Warnings: Angst, death, foul language
Rating: R
Summary: A memory from a pilot’s past comes back to haunt him.
“You lousy piece of shit! I hope you die! I hope you get so much crap you can barely walk for a week!”
“Shut the fuck up, you whore! And don’t come showing your face here any longer!”
The sound of a door slamming filled the silence but it was soon opened up again and something heavy was flung out. It made a loud ‘thud’ upon the pavement – barely inches before the small dirty pair of feet. Clothes – mostly flimsy underwear spewed out from it. The feet walked towards it and knees made contact with the cold stones on the floor. Grimy, greasy hands ransacked the box searching for something edible…or if he was lucky…money.
“You sonofabitch! You think sleeping with some whore’s gonna get you somewhere?!”
“Fuck off! And don’t come back neither!”
The boy barely dodged the large glass vase that soon shattered into a million pieces beside him. He stepped back to avoid any other things being thrown at him and then winced as a piece of glass embedded itself into the sole of his foot. He winced, but did not cry out in pain. He straightened to his feet and began to hobble away from the scene. But not too far - he had to hope that the arguing couple would be nice enough to throw some more things out – valuable of course.
More curses were flung. The woman shrieked a little. Probably she was being slapped or beaten. The boy stooped to his haunches and placed his hands over his ears. He began to recite a hymn he had heard from his infrequent visits to the Maxwell Church as he rocked back and forth. He closed his eyes and imagined he was in the chorus and he was singing to the heavens –
“ASSHOLE!”
…except that the heavens were no longer here. There was no God here. This was hell and he was living proof of it.
The sounds of uneven footsteps filled his ears as he removed his hands to peer warily down the corridor. Sure enough, the woman came stumbling out, still cursing and ranting over her stupid-ass boyfriend. There was a cigarette butt dangling from the corner of her red smudged lips. She had on too much makeup and although the boy was sure she was in her early twenties – if not in her teens – the application of color only made her look like a gnarly old hooker from the South.
She was dressed in a see through negligee and the boy – who was immune to the naked body – noticed that her nipples were rosy and quite perky beneath the cream-colored cloth. She was struggling to put on a pair of red high heels, while shrugging into a black worn out jacket at the same time. Her hair was a tumbled mass of chestnut and to the boy – it was beautiful. No, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
“What da hell are you looking at?” she snapped in irritation as she noticed him standing within the shadows. “Damn kids! Get the hell out of here and go beg someplace else!”
He remained standing and staring. Her hair color was just like his. Her eye color was just like his. He had seen his reflection many times from the puddles that had the tendency to form after the rains came, so he knew.
Momma…
“Didn’t you hear me, kid?! Get the hell outta here!”
She was crying now, but she was still trying to pick up her clothes from the street. Her fingers brushed against a few pieces of glass and the thick redness of her blood began to coat the pavement.
She ignored it.
“Damn bastard! He thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips!” She stood to her full height and bellowed towards the apartment upstairs. “Well, you ain’t nothing!! You hear me! You ain’t nothing! I fucking paid all your bills, you jerk! And this is what I get?!”
The door opened up again and the boy heard the loud angry voice of the man. “You had better get out of here before I blow your fucking brains out, you cunt! I told you to get the hell out!”
“Make me!”
Run…run momma…
“You’re pushing it, angel!”
“I ain’t your fucking angel! You stupid bastard! You come out here and make me leave!!”
Stop talking momma. Go…run…come with me!
The door slammed shut again. The woman was breathing heavily now. She suddenly spun around to glare at the boy again.
“What the fuck is it?! You want money?! Huh?!”
The boy could not move. He could already see it and he was going to be powerless to stop it.
The woman shook her head impatiently and began to pick up her clothes again. The blood from her cut was beginning to stain the flimsy outfits, but she didn’t seem to care or want to.
“Fucking L2!” she began again. “Damn fucking colony! I hate this place! I’m going back to Earth! I hate this place! This shitty, godforsaken hellhole!”
She laughed bitterly and pinned shimmering violet depths on the solemn boy. “Listen to me, kid,” she muttered thickly. “You get out of here. This colony. It kills people, you hear me. Find a way to get the hell out of here. Go to Earth. Go to the fucking Sun if need be!”
She spun around to glare at the apartment building again.
“You asshole! You hear me?! I said I’m leaving this godforsaken place!!”
Run! Run, momma!
The door opened up again. The boy’s feet began to move – but it was stuck in mud. It felt as if it were stuck in the thickest of mud. Everything seemed to move so slowly – ever so slowly.
He could see the muzzle of the shotgun. He could see the leery, greedy, hungry, wicked look in the man’s crazed eyes. He could see the woman’s eyes widen in terror. She stepped backwards. The heel of a her shoe broke. She fell to the ground and tried to scramble away.
But it was too late. It was going to be too late again.
“Run, Duo!” she screamed. “Run away from here, Duo!”
And finally, he found his voice again.
"MOMMA!"”
Her blood baptized his small form. It was the last gift she would ever give him.
“Duo? Are you okay?” came the soft question that broke him out of his reverie.
The can of beer had unconsciously been crushed within his hand. He eyed the small droplets of water on the wooden surface and gave a small but weary smile.
“Yeah,” he muttered softly as he nodded towards the bartender for another can. “I’m okay. I’ll be just fine…”
He would have to be - for the sake of the mission and for his friends.
-The End-
Gundam Wing Fiction
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