Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Help Me ❯ Nightmares ( Chapter 1 )

Help Me

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing; it's character, yada yada yada, so on and so forth. I do own this fiction and use it if you wish, just credit me….Brandolan!

Note: This is based on a sad but true story, but I shall not reveal whom. So don't ask. And I am not gay even though I made Heero and Duo gay in this one. I jus don't like Relena and couldn't decide on a good couple. That and Duo's cool. Sorry it isn't divided into chapters. I'm too lazy. And please review! I'm new at this and would love to know what you people think!

They threw him into the cold, small room with its only light coming from the window protruding from the door. They locked the door. "Let me out! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" cried Heero. "No Heero, you were bad. You must remember not to let your emotions interfere with the mission. Now you must be punished," replied Doctor J. "I won't be bad! Let me out!" wailed Heero. "Take off your clothes Heero," was Doctor J's response. "Take them off. Take them off and then we will let you out. If you don't we leave you in there." "No, you'll look!" Heero screamed. "Take them off Heero." No! You're watching! Let me out! I'll be good I swear I'll be good!" "Heero take off your clothes." Hesitantly he undressed knowing that the Doctor was watching. He had to get out. He couldn't stay here. No. He deserved it. He had been a bad boy.

Again and again the scenes played through his head. Sometimes it was much worst then the last time. "Don't touch me! Please!" "Heero you were bad!"

Finally it was too much.

He awoke suddenly covered in sweat and tears. Why did he have to remember those memories? He could handle war, killing people, and even pressing the self-destruct button if the time called for it. Heck, he welcomed suicide. Death would give him peace. He could handle it all, but not what went on in that small dark room within Doctor J's laboratory. He had only been seven years old. Eventually he had stopped crying during those trying moments, and learned to handle the pain, until he became completely devoid of emotion. The only emotions he knew were arrogance of his skills and the feeling of fulfillment when he finished a mission.

He tried his hardest to forget those memories. The war was over, he lived in his own apartment, not with Doctor J, and he didn't need to kill anymore.

The only time he felt remorse after he had been `hurt' by the Doctor was when that little girl and her dog died by his hands. Accident or not, it had been his fault. She had been nice to him and he killed her. And then he met Relena. He didn't have an infatuation with her, or love her or anything like that. She reminded him of the innocent sweet little girl. She had made him human. She had cared for him when no one else had.

Now he was alone. He needed someone to talk to. He couldn't handle keeping this inside any longer. It hurt too damn much. Relena just wouldn't understand. But he needed someone. He thought about it. Trowa might understand, they had always understood each other, but no, Trowa didn't have the emotional sensitivity to deal with it. Quatre had too much sensitivity and he would probably get pity from him. No way would anyone pity him. Wufei was definitely out. Enough said. Duo.

Duo may have been annoying at times and chattering needlessly when no one else would say a word but he had always offered Heero friendship. He would smile through the hard times no matter what and even saved Heero's life a couple times. He had persisted to offer Heero friendship even though Heero shunned him time and time again until Heero grew to trust Duo with his life. They may not have hung out and picked up chicks or done anything normal best friends do but they had an understanding. Heero would compliment him once in awhile in his own way, or they would fix the other's Gundam as a surprise during the war, even if it pissed Heero off the first time Duo fixed it without asking. They could understand each other without needing to carry out a conversation, which suited Heero fine. He was never one for words and couldn't seem to ever find the right ones.

So Heero looked at his alarm clock. 12:30 am. Duo was probably out partying but he would take the chance. The odds of Duo sleeping that `early' were about as high as hell freezing over. But he'd try calling anyway.

He picked up the phone and reluctantly dialled the memorized number belong to the cheerful ex-pilot of the Deathscythe. Not memorized because they would chat for hours, but because every once in awhile Duo would call and ask if Heero wanted to help at the scrapyard or if Heero wanted to work on cars together in his garage. That was their thing. They would bring into Heero's garage some scrapped up cars or rarely motorcycles and they would fix them up and sell them for some cash. Duo didn't live to far so they did it often. They had even fixed up to motor cycles depicting their unique Gundams' colour schemes etc. and where named after them. Wing and DS. That was why Duo's number had been memorized by Heero. That and because Heero's mind was more organized then the President's own desk.

Ring Ring Ring.

"Y'ello? Duo here."

TBC