SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING

SAINAN NO KEKKA
Poison: Heero

The underside of the bed was dusty and smelled of mothballs and mildew but it was strangely peaceful at the same time as he stared at the bottom of the bed above him, trying to see how long he could hold his eyes open before he had to blink. They started to burn and he tried to sit up before remembering that he was under the bed, gave a strangled cry as he banged the top of his head on the metal poles and collapsed on the ground again. Took another drink from the half-empty bottle in his left hand.

There were eight more identical bottles lying scattered there, all of them full. He was only halfway through the first bottle and already he could feel the fuzzy edges of drunkenness creeping in upon his vision. With shaking fingers he pulled a cigarette from the almost empty pack, barely managed to light it.

Yes, Wing, she's dead. You killed her.

"I didn't kill her," he informed the bed, smiling because it wasn't talking back. "I didn't kill her. She's not dead."

The officer's club would never miss the bottles of alcohol he'd taken. He hadn't bothered to be discreet about it either, because there was no one around to see him. He'd simply broken the glass and taken them, wrapping them up in his shirt and carrying them nonchalantly back to the room they'd told him was now his new living quarters. The door was securely locked and double-bolted. He smiled again at the memory of that general telling him that he warranted a double-bolted door because he was a…a…something. A war criminal?

Something like that.

It didn't really matter anyway.

He took a long swig of the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It wasn't fair, he reflected fuzzily. It wasn't fair that they'd shot her just because…because what?

He blinked away the smoke from his cigarette, sticking it in his mouth and just inhaling it like it was air to the lungs of a dying man, drinking in the blessed tar and nicotine that Darkflight had said would probably kill him one day.

"Let me die then," he said to the bed.

Atsuki! he'd called. Just one word…her name. She'd turned around. One word. She'd still be alive if he hadn't called her name, maybe.

Nothing was clear anymore. Everything was all wrong…everything. He saw his vision blur, grow clear again, blur. Took another drink. Maybe if he drank enough he would pass out and then get alcohol poisoning and die, just like Darkflight had always said he would. The damn bastard.

He could always kill himself now and get it over with, he supposed. One shot to the head. He had a gun, if he wanted to use it.

Just one shot.

But it wasn't right. It wasn't a gun…it was a knife. His hand crept to his neck, where the knife wasn't. It was still missing. It was gone. Someone had taken it.

She's dead. You killed her.

"You killed her," he slurred, jamming the cigarette into the carpet and watching in fascination as the little black burned spot spread outward. "You killed her, not me. You killed her!"

For some reason the phrase struck him as funny and he grinned, banging his fist against the bottom of the bed. "You killed her! You killed her! You killed her!"

His voice cracked on the last word and a feeling of unspeakable rage washed over him and he picked up one of the unopened bottles of liquor, swung it with all his might against the metal supports, heard the satisfying shattering of glass. The liquor splashed over him and he began to laugh, laughing at the absurdity of it all, laughing because he couldn't cry.

She's dead. You killed her.

Just one word. Just one simple word unspoken and she'd still be here. He thought he heard the door open, thought he heard footsteps.

"I locked the damn door!" he shouted, flinging a shard of glass at the feet he couldn't see. The footsteps stopped and he heard someone kneel by the bed. It was her, her face looking in on him.

"Wing? Why are you hiding down here?"

"I don't know," he managed, staring at her. "I thought you were…"

She frowned at him. "I was what? I'm not anything. Darkflight's looking for you…I thought you two had a contract for tonight."

"We do?"

"Baka," she said, but she was smiling. "I've gotta go…I'm late for work."

"Don't go," he said. He caught hold of her wrist. "Don't go, Atsuki." He could smell the alcohol and smoke on his on rancid breath, but at the moment all that mattered was that she stay close to him. "Don't go…something terrible is going to happen."

She shook her hand from his grasp. "Don't be stupid."

"I'm serious!" He pleaded, catching hold of her again. "Please. Promise me you'll come straight home tonight."

"Wing, I-"

"Just promise." He gripped her hand tightly until she cried out, but he only held on. "Promise me. Now."

"What's wrong with you?" she snapped, tugging at him. "Let me go!"

"Atsuki. Please."

Her gaze softened as she looked down on him and suddenly she bent and kissed him on the cheek. "I promise, Wing. Now let me go. I'm late as it is."

He released her wrist and she smiled again at him before straightening. He heard her feet in the high heels clicking across the floor away from him and then he heard the door slam. Silence.

"Atsuki?" he whispered.

He felt a piercing pain across his left bicep and he looked down, saw that one of the glass shards from the liquor bottle had cut a thin line across his arm and then embedded itself slightly above the elbow. He reached down and yanked it out, not caring that his arm was bleeding.

"Atsuki," he said again, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, curling up. He felt like laughing again.

Yes, Wing, she's dead. You killed her.

"She's not dead," he mumbled. "She'll be back. She promised."

His vision was fuzzy again and he thought he heard a knock on the door.

"She's back," he said to the bottom of the bed. "See, I told you she's not dead. She's come home like she said…like she said."

He crawled out from under the bed, bottle still in hand, and stood unsteadily. His muscles felt like water and he could hardly walk, barely caught himself before he sank to the floor again, clutching his pounding head.

He thought he heard the door open again, saw her clothed in brilliant white, felt her catch him as he fell, wrap her arms around him. Felt the feather touch of wings brush his face. She was glowing.

"Atsuki-" he mouthed, but he couldn't speak.

"Shh," she whispered, and the angel wings rustled. "It's all right, Wing. I'm here. It's all right."

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