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Chance (part 2)



Heero slammed the phone down before any answer could be made and watched it roll across the carpet. It had to be a dream. There was no way that could have been… him. Heero ran his fingers through his hair and groaned. Was this someone's idea of a sick joke? No. No one sounded like Duo. He'd have known if it was a trick but.. how? Duo was dead, right? The dead can't talk on satellite phones. Right? Was he crazy? Heero stood and ran for the bathroom, promptly turning the faucet and being rewarded with nothing.

Damn utilities…

His heart was beating a million times a second and his breathing was harsh and quick. His eyes drifted from the sink to the mirror and he gazed blankly at the sad prussian eyes which starred back at him. They bore into his soul and ripped at old wounds, tearing their new flesh away.

It couldn't have been him. You were just imagining it. It's this place. Maybe you wanted it to be him so badly you imagined you'd heard him. Yeah, that's got to be it. You're just playing tricks on yourself. Calm down already. There's no need to panic. You're going to make yourself sick. he instructed himself.

Sure enough, his body began to slow down and relax, depression settling in over the excitement and fear he had felt. With reassurance in his step, Heero left the bathroom and returned to the front room, kicking at the phone then stooping to pick it up and carry it to the box. He wouldn't be using it again. That much was for sure. He placed it back in the box and carried it to the closet, stashing it back with all the rest of the junk. What had he been looking for again? Oh yea, candles and a flashlight. He left the idea of finding anything in the dark hall and went for the kitchen instead. The window over the sink and along the outer wall added enough light to see clearly here. The search wasn't a long one. The candles were above the sink and a rather large flashlight was sitting behind a year old box of cookies. Heero grimaced. He didn't want to know what was growing in that bag now. With night drawing near and the desired objects in hand, Heero left the kitchen and headed back to his bedroom. He stopped for a moment though, his eyes resting on Duo's journal. He'd forgotten he'd taken it out of the box and had apparently forgotten to put it back. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. It wouldn't hurt to read it, he guessed. It wasn't like Duo could do anything to stop him. Ouch, that remark hurt.

In his room, he tossed the black book to the bed as he began to undress. First his socks, then his pants and finally his shirt till he was left in nothing but a pair of boxers. The clocks on the walls all flashed midnight but the fading sun outside proved that to be wrong. He flipped his wrist over and glared at his watched. It was rather early to be getting to bed but he was tired none the less. Satisfied, he set the watch on the bedside table and took out a match from the drawer. With the candle secured in a rather gothic and early looking candleholder, Heero lit the wick and sat back on the matrices to watch the flickering flame. So many philosophies compared life to a candle's flame, inconstant and doomed to extinguish eventually. Heero laughed at himself. He was starting to sound like Duo.

If a tree falls in the woods…. Don't worry Duo. Your memory is safe with me.

He shook his head and found Duo's journal in his hands. Speaking of memories.

The black cover felt strangely familiar in his grasp and his fingers flipped through the thin pages quickly but carefully. A strange notion caused him to pause, the date on the page before him reflecting the same as today's, only the year was AC 195. Heero blinked his eyes and smiled, a sudden curiosity coming over him to know what Duo had done on this day those ten years ago. His smile faded though as he read the first two words.

"Dear.. Solo?"

His childhood friend. The one who died of the plague. The one whose friendship had inadvertently caused Duo's death. How ironic that Death should write in his journal to the his own destroyer. Heero closed his eyes and searched for the strength to read the entry. These were written before Duo knew of his fate, when fighting for resolution and avoiding death were life in itself. In the end, curiosity won over his own resolve and his eyes danced across the page searching for knowledge and past joy to relish in.


Dear Solo,_________________________________________
        We got our asses kicked today. It wasn't a pretty sight. We
won but Shenlon is busted up pretty bad and everyone's kinda upset.
Guess they're all thinking what I'm thinking. Is this war ever
going to end? I stayed up all night last night asking myself that. I
came to one conclusion. The war isn't going to end till someone
decides to stop fighting. Maybe we're wrong. Maybe it's the
colonies that need to surrender. I don't know anymore. It's kinda
like when you say your name over and over and over again to
yourself and after a while, you realize how dumb of a name it is.
I've gone over my purpose in this war for so long that I can't even
remember what made joining the fight such a good idea. Heero's
giving me that look again. The patented, "Omae o korosu" one. I
guess it's what I get for complaining. He was on that neat looking
satellite phone with some guy who was supposedly going to give
us a new mission and now that the guy hung up, it's all my fault.
Geeze he's cranky. Wonder what it would take to remove that
stick from his butt. No use wondering though, ne? The guy's
superhuman. It would take a miracle to get him to liven up. He
does look awfully peaceful when he's asleep though. Goodnight,
Solo. We've survived another night on the battlefield.

Heero glanced over it a second time. The satellite phone… but I never.. it couldn't be that I..I…

Heero sat back on his pillow and blinked at the ceiling. He didn't remember those events. The fighting, yes. The call… he'd never received messages over the unsafe frequencies. His laptop was safer. A startling thought entered his dreary mind. It couldn't be possible, could it? It wasn't possible that that phone call could be the same one he just made. The events, the date, even the circumstances of the call all fit with this journal entry. There was no possible way.. was there? Heero laughed at himself. Well, he though, I've lost it. Duo, you'd be happy to know that I've finally snapped. Well hell, if I'm going to go crazy over some stupid coincidence may as well go full out, ne?

He crossed his arms behind his head and bit at his bottom lip.

Alright then. Lets say for a moment that I just called AC 195 with some piece of junk satellite phone and got a hold of the gundam pilots. Alright. So, what does this mean and what can I get out of this?

He smiled to himself. He knew exactly what he would do with such a opportunity. It was what he had always dreamt for for the past five years.

If I could talk to myself and do things differently, I could spend those lost five years together with Duo instead of working for Relena. I'd have my last regret washed away. I'd have said "I love you" sooner.

Heero pushed those thoughts away, "No. You can't change the past. It's just a coincidence! You can not change the past!" he wanted to throw the book across the room. He wanted to grab that problematic phone that had started all this and toss it in a lake. ..he wanted to call again and make his dreams come true.


Heero shut the journal and practically through it on the bed side table. Why did it always happen like this? He thought he had been stronger than this. When Duo died he had promised himself and the others that he wouldn't react this way and here he was; angry, depressed, mad at the world and every heavenly body he could name. He hadn't meant to lie. He had wanted to go on and live life to it's fullest in Duo's absence but it wasn't that easy. It stopped being easy the first year. Heero sat up and tossed his legs over the side of his bed, the sheets hanging half off as well. If he was ever going to get any sleep tonight, he had to call again. It was the only way he could think of which would put his mind to rest. He had to call and realize it was just his imagination. Heero stepped out of his room and crossed to the closet. The door opened and now, armed with a flashlight, Heero sought out the lone box that damned phone was contained in. There were many, many boxes. With a short mumble of curses, Heero opened every box and looked under the lid. When he came to the last box (It's always the last box.) practically ripped the top off. This was taking longer than planned and the suspense was killing him. He searched around the sides and bottom of the box till at last his fingers curled around the sleek metal object. He pulled it out and starred at it.

"I'm going to call up and realize this was all just my imagination."

With that said, he checked the frequency once again and plugged it in. He breathed out whatever breath he had been holding and spoke clearly into the receiver, "Hello, I need to speak with you. Please respond."

There was a short pause then a cheery reply, <"Hello, who is this?">

Oh god.. it sounds so much like him.. "Heero. Heero Yuy."

There was a loud sigh and an audible frown, <"Your type doesn't waist much on small talk, ne? I'll get him for you.">

Heero didn't quite understand, "I-"

<"Hey, Heero! I answered your phone! I hope ya don't mind too much, buddy! You were out of the room!"> the voice shouted on the other end, <"I don't know who it is. The same guy from before I'm guessing! Can I talk on it for a while? Your not much on conversation and it would be very nice of you to let me talk to someone for a while!">

<"You and that damn phone. Give it to me, Duo.">

Heero dropped the phone and stepped back. No… impossible..

The speaker on the other line changed and a different, similarly familiar voice, shouted through the phone, <"Hello? Hello? Are you there? Damnit I'm tired of this crap! If you're going to call and hang up every time, don't bother calling!"> The sharp click resounded as the phone clicked off. Heero starred at it as if it were a object from some foreign world.

"That was… me? What the hell is going on. What the hell…."


AC 195

Heero threw the phone down and stared at it then his partner, "Is this your doing?"

Duo held up his arms defensively, "Hey, look man, I have nothing to do with this! Ya think I like being on the receiving end of those death glares of your's?_No_way_!" Duo presses past him and into their room, flopping lazily on his bed.

Heero kept his gaze steady and annoyed, "Who do I have to thank for these sleeping arrangements?" he asked as he crossed to his own bed.

Duo sat up smiled, "It was Wufei's idea. 1 and 2 in this room, 3 and 4 in the other and-"

"5 all alone in his own, private room. Bastard."

Duo looked hurt but smiled anyway, "Ah come on. I'm not that bad of company am I? Besides, it's always been this way. I've known you longer than anyone else and Quatre and Trowa met long before we met them. Wufei's always been the loner. Shouldn't mess with success, ne?"

Heero decided not to dignify that with a response. Duo got the gist of his retort anyway.

"Fine then. Ignore me. I don't care. See if I risk my neck for your worthless hide next time."

"I've never ask you to-"

"I know, I know! I'm just such a nice guy that I can't sit back and do nothing." He shook his head and lay back on his pillows, "Ne, Heero, what time is it?"


"You'd say that even if it weren't true. You just want me to go to sleep."

"It's the only way to get you to shut up."

"Alright, that's enough! I can take a hint!" He dove under his covers and pulled them up to his chin, "Good-night, Heero! See ya in the morning!"

"If you don't shut up I am going to stuff that braid down your throat and eagerly watch you as you die of suffocation."

Duo laughed and rolled over on his side, "Whatever, man. Sweet dreams."

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