Memories

Title: Memories

Fandom: Gundam Wing AC

Parings: 1x2

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing, it belongs to lots of others. If I did it would be illegal for anyone under 18 to watch. Mores the pity.

Warnings: Supernatural, lemon (Though bit of a weak one for me!) Very, very post EW (you’ll see) oh and death… I won’t apologise for that either coz there’s a happy ending!!!

Notes: Okay, this fic was inspired mostly by the video but the song as well of ‘Memories’ by Within Temptation. If you don’t know it, look it up on youtube. It’s really pretty. Just watch it after reading the fic! But hence the title. Bit odd this fic. Just my muses having fun I think. Very unrealistic so please don’t tell me that, I know. But reviews are gratefully appreciated.

Thanks: This was Siren (yes her again) Grim and Sparkle’s fault. (My song fic, death fic and fantasy fic muses.) With a little help from Romy and Citronella (my romance and lemon muses.) I need to thank them as they would eat my brain and I wouldn’t be able to write any more. (I need to apologise for my muses names. They named themselves. Bad idea.)

Summery: An old man sits at a window, thinking on the past. A nurse helps to give him the salvation that he needs.

-x-

The building sat at the end of a rather grand, yet short, driveway. It was a modern build but styled with ancient Greek motifs in mind. Tall pillars and decorated panels lined the front. Cherubs and half naked but beautiful ladies filled small alcoves. There was even a fountain at the front, delicately spraying water into a pool full of glistening fish. It was built from limestone, flawless, pale and sparkling in the sun, a dead giveaway for its lack of age. Bay windows ran across the lower floor, allowing residents to see out. Many of the upstairs windows were bowed out for the same reason. From a distance it looked like a mansion. It certainly appeared grand enough. The building was, in fact, an old people’s home. It wasn’t for the rich and famous despite appearances, but was comfortable, as was needed.

From a high window, an old man stared out. He sat motionless, seemingly staring with eyes that had watered down with age, the colour washed out. A pale blue lingered but nothing as intense as in his youth. The hair, although slightly mad, was still thick but had turned to snow. The slim frame was more skeletal, the skin more leathery. Lines and wrinkles had deepened, resembling a brown paper bag somewhat. Strength was certainly not what it used to be. The hands shook slightly from palsy, a condition that had occurred only recently. The joints of the hands were also swollen from arthritis, a fact that was very irritating. But nothing really mattered. Not now. Not any more. Not since…

“Still here? You should be downstairs with the others.”

“Hn.” A short and pointless reply, but it was more than the nurses sometimes got.

“Come on, don’t be such a sour puss.” A glare that had also watered down with age. Katherine, the nurse, sighed but walked over to the man and sat beside him. They sat in silence for a moment. “What is it you think of when you look out there? I’ve seen many old folks in my time. Many stare out into nothing, but you, you seem to have such a focus.” No reply. She was about to stand again when a crackly voice finally spoke.

“Someone dear to me. But it doesn’t matter.” She knelt down in front of him, trying to catch his eyes, taking hold of his shaking hands.

“Of course it matters. Memories are the strongest things you can possess.” There was a ghost of a smile on those thin lips.

“That’s the sort of thing he would have said.”

“Who was ‘he’? A friend?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Circles, it was always circles with this one. Never revealed much of himself. Even the home didn’t really know who he was, there was no family and no one seemed to visit him. There must have been at some point for he still bore a gold band on his left hand ring finger. He never spoke of the matter however. Just a strange, lonely old man, that needed looking after. But she knew there was something different about him. She just couldn’t place it. “Can I ask…?”

“Go on.” She urged, it wasn’t often this man asked for anything.

“Nothing.”

“Now don’t give me that. Go on.” Finally the blue eyes looked directly at her, it sent a chill up her spine, they seemed so cold.

“Can you take me somewhere?”

“You have somewhere in mind?” He nodded. After thinking for a moment she agreed. “I’ll drive you.”

-x-

Katherine stared as she looked out of the windscreen. She couldn’t believe the building in front of her. It looked like it belonged to a gothic horror novel; Dracula would have certainly felt at home. The walls were grey stone, with high arched windows and even had gargoyles perched in various places. If the old people’s home suggested light and hope, this place certainly suggested darkness and despair. But somehow, despite appearances, it wasn’t scary just… sad. The very windows seemed to be crying, evidence of water running down the ornately carved window frames left greenish trails. This place was old but depressingly beautiful. It was half covered in ivy, which seemed to add to its mystery. It would have been a sight in its heyday. It made her wonder why this man wanted to come here.

“Is this the place?” She knew it was a stupid question but she wanted to make sure. He simply nodded. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No!” He looked at her sharply. It was the most emotive word she had ever heard from him and was taken aback by it. He quickly returned to his normal state. “I’m fine. I used to live here.” Some comprehension to this enigma at last. But the house didn’t seem very ‘him’. She couldn’t explain it. “Can you take me back in a couple of hours?”

“Sure. You laying your ghosts to rest then?” She asked quietly.

“Something like that.” He replied simply before climbing slowly and carefully out of the car.

“You sure you’re ok?” She asked as he watched him struggle slightly. He was still so independent, like he was trying to keep hold of all his dignity. He waved her away, hobbled over to the dilapidated building and after watching her drive from the house he carefully approached the large, wooden door.

-x-

‘He’ had insisted on this place. And there was no point in arguing. It was ‘his’ house, it was like they belonged to each other. Like ‘they’ had belonged to each other. It was so right. He raised a shaking hand up to the large gargoyle knocker. It was beautiful in its own way and dark in another. Just like ‘he’ had been. He pulled the large ornate key from his pocket and opened the door.

The dust was a carpet in itself, thick and grey, proof of the passage of time. As he moved forward it swirled up around him, a strange cloak that glinted in the sun beams that strained through grimy windows. It saddened him to see his home like this, but with each step he took, his heart felt lighter and his age seemed to slip away from him. Yes, sometimes memories were good to keep, as they were what fuelled him now. Kept him moving forward. He never wanted to forget but sometimes it was hard to remember. A lot of things had been slipping away from him lately. A sound suddenly caught his ear. Was that music? It sounded like… a piano. And could that be a flute and violin playing along? Was there someone else in the house? How could there be, the door was locked. He followed the music to the large sitting room, which had been dubbed the ‘music room’. The doors were pulled to. There was definitely music. He could hear it loud and clear. He pushed the doors forwards.

The music stopped instantly as if it was never there.

“Hello.” His voice sounded stronger, younger. He walked into the middle of the room. “Is there anyone there?” Silence was all that answered him. Maybe he was hearing things. He was old after all. But it had sounded just like Quatre and Trowa playing the violin and flute. But that was not possible. They had both died a few years back. The piano… no he wouldn’t think on that.

He looked around the room once more, nothing had been disturbed. The grand piano sat in the middle of the room, the once shiny, black surface covered in dust, the keys also covered in their own blanket. There was certainly no way that anybody could have played it. He had certainly never touched it since the day that…

It was his mind playing tricks on him, being back in this place was enough to do that. But he had to come here. He had to say goodbye properly. He had put it off for too long. He needed his closure. After taking the room in once more, he walked back out leaving the doors open.

He walked through the house once more, saddened as he passed a window that had shattered at some point and had let the autumn leaves float in. The wind tousled his hair as he walked past.

He finally walked to the stairs. The staircase was actually inaccurate to the building but when they had moved here the old one needed replacing. Wrought iron had been the material of choice. Black and solid, but also pretty. ‘He’ had had an obsession with ‘pretty’ things. Probably from their lack of such objects in their chequered past. As he put his hand on it, the cold metal still felt as solid as ever. He was glad to have something like that to hold on to. It grounded him in reality. He walked up them, surprised at how easy it seemed. Surprisingly he wasn’t even out of breath. Up here he knew there was only one place he wanted to go.

-x-

He walked steadily along the corridor to the third door on the right. The master bedroom. He could feel the lump in his throat forming itself until he couldn’t swallow. Again, the room was covered in dust but not as badly as downstairs. He could still see everything as clear as it had been then. The room had had a black and white theme. The walls were white to keep the room light and airy but the accessories had been black. It was a stark contrast but they complimented each other. Just like ‘they’ had.

This time, that thought gave him a sharp stab in his chest. Memories could be very painful after all, like a reopened wound, and he knew all about that. It was the bed that did it. It had been the central place for his memories. It was there that they had played games, had long discussions, mainly one sided admittedly, made love frequently, had got engaged. It had been romantic at the time but now seemed a little silly. Not the engagement, but the place. He sighed deeply. There were no tears left to spill. They had dried up a long time ago.

“When you were here you always made sure you didn’t leave me behind. You just didn’t count on death.” His voice seemed to break the spell that held the room. Sleeping Beauty would have awoken at that point, just from the sound of his voice. “I was never very religious but I prayed to anyone or anything that would listen, that you would stay with me. But that was selfish. I never could keep you. I hated that you left me. I was alone again. But at least I had my memories of you. The only way I could keep you close.” He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. “I still wish you were with me.” He was surprised at himself for saying so much. Even if it was to an empty room.

A dark shadow in the far corner caught his eye. A long shape was draped with black cloth. He didn’t remember that being there. He walked towards it carefully then pulled the sheet away. Beneath was an ornate mirror. Had he put that cloth over it? Perhaps. He did go through a time when he couldn’t bear to even look at himself but as he did now he thought he would have a heart attack.

Instead of an old haggard man, the reflection showed youth. How he used to be. He looked down at himself, at his hands. Smooth and soft, not wrinkled. He ran his fingers ran down his cheek, the reflection did the same, only to feel soft skin. How could that be possible? His eyes were wide in the reflection, back to the deep Prussian blue of his younger years. It had to be a dream. For in the mirror stood the Heero Yuy of the past.

-x-

Heero stood mesmerised, staring at his reflection. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. There was no way… He looked down at his own hands once more again noticing their silkiness. He gazed back in the mirror. Dark brown bangs hung into his deep blue eyes, his face as supple and smooth as his hands. He had to be dreaming. He took a step back hoping to find that the image would change but it didn’t. It had been a long time since he had seen that particular visage. Dressed in white, certainly not the clothes he had been wearing when he had walked in here, he seemed to glow like some wingless angel as the sun streamed through the dusty window.

It was then that he felt it.

A brush against his cheek.

As he gazed into the mirror he noticed his bangs move. He watched as they were moved away from his eyes. He felt another brush against his neck. It was warm and gentle, like a kiss. Then the whisper in his ear.

“Heero.” Heero fell backwards, staring wildly around the room, trying to find some reason for what had just occurred. The room remained still. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat. Heero Yuy had never been afraid of anything. But that had severely shaken him up. Most fears he could explain away rationally. There was nothing rational however, about what had just transpired. That was what had frightened him. Maybe he was loosing his mind after all.

He heard it again.

Music.

Floating through the house.

A piano solo this time. It brought tears to his eyes. It really couldn’t be possible. That tune wrenched at his heart. If only it had been something else. Why did it have to be Pachebel’s Canon? He got up off the floor and began to walk through the house once more.

This time as he walked, he took in the dusty pictures on the walls. A flower here, a still life there, an occasional landscape. All signed H. Yuy and dated. He had painted those as he had listened to that tune being learned, practised and perfected. The eerie echo of the keyed instrument pulled him through the corridors and down the stairs.

When the wars had ended, all five pilots decided they had wanted to create rather than destroy. Wufei had re-married and went into teaching, despite the fact he insisted he hated children, then went on to have three of his own. Trowa and Quatre had become a couple and had decided to work together, mostly running Quatre’s inherited company. In their spare time they would visit Heero and Duo. Ultimately ending up staying with them when the business took care of itself. The two of them had taken longer to become a couple, but they did gravitate towards each other finding comfort and understanding in each other. They had married and had found this house which Duo had fallen in love with at first sight and the pair of them did it up together. Duo had decided to work at the local orphanage and Heero worked in an IT development company. But they had wanted more than that from life.

Finally Duo decided he wanted to learn to play an instrument as he had never been given a chance before. While trying out many different ones, ‘killing’ them in the process, he finally found his calling for playing the piano. Quatre had said it was his long, delicate fingers that had helped. Heero had noticed those fingers but for completely different reasons.

While Duo learned to play Heero would sit and sketch pictures, before the others realised what a talent he had and he started expanding his art. It had become a common scene to find Quatre, Trowa and Duo playing their respective instruments while Heero sat in a corner working on his latest masterpiece.

Heero’s favourite time had been when he and Duo were alone. Duo would sit himself at the grand and play Pachebel’s Canon. It was soft, lilting and beautiful. Heero could have listened to hours of that, and he had. Their peace and happiness had lasted for many years but like all things, it had to come to an end.

Duo’s last moments had been peaceful at least. His younger years as an L2 orphan had finally taken their toll, cutting his life shorter than it should have been. Heero had been beside him the whole time. He had known his life was ending and didn’t want to leave Heero alone. He did make the Japanese man promise he would carry on with his own life. Find his own way.

As soon as his lover was gone, Heero vowed never to touch the piano again and never to paint or draw again. He had lost his heart and had returned to his cold pre war days. The others had all left this world one by one leaving Heero alone.

For a while he remained in the house. He was unable to go into the master bedroom and never went into the music room. It had hurt too much. Eventually he gave up. Now an old man, he admitted to himself that he couldn’t stay in the house any longer and had moved to the old people’s home, where he could at least escape from the memories.

The memories had stayed, clung to him like the dust clung to the house. They finally became easier to bear and Heero found some comfort in them. What else did he have left in this life other than those memories? Now he had come to ask forgiveness but he had never expected this.

-x-

He approached the music room slowly. Not sure if he would find anything this time either. Perhaps it would just prove that he was just a mad, old man, despite his present looks. But more than anything, he was afraid. He was afraid that if he looked, the music would stop again and didn’t think he could bear it.

Finally he pulled himself together. He took the few more steps that put him central to the door. He continued to stare down the hall. Holding his breath he turned his head to look into the room. It was almost the second time he had fallen that day. A single word escaped his lips in a breath.

“Duo.”

Sat at the black, grand piano, sat Heero’s long dead lover and husband, eyes closed, playing away the tune he had committed to memory. Heero simply stared, struck dumb by the vision before him. He had to be dreaming. There was no way this could have been real. Things like this didn’t happen in real life.

Heero took in every inch of the man he hadn’t seen for years. Duo must have been in his early twenties, same as his own reflection had shown him. Chestnut brown hair trailing down his back in the familiar braid, the sun sending streaks of copper through it. That braid had gone with him to the grave, even though it had been silver by then. His skin was pale like milk but had always been that way, a fact of living in space. He never got a sun tan the whole time that they were together; he had found that he burned too easily. Dressed in a black dress shirt, the top buttons left undone and simple black trousers, he radiated sensuality. No matter the constant thought that continued to remind him that the figure sitting in front of him was dead, all his blood still seemed to pool to his groin. Heero groaned slightly.

At the quiet and unintentional interruption, fingers stilled on the keyboard, the last notes echoing in the dusty room. Finally large, violet eyes opened and settled on the very alive figure standing in the doorway.

“You came back.” It was a simple statement nothing more. But the sound of his voice rang through Heero’s head, bringing tears to his eyes. Duo sounded just like he remembered. He moved away from the piano and walked over to Heero. The Japanese man was rooted to the ground, found he couldn’t move. The braided man stopped one step away, gazing right back at Heero.

“You can’t be real, you’re…” Duo laughed. It was a beautiful sound but the way that it seemed to echo was unnatural.

“Dead? Yeah, I know, but hey, when has something like a little death been a problem for us?” Even in death Duo still had his sense of humour.

“B-but how is it possible?” Heero stammered, still unsure how to take the apparition in front of him.

“Um, I don’t know technicalities Heero, but let’s just say, I didn’t want to leave you on your own… but then you left me.” The last was said quietly and without the smile. “We missed you, I missed you.”

“We?” Heero looked a little surprised. The smile returned even if it was a little sad.

“Yeah Quat and Tro are bound here too. We all cared for you too much. Knew that you needed us. Wufei was loved elsewhere, he passed over, so it’s just us.”

“All this time, while I sat here dreaming you were here with me still, and you were. Why didn’t you ever show yourself, let me know.” Duo looked away, uncomfortable with that question.

“We tried Heero, but you were so gone in your grief, you never noticed.” It was Heero’s turn to look away. Thinking back, he remembered little things, the way certain things had fallen to the floor, how some things moved when he was sure they were somewhere else. And he had brushed it away thinking it was his own mind forgetting things, clumsiness or simply he was going mad.

“I’m sorry Duo. If I’d known…” A loving smile caressed Duo’s lips.

“I’m sorry too Heero, that you were in that much pain and I couldn’t help you.” Heero wanted to reply but suddenly found solid fingers against his lips. Once more Prussian eyes grew wide. A glimmer of that cheeky grin appeared. “The mind is an amazing thing. Don’t ask questions, be thankful for the chance.” Heero nodded and suddenly found himself falling into Duo’s arms, feeling that solid frame once more, holding him tightly.

“Gods I’ve missed you so much.” He murmured into Duo’s shoulder.

“I know love. I’ve missed you too.” Suddenly, Heero was looking up at him and their lips met in a forceful kiss, telling each other exactly how much each was missed.

“I want you Duo. It’s been so long… Can you…?” The grin returned full force.

“I’m yours baby.” He winked at his lover. Hand in hand they made it back through the house and to the master bedroom. Heero had barely been able to take his eyes off of his lover, taking in everything and refreshing his memories, which he now realised had become a little hazy. He was still sure this was a dream and he would wake up any moment, to curse reality for such dreams, yet if it was he didn’t want to wake up.

-x-

When they had stepped into the room Duo had turned to Heero, breathing deeply.

“It’s good to have you back lover.” Heero only murmured a reply as Duo’s fingers found their way under his top. He closed his eyes and let Duo’s hands work their magic, trailing patterns over his skin and pulling his top off. The cool air surrounding his heating skin quickly gave him goose bumps, but he was sure that it wasn’t just the air. Duo closed the distance breathing against Heero’s neck, making him shiver. The brush of fabric against Heero’s chest made his nipples harden instantly.

Duo let his lips brush against Heero’s neck, knowing his lover liked being kissed there and smiled when Heero moaned slightly. His smile widened when he felt fumbling fingers at his shirt trying to undo buttons. Finally, with a loud growl, Heero simply pulled the fabric apart, sending buttons scattering everywhere.

“You know, I liked that shirt.” Duo grumbled.

“But I like you out of it more.” Heero murmured, his voice deep and throaty, “May I?” His fingers played with the band hold Duo’s braid together.

“You know you don’t have to ask.”

“I like to anyway.” Heero replied thoughtfully as he pulled the band away then ran his fingers through the twists releasing the wave of chestnut. He gazed at Duo once more before sweeping him off his feet and placing him on the bed. Before joining him, he stripped off his trousers, thrilled by the fact that it was Duo seeing him naked again instead of the nurses. He quickly brushed that thought aside before it lead him down a road he really didn’t want to go down. He returned his focus to the man in front of him who was eyeing him greedily. Those purple eyes shining brighter than any diamond. The smile equally as bright. His hair surrounded him like a satin blanket. He was easily the sexiest man to have ever lived, or died Heero reminded himself. But it didn’t matter any more. All that mattered was that they had this moment together. Before Heero could move any further, Duo moved over the bed, laid on his front and took Heero’s firm arousal into his hands.

Heero threw his head back gasping at the touch. It had been far too long since he had been touched like that. He looked down at Duo, who was looking back at him with mischief darkened eyes. A flash of a grin and Duo’s mouth was around Heero’s cock, taking in as much as he could manage, using his tongue to tease. Heero moaned deep and loud. How could he have lived without this? The answer was, he hadn’t.

“Duo, please.” He hissed, knowing if his lover made him cum now, he couldn’t bear anymore. And he wanted to cum in Duo, with Duo, more than anything. Duo seemed to know what Heero was thinking. He carefully removed his mouth then crawled up the bed, wiggling his hips more than was necessary. He gazed back at Heero with ‘come hither’ eyes and the Japanese man couldn’t resist. He quickly followed Duo up the four poster bed.

That had been another of Duo’s little quirks. The four poster bed. Needless to say it had become a useful accessory in their love life. But not this time. Now was for rekindling what had been lost, forgotten or left behind. Heero kissed those soft lips once more while his hands worked on the trousers still covering his lover. He growled in frustration when they wouldn’t do as he wanted. He broke the kiss to put his full concentration on them. Duo couldn’t help the snigger.

“A simple pair of trousers defeating the mighty Heero Yuy. Who would have thought it?” Heero paused in his work and glared at Duo. “Ooh I’m scared.” Heero finally pulled the offending fabric off and placed himself over Duo.

“You should be.” He growled out, sending shivers down Duo’s spine. “I won’t be defeated by inanimate material.” Duo sniggered again which was dragged out into a moan as Heero’s mouth found one of his nipples. The moan turned into a gasp as Heero used his teeth to nibble at the sensitive flesh. He knelt between Duo’s spread legs, enjoying the familiar territory. He ran his hands down Duo’s legs then back up to his chest, down his abdomen and trailed fingers along the insides of soft thighs. Duo squirmed a bit. Heero paused then. “Duo, what about…?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But I do.” The long haired man looked up intensely.

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, I don’t think I can bleed anyway.” That thought stilled Heero. He didn’t want to be reminded that Duo wasn’t actually alive. Did that make him a necrophile? Now that was a thought he REALLY didn’t want. It was enough to make him pause. Duo sat up and held him. “Don’t think on it love, please. I need you.” He kissed Heero, trying to draw him back, make him relax. Finally he did. “Take me love.”

Trying not to think too hard on the matter, Heero, settled himself more comfortably and guided himself to Duo’s tight hole. Prussian clashed with violet for a moment. “Do it!” Duo ordered. With a brief nod Heero eased himself forward. Duo gasped but gave no sign of pain. The blue eyed man was surprised how easily Duo’s passage opened for him and how warm and tight he was. He was breathing harshly by the time he was seated, his eyes closed in concentration and enjoyment. Duo was panting as well and running his hands down Heero’s sweating back. He wriggled himself to let Heero know he was ready, then wrapped his legs around his Heero’s waist. A moan escaped him as he felt Heero slip deeper inside him.

Heero took the hint and began sliding out then thrusting back in, making Duo’s breath hitch. A smirk of his own slid into place. Oh yes, he still had it. After a few more thrusts Duo begged for more and Heero willingly complied, pounding into the long haired man below him. Their moans filling the room with more noise than the house had heard in years.

Heero knew it couldn’t last, he could feel himself reaching the edge and knew he would fall quickly. He found Duo’s erection between them and began to pump in time to his thrusts. As he hit his orgasm he only briefly realised that although Duo orgasmed with him, he did not physically cum. He was too drained to think on it though as he slumped against his ghostly lover.

-x-

It wasn’t long before he had the energy to move again and was glad that Duo was still beside him. But it was the look on Duo’s face that made him worry.

“What’s wrong?”

“Me?” Duo looked a little startled. “Nothing. I was just thinking and wondering.”

“About?” Duo looked a little hesitant.

“All the time you sat doing your art, you never drew me. Then you gave up, I hated that you gave up. Heero, will you draw my portrait.” Heero looked away for a moment.

“Alright Duo, I will draw you, but it is the last thing I’ll ever draw.” Duo nodded at that, he was simply grateful that Heero would even do that. Heero climbed out of the bed and over to a large chest of drawers. He pulled one of the drawers open and looked inside. All of his art kit sat there waiting as if it had been put there yesterday. He knew some of the paints would be useless but his pencils would be fine. He pulled out the tin and a pad and sat himself in a nearby chair. Duo sat on the edge of the bed. “Now, I know this is hard for you, but don’t move.” Duo stuck his tongue out but did as he was told. Heero set to work.

-x-

“I’m sorry. I have to go back.”

“I know, but it’s like we’ve only just got you back and you’re off again. It’s worse than the war.” Heero kissed the top of Duo’s head.

“I want to stay. More than ever.” Duo sat up and looked down at Heero.

“I want you to but I know you have to leave. But don’t worry; you’ll be back soon enough.” He frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Duo just smiled and shrugged. When Heero had finished his picture he had climbed back into bed to just hold Duo. Now though the long haired man climbed out of bed. “Duo? Where are you going?” Sad, violet eyes turned back to Heero.

“It is my turn to leave as well.”

“Leave? Where? Duo?” Heero could hear panic filling his voice.

“Have no fear Heero love. I’ll still be here.”

“Duo, no.” He reached out to grab his lover but found this time his hand went straight through. “Duo? Please!”

“I’m sorry Heero. I love you.” Heero watched as his lover faded from view entirely. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling down his cheeks, even when he felt the brush of fingers through his hair and a feather light kiss against his lips.

-x-

The horn beeped once more. Alright, alright. He was on his way.

At the top of the stairs he had almost started running but by halfway down he was out of breath, now near the bottom he was struggling to walk. He finally made it out of the house and locked up. As he fitted the key into the lock he noticed his hands, wrinkled like a prune once more. But despite the tears he smiled, he had had his second chance, as brief as it had been. He waved to Katherine in the car and hobbled over to her.

“Are you alright, I was getting worried.” Heero gave her a small smile.

“I’m better than I have been for a while.” They drove back to the home in silence. But it was a comfortable silence. Katherine was itching to know what had cheered the old man up so much but she didn’t dare ask.

-x-

Heero couldn’t sleep that night. He sat in his chair and stared out of the window. Had he actually dreamed the day? He was old after all, and old people fell asleep easily. He just didn’t want to think it was. It was then he felt something in his shirt pocket. A shaking hand managed to get inside and pull it out. It was a folded piece of paper. Carefully he opened it.

He stared down at the portrait. Yes, it was Duo but he had also drawn himself. When Duo had told him that Heero had never drawn him, he remembered he had never drawn himself either. He suddenly realised that he never showed Duo the drawing. In fact he had closed the pad up once he had finished it. How had it come to be in his pocket? Duo. The only explanation. He smiled down at the picture. Proof. Solid proof that today had been real.

“Heero.” Heero looked around him. Now he was hearing things. He looked back down at the picture. He jumped when there was a hand on his shoulder. He looked up.

“Duo?” The braided man smiled in acknowledgement. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s time to go Heero.” The old man was confused, his brow furrowed,

“Go where?”

“Home love.” He held out his hand and Heero took it. As he stood, he felt that lightness that he had felt earlier in the day. “I told you, you would be back.” Duo wrapped his arms around Heero’s waist. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Until the end of time.” Heero whispered back. As their lips met they both vanished from the room.

-x-

Katherine walked in the next day.

“Heero Yuy. You’re Heero Yuy. You fought in the wars and everything. Why didn’t you tell anybody?” As she approached the chair she realised something was wrong. The old man didn’t make a sound. He didn’t move, not even a breath. Katherine sighed and went to the window, opening it wide, just in case. She was sure a spirit such as his would have already found a way out but it was respectful.

“You were the last of the great heroes that brought peace to this Earth and the colonies and you never told anyone. What’s this?” She picked up the piece of paper from the floor. She stared at the beautiful drawing.

“You and Duo Maxwell. It’s only because I looked it up on the net last night. You were married to him weren’t you? That’s who you meant when you said ‘he’. That’s who you always thought of when you looked out this window.” Katherine took a deep sigh. She knew she was talking to nothing but she wanted to hear something even if it was the sound of her own voice. She smiled as she read the inscription.

‘Duo and I: Memories’.

She knew exactly what she should do with it. She folded it up and put it in her pocket.

-x-

She walked up to the door and pushed the piece of paper through the unyielding letter box. It probably hadn’t been used in years. That picture belonged in that house somehow. She could never have said why. It just seemed right. It couldn’t be just thrown away like a piece of rubbish. Maybe it would be worth something one day, she hoped it would be. Let someone else find it, if they ever did.

As she began to walk away back to her car, she heard the lilting song of a flute and a humming of a violin, playing a haunting tune. She shook her head, she was going crazy.

She never saw the two smiling faces watching her through dusty windows. They turned away as she drove off, kissed each other then spun away in a waltz, to dance for as long as they liked. Once again in each others arms. Filled with their memories of life.