Warnings, disclaimers, and such: This is a songfic, and we all know I'm not good at these. Paint It Black is property of the Rolling Stones, GW belongs to someone else as well. Contains yaoi.
Oh yeah. One other thing. It's a DEATHFIC, people!

Paint It Black by Lys ap Adin

//I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black//

The very sight of cheerful colors offends me. How dare there be cheerful colors now, after he has gone and can no longer appreciate them? The entire world should be in mourning.

Like I am.

Returning to the safehouse where we are hiding in the celebrations that are following his death, I scowl viciously at the door. It's red. A bright, aggressively happy red. *He* would love it...

Now I hate it.

//I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes//

The colonies and Earth are celebrating. OZ finally succeeded in destroying not only a Gundam, but its pilot, too. Brainwashed by politics of our enemies, the citizens for whom he fought--for whom he *died*-- turned out en masse to rejoice as shattered pieces of a once-proud Gundam and the pitiful remains of its broken pilot were paraded through the streets of all the largest cities.

They cheered. It sickened me how loudly they cheered as I passed silently among them, desperate to get this one last glimpse of him. I passed by one group of young girls--our age--dressed in their designer clothes, speaking gaily of the wretched Gundam pilots and how glad they would be when the rest of them received their just rewards too.

I had to turn away before I did something rash. Like killing them for speaking so harshly about him.

//I see a line of cars and they're all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back//

He's never coming back. That's what hurts the most. After the dozens of times he made me promise that no matter what, I would come back to him after my mission was completed, he does to me what he most feared I'd do to him.

He left me alone.

I seek refuge in the hangar with my Gundam, but that's even worse. There is a berth empty next to mine that should be occupied. Tears blur my eyes, and for a moment I look at my own Gundam, picturing it painted black... that would be a fitting tribute to him, I think.

//I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a newborn baby it just happens every day//

I walk into the common area of the safe house, and the other three catch a glimpse of my face. They look away--up, down, at a book, at the television, anywhere but my face. I'm sure it makes them uncomfortable to see an expression as lost as mine is.

Who the hell cares?

I'm just as entitled as anyone else in my situation to be upset. Screw the goddamned war. So what if people are dying every day, this is more personal. Much more personal. Screw the goddamned training. He taught me that there's more to life than being a soldier. It would be the ultimate disservice to him to resume that act after his death.

//I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door it has been painted black
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black//

Before him, there was nothing inside me. I was hollow, a killing machine. Then I met him, and he changed all of that.

Now I'm empty again, the soul that I had, if only briefly, taken away when he left. Why him? Why not me? He had so much more to offer the world than I ever will. Why didn't he take me with him?!

It's all pointless, an endless circle of violence and death and anger and hate.

//No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you//

We only had a short time together, but he made sure every moment counted. It became his project to show me all the things in life that were wonderful and untouched by the darkness of war. He loved the ocean, loved the idea of boundless reaches of water. He told me that it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He was the most beautiful thing *I'd* ever seen.

I rage at his god, wondering why this had to happen to him of all people. Not because I loved him, but because he was so full of life. He loved living. I never would have believed that he *could* die...

But he did, in a fireball of exploding metal.

//If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes//

I spend a lot of time alone now, thinking of him. Hell, I'm always thinking of him. But when I have moments of solitude, I reflect on the memories we created together. I hold tightly to them, for they are precious.

He liked to watch the sun set, too. He loved Earth, and nature, being colony-born. He'd badger me to watch the sunsets with him, laughing at my unwillingness to waste so much time. But I couldn't ever refuse him anything he wanted from me.

Now I watch the sun go down every night, thinking of him and waiting for the sky to turn the vibrant shade of his eyes... sometimes, just for a brief moment, I can imagine him sitting next to me, laughing.

//I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes//

The others are worried about me. I don't care. But that damned door has got to go... It looks much better now, with the obscene red paint obscured with black paint.

They just shake their heads, unwilling to say anything to me. At least I have my solitude in that.

She finds us again, wanting to offer her condolences. I refuse to acknowledge her, and finally she leaves.

The darkness in my soul is swallowing me alive.

I don't care.

//I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal//

Yes, a tribute to him would be fitting. The paint job isn't perfect, but I've done my best. My Gundam is black now, too... like his was. Like my heart is.

It's not much, but I feel satisfied as I gaze upon the glistening wet paint.

The real tribute comes later.

//I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black//

Voices crackle on the channels between the cockpits of our Gundams as we throw ourselves against OZ's forces... yelling at me for fighting as erratically as I am.

I ignore them.

These are the bastards who killed him, who paraded his corpse like a macabre trophy, who destroyed my soul in an explosion in space.

They will die.

"You're going to get yourself killed!" screams a voice over one channel.

I'm already dead.

With a serene smile that he would understand, surrounded on all sides by OZ mobile suits, I press the self-destruct. This time I'll get it right.

Duo, I'm coming. Wait for me.