27 Jan 2000
DISCLAIMER: All Gundam Wing characters are property of Sunrise, Bandai Visuals, Sotsu Agency, and Asahi TV. This work is not written for profit, but for entertainment purposes only.
WARNINGS: Contains shounen-ai and lemonish yaoi scenes. Do not continue if you are under 18 years of age and/or uncomfortable with male-male romantic or sexual relationships.
This fic contains scenes that may be disturbing to some readers.
Key for punctuation:
"..." - character dialogue
/.../ - character thoughts
Winner Estate 01 - The Algerian Sahara
Heero sat up with a start and back away from the caressing hand. "Trowa. Good to see you."
"And you as well," the green-eyed boy answered. "It's been a long time."
"Yes, it has."
"You've been with Duo? On L2?"
Heero felt the black thing that had ahold of his heart begin to squeeze. Such a natural thing to ask. 'You've been with Duo?' He could hear the words echoing around in his head.
/So what's the answer crybaby?/
Heero closed his eyes. /No. Not you. Not again. I thought.../
/You thought what, you sniveling little worm? You thought I was gone? You thought I was dead? Just because the war is over out there doesn't mean I go away, pretty boy. There's always a war on in here. Always. If only to put you back down where you belong.../
Trowa's voice cutting through the Soldier's. "Heero? Are you ill? Do you need to lie down again?"
"What? No. I'm... fine. What were you saying?"
"I asked about you and Duo. Is he here with you?"
The Boy nearly crumpled at the simple question. /Gone!! He's gone and I'll never see him again!! I can't take this!! Please! Someone help!! It's too much!!!/
A loud slap of a hand on a tear-stained cheek. /Pathetic. That's what you are. Just pathetic./
"He's - not here," Heero murmured.
/Never again, never again!! HELLLLLLP!!! Someone get me out of here!! Someone bring him back!! PLEEEASE!!/
The Boy was aware of the Soldier ripping him out of control of the body. He was tumbling back down to that horrible place he hadn't seen in over a year. The cell. Bitter cold with smooth steel walls that couldn't be moved, not matter how hard he beat against them. Back here again. Back down in Hell.
Heero's face became impassive suddenly. "What are you doing now?"
"I'm usually on L3, with my sister."
Heero nodded.
Trowa got up and crossed to the window. He scanned the dunes as he spoke, his voice very soft. "I've thought about you. Several times. Wondering where you were. I'm not sure I ever told you - how much I admired what you did. During the war. Without you, all this might not exist anymore." He turned, staring at Heero through his long bangs. "I have to be honest with you. I've missed you. A lot."
Heero stayed expressionless, the Soldier firmly in charge. "I'm not a person to miss, Trowa. And I thought you liked Quatre."
"I do like Quatre. Very much. But -" He broke off and folded his arms in front of him, still staring intently at Heero. "There's something special about you."
/How about this one, crybaby? A better choice I think than that loudmouth baka you're pining over. Besides, if we do it right we get a good lay and maybe the blond one will catch us and throw us out and we'll finally be *free* of this place. What do you say, sissy boy?/
The Boy was horrified. What was the Soldier doing? *Trying* to get them into trouble? Surely he wouldn't take advantage of Trowa just to force them to leave Quatre's place. Surely, surely not? He pounded on the smooth steel walls.
/NO NO NO NO NO!!!! NO!! Keep your hands off him! He's a good person. He deserves better than to be used by you! And I don't want to! I love Duo! I don't want to make love to someone else! I want Duo! Don't do this!! Please, please, God, I beg you!! I beg you.../
His fists were badly bruised from the constant pounding. The walls showed no sign that he had done anything to them. And from far above, the Soldier was laughing at him.
/I'll make sure you feel *everything* you pathetic baby. You're gonna moan and sweat and come all over your pretty friend here. And every minute it's happening you can think about your precious little idiot and how much you're betraying him. How much you're betraying the blond one, too. Because that's the kind of guy you are now. And it's time they saw it./
Heero blinked suddenly. Trowa must have crossed the room to him while the Soldier was tormenting the boy. It was so hard to concentrate when those two were arguing. Now the taller boy was right next to him and the Soldier was pushing Heero forward. "Special? Me?" He said to Trowa as he reached his hand up and buried slender fingers in soft brown hair. "What's so special about me?"
The smallest flicker of a smile crossed Trowa's face. "I don't know. But I've wanted this since I met you." He brought his own hands up to caress Heero's face, inwardly surprised at the pace they were taking. He had thought it would have taken so much longer. /Maybe he's not as attached to Duo as I thought... maybe I have a chance with him now.../
Trowa's thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Heero's lips on his as he was pushed down on the sofa and taken by a rough kiss.
Hotel President Liamine Zeroual, Algiers
Duo and Zechs emerged from the small dining room. It was apparent that Duo had been crying, something that Quatre had never seen him do. He felt a spasm of shock seeing tear-stains on the usually -cheerful face. Even when the fights with Heero had been their worst, Duo had never cried. "Duo?" Quatre asked nervously, "Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah, Quatre." Duo smiled at him weakly. "I just need to go wash my face, 'kay? I'll be right back."
Quatre turned to Zechs, whose intense blue eyes followed Duo's figure until it disappeared down the stairs. "May I ask you something - Zechs?"
The tall man started just a bit, as if he'd forgotten that Quatre had been standing there. "What? Oh, yes, of course. What is it?"
"Whatever it was that happened - that weekend you two met in Sank - is Duo getting over it? Has he been doing well? I don't mean to pry, but it's hard in this kind of situation to get a feeling for how he's been coping day-to-day."
Zechs half sat against a nearby table and folded his arms. "If you'd have asked me that before he got your call, I'd have of said yes, of course he's getting over it. He's been so happy for the most part, especially since we left Africa. We've been on Mallorca for about a week and I've never seen him so constantly cheerful. I feel like I'm finally getting to see the real Duo." The tall man frowned at the floor, adding, "Until he talked to you, that is."
"He's changed since then?" Quatre asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice.
"Most of the time he's still happy. But at times... I'll look over at him and it seems as if all the light has gone out of his eyes. And I know that's when he's thinking about Heero." Zechs got up suddenly and walked over to where a window looked out onto a crowded Algiers street. "The funny thing is, I don't know *what* he's thinking about Heero. It may be that he's remembering what happened that weekend. Or it could be that he's remembering how much Heero meant to him. I simply can't tell. And he won't talk to me about it yet."
Quatre stared at Zechs, taking in the noble bearing and mass of platinum hair that fell down his back to his waist. He hadn't thought before now that this former OZ officer could truly be in love with Duo. They seemed so utterly different, with so little in common. Zechs came from royalty and it showed in everything he did. He was so serious and dignified, so utterly "grown up" in a way that Quatre could never see Duo being, no matter how long he lived. What on Earth or in Space could this man see in *Duo*? And what could Duo see in him that would be strong enough to make him give up on a boy he'd loved so passionately for over two years? He had to know.
"Well, maybe you could explain something to me, then," Quatre ventured, calling on every diplomatic skill he's ever learned. "I don't mean this in an insulting way, truly I don't. But - you and Duo seem so - opposite, and yet you're obviously happy together. I'm just having trouble understanding... " The words just weren't coming.
Zechs turned his head halfway, so that Quatre saw his profile, silhouetted against the window. He was smiling, a bit wistfully. " What we see in each other?" he suggested. "Yes, you probably are. I think most people who've known us would feel that way. We do seem to be very different, don't we? And yet - when I saw him react to what Heero and my sister said that weekend, I just *knew* what he needed. And he's done the same for me. Just *known* somehow, when to say which words, what to do to take away the pain..."
The tall blond had turned back to the window and his head was bowed, voice very low. "You see, Quatre, Duo and I aren't all *that* different. We both have worn masks for far too long - and we're both having trouble adjusting to life without them. But because we've both done it, it's so easy for us to understand each other. We both lost our parents in the wars, we both felt a need to fight for what we lost... and we both feel so damned responsible for the people who are gone now. So much so that we were willing to give up our lives to make it up to them."
Zechs turned suddenly and looked intently at Quatre. "He seems to know what I'm feeling without my saying a word. And I can do the same thing with him. There's a part of me, hidden maybe, that responds to his laughter - needs it so badly. And there's a serious side to him that I can touch, a side that not many other people ever see, although you must have, since he talked to you about his relationship with Heero."
Quatre nodded, knowing exactly the part of Duo that Zechs was referring to. He had seen it so many times, usually when the braided American had been hurt, emotionally or physically, by the disturbed boy he'd loved so much. "Yes," he said softly. "I know what you mean. Most people think he's just a clown, cheerful all the time, never thinking too hard or too deep. But those people don't know him at all." He felt a blush rising to his cheeks. "But you do, I can tell. And I'm glad of that. You... seem to make him very happy." /Much as I hate to admit it,/ he added silently.
Duo came up the stairs just then. "Hey. Why're you two looking so glum? Lighten up, okay? You're givin' me the willies!" A broad grin had replaced the solemn look and the tears were completely washed away. The mask was back in place.
Zechs walked over to Duo and embraced him. "I think I'll take a walk. I've always wanted to see the Souk. Why don't we plan on lunch?" He kissed the braided boy, a long, lingering kiss, and then bowed his head graciously to Quatre before descending the stairs.
Duo watched him go. "He's so incredible," he said, voice no louder than a whisper. Then he turned to Quatre and smiled weakly. "So I guess I should tell you the grisly details, huh?"
Winner Estate 01 - The Algerian Sahara
/A little scary - this is just a little bit too much like the old days... But I've wanted this for so long, don't know why I should react this way... he just seems so... so cold.../
Trowa's hands held on tightly to the slender form on top of him. After the first few kisses, Heero seemed to want less intimacy and more immediate sex and so he had removed, somewhat roughly, both his own and Trowa's pants and underwear, almost tearing through the buttons of Trowa's shirt to leave it sliding off of the taller boy's shoulders. Then he'd spat into his hands, using the saliva as the only lubrication, and thrust into the boy beneath him. Now his eyes were fixed on Trowa's face as he pulled almost all the way out, only the blunt tip of his shaft keeping the tight ring of muscle open, then rammed in, hard before beginning again.
/I want you Heero... I've wanted you, wanted this, as long as I've known you, but you're scaring me, Heero... I don't want to go back there... don't want to be reminded... please... don't take me back there... look at me like you really *see* me... touch me like you *want* to feel my skin... I'm sliding... catch me... please.../
But the Soldier wasn't having any of it. He knew of only two reasons for having sex: physical release and the exercise of power and he was getting both. The other person's feelings didn't really enter in to it. It had been the same with the other boy, the baka who would never shut up. Well, the Soldier had gotten him to shut up a few times, just this same way. In fact, after enough time had gone by, the little bugger had come to like it rough. He could tell, because the complaints had stopped - those irritating noises and the fighting back. Oh yes, he'd come to love getting it that way, and so would this one. Maybe even more.
Screams from deep inside - /No! This isn't how I wanted it to be! Trowa, you have to believe me - I don't want to hurt you... Duo... I'm sorry, Duo! I don't want to do this!... Oh gods you bastard, stop this NOW! / Hands to head and head to knees... /I'm a little ball... just a tiny thing all wrapped up and protected. I'm a ball - no one can hurt me... and I can't hurt anyone else./
Heero was panting heavily and he could tell he was close to coming. He pulled Trowa's arms from around his neck and pinned his wrists above his head, making his thrusts harder and deeper. Trowa's face had become completely expressionless and the Soldier reveled in the submission he felt coming from the other boy. *This* was power over another. *This* was control of another's body. Not many things in this world better than pure control, he gloated to himself. They should have done this to the Boy, he thought. It would have made it so much easier to eliminate him...
A few more hard thrusts, bringing only small grunts from Trowa, and Heero glared down at the green-eyed boy, filling him with pulse after pulse of hot fluid. Deep inside the Boy howled in grief and protest and the soldier, watching him, just laughed.
Hotel President Liamine Zeroual, Algiers
"So that's the whole, ugly story...I couldn't stop him and couldn't stop reacting to him... That made me feel, still does sometimes, that I... I wanted it, somehow. He kept saying that, too. 'You know you want this. I can tell you want me to do this...' " Duo shivered despite the comfortable temperature of the dining room. "And of course if I really wanted it, then I guess I was the one that made it happen."
"NO!" Duo jumped a little as Quatre's fist came down on table. There were so few times he'd seen Quatre really angry that for a moment it looked as if someone else had taken the blond's place. He was leaning forward over the table and looking fiercely into Duo's eyes. "No one's responsible for that but Heero. He's the one who did it and *he's* the one who deserves the blame."
"Quatre - I thought you wanted to help him. If I've done anything by coming here today, I don't want it to hurt him." Duo frowned down at his braid, the end slipping through his fingers over and over. His voice, when he finally spoke again, was low and earnest. "Heero needs something, something really badly. He might tell you that it's me he needs, but don't listen to him, Quatre. I'm not what he needs. Not right now."
"What do you think it is then? What he needs so badly."
A pause and fingers gripping the braid. "I think he has to come to terms with what's been done to him, and because of that, what he's done to other people. There's a part of him that really does care. Cares about how people feel and how he treats them. But there's this other part..." Duo hesitated. He had never told anyone this, not even Zechs, and it was so hard to tell. It brought back bad memories; of being frightened, of being in pain, offering everything he had and being told it was worthless. But someone had to know. Quatre had to know...
He began talking, letting the words come out however they chose. Not knowing if he was making any sense, just getting the words out.
"There's another part of him. The part that got him through the war, I guess. And that part of him is cold. It's brutal, man. I could see it when he got angry with me. Something in his eyes that just wasn't right. And the most horrible thing about it was that nothing could get through to him then. He could be close to killing me, and I'd be begging him to - wake up, snap out of it, *something.* I'd be screaming sometimes and it wouldn't phase him a bit. When he was like that, he could have been made out of steel for all I knew. There was just no one there that cared..."
Duo finally looked up at his friend. His eyes had a haunted look to them. "And then, when it was over? He'd just sort of fall apart. Like he couldn't handle the guilt over what he'd done. It was creepy, in a way. Almost like in his head, he couldn't control it - like he was just watching all the bad stuff happen, ya know? Sometimes it just seemed... like he was almost two people..." Duo searched Quatre's face. "Do you think I'm crazy?" he said softly.
Quatre held the intense violet gaze and slowly shook his head. "No, Duo. You're not crazy. Whatever they did to him, before Operation Meteor, left him in pieces. He's got to get those pieces back together somehow." He reached across the table and took Duo's hand in both of his. "But tell me Duo, what if he does? What if he can finally admit what it is he's done and genuinely change? Would you take him back?"
/God, he sounds like Zechs, except he seems to want a different answer to that question than Zechs does... Why would I go back to that? I'm so happy now, happy to be really loved. And really wanted. Don't have to worry that I'll need too much... Why would I ever give that up for... Heero... only the guy I wanted to spend my life with. Only the one I would have died for, before and after the war. Only the one I thought I couldn't live without.../
He looked up at Quatre and tried to smile. "I don't know, man. I just don't know."
Winner Estate 01 - The Algerian Sahara
The Boy was shaking so hard it took awhile to realize that everything had stopped. He looked down at his hands, pounded raw by his futile attempts to free himself and stop what was happening. He had been so sure that he could stop it, so confident in his control, that he hadn't seen the Soldier's ploy for what it was - a desperate grab for power, one last try, perhaps. /And it was my stupidity that allowed it to succeed. And that poor boy had to pay the price.../
He looked up at the heavy cell door. It was made of polished steel with large bolts spaced about an inch apart all the way around the edge. A small square of bullet-proof glass formed a tiny window at the top, too high to be of any use to him. It was a door he was highly familiar with. He had stared at it for almost eight years while the Soldier was in control. The only way out of his cell had been crawling up the stone wall just in back of it.
/I don't like this door. In fact, I hate it. Keeps me from living, doing anything at all. Why doesn't he get rid of it? How can I make him get rid of it? If I were him, I'd just use a pair of handcuffs instead of going to all this trouble -/
He stopped. He had just said something important. Crucially important, in fact. He had just uttered the key to the entire solution. Now if he could only remember what it was...
Trowa got up from the sofa and dressed. It had been a full hour before he had been able to come back to the present from the safety of the darkness. The sight and smell of reality was a shock, but then, it had been a long time since he'd needed the dark and he was out of practice going between the two. He had sat for a few minutes, getting his bearings before risking standing up. Then the rage had overtaken him.
/No one touches me like that anymore. No one. I put up with it back then because I had to. My life depended on it. But that was then - this is now. And I will never - ever - go back to the way it was. And that's final./
He stood and dressed. Taking the service revolver from his jacket, he walked silently to where Heero sat on the window seat, nearly curled into a ball, his knees drawn up and his arms hugging them. Dark blue eyes were locked onto something outside. Trowa followed his gaze, but saw nothing except endless miles of sand. He never understood what Quatre saw in it, but he knew the small blond loved this view.
He had never been one to approve of shooting an enemy in the back. So before he raised the gun, he reached over and touched Heero's shoulder. The Japanese boy pulled back as if he'd been burnt. For the briefest moment he focused on Trowa's face, but then his gaze unfocused again and his eyes looked as if they watched something happening a thousand miles away.
"Heero -" he said as he leveled the gun at Heero's forehead, "you had no right to do that. And I have no obligation to put up with it. And I won't."
The boy in the window looked once more at Trowa, briefly, and then let his eyes drift again to the sand, streaming in pale rivers away from the estate. In the hoarsest of whispers, Trowa heard him say, "Go ahead. It's what I've been waiting for. But just know... that I'm sorry. So sorry." The voice sounded as if it came from far away but had struggled and succeeded in making it out.
Of course, the Boy thought. It was so simple, it was the first thing I'd overlook. Wouldn't have thought it possible at all, but the memory had returned and there was the evidence. And it had been triggered by that one phrase he had heard himself say: "If I were him, I'd just use a pair of handcuffs..."
"If I were him... If I were him..."
Standing abruptly, the Boy crossed the cold cell to where the door stood, tall and formidable. He reached out a hand and pushed on it lightly and it slowly swung open. Walking out into a dimly lit hall, he noticed signs for the elevators. The car door opened as soon as he'd pushed the large button and he stepped inside, choosing the top floor as his destination.
And the oddest thing about the whole chain of events was that it didn't surprise him in the least.
Hotel President Liamine Zeroual, Algiers
"So, there's a possibility of you taking Heero back?" Quatre asked.
"No! Well - no! It's just that... maybe... oh man! Why did this happen?" Duo put his head in his hands and sat, a perfect picture of misery. "I didn't go to Sank 'cause I wanted a new boyfriend. I went there 'cause I *did* want Heero back."
He looked up at the blond boy, his eyes turning defiant. "Ya know, *he's* the one who left, Quatre. Not me. Maybe Zechs was right and Heero really did figure something out that weekend. But he had a damn ugly way of showing it. 'Cause he hasn't changed. Yeah, maybe he realizes that he can feel something for someone. Maybe he thinks that someone is me. But he still doesn't have a clue about how to handle any of that."
Quatre frowned down at his hands, then looked back at Duo. "You told me once that he was living behind a wall, remember that?"
Duo smiled, a little sadly. "Yeah - I remember."
"Duo - I may be wrong, but I think that wall has come down."
The long-haired boy stared at his friend for a long time, then told him the truth. "Yeah. Whatever Zechs did that weekend it brought down that wall -came crashing down, I'd say. And I thought that was the whole problem. But it's not, Quatre. He doesn't know what to do with any of those feelings. He knows anger and threats and fighting. That's how he's done the feelings thing his whole life and so that's how everything comes out."
He got up and walked to the far end of the room. There was a painting there of the Souk, the market district of Algiers with its dozens of tiny shops and narrow alleyways. Duo reached out a hand and let it hover just above the surface of the canvas, imagining a tall blond walking through those crowded streets. "The trouble is that at the same time all that was happening to him, I discovered that there was a very different way to live. That I can expect my lover to tell me that he loves me. That I can ask to be touched and I can want to touch, and not feel ashamed for it. Lovers can be gentle when you need them to be, and they can laugh right out loud, even when you're out where people can hear you. You can give them love and... they give it right back."
Quatre sighed and rested his chin in his hands, absently noting the puddle of braid that was forming as Duo leaned back against the table. He didn't want to ask the next question but it was really what he came here to find out. "So, if I asked you if you still loved Heero, you would say no?"
The long-haired boy seemed to freeze at that question. Quatre had never seen him so utterly devoid of movement. Several seconds went by before Duo's nearly-whispered reply. "No, I couldn't say that. I don't know if I'll ever be able to say that about him. But I love Zechs, too. Both of them..."
He spun around suddenly and faced his friend. "I can't imagine living with Heero again, and I won't give up Zechs, not for anything... But please, Quatre - don't ask me if I love Heero. You know I do, and... I think Zechs does too. 'Course he doesn't like it much, but he hasn't told me to leave because of it." He smiled miserably at the blond. "Ya know, Q-man, I always wanted there to be a special person out there for me - that soulmate thing. And when I met Heero I knew I'd found that person. But... every day that I'm with Zechs, I feel more sure that I belong with him. That I need him like I need food and water and air." He shook his head, the long braid swaying behind him. "Right now, it's gotta be just me and him. I can't take what Heero's dishing out anymore."
He sat down next to Quatre, who looked at him with eyes that reflected hurt and sadness. "I'm sorry, Quatre. I know that wasn't what you wanted to hear. But it's the truth, man. And it's important to me that you - that he - knows the truth."
A small tear ran down Quatre's cheek. "I understand, Duo. I really do. It's just sad to me to see you two like this. I care so much about both of you, it's hard to watch this all from the outside and feel so helpless about it."
"I don't know, Q - Heero needs to find a way to live with all his feelings again. He's a stranger to them. Maybe... maybe you'll be the one he listens to. God knows he couldn't or wouldn't listen to me. But you - I think he just might. Maybe you're not as helpless as you think."
Duo checked his watch - it was past the time that he'd told Zechs they'd be done. He walked to the door and opened it. Sure enough, Zechs was waiting for him, standing with his back to the dining room door, studying a collection of oil paintings on the far wall. He had to smile, seeing the long sheaf of platinum hair spilling down his back - such a familiar sight now. Warmth, sadness, and hope warred inside of him and for the moment, he just let them be.
"Are you gonna have lunch with us, Q-man?" Duo asked, keeping his eyes on the tall man across the room.
Quatre watched him as he watched Zechs. "No, I have some business that should be attended to here in the city - things I can't do from home. I should get it done now and then get back." He put a hand on Duo's shoulder and the other boy turned to look at him at last. "Thank you for coming, Duo. I know it wasn't easy, but I really do appreciate it."
Duo gave his friend a hug. "I'm just sorry I couldn't give you what you came for," he whispered.
The young Arabian smiled back at him. "You were honest. That's what I needed from you. And Duo," he added as they walked towards the tall blond. "I *am* glad that you're happy. Really I am."
He stood and watched the two leave the hotel with their arms around each other. Duo's head just reached Zechs' shoulder, chestnut hair dark and glossy against palest gold. /They look good together... and very happy... so why am I so sad...?/
Winner Estate 01 - The Algerian Sahara
Trowa kept the gun aimed at Heero's forehead. "I loved you. And you treat me like this. Are you really a monster like they said you were?"
A slight, dark-haired boy stepped over a slumbering soldier and answered Trowa. "No. I'm not a monster. I'm every bit as human as you." Heero spoke the words as he leaned against the window frame and stared at the reflection he saw.
The Boy looked down at the Soldier, who looked altogether different now that he knew they were one and the same. Less threatening, less unpredictable, and far less in control. He tried as hard as he could to explain it to the boy who now threatened both their lives.
"There's a part of me in here, Trowa, here inside. A part I haven't been able to control." The Boy knelt by the Soldier's sleeping form. "I think that part is really hurt. So it hurts other people, too. It's been trained to."
Heero turned and looked at Trowa, dark blue eyes boring into green ones. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Trowa. It seems... like that's all I do now. Hurt people."
Trowa slowly lowered the gun. He narrowed his eyes, sensing something odd. /It's almost as if more than one person is talking to me. There's Heero and then... someone else. And those two seem completely different from the one who hurt me. What is this, Heero? What's happened to you?/
Heero stared down at his hands and continued, his voice just the slightest bit shaky. "I don't know how to stop hurting people. I hurt the person I cared about the most and now he's gone."
"So that's why he's not here with you."
Heero nodded.
Trowa stood for a moment, not moving. He appeared to come to some kind of decision and put the gun back into his jacket holster, then sat on the back of the sofa. /If he wants to talk, he'll talk. And I hope he does. It'd probably be good for him./
Looking up at the calm, green-eyed boy, Heero and the Boy began to work together to get the story out. "It'll take a while," they told the other boy.
"That's all right. I have time," Trowa answered.
Winner Private Jet 03 / over the Algerian Sahara
It had been a much longer afternoon then Quatre had anticipated, stretching to a dinner meeting with a client who turned up unexpectedly. Now, heading back to the estate over an inky black desert, he was finally able to think about the morning's meeting with Duo.
/It's obvious that he's happy with Zechs and that he still has a lot of bad feelings about what Heero did to him at Sank. And yet he told me he still loved Heero.../ The long-haired boy's words came back to his tired mind and he went over them again and again. /...'maybe you'll be the one he listens to... maybe you're not as helpless as you think.'/ He sighed, a small frown wrinkling the smooth forehead. "But if I'm the one he'll listen to, how do I figure out what to say?" He whispered the words into the quiet calm of the plane's cabin. Putting his head back against the seat cushion, he added, "I wish Trowa was here..."
Winner Estate 01 - The Algerian Sahara
The Boy was exhausted. He had told the green-eyed boy everything. Well, *nearly* everything. There were some things that no one would ever know, most likely. The other boy had been very patient and had listened to it all. And now, he waited for judgment from that calm creature.
"What happened to you was horrible, Heero. It was a crime." Trowa looked very thoughtful for a moment, then continued. "Seems like it was that way for a lot of us. "The people who did it never paid for what they did, and now we have to live with the mess."
"I'm sorry hurt you. Honestly."
Trowa nodded. "It's forgotten." He walked over and sat on the window seat next to Heero. He stared at the dark-haired boy for a long time and then reached out and took Heero's icy hand in both of his.
"You're so cold," he murmured.
"Always," Heero replied. "Always cold. It's hard to get warm these days." He looked out the window again, trying to get away from those pretty green eyes and the questions they held. Questions that he didn't think he had answers for.
"Heero - if you ever need someone, for anything at all, you know you can come to me. All right?" Trowa took one hand away from Heero's and tenderly brushed long bangs out of the Japanese boy's eyes, and letting it drop a bit, his thumb brushing over Heero's lips. Heero seemed to relax, to lean into his touch, so he did it again and leaned toward Heero.
It was at that moment that Quatre happened to walk in.
"T- Trowa... When did you get here?" the small blond stammered. His mood had just been set swinging between elation at the sight of the tall, slim boy, and anguish at the way that same boy was touching Heero. /Trowa... I thought... I... Stupid! I've been so stupid!/
Trowa watched Quatre's face as he struggled between the two emotions. He got up and walked over to him, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. Quatre pulled back as if he'd been slapped.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice almost a whisper. "I... didn't mean to interrupt." And with that, he turned and fled.
"Quatre!" Trowa called after him. He turned to look at Heero, but Wing's ex-pilot was staring impassively out the window, almost as if nothing had happened.
Trowa put a hand out and brushed it lightly over Heero's hair. "Heero?"
After a moment, the boy looked up.
"Was he interrupting anything - Heero?" Green eyes fixed blue ones with a firm gaze.
"Trowa," Heero said, his voice hoarse with emotion, "I love Duo. I'm sorry, but... I love Duo."
Trowa nodded and left the room to find Quatre.
The Winner heir had gone upstairs to his bedroom and was lying in darkness, trying very hard to feel happy for the two of them. /I guess I didn't have to worry about Heero getting over Duo... he didn't need my help at all. Just Trowa... and why didn't I see it all this time? No wonder he's been so reserved with me - it isn't me he's been wanting! And I was so blind about it all... oh, this hurts... it hurts so much.../
He was rolled up in a little ball on the bed when Trowa came in. "Quatre. We need to talk."
Quatre struggled to make his voice sound normal, not sitting up or meeting Trowa's eyes. "No, we really don't, Trowa. I understand. Really I do. I would never stop you from being with someone you truly wanted. I hope you know that. It's true I love you, but that means that I want you to be happy and if you'd be happy with Heero and not me, then... that's what I want for you."
Trowa sat on the edge of the bed, close, but not touching the slender blond. "I don't know what I want, Quatre. And that's not fair to you."
/Not fair to me, Trowa? I'll tell you what's not fair. Coming home to find you almost kissing Heero - that's not fair!/
Quatre shook his head from side to side on the pillow. "Trowa, please -don't..."
"I need to work that out for myself. So I'm going."
/Damn you, Trowa! Can't you just say you'll forget about him? Can't you just hold me and take me and tell me you'll stay? Can't you...? Please...?/
"It's probably best that we don't see each other for a bit. But I'll be in touch, I promise."
/Sure you will, Trowa... and you'll be so polite... and so will I. And each time we talk to each other over the comm unit, all nice and polite, I'll die a little more inside.../
Trowa reached out, his hand hovering over the blond head, as if he were going to stroke Quatre's hair. But at the last minute he pulled his hand back and quietly stood. "Goodbye, Quatre."
/Don't go!! Please, please don't leave me here like this! Don't you care about what you're doing to me? Isn't there any feeling for me inside of you? Oh change your mind and say there is!!/
"Goodbye, Trowa."
Heero was still at his place by the window when Quatre came downstairs, several hours later. He stood in the doorway to the living area, staring at the boy who stared at the desert. /We both need something to change. We need to put things into perspective, so they don't look so overwhelming. And I need to stop feeling resentful that he got Trowa to feel things that I could never pull from him... Ah, Trowa! Why does it hurt this much?/
"Heero," he said, crossing the room and taking the boy's shoulder in hand. "Come with me. We're going out."
The Great Eastern Erg - near the Winner Oasis / Algerian Sahara
The two boys headed out into the cold desert night. It was close to 1 am, but neither one of them felt sleepy, given what had happened that evening. Quatre had had to fight tooth and nail to make the Manguanacs stay behind, and Rashid was still fuming at him. But in Quatre's mind, this was a crucial pilgrimage and it had to be just the two of them.
So, here they were, in the middle of Grand Erg Oriental, which took the form of a huge wall of sand to the left of where they rode. Quatre was on the lead camel, looking every inch the Berber in his long headdress. His animal was tethered to Heero's, which walked just behind and to the right. Heero also wore a headdress, one he had donned with serious objection until Quatre had demonstrated how the design of it not only kept out the cold of the nighttime air, but also provided protection against blowing sand. "Come on, Heero. My ancestors have worn these for thousands of years. No one's ever been able to improve on the design - it's perfect for this land. Now put it on!"
And, surprisingly, Heero had obeyed.
Quatre led them to the top of the Erg, a climb that took a good thirty minutes from where they had begun. When their camels stood at the top of the dune, they scrambled down from them and let the desert present itself.
Heero walked a little ways beyond Quatre. As far as he could see, there was nothing but sand and starlight - a sky so black it seemed impossible that the sun could ever shine there again. The dunes took on the appearance of waves coming towards them, causing him to feel somewhat disoriented. His eye needed something to fix on, but there was nothing in that unbroken landscape - nothing but the undulation of the erg, cutting through the night desert like a great worm beneath the sand, stretching to the horizon. There was something here that resonated, but it wasn't a pleasant feeling. No, not at all...
"So. Heero." Quatre's voice was low and intimate. "This is what you've been staring at, night after night. This is what lies beyond that window. And I know you feel something for it. Does it make you feel peaceful, this place? Is it soothing? Is that why you look at it so long? Does it help to actually be out here?" Quatre stood behind the silent, motionless figure, willing Heero to talk to him. There was nothing but silence from the Japanese boy for almost 10 minutes, but then, when Quatre had almost given up, Heero finally spoke.
"This is what I fear the most."
The young Arabian frowned in puzzlement and took a step closer to Heero. "Fear? But I thought - you kept looking at it. Couldn't take your eyes off of it. I thought you wanted to be out here..."
"It's hard to take your eyes off your worst nightmare, Quatre. And this is mine. This is mine."
"But... why, Heero? When I look out here, I see such a peaceful land. The sand fits itself to the earth but also changes with the wind. It's never quite the same desert that you saw the day before. How could this be a nightmare? What is it that you're seeing, Heero?"
The dark-haired boy was silent for a moment, staring intently off into the inky blackness of the nighttime Sahara. Inside, the Boy stepped over the body of the Soldier and took control again. "Unending night," he breathed. "The absolute end of light and life and warmth. A sky that won't ever know the sun again. Ground that won't ever grow a thing. No life, no hope, anywhere... That's what I see. That's what I've been watching come toward me, just on the other side of that window."
Quatre walked the rest of the way to where Heero stood. "Heero - are you thinking that that's what it will be like, forever?"
"Without Duo - yes."
Quatre looked out again at the silky desert, amazed that anyone could see it as less than the stunning place it was. But then again - his father had taught him quite a bit about the Berbers and the life they'd lived here for centuries before anyone thought of Space. And Quatre remembered a piece of wisdom that was so simple, it was often difficult to understand fully. But he had to try, now, to explain that powerful idea to Heero.
"There's a legend among the Berbers," he began, "about the time our people first saw the desert. They were fearful, too, and completely despairing, because they saw no life here, no water, no animals, no shelter from the burning sun or the night's cold. They saw it the way you see it, Heero.
"But then, a spirit came out of the desert, and took hold of the Berber people's hearts. It made them see that the only reason the desert looked so frightful to them was that they were seeing it with their old eyes. The spirit gave them new eyes, eyes that weren't expecting to see water in a certain place, or animals in specific homes. With their new eyes, the Berbers could see that the desert held it's own loveliness and it was only after they acknowledged the difference that they learned to live here in comfort. If they had hung onto their old ways of seeing - to their old eyes - they would never have mastered desert life.
"But the Berbers know now. They know that what looks dry can hide water like a secret. They know that a stretch of ground that appears lifeless is teeming with life, just below the surface." Quatre took a breath and reached out for Heero's cold hand. "And Heero? They know that even when the desert is at its darkest, there *is* light coming. But they had to accept the darkness before they could be certain about the light."
Heero turned his head and stared at the small blond next to him. After a long pause, he whispered, "Quatre... say that again."
"They had to accept the darkness before they could be certain about the light."
The Japanese boy stared at the sand stretching out in front of him for a long, long time. The he sank to his knees, his eyes glazed and focused inward on his own thoughts. After a long, long silence, a solitary tear traced a path down his cheek and he said softly, "Duo isn't coming back anytime soon, is he? That's why you brought me out here."
As he looked at the small figure kneeling in the sand, Quatre found his own tears, as well. /He's so lost; so utterly alone. And he's finally realized he doesn't want to be.../
"No, Heero, he isn't. Not any time soon."
"I've been so afraid... that if... if I accept that... that he's really gone... then my life becomes like this desert... and the darkness will just go on forever..."
Quatre's words were kind but firm. "I think you *have* to accept that Heero, if you ever want to see the light again. Maybe Duo will be there, maybe he won't. But you have to recognize that he's not going to be coming here to find you. You can't just seal yourself off from everyone and wait for him to get here because that won't happen. Trust me, Heero. It just won't happen."
Heero looked up, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of one hand. "Tell me there's an end to this. Please. I need to know there's an end... because I'm tired... I'm so tired..."
Quatre knelt beside the dark-haired boy and put his arms around Heero's shoulders. For all the hardened muscle and wiry power, the other boy still felt small and tonight, every vulnerable. He spoke softly. "I think the first step in getting home is to realize that you're not there. And I also think that you just did that."
Heero put his head down in his hands. Quatre sat beside him, arms around the slender shoulders, and the two of them rode the dune far into the desert night before mounting the animals and heading back to the estate.
owari
(:./kumiko/2road4)
