Notes: I am, indeed, alive. I apologize for my prolonged absence. I'd like to say it won't happen again, but life is...life. In any case, I'm back for now and have every intention of finishing the WIPs I've got going on right now and starting on some new works - including Penumbra. Again, I'm sorry for the long wait and I deeply appreciate everyone sticking with me.
I'd like to give a special shout out to Luvsanime02 and Annoying Little Twit for helping to bring me back from the land of the missing. You two ladies are awesome.
Many, many thanks to my new beta Artemis Fenir!
Warnings: Angst, violence, language, more angst.
Also be aware that I'm ...let's say finagling Endless Waltz. And by finagling I mean butchering for parts.
Don't try to solve the code - I made it up and I promise it doesn't translate.
Reunion
He didn't understand why the others bothered to watch the celebrations on television.
The celebrations had started as soon as an armistice was declared and had continued for the three weeks since, and Trowa supposed that it was only natural to turn away from death and destruction and focus on frivolous pleasures. But three weeks of watching middle-aged politicians giving speeches, dancing with young and beautiful waltz partners, opening orphanages, hospitals and schools and Trowa was bored out of his mind.
He knew that some of his disdain stemmed from the fact that the politicians now in the limelight were the same ones who had cowered in the shadows and on the back benches while OZ, Treize, Romafeller and White Fang wreaked havoc on the earthsphere. What he didn't understand was why Duo, Heero, Wufei and Quatre found the celebrations so fascinating.
To be fair, it wasn't as if they had a wide selection of entertainment at their fingertips - the television had only the most basic channels available and those seemed to be running post-war specials every hour of the day. The few dozen books in the paltry library were dull as dirt - a handful of romance novels, some pulp-horror fiction, biographies of long dead and useless old men and a selection of fantasy books that featured a distressing amount of bestiality. The web access was so severely restricted that Heero had only been able to pull up filtered news feeds and celebrity gossip pages.
Trowa broke down one night, twenty-six days after the end of the war, when a late night program featured a documentary on the recovery of a Terran family who had been displaced during one of the Gundam attacks. The family consisted of a mother, a father, two boys and a young girl - all miraculously uninjured except for the girl who was now missing both legs below the knee yet was still determined to help "preserve the new peace." He didn't know if it was the sight of the amputated legs, the teary-eyed father, or the two boys who were his age and had done nothing more than miss a few meals during the war that broke him. Maybe it was the way that Quatre teared up too, or the way Wufei looked away and shook his head in self-recrimination.
"Why are you watching this crap?" He finally demanded.
The others turned to look at him. Trowa always sat in the armchair by the window, as far from them and the television as possible. Quatre and Wufei usually shared the couch, while Heero occupied the other armchair and Duo either leaned against the wall or sat on an arm of the couch.
"What do you mean?" Quatre asked, a note of hurt in his voice.
The question frustrated Trowa almost as much as the programming and he clenched his jaw to avoid an outburst.
"I think he's asking why we're watching this crap," Duo clarified, a smirk in his voice and on his face.
Wufei rolled his eyes.
"Yes, we heard him, thank you."
"Any time," Duo gave him a salute.
"It's information," Heero offered.
"It's propaganda," Trowa argued.
"It's the truth," Quatre disagreed, "this is what happened - this is what we did. This is -"
"This is not what we did," Duo muttered. "This is what they did." He waved an arm, taking in the house, the earth, maybe the entire earthsphere.
Trowa found himself nodding in agreement. Of course Duo understood.
"It's torture porn, that's what this crap is," Duo continued. "They're browbeating all the sheep into following the new order and preserving the new peace."
"They're turning war into the monster under the bed that everyone has to be afraid of," Trowa added.
"This is the future," Heero pointed out emotionlessly. "We did make this possible. This is the world we live in now."
Duo snorted.
"Not for long," he muttered.
The others turned to him with interest.
"What have you heard?" Trowa had to know.
Duo shook his head, a sneer on his face.
"That bastard on the morning watch has a fat mouth - "
"He's not a bastard, he's just doing his job," Quatre broke in.
"Perhaps if you learned some manners and stopped taunting him he wouldn't find it irresistible to keep punishing you," Wufei added.
"Not to mention your escape attempts are tightening security on all of us," Heero contributed.
"Go on," Trowa said to Duo in irritation.
Duo rolled his eyes at the others and turned, leaning against the wall with his back to them and his attention focused on Trowa.
"The trials are starting next week. He couldn't wait to let me know - they'll be taking us into town soon to put us in separate cells now that they've built their cases." Duo rubbed the back of his neck. "So I'm thinking our time at Casa de Alcatraz is almost at an end."
Trowa frowned. He hadn't realized things were moving this quickly, and from the looks on everyone else's faces, they had thought they had more time as well.
"Good," Wufei decided. "This is a waste of everyone's time. These trials should bring a conclusion to this and we can all move on."
Duo snorted.
"Oh yeah? Move on to prison cells? At least none of us are going to be publicly executed." Duo swallowed hard and Trowa wondered if he was remembering just how close he had come to such a fate before.
"Not publicly," Trowa agreed. "But we all know it's more convenient for us to disappear."
"What are you talking about?" Quatre demanded, jumping up from the couch and turning to them with wild eyes. "No one is going to be killed - executions are illegal now! Not to mention the fact that we are all underage!"
"You are, maybe" Duo said, "but the records of Wufei's birth were destroyed with his colony - Heero never had any legitimate I.D. to begin with and Trowa and I are ghosts in the system - genetic tests don't show anything but malnourishment and reveal that we're less than twenty five. You really think they care that we're only 16?" Duo shook his head. "No, it's like Trowa said - they need a monster under the bed. What's better than locking up child terrorists?"
"It will focus attention on education, surveillance and restrictions," Heero mused. "It's the ideal scenario for creating a new society that watches for any sign of violence or potential threats - start with the children and you can reshape the human race."
"Exactly," Duo sighed. "Which leaves us with the chance to meet some new roommates and -"
"No. They aren't going to lock all of us up. That's ridiculous." Quatre sounded unsure of his own words.
"Not all of us," Duo agreed.
"But they need an example," Trowa said. "At least one of us."
Quatre's jaw dropped.
"You're saying that one of us has to pay the price for the crimes we all committed?"
"Um, no, the crimes all of humanity has committed," Duo clarified.
"No. They have to treat us all the same - we all did our part. If -"
"Calm down, it's not going to be you," Duo growled, clearly irritated with Quatre's emotional state.
"You're too valuable as the heir of Winner Inc.," Trowa assured him when Quatre looked in his direction, eyes wide. "You will be the perfect example of a reformed terrorist who will devote himself to preserving the new peace."
"And I'm guessing Heero's safe too," Duo said. "Too many photos and vids of you and Relena kissing - they need some bright couple to hang onto to build the future around." He turned to Wufei and Trowa. "Which leaves us lucky bastards. Want to draw straws to see who takes the fall for the others?"
There was a moment of silence and then Wufei cleared his throat.
"I've been approached by the Preventers. Sally Po came yesterday and offered me a position with them after the trials ended."
Trowa was completely taken aback by the fact that Wufei had clearly intended to keep that a secret.
Duo turned to him with a grin.
"Well it's just us. Want to arm wrestle? You've got some muscles, I know, but I think I can take you - I learned this neat trick once and -"
"You're being an idiot," Heero broke in. "Do you really think you have any say in who they pick to take the fall? Maybe it will be both of you - but there's not much you can do to affect the outcome."
Duo snorted.
"Have ya met me? I can talk my way into and out of almost anything. They want a villain - but all they're going to get is me or Trowa."
"What would you do?" Trowa found himself asking. "What would you do if you were cleared of any charges and released?" He was surprised to find that he was actually curious.
Duo held his gaze for a long moment, his vivid eyes searching while the smile on his face stayed frozen. The moment passed and he shrugged.
"You know, steal some stuff, get drunk all the time and hook up with lots of girls. What about you? Big plans to go to university and become an engineer or something?"
"No," Trowa responded instantly, irritated that Duo had blown off the question and even more irritated that Duo knew him well enough to guess at dreams he kept secret from even himself. "I'd do the same. Nothing like getting drunk and hooking up with girls."
Duo chuckled, but it was a dark sound that set Trowa's teeth on edge.
"Right then, so neither of us deserves it." He held out one hand and wiggled his fingers. "So how 'bout it then - arm wrestle? Winner spends the rest of his life on this shithole while the loser gets to go back to space?"
"Why does the winner have to lose?" Wufei interrupted and Trowa scowled. He had forgotten about the others.
"Because the losers always win in the end, don't they?" Duo said.
Trowa sighed and stood up.
"The kitchen table should work," he said and started to push up his sleeves.
"Meet you there in two minutes. I gotta go work on my game plan." Duo winked and left the room.
"This is stupid - and useless! You're both being pessimistic. They won't -"
"Quatre," Trowa interrupted him. "You can't fix everything."
Duo was already in the kitchen, waiting for Trowa and the others. He had wrapped his red bandana around his forehead to act as a sweatband and he looked ridiculous. Trowa refused to smile.
"Alright, let's do this buddy." Duo set his right elbow on the table and wiggled his fingers again, a shit-eating grin on his face and a devilish gleam to his eyes.
Trowa said down in the chair opposite him and took Duo's hand in his own, wrapping his fingers around Duo's cool, calloused skin. Duo gave their joined hands a squeeze and Trowa realized abruptly that this was the most human contact he had had in months.
"Ready?" Duo asked and before Trowa could respond he started to push.
Trowa recovered just as Duo started to bend their hands close to the table surface and started to push back. He was surprised at how strong Duo was - he had never assumed the slighter boy was weak, but the force he was applying to their joined hands was impressive.
He wondered what would happen if he just let Duo win - it was obvious the long haired boy wanted to sacrifice himself and that alone made Trowa decide not to let him. He didn't know why Duo thought he should be the one - was he better or worse than the rest of them? What made him qualified to shoulder the burden that no one else would?
Trowa was able to start forcing their hands in the other direction and Duo growled in frustration and started to apply more force.
A whisper of fabric diverted some of his attention, and then Trowa felt the pressure of Duo's foot settle on his crotch.
Trowa looked at Duo's face, but his attention was focused solely on their joined hands.
Duo started to rub against Trowa, kneading him through the tight fabric of his jeans.
Trowa closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He redoubled his efforts to push Duo's hand down but he could feel himself getting hard. He felt a flash of anger - at Duo for trying to manipulate him and at himself for being weak and hormonal enough to actually be turned on during a literal fight for his life.
Duo was clearly starting to use up the reserves of his strength and Trowa was able to push their hands a few inches closer to the surface of the table.
And then Duo did something with his foot that left Trowa gasping for air and Duo triumphantly slammed their hands down.
"I told you I learned a neat trick," Duo taunted him and rose from the table. He held his arms up as though he had just won a race. "I know, I know. I am now and forever the champion." He pulled his bandana off and tossed it to Trowa. "A souvenir. Might also help you clean up any messes you make." He winked and left the room.
Trowa glared after him, furious and speechless.
"I guess... it's what he wants?" Quatre hazarded.
Wufei snorted.
"It won't matter, in any case - one look at his face and they'll think he's just a misguided kid. He doesn't look like a terrorist." Wufei shot Trowa a conciliatory look. "You're the one who looks like he could topple governments. You're the one who talks like a military strategist."
"They've got vids of Duo getting captured," Heero pointed out. "Everyone knows his face from the war - they know he killed people. Trowa suffered a traumatic brain injury."
They all looked in his direction and Trowa dropped his gaze to the table. He had nothing to say to any of them but he couldn't get up and leave without risking embarrassment.
Eventually they drifted out of the kitchen and he heard the television volume being turned up. Someone was singing that appalling new anthem that had been written the day after Barge had been destroyed.
Trowa scooted back from the table and looked down at his lap to see the dark, wet spot on his jeans. He clenched the red bandana in his hand and rose from the chair. He went to his room and changed into sweatpants and a new t-shirt. They had all been given clothes when the Preventers decided to lock them up out of sight before the war crimes trials were set to begin. The clothes fit but showed absolutely no personality: they had all been given two pairs of jeans, two pairs of sweatpants, one pair of khaki pants - which Duo had given to Quatre in exchange for another pair of jeans - enough boxers, socks and shirts to last them two weeks between washes and flimsy sneakers that would be useless as stealthy or protective footwear.
The house they had been sequestered in was in the middle of nowhere - Heero had been able to figure out that they were in the desert east of San Francisco, but had been unable to pinpoint an exact location. Seven guards patrolled the house at all times, but for the most part remained outside and left the five former terrorists to their own devices. Only twice had the guards interfered with their daily activities. The first time had been when Duo rigged the microwave as a bomb and Wufei had discovered it and started yelling at him. The guards had come running and the microwave, as well as all other kitchen equipment with the potential to explode, had been removed. They now had their meals delivered three times a day and both fresh and dry snacks were stocked in the refrigerator and the cupboards. It was the best Trowa had ever eaten in his life, and he was immensely grateful that none of them were responsible for feeding themselves. The second time had been only a few days ago, when Duo and Heero had gotten into a fight when Heero caught Duo trying to escape the house again. Heero himself had called the guards attention and the result of that latest escape attempt by Duo was the revocation of their collective outdoor privileges. Now none of them were allowed outside at any time. This didn't bother Trowa much either, considering that even though it was winter it was almost ninety degrees outside during the day and down to thirty at night, with no cover.
He waited until the television was silent and he was sure the others had gone to their own rooms before he slipped out of his and approached Duo's. The door was locked, which made Trowa roll his eyes. It took him less than twenty seconds to pick the lock and then he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
The room was dark, but dim moonlight filtered in through the double-plated windows and cast a silver glow over everything.
"Fancy meeting you here," Duo spoke up from the bed.
Trowa turned to see him sitting up, his knees drawn to his chest in a deceptively innocent pose. Duo was resting his chin on one of his kneecaps and he looked for all the world like a sixteen year old kid woken up in the middle of the night.
Trowa sat down at the foot of the bed and crossed his legs.
"Why is it so important for you to be the one?"
Duo clearly hadn't been expecting the question. He frowned.
"Because I can't let them win this one too."
It wasn't as if Duo lied often, but nonetheless he hardly ever told the truth. Trowa didn't know how to interpret the fact that Duo was being honest with him now.
"You think they won the war?"
"Don't treat me like an idiot. They did - you know it and I know it. They always win but I'll be damned if I let this go according to their plans."
"You going to prison doesn't fit their plans?"
"Sure, that part does - but what I do when I'm in prison sure as hell won't fit. If they want a villain to lock away I'm going to give them one and I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure everyone who comes through that prison understands the price that was paid for the sheep out there."
"I didn't fight the war for a cause," Trowa said.
Duo nodded.
"I know. That's why you were so good at it. That's why it's going to be easier for you to move on. Go to college. Become an engineer." Duo reached out and flicked his fingers against Trowa's folded hands. "Change the world."
Trowa grabbed his hand.
"You could change the world. You could go to college and become an engineer."
Duo sneered and tugged on his hand but Trowa refused to let him go.
"You're smart, Duo. You know how this ends - you die in prison and yeah, you're charismatic enough to convert some people and get them to go out into the world and agitate but it won't be enough. They will still win. They will always win unless you change the game. You're going to be preaching to hardened criminals. Heero already said - it's the kids who are going to get brainwashed. They're the only ones who can change the game."
"Then you can change it," Duo said. "You're better at all of it anyway. People would listen to you - they would follow you and believe you."
Trowa shook his head. "Not like you. I'm easy to ignore, you're impossible not to notice."
"Anyone who thinks it's easy to ignore you is blind and stupid," Duo muttered. He tried tugging on his hand again but Trowa found himself completely unwilling to surrender this physical link to Duo.
"You're the one who keeps calling people sheep," Trowa pointed out.
Duo leaned forward and kissed him, the sudden move taking Trowa by surprise and upsetting his balance so that he found himself on his back with Duo's body pressed on top of his.
It was Trowa's first kiss and he suspected it was Duo's first as well. It made Trowa feel alive from the tips of his toes to the ends of his fingers. His entire body tingled from the contact and he finally released Duo's hand so he could wrap his arms around the other boy.
He felt Duo's mouth open and the press of his tongue against his lips. Trowa opened his mouth and tasted Duo for the first time. The sharp taste of mouthwash filled his mouth and nose and Trowa inhaled deeply, trying to capture the wet heat of Duo.
"I have to ask you a favor," Duo pulled away eventually and sat back on his heels, straddling Trowa's hips.
Without waiting for Trowa to respond Duo reached to the back of his neck. A moment later he held out his hands to Trowa, dangling the gold chain and cross that he always wore between them.
"Hang onto this? I might even be able to get it back from you someday." Duo fastened the cross around Trowa's neck and Trowa felt his throat constrict.
"Why don't we just set Wufei up to take the fall?" Trowa suggested, sudden desperation clawing at his gut.
Duo smirked.
"He'd enjoy it too much." He kissed Trowa again and Trowa held him tightly.
"This isn't just out of sympathy, right?" Duo asked the next time they broke for air. "Or some kind of 'we could be sentenced to life in prison tomorrow so let's fuck tonight' kind of thing?"
"No," Trowa assured him right before he punched him in the throat.
Duo felt back with an angry, choking gasp. Trowa followed him and hit him again, this time in the gut.
He pummeled Duo, aiming for all of the sensitive spots on the human body before he turned his attention to Duo's face.
The other boy was gasping for air and fighting through pain, but his eyes were remarkably clear and angry.
"You... bastard..." Duo managed to say, his words barely audible.
"Go change the game, Duo," Trowa said before landing a solid blow to Duo's temple, knocking him out.
He delivered a few more hits, enough to make sure that Duo's face wouldn't be camera-worthy for at least a month, before he turned his attention to Duo's side one last time and made sure he broke some of Duo's ribs. He wanted to make sure the other boy was in the hospital for as long as possible, but he wasn't about to risk breaking his arms or legs.
When he finally rose from the bed Trowa was shaking with adrenaline and disgust.
The closest room was Wufei's and Trowa pounded on the door without mercy until Wufei opened it.
"What the hell is it?" He demanded angrily.
"Duo needs medical attention," Trowa informed him and then walked away.
-o-
Duo had been right. People were sheep. They were blind and stupid because they believed every word Trowa fed them about his own guilt. He told them that his role in the war had been to plan and coordinate all Gundam attacks and the jury nodded and scribbled notes. He told them that he had committed treason by enlisting in OZ and then using his position to feed intelligence to the colonist rebels and they scribbled more notes. He told them that he wished the earth had seen even more damage and hoped the colonies rebelled again soon and they stopped taking notes. He told them he was proud of his handiwork and admitted that yes, he had attacked his former comrade because the bastard had wanted to apologize for the war and they couldn't even look at him anymore. It only took a day for the jury to deliberate. They took into account his youth and his traumatic brain injury and decided he was a menace to society and condemned him to fifty years in prison.
As they led him away from the courthouse he was mobbed by reporters and television crews. It made him wonder if Duo would see him.
"I'm not sorry," he told them, just in case he could. "This time the winner loses."
-o-
The prison was full of former OZ officers, smugglers, colonial rebels and run of the mill murderers and gang members. Trowa felt right at home. It reminded him of his youth with the mercenaries and he was able to quickly adapt to his new surroundings, becoming almost invisible to most. Anyone who had seen footage of his trial was convinced he was a psychopath and stayed away from him and after two attempts to rape him ended with the hospitalization of the would-be rapists, he was left alone in the showers.
It was a year into his sentence when the first letter arrived.
There was no return address and while the name on the envelope was Catherine's, the handwriting was not. Trowa opened the letter and stared at it, dumbfounded.
Dear Trowa,
We just got back from the beach. It's shitty this time of year and I told Bill we shouldn't have gone but he's a moron and forced us to go. The twins got sick and threw up all over the bedroom and the dog ran away but we found him stuck in a crab trap the next day. Bill said he was a good boy but I think Bill is a moron. Next time you will have to come with us.
We saw that new movie with that actor you hate and he was wonderful. It makes me remember the old days.
Hugs and kisses on your nose,
Cathy
The letter was definitely not from Catherine.
He was embarrassed that it took him three hours to work out the code the letter had been written in.
Dear Trowa,
You're an idiot. Everyone is moving on and preserving the peace. I've set plans in motion and I will change the game. I won't forget you. Catherine is fine. I don't know who Bill is. If she knows a Bill I'm sure he's fine too.
Maybe we can both be losers.
Every month after that, a new letter arrived, each written in a different code. They were always short and vague, but slowly, over time, Duo's plans took shape.
Trowa refused to feel hope, but Duo made him content. He was acting, he was trying to make a difference and that was enough. It was more than Trowa had ever been able to do.
-o-
Five years after his incarceration Trowa had his first and only visitor.
He was escorted to a private room one day and his hands cuffed to the table before the guards left him alone with Une.
"I wanted to check on you."
Trowa couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at that.
"The guards report that you've had exemplary behavior, well, aside from a few incidents your first year in."
Trowa remained silent. As with most conversations, this one did not appear to need his participation.
"That's a good thing. When you are up for early parole," she consulted a sheet of paper, "in thirty years that will reflect very well."
He had no idea why she was really here and while part of him appreciated this break in the monotonous prison routine another part of him was irritated that her visit coincided with his yard time and he would miss out on the basketball game.
"There was an attempt by the Barton Foundation to complete Operation Meteor."
Trowa was mildly interested. He wondered what part Duo had played in it.
"Your former comrades assisted the Preventers in shutting down the Operation before it got too advanced. Only two colonies were lost in the fighting."
He kept his expression blank but he felt a surge of hatred for her. Only two colonies.
At least it answered the question of what part Duo had played in the events - there was no way he would aid Barton in the completion of Operation Meteor and there was even less chance that Une would be alive and speaking with him if Duo had worked with her to prevent the Operation and her reaction had been to congratulate him because only two colonies were lost.
"I wanted to warn you that this prison will soon have some additional inmates, from this conflict. In our debriefings it sounds as though some were former...acquaintances of yours."
"Of mine or of Trowa Barton's?" He had to ask.
"Both," she answered with an eyebrow raise of her own.
Trowa nodded. He did appreciate the warning.
"Is there anything you need?"
Trowa's lips twitched into a smile before he could stop himself.
"Is there anything you can get me?" He responded and Une sighed.
She consulted the paper again.
"I believe I am allowed to give you chocolate and cigarettes."
"How often?"
"No more than once a week."
"Then that should make mail day interesting at last. Every week."
She looked at him, her gaze searching.
"Would you like to know how the others are doing?"
He shrugged one shoulder.
"Wufei works for the Preventers. He has been instrumental in preserving the peace. He is a true asset to the organization. Quatre is using his company to fund revitalization projects on colonies that were devastated by the conflicts. Heero and Relena will be married this fall. She is doing her part to motivate the people to remain pacifists."
It sounded as if Une was reading press release statements she had memorized, and Trowa wouldn't be surprised if she had had this information prepared by an assistant.
She didn't mention Duo and Trowa was too curious to ask.
Une sighed and stood.
"I have meetings to get to." She walked to the door and signaled to the guards. "Goodbye, Trowa."
-o-
By his own estimation, Trowa was twenty five when his life became hell.
It took nearly two years for the newest war crimes trials to conclude - apparently doing things swiftly was no longer as important as it had been before. It took another year for the Barton Foundation's lackeys to organize themselves within the prison and gain enough favor with the guards and other inmates to control things.
They came for him when he was lifting weights in the yard.
He had no idea why he bothered with the exercise, except that it was something to do and it helped intimidate anyone with delusions of revenge. It did not intimidate the seven former Barton soldiers who kicked him off the weight bench and tried to smash his head in with the weights from the barbell.
It was a decent strategy, and Trowa had no qualms using it against the thugs after he avoided the first blow. He managed to down two of the men that way and injure a third with the barbell itself before the others managed to pin him down and turned the pipe on him.
Trowa was in the infirmary for almost six weeks and came out of it with scars on his face and chest and a crooked nose.
They put him in solitary after that.
Duo's monthly letter didn't arrive. Une's care packages stopped coming.
After three months, Trowa was forced to ask one of the guards where his mail was.
He was curtly informed that inmates in solitary did not receive any mail. All of his privileges had been revoked.
Trowa swallowed the clawing, gasping sensation of defeat and asked how long he would be in solitary.
"Rest of your sentence. Warden thinks it's not safe to put you back in the general population."
"I don't care about my safety - let them attack me if it means I get mail again," Trowa was desperate enough to say.
The guard snorted.
"It's not your safety the warden's concerned about. You killed two of those guys that attacked you. Warden can't spend his time filling out those kind of reports. Looks bad for the bottom line. Nope. You're in here now."
-o-
After fifteen years in prison Trowa was starting to forget the important details of his life from before. If he closed his eyes he could still remember the smells of the circus at night, but he had a harder time remembering the exact tilt of Catherine's smile. He could still remember the launch sequence codes for Heavyarms but he couldn't remember if Quatre liked Shubert or Rachmaninov better. He forgot what it felt like to hold Duo in his arms. All he could remember was heat and solid weight but even now the memory felt lighter, as if Duo was fading away or as if it had never even happened.
Trowa wondered if he was going crazy. If he was he wished that it would happen faster. He couldn't stand this gradual slide into oblivion.
He did two hundred sit-ups every day because counting aloud was the only time he trusted himself to speak anymore.
He grew a beard and every six months shaved it off again to pass the time.
Trowa was three months into a new beard when they released him.
The guards said nothing to him when they handed over the possessions he had entered prison with - Duo's cross and his bandana. They gave him clothes, shapeless sweats that reminded Trowa of the night he had last seen Duo, and enough money to cover bus fare to the nearest city.
Wufei was waiting outside the prison to collect him.
Trowa didn't recognize him at first, but then Wufei scowled and the petulant fifteen year old that Trowa had known suddenly appeared.
"You look better than I thought you would," Wufei said.
"Because I'm not almost seventy?" Trowa had to ask.
"No. I read the report when you were almost beaten to death. I thought the scars would be worse. You can't even see them from far enough away."
"You can't see them at all if you close your eyes," Trowa offered.
Wufei scowled again.
"I'm taking you to Quatre. He's arranged a job for you in his company."
Wufei drove them to the nearest city with a spaceport and they spent the night in a hotel before the flight the next morning.
"Why was I released?" Trowa asked Wufei in the darkness of the hotel room that night.
"Because Relena was elected as Secretary of State for the Earth Sphere United Nations and I'm guessing enough people were tired of listening to her complain about your sentencing. The video didn't hurt either."
"Video?"
"Right. You've been in prison."
Trowa clenched his jaw. He was grateful for the darkness and the distance of Wufei's bed from his own.
"It surfaced about two years ago. One of the guards must have recorded the attack on you a few years back - the video was footage of that spliced together with footage from the war and had voiceover from a few of Relena's speeches calling for forgiveness. It gained a lot of traction a year ago - a lot of college kids started protesting about the lack of transparency in the government. That only made the riots worse and -"
"Riots?"
"They don't have television in prison? It's been all over the news for the last four years."
"I've been in solitary confinement for the last six years, Wufei."
"Right. There have been riots in most of the colonies - especially in the L2 and L3 sectors - because of the post-war tax measures."
"Which are?"
"All colonial exports are taxed at a higher rate to help fund restoration projects on the Earth and the Moon."
"You're joking."
"No, of course not."
Trowa felt like laughing.
"So when's the next war going to start?"
Wufei scowled.
"Rebel activity has decreased significantly after the Barton Foundation failure years ago. We break up fewer and fewer armed terrorist cells every year. There won't be another war."
Trowa glared at the dark ceiling overhead until his eyes burned and the sun started to rise. He waited until Wufei started to stir before he rose from his bed and showered.
He spent a long time staring at himself in the mirror afterwards and he wondered when he had stopped being a sixteen year old mercenary and started to care about the world around him. The answer came to him easily.
When Duo kissed him.
Before that moment, Trowa had been able to view everything as an outsider, logically analyzing situations and choosing when and where to participate in order to ensure his continued survival. Kissing Duo had made Trowa feel something more than self-preservation and it had made him realize that logic - no matter how cold and calculating - could never replace the heat and passion that Duo had.
As he stared at himself in the mirror Trowa decided that he wouldn't question this twist of fate. He had the chance to be with Duo and to help him. He had the chance to change things.
-o-
Quatre was the one who told him, and Trowa suspected that Wufei had planned it that way all along.
"It was during the riots on one of the L2 colonies a few months ago. About thirty civilians were killed and he - he was one of them."
Wufei had fled as soon as he had delivered Trowa safely into Quatre's hands and Quatre had spent two days watching Trowa's every move, biting his lip in the same nervous way he had half a lifetime ago. Trowa finally broke and asked the question he had been wanting an answer to for fifteen years.
"How is Duo?"
Quatre had teared up and Trowa had a vivid flashback to that last day with Duo and the others when Quatre had almost cried at the thought of one of them being sent to prison for the rest of their lives.
"He was... well, he wasn't strictly a civilian, you know. Wufei found out that Duo has been working against the government for years. Nothing violent - he wouldn't even help fight the Barton Foundation. But for years now there's been all these pamphlets and videos - mostly on the colonies but they are starting to get traction on Earth and the Moon too these days - questioning ESUN and peace and pacifism and - well, Wufei has been investigating this for years and found out that Duo was behind all of it. All this time. We all thought he was just a smuggler - but it turns out he was trying to start a revolution."
Trowa felt so numb he wondered if his heart had stopped pumping blood.
He let Quatre spend the next week catering to his every whim, even though he expressed no desire or pleasure for anything. Quatre bought him new clothes, fed him rich food, gave him books and music and kept speaking to him so much that it took all of Trowa's concentration to keep breathing.
One night when Quatre finally left him alone, Trowa escaped from the comfortable new prison and fled. He was able to track down information about the riot Duo had died in and used money he stole from Quatre to buy a shuttle ticket to L29986.
-o-
The memorial was made from Gundanium and Trowa started to laugh as soon as he touched the cool metal and recognized it. Indestructible.
It was simple, just a row of Gundanium pillars that had been erected in a park near the location of the riot, each inscribed with a victim's name and a few words.
Duo Maxwell. Survivor of the War.
Trowa couldn't stop laughing at how ridiculous the inscription was.
At some point he realized he had stopped laughing and started crying. He sat down in front of the pillar and stared at the engraved letters through his tears.
This was it. Fifteen years later and this was the end of it all.
Duo had tried to change things. He had tried to change the game and he had lost. Again.
"Because they always win," Trowa muttered, thinking about Duo's reason for wanting to go to prison.
He cursed himself for feeling hope and for dreaming that he had a chance at a future.
"It's like a row of dominoes just waiting to be knocked over."
The voice startled Trowa out of his self-pity.
He scrubbed at his wet face and burning eyes.
"I remember when they put this damn thing up - it was about four months ago - and they kept having to replace that pillar."
"Why?"
"Somebody kept spray painting graffiti on it."
"What kind of graffiti?"
"Just one word. Loser."
"Why?"
"Because losers always win."
Trowa turned around.
"Huh. You're right. If I close my eyes I can't see the scars at all."
Fifteen years had changed Duo in almost every way. He had put on weight and height, his face had taken on the hard, sharp lines of adulthood and his hair was cropped short. But when he opened his eyes they still burned with fire and his smile was still tipped with anger.
Trowa couldn't resist the need to look back at the pillar with Duo's name on it. Had he actually gone crazy? Was he hallucinating all of this inside his prison cell right now? Was this some surreal dream?
"It's all a game, right? Well, maybe it's like checkers. I made it across the board and it's time to become something new so I can clean up all the black pieces out there. It was time to get rid of that piece."
"You're alive."
"And you're out of prison. Now that we've cleared up the obvious, I'm hoping you're going to return my cross to me?"
"No," Trowa told him.
Duo nodded and his smile lost its edge, relaxing into a grin that Trowa found himself returning.
"So listen, I know you've probably got a lot of job prospects lined up, but I could really use a co-conspirator if I'm going to take down the government in the next fifteen years."
"What kind of salary are we talking?"
"Eh, salary's crap but there's an excellent benefits package."
Trowa arched an eyebrow.
"Look, man, either you join me and we do this thing or I'm just going to give you the ass kicking I owe you from fifteen years ago. We can do this easy way or the hard way."
Trowa stood up and discovered that they were almost the same height now.
"What kind of benefits?"
Duo smirked and grabbed the back of Trowa's head with one hand and pulled him closer.
Kissing Duo felt like breathing fresh oxygen after hours on recycled air. Trowa felt his whole body fill with warmth and life. Everything else seemed to fade away except for the press of Duo's lips, the heat of his mouth, the tips of his nails digging into Trowa's neck.
When the kiss ended, Duo pressed his forehead to Trowa's.
"Ready to wipe the board clean?"
"Yes."
-o-
The End.
Up Next: expect an update/conclusion for Music We Can Dance To!