evocates: (Default)
• just another dreamer • ([personal profile] evocates) wrote2005-12-27 12:54 am
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[FIC] GW: November

November

Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: 1x5
Rating: PG-13
Words: 715
Summary: “Wufei hated the holidays, winter in particular.” Deathfic. Angst.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing.


Wufei hated the holidays, winter in particular.

It was oddly fitting, he supposed, that he had lost so many during winter, during the ‘season of giving’ that so many was fond of. Wufei was never one for festivities, true, but it didn’t mean that he wanted this to happen.

The first was Meiran, his child-bride whom he saw more as a sister than anything else. He realized that he loved her only when she collapsed in his arms, breath rattling in her chest and face too pale for comfort. He realized that he loved her beyond a sister only when she stopped breathing, a soft smile still on her lips, almost mocking him for his failure.

She died during the last days of November, a few days before the ‘winter switch’ was flicked on.

Treize was second, though Wufei doubted the man would be happy to know that. He had enjoyed being first far too much. A man he respected, a man whom Wufei knew would understand him. Wufei killed him, and his hands were stained with more blood when Treize died than when Wufei brought down the Lake Victoria Academy. Oddly enough, it brought comfort.

He died during the day before Christmas, the day before the world was saved.

The last was Heero, the man whom Wufei loved, though not by choice. Heero had forced himself into Wufei’s heart, settling himself inside the cramped space with far more ease that Wufei expected. Heero died during a mission, throwing himself in front of a bullet to save Wufei even when he didn’t want to be saved. Heero was far too self-sacrificing for his own good, and Wufei loved him and hated him both for that.

He died the day before the New Year; a day when all past grievances was swept under a rug and a new beginning was formed.

Wufei never had a new beginning, for his future died when Heero did. Duo would have told him not to be this dramatic, but, somehow, it was true. Wufei could never get the image of Heero’s dying face out of his mind, the blood staining the Preventers’ uniform, the tanned skin turning ash-white in his arms even as he screamed for Heero to wake up, to not die. He could never forget the feeling of muscles tightening, stiffening even as Heero’s hand dropped from his, limp and stiff at the same time. He could always remember dimming blue eyes and the slight, damnably relieved smile on Heero’s blue lips when he died. He could never stop thinking about the velvet soft lips under his own, turning cold and hard even as he shook Heero, screaming brokenly for him to wake up wake up this is a nightmare it is not real!

Wufei could never forget, for he would never want to. He wanted to remember, to have a reminder of all the deaths. Duo may call himself the God of Death, but it was Wufei who had lost everything he touched, Meiran, his colony, Treize and now Heero. Wufei was never religious, but he believed that it was perhaps because Wufei was tainted, tainted by luck that he survived while the others died. He was tainted, cursed by Lady Luck to watch his loved ones die.

He could not taint another, because it was all his fault all his fault all his fault and he never wanted another to die he wanted them to live and therefore he must die because it was only fair.

The night was cold, the wind unforgiving as snow drifted around him. Wufei knelt, reaching out towards the marble headstone as he drew tea and food and wine from the basket, placing them in front of the grave. Black metal joined them, Wufei placing it next to him. He still remembered the various customs of his family, even after such a long time.

The stone felt cold under his hands, colder than the metal but still warmer than Heero’s lips when he died. The metal in his hands felt calming, soothing in its familiarity as he caressed it even as he caressed the engraved letterings on the headstone. He smiled, empty eyes warming slightly as he felt the cool metal against his temple.

The snow was stained crimson that night.

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I am a morbid person. ^^