Ok, this is my first one shot. I wrote it because, well, I wanted to, and I wanted to write something for Christmas this year. So I hope you all like and enjoy my most unique piece.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the characters or anything else from Gundam Wing.

He walked slowly alone through the rain. His hair plastered against the back of his neck due to the sudden storm that had struck. It didn't help his melancholy mood in the least little bit. His violet eyes watched his feet as he took slow steps. Watching as it slowly became darker. His foot splashed silently through a muddy puddle. He turned and looked back at the cemetery, thinking back to the white flowers he had just left there. The wind blew through the trees reminding him of how cold he was. He picked up his pace.

The darkness surrounded him as he walked. It was never ending. Much like the deep pain that he felt in his soul. Silence escaped the world. The only sound on the empty, desolate streets were his hollow footsteps and the sound of the rain pelting the sidewalk. He stopped in the park. Sitting down on a bench. He watched the swings sway back and fourth. He watched a puddle form at the end of the slide. Lightning twisted in the sky, illuminating his white face. It had beenthree months. He buried his head in his palms, his shirt clinging to his muscular body. Thunder made him shudder. He stood back up, miserable and finished the long walk back to his apartment. He climbed the old creaky stairs, the darkness of the rundown building made him long to be held again. He walked to the door. Apartment 12. He put the key in the lock and turned the handle. The ice cold metal felt unreasonably warm against the palm of his hand. His footsteps echoed in hallway. The door swung opening, revealing a dark, desolate place, much like his heart. What would he do this year?

He walked into the place, shivering. He went into the kitchen and wrung the water out of his braid. Useless. He should be cold. He refused to put the light on. He refused to accept comfort. His echoing footsteps followed him into the living room where he gazed out the rain streaked window. The houses, apartments, and streets were all lined with varying Christmas lights. He closed his eyes, imagining them gone. He brushed his hand against the green tree beside him. Its white lights turned off. He touched one of the crystal balls, cupping it in his hand. It shattered from the coldness of his touch. The glass sliced his skin. He let the blood run loosely down his arm. He stepped away from the window and locked the front door.

He pulled off his saturated clothing, and standing their naked,undid the braid that ran down his back. Strands of hair remained permanently fixed from the moisture to his neck. He ran his fingers through it. Suddenly a light appeared in front of him. A figure appeared, cupping his chin in its hand and bringing its lips silently up against his. He closed his violet eyes and sank into the passionate kiss. He didn't want to be alone. His first Christmas alone in three years. They'd been separated by that terrible accident for three months now. He still remembered the funeral. He clung to the kiss. He refused to let it end. Warmth entered his freezing cold body, spreading from his pink lips to his fingers and toes. And he stood there, naked, being embraced by the white figure. The ghost. His very own Christmas angel. A tear trickled down his cheek. The angel whipped it away with a porcelain white finger. A celestial being. Their bodies entwined with one another.

"Why did you leave me?" He asked the angel, knowing he wouldn't get an answer. The figure smiled and kissed his forehead, running fingers through the young man's hair. They kissed again, warmth once again penetrating the violet eyed man. The wind blew in through a cracked window. The angel drifted. Drifted silently away, its hand lingering under the man's chin. He watched, his eyes filling with tears. "No. Don't leave me again. I can't live without you."

The angel tilted its head. Its eyes locked with his as it drifted away. The angel stopped over the wooden end table. "I love you," it told him.

The young man, tears flooding his eyes, running in streams down his cheeks approached the angel. He opened the cabinet inthe tableslowly and pulled out a silver gun. The angel smiled. The man licked his lips, tasting the salt that ran down his face. He gazed at the Christmas tree and then at the angel again. "I love you, too," he said, his voice quivering. "Give me strength."

The angel nodded and placed porcelain hands on his shoulder as the young man raised the gun to his temple. He shut his eyes and pulled the trigger and the door opened and three other men entered the apartment.

They gazed in horror as Duo's body lay in a pool of blood beside the coffee table, beneath the brilliantly lit Christmas tree, and on the table was his beloved photograph. The photo taken three years ago. The photo of him and his lover. The photo of them smiling on Christmas Eve. The photo of Duo Maxwellin the armsHeero Yuy; and now,they were together again.