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Good Luck and Good Bye
By Granate, 2002
I wrote this because I got sick of all the "Duo has a break down and goes
crazy/tries to kill himself if Heero leaves him" fics. Granted some of them a really great, but I wanted to give Duo a little more credit and a little
more brains for a change!
Pairings: 1x2 implied
Warnings: SPOILERS, sad, angsty.
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It's been six months since the war ended, and I'm living with Hilde on L2. We're housemates, we
work for the same place. It seems natural; she's a great friend, and I know she'd like to start
something. I think I might, too. I like her a lot. But not now. Not yet.
He still consumes me. God, all this time and I'm STILL having those dreams… I don't sleep much. She wonders if
I'm ok, why I pace the house at night, why I'm at the table drawing at all hours of the night. I work a lot, more
than I used to. I think Heero would find it amusing that I work so much, I can imagine his smirk.
It's a way
to keep occupied, something to do to keep my mind from wandering to bare skin, quickening breaths, clutching fingers…
God, I could fantasize for hours about making love with him, it's still so real to me. Shit, it's torture. And it
leaves me in a rather 'uncomfortable' state, so I don't let myself do it. Lying in bed alone is the worst. So I
work instead. And when I don't have any work, I make up projects for myself.
He left without even a goodbye. But maybe that would have made it harder, you know? I told him to, and I meant
it. I told him to do whatever he wanted after the war was over, and not to think about me, and I meant it. At the
time, he just gave me the dubious 'baka' eyebrow lift, but that's what he did in the end. It hurts, but so what?
I don't own him and he doesn't owe me anything. We're young, we gotta find things out for ourselves, and I wouldn't
hold him back for anything, not for love or sex or certainly pride. He needs to be alone, I understand that. And
what if it hadn't worked out anyway? That would have hurt more I think. It's ok, it's really ok. I got my own shit
to figure out too, things I gotta deal with on my own.
All right, I admit it, it makes me sick with jealousy to think of him with someone else. I'm only human. It's because
I still love him and I still want him so bad. But I squash it 'cause it's not right. I DO want him to find happiness.
I'll love again, and he should find love too. At least I got a little bit of satisfaction a while ago. About
a month after the war ended, Relena Peacecraft came here looking for Heero.
I could scarcely believe it. She said Quatre
told her he would be here. I can't believe she bothered Quatre, he's still in the hospital… I worry about
him too. And she didn't even believe me when I said I hadn't seen Heero since the day he blew up the Libra. She had
people following me (not-so-inconspicuously I might add) and I even found bugs on my com lines! But at least I know
Heero isn't with Relena. I'm evil, I know. But who am I to talk? He isn't with me either.
But that gave me a little insight as to why he left, anyway. He probably knew she wouldn't leave him alone. And
he doesn't want a big deal made about what he did. None of us do. Wu Fei disappeared too, and Trowa is hiding out
somewhere. I'm keeping a low profile here as well, I don't want anyone to know who I am. It's a lot to deal with,
killing so many people can never be truly justified. And now trying to readjust to peace. It's been rocky. Maybe
it would have been easier to deal with if I had Heero here, but then again, maybe it would have torn us apart.
Like I said, maybe it's better this way.
Love. What a mess. I thought it wouldn't happen to me again - I swore it wouldn't.
I can never seem to hold onto those I love, they are always taken from me. It
was easier to go through life not loving anything. Man, did I screw up with Heero.
He woke something in me, something dormant, and all the armor I'd built out of my pain
just crumbled away. It was watching his transformation that broke me.
Something awoke in him, too. Maybe I did it, or maybe I was just there, I don't know, but he gave it to me,
and I'll never, NEVER wish it hadn't happened.
I just wish I had more than memories of him, because I fear they'll fade. Everyday I wonder what subtle touch or
what beautiful, faint expression I'm going to forget. I wish that he'd left me with something more. Maybe this
is sick, but a mark on me. Something I can look at and remember him. But the nail marks on my back all healed,
so did the hickeys, and the bite marks. Why is it that the bad, horrible things always leave their mark on me,
but never the good things? Look at my body, look at my scars: pain was here, starvation was here, desperation
was here, suffering, guilt, sorrow. Why not love? Or happiness or joy?? Why not true friends, or family, or first
love? Solo, Maxwell's, Heero…. I was left with nothing to remember them by. Well,
I took my name from the first two, I
guess. But Heero… my first in so many ways, you gave me so much, but at the same time, I have nothing from you.
I miss him. I guess that's what it all boils down to. Sometimes, I'm pissed off at him, and I curse him for just
leaving me, and not even reassuring me, or telling me where he was going. Other times, I get a little depressed,
hurt that I wasn't enough for him, sad that I couldn't give him everything he needed. But most of the time, I feel
ok about it, just hoping he's ok and finding what he's looking for. Maybe he's happy? That's what I wish for him,
to find happiness. But through everything, loss is the feeling that's always there. Just another one to throw
in my basket and keep moving on. You could say I'm used to it by now.
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