Why are you so messed up tonight, young Mister Winner? Is it the music? The smell of sex and sweat that seems to be everywhere? Those beautiful green eyes that stare at you, or perhaps his hand on your shoulder that you wish was somewhere else... - NO NO NO!!! I have to be normal, be better, do better, do anything to deserve him - hmm, let's add 'multiple personalities' to this list of things that're wrong with you, emo kid - fuck you, little voice-in-my-head. I control what I think, not you!
"I've got to formulate a plot fore I end up in jail or shot
Success is my only mothafuckin' option, failure's not
Mom, I love you, but this trail has got to go
I cannot grow old in Salem's lot!"
Quatre composed himself. He smiled at Trowa. "Sorry about that, I guess I've missed more than one day." His breathing began to even out. Much better. You always felt better after kicking that little voice-in-your-head soundly right where they deserved it: the ass.
"We should leave. It's getting wild," Trowa said shortly. You don't believe me, then? Pity. Oh well. Ahh, it's so much more fun holding a mental conversation in with yourself when you don't answer.
"All right, then." He smiled again.
"So here I go is my shot.
Feet fail me not cuz maybe the only opportunity that I got
You can do anything you set your mind to, man!"
The night sky seemed just a little bit more welcoming. Trowa tentatively took his hand and squeezed gently. Quatre's heart skipped. He squeezed back, then in a burst of courage, leaned up and kissed Trowa's cheek. A flush formed where his lips had been. Trowa's lips curved upwards.
"Dinner tomorrow?" he asked in his own quiet way.
"I'd love to."
Quatre knew he wasn't 'normal'. After all, what is normal? Try to define it, and you'll fail quickly. He knew there were a lot of mental demons skulking around the cracks of his troubled mind. But just for now, he could procrastinate. He'd make it through the tunnel. Someday, in any case. He had high school and college to get through first, with a little bit of help from Trowa. Hopefully.
If not, then, well, he'd survive anyway. He was a fighter. You had to be in order to fight a disease that stole your breath and weakened your muscles. When gasping for air became something you got used to, you knew you were strong. When your muscles screamed after a short battle, you knew you had the strength to fight as long as was humanly possible.
You can do anything you set your mind to, man.
Well. That was interesting. "Lose Yourself" is the only Eminem song I like. The sentiment of 'yeah, I fucked up big time, but I'm gonna do my best to be the best just because I have a chance' is awesome.
Now, about the anemia and autism things. Anemia does suck. I have anemia myself, and so I know what it's like. My own personal anemia was caused by an iron deficiency, so I have to take a pill daily to try and raise the iron level in my blood. So, I get tired a lot easier than most people, especially if I miss my pill. -.- I just missed one a short while ago and started hyper-ventilating during a karate class and freaked everybody out. It really does hurt when you're trying to breathe and you're choking, because your body is sucking air in too fast for your blood to deal with it.
Ahem...sorry about that...anyway. Autism: I'm assuming by AC 196, they've found a medical cure for autism. Especially because the number of autistic children is increasing with each passing year, we'll assume as it's a biological brain disorder, it can be cured with the proper medication, and if humanity can make Gundams, it can make the proper medication. The only thing that is an autistic symptom that doesn't hold true for Quatre in my world is the tendancy to not have any intrest in people.
Feedback, por favor.