Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Symphonys of Roses and Pain ❯ Tainted Love ( Chapter 6 )

Tainted Love

 

There were some wounded soldiers at the door of the church.

 

He could see them almost clearly though he stood behind a protective Sister Helen and Father Maxwell.

 

He could see the new and old blood that stained the once nice and crisp uniforms.

 

“Please…” One of the soldiers, a man no older than twenty pleaded. “Just give us rest and food for one night, and we'll leave you alone.”

 

There was a moment, when he thought that the priest would give in, open his arms like he did to the homeless who needed shelter.

 

But it was gone when the father saw the gun that one of them held.

 

“No.” He stated his voice firm and his brown eyes unusually cold. “I will not allow any soldier, from either side, step foot into this church and in danger it.”

 

There was a tone in Father Maxwell's voice that was final, making the soldiers hang their heads and turn around.

 

Darting out from behind Sister Helen, he sprinted up to where Father Maxwell was closing the church doors and tugged on the bottom of his robes gently.

 

“Father?” He asked, his violet eyes looking at the weary face innocently. “Why did you not let those people in? They was hurt real bad; an' dey was sad when you said no.”

 

The priest made an exasperated sigh and shook his head slowly. “They were rebels Duo; they would have used us as hostages to get at the Alliance.”

 

He made a face and stomped his foot. “But you said that God gives everybody a second chance! How do ya know they wouldn't try and re-re-pent!”

 

He stumbled over the last word, but his eyes were fixed on the priest's face.

 

There was a second of revelation when he knew he'd said the wrong thing.

 

The priest's face seemed to crumple into it's self. There was also a noise of outrage from Sister Helen behind him.

 

But he wouldn't take it back.

 

Sister Helen, no matter how much he got into trouble for it, told him not to lie.

 

So he wasn't going to.

 

He crossed his arms over his chest defiantly and waited for a scolding or the Sister to tell him to go play with the other children.

 

But it never came.

 

All that happened was the Priest slowly bent down on one knee to be eye level with him and brown eyes met violet. “Yes, God does say that we must give men a second chance, even a third or a tenth; but I cannot very well put you, Sister Helen, and all the other children in danger while doing it.”

 

His voice was solemn, but he knew that there was a lie in there somewhere by the way Father Maxwell's right eyebrow twitched.

 

“'Ight,'ight.” He rolled his eyes, disbelief in his voice. His street accent was thicker when he said those two words, retaliating because the Priest had lied.

 

He saw Father Maxwell frown, but he was glad when the holy man didn't say anything.

 

Turning around, he gave Sister Helen a big smile and ran down the isle towards the doors that led out of the Church it's self and into the orphanage.

 

However, before he went through the open doors, he stopped and turned around to where the Sister and the Father were talking quietly. Cupping his hands and placing them over his mouth, he grinned as he called out “I still `un't `lieve in God!”

 

He snickered to himself as he turned around again and ran through the open doors, not waiting to see what Sister Helen and Father Maxwell would do.

 

However, something stopped him in the middle of the hallway.

 

A feeling of dread and guilt.

 

He didn't understand it. But something in the back of his mind told him that this was fake, that something was wrong.

 

He just couldn't place his finger on it.

 

He walked more slowly to the end of the hall, towards the sounds of screaming and laughing children. One hand reached out to the door knob, and his other reached around his back to grip his braid in an instinctive manor.

 

As his fingers touched the cool brass of the doorknob, his other hand touched nothing but air.

 

Whipping around to try and see his braid rise up into the air like it always did, he let out a scream of outrage when he didn't see it.

 

Both hands came up to grip at his hair, searching for that long length that was so familiar to him. But all he found was short locks.

 

Arms came around his stomach and a soft voice spoke in his ear, trying to calm him down as he screamed and screamed. The voice was telling him to let it go, that he didn't need his hair. It told him that if he stayed here, he would be happy and would never know pain.

 

But he did know pain.

 

The pain of Solo's memory being ripped from his mind. The pain of Father Maxwell lying to him, and the pain that this was wrong. This was all wrong.

 

He struggled to get out of those arms, get away from the one who'd made this place all wrong. He wanted to have his hair back, to plead with Father Maxwell to let those people stay so they could heal and get better.

 

He wanted everything to be right again.

 

Bowing his head, he gripped at one of the arm's with his teeth and locked his jaw. There was a moment when the soothing voice stopped, almost as if in shock. During that moment of silence, he started tasting the mix of salty tears and coppery blood in his mouth.

 

The arm was ripped out of his mouth, leaving a large chunk.

 

He coughed it out thought, when the arms that had once been trying to sooth him pushed him to the ground.

 

“I tried to make you happy!” The voice screamed.

 

He could tell that the other was angry, it was like he could feel the heat on his back.

 

Opening his eyes and slowly turning around on his knees, expecting to find a man standing there with a murderous look on his face and a chunk missing out of his arm.

 

However, what he saw there was even worse.

 

He was in front of the church, the ornate brown doors locked and closed for the night.

 

But that's not what made him cry.

 

It was the fact that the church was burning that made him grab at his hair and pull it out in clumps as he screamed.

 

And yet, watching the church burn, it made that feeling of wrongness go away.

 

This was what was supposed to happen. He saw one of the soldiers, the rebels, standing and watching the burning church with a big grin on his face.

 

Slowly getting to his feet, he felt his lips turn up into a sneer, his fists clench at his sides. He could `feel' his eyes harden into little shards of amethyst.

 

But before he could step forward and take his revenge on the rebel, everything went back.

 

The church disappeared, the smell of re-used air faded into nothing.

 

He was all alone.

 

Until someone started coming towards him from the darkness. He couldn't see him; only vaguely make out a tall figure in what appeared to be a business suite.

 

His anger boiled for some reason unknown to him as he saw violet eyes that looked so much like his own. A long, angular face and smile that was only found on idiots.

 

Yet he knew that this was the man responsible for this place that he was in. Responsible for Father Maxwell lying, responsible for his missing braid.

 

A wail of anguish left his mouth as he charged at the man, his fist raised and aiming for the other's face.

 

In the back of his mind, he wondered briefly when he'd gotten so tall.

 

But that was shoved aside as he closed in on the man, fist still raised to give that smiling fool a broken nose.

 

But it never came. He didn't even get to touch the man before everything went dark again.

 

There was something strange this time.

 

It was the fact that he could feel.

 

He could feel the air coming in and out of his lungs; feel his tongue press at his lips.

 

He was back.

 

Slowly sitting up, he brought one of his hands to his face and opened and closed a fist.

 

It was actually him.

 

A smile broke out of his face. A real one, not all those jester masks he'd put on to fool his friends.

 

It was actually him.

 

There was the sound of footsteps outside of his door, and all at once the memories of where he was made his smile fall like a sack of bricks.

 

He was still in the hospital.

 

Clenching his hands into fists, he waited until the sound of the feet passed by his door before looking a way out.

 

He couldn't stay here any longer.

 

Slipping out of bed after carefully removing the IV from his arm, he deemed that his pajamas would have to do for now as he slowly opened the window.

 

He thanked Shinigami that he was on the first floor as he shimmed through the small crack that he was allowed. As his feet touched the dew covered grass, he looked at his hospital room with a sad smile.

 

He'd been lucky that Heero or the others hadn't tried to stay with him all night.

 

Closing the window after he was through, he turned around and started sprinting, loving the feel of the wind even though he no longer had his braid or cross.

 

He was already a crossed the street and down the road when Wufei came out of the bathroom and shouted the alarm that Duo Maxwell was now missing.

 

What he should have paid attention to was the whispered apologies in the wind that ran through his short hair. Apologies of the pain that had been caused by a vague request to an old friend.