Notes: I've been reading too much mythology...*falls over* But then it's for class *sweatdrop* So I have to, but it's good so that's not bad! *grin* Well, I hope you like this! Honestly, I don't think it's very good but...well...*shrug* I wrote it so I might as well see how bad it really is... (And I'm sorry for any frustration this fic might bring *wince*)
Pairings: 2x5
Warnings: AU, shounen-ai and doesn't really have a damn plot
Disclaimer: I do not own the GWing boys

Wufei's POV

He had first came to me when I was only a child of three. There had been a near-by-noble war and my family had been living in the small town that was caught between it. I had been outside playing with my cousins when an alarm came up about an attack from one of the clans from one side of the small war decided it was time to attack the town on the border of the lands. Everyone went in a panic and started hiding in their homes. I remembered my mother sweeping me up into her arms and carrying me inside. I didn't understand, then, what was going on but I knew something bad was up so I kept quiet and allowed my mother to hide me underneath the bed.

I lay there, curled on my side, watching my mother's foots move back and forth in the small house. I could hear my older brother running around the house, grabbing things. My mother was saying something, her voice thick with tears, begging. It was only until later in my life I remembered she was begging my older brother not to fight with the rest of the men of the town. He had refused to listen to her and went to join my father and uncle in defending the village.

It wasn't long before I heard screams, shouts, and the sounds of battle through the closed doors and windows. My mother was sitting on the bed, crying and praying to the gods that we survived this. I just lay there, unable to understand enough to truly panic. I just listened to my mother and stayed quiet under the bed.

But the sounds of battle scared me. I could hear screams of men dying and I still heard the screams in my nightmares later on in life. It was a while before they finally faded from my memory, leaving me at peace.

As I lay there, trying to block out the sounds, the door of our house was smashed open and men poured into the house. My mother screamed, begged for them to stop, to not hurt her. She didn't mention a single word about me. She was protecting me, keeping me tucked away safely. If the men knew I was hiding underneath the bed they would have probably killed me...or sold me as slave. I was a male, after all, and males were useful to nobles when it came to tending the fields they owned or perform any other manual labor.

The men didn't listen to my mom. Instead they shoved her aside and started tearing the house apart, taking anything of value. It was then that fear gripped me. What if they found me? What would they do to me? Would they kill me? I didn't understand anything. Why were these men hurting my family? What did we do to them? I didn't understand!

After they were satisfied at what they got, they grabbed my mother and dragged her away. Her screams chilled me to the bone but I didn't dare move from where I was. I was too afraid now. I didn't understand why these men were doing this but I wasn't stupid enough to get myself kid. I listened to mother and stayed quiet, not making a single move, not even breathing.

The men set fire to the house.

Too scared to do anything I just allowed the house to burn around me, breathing in the heavy, thick smoke that burned my throat and lungs. It wasn't long before I finally passed out, ready to be burned to death underneath the bed.

It was never clear to me how I survived the fire until later. It seemed that day was never clear until I was older. All I remembered, then, was waking up on the steps of a mountain monastery. It was shivering in the cold and managed to make a pathetic moan and bang weakly at the door. Forever seemed to be how long I waited before the door opened to reveal a bald monk wrapped in the brown robes of the order of monks in this part of China. He gaped down at me for a moment before leaning down and sweeping me up into strong arms and carrying me inside. I never left that monastery for years to come.

The monks there took care of me, treating my wounds and giving me herbal drinks to clear my throat and lungs from the smoke inhalation. I lay in bed for days, ill. It was a while before I was finally healthy enough to move around the monastery. And when I was finally able to do things without getting tired too quickly, the priests and monks there began to train me in the ways of a monk. It was quite obvious I was being made one of them now. They were people of the mountains and they intended to stay there. They weren't going to go *all* the way down to the foot of the mountain to drop me off at some near-by town. Besides, they seemed to like to have a new, fresh pupil at the monastery. And I liked what I was being taught.

In the morning I was taught the prayers and meditation, the afternoons were devoted to strengthening my body and mind with kung-fu workouts and teaching me to be literate so I could read the sacred books and prayers. At night I finished up my chores before making my nightly prayers and then going to bed. It was a simple, repetitious life but I enjoyed it. I slowly let go of all the bad memories of the attack and lived life easy. My faith was devoted to the gods and my life was devoted to keeping the monastery with the other monks and learning to make myself a better person. The memories only came back at night when I dreamed. Screams would echo in my head, my mother's words would fill my ears, and I would breathe the smoke again.

I kept these nightmares a secret. I didn't want to worry anyone and besides, they were only nightmares. I learned to clear my mind during the day so the dreams wouldn't haunt me during the day.

For thirteen years I lived in a quiet peace that all monks shared, loving the men around me and loving our way of life. My skill at martial arts improved wonderfully and I was soon able to read all the sacred texts with little trouble. Only sometimes did I have to go to the head monk and ask some questions. But other than that, I was growing to what they called a 'fine young man'. I was a model monk for the future.

Then, one day, one of the monks, a very close friend of mine, died. He had been sick for a very long time and we all prayed he would get better but he never did. The mountain air just didn't suit him, no matter how much he loved it. I had been there on the night he died. I was worried and went to him in the middle of the night. He had woken up to my footsteps and invited me to sit with him. I did, laying my head on the bedding as I sat on the floor beside the bed.

He started talking, telling me of all things he hoped to see after he died. Listening to him talk about his death with so much faith and devotion that he would be fine in the hands of the gods caused tears to roll down my face. He was my friend! I didn't want to lose him. He was one of the first people he taught me the ways of a monk at the monastery. He was the first to really listen to what I had to say when the rest of the older men said I was just a child.

I sat there, crying quietly as he continued to talk until he had no more breath. It took a while to realize that he had stopped talking. I raised my head and checked his breathing. It was then that I knew he finally died. I cried even harder, my tears soaking the bedding. The monks had woken up to my sobbing and found me there, kneeling beside my friend. And they knew what had happen. They carried me away to my own room, telling me to rest and to prepare for the funeral that was soon to come. I was going to be the one leading it for Jian. (That was my friend's name.)

And, in the end, I did lead the funeral. Before I knew it, Jian was in the ground and his stone marker was being hammered into the ground. It was a beautiful gravestone, really, made from the best hands of the monastery. The words etched to it cannot be translated into something that would make sense in this language, so I am left to just say it meant a lot to me that Jian got that carved into his marker. They were perfect, simple words telling of his life and personality and good luck in his afterlife.

I broke down after the last hit was slammed into the stone marker, making it all more real that my friend was gone. Again, the strong monks carried me off to my room. I woke up late in the night and made my way towards the grave in the near-by cemetery, falling to my knees when I came to Jian's current resting-place. I curled my arms around the stone marker and cried, gripping tightly, begging for some kind of comfort.

"Sssh, little one, there is no need to continue crying," a soft, soothing voice whispered near my ear.

I raised my head, startled. I stared right into beautiful, warm violet eyes. But as beautiful as they were, I knew that this man wasn't supposed to be here. How did he get here? He wasn't a monk! All of the monks had dark eyes and they were bald. This man had a long chestnut colored braid hanging down to his hips and he was draped in black robes, nothing like the simple brown robes of the monks. I blinked up at him, my tears making it a bit hard to see him but I didn't dare raise my hand to wipe away my tears.

"Ni...ni shi shei?" I whispered [1], confused and unable to make sense of what was going on.

"I am your friend," he whispered, kneeling down beside me.

"Ni bu shi wo de peng you," I told him [2], annoyed suddenly. I wasn't afraid of this man, strange as he was. I've never seen anyone like him before. He was so pale, white as a ghost compared to my own golden skin. He looked nothing like me, no almond shaped eyes, no dark irises. He was something else! Something very different.

"What do you mean? Of course I'm your friend," he murmured soothingly, reaching out to touch my face.

I jerked back. "Bu...bu... [3]" I couldn't think straight. It was like my whole world just took a sudden dive and I was lost in the air, thrown around with no direction. I clutched at the stone marker even tighter, praying Jian was looking over me and protected me from this bai gui [4].

"No what?" he asked, his fingers brushing against my damp cheek. "You're upset. I bet you don't want to stay here, do you?"

I stared at him, realizing with a start that he was speaking an entirely different language from mine. My eyes widened.

...I understood it.

"Ni...ni shi...muo shu? [5]" I asked softly, my eyes wide in shock.

He laughed softly and shook his head. "No, not magic." He pulled me away from the stone marker with amazing strength; I couldn't fight him, and pulled me right into his arms. I struggled, trying to get away, but he held tight. I could feel his hand rubbing up and down my back, soothing me. I thought it wouldn't help at all but it wasn't long before I was limp against him, my mind and body exhausted.

"Wo hen lei, [6]" I whispered against his neck, suddenly feeling safe and comforted. I wrapped my arms around him, trusting him to make sure nothing bad happened to me. Who was he? I didn't know him yet I trusted him wholly and completely. It was strange yet I found nothing wrong with it. In fact, it felt incredibly *right*.

I felt his hands on my bare scalp, traditionally shaved like any good monk. But suddenly he was running his fingers through silken hair. I started awake from my haze and jerked back, startled to find strands of ebony hair fall into my eyes at the movement. I gasped and stared at the strands as if they were something totally foreign. And they were! I've never had such long hair before; I've always shaved my head like the other monks. But, suddenly, here I was sitting there with long hair and *he* was running his fingers through it, cooing softly in my ear.

"Ni zuo shi, ma?? [7]" I demanded.

"Ni heng piao liang, xiao hai [8]," he breathed in my language.

"Wo bu xiao hai! [9]" I protested automatically. I hated being called a child! I was *not* a child. I was sixteen years old, hardly a child.

He chuckled, cupping my face in his warm hands and brushed his lips against mine. I froze, unable to believe that he had just kissed me. Or at least I thought it was a kiss. It had been so light...But a touch of the lips was a kiss--right? I couldn't be sure since I had never been kissed before. Romance and things like kissing wasn't exactly part of my daily curriculum at the monastery. I had been raised by the monks in chasity, with no true knowledge of the flesh. To have someone--especially another man--touch me in this way screamed wrong in my mind. Yet something else inside me said otherwise...

"...bu tuo.., [10]" I whispered almost inaudibly, shaking my head even as he tangled his fingers in my hair--strange to have hair now after being bald for so long--and brought me closer to him.

"That kind of stuff doesn't apply to me," he whispered softly even as his lips moved across my lips to my cheeks and temple. I made no move to stop him. After a few moments, he pulled away and stood up, pulling me up with him. That was when I saw I was no longer in the cemetery. Instead, I was standing in a warm, beautifully furnished room. Of course the room was totally foreign to me. It looked nothing like the traditional Chinese furniture used around the monastery. There was something distinctly different about everything, even the way the furniture was arranged. It was all very strange to me and I suddenly couldn't stand.

He caught me, like I knew he was going to. I knew him, some deep part of me. That I was sure of. Everything else was left to be said for...

"Wo bu ming bai, [11]" I confessed as I leaned comfortably against me. What was going on? Why were we here?

"You don't remember me?" he asked, looking down at me with an statement of total affection and warmth.

I shook my head. "Dui bu qi, wo wang ji. [12]"

"That's okay. I never expected you to remember. You were so young when we first met." He suddenly lifted me into his arms and carried me over to a bed that seemed to appear out of nowhere. I was placed down on it and he sat down beside me, pulling me close and holding me as if he couldn't bear to let me go.

"We first met after that raid on your village. I had came down to claim the men who had died when I found you passed out underneath a burnt bed. I was amazed you had actually survived, really. I thought everyone and everything in the town had been killed. And sure the fire should have killed you. But you weren't dead, sick but not dead." He paused, pressing his cheek to the top of my head. "You were so small, so helpless...and so beautiful. Even at that age, you were beautiful. I couldn't keep you though, couldn't take care of you, since I had duties that would demand too much of my attention.

"I took you to a local monastery where I was sure you'd be taken care of properly and taught to be a good man. And look, I was right. You're perfect." He smiled against my head and slid his arms around my waist, cradling me close against his own warm body. "So perfect. I've waited so long to finally see you again."

"Wei she, ma? [13]" I asked.

"Because I couldn't come down unless I had a perfectly good reason," he whispered softly.

I stared down at his long pale fingers and frowned. "Ni shi shei? [14]," I asked again.

"I am Death."

Ah, well, that explained things. Jian had just died so he probably came down to collect his soul. That sent a shaft of pain through my chest but it faded as I realized that my friend was probably in wonderful hands if this was the person who had guided him to the other world. I blinked and leaned against him, knowing he wasn't lying about being Death. He had already showed me what he could do. How could I think he *wasn't* Death, some sort of dark creature that came down on to Earth to take away the souls of the dead for judgement in the Heavens.

Of course, he had just torn my whole belief system apart with those simple words.

In my religion, there was a Heaven and there were gods, but there was no 'Death' and they sure didn't look like the one holding me so tenderly in his arms, as if I was his lover. Did everything I had been taught to believe wrong or flawed some how? There was no true 'Death' that came to collect souls like those of Greek religion, in my own. Yet, here *was* one, and he wasn't scary at all.

I felt him turn me in his arms and his mouth came down to kiss my throat, right on my voice box. I gasped and closed my eyes, drowning in the sweet, warm feelings he was filling me with.

"Now, I think this is better, don't you?" he asked, smiling slyly.

I opened my eyes and frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?" Then I gasped and my hand went to my mouth. I had just spoken *his* language! How strange; and all he did was kiss my throat.

"There, now I don't have to keep translating everything you say in my head before answering!" he said cheerfully.

"I thought you were a god of some sort. Aren't you supposed to be all knowing?" I asked, cocking my head to the side, my mind suddenly clearer without the distractions of the turmoil of emotions inside of me. It looked like he had done more than given me another language.

He laughed and buried his face in my hair, a strange and new feeling that was far from unpleasant. Slowly, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck and closed my eyes. I knew, without a single doubt in my body, that I belonged here, in his arms, ensconced in his warmth.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Better," I said.

"That's good. Why don't you get some sleep? You've had an emotionally hard day."

I looked up at him. "What...what about the others?"

"They won't miss you. Don't worry about a thing, just rest and let me be with you while I can," he murmured, his lips against my own again.

"I...I don't understand," I breathed, again, caught up in his butterfly kisses again. They were so new, something so sensual to me. Although I learned that those kisses were nothing compared to those he taught me when I was ready.

"I can only stay for a little while. Remember? I'll try and come to visit you, but it's going to be hard. It took this long before I was finally able to see you again," he said softly. His hands touched my shoulders, arms, and caught my hands in his own. He lifted them to his lips and kissed them. "I love you, do you know that?"

I was stunned. "Why?"

He laughed. "What do you mean: 'why'?"

"Why do you love me? How can you love me? We've only known each other for a little while," I told him, baffled.

"No, we don't. I've known you since you were three, and somewhere deep inside you, you've known me for just as long," he said, smiling warmly. He let go of one hand and touched my chest, where my heart was. "I've loved you, watched you for so long. It's so good to finally be able to touch you."

It was strange, it didn't make sense, but I was his. I reached out and touched his own chest, where *his* heart was. "I see." I smiled. "Well, then, I love you too."

"Honest?"

"Honest."

He pulled me close again. "I would take you with me when I leave but you belong here, with these monks who will continue to teach you what you're supposed to do in life."

I suddenly felt panic. "Will you come back to me? Will you visit me again?" Now that I finally knew of his presence in my life I couldn't bear to have him gone! Not when we've had so little time together.

"Of course. I will be here for the rest of your life and I'll be there when you finally pass on," he promised.

I relaxed. A deep understanding settled in me. If I was to love this man, I would have to be patient. And I was going to be patient, the monks had taught me that. They had taught me to be able to sit there and do something right and carefully. That *always* required patience.

Then I was laid on the bed and the blankets were pulled up against me. Lips and fingers brushed over my face and I heard a soft, "Rest well," before the world faded away into a peaceful darkness as I fell away into the Dreamrealm.

When I awoke, I was in my room again, on my own bed. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, wondering if it was all a dream until I felt something warm and heavy resting against my chest. I pulled out a long chain from inside my shirt and with it came a beautiful, gold pendant shaped in a form of a cross. I smiled and kissed the cross before falling back onto my bed, holding the precious thing close to my heart.

"Wo ai ni, qing fu. [15]"

~*~

AC 199...

Chang Wufei slept peacefully against his lover, his face buried in long chestnut locks of hair. Against his bronze chest rested a golden cross. Pale arms held him close, just like they did so many years ago, the imprint of them against him so familiar it might as well have been his own. He shifted slightly and sighed softly, never noticing as his lover woke up from the slight movement.

Duo Maxwell smiled down at his lover, feeling completely at peace and filled with a happiness that left him dizzy. So long...He had waited so long until he was finally granted permission to live with his lover down on Earth for the rest of his natural lifetime. Currently, someone else was taking care of his job.

~Awww...doesn't he look sweet, Death?~

Making a soft sound of discontent, Duo replied. ~What are you doing here? I thought you said you'd stop bothering me last time.~

~I couldn't help it! He looks like child! Aaawww...I'm melting here!~

~You'll be melting in Hell if you don't scat!~

~Meanie! Besides, Hell is cold.~

~Go away, Jian!~

~Bii--da!~

Wufei cracked an eye open. He smiled and chuckled softly at Duo's annoyed statement as his love shook his fist at empty air. "Again?"

"He just won't go!"

"Jian...be nice," Wufei murmured, knowing his friend and currently temporary Death could hear him easily.

Duo rolled his eyes at a response that only he could hear but it was clear that Jian had left.

"What did he say?" Wufei asked softly.

"He said he loves you and he now has to go because someone decided to bunjee jump with a cord fifty feet too long," the God of Death replied dryly.

~*Owari*~

Weird ending, yes. Why? 'Cause well...I couldn't think of anything else.
*sweatdrop* Comments, onegai! *V*

Warning: My Mandarin sucks. *sweatdrop* Sooo...I'll probably end up messing up somewhere...*sigh*

[1] Who...who are you?

[2] You're not my friend.

[3] Don't/No...don't/no...

[4] White ghost.

[5] You...you're magic?

[6] I'm very tired.

[7] What are you doing??

[8] You're very beautiful, child.

[9] I'm not a child!

[10] ...improper/inappropriate...

[11] I don't understand.

[12] I'm sorry, I forgot.

[13] Why?

[14] Who are you?

[15] I love you, lover.