DISCLAIMER: I don't own gundam wing or any of its characters. I don't even own my car so don't sue me*_*

Gone Away

BY: Lara_Winner

SONG: Offspring

Maybe in another life

Duo Maxwell stared at the picture he held in his hand. The face staring back at him was smiling, blue eyes twinkling, so happy and so alive. Now, however, the picture was the only way to see that beautiful smile and those mesmerizing blue eyes. He'd thought this time it would be different, he'd thought that even though he was the God of Death maybe this time the person he loved wouldn't suffer because of his love. He had been wrong of course. She was gone. She had promised never to leave him, she had promised to love him and be there with him no matter what. But it wasn't like they wanted this. She hadn't planned on dying. He hadn't planned on living without her. He hoped she would wait for him. Obviously fate didn't want him dead yet but he hoped he didn't have too long left. This was slowly killing him. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath. It hurt! It hurt way too much!

He couldn't stay there a minute longer. Tossing the picture on the bed he pulled on his cap and rushed out the front door of the little house. He began walking down the street, his head bowed and his hands jammed in his pockets. He'd lost track how many times he'd done this in the past weeks. When the memories overwhelmed him, when he thought of something he wanted to tell her or when he though he heard her footsteps or her voice in another room. He knew he had to leave. He couldn't stay there anymore but how in the hell was he going to bring himself to leave. That was the only place he could still be close to her yet at the same time it was torture. He couldn't sleep in their bed. Her cent still clung to her pillow and if he lay there he could still fell her body warm against his. Not that he slept anyway. He couldn't go near the couch without seeing her sitting there and besides, he didn't have a desire to watch TV. There wasn't a room in the house he could go that didn't bring up some memory of her. Yet if he left he was terrified he'd eventually forget the little things that being in that house brought to mind.

Duo looked up at the artificial sky and took note that it matched his mood. Dark clouds blocked the light of the sun and he could hear the sound of recorded thunder in the distance.

Duo ignored the people he passed on the street. He had finaly become death. At the thought he laughed ironically. He called himself shinigami, he brought death and destruction to the battlefield, he spared his enemy's no mercy and yet he hadn't truly been death. Now the real Duo Maxwell was dead. It was like watching a movie. The rest of the world laughed and joked and lived as though nothing was wrong and everything was perfect. He could see the expressions cross others faces and he would recognize the emotions vaguely and he could even remember a very short time ago when he felt those emotions and yet now he was completely detached. He felt only one thing. Pain. Everything else was obliterated by the agony that filled him. He wondered if this was how Heero and Trowa had really felt on the inside. No wonder they acted the way they did. He hadn't understood then but now he did. He was dead.

He had been so deep in his thoughts he hadn't even realized where he'd been unconsciously heading. He looked up at the tall wrought iron gates to the cemetery fighting the urge to run. He was here and it was too late to turn back. He pushed open the gate followed the paved path and without really looking up wound his way to his destination. He'd only been here once since the funeral. The bouquet of roses he had brought that morning was still lying where he'd placed them. The once green stems now brown and dried and the once deep, rich, blood red petals now shriveled and black with the barest hint of a breeze breaking them away to scatter across the ground. His eyes roamed over the letters engraved on the marble marker. Even as he read the name he already knew was there his heart twisted viciously. His logical mind knew that she was buried in the ground. That her coffin was right below where he was standing now, but it still felt as if he would feel her walk up behind him at any moment. Almost as if somewhere in the back of his mind he expected it. But he knew better. The roses were a perfect example of how quickly even the most beautiful life fades.

But black roses and Hail Mary's

He knelt down and brushed his fingers lovingly along the cold marble. It read:

Hilde S. Maxwell

June 6, 180 – October 12, 201

The movement of his fingers brought his attention to his wedding ring. He still wore it and had no intention of taking it off. Just because she wasn't here anymore didn't mean he was gonna break his promise. He knew it wouldn't bring her back but he felt it was the last thing he could do for her. After all no one else could ever compare. More than just his wife was taken away, he lost his heart and soul that night. A drop of water fell on his hand and he stiffened when he realized it was a tear. He said he wouldn't cry. Shinigami doesn't cry. Tears don't bring back the dead. She wasn't coming back, EVER!

His hands started shaking as all the rage and grief he kept bottled inside surged to the surface. He raised his eyes to the sky as the first drops or rain began to fall. He couldn't hold it in. Not here. Not now.

"Hilde!" he screamed, shouting the rage of his loss. His head fell forward as his shoulders began to shake with the force of his sobs.

I would

Oblivious to the rain, he continued to kneel on the wet ground long after his tears had stopped. He knew that if she were here she would be fussing about him catching a cold and how he really should go home now. The thought brought the faintest smile to his lips. But then another thought came. He wouldn't be here in the rain in the first place if she were still alive. It should have been him. If anyone deserved to die then it was himself. He was the one who had fought in the war, not Hilde. He would gladly in a heartbeat take her place if she could be given a second chance. She didn't deserve to die. It was so unfair. But if there was one thing Duo had learned in his 21 years it was that fate was a bitch. You didn't get to choose and you didn't get any chances. He had been a fool to think that she would be safe and that he could protect her and not let history repeat itself for a third time. Now he was vulnerable and alone. But he wasn't giving up. His time would come and he would be with her again but for now he would do what Hilde always wanted of him. Learn the value of patience.

And it feels

Determined he stood up and closed his eyes. Maybe he wasn't alone and she really was with him still and maybe he'd never see her again, either way she had his heart wherever she was. For now he had to say goodbye.

"I'll be back, Hilde. I don't know when but I'll be back. Just don't give up on me." He whispered. He realized how he must look talking to a headstone and laughed bitterly.

"You can't even hear me can you?" he asked shaking his head. Flipping his wet braid over his shoulder he shoved his hands in his pockets and started to turn away. He took two steps then paused and turned.

"If you can hear me then for all its worth, I love you and I always will."

And it stings

This time he turned and he didn't look back. The breeze picked up and he ignored the chill that came with the still steady falling rain. He wasn't surprised to see the streets deserted as he left the cemetery behind him. He continued walking keeping his eyes focused straight ahead. Finaly he reached the house and he sighed as he flipped on the light in the living room. Kicking off his dripping shoes padded his way to the bathroom leaving a trail of water. She would pitch a fit if she could see the mess he was making, he thought before he could stop himself. He sighed. It was those kind of thoughts that made him want to leave this place. It wasn't a home anymore it was just a mockery of the warmth that used to exist here. But he was chained here and he would stay. Always tied to the past. Always. He changed his wet clothes and made his way to the bedroom. Flopping on the bed he picked up the picture and ran his finger tips gently over the cold glass. He could identify with the cold. After all, he had lost his last hope for the future when she died, leaving him with the cold memories.