sunhawk16: (Lev hawk)
[personal profile] sunhawk16
Ok, this is the second of the pretty darn angsty fics. I'm just going to get it out of the way, so all that will be left (other that the 'three kleenix' Christmas day fic) will be weird and humor.
There is talk of past suicide here... not of any of the boys.

Hilde killed herself in the past and this is Duo trying to deal with it. Heero POV. I'll be blunt here... this was written years and years ago in response to a bit of internet drama. My first encounter with using implications on-line and then the 'vanishing' trick to gain attention. I was pissed. This fic was the result.

And here be the ficlet which is called (for reasons that will become obvious...)

I knew where to find him that day even though he put some effort into covering up. It wasn’t much of an effort; the little note about going for bagels was just lame… we don’t even eat bagels. But I’d been watching for something all day, because… the date was one I kept in memory even closer than the anniversary of the end of the Eve war.

I didn’t rush to the cemetery, but I did follow him there. It had taken seven years for him to finally make the trip, and while I intended to be there for him, I also intended to give him the space to finally… hopefully… make his peace.

I found him, right where I’d been sure he’d be and I just stood on the sidewalk and watched him stand for a bit, before deciding that I wasn’t going to interrupt anything more than staring.

I walked slowly across the grass, making sure he heard me coming, and couldn’t help but think the bright, clear spring day was inappropriate to the moment.

‘It should be raining,’ he said when I moved in beside him, accepting my presence into his moment without rancor. There was a single white carnation lying on the headstone, but the stem was broken. It seemed appropriate somehow, in a sad sort of way. I tilted my head back and looked up at the sky.

‘I know,’ was all I could find to say.

He was quiet for a bit, just staring at that headstone, reaching out eventually and trying to align the stem of the flower, looking somehow embarrassed at the physical sign of his fidgeting. He squatted down rather abruptly and began tracing the letters of Hilde’s name with a touch that barely connected.

‘I thought I’d be able to cry,’ he said softly, not looking at me. ‘But I can’t. I still can’t.’

I reached out and let my fingers stroke over his hair once, encouraging without breaking into his thoughts, because I wasn’t entirely sure who he was talking to.

‘I’ve been so angry at her for so long… I can’t seem to feel anything else.’

He left off his tracing, and his hand curled into a fist and for a moment I was afraid his temper was going to get the better of him, but the punch was just a tap centered on the graven doves.

‘I could hate her for doing this to me,’ he said, voice starting to twist on the confession and he stopped for a bit, his fist beginning a rhythmic little thumping against the stone. I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets to keep from pulling him to his feet and away from the headstone.

‘Such a fucking waste!’ he suddenly snarled and the next thump of his fist was more… firm. He stopped, pulling his hand back and leaned forward against his knees, looking very much like he was starting to hunch in on himself.

We were quiet for a very long time and somewhere in the trees, a robin began to sing. I looked out across the rolling hills of the cemetery and gave him the moment.

When he spoke again, he’d calmed the snarl from his voice and just sounded… tired. ‘She never gave it a chance.’ Space or not, the tone of his voice was something I couldn’t ignore and I knelt down beside him, wrapping a sheltering arm around his shoulders.

‘Duo…’ I began; unsure of my welcome, but he just sighed and leaned his head against my shoulder.

‘It seems so long ago now,’ he whispered, voice a sigh like water breaking over a damn. ‘I look back and I… I just can’t even remember ever feeling the way we did. The war was a… a hard thing to get over, you know? She and I tried to help each other, but everything seemed so hopeless somehow. But from here… looking back… it doesn’t even look the same. I can’t explain it…’

‘Perspective?’ I tried, gently kissing the top of his head where he rested against me.

‘Something like that,’ he granted, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely happy with the phrasing and he grew quiet. It made me doubt that I should have spoken. I was quiet with him and just let him sort it out.

His fingers lifted again, drawn back to the stone and picked up the trace on the ‘S’.

‘I know I was depressed back then, and I know she was too… I remember… I remember dark times. I know that. I remember not knowing what to do with myself and I remember just wanting it all to go away, but… how do you just stop trying?’

I squeezed him tight. ‘I don’t know, love. I really just don’t know.’

His hand splayed out across the surface of the headstone, as though trying to hide the name and deny its existence. Deny it all.

He pushed then, and we came to our feet, I wasn’t sure if I should let him go, but he turned to wrap his arms around my waist and bury his face against my neck, so I wrapped him up close.

‘Life…’ he whispered. ‘She missed so damn much of it. Heero, she wasn’t even twenty-one. We were just kids and she just threw it all away. Just a damn baby and she didn’t have a clue what the future might have held. She gave it all away without even knowing what it was.’

I wanted to make excuses for her, wanted to lie somehow and make it an easier thing to bear, but anything I could have said would have just been hollow and Duo deserved better. So I just held him.

‘I thought…’ he began, and that twist was back in his voice. ‘I thought I was ready to forgive her… but I’m not. She never really tried. There was always a why not, but never a why.’

He sighed heavily then, for her or for himself, I couldn’t really tell. Or maybe just for still-born possibilities.

Behind him, the wind blew the carnation off the headstone and tumbled it across the grass. He turned us away from that place and took us home without looking back.

I had thought what he needed to find within himself was forgiveness, but maybe he would be better served by forgetfulness.

They say that as long as there is life there is hope. Hilde chose to give up on hope, to give up on the future, give up on herself. I didn’t know how to tell Duo to forgive that when… it wasn’t something I could do myself.

Date: 2016-12-19 11:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Poor Duo. Suicidals don't always understand their impact on others and the government never takes PTSD very seriously. Money out of their pockets, I guess.

Date: 2016-12-20 02:48 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
routhier says:

well, now that you said that... we had some ptsd adventures at my house this year. now i kinda wanna see duo finding himself overwhelmed with government paperwork and trying not to look it in right in the eye!

then again, there was also a small antidepressant adventure, too... so now i wanna see duo staring at a bottle of pills and trying to figure out where hilde was when she did what she did.

thoooough, once i read the trigger for the story, i better understood the tone and direction! internet melodrama is always a source of grand annoyance! drama queens! drama queeeennnnssss!!!

Date: 2016-12-20 01:44 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
We all are drama queens at some point, but at least ours involves producing plot bunnies. (or hamsters)

Date: 2016-12-21 02:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
The impact is always there somewhere, no matter what the person thinks. I don't think Duo will ever quite get over it... definitely can't forgive and forget.

Date: 2016-12-21 02:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
There is always the sense of personal guilt and questions on what they could have done differently. If she'd have died in war, it would be different. Painful, but at least she went out because of a cause she believed in.

Date: 2016-12-20 05:06 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
You know, it makes me think about the song like 'scary ghost stories and tales of the glories...' and I wonder when ghost stories became a traditional part of Christmas...I suppose Scrooge is one...and Francis in It's a wonderful lessons through death seems to be a tradition...nice work! ^-^

Date: 2016-12-21 02:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Scrooge started it all! Or Dickens did. :D

Date: 2016-12-20 05:07 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
oh fuddle...I keep looking at lj in the wrong brower...that was me (t-shirt) *gomen*

Date: 2016-12-21 02:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Hehehehe... we've all done it!

Date: 2016-12-20 07:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
It is difficult to forgive someone for killing themselves even if they have what might seem like good reasons - more so if you don't think their reasons were good. But sometimes enduring life is more scary and depressing than death. I can see both sides of the argument.

Date: 2016-12-21 02:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
It was the using the 'threat' of it as an attention getting device that really iced my cookies at the time; seems to be that it makes it more likely that the next time somebody see something like that, they might not take it seriously when they should.

Date: 2016-12-21 09:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I feel sorry for Hilde and for Duo. I want to tell Duo not to judge because he doesn't really know what kind of mental illness Hilde might have had, but at the same time, I understand why he's angry. They fought so hard to save everyone, and Hilde couldn't save herself. Worse yet, I'm sure there's a part of Duo that will always fear that he didn't do enough to help her.

People are so complicated!

Date: 2016-12-24 07:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I can see both sides, and was probably a bit harsh with the fic because of the trivializing of the incident that sparked it. Not sure if I need to get pissed off more often or not... sure seems to bring on the writing jags, but doesn't always result in stuff that should be shared...
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