Ok, I've been thinking about this one for a while, but I wasn't actually planning to write it, because I figure I write too many song/vid fics. But then Heero tromped up to me and asked me to write it at gunpoint, so I did. ^^

Warnings: Yaoi, pure, unadulterated and unashamed sap

Oh...and just to let everyone know...especially Ryu-chan...(kowai da yo) I am now in fear of my life and am currently working on part two of "Passage" but don't expect anything great...

Katsu no Miko
A Wufei no Seishi
Duo's Grand Inquisitor and Head Torturer
Keeper of Duo's Stake and Mallet?? Duo's Browning .40 Hi-Power III???
(Or maybe) Keeper of Duo's angst???? (future generations will decide)
AND: Keeper of Ad's Sanity! (*snicker* What sanity?)

"Erst wenn die Wolken schlafen gehen/kann man uns am Himmel sehen/
wir haben Angst und sind allein.../Gott weiss ich wil kein Engel sein..."


}Angels Would Fall{
[Takes place during episodes 19 and 20]


[The rope that's wrapped around me
Is cutting through my skin
And the doubts that have surrounded me
Are finding their way in ]


It couldn't be possible. The braided baka couldn't have gotten himself captured. No.


Duo had been captured.

Heero narrowed his eyes at the TV screen, watching it with the same intensity with which he always observed the world around him. He was calm, collected, in control of the situation.

No, he was...afraid? How could he be afraid? Soldiers didn't feel fear; so it was impossible. He wasn't afraid.

The picture on the TV jumped, bands of interference skittering down it. The entire world around Heero retreated, everything dimming in the wake of the image on the TV screen; Duo, hanging limply between two soldiers, his face battered and covered with bruises. There was a line of dried blood running from the corner of his mouth to his chin. It looked like he'd been eating a hamburger and just gotten sloppy with the catsup. No; it was blood. Duo's blood.

He could almost imagine it; the soldiers questioning Duo, Duo grinning at them, the soldiers beating him for his continual refusal to cooperate, and for the insults he must have been flinging at them.

"Baka." Heero said softly.

There was no choice. Duo was now a threat, a potential information leak, a danger.

Yes, better to think of him like that. Don't think of him as a person; think of him as a target. After all, it was thinking about him like a person, not a threat or a useless obstacle, that had caused the problems in the first place.

/I have to get rid of all threats./

There was no room in a soldier for feelings.

No, there couldn't be. Ever. Heero narrowed his eyes and turned away from the TV, going back to the dingy dorm room that he was currently storing his life in. There was a gun under the mattress, cleaned, oiled, loaded, and laying ready. All he had to do was retreat back into the blankness of purpose, and it would be over. Open the door. Bang. Dead. Simple.

It was too easy to end lives. It was easy not to think; thinking only interfered with the mission.

No room in a soldier for feelings.

Everything was easier without feelings. It hurt less.

[I keep it close to me
Like a holy man prays
In my desperate hour
It's better that way ]

The guards were pathetically easy to get past, simple to distract and green. No match for the perfect soldier. The hard line of the gun dug into his back; there'd be a bruise later, he knew. Nothing of consequence. Pain didn't exist for the Perfect Soldier.

Pain was something reserved wholly for humans. All that there was for him was blank ice. Unfeeling. Numbing.


/As I wait in the cold dark, I don’t have a lot to think about or dwell on.

I don't know when I first decided that I loved you. I can't even be sure if I know what love is. All you and I have known for so long it pain and death and destruction...I'm surprised I can still feel enough after all of this to even wonder if I am in love. But it must be love; it's agony. Only something that strong could hurt so much, I'm certain of it. Anything minor wouldn't be able to make me feel pain any longer; I'm too numb for that.

No, it has to be love.

I'm in pain.

And it's a pain that I never want to end. I want to hurt like this forever, until you come and take it away./

[So I'll come by and see you again
I'll be such a very good friend ]

One last guard, and the door was open. Heero looked down at Duo, sprawled across the floor.

It was strange. Duo had never looked so small before, or so delicate. All it would take was a grab and the flick of a wrist, and bones would snap. The feeling of power was disconcerting; strange, it should have been satisfying. Power meant that the mission would be completed.

"I'm surprised, Heero. You always show up out of the blue." Duo grinned at him. He grimaced as one of the scabs on his lips cracked and fresh blood began to well out.

The blood was fascinating.

No, there was no room for distraction. The gun felt familiar in Heero's hand; what was it he'd heard once...like an old friend? Somehow, the word friend seemed wrong. Very wrong.

Duo continued to smile as if he weren't looking down the barrel of the gun, into the blackness that was going to swallow him whole. "It's ok," he said softly, "They'd just try to use me and the Gundam anyway." He pulled himself to the feet, leaning all of his weight back against the featureless, blank wall behind him. It was obvious that he was in pain; his face was pale and sweat was beginning to gather on his forehead, but still he smiled.

Why was he smiling?

"I am destined to be killed by you." He closed his eyes and grinned even more broadly. "Go ahead. Kill me now."

Heero's finger tightened on the trigger, and he retreated into the blankness of the perfect soldier.

No, not the blankness. It wouldn't come; it was imperfect, there was someone already there. Duo.

[Have mercy on my soul
I will never let you know
Where my mind has been ]

Duo opened his eyes when the shot didn't come immediately. "You are going to do it, right?" He sounded almost disappointed.

It hurt.

Why did it hurt?

Heero eased off the trigger. It wouldn't come. The Perfect Soldier wouldn't take him over like it always had. It hurt too much.

Pain was reserved for humans.

It still wouldn't come. All Heero could think about, all he could remember, was the sterile white ceiling of the hospital as he listened to his blood drip on the sterile white floor, and the face on the monitor. The face that spoke to him without a sound, and told him that there was escape.


"Only if you want me to." Heero said. Turn away...just turn away. Heero looked back at the door; it hurt too much to look into those eyes. They threatened to swallow him and leave nothing but pain. "You can still use your right hand, correct?" Heero threw his gun to Duo, and picked up the automatic rifle of one of the guards.

[Angels never came down
There's no one here they want to hang around
But if they knew
If they knew you at all
Then one by one the angels
Angels would fall ]

/I wandered into a church once, a few years ago. It was an old one; there wasn't even a priest there, just a bunch of old men. The entire place smelled like rat piss, beer, stale sweat and cigarettes. Still, there was something strange about it that made me feel something I hadn't felt in a long, long time. Not since I was a child. Despite the drunks and the dirt, it was warm. I've been cold for so long inside that I wasn't sure what warmth felt like any more.

There was a statue of an angel in one of the little alcoves; it hadn't gotten ripped off yet, oddly enough. It had a couple graffiti tags on it, and the angel was still smiling serenely as if to say "I've seen the ugliness and the sin, and I can still love. I can still find peace."

I wish that it was like that, truly like that.

All the angels are dead.

I killed them./


Duo was so light in his arms that he felt unreal. The boy seemed to radiate heat, a steady beacon of warmth cradled against Heero's chest. Heero carried him up the stairs to his dorm room as quickly as possible, not wanting to be spotted by any of his fellow students. He reached his door both too quickly, and not quickly enough. Duo was too warm.

The chestnut-haired pilot was laid out on the bed, and Heero searched around in his closet until he located the first aide kit.

It made him angry; there were so many bruises on Duo's fair skin, little cuts and lacerations that could only have come from the rough bottoms of army boots.

Where was the anger coming from?

He could remember his fall from the hospital building, and the rough impact that had left him with a broken leg that was impossible to walk on. Duo had tucked himself under his arm, supporting him while they escaped. Like he had supported Duo this time.

Heero sighed softly and sat down on the edge of the bed. Duo's braid snaked across the covers, and he idly combed his fingers through the tip of it.

No one was watching. No one would see what he was doing.

[I've crept into your temple
I have slept upon your pew
I've dreamed of the divinity
Inside and out of you ]

Heero sat up hurriedly, gasping for breath as if he'd just been running. Sweat prickled along his forehead, cold droplets of it running down the back of his neck and tracing along his cheekbones. He was still sitting beside Duo's bed; he'd been resting his chin on the mattress, using it as a pillow as he slept.

Hands...mouth...tongue...skin against skin...

He shook his head hurriedly to clear the remnants of the dream from it before he glared down at Duo's sleeping form. He was still sleeping, innocently. So innocent.

Innocence was what he killed; it was his specialty.

Tentatively, Heero reached down and touched Duo's forehead. He was warm, always so warm.


Heero stood and headed for the room's small bathroom, for the shower.

[I want it more than truth
I can taste it on my breath
I would give my life just for a little death ]

/How did you manage to get under my skin like this? I still don't understand you. I didn’t like you when we first met. You were too different from me. I couldn't understand you, and I hated you at first. You were just so...alien to my world.

Then I realized that underneath it all, the masks upon masks, you are just like me. We're the same, you and I, two made out of one mold, but painted differently. See the pretty dolls, how they dance, but they're both cold cast porcelain underneath.

You and I, we're the same person, now. Nothing can separate us, no matter how much we wish otherwise.

But I don't wish it otherwise. I may not be able to say the words or speak to you, but I never want to be apart from you. Only death can separate us, and you are my death. So even then, we'll still be together, won't we.


[So I'll come by and see you again
I'll be just a very good friend
I will not look upon your face
I will not touch upon your grace
Your ecclesiastic skin]

Goosebumps sprang up along Heero's back and arms, and he shivered slightly, another sign of weakness. Water ran from his hair, flowing down his back, his arms, to pool in his cupped hands. Heero watched, fascinated, as the water ran out from between his fingers, flowing toward the floor of the shower.

Water...or was it blood? His hands were stained so badly that they would never be clean, never be free of blood.

How could he have even thought of touching Duo with those hands? Duo was life...everything. The only thing in his world that was warm, that he could cling to.

Would his hands leave smears of blood on Duo's skin?

/Are you lost?/

/I've been lost all my life./

He was still lost, and he would never be found again. But maybe...maybe...


No...there was no room in a soldier for feelings. His hands clenched into fists, sending the water splashing down to the slick floor.

His fist struck the porcelain tiles of the wall before he could even register his own movement. The tiles were cracked, he could feel them under his knuckles. Pain thrilled up his arm, into his shoulder.

But...what about a human?

[Angels never came down
There's no one here they want to hang around
But if they knew
If they knew you at all
Then one by one the angels
Angels would fall ]

/I think that I'm the only one that understands you, really...and I'm not even certain of that. If I understand myself, I understand you, but sometimes, I can't even be certain of who I am from one moment to the next. This mask, that mask, the next, which is real? Does it matter? Will you recognize the real me? Will you see yourself mirrored in my eyes? Will you see all of the blood and the deaths and the madness that I can barely keep locked away, the anger and rage at everything that comes closer to the surface every day? Can you love that?/

[I'll come by and see you again
I'll have to be a very good friend
If I whisper they will know
I'll just turn around and go
You will never know my sin]

Duo was still deeply asleep.

He was beautiful, so beautiful.

/I wish.../

Heero reached out and tentatively touched the other boy's bruised cheek. There was no stirring, no indication that his intrusion had been felt. Only the perfect, smooth skin beneath his fingertips.

/If only.../

Duo's lips were so warm and soft against his...


Heero stood up quickly and walked away, shutting the door behind him.

/Duo, Aishiteru./

[Angels never came down
There's no one here they want to hang around
But if they knew
If they knew you at all
Then one by one the angels
Angels would fall ]