Author: Sorceress Fantasia PM
Can you tell if someone is crazy from his dreams?Rated: Fiction M - English - Angst/Tragedy - Duo M. - Words: 2,147 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 1 - Published: 09-16-03 - Status: Complete - id: 1522172
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author: Sorceress Fantasia
Warnings: POV, angst, songfic, death, self-mutilation, mental problems
Archive: Finally Fantasia (my homepage)
Disclaimer: I'd just implemented my latest plans, but even the giant bed and the chest of toys failed to lure any of the GW gang over. So no, I don't own any of the GW gang or the anime. The song 'Hello' belongs to Evanescence.
Notes: This is partially inspired by Xenogears, and based on the song of the same name by Evanscence.
Thanx to Duo-chan for beta-ing efforts!
"That depends, I suppose. Sometimes, dreams are just what you've been thinking of before going to sleep. Sometimes, it's your memories."
I turned to her, still lying down on the couch, and glared hard. "I did not dream."
She simply nodded, seemingly not a bit bothered by my hostility. "Alright, you didn't dream. What did the other you dream of then?"
My glare intensified. "He is not me. He is a coward, a coward who chose to run away, to hide from the light! Nothing more. The void in him created me, and I took his place. To take the hate, the pain and the anger in his place. I am stronger than he ever will be!"
"Aa." She nodded again. "Then… what did he dream of?"
Knowing that she had finally gotten it right, I laid back down on the couch. After all, the stark ceiling was much more appealing. "Smoke and fire. And there was debris of fallen buildings everywhere. He was just wandering around with tears in his eyes. But strangely, he never choked on the thick smoke. Sometimes, it rains. Sometimes, it doesn't. The clouds just kinda swirl around in the skies, floating along. They follow him, no matter where he goes."
"Can you recognize the place?"
"No. All places look alike when they've been destroyed. It could be somewhere I fought in with my gundam." I replied, noticing the nearly invisible cracked lines in the ceiling. This place needed a paint job soon.
"Did he dream of anything else?"
I turned to the other side. The curtains were drawn, and I could see only its whiteness. So pure, so clean. For a moment, I wanted to touch it. But I knew the moment I did, it would become dirty. Giving a rueful smile, I turned back to the ceiling. It was just as white, but at least I couldn't touch it that easily.
"There was a young woman. A fire. And a boy… alone." I said, voice trailing off. "And there was another boy. An explosion. And blood. Lots of it."
She made a vague sound to let me know he was listening, and I heard some scribbling. It was hard not to notice, when the room was deathly still, deadly quiet. I hate it when it's quiet. Voices always take advantage of the silence, and scramble into your head, fighting violently to make itself heard.
"Do you recognize any of those people you just mentioned?"
I resisted the urge to snort. Some people were just born stupid. They won't understand what I say. They weren't meant to. "Why should I? They're not my dreams. Not my memories."
"Aa." She adjusted the glasses resting on her nose before scribbling something onto her clipboard again. "Does he… talk to you?"
"He? You mean the Coward?" I asked, closing my eyes and sighing. "Sometimes. When he gets lonely, or scared. He usually blabbers about how happy he is. It's all just nonsensical crap."
She nodded. "Are there any other dreams?"
I thought for a moment. "The coward cried. Just crumpled onto the ground, buried his face in his hands… and sobbed. In front of the boy. In front of the explosion. He doesn't dream of anything else. Just people dying, things exploding, and places collapsing. He always dreams in red. Everything is red. Just like blood. And I can smell the metallic stench of blood."
"What about you? Do you dream of anything?"
"…No. There's nothing to dream about. Just a voice, and blue light."
"What does the voice say?"
"Can't hear him."
She smiled suddenly, as though she had made a big progress. I turned back to the ceiling.
"How do you know it's a him?"
I blinked, feeling the air around me still. "I just do."
"Is that so? An instinct, telling you it's a him."
I ignored her. I was not going to tell her what I heard. Neither was I going back to the void. Coward had given up his place in this world, barricading himself up with his happy memories. Only remembering those instances of happiness and love. He created me. Bit by bit, little by little, when things went wrong, didn't go the way he wanted and hoped for. And I materialized when the worst blow came to him, and he couldn't take it anymore.
Now, he's just a silly fool, lying to himself. Always keeping himself happy with his memories.
And I'm left to deal with everyone else who thinks I've gone crazy.
It's irritating, the way they hover and fuss over me. They think I'm going to commit suicide?
The clock chimed, and I got up from the couch. My appointment was over. I headed for the door without a scarce 'goodbye' to her. I've learnt that it's better to not say such things when people think you're suicidal.
I stared into the mirror, scowling when I saw Coward gazing back, still smiling that crazy smile. He just won't give up, would he? Wouldn't give up his memories.
Flopping myself into my bed, I'm captivated by the white ceiling. I crawl under the black sheets, feeling warm in an instant. The clock sitting on my nightstand ticks softly. It's demanding something, with time ticking away like that. Actually, I like that. It reminds me that nothing is constant. Not even happiness.
Time changes everything.
So there's no use to cling onto anything, because it'll just disappear one day. No matter you like it or not.
Coward didn't understand that.
I sighed. Coward's dreaming again.
Same old, same old.
The place looked the same every time Coward dreamt. There was smoke, there was fire, and collapsed buildings littered the ground. The clouds rumbled, just like a lion growling deep in his throat, and it rained. I stood there, and let the water run over me, seeping into my clothes. This red dream… was getting more realistic with every passing day. And the rain falling from the sky was dyed red as well, and I had the strange notion that the heavens were raining blood. Shaking my head, I snorted and left. I maneuvered carefully around the wrecked place, occasionally jumping over a piece of concrete or iron that jutted out.
I knew where the dream happened.
Peeking around the corner of a dusty alley, I saw him. The boy Coward always dreamt of first.
The boy was cold and alone in the alley, leaning against a wall that I was surprised it hadn't disintegrated. His chest heaved heavily, taking in only sharp breaths and white puffs. Then something sounded in the distance, like a calling, and his chest stopped moving, his head lolled to one side. I moved away.
Leaving the alley, I gazed at the torn building lying in fragments, drowning in a massive dance of flames licking the sky. Even the rain could not extinguish the flames, could not console the shattered pieces of the souls of the people who perished, and their moans of pain and anguish continued.
I looked down at the young woman at my feet, an untainted smile on her face. She lay on the dirt, her blonde hair splayed out, matted with blood. Her own blood pooled around her body, the redness accentuated by the rainwater that kept falling.
The coldness did not leave me, and I walked away.
An explosion burst out somewhere, and the sky over the mushroom cloud of smoke flashed in a bright scarlet. It was even redder than the rest of the dream. I strolled over nonchalantly, taking my own sweet time. I had after all, gotten used to the dream. And nothing else could surprise me.
Not even the body of him, lying face down before me could.
And he dashed out from the darkness, falling to his knees before the dead boy. Quickly, he turned him over in his arms and held on tightly. Mumbled words fell from his lips, as did his tears.
"Please don't go… don't leave me alone…"
I frowned. He was never going to understand, was he? Feeling my anger rising, I grabbed his shoulders.
"Enough of this! He is dead." I said simply, and watched indifferently as he pursed his lips and glared at me with a diamond hard gaze.
"You liar! He is not dead! He cannot be dead! He promised! He promised he'd stay with me forever! He doesn't break his promises…" Coward yelled, his voice barely audible at the end. Slowly, he gathered the dead boy closer, as though the boy was going to slip through his fingers.
My gaze cooled. "I don't lie."
Coward started laughing hysterically, his shoulders racking from the force of his laughter. "This is just a dream. I'll wake up. And everything will still be the same. He's not dead. He's lying beside me in bed. He's holding me in his arms. He loves me. He won't leave me. He can't."
"You're hiding again." I said. "You always hide whenever someone you love died. Useless… Unable to survive without those you love. Instead, you choose to cower in the shadows, letting me appear and take your place. How long have you been hiding? Weeks? Months?" I shook my head. "There is no more 'you'. 'You' don't really exist anymore. Only 'I' do."
He ignored me, still sobbing into the dead boy's shoulders. The cessation of sound wrapped around us, and I stood up. The rain was still falling, washing over all of us. The blood continued to drip.
"Why didn't you save him? Why couldn't I save him?"
The question was soft, so soft I nearly missed it. But I had heard it, and I couldn't stop the frown. We both knew the answer. We had been too late, too slow. There was no chance of saving him. Not even if we sacrificed ourselves. I ambled over to him, and knelt down in front of him. "Because we are Duo Maxwell, the god of death."
He only cried harder.
My eyes snapped open, and the white ceilings greeted me again. Feeling the familiar twinge on my hands, I sighed, and threw my covers off. I looked at my wrists.
They were red. I must have torn my cuts again when I was sleeping. It happened every night.
Shaking my head, I trudged into the bathroom. My cuts were what forced me to seek help. Quatre had seen them in the hospital, and insisted on sending me to a psychiatrist. But it was useless; I wasn't the broken one. Coward was, but he never surfaced again after that boy's death. And strangely, I haven't seen him in weeks. Even the red dreams have been fading slowly.
Has he found what he needed?
Or has he given up completely?
I stilled, the thought running through my mind in quick circles. Slowly, I looked up at the mirror. A pair of lifeless violet eyes stared back at me. My eyes. They were my eyes.
There was no need to clean up my wrist anymore. There wasn't any purpose to it.
I went back to my bed, and crawled under the covers.
I dreamt of flying; I dreamt of falling.
I dreamt of floating; I dreamt of sinking.
I dreamt in the starkest shades of white; I dreamt in the darkest shades of black.
That night, I dreamt. No more red. My dreams were in the most brilliant shades of blue.
I dreamt of him. Calling to me.
Notes: If you still can't guess who's the two boys and the young woman… the first boy is Solo. The young woman is Sister Helen. And the second boy is Heero. Yes, this is a deathfic, in case you still haven't figured it out yet.