Disclaimers: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing nor it's characters. Merely borrowing them for a little torture.

Warnings: Shounen-ai (because I suck at yaoi) , mildly blasphemous in terms of my depiction of heaven. Not a death fic… ish. Usual 1x2, 3x4, and with 5 hanging in the wind. The poor darling.

Notes: This was entered into the Hatsukoi fic contest and betaed by the extremely talented Keiran-sama!

Prologue: It all starts from here

It was white.

That was the first thing Duo Maxwell noticed when he woke up. He sat up in bed, confused. He waited for the massive headache to hit but was surprised when he felt no pain. That was odd. Usually the feeling of confusion came at the heels of a hangover. Did he and Heero party all night again? Hmm… a bit of amnesia there.

He looked around the room, not really concerned that it was unfamiliar. He and Heero had done countless stupid things that involved waking up in places that no sane person would. He once woke in a general uniform while Heero was wearing a French Maid costume. How had that happened, the two of them didn't really know, but Quatre had some pretty interesting footage, that to this day was used as blackmail material against them.

Quatre, yup, this must be one of the gazillion rooms he had. He must have wandered there in his drunken state. So where was Heero? Drunks of a feather flocked together and when he was in an inebriated state, his Perfect Soldier was usually sticking to him like glue.

God, he made them sound like they were alcoholics.

Far from it actually, but once a month, Quatre, using the tape, his big doe eyes and Trowa's one glaring green one, forced them all into a family dinner. These dinners usually involved teasing the hell out of Wu Fei, trying to remember the names of Quatre's many sisters – they had been at it for the last five years and were still unsuccessful – and trying to restyle Trowa's hair at the risk of death. As all 21 year olds do, tossing back a few cups wasn't uncommon, except, for some reason, Duo had a really low tolerance to alcohol and surprising enough, so did Heero.

Duo had laughed at first. The Perfect Soldier, can set his own bones, can fight off anaesthetic but can't stomach one beer. Then Duo passed out at Heero's feet.

He got up from the big fluffy bed and winced at the choice of bedding. White, completely white. With a horrified gasp, he noticed that he was also wearing white. He was clad in white pants and a loose white shirt. Who took away his blacks? Worst yet, did Wu Fei play a prank on him and bleached all his dark clothes white?

He let out an angry growl. There would be hell to pay. He needed to find Wu Fei. He looked around and gasped. There was no door! Alright, first find the damn door, then find Wu Fei. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him something wasn't right. Even a room in Quatre's mansion would have a door. Was he captured? Was there an upsurge of terrorist activities again? Was he actually in a mission but had selective amnesia?

"So, you have finally awaken," a soft masculine voice came from behind him.

Duo jumped and turned around, bracing himself for a fight. He stuttered to a stop. The person standing behind him was possibly the most beautiful person he had ever seen, despite being a man. He had shoulder length sandy blond hair and a pair of clear blue eyes. He had one of those well sculpted bodies, that made Duo's mouth dry, and the sexiest smile this side of the hemisphere. Damn if there wasn't a dimple as well. His features were… familiar but they were arranged in a fashion that was pleasing as well as attractive.

"Have I been captured?" Duo stammered. "What do you want? Who… who are you?"

The man grinned. "No, nothing and Solo. In that order."

"So… SOLO?" Duo screamed, his eyes bugging out. "Bu… but… but… you're dead!"

Solo chuckled. "Well, so are you, little brother."

XXxxXX

They were gathered there to mourn the passing of a good person. Some would say he was a great man but most knew him as a perpetual comedian, though he was capable of serious moments. The turn out was even more amazing that anyone could imagine, least of all the four friends once closest to him. There were at least 200 people gathered at the graveyard that morning and another 100 or so phone calls from friends and colleagues away from town and unable to make it.

Une, Noin, Zechs, Hilde, Relena, Dorothy, they were all there, keeping a distance from the grieving four, respecting their need to mourn in peace.

Every one of those hundred phone calls was a stab into the heart of Heero Yuy, the deceased's lover. His three other friends gathered around him in a protective huddle, warding away any potential condolence giver. This had dual purpose, to shield Heero from further pain and to prevent a nasty disembowelment of an innocent. With Heero's mood as such, it was hard to predict what he would do.

Chang Wu Fei, Heero's partner in the Preventors, shook his head at the strained expression on his friend's face, knowing the guilt that would be eating at him. It was an accident, albeit a very unfortunate one but an accident all the same.

The hardest thing Trowa Barton had to witness was the lowering of the coffin into the ground. He tightened his grasp on Heero's arm and noticed his lover, Quatre Winner and Wu Fei doing the same. It wouldn't have been surprising to anyone, if Heero jumped in after it.

Quatre watched as the group dispersed, not a dry eye in the crowd – except for Heero. He hasn't shed a tear since the time the doctor walked out of the operating theatre and told them he had done his best.

Soon it was just the four of them standing there, while they filled the hole in the ground with earth. Heero's jaw worked spasmodically as he watched these strangers bury the love of his life. He stared at the gravestone, one that he carved himself.

Duo Maxwell

Friend, Lover, Partner, Baka

You will be eternally missed

Wait for me

He knew the 'wait for me' at the end gave everyone a healthy dose of worry, which was why he was now forced to live with Quatre and Mother Hen Trowa. No one knew that the silent Heavyarms pilot would have made such a good mother.

"Heero…" Quatre began

Heero lifted his hand to cut off any conversation. "Leave me here alone."

"But…" Quatre was cut off by a hand on his shoulder. He stared at Wu Fei who shook his head silently. Defeated, the blond followed the other two to a distance away, but close enough to step in if Heero suddenly developed suicidal tendencies; suddenly decided to carry out his suicidal tendencies.

"It's not fair," Trowa said, punching an unoffending tree. "It's not fair at all! He was only 21!"

Quatre hugged his distraught boyfriend while Wu Fei stared moodily at the dejected form of Heero.

"He saved a life even as he lost his own," Wu Fei said, quietly.

The other two nodded sombrely, remembering what had happened. The doctor had come out of the operating theatre, his face grim and announcing that Duo Maxwell was no more. The doctor had suggested for Duo to donate his heart to a young man with heart failure. Apparently, Duo was brain dead and if he had an organ donor card, he would have been harvested like fields of grain. The others weren't sure what Heero was thinking when he allowed Duo's heart to be donated but they kept their silence.

Heero was oblivious to the fact that his friends were behind him. He was oblivious to everything but the one bright spot in his life now dimmed. His life had never seemed so bleak and his future so barren. The plans they made were now for naught.

And it was his fault.

With a soft choked sob, he fell to his knees. "I'm sorry, Duo… I am so sorry. It's my fault, I did this, I killed you."

Tbc…