Disclaimer: Don't own just borrowing.
Pairings: HeeroxDuo
Genre: tragedy, angst, romance
Story: Sometimes it's better not to remember.
Author's Note: So here is a one shot as promised on my birthday. It's sad not going to lie to you every time I read it I sort of get choked up and I was the one who wrote it. I do like it though and I hope what I was trying to do comes across. There is a bit of jumping, anyway do enjoy and I will try to update some of my other stories as soon as possible.
What Was
The bullets caught him by surprise.
Blue eyes widened as he felt the sudden metallic bite in his shoulder, followed closely by one in his thigh. The impact sending him to his knees in a dazed haze of pain. Blinking stupidly he looked around searching for the others. He had been walking point…now he knelt alone in the centre of this desolate stretch of land.
The rattle of gunfire again, more hollow thumps hitting his Kevlar snapping ribs, bruising organs. Another shot near to his neck, the other in his shoulder. He fell backwards gasping as blood bubbled out between now slack lips. Eyes wide, unblinking, stared into the blazing overhead sun.
He woke with a gasp. Panting he swiped at sweat and tears running from his face. Feeling his stomach churn and clench wondering if he was going to be sick. He had dreamed about it again, dreamed of that day. Questing fingers danced across scarred forearms, up to his shoulders feeling the puckered scar tissue. He'd been shot ten times that day. Five had hit his body armor, five had hit him. Two where still in his body, one too close to his spine, the other lodged somewhere in his shoulder and bone.
A small grunt from nearby drew his eyes, to the figure laying beside him in the warm bed. Long limbs eating up much of the space but he didn't mind. The body was hard, toned, well tanned. He watched the other for long moments mind blank, his old scars throbbing as if he'd just been shot. A mumble; the other shifted, sleepy eyes blinking slowly open.
"Heero?" he whispered, frowning the other rubbed at half closed eye. "Sorry," the man still sitting up in the large comfortable bed whispered, rolling tense shoulders. He hurt, but the other…the other made it all better. "Bad dream?" the sleeper asked, an impossibly long arm reaching out to the sitting man. Feeling clammy skin, he withdrew a second before reaching again tugging Heero down to press against him.
Heero relishing the feeling the long lean body pressed against him. They where both naked, heated skin touching. "Sleep," the tall man said, pressing soft kisses to his neck, his shoulder…pressing sweet lips to shiny pink scar tissue. Heero moaned, gasping and arching back into him. Blissful as big hands trailed across his body, moving lower.
"Lieutenant Yuy, on my six!" the man fell in behind his CO, stone faced and solemn, as was his way. "New recruits Yuy, some fresh from boot a couple others just transferred in from other branches." Heero raised a brow, not commenting.
The two walked confidently across the hectic base camp. Wind kicking up sand and dirt, sun beating down from the inhospitable sky this barren country was no picnic. This whole damn country was one big pain in the ass, and Heero had been here for longer then he cared to admit. Boots crunching, men yelling, choppers whipping and whining as people scurried around blind to all but their immediate orders. They halted before a motley group, rucksacks at their feet. Combats still fresh, crisp, Heero shifted almost self consciously in his dirty, torn, uniform.
Heero as dispassionate as ever roved an eye over fresh faced recruits, bright eyed and eager for combat. That would change though. He paused when light blues landed on one tall, long limbed man. He was wearing aviators and what looked like a flight suit, the arms pulled down and tied about his waist. What caught his attention however was his composure, looking calm and unhurried in the midst of this chaos. Sharp blue eyes behind the dark frame of his Oakley's picked out the wings on his uniform, he was from the Air Force. What was he doing here? Heero turned his attention back to the CO listening intently as they sounding off, especially the Air Force man. "Maxwell, Duo." He said voice deep and pleasant. Heero tried to ignore the shiver that chased down his spine.
"Hello? Baby you with me?" Long finger snapped before hazy blue eyes, Heero blinked shaking shaggy hair frowning. What had he been thinking of? "Yes," he said softly offering a small half grin to the other man. Duo frowned, "You ok?" Heero nodded trying to look like he meant it. Truth be told he wasn't feeling all that well.
"Well ok," he turned back to stove, Heero tracking his every move. He had been thinking of meeting Duo. That was it wasn't it? Blue eyes skimmed the long honey brown hair thrown up haphazard in a bun. He was wearing nothing more then a pair of tight boxer briefs. Hugging his muscular calves, he was tall…Duo was very tall. Six five, to Heero's own six foot. He was wide, muscular, and handsome. Contrasting with Heero's own burly over muscled body. Compact and jacked, he reached up touching a scar fingers circling the scarred hole.
"I was wondering what you wanted to do for you're birthday Friday?" Duo was asking, his back to the man seated at the table. Heero shrugged, before remembering Duo could not see him. "Spend time with you," he spoke softly, thrilled with the deep chuckle from the other man. "You old romantic, maybe go out for dinner, few drinks?" He turned then serving the bacon and eggs onto two plates, Heero watched intently as he carried the plates across the black and white tiled floor. The early morning light was bright and cheerful in their small kitchen. Cool breeze billowed the white curtains, caressing Heero's heated skin.
He smiled as Duo placed the food before him, looking up into the strong clean shaven face. Blinking rapidly as Duo seemed to split into two, a mirror image of him appearing. One that was scruffy, his helmet unbuckled, goggles hanging from his neck. That dirty, mud smeared face, somehow terrified him more then he could believe.
A sudden thought bubbled to the surface of his mind, his throat giving voice to it before he could reconsider, "You're too tall to be a pilot…" Heero spoke softly, focusing on violet eyes, trying to make Duo return to himself. One Duo smiled, the other frowned confused eyes cold and distant. He struggled to focus on the other, his Duo. Too scared to acknowledge the other.
"You're too tall to be a pilot," he blurted out, amazed at saying even that much. Duo Maxwell had been part of their unit for almost six months. He'd been on Heero's mind since the day he had first laid eyes on him. They had never spoken, never had cause too. Today however Heero had cause. He needed to hear what the other had seen on patrol. Now he had managed to come out with that gem of conversation. Heero wanted to kick himself.
"So they told me, Lieutenant," he spoke slowly, as inoffensively as possible all the while looking at Heero as if he was some stupid child. Heero felt as such. He nodded waiting for the report before dismissing Duo until the morning. He watched the taller man walk away, slowly tired. Heero wanted to stop him, call out to him, and offer to look after him tonight. He bit his tongue then turning. He had his own mission to complete.
Heero sat under the umbrella, feeling the warm heat on his skin. Almost too warm. Eyes hidden behind dark glasses he looked down as a large callused hand took his, moving from the hands, across the small wrought iron table to his lover. "You're not with me," Duo teased lightly, and Heero shook his head. "I'm sorry," he spoke softly under the din off the pub patio. They where out for lunch today, enjoying the beautiful summer's day.
A sudden lance of pain arched across his back, a not uncommon experience with that slug sitting by his spine. He made no sound but squeezed the hand he held. Duo frowned then, "Heero what is it?" the shorter man shook his head slowly smiling. "I love you," he said softly. Leaning across he ignored his screaming back, kissing the soft mouth long and leisurely. Parting for air he glanced over his boyfriends shoulder catching sight of a shock of blond hair, it was a familiar figure. He frowned moving to hug Duo tightly, "Heero?" he laughed returning the squeeze, but Heero was looking at the still staring figure. How did he know him.
"You don't say much do you Lieutenant?" The soft deep voice carried in the still cool night. Heero surprised turned to his companion, not saying a word. "It's not to bad," Duo said with a small smile. Heero swallowed thickly his heart wanting to pump out of his chest. They sat in a thick silence, Heero working his jaw. Wanting to blurt out something, anything, the shell that exploded nearby, stalled any conversation.
Rain. Heero had always liked the rain. There was something so cleansing about it so right. He hurt tonight. Like every night. It was getting harder to hide from him, from the pain. It was teeming down now, poring soaking the small balcony off their bedroom. Their, bedroom. How he had waited so long for that. Dark blue eyes looked to the still form on the bed before stepping out into the night.
The water pelted his skin soaking his naked body, it felt refreshing cool and clean. He looked upwards eyes sliding closed as he tried to push the pain away, ignoring the throbbing and hurt. Breathing deep he exhaled, starting when warm hands touched cool flesh; raising goose bumps. Duo said nothing; Heero said nothing. He felt the large body behind him, pressing close, as naked as himself. Big arms wrapping around him pulling him close. Hot lips, cold skin. Heero turned in the embrace. Wrapping his own scarred appendages around him, feeling whatever it was pull and bind, ignoring the feeling instead focusing on this.
Chocolate hair plastered to his skull he kissed his lover, passionate and intense. Kissed him as if it where their last. As the cold rain soaked them, their bodies heated up. "Take me to bed…" Heero said feeling suddenly light headed and confused. Duo nodded, "Good you'll catch your death out here."
"How can you even stand to be around him?" The voice was a mixture of disgust and confusion. Heero halted, standing on the other side of the tent hidden from the view of the others. Just returning from his patrol, he had caught his name; making him hesitate. "I don't mind him," the other replied and he recognized it as Duo. "He watches you like all the time," the original voice returned. "Fucking faggot," another spat, the others laughed uproariously. Heero wanted too cringe, he had thought no one had noticed.
"Yeah Lieutenant Yuy would probably love to get a hold of your cock Maxwell!" he spoke again, and Heero could see the shadow of a man making obscene gestures. Duo snorted then, "Maybe, but I'm no homo." The others laughed clapping him on the back and Heero heart breaking backed away from the tent, away from the others. Into the forgiving blackness of night.
"What would you like for your birthday?" Duo held his hand as they walked unhurried through the mall. The smaller man shrugging, holding the hand as if it where a life line. "Come on baby, you must want something? Anything?" He spoke softly as they passed by yet another clothing store. Heero said nothing eyes darting trying not to look at his lover too close, trying not to seem too stiff and sore. It was getting worse, the pain, a biting gnawing rat at the back of his mind.
They where shopping for his birthday tomorrow. It was strange to think he would be twenty-five. He felt so much older then that. Hand in hand they explored books, clothing, movies. Before Duo was leading him into a jewelry shop. Pointing to the case of watches nice ones. The long haired man spoke to a women behind the counter. Heero paused before the glass case. One particular piece catching his eye, it was beautiful, masculine, expensive. It also looked familiar somehow. He frowned the pain flared, his head was feeling hot, and he felt like he was trying to remember something. Frantic blue eyes widened as the watch suddenly broke, the glass face cracking with a small sound, the band suddenly warped and dented. The links seeming to snap and buckle. A broken, old watch in a case full of beautiful things.
He moaned then low in his throat, sweat beading his brow. Something was churning and bubbling in his mind, wanting to escape "No…" he whispered, the pain screaming in his back. "No," he looked upwards then Duo only steps away, might as well have been miles. He was turning to him looking worried; scared. Scared as Heero felt. Duo was splitting too. Duo in the tight, black t-shirt, comfortable faded jeans broke apart, just as the watch. His doppelganger was dirty, wide eyed and frightened, his combats smeared red. "Heero!" they both yelled thick and distant.
Time was slow, surreal, Heero was moving just as slow. He turned then compelled to. The blonde again. So familiar; so strange. He wasn't wearing civilian clothing he was dressed in combats. Face grim, he said nothing, as he stood dirty and unmoving in the clean mall. People not noticing him, unseeing, but his hands something was wrong with his hands. He closed his eyes trying to clear the pain from his head, the confusion, the fear.
Hoping it was better. The familiar watch whole and untouched, the blonde man gone, and his lover smiling holding his hand. He reopened his eyes.
Heero rarely came to the marketplace. It smelled of animals, unwashed bodies, and slowly rotting food. It was too busy, too chaotic; he hated it. Today he had business here, something he wanted. Moving with an unnatural grace he stepped up inside the shop. Impassive as the storekeeper eager to help came over. "You looking something good?" He asked in broken English gesturing to the overly crammed store. Heero nodded brushing past the man towards a small selection of jewelry. The owner hurrying to show off his expensive pieces, wanting to make a profit off the grunt. Yet all the while worried, sometimes these soldiers where not nice. Taking instead of buying.
Heero ignored the prattle of pigeon English instead inspecting every piece he had. Necklaces, bracelets, earrings, all no good. He was about to turn and leave when he caught sight of a watch. A nice watch. He pointed to it silently the man hurrying to take it out, "New, just get." He spoke rapidly sweating now, and Heero figures he knew why. No doubt it had bee looted from a poor solider. He held the watch feeling it's weight, looking at the quality. "How much?"
He was back out in the sunshine moments later, watch tucked away safely in an inner pocket. Heero was hurrying out of the market place.
He opened sore eyes; they felt heavy, gritty, his back, leg, shoulders, ached. He could barely move now. He felt sick. Hot and sticky. Heero licked dry lips thinking he would do anything to make this pain stop to get this to all go away. He turned his head slowly spotting Duo, he sat nearby clutching his hand. Kissing the scarred digits, he looked worried. "You're going to be ok…" he was saying from somewhere distant and Heero tried to smile. Tried to tell him it was a simple flu. That was all.
He turned his sore neck back again, it hurt less when he looked at nothing. He was home again, in his bedroom. Their bedroom. Safe. Accept they weren't alone; he was there. That man again. "No!" Heero yelled feeling his vocal cords strain with the scream of it. "Go away!" The figure didn't not move, the blonde looked at him, lying motionless on the bed. "Heero," he called. "Heero it's time…." Shaggy hair shook, "No!" he screamed again trying to warn Duo, trying to get away from this blonde man with the hands.
He was watching him again. He knew he shouldn't be. He was supposed to be reporting back to his CO; the perfect little solider. He wasn't though; he was here. Watching him. Duo.
Duo was showering with some of the men from the other unit. They had just obtained the small portable showers out here on this posting and seven of the men just waking where taking advantage of the new luxury. The tall figure peeled out his shirt yelling and pointing to one of the men. Heero bit his lip.
Duo was perfect, he had already known that catching the odd glimpse of him here and there. Unable to look for too long, the men who had labeled him queer, gay, and a faggot. He hadn't cared, but their jeers had made Duo uncomfortable. Now however he could easily look his fill. Alone out here watching, the bunch and curve of tanned brown muscle across his back. The ripple of his six pack, the lines that lead to slender hips creating that V he so much loved.
From where he watched he was unable to see the small dark treasure trail leading down, but he knew it was there. He wanted to run his tongue over it lick it. Bury his nose in it. Large hands settled on the waistband then, Heero's breathing sped up there was no room in the showers the others naked where waiting their turn. Duo about to join them. He pulled down his pants quickly dog tags catching the light, he straightened then, naked and unashamed of his body. Heero thought he had every right to be unashamed, he was beautiful. Heero shifted in his hiding spot dirty combats suddenly too tight.
He was stretching now, in the sun, golden skin playing, taunting the secret observer. He was laughing and joking with the others; popular. Heero moved again the motion creating delicious friction. "Duo," he mumbled, he was bending, now straightening unable to be still. He could see his penis, limp but still and impressive length at rest. It swayed drawing his eyes, focusing on it. His dirty hand moved down his body eyes never leaving the figure, pants where snapped open quickly his thick erection springing free. He wasn't wearing underwear having lost his last pair. He gripped it roughly, jerking hard. Panting softly in the now setting desert sun. Watching, always watching.
He woke with a jerk, sweaty, aroused. He was sore, tight, but not as sick as he was eailier things where lighter better. He was in their bed confused, eyes rolling to the clock. It was past midnight; today was his birthday. He turned feeling his erection, throbbing and painful he'd been dreaming hadn't he…remembering?
"Feeling ok?" A soft voice came from the darkness on his left, strong hands reaching for him. Pulling his tired, aching body close. He gasped pulled against the solid body. A deep throaty chuckle, followed by hands ghosting over Heero's too bulky form. He surely felt how hard he was, how much Heero needed him. "Duo," he pleaded, the other needing no prompting. He pulled Heero further into him, his muscular ass pressed into Duo's own awakening erection. Gasping, moaning, rolling hips.
Duo was biting, kissing, working him pushing him closer to an edge he was standing on the other side of. "Duo, Duo, Duo…" he chanted, begging, thick fingers where working his tight ring of muscles, the other hand was working his erection. Heero didn't want gentle, didn't want love making. Dirty. Hard. Like that day… he pushed back Duo understanding, steadying him, pulling him back as he pushed forward.
Heero gave a silent cry as Duo slid forward, panting, clutching at the sheets. His back and legs screaming. His scars throbbed but not as much as Duo inside hom. Deep inside him. Two big arms grabbed him up, bumping and jostling deliciously, pulling him between pleasure and pain. Duo was moving him, sitting up, Heero facing away from him impaled on his lap. He leaned forward arms shaking, straining, as Duo began thrusting. Quick, hard, Heero harshly breathing. A big hand twisted in his hair yanking it back. Heero's mouth opened in an 'O' of pained pleasure.
Duo was grunting behind him, thrusting deeply, making sure Heero felt every quiver, every jerk. Callused hands moved to his neck then clamping around it, Heero gasped before his air was cut off, eyes rolling white. Duo pumped harder, faster, and Heero was cumming hard. Without a single touch, pearly fluid was spilling from him soaking the tousled bed. Bright lights danced behind his eyes, things where blacking out. Duo pumped him once more before also spilling deep inside.
Released Heero fell forward gasping, Duo was there gathering him close. "Was I too rough?" he mumbled kissing him then, biting, nipping, in no hurry to withdraw. Heero shook his head, the pain suddenly back. Screaming at him, wanting to be acknowledged. He wasn't going to, he was going to fight. Duo was lying back down, manipulating Heero's stocky body like it was nothing. They where pressed together then, Duo slipping out, softening, Heero feeling the warm wetness seeping from him. Reminding him…
"Happy birthday baby," Duo was sleepy again violet eyes growing heavy. Heero looked at him, watched him…like he always had. A fresh wave of agony crossed him, and he gasped arching back. "No," he mumbled, his head a jumble of images and flashes, the watch, the blonde, the bullets. He was remembering things. Blue eyes opened wide, tears streaming silent and heavy.
He was remembering things that he needed to keep buried. Temples wet, cheeks hot flushed, he turned unsurprised when he saw that man again. That man in dirty combats, his face punched, drawn, and tonight they where sad. Darkness dancing across him. Heero didn't know what he wanted, but he knew that look of sadness was for him.
"Stop it!" he hissed advancing on the sitting figure, squatting until he was eye level with the other man. "You stop watching me. It's sick, perverted. I'm not like that." Normally smiling face grim, serious. Solemn blue eyes watched him, making no move. Waiting for the blow, the punch, the kick. Duo had a right too. He was right, Heero was sick, perverted…but it didn't matter. It would change nothing.
Violet eyes bored into deep blue. Around them people buzzed and moved. Breaking down the camp, they would be moving out soon heading for god only knew where. Now though none of that mattered, all that mattered was this tall man crouched before him, locked together eye to eye. Heero stared conscious of the weight of the watch in his pocket, the watch he never wore.
A flicker of something behind those beautiful violet eyes. Understanding? Shame? Guilt? Fear? It was gone in a heartbeat replaced by that cold shuttered, angry gaze. "Stop watching me," he grunted before standing, turning, and leaving. Heero watched him go, bruised and battered face unreadable. He had understood. Understood what Duo was saying, all the same it didn't matter. It didn't matter because he loved him. Loved him more then anything. Nothing would change that.
"How's your meal?" Duo spoke softly, Heero smiled at him across the candle lit table. It was soft, unreadable. Eyes traveling around the expensive quite place, a romantic place. Heero held his lovers hand across the table tightly. Something was off tonight, not right. Heero didn't want to probe to deeply with that. Feeling if he pushed to hard his whole world was going to fall down around him. "Fine," he tried to smile.
They ate, touched, spoke in low tones. Heero's vision and thoughts hazy as if far away. The restaurant seemed to be getting brighter his eyes hurt, blinking he looked to his lover. Duo, was smiling widely at him. "I got you a gift," he pushed the box across the table. Plain black with a red bow. "Go ahead love, take it." Trembling hands reached out, worn hands, callused. He pulled open the box suddenly terrified what he was about to find inside.
A watch. "No," he mumbled, his heart thudding harder. It was his watch. The watch he had bought… "No," he looked up at Duo. Beyond him, the blonde. The blonde standing in the middle of this beautiful restaurant, dirty, drawn, he was speaking. Heero could not here. The building seemed to shake then. Wild eyes rolled, colour and warmth drained from him his shoulder suddenly screamed. He grabbed it, feeling wet warmth. Drawing his fingers away it was blood.
"Duo," he pleaded, jittering, his vision splitting Duo sitting in a white dress shirt, deep contrast to tan skinned. Duo in dirty combats smeared with a dark brown something looking worried. The blonde drew closer. Heero's shoulder screamed then, old scars erupted blood pouring from the bullet wounds. Soaking his dress shirt, his pressed pants…no…
The blonde, he looked to the blonde pleading, desperate. He knew him very well. He was Quatre. His white armband proclaimed him a medic, a medic for Heero's unit. Suddenly tears where running from wide blue eyes now red rimmed, bloodshot. "Duo!" he cried blood suddenly spilling between his lips splattering the white tablecloth. That wasn't right either. Not a tablecloth, metal.
Lighter, brighter, distant…he fumbled for the watch. Not his Duo's, he had bought it for him. The medic, Quatre was beside him now, Heero turning slowly to look at him, his hands…his hands…Heero finally realized what was wrong with them. They where red with blood. His blood.
"Oh God…" he moaned looking to Duo, "I never left…" he whispered. Crying in earnest now. The illusion seemed to shatter then. "I'm still there…"
"I'm still here…" he mumbled blood boiling forth again. The chopper hummed and rumbled, screaming across the sky. "Is he going to be ok?" Heero mumbled and thrashed as Duo yelled over the whirl of blades. Quatre said nothing, but gave him a look that spoke volumes. "Oh God," He mumbled hand slicked with blood slipping as he renewed his hold on the others hand. The floor of the copter was coated. He and Quatre where coated.
It had been minutes since he'd been shot. Minutes that had seemed like days. Duo's adrenaline was pumping, his heart hammering. "No!" Heero yelled suddenly violently a hand lashing out grabbing Duo's combats pulling him close. "Heero, you're hurt," he yelled at the man unsure why. Whether he was trying to be heard over the sound of their transportation, or because the man was slowly bleeding to death all over his boots.
Wide frantic blue eyes started at him, wanting him to understand, Duo was more then confused. The fingers clutching at his shirt where tight, strong, Duo watched as his other red hand reached inside his stained combats. Withdrawing a something metallic. Trembling fingers pressed it to Duo's hand, "For you." He spoke softly wheezing, his voice forcing blood out the hole in his neck. A hole Quatre was valiantly trying to pinch close to stop the spray of blood. An arterial wound that had him bleeding out slowly. Too slowly.
Duo numbly accepted the metal object unable to see what exactly it was in the darkness. The hand released him then, a soft smile pulling normally featureless face. Heero began to shudder and jerk. Gasping and wheezing, "Duo," he moaned, the big man gripping his hand tightly unable, or unsure what to say. Quatre and Duo held grimly on. All in vain. With one last shuddering jerk he fell still exhaling the long and low. His twitching stopped, and the hand that had held tightly to his releasing then.
Duo held onto it tightly, sudden tears falling from wide violet eyes. Dripping onto the blood slicked hands. "Heero," he murmured, Quatre cursed roundly releasing the neck and wiping a forearm across his forehead his blond hair drenched in sweat. "Fucking lost him!" he yelled at Duo before turning to let the pilots know the emergency was over. They where returning a body.
Duo was staring into wide blue eyes, so blue. The face was blood spattered and amazingly chalk white despite the dark tan. He stared into those eyes until they landed. The team hurrying out to collect the body. No, Heero. They where forced to pry Duo's hand off, numb he stood outside the now silent chopper. Staring stupidly into the dark. What had happened?
Unsure how long he stood there he blinked sluggishly down at his hand he was holding something. Something from Heero. He brought it closer to his face. It was a watch, a nice watch. Covered in blood and the faceplate was cracked, the band dented no doubt from a round. Heero had said it was from him. He curled a big fist around it glancing in the direction they had taken him. The sun was beginning its slow ride across the sky.
"Come on Maxwell, haul ass we got places to be." The CO yelled at the rather subdued solider. A once jovial, devil-may-care man had changed since that night long ago. Quite, contemplative; more often then not woolgathering.
The large solider stood slowly, shrugging into his pack. Strong tanned forearms that had held Heero enthralled once upon a time, bent and flexed. He gazed up into the beating sun, wiping sweat from shadowed eyes. The light caught a silver flash on his wrist. He glanced down at the dented, broken watch. A watch that had never worked; a heady mix of emotions rolling in his mind. Anger, sadness, shame, guilt…and maybe something deeper. Something stronger that had never been allowed to grow. Mercilessly tramped down by himself, and now it was too late.
He half smiled, before righting his helmet and trapping off. "Maybe," he muttered unconsciously laying his other hand on top of the watch. "Someday…" he worried it a little longer before moving on.
End.
