3-20-2001

Title: false prophesies
Author: Sunday
Warnings: Again, no relena bashing, sorry about that. ALSO, have no fear, she is NOT getting together with Heero (shudders violently) ugh... instead he is being kind of supportive, you will see why he needs her alive later. Okay...ummmmmmm this is a shonnen ai sorta fic (well duh, it is posted on the Duo/Heero DHML, yaoi ML...so that was a given) Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing, its plot or its characters. All those belong to their respoective owners. Nevertheless, I am the sole owner of this peice of fanfiction, and would greatly appreciate being notified of its use. The characters of the Fallen Golden Age (AGA) are mine, so is that whole universe....so don't use that either. Notes: this is part 1a...part 1b is being spell checked...and I have no patience for formatting all of this damned 4 page long (before formating and at size 10 font) part...so I will break it into peices, at the most stupid of places...OKAY.... MOST IMPORTANTLY, I would like to thank the wonderful people that commented, I mean, absolutely all of the comments where constructive, and intelligent...and things that I don't really deserve, but would write till the end of time to hear more of. In fact, the sole reason that I write is to impose my frightening, and narrow midned views on the unsuspecting internet community...so the sole reason I write is...you. The sole reason I wrote this fic is...well a love for Heero and Duo, but the sole reason that it is written, and not another one of my little worlds in my head are:
Naraku
kuroneko
Steel Song
Thank you so much for your wonderful comments!!!

 

False Prophecy
part 1a
Sunday

 

 

“h-hello?”

Do you hear that?

Is it her?
I hate this…
You can hear me…right?
RIGHT?
Do you know what it is…

“Relena. Stay in your office, do not move, I will be there in a moment.”

You are leaving?
Why?
Talk…please…you don’t know what it is like to…

Lightly he hangs up the phone, and calmly walks out of the room.

A form sprawled on the chair, a useless laptop resting upon her skirts.

She looks up, pale eyes staring, unfocused, empty, at the door. Waiting. Because suddenly nothing is certain. Her pale hand moves to her face, brushing away the hair that had fallen there.

It drops back, lifeless, like a marionette.

The door slowly opens, and floods the now dark room with light, and he walks to her, hesitantly.

“Relena?” he whispers, before kneeling beside her, and lifting the hair from her face.

“…Heero…” her eyes turn to him, non of the usual depth and determination visible within their glassy surface. “…Heero…”

“hai?”

“…why did you kill Duo?” He slowly stands, before taking her hand, and pulling her to him in a tight embrace. The laptop that she had held, now pressing upon her breasts, and his chest. She leans her head upon his shoulder, the nightmarish quality of everything that is happening around her distracting her form enjoying the contact. From noticing anything in the contact…but the cold.

Heero is cold, she notes calmly.

And he is wrong.

Not in anything that he said, but rather in the way that he exists.

Slowly he pulls away, and she has a chance to see him for the first time.

And.

And he is the same…isn’t he? Was not his hair always in his face? His lips always so pale…and his skin so tanned? Was not the light in his eyes forever so dulled? Her muddled senses intone, their voices melding together in her mind, her actions softer, clumsier, as if she had been drugged.

But still, she can feel it…she can feel the wrongness, within those Prussian mirrors, she can feel the error within his shadow, within the way that the image of him seems just a little too fuzzy when compared to the surroundings. It is as if he is not there.

“Heero…are you dead?”

He smiles. ‘Smile’ she realizes, watching with fascination as his lips stretch just a bit, and his eyes sparkle just a bit more. But wrong. It is wrong, because Heero never smiles. Not even in her fantasies, because she knows that she would never be the one who would make him do so.

“No more then you are…Relena, try not to scream.”

And with that whisper the world blurs, and he comes into focus.

Everything falling away.

And she screams, her frustrations, her anger, her detachment…all of it pitched into that frightened shriek.

Softly a laptop falls to the carpeted floor, for no one is there to hold it.

* * *

She awakens, the realization of what happened still fresh within her mind, at the front of all of her nightmares.

“Heero.” She whispers. Realizing for the first time that she is laying upon a bed in a dark room, soft covers pulled over her shivering form. ‘am I forever to be cold?’ Lightly she turns, her cheek rests upon her golden hair, spread out like a halo around her. Finally she notices the man slumbering within the chair at her side. He shifts slightly, and she becomes aware of how beautiful he is. His black hair falling in his face, High cheek bones prominent from beneath his eerily white skin, skin that looks as if it had not touched the sun’s rays in ages. He shifts once more, giving her a better view of his face, and she gasps.

For the man before her, for all the similarities, could be Heero’s older brother. She stares at the nose, the way the lashes fall upon the cheeks, the way the lips curve, even the chin. And slowly, the eyes of the stranger open…and she sees her mistake.

“Heero?” Because no two creatures could possibly have those eyes. Eyes that even just after awakening, scream of determination, alertness, and understanding.

He gives one sharp nod in the affirmative.

“Relena.” He pauses, allowing the panic within her to settle. “it appears that I have much explaining to do.” For the first time, she is able to hear an accent to his words, a thickness that was not there, one that she had attributed to adrenaline, to attacks…to anything but him, when she had heard it over the phone. An accent that worked frighteningly well with the gibberish that she had heard from Quatre’s lips.

Quatre, had he so changed? She mused, still unable to comprehend the strangeness, still enveloped within the detachment that cocooned her within the past twelve hours.

“Heero. Why? Where?” The door to the room opens, a figure enters, and sharply draws the curtains, allowing the midday sun to illuminate three remaining figures within the room. Each of them older, each she would not have recognized, if not for the fact that they remained in that group, the hierarchy of power, and supposed power playing within their postures and stance. All of them so very much more mature, except for maybe little Quatre, who retains that innocence, radiating a greatly inferior age. Calmly he walks over to the edge of the bed, his tall willowy frame graceful, and determined, emitting a feeling of power.

“Relena-sama.” It appears, that the late Duo Maxwell was justified in stating his stupidity. Truly, it was impulsive, and foolish to destroy such generators with a thermoblade.”

* * *

His words roll over me, and I find that I am strangely drawn to him, to his words, spoken so softly that I can hardly concentrate on what he is saying.

‘the late Duo Maxwell’ Oh, Duo was always late I suppose, still is, he is the tardiest person I had ever met. I still remember joking about it with him…

and then…and then that layer that had been steadily keeping me from truly realizing the magnitude of his words shatters.

“Duo is dead.” I whisper, my voice seeming strange in the presence of the others. Strange among these strangers. A man with long black hair and coal black eyes walks towards me…Wufei…my mind supplies. His face remains emotionless. He bows lightly.

“Duo Maxwell, as we know him, is dead…” he licks his lips, throwing some of the waist length hair from his face, his hands brushing against the white skin. “…we grieve his loss.” He turns from me, walking out of the room, his customary white outfit brushing silently against his legs, as his swift stride relieves him of me. Of this situation.

****

“When we came back…we thought...” Quatre attempts to speak, before he chokes on his words, and opts instead to lean against a young man, who is sole in his superiority of the young Arabian’s height.

The man’s customary hair, and bored expression, give him away.

“Trowa.” I croak my voice hiding somewhere deep within me…in the place that I wish that the rest of me could too find shelter.

“I’m sorry Relena, for the confusion…it appears that we should begin at the beginning. You see…we have aged somewhat, in what, for you, was but a moment…for us it was…” I watch in fascination as Heero speaks, his words as cooling as those of Quatre’s, however whereas Quatre’s had the ability to instill warmth, Heero only added to the coldness. “…it was forever…I have seen well over three hundred years go by…I am amazed by my retained sanity…you see, Duo is no longer sane, he…”

“Duo is dead.” Another whisper, this one hot like fire, yet it boasts not a single inflection.

“Aa. My apologies, Trowa is correct, Duo is dead. All that is left is the Oracle.”

“T-the oracle?” I manage, feeling like a simpleton, staring at the four men before me, because I cannot comprehend doing anything else. Because I am unable to do anything else. They are so very different, and yet they are the same. In the way that a flower’s bud is always the flower.

“Shut up.” Heero’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I stare at him in horror, as he watches the area right above my head. I follow his gaze, unable to see anything but the bedpost.

“Denoir! Adata! Quatre, estata, deterana a catarinada….toast…na…” with that he throws a glare at the bed and stalks out of the room.

 

He had lost it. Somewhere in that bizarre accident, they had been caught within that explosion and it had aged their bodies. No doubt that such a tremendous occurrence could have caused their fragile psyches to snap…and that is when I realize that Quatre is giggling. Like a small girl, the tall waif like boy…or rather, young man…is giggling, and attempting, in vain, to hide his action, by burying his face in Trowa’s shirt.

Trowa, as always, remains dispassionate. At least some things never change.

“FUCK!!!…you can’t go on strike!!!…you’re a TOASTER, now fry me the damned bread…no…no don’t cry…….WUFEI!!!!!” Heero’s voice fills the house, and I watch as Quatre gives up on giggling and starts laughing in earnest. Trowa once more casts a gaze in my direction.

“They truly are not insane…”He intones, replying, no doubt, to my horrified and panicked expression. “…they only appear that way.”

“T-trowa, r-relena sama….last one to the kitchen misses Heero talking to inanimate objects.” With that, he is off, tearing down the hallways of the safe house. Trowa watches him go with a raised eyebrow.

“Personally.” He offers “..I have found that the whole inanimate object thing gets rather old after a half a century or so….” He shrugs, before helping me onto my feet, and then down the stairs to the brightly lit kitchen…where, sure enough, Heero is in the midst of a deep discussion with the toaster.

 

The realization that I am now in a house with a bunch of crazy professional killers drops on me, but truly, what can I possibly do? Run? The four of them have speed that I cannot even imagine, hunting skills I do not wish to know of, and methods of killing, that I pray I will never have the misfortune to dream about. Therefor the only logical solution is to appease them, perhaps to speak to them in soothing tones, or, at very least, dumbly stare, as Heero continues to speak the gibberish language, while gesturing at the toaster.

“…Wufei, come here and act as a mediator…I WANT the toaster to toast…and you know what it says…hmmm? It says NO. So we have both decided that to optimally resolve this conflict we need a neutral third part…you have been elected…now please tell the toaster that I want my toast crispy.”

Wufei, who had also been watching the proceedings, raises a brow, walks over to the bread, and gazes at it critically. “I think it is about time that we convinced Relena that we are not crazy.”

“Ano…” I start, my mind thinking by far too slowly for the trouble that I am most likely in, seeing as they had found me out. “…ano…I didn’t say that…”

“No, but you thought it, and you have been thinking it, ever since Heero started having one of his fits.” Quatre smiles brightly, before indicating that I should watch the procedures. After a bit of argument, it is decided that Wufei will toast Heero’s bread. Which, of course, does not aid in my view of their mental degradation.

That is, until….

Until…

Until the toast is engulfed in flames, as it lazily floats in mid air.

“Hn, what a waste of bread.” Heero turns his back on the spectacle, grabbing an apple and chewing it thoughtfully, finally he turns to me.

“So Relena, who is crazy now?”

* * *

Watching her horrified expression is quite likely the most amusing thing I have done, since my return. She is staring blankly at the wall behind where the bread used to be…

…can you hear me…

…heero…heero…you are real, right?…

…you can hear me!…

…stop pretending!…

…you don’t know what it is….

…your kidding, I think she is sane….

…idiot…

…lunatic…

…no, no, I’m serious, the blond is quite out of her mind…

…to be alone…

I ignore the murmurs, they, so much stronger then what I am used to. Very much stronger.

The place from which my abilities originate was dead, so far gone, that even spirits had left the earth. They had abandoned their usual hiding places, leaving behind only the strongest, only the few.

…heero….heero…are….you…you are just a drea…m…

…alone….

And then there are the less then friendly murmurs.

“Hardly.” I reply, allowing the air to carry my answer, back to the one who would be listening for it. Back to the twice-damned oracle. The air tends to do that, you see, carrying its message within itself, rarely spreading its own…

…are you sure…?…

 

I shake my head, and return my gaze to Relena who seems even more fragile then I remember, her hierarchy of ‘things that be’ having just been smashed to pieces. She seems more innocent, more the child that I had once labeled her as being.

 

…heero….heero….do you still love me then…will you still love me now….

 

…I’m lonely….

 

“Heero?” She whispers my name, and I find that they had left me alone. Alone, with her. Her. Relena. And that is the whole problem. This whole war was fought for her ideals, is being fought for her ideas…and still, still I must protect her, and her stupid ideals… knowing that in the end they are going to fall through, that the world will become the polluted wasteland of the fallen Golden Age. That is what they call it, the Fallen Golden age, because nothing less could ever describe that lurid landscape, the nightmare city, everyone’s night terror come to life, but the sheer antagonism of everyone’s sweetest dream. All of it because of a war that non-of her pacifism will ever stop, because pacifism is simply the calm before the storm, the peace before the war.

“Hai Relena.” I whisper back, defeated. I will protect her, of course, allow the natural progression of history to run…allow for that small pocket of tranquility, because I do not think that I will ever be able to deny the child that I see in her eyes.

“Heero, about Duo…is he dead…I mean, really…?”

 

…am I…dead…

 

“I suppose that in a way he is…it is really difficult to explain, it is one of those things that you have to be there to comprehend…that you need to experience.” She looks at me with warm eyes, and briefly I wonder if perhaps I could leave him behind in the hopes of another. Never the less (because there is always a never the less) I hope. As I had hoped for almost fifty years, I fervently hope now, that he will return to me, as he did once…that we will be together…even for a day. Because that one day would nullify all of the lonely time that I had spent with only his whispers in my head. Because that one moment would be worth more then an entire lifetime with another.

 

“Quatre said…ummm…well surely you heard…you where here…and I …”

“I did not hear, Relena.” There is little point in hiding the fact that I was focusing my energies on something else…someone…else.

“He said that you are like a computer…and that…”

“No.” She looks a bit puzzled, looking around, before, shyly, embarrassed…she places her hand to her breast. “Are you talking to me…? Because…”

“Yes, I’m talking to you, and the answer is no, I will not allow him, nor you to see what is happening within my…” slowly my voice rises in pitch, angry that Quatre would suggest such a thing. Suggest that I degrade my memories of Him by sharing them with this…this child.

 

…not all of it Heero, just the basics…

… you were there the longest, outside of D…

… well, you where there the longest…and she needs to know….

…She needs to know why her death is so important to some…what will happen…


Quatre’s voice whispers within me…running
down the nerves of my arms, curling around my
spine…and then it is gone, replaced by another.

…she needs to know why her death is so important to me…

So He agrees…that is all the prompting that I need. She needs to know why her demise would mean his return…briefly I wonder if I could kill her…If He is important enough…enough to trade her life for him.

 

Laughter fills my head.

…never…you are too good…unlike some…unlike…Heero…stop…stop me…

* * *

Heero was sitting beside Quatre, his eyes open wide, his gaze empty. His hair was hanging in his face, turned to the floor, limp…like the rest of his body.

“Relena…” Quatre lightly takes my arm, and seats me across from him. “…This is a very simple procedure…”

“is he dead?” I whisper, finding, to my annoyance, that I had been doing it far too much lately.

“No, he is merely clearing his mind…so that the memories don’t hit you full tilt.” He smiles at me.

 

…and anyway, it is not often that you see another’s thoughts and dreams in your head…

 

he whispers, and it takes me moment to realize that I had not heard him speak. Quickly, unable to repress the panic instinct, I pull away from him.

…relena…

he sounds a bit angry.

…You cannot do that while with Heero, I am offering him some buffering, but most of my energy will be trained on you, and aiding him in sorting some of the…more private…experiences away…

I blush, for the first time realizing that in so long a time that he existed he could hardly have remained a virgin, if he was one in the beginning, not to mention all of the other things that he could have thought of doing.

Laughter…I can hear laughter in my head.

…relena…try to monitor your thoughts…

Oh dear God he can hear me thinking…he can hear me thinking…half a dozen half glimpsed images push themselves to the forefront of my mind, as I try to hide away everything that I believe to of any particularly sensitive subject matter.

He laughs again…

 

…relena…this is going to be a bit weird…because in Heero’s mind you will be, for a moment, able to see as he sees…meaning, try not to think too much about what he is hearing. Let us just say that Heero has an ability to listen to that which we would normally not hear…

 

Before I can even think to respond, I realize that I can no longer detect Quatre in my mind, instead, all I can feel is coldness.

I open my eyes, startled by the change of perspective,. Noticing that I can no longer see him sitting to my left…I wonder if they moved me…

‘hardly.’

And that is when the world begins to spin…the edges of the room curving in…as if a vortex was somehow sucking them up through the top of my vision. Tri-ppy. A part of me supplies…and briefly I hear laughter…

 

Quickly I look around the room, in search of that elusive laughter, and that is when I spot her. No, not her…me…I can see me…sitting slumped in a chair, with Quatre leaning over me, trying to shake me awake.

“Relena? SHIT, someone get Wufei, Duo’s gotten a hold on Heero’s mind again. Why the FUCK doesn’t anyone tell me these things?” He whirls around to face me, and I attempt to ignore how to room spins around him.

“Heero, you bastard why didn’t you tell me that you could hear Duo again? Do you realize how mu…erm…Heero?” I feel his hand contact with my cheek…but it seems so far away…it hardly hurts at all. “…dandy…just dandy…WUFEI!!! We need a damned exorcism and we need it NOW!”

 

Slowly I realize the trouble that I am in… The room is now tunneling away from me, the floor from both sides of the room having met, and the ceiling is just a little black dot somewhere in the distance.

 

“Well Relena, sucks to be you…”

a voice whispers lightly in my ear, before drifting away, the thick accent to the familiar words almost obscuring them completely. Suddenly the silence is shattered…and a multitude of voices scream and wail all around me.

…can you hear me?…

…you can, can’t you...

…STOP IGNORING ME!!!…

…I don’t belong here…

…I belong nowhere…

...useless…YOU ARE USELESS…can’t you listen?…

The voices filter to my ears, like listening to the conversations at a crowded market place, pulling out only a few that are distinguishable, while the rest meld back into the background noise. Non of the conversations clear, all of them forming a strange almost static like sound…human static.

 

‘it is not Human, Relena.” Again, a voice breaks through the static, shattering the conversations, but this one I am far more familiar with.

Heero…where are we? What happened…what is it? “spirits mostly. The spirits dwelling within everything…although these, I have not yet had time to quiet…”

 

But.

“…and we are in my mind…unfortunately, Duo has decided to do some tampering…”

TAMPERING? That is bad right? I mean-

 

My words are ripped from my thoughts as the image shifts again, but in reverse, this time opening in front of me. Layers upon layers of filmy reality peel back to reveal a red sky, and a curved horizon, slowly pulling away from the tunnel it had formed into a straight horizon.

…Relena… The voice again, Duo, whispers. Suddenly all I can feel is blinding pain, and I clutch my face, where someone had cut me…I quickly pull my hand away, staring in horror at the clean lines of blood that had been imprinted on my white palm…

a symbol of some sort.…remember, you are the mother of all that wears the façade of the dragon…

Duo.

 

And the universe appears, in a flash of light, as

his name dies within my thoughts, the sound no longer resonating within the chambers of my mind…opting instead to fade into that familiar whiteness…that homologous light that beacons all to join it, without identity, without self.

Who am I to deny it?

 

A phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Relena, how many do you want dead today?”

“p-pardon? Heero?”

“How many?”

“none…but Heero, what are you…”

“How about tomorrow?”

“none…”

“then help us.”

A bright flash of light, where Duo’s Gundam used to be. Grief clutches at my heart, but I push it away, save the others first…mourn later…pray that there is no mourning for later, now… “GET BACK!!!” the controls to Wing seem to blur beneath my fingers, and I can feel my consciousness slipping as the strange white light hits the Gundam’s legs.

“Help you?”

“I saw the way that you looked at the prototype today. You know what it is.”

“Heero, this is ridiculous, stop acting this way right now…or else, or else I’m hanging up.”

“354 children.”

“pardon?”

“three hundred and fifty-four children, under the age of ten. All of them live at the base.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“Of course you do. 450 minors.”

“wha…Heero…”

Suddenly I become aware of the white light that seems to be slipping up from underneath the paneling on the Gundam’s floor, and into the chamber. I watch as the compass begins to spin, overwhelmed by some sort of influx in magnetism.

“450 minors, 354 children, and 800 other. All of them are civilian.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What class do you have tomorrow at three?”

“English…Heero…I…”

“They will all be dead by then.”

“…”

“Relena?”

“…explain.”

“I don’t want them dead. Help me.”

The warning systems within the Gundam all turn on, filling the cockpit with noise and light. All of them scream to me that wing has been disconnected from the lifeblood that is suite’s fuel system, and the nervous system of its wires. Radar falls off line, leaving my landscape shapeless…following soon after, are all systems pertaining to the monitoring of the surroundings. I watch in horror as the equipment on the left panel indicates that Wing no longer exist. More disturbingly, all signs of my continued life seem to have shut down, or at least, so the machines monitoring them display.

“How?”

“I need you to show us what the prototype looks like, that way, only it and the working model will be destroyed.”

“but, Heero, I do not support fighting…I…”

“OZ has built themselves a human barrier, and there are only two ways around it…one is to go in, and get out, hurting as few people as possible, and destroying only that which needs to be destroyed. The other is to go in, and plow the area down…nothing survives that. Relena, if I must, I will level the facilities.”

“Heero…I can’t I…I… I’ll help.”

Suddenly, I realize that another wave of light is moving towards me, hidden before within the overall whiteness, but blatantly obvious now that I know to look for it. As the white pools around my waist, the bluish light of the second wave moves more quickly, breaking through its white shell and surrounding my shoulders.

Someone is screaming.

The blue light washes over my head.

I realize that it is me.

“Arigatou, Relena-sama.”

******
Comments? critisism? especially critisism?
Would you like to see Relena die?
Would you like her alive?
Anyone out there understand the workings of the crap that I call a brain?