Downfall
By Danyu

Author's Note: I have no idea where I'm going with this, just so you know. But it's an idea I've had stuck in my head for years, so let's give it a try. Will be slash/yaoi, first parts being Heero/Duo, and then it will move into next generation OCxOC. Let's see where it goes.

Chapter One: Prelude To The Fallout

March, A.C. 201

It was two in the morning in one of L-2's typically rundown medical centers, full of cold and empty corridors, the only sounds being a low buzz of conversation from the late night workers at the desk and the occasional ring of a phone. The dim lights in the hallway cast a dull, flickering glow on a figure sitting alone in a row of waiting chairs.

It was the lone figure of a young man, his tall frame sitting hunched over, elbows to his knees, face buried in his hands. He had a worn, casual look to him, dressed in a threadbare, stained t-shirt, jeans with holes in the knees and scuffed work boots. A denim jacket was pulled tight around his shoulders in an attempt to fight off the chill in the poorly-heated building.

He raised his face from his hands, staring down at their callouses, the little scars, the grease stains under his nails. Working hands, hands that had seen lifetimes, more than one could imagine of the youthful, boyish face staring upon them. A weary maturity shone in violet eyes, one that could never be attributed to his physical age. Duo Maxwell had seen more than his fair share in life, more than any man ever should. Especially when that man was, in so many ways, still a boy.

Duo had to wonder how he had gotten himself into this situation. He had become well-known for his escapades in the clubs and in the bedroom, never one to be tied down to any commitment, never bothered by the series of one-night-stands he left behind. He had never bothered to keep it a secret from the woman he considered his best friend, they share a living space and a business after all. He knew well that while she would never rack up the reputation he had so carelessly built up, Hilde had fun of her own. There were no secrets between them, no reason to hide, least of all for Duo to disguise his preferences.

The bars they tended to frequent were places filled with the roughnecks who worked the space docks or the warehouses unwinding after a long day of work, and as gorgeous as they both were, he and Hilde tended to have their pick of them. Not much for brains, but a handsome face and ripped body were right on the menu for a night's entertainment.

His lips twitched into a smile as he remembered certain times, when he stumbled bleary-eyed into the kitchen on a morning after when it was Hilde who had gotten lucky, Duo only shit-faced, and run into Hilde's conquest from the night before. Awkward conversation over coffee as Duo tried to hide his laughter behind his mug over the confused look on the muscle-head's face at his presence. Hilde would sashay into the room sooner or later, plant a wet one on Duo, toss her date his clothes and boot him out the door.

Duo's smile fell, his eyes closing wearily as he continued to remember.

No matter how he pretended to enjoy the partying and the nameless bedroom romps, nothing he did was ever enough. Nothing stifled the ache inside left by the absence of his one-time friend, comrade and lover. Heero, the boy he had fought with and beside. Heero, whose ferocity and passion translated into the bedroom as they grappled together in hurried, fervent couplings. Heero, who had taken his virginity perhaps not with gentleness, but with a consideration Duo had never expected to see from him, and the thoughtfulness had touched him in ways he couldn't confess to.

Heero, no longer that boy, but now a man committed elsewhere, and Duo held no ill will against him, for fifteen seemed such a far cry now from twenty-one. Words to make his lover stay had caught in a young Duo's throat, and in the end, they had walked away from each other. But still Duo ached, and poor Hilde stood by and watched as her best friend drowned his misery behind false cheer and promiscuity.

He had gotten himself roaring drunk one night, Hilde beside him. They had stumbled into their ramshackle house in the predawn hours, and staggered into an intimate embrace traitorous to both their hearts. They had woken the next morning with aching regret and laughed it off, vowing never to speak of it again.

Life had gone back to normal for a short time, only for it to come crashing back down. Two months after that night, he heard her getting sick one morning, raising his suspicions as they ate the same food, drank the same water, and neither had had a drink in weeks. He found Hilde huddled in the corner of their shared bathroom, breaking down in tears as she told him news that brought both their worlds to a halt. She was pregnant. The shuttle pilot she had been seeing with some regularity had been away from the colony for months and that left only one culprit.

For nine months, Duo had gone through life on autopilot, never stopping to let his emotions sink in, never letting his fears and doubts get in the way. He had put Hilde's needs first, accompanying her to every doctor's appointment, indulging mood swings, attending to all the cravings, even if it meant running out at three a.m. for sardines and cream cheese. That he didn't question; he had learned a lot about the emotional temperaments of a pregnant female mechanic, especially after having more than one wrench chucked at his head. That woman had damn good aim.

And now as he sat here, he had to wonder how she must have felt, when he had been too busy, too wrapped up in himself to notice?

He was startled by the sudden sound of a polite cough, and Duo slowly turned his head to meet the interruption of his thoughts. Fighting the growing lump in his throat, he looked up at the nurse standing nearby. She was an older, buxom woman, distinguished by a head of wispy gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She graced him with a gentle, motherly smile and presented him with the tiny bundle held in her arms. "Congratulations, Mr. Maxwell. You have a baby boy."

Duo tentatively took the baby into his arms, brushing the blanket aside to reveal the pink, crinkled face of his newborn son.

He was the most beautiful thing Duo had ever seen.

He brushed his fingers across the fine dark hair on the infant's head, watching as a pair of sleepy blue eyes fluttered open to look up at him. A little fist rose up to meet his touch, tiny fingers wrapping around his.

An adoring smile light up his face. "Michael," he whispered, "That's what Hilde wants. Welcome to the world, Michael Maxwell."

xx

January, A.C. 202

"It is the decision of this court that in the matter of the minor Kanaye Alexander Yuy, shared custody is granted to his parents and guardians, Relena Peacecraft-Darlian-Yuy and Heero Yuy. Full custody is granted to Mr. Yuy in two months' time, as of 5th of March, the year 202, with visitation rights guaranteed to Ms. Darlian upon full agreement of both parties. As it is the full opinion of this court that this decision is in the minor's best interest, it is therefore expected these orders will be carried out to the best ability of the child's guardians. This court is adjourned."

Heero Yuy rose from his place on the bench as the judge passed, fiddling with the knot to his tie, uncomfortable in the suit he wore in the court setting. He paid little attention to the people passing by, eyes locked on the slender woman across the room, and the child seated beside her. As the courtroom finally began clearing out, he quickly made his way toward them, apprehension knotting tight in his stomach.

Intent on his destination, he was fully aware when Relena turned to look at him, cerulean eyes watching his every move as he approached. She was as poised and perfectly coiffed as ever, long hair never falling out of place, clothes never showing a wrinkle or catch. She was as stately and held-together as she had been at fifteen, striking an imposing figure to all those who came across her.

The little boy beside her, four-year-old Kanaye Alexander, was looking uncomfortable as his father in the little navy suit his mother was so fond of. A quiet and solemn little boy, he had his mother's lighter hair, but that was the extent of their resemblance, so much his father's son, with Heero's eyes, face and quick mind.

As he reached them, Heero gave his estranged wife a wan smile, reaching down to stroke a hand his son's hair. The child stared up at him curiously, no other feeling penetrating his placid, young face.

Relena frowned at him, and for a moment Heero was expecting a familiar scolding for ruffling the boy's appearance in public, but instead a heavy sigh. "How long will you be gone?" she asked him, her voice pitched low to grant them some semblance of privacy.

Heero shrugged, turning his eyes from Kanaye to look up at her. There was no disapproval in her voice or in her expression, only a sad kind of quiet weariness. She was tired, he knew. So was he. "As long as it takes," he paused for a moment, continuing hesitantly. "Relena…"

"Don't, Heero." Her soft voice broke through any apologies or explanations he had been planning. "We both agreed, and we both know it's what's best. Come back when you've found what you're looking for. Our son will be waiting for you."

Heero stared at her, feeling a familiar mix of sadness and regret stirring in his chest. Their marriage had been built on little more than friendship and politics, never destined to last. They had both agreed, in the end, that divorce was the best option, something that would be made official soon enough now that custody of Kanaye was worked out.

It was more a relief than anything else. Relena's work was her life, it always had been. For him, they both knew what (who) it was he was missing. Something (someone) he would never find unless she let him go. He could still remember what she had said to him that night, when they made their final decision about their marriage and son.

"We both know what it is you've been longing for this whole time, Heero. Go to him. He's what you need."

And here he stood, ready to take that final plunge. There would be more holding back. He knelt down to his son's level, brushing the bangs out of a familiar pair of Prussian eyes, and smiled. "I'll be back soon, Kan-chan. I promise."

The little boy wrapped his arms around his father's neck, holding as tightly as he could. "Okay, Daddy. Come home soon."

xx

Duo sat on the living room couch in the small house he lived in, a cup of tea held tightly in his chilled fingers. Outside, a storm raged, full of howling winds and rain pelting against the windows. He pressed his fingers against his temples, sighing. He had barely managed to get Michael to sleep an hour before, the little one having come down with a bad chest cold. He was in the final stages, thank goodness, and according to the doctor would need nothing more than rest.

Nearly a year had passed since Michael had graced the world with his presence, and nearly a year since Hilde had passed giving birth to their son. It was times like this, exhausted in the dead of night, when he could feel her presence still haunting him. They had lived together in this same place for years after all. Whether as a comfort or a painful reminder, he had yet to decide, but regardless, feel her he did.

Fatherhood had turned out to be more than he had bargained for, and so, for ten months he had barely held on, learning as he went along. He worried, constantly, if he would be enough for Michael, keeping him up on nights like this when memories and insecurities got the better of him.

Wrapping a blanket tighter around himself, he tried to forget, if only for a short time, as the rain raged on outside. A sharp rapping at the front door broke through his reflections and he reluctantly left the warmth of his couch cocoon. Mumbling under his breath about how best to kill any bastard who dared to pound on his door at one in the morning, he swung it open and his irritation turned to frozen shock.

Drenched to the bone, Heero Yuy's wet clothing stuck as close as a second skin to a lean, muscular body, just as trim and fit as five years before. Hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket, he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he cautiously looked up at the slack-jawed Duo. Dark hair was plastered to his head by the rain, water running in tiny rivulets down his face, and the blue eyes bore into the other man, their depths as stormy and penetrating as he remembered.

Duo had no time to react before a cold hand reached behind his neck, gentle as he was tugged forward, and chilled lips brushed over his own. Duo pulled back to look into the pained eyes of the love he had long since denied himself, and Heero's deep voice met his ears, soft, warm and pleading.

"I need your help, Duo. I need you."