July 28, 2000
Rating: Adult
Pairings: 3+4 and now a 5+2
Warnings: Yaoi. Possible LEMON. Angst. This is always the last part.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and are only being used for non-profit entertainment purposes. All original characters belong to themselves.
Acknowledgements: Special thanks to Bonne, Von, RavynFyre, Kitsune, and Alexia who are doing a wonderful job proofing each part. You girls are too good to me--keep it up! ^_~
Notes: Heero escaped from ... wherever he was with the help of Jack. Quatre received a mission sending him and Trowa off to Hawaii--leaving Wufei and Duo alone to await Heero's return. And that, my friends, is where our story begins...
He was pivoting back and forth on the swivel chair, singing 'I'm bored' over and over and over and over and over...
"Enough already!" Wufei shouted, looking ready to kill the braided-boy. "Why don't you just *do* something instead of complaining!"
"There's nothing to do," Duo replied, still swinging back and forth on the chair.
"Go swimming," the dark-haired boy suggested.
"Nah. It's no fun by myself and besides, I don't feel like detangling my hair tonight."
"Watch a movie."
"Seen 'em all."
Wufei practically face-vaulted. "What about those--those---cartoons you like to watch!"
Duo made a face. "They're called anime, not cartoons, and nah... I've seen all the new episodes out."
Wufei rolled his eyes. "Why don't you read something?" he suggested.
Duo's head fell back over the chair. "I've read all the manga I brought with me."
Wufei glared. "How about try and read a book?"
Duo made a face. "They smell." He fell forward with a sigh. "I guess I could always go play some solitaire on the laptop," he mumbled climbing to his feet.
Wufei relaxed. "Yes, why don't you---" Laptop? As in Heero's laptop? A question he'd been meaning to ask earlier resurfaced. "Duo? Just why *were* you on Heero's computer before?"
"Huh?" the braided-boy asked, turning around at the door. "Oh, that? Well, I was just checking up on some things, that's all."
Wufei frowned but the other boy had already cleared the door. "What things?" he called after the departed, setting his own book down and following out of the study.
"You know, things," the answer called back to him.
"No. I. Do. *Not*. Know," Wufei replied, following up the steps to the bedroom where the other boy's voice had receded. The keys tapped.
"It's weird," Duo said softly. "As annoying as they are... it's weird to hear them silent." His fingers brushed the keys with an almost lover's touch. Looking at them and not the boy he was talking to, he asked, "Is it wrong?"
Wufei waited, unsure what to say or answer or do of think.
Duo looked up and there were tears in his eyes. "Is it wrong to miss somebody this much? To want to always be with them this much? To--" he couldn't get the rest of the words out, and instead, said only "Sorry."
Wufei hissed. If he had taken his own sword and plunged its blade through his chest, he could not hurt more. He was at Duo's side without consciously crossing the floor, pulling the braided-boy into his arms and rocking him close.
"I pray to gods it is not," he whispered hoarsely, cradling the other boy. "For if it is, we are both doomed, Duo Maxwell."
The tears he had fought, won, and Duo sobbed against Wufei's chest, words spilling from his lips in broken chunks. "Why? Why? Oh, god, Wufei, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! It's not right! I love you, I do. Really, but--and it hurts so much. God, it hurts so much. I'm such a weak, pathetic fool! I can't believe I let him do this to me! God, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry! I want to love you. I *do* love you! But--"
Wufei held back his own tears, trying to soothe the other boy. He pressed salty, sticky bangs away from that beautiful face with the amethyst eyes, and he placed tiny, soothing kisses along the brow and cheeks, encouraging calm. His hand traced small circles over his back, and his lips whispered traitorous words of soothing.
"It's alright, Duo, it's alright. Everything will be okay. I know, I understand. I'm not him; I can never be him. But I love you more than I have loved any other human being. I know, I understand. Please don't hurt. Please don't pain. Please be happy. I know, I understand. I love you."
He didn't know how many of the words were spoken aloud. He didn't care. He didn't care beyond the fact that the boy in his arms was the one he would do anything for to make happy... and the boy in his arms was miserable. Somehow, he'd managed to move them to the bed and now they laid huddled together, holding on tight as the one cried out years of pent up grief and the other tried desperately to soothe. Gradually, the sobs slowed to small cries and the cries to sniffles until the boy lay exhausted--and asleep--in his arms.
'You are a fool, Chang Wufei,' he scolded himself harshly. 'You will *not* cry for your friend or yourself. There is no room allowed for self-pity! And boys do *not* cry!'
'That is the difference between a boy... and a man...' a familiar voice echoed in his ears.
'Meiran?' he thought with a choking swallow. His eyes stung terribly but he refused to give them release.
'A man is not afraid to cry,' the voice whispered. 'And you, my husband, are a man.'
He remained unaware of the salty trails that etched their paths down his cheeks as he held the sleeping boy closer.
The clouds rolled in around four. Big, puffy, fat grey clouds. By five, lightening began to dance across the sky. By six, the heavens opened and it began to pour. Now it was seven. On a normal day, it would still be sunny and light outside the large bay window. Today, is was dark as midnight save for the lightening flashes that cast erie shadows across the room. They had slept the day away.
It must have been one of the loud cracks of thunder, or maybe a prickling behind his neck, but Chang Wufei came awake with a start. Beside him, Duo slept soundly, curled towards Wufei's warmth. He mumbled something in protest, but didn't awaken when the Chinese boy sat up in bed, studying the darkened room around him.
'That baka would sleep through an Oz attack,' he thought ruefully, brushing a freed lock of black satin hair behind one ear.
Movement.
His eyes jumped to the window.
A shadow. No. A silouhette. Of a man. He stood up from the crouch it had landed in when it jumped the railing.
Two possibilities crossed his mind. It was either Heero... or it was a foolish enemy. A clawing inside of him hoped it was the later of the two options. It was a hope in vain he saw as another arch of lightening danced through the sky, lighting the room and the face of the newcomer.
A hand stilled on the doorknob to the room when he saw Wufei. He was sure the shock must have been plain to see on his face---before he quickly schooled it. 'What is Wufei doing in *my* bed?' he wondered, turning the knob and quickly exiting the rain and wind.
He was soaked to the bone--even his socks and shoes squished when he walked. He had left the building where he was being held with little incident. No casualties, he nodded in satisfaction. He'd stolen a small boat to cross the Gulf in before coming to the island where he'd hidden his gundam. There he was able to change into a comfortable pair of clothing: his shorts and tank. The outfit, while leaving him free to move, also left him bare to the elements, however. And it was pouring sheets when he'd arrived at the locale of the "safe house" they were staying in--one of Quatre's family's many "little" estates. He had hid his Gundam a mile away, not wanting to open the hanger where the other four Gundam rested safe from this weather. He had walked the rest of the way home.
He was soaked and freezing. But he was home.
And just what the hell was Chang doing in---
Something else moved in the bed. Stopping closer, blue eyes lit over a long chestnut braid, spilling over one pillow. *His* pillow. He looked from the sleeping boy to the awake one.
"Welcome back," Wufei said softly, his eyes never leaving Heero's. "The mission...?"
"Complete."
Wufei waited, but he should have known better. Nodding shortly he continued. "You were late. We expected you this morning."
"I was detained."
Wufei nodded again, and then weighed his next words. "I... removed the program."
Cobalt eyes flared. But that was the only reaction. "Understood."
"They know, Heero," he said softly. "*He* knows."
They were quiet for another minute, each thinking deeply. "Was there... any trouble?" Heero asked finally.
Wufei nodded his head once, eyes still not looking away. Heero finally looked away, striding to the bureau against one wall and pulling out fresh, clean, *dry* clothes. "What happened, Wufei?" he asked without emotion.
"Quatre and Trowa... understand," the Chinese boy said calmly.
Heero turned, stepping out of the wet, soggy shorts and briefs. His look said "And?"
"Duo... was not so understanding." Wufei added, a wry smile *almost* making it to his lips.
Dry garments replaced wet and Heero set the soiled clothes into the hamper before turning back to Wufei. "And now." Blue eyes took in the sleeping boy's position on the bed, *his* bed. They also noticed the close proximity the *other* occupant of the bed was at. "What happened, Wufei?" he asked, his throat tightening.
There was a sinking feeling in his gut. He didn't like it. He didn't understand it and he didn't like it. He was tired. He was cold. He had *thought* he would be falling into bed--a luxury to having an heir for a co-pilot. But... there were two bodies in his bed. Two bodies that looked very cozy upon inspection. Just *what* *had* *happened* in four days?!?! He didn't think he was going to like the answer.
"It can wait for morning," the Chinese boy said, studying the look on the other boy's face. He didn't understand it, and he didn't like it. Wufei knew things would have to be handled with care... and somehow he felt at a completely loss. "Let me wake him up and we'll leave you to your own bed to sleep."
"No."
Wufei--who had turned to the sleeping boy--now looked back at Heero. "Okay," he said slowly. "I shall leave then." He pushed the covers aside, but Heero's voice stopped him once again.
"No," he said, his chest caving in. He felt the pain. A dull, aching pain. He didn't understand it. He didn't like it. "I will leave." And he turned to do so.
"Wait, Heero!" A hand caught his wrist and he turned to see a--a--what? Almost panicky Wufei? But Wufei never panicked. So what *was* it?! He didn't understand. He didn't like it. "This is your room," the Chinese boy was saying. "I am the interloper. It is my responsibility to leave. St-stay here with Duo."
His words held the edge of a double meaning that wasn't lost on the Japanese boy. The hole in his chest swelled until he thought it would cave in. "No," he managed to say, dragging in a large breath to try and quell burning lungs. "He has made the choice for us."
He turned away again; this time, Wufei did not try to restrain him with actions--he knew they would do no good. "Damn you, Yuy. Don't do this," he hissed. "He chose." Wufei swallowed back the tears of pain and jealousy. "He chose you."
Heero's back stiffened; his face tilted so Wufei could see the hard look there. "His actions say differently, Chang."
"Screw his actions!" the Chinese boy hissed. "Damn you, Heero Yuy! I may have had his body, but you have always had his heart." He swallowed, his eyes and throat and chest on fire. "And there is no honor in keeping a man apart from his heart."
He swallowed, turning back to face the elements that raged outside the fragile pane of glass. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt so bad... and he didn't know how to stop it. "Actions speak louder than words, Wufei," he said hoarsely. "I'll be in touch for my things."
"WAIT!" he called after the retreating boy. "Where are you going!"
"I've been offered a proposition," Heero called over his shoulder. "I've decided to look into it."
The door slid shut with a residing <<click>>
"Kisama," he whispered hoarsely, turning back to the bed.
The American boy still slept. He had slept through probably one of the most important events in his life... 'He probably *would* sleep through an Oz attack...' Wufei thought, crawling back into bed and pulling the sleeping boy into his arms. A million thoughts raced through his mind. A million words he could have said differently to convince the other pilot to stay where he belongs.... A million things that could've been done... but weren't.
Had he failed?
Had he even had a chance to win in the first place?
Didn't he win?
He didn't know.
He didn't know and he didn't understand... and he cried himself to sleep in the arms of an unconscious American boy with laughing amethyst eyes and long silky hair, worn always in a braid. He fell asleep in the arms of a boy who called himself Death.
~~Orawa~~ err... Finished...
Andrea Readwolf
Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com