1998
Standard Disclaimers apply.
"Waaa - !" Duo cried as his body sailed over the blonde girl's slight shoulders. How the hell was this possible? The question flashed through his mind as his back came into painful contact with an unfortunate chair that collapsed under his unprecedented landing.
"Aww Gawd," he moaned, struggling to a sitting position, barely aware of a faint thudding sound coming from somewhere behind him. At approximately the same moment, he apparently managed to reduce a perfectly good chair into a heap of so much useless wood chips. Duo turned slightly, seeing Relena's hair fall across her shoulders in what seemed like slow motion before he heard the loud crack of gunshot.
What the-! Surprised, the longhaired boy opened his mouth in silent exclamation - but a sudden hot searing pain cutting across the back of his head all the way to his temple, ensured that whatever he might have to say remained unheard. With a small, choked gasp, Duo faintly registered someone - Heero? - calling out his name in alarm before everything around him faded to black.
Heero gaped in shocked horror, the name tumbling out of his parted lips without him even realising it.
"Duo..."
The Japanese boy could only stare mutely as the gun's retort preceded the sudden gush of crimson that bathed shiny newly-washed chestnut locks, turning the rich brown hair into a sickening russet that spread without any hint of ever stopping. His heart screamed for him to move; his brain wailed for him to pull the longhaired boy away, but his muscles betrayed him as they surrendered to the mixed signals brought on by the sounds and the sights that threatened to overwhelm his senses.
Helplessly, Heero watched as Duo's body - stiffly held in surprise a mere fraction of a second ago - slowly collapsed limply onto the floor. With what could only be described as morbid fascination, Heero watched tiny droplets of blood spray onto the pale carpet, flicked off those long locks that once provided him with so many hours of wondrous pleasure. The soft thud of Duo's body as it fell to the floor seemed to echo through the room, adding more layers of confusion to his already addled mind.
"Iie!!!" Relena's shrill shriek burst in his brain like a thousand fireworks, shredding the uncertainty and triggering his reflexes to finally overcome the sudden paralysis that held his body enthralled. Heero sprinted - almost leaped - to the fallen body of his lover, gathering the longhaired boy into his arms.
"D-Duo?" he whispered, voice shaky and hesitant. Why was he so still? Why wasn't he moving? Move, damn you! Move!
"Duo...say something...anything..."
But the Shinigami pilot remained silent in his arms, his violet irises barely visible under the lashes of barely open eyes. Duo's face remained slack, even as Heero shook him - gently at first but more violently when he didn't get any response. Cupping the braided pilot's head in one hand, Heero's stomach churned as the skin seemed to move under his gently probing fingers. A warm, wet stickiness washed over his hand, covering it with the lifeblood of the one who was his life.
Heero choked back an inarticulate cry, gripping Duo's torn scalp in an effort to stop the outflow of blood. But even as he did that, more seemed to seep through in between his slightly trembling fingers. Vaguely, Heero felt hands grabbing at his arm and shoulder, pulling his attention away towards...
Relena...
"Iie! Iie! I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to!" Relena sobbed hysterically, shaking her head furiously as she clawed at the Japanese boy's arm, desperation and fear clear in her wide blue eyes. "I didn't mean to, Heero! The gun wasn't loaded! I didn't mean to kill him!"
Kill him?
"No!" Heero cried, unleashing a measure of pent-up emotion as the arm that Relena was clinging to swung back violently in a wide arc, hurling the girl backwards. "Stay away from him! Stay away from me! He's not dead! He's NOT dead!" Heero screamed, hugging Duo's body closer to his chest, heedless of the blood soaking his tank top. "You're not dead, Duo," he whispered into unhearing ears, turning back to the still body in his arms. "You're not dead, not dead..."
But even as Heero's hand felt the steady outflow of blood, his skin could not feel the stirring of breath coming from his lover's parted lips. His ears could not hear the steady tattoo of Duo's heartbeats. His eyes could not see the faint blush of life on Duo's rapidly cooling skin.
And try as he might to ignore it, the sweetly pungent smell of Duo's blood brought back all-too-familiar memories of death.
"Not dead, not dead, not dead,..." Heero muttered unconsciously, a mantra to quell the fear that flared so fiercely within him. But as he uttered the words, his voice began to die down to an inaudible whisper before finally, the words only looped over and over again in his mind...
DeadDeadDeadDeadDeadDead.....
[Do we deserve a second chance
How did we fall into this circumstance
We weren't so straight and narrow
This is much more than we deserve]
"Let him go, Heero."
The words reverberated in his head, pounding on the doors of his consciousness. But they sounded so far away. So very far away. He barely felt the hands on his shoulders, his arms. He just knew that someone was touching him, pulling at the precious burden he held in his grasp.
Heero held him closer. No one could take him away. No one could take Duo away again.
Was this what Relena felt? This hopeless emptiness? This empty space where once his laughter had roamed so freely? He never knew he could feel any emptier, any more hopeless. Was this dying? If not, it felt close...
"Heero."
Trowa's voice.
At the same time, strong hands gripped his, prying at his fingers, trying to loosen the hold on the boy in his arms.
His Duo.
MineMineMineMine!
Heero dug his fingers in deeper, resisting those insistent hands easily. This was what he should have done long ago. This was what he should have done that evening. He should have just held on, never letting go of him. He should have just held him safe and let Duo sleep when he wanted to. He shouldn't have woken him up. At least he would still be safe. A little hungry perhaps, but safe.
At least Duo would still be alive.
Somebody slapped his face, the force rocking him slightly where he sat.
It felt like a gossamer breeze.
What else would they try? What else would they do to take Duo away from him? He was already gone. Couldn't they just leave him in peace?
GoawayGoawayGoaway...
Quatre blinked, slightly more than a little dazed. The room was in chaos. As soon as they'd arrived on the scene, he'd had an inkling that he wouldn't like what he would find. And what he saw only confirmed his worst suspicions. The blonde pilot of Sandrock rubbed at his temples, trying to massage away the sudden stabbing ache that threatened to split his head apart.
What was happening? Why was this happening?
He'd been in the drawing room, chatting with Trowa and Wufei over a hot cup of tea when they heard the shot. They had been discussing Relena's outburst and he'd told Trowa that he was worried about what the girl might do. But he'd never suspected this. Not in a million years did he ever expect things to go this far...
"Quatre-sama!" Quatre turned in the direction of the voice. One of the manservants stood beside him, bowing and sweating profusely. "What shall we do, Quatre-sama? What do you want us to do?"
How the hell do I know, he felt like shouting.
But he didn't.
This was not the time to panic. That feeling had already made itself felt when he first poked his head into the room. And he hadn't liked it then. Trowa had rushed immediately to Heero's side, all the while gesturing that he take care of Relena and - other matters.
Deep inside, the blonde realised what Trowa was trying to do. Even at a time like this, the taller boy insisted on protecting him. Inside, he felt a small voice rallying rebelliously, insisting that he did not need to be so coddled, so sheltered. But strangely enough, there was also a part of him that did not wish to see what he might see; that did not want to know the truth. There was a part of him that did not feel like it could handle the bare facts thrown in his face.
And that part of him sighed in relief when Trowa took over.
Quatre turned to where Relena sat, still muttering incoherently. Her eyes were glazed and she looked a mess; her beautifully plaited hair hung around her face like limp rats' tails, pulled from their moorings by her own fingers still tearing through her hair. Quatre gestured to a maid who hovered by the door, indicating that she try to calm the girl down. He'd do it himself, but at that particular moment he just didn't have the mood to calm anybody down.
He was the one who needed calming down.
"Trowa?" He saw the Heavyarms pilot kneeling beside Heero, still trying to pry him away from the too-still body in the Japanese boy's arms. Trowa looked up, worry turning the serene green of his eyes into sharp, flickering points of light. He shook his head, looking back at the blonde.
"He won't let go," Trowa said softly. His hands were bloody from his efforts, though not as marked as the darkhaired boy's beside him.
Quatre sighed. This wasn't happening. They were only supposed to get hurt on missions. Not in the safety of his own home; not during a lull like this. This can't be happening! Somewhere in the distance, Quatre heard his own voice asking shakily, "Is he alright? Is Duo alright?"
But his question was met with silence, and that silence clutched at his heart like the talons of an eagle squeezing mercilessly around its helpless prey. Trowa's eyes refused to meet his as the blonde looked towards the taller boy for some consolation. A lump rose in his throat when he saw the strange look in the deep-set green eyes of his lover.
Trowa had the most beautiful green eyes - at least to him anyway. But so often, those eyes would be so deep and empty to others. Only in his presence did those eyes light up with something that closely resembled tenderness and love. And for that small measure, Quatre was thankful. But the look he saw in those green eyes now, made a strangled sob involuntarily escape his throat. There was fear in those eyes - fear and concern. Fear and concern, but no hope.
No hope...
Something in the back of his mind refused to accept that statement. Duo was death. Death did not die. Could not die...
Blankly, Quatre turned to look at the girl on the floor, slowly being supported - nearly carried - by Wufei to the bed. Dazedly, he tried to register that somehow, in some manner of insane irony, Relena had finally claimed her prize. Only perhaps, the cost would be too much for the girl to bear.
"Quatre!" The blonde's head snapped up at the insistent call, blue eyes turning to Trowa's direction. The taller boy looked back at him, a strange look of triumph and - happiness? - dancing in his eyes. "Quatre! He's still alive," Trowa said, his voice low as though the slightest rise in volume would shatter the revelation before him, but ecstatic nonetheless.
What?
[A higher voice has called the tune
Two hearts that lost the beat will now resume
The gift of life extension
By divine intervention]
Suddenly, everything seemed to rush by with an amazing swiftness for the Winner heir. Automatically, commands and orders were flung with machine-like precision, delivered in a tone that brooked no arguments and demanded immediate attention from his employees. Gratefully, milling servants rushed to attend to them, leaving the room quiet once more.
"How do you know?" Quatre asked, dropping to his knees beside Trowa. Glancing at Heero, he was shocked by the emptiness he saw in those blue eyes. But he was more shocked by the look of his other friend. The one that always had trouble keeping quiet. Duo looked so pale, he couldn't be alive. He could only see one half of his face, the other buried against Heero's chest. That boy's tank top was soaked with a dark liquid - it could only be blood - turning the dark material even darker. Perhaps that contrast was what made Duo look so remarkably white.
Like he had been bled dry.
Quatre shook his head fiercely, freeing himself from the morbid turn his thoughts had taken. Trowa was trying to push his hands through Heero's arms - the boy had shifted, and now embraced Duo's body with a ferocity that was heartrending.
"I can still feel his pulse...but it's thready," Trowa said softly. "We need to get him to a hospital or a doctor, quickly."
"There isn't a hospital within an hour of here," Quatre answered dejectedly. This location was chosen for its remoteness, after all. "But the doctor's coming." Luckily, the Winners always had suitably qualified medical personnel perpetually on call for the benefit of their employees. And ever since the war started, the stead had been equipped with the necessary medical supplies and apparatus. "He should be here soon."
The blonde eyed the still body in Heero's arms. "We need to get him to let go, Trowa. We have to stop the bleeding."
"I know," Trowa huffed rather dejectedly, eyeing Heero's blank face. "I tried but.."
"You tried the wrong way," Wufei's voice cut in quietly. Wufei walked over from the bed where he had deposited Relena, leaving her in the maid's care. "You people always deal with force and anger. Sometimes, a gentler approach works wonders," the Chinese boy sighed. He crouched behind Heero, peering at the darkhaired boy's gently rocking body. Wufei reached out with a few tentative fingers, easing away a few locks of dark hair. He delivered a series of quick, short jabs at the base of Heero's neck and shoulders. And before Quatre's and Trowa's amazed faces, the Wing pilot suddenly collapsed into a boneless heap.
Wufei smiled grimly, raising a finely arched eyebrow. "Amazing what a few fingers can do, ne?"
Heero sat on the floor of the corridor, his knees drawn up close to his chest. He hugged them closer, noting the difference in the hard feel of his legs as compared to the limp body he'd held barely an hour ago. He'd awakened in another's room, in another's bed. Alone....
"Duo!" Heero sat up abruptly, eyes swiftly adjusting to the dimly lit surroundings. His body felt stiff, aching in places he'd never realised could ache before. The boy's hand reached to rub at a knot that throbbed dully at the base of his neck, easing away some of the tenseness. Was it a dream? A nightmare? Had he just dreamt it all?
"You're awake." A soft, flat voice cut through the semi-darkness. Heero's eyes glittered as he made out the figure rising slowly from a chair by the door.
Trowa.
Trowa walked over slowly, stopping when he reached the side of the bed and bowed his head slightly to get a closer look at the dazed looking Wing pilot. "You alright?"
"Why shouldn't I be?" the darkhaired boy growled softly. Something egged at him in the back of his mind, nudging him to remember...something...
Heero stirred, moving to get off the bed but strong hands held him back. Heero looked into the green eyes, barely discernible in the half-light. Why? What was Trowa doing?
"What're you doing?" he asked, mirroring the question in his head.
Trowa looked at him strangely - almost quizzically - his eyebrows shooting up in an almost comical fashion. "Are you sure you're alright?" the boy asked again, lightly flicking his head to nudge away the fall of hair that tended to cover his eye.
"Ch'!" Heero pushed away at the other boy's hands, the all-too-familiar scowl settling once more over his features. "Why are you here?" he asked, running his eyes across the strange room. Where was here? This wasn't his room, or Duo's...
"We wanted to be sure you're okay. Can't afford two pilots out of commission," Trowa answered with a wry smile.
"Two?" Heero turned back to the Heavyarms pilot, slightly tilting his head in askance.
A surprised look lit up the normally-impassive eyes before him. "You...you don't remember?" Trowa almost gasped.
"Remember what?"
"Duo...and Relena...and.."
"Duo?" Suddenly a look of realisation flashed across the Japanese boy's features. But before Trowa could say a word, the other was gone, leaving a violently swinging door in his wake.
"Shit!" Trowa cursed softly, running after the Wing pilot.
The Japanese boy hugged his knees tighter, pulling himself into a small, compact ball. He had rushed out when he had remembered. How could he forget? That bitch that called herself human - Relena - had shot the one person he lived for. Oh, perhaps she didn't mean to; after all, she had been after him, not Duo. That boy had just been at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Heero's breath hitched in his throat, remembering Duo's face as the longhaired boy reached out for Relena's gun. He was smiling - nearly laughing. Those tiny little speckles of light shining in his violet eyes...So alive, so very alive.
"Duo.." The name fell from his lips in a barely-audible sigh. "You swore," Heero's voice croaked faintly. "You swore on your life..."
Something twitched at the back of his eyes, digging at the corners of his eyelids. Stinging and insistent, sharp needles of - something - tickled at the flaps of skin. The feeling was familiar, but nearly forgotten. It had been so long since he'd felt it. So very long. Before, pain had called it forth. But now... Now it was sorrow. The shorthaired boy ducked his head into the space between his drawn-up legs and chest, feeling the hot streams cascade down his cheeks, washing away the pain but not the terror.
No.
That remained.
For as long as he could remember that face...
And Heero Yuy never forgets.....
Running at nearly full-speed, Heero had left Trowa behind. Reaching his room, the darkhaired boy had thrown open the door, rushing - almost falling - into the last place where he had seen Duo. And almost immediately, his eyes flew to the corner where he had held him last.
But Duo wasn't there; there was nothing there but some scraps of wood and a few dark spots alien to the pale-coloured carpeting. Where is he? Heero's mind screamed, blocking out everything other than the fact that the one he seeked was not where he should be.
"Heero!" The surprised voice calling his name broke through the white wall of confusion in his brain, and his head snapped in that voice's direction, vertebrae popping audibly. It was Quatre. The blonde had been standing by the bed, beside an older man he had never seen before. No, wait... He had seen that man before... That man was hunched over the mattress, his back to the Japanese boy. At Heero's sudden entrance the man jerked, turning his head to peer at the intruder over wire-rimmed glasses. Heero could see a familiar instrument around the man's neck. He wasn't using it, but Heero knew very well what it was. And he knew who the man was, too. It was the doctor - the same one who came over when Relena had first made her appearance at the stead. That meant...
For a very brief instant, hope flared in his wildly tripping heart. For a very brief moment, Heero entertained that tiny, tiny spark of hope. Heero's voice caught as he tried to call out Duo's name, his mouth moving soundlessly.
"Heero," Quatre said softly, his hands holding onto the darkhaired pilot's arm gently but firmly. "Come on, you need to sit down."
Vaguely, Heero felt himself moving, guided to a chair by the door. He felt himself being manoeuvred into it, settling himself into it. "Duo," Heero finally managed to say, grasping at Quatre's sleeve. "H-how is he? Is he alright?" The last word came out with a choke, as he finally tore his gaze away from the bed, looking into the blonde's soft blue eyes.
Quatre started.
The look in Heero's eyes surprised him. There was sorrow, yes; there was also pain. That was to be expected. Heero and Duo had been close. All of them had been close, and anyone's loss would be everyone's loss as well. But the blonde was unprepared for the terror and the desperation in those dark blue eyes. Heero was never desperate. Heero was never afraid. But the boy before him showed all those emotions, and more.
And his voice....
There were tears in that voice, even if there were none in Heero's eyes. But he was crying, Quatre could tell. Deep inside Heero was crying...
Suddenly, the realisation hit him - fell on Quatre like a ton of bricks. In front of him - staring at him with frightened, barely hopeful eyes - was someone scared to death of losing a loved one.
A loved one!
Silently, Quatre admonished himself. Baka! How could he have missed it? Had he been so wrapped in himself and Trowa that he had failed to notice? And after seeing how Heero had reacted earlier, how could he have not noticed? Baka!Baka!Baka!
"Quatre," Heero whispered again, his voice low but laced with a faint hint of hysteria.
"He's OK, Heero. He's alright," Quatre smiled, trying to convey some semblance of cheer on his face, but knowing that he was sadly lacking in that department. That was Duo's speciality, he thought. Duo was the one who always cheered people up. He just did the worrying. And right now, he was worried as hell.
A soft hand gripped his shoulder firmly, causing the blonde to look up. Trowa stood behind him, nodding slightly and gesturing towards the bed.
"You go and see what else the doctor needs," Trowa said softly. "I'll take care of Heero."
"Aa," Quatre nodded, a little glad but somewhat reluctant.
"Heero," Trowa said as he tugged on Heero's upper arm. "Come on, we'll wait outside." Inwardly, the taller pilot flinched when the other boy turned to him, looking into his face with just the slightest hint of recognition behind those dark blue eyes. Never had he seen this boy so vulnerable. Why would Heero act this way? What was Duo to him that he would affect Heero this way? Brushing away the questions in his mind, Trowa tugged gently once more - and this time, the darkhaired boy followed, nodding slightly.
[It's gotta be a strange twist of fate Telling me that Heaven can wait
Telling me to get it right this time
Life doesn't mean a thing
Without the love you bring
Love is what we've found
The second time around]
Quatre frowned, biting a little on his lower lip as he picked away long strands of chestnut hair off the pillow. Duo would be sad, but it had to be done. And what was a bit of hair compared to a life?
"You won't cut off too much, will you?" the blonde asked softly, his gaze alternating between the doctor's face and the man's hand that had just begun to snip away at his friend's hair. "He...Duo's had that since he was a child. It...it holds memories, I think," he breathed, his tone somewhere in between pleading and resignation.
The older man blinked, stopping in his work to look up at the sad face before him. "Winner-san," the man answered. "He's still a child. All of you are...though sometimes," he paused, turning back to the scissors in his hand. "Sometimes I find it hard to believe..." the man continued, his voice low.
"What do you mean?" Quatre asked curiously.
The older man gestured to the Sandrock pilot to keep the rest of Duo's hair from falling onto the wound as he cleaned it. "How can one be a child still, ne? When one hardly has a childhood to speak of?"
Quatre gave the man a lop-sided smile, though his eyes did not share the implied emotion. "It's the war, Syaheed-san. It messes everyone up."
"All the more reasons memories are important, eh?" the man winked, smiling a little as he stitched broken skin carefully through masses of brown.
The blonde smiled gratefully. "Arigatou," he sighed.
Heero sighed. He had been sitting in this corridor for what - minutes? An hour? Two? Trowa had come and had led him out of the room. At that moment he'd wanted nothing more than to stay where he was, to go to the side of the boy on the bed. But his body had refused to obey; his mind had refused to listen - and he had allowed himself to be led away.
Trowa had brought him to the library, trying to engage him in small talk. Heero smirked a little, remembering how he had answered every question and comment with a wordless grunt. After a while Wufei had arrived, calling for Trowa and he had seized that brief opportunity to slip out. Before he knew it, he had arrived back to this corridor, facing this room.
He had wanted to enter but, as his hand started to turn the door handle, he faltered. He had retreated to where he now sat, sinking to the floor silently, wondering why he did not dare to enter that room. From the corner of his eye, he had seen Trowa and Wufei frantically searching for him as they rounded the corner. They saw him, and for a while Heero remembered wishing that they would disappear as he spied them turning and moving towards him. But somehow, something held them back and they did not approach, leaving him in peace.
Thank you...
A clicking sound caught his attention, riveting his gaze to the door.
Quatre.
The blonde boy slipped out of the room and gave him a tired smile before he slid down the wall to sit cross-legged beside the Japanese boy.
Heero affected not to notice him until a flash of dark-honey caught his eye. Scowling at the surprised boy, Heero grabbed at the lock of hair Quatre had been twiddling between his fingers. His dark eyebrows rose in question, eliciting a nervous grin from the blonde Arabian.
"Anou..Heero," Quatre sweatdropped. "Dr. Syaheed had to cut away some of Duo's hair. But he has so much! It's not even noticeable!" The boy reached to give his darkhaired friend a reassuring squeeze on the arm, but seeing the dark look on Heero's face, decided it would be best not to. "Really!" Quatre stressed, drawing his hand back.
Although Heero's hand clutched the lock of hair even more tightly, Quatre saw that the Wing pilot had visibly calmed down as he once more resumed hugging his knees, staring at nothing in particular. Sighing, the blonde leaned back against the wall, copying the Japanese boy's posture.
"Sometimes," the blonde resumed quietly after a few moments' silence. "Sometimes, it takes something big to make us realise how important the little things are."
Heero gave the blonde a sideways glance, unsure of what to make of the boy's comment. Quatre did not seem to be talking to anyone in particular and had merely appeared to be thinking aloud. The Japanese boy stayed silent, once again ignoring the blonde as he turned the loose chestnut strands between his fingers.
Realising that Heero would rather jump from the top floor of the building than admit his feelings, Quatre smiled. How like Heero, he thought as he got to his feet once more. Not that he meant to pry, but sometimes the dark-haired boy was too closed off for his own good. It wasn't healthy. Ah, who am I to talk, he chided himself.
"I'd better go see whether the doctor needs anything," he said as he brushed off imaginary specks of dust from the seat of his pants. "Do you want to come in, Heero?"
Heero looked up once more at the blond. A large part of him wanted to nod and say yes. But the tiny part that balked at the thought of seeing someone so lively suddenly lying so still won out as Heero heard himself squeeze out a tiny whisper: "No."
Quatre shrugged slightly and returned to the room, leaving the Wing pilot alone once more.
"Egao, Heero. Don't mourn what you haven't lost," the blonde reminded in passing, the comment earning another quizzical look from the darkhaired pilot. What was the boy trying to tell him, Heero wondered.
The soft strands fell from his fingers as he played absently with them. No, he hadn't lost. He had found. He hadn't been searching, but he had found something - someone -that was just as lost as he was. Perhaps more so. Heero sighed in frustration, picking off the strands of Duo's hair from his jeans and stuffing them into his pocket. It was frightening in a way - knowing that someone cared enough for him to risk all. It was even more frightening to realise that he cared back.
The soft creak of the turning door handle caught his attention once more, silencing his thoughts as he watched Quatre and the doctor exit the room.
"...As soon as he wakes up, inform me," the doctor was saying to the blonde. Quatre was nodding, his eyes earnest until he noticed Heero's presence.
"You're still here," the blonde observed with a slight smile.
Heero merely smirked back. The last half-hour or so had calmed him down somewhat and he had finally felt like himself once more - almost. Heero got up to his feet, looking at the taller man before him.
"How is he?" the Japanese boy asked. Thankfully, his voice was calm - his usual tone. "Is he alright?"
The doctor nodded. "Some stitches, nothing too serious. The scalp was a bit torn up. Luckily, the bullet missed the major blood vessels. But still, he lost quite a bit of blood, and probably won't be up for a while," the man smiled wryly. He'd heard those same questions oh-so-many times - uttered by so many different mouths - in the span of his career. And always with that same emotion behind them, no matter how well hidden. No matter how the questions were worded or phrased, he could always tell the questioner's relationship with the patient in question. This boy must be the patient's brother, he noted. Or a close friend. A very, very close friend.
"Is that all?" Heero asked again, hardly daring to believe and hardly able to contain the sudden burst of joy within him. But again, his voice was steady as he spoke, hardly reflective of the tumbling emotions within him. "Nothing else?"
"Well," the man hawed hesitantly. He paused, seeming to debate whether to divulge whatever information he had or to keep silent. Well, better to tell them everything, he decided. "He may have suffered a concussion. Usually, it won't be any problem, but we can never tell until he gains consciousness. We'll just have to be prepared." The man nodded slightly, adjusting the rim of his glasses.
"For what?" Heero asked.
"Aa," Quatre interrupted, "why don't we a-"
"Quatre," Heero growled softly as he glared at the other boy. Gulping, Quatre did the most prudent thing and shut up.
Turning his gaze once more to the taller man, Heero asked again. "Prepared for what?"
The doctor peered at him, his brow wrinkling slightly when he saw the darkhaired boy's hands unconsciously clench into tight fists by his sides. The boy's body was tense - his long experience with human physiology and psychology easily allowed him to deduce that much from the boy's body language - even though he appeared very calm, outwardly. But he could see the slight quiver of the lips; the slight narrowing of the eyes; the slight clench of the boy's facial muscles - so many little signs. The boy before him reminded him of a bow ready to loose an arrow. Clearing his throat softly, the man decided.
"Anything, really," the man said softly, all the while gazing into the intense dark blue eyes of the boy before him. "There may be disorientation, amnesia, brain trauma; but from my examination, the bullet merely grazed the skull. There shouldn't be anything permanent - but then again," the man smiled, seeing the tense shoulders visibly relax and the fire in the boy's eyes soften, "one can never be 100 percent sure with head injuries."
"I see," Heero sighed. The sight of so much blood splashed across Duo's face had led him to fear the worst. And the boy's stillness had amplified the effect. Inside, a small part of him smiled. Duo's as stubborn as you are, Heero, a small voice sighed. He wouldn't give up that easily. No, Heero acquiesced. That baka certainly wouldn't.
"Can I - ?" Heero began to ask, his head motioning slightly towards the bedroom door.
"Of course," the doctor replied. "Someone should be with him when he wakes up," the man smiled. His old face seemed to convey more than a smile, Heero noticed. Something in the doctor's eyes told him that the man understood. Something that he as yet found difficult to comprehend. Nodding slightly, Heero brushed past Quatre and the doctor to enter the room.
Relena tensed. She was back in her own bed, in her own room. Her head felt fuzzy, as though shrouded in layers of gauzy cobwebs. Her throat was dry, as were her lips. She gagged, a small sound escaping her throat, alerting the maid sitting by her bedside. Quickly that girl brought a tumbler of water to her lips, quenching the suddenly unbearable thirst.
"A..arigatou," she sighed, sinking once more into the softness of the pillows supporting her throbbing head. Slowly the cobwebs cleared. But as they disappeared, she realised that there was a part missing in her memory. She couldn't remember.... What? Why was someone screaming in her head?
Voices came from her right, and Relena turned her head towards them. A blonde boy, she squinted. I should know him...
Winner...
The name came tenuously in her mind. The boy was talking to an older man and another boy - Wufei, her memory reminded - stood beside them. That darkhaired boy nodded towards her as she gazed their way in silence, alerting the other two to her now-conscious state.
"Relena-san," the blonde asked softly. But there was a hard edge to that voice, the girl noticed. That was queer - he never sounded that way before. "How do you feel?" the boy continued, asking in that gentle yet stern voice.
"Strange," she breathed. " I feel strange."
The older man came up to her and started flicking a penlight torch, shining the tiny beam of light into her eyes, one after the other. A doctor? Why would I need a doctor, she wondered.
"Well," the doctor drawled, putting away the small flashlight. "You seem alright, young lady. Do you remember what happened?"
"What..what happened?" Relena asked, confused. Damn! Those cobwebs were starting again, climbing up the walls of her memory, fuzzing up her mind all over again. "What...happened..." She wrinkled her nose, trying to remember.
Oh yes!
"Hai!" she smiled, happy that her near-perfect memory still performed well even in this disturbed state. She was Relena Peacecraft, after all. Her memory was part of her trade - a necessary commodity in the ever-changing world of politics. How could she forget?
"I fainted," she nodded, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. "I was too happy, I suppose." Yes, she was happy. Who wouldn't be? She'd found her prince. She'd found Heero. "He said he loved me. He finally confessed, Quatre-san," she laughed, glancing at the blonde standing by her bed.
The blonde boy looked back her with a questioning glance, his smooth brow slightly furrowed. Why was he looking at her like that? Didn't he believe her? Who cares! What mattered was that Heero loved her. The girl clasped her hands together under her chin, shivering slightly at the ecstasy of it all. Heero loved her!
"I'm so happy. He finally said he loved me, after all this time - "
"Anou...Relena-san, you..you don't remember..?"
Relena frowned. Was this upstart Winner boy doubting her? Relena Peacecraft never lied. "I told you! He said he loved me! And I love him! Why won't you believe me? Why doesn't anyone believe me? Ask that friend of his! That longhaired boy he always hangs around with! He'll tell you the truth! Heero loves me! Me! Me! He loves me!" Somewhere deep inside, Relena realised she was screaming. Somewhere deep inside, a small voice was sobbing.
"Damn!" the doctor huffed, holding down the struggling girl. "Help me hold her down," he ordered, moving away as Quatre and Wufei came to take his place. "I'll give her a sedative to calm her down," he sighed, prepping a syringe.
"What's wrong with her?" Quatre asked, worry clearly resounding in his words. As much as he loathed the girl at the moment, he couldn't help worrying for the violently tossing girl on the bed, still screaming and pronouncing her love for his friend and his love for her. He still could not help feeling sorry for her, no matter what.
"Denial," Wufei stated flatly, his eyes never leaving the girl's empty blue eyes. "She's refusing to acknowledge the truth."
"Aa," the doctor nodded, injecting the sedative into one slim arm. " Probably a mental block, too, by the looks of it."
"Hai," the Chinese boy nodded. "Common post-traumatic occurrence. A result of shock, ne?"
The doctor grinned admiringly at the Chinese boy. "You're interested in medicine?" he asked, as the girl in the bed quieted down.
"Not really," Wufei smirked. "But it passes the time."
Heero loves me. He loves me. He's waiting for me. Wait for me Heero, wait for me...
Relena drifted off into a dreamless slumber, her words echoing softly in her head.
Heero sat at the foot of the bed, careful not to jostle the softly breathing boy tucked into it.
Duo seemed to be asleep, his face peaceful, overshadowed by damp bangs of chestnut hair. His head was slightly turned to one side and Heero could see some dark rusty spots of blood on the fair skin -probably missed when the wound was cleaned. A large piece of gauze dressing covered one temple and the side of his head, slightly obscuring one closed eye and held in place by a swathe of white bandages. One arm lay across the mattress, connected by a plastic tube to a small blood bag hanging from a stand by the headboard.
Heero traced the blood flowing from the bag to where it ended in a needle that disappeared into Duo's arm, a grim frown overshadowing his hard cobalt blue eyes. So close. The bullet had come so close.
Too close...
I'll kill her for this, Heero decided grimly. Peace be damned.
And yet that tiny, annoying voice of his conscience goaded still. Are you sure, Heero? It asked. Will you really? Could you? His gaze dropped to his tank top, noting the stiffness of the cloth. Duo's blood...
No.
No matter how much he wanted her life. No matter how much he wanted to choke her breath from her body, he knew he couldn't do it. Not while the Federation still needed her. But one day...one day ...
Duo stirred.
Heero sat up, immediately quashing thoughts of sweet retribution. The longhaired boy's closed eyelids fluttered, opening slowly. Quickly, Heero moved to the side of the bed Duo faced, settling into a chair someone had left there.
"Duo?" he whispered, peering into the confused violet eyes. Unconsciously, his hand reached to push away at some of the bangs that fell into those eyes. "Duo?" he called again, softly. Talk to me, baka!
Slowly a smile lit up the face before him. A smile that lifted the dark veil over his heart. A smile that brought a tentative one to his own lips.
"Heero." Duo's voice was low, and it sounded as though just uttering that one word was a massive effort for the boy. "Whatcha' doin' here? Don'tcha hafta blow up some base or sumpin'?" Duo croaked softly, the familiar teasing lighting up his half-closed eyes.
"Baka!" Heero smiled, relief shamelessly washing over his features. His hand groped for Duo's, gripping it tightly. "I'd still need you for back-up."
"Aa," the longhaired boy nodded, wincing as he did. "Oi my head hurts," he moaned, shifting slightly even as his grip tightened around Heero's fingers. "You didn't punch me or anythin', didja Heero?" he asked, shutting his eyes once more. The light hurt.
"No. It was Relena." His grim voice and the deadly bitterness in it prompted Duo's eyes to open again. "I'll kill her for this..." Heero whispered, almost to himself.
Duo looked at the shorthaired boy, holding the dark blue gaze steadily. "You know better than that," he said softly, his voice serious. "It's not worth it, Heero."
"She nearly killed you, damnit!" Heero hissed.
"But I'm alive, Heero," Duo sighed, his voice dropping to a breathy whisper. "And I don't want you traipsing around after some girl while I'm still breathing," he chuckled softly.
Duo closed his eyes, trying to sort through the jumbled images that seemed to carom madly in his brain. Vaguely, he remembered Relena and how she had so effortlessly tossed him into the air. Even as his head throbbed, Duo managed a small, cynical smirk. Duo Maxwell - bested by a girl. Heh! If it didn't hurt so much to laugh, he would.
Whatever happened next, he had no idea - but whatever it was, it had hurt. And from the dullness of the throbbing in his head, the barely felt pressure of Heero's touch and the strange light-headedness he felt, Duo guessed that whatever happened involved anaesthesia. Must've been serious, he huffed to himself. Turning slightly, he cracked open one eye, catching the sight of Heero's face. Why, if he didn't know better...
"Heh! Heero," Duo chuckled, trying to sound like he normally did but failing dismally. "Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?" The question ended in a small cough, miserably reminding him that his throat was parched.
"I nearly lost you," Heero said softly, whispering into Duo's fingers that he held to his lips, gripped loosely between his hands.
Duo grinned, a mere shadow of his usual ones, but a grin nonetheless. "You didn't think I'd just up and leave you? Just like that?" he asked quietly, laughter dancing in violet eyes. "Heh. You won't get rid of me that easily, Heero Yuy."
Duo sighed, settling back into the pillow when Heero didn't respond. It would take more - much more - than one Relena Peacecraft to ever make him leave this quiet companion so unlike himself, and yet who made him feel so complete. Ai shiteiru, Heero, he said softly to himself. Ai shiteiru...
"Duo?" Heero frowned, seeing the sudden melancholy settling into Duo's eyes.
"Aa?"
"What's wrong? Are you hurting?"
Duo almost grinned at the worry so apparent in the Japanese boy's voice. He'd never seen him so transparent before. It was almost...endearing.
"No," he lied - well, almost lied. It didn't hurt too much. "I was just thinking..."
"About what?" Heero asked softly, placing Duo's hand - still firmly gripped in his - once more on the mattress.
Duo chuckled. "Do you really want to know?" he asked, glancing at Heero's solemn face.
"Hmm," Heero nodded.
"I was thinking ...about life," Duo sighed, the mirth in his voice dissolving into an uncharacteristic sadness. "And death," he continued, his voice dropping to a choked whisper.
Duo paused for a few moments, his normally laughing eyes serious as he turned to the quiet Wing pilot.
"Stay with me, Heero?" he asked, a slight hesitancy catching the already weakened voice. "If I say I love you, will you stay?"
"Duo no baka. You don't have to ask," the Japanese boy whispered, wiping away a stray tear that had suddenly found its way out of one violet eye. "You don't ever have to ask."
"You promise?" the longhaired boy asked in a small voice.
"I swear," Heero replied softly, reaching out and pulling the American boy's unresisting body closer to the edge of the bed, careful not to jar the tubing attached to Duo's forearm.
Duo smiled, releasing a soft sigh of - relief? - as his eyelids fluttered shut once more. "Ne, Heero, I'm tired. Wake me up for breakfast, eh?"
"Hai," Heero smiled, laying his head on Duo's blanket-covered chest, revelling in the steady beating of his lover's heart.
"So the doctor said that she's okay?" Trowa asked, walking silently beside the blonde Arabian.
"Hai," Quatre nodded. "But she seems to be suffering from some memory block. She doesn't seem to remember anything about what happened," the boy shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"He suggested we send her home where her own doctors can care for her," Quatre continued as they walked up the stairs. "She'll probably need some psychiatric help, or counselling," he added as an afterthought.
"Hmm," Trowa nodded absently. "So we'll never know what happened."
"We could ask Heero," Quatre volunteered. "Or Duo..."
Trowa threw an annoyed glance at the blonde.
"Eheh! When he's up and about, of course," Quatre chuckled nervously.
They reached Heero's room in silence. Trowa noted the empty corridor with a raised eyebrow, glancing briefly at Quatre.
"He's probably still inside," the blonde replied, opening the door slowly.
The room was dark, the only light coming from one bedside lamp turned down to its lowest setting. Quatre poked his head into the room and started in surprise at what he saw. Curious, Trowa poked his head in beside Quatre's - and smiled slightly when he saw what the blonde had seen.
"Come on," he whispered to the blonde boy who had a silly grin plastered on his face, pulling the smaller boy away. "Let's leave them alone."
"Aa," Quatre nodded, still grinning as he closed the door.
[Don't understand what's going on
Woke up this morning all the hurt was gone
This is a new beginning
I'm back in the land of the living]
Heero turned slightly, catching a soft sound. Instinctively, his grip tightened around the limp fingers curled around his palm. But Duo's peacefully sleeping face greeted his eyes, and Duo's heartbeat thrummed strongly in his ears. A corner of Heero's mouth curved in a lazy half-smile. Reassured, the Japanese boy closed his eyes once more, drawing the longhaired boy's body closer within the curve of his arm.
"I'm staying, Duo," he mumbled as he dozed off once more. "Forever."
And as he drifted to sleep, he felt strong, slender fingers gripping his in agreement.
OWARI
Author's notes:
To all the saps among you - yup, I think this *is* the last chapter
in the series. Those who're dying to see Relena get more flak (Hey! I don't
hate her that much!), or a certain scene between two certain
pilots (Eeee! *shaky knees*)....Well, maybe next time. ^_^
Or... maybe someone else would like to try writing it, ne? *sappy grin*
Shirin
Please send comments to: shirini@pc.jaring.my