Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.

Pairing: 1x3, 6x9

Rating: PG

Warnings: Death, suicide, language

Author's Note: This came to me when I was having a really bad day. I figured it was better to get it out this way than anything more drastic. My first GW fic, be kind. Criticism welcome, reviews always appreciated. No flames though please.

Dedication: To Ems, who helped me through the darkness and to Katie who worried over me and was my guiding light (not to mention she loves Duo). I'm touched. Thank you.

--

It didn't surprise anyone when the news came. At least, it didn't surprise anyone who truly knew him. There had been whispers about the inevitableness of it for days, weeks, months now. No one really knew what it was that had taken it so long, even those closest to him. Few would admit it but there had been muttered, silent bets going on for over a year.

Duo had been the one to break the news.

They'd all tried to come up with a semblance of normalcy – a poor one which is why it was classified as a semblance. They had ended up getting a house together for a brief time after the war. Before Wufei had moved out, then Quatre. Heero and Trowa had been next but they had stayed roommates, housemates, whatever. They'd purchased a smaller place in the city closer to where they worked.

Which is why the night that Duo got thoroughly trashed in one of the seedier bars in town he'd figured it was safer to go and bum out on the couch like usual. He'd stumbled up the few steps to the apartment building and jabbed the elevator button impatiently until the doors clanked open. He hadn't even bothered with knocking or trying the handle, had simply pulled out the heavy-as-hell key ring and found the one to the apartment door.

He'd been surprised to find it unlocked at this time at night and had opened it a bit farther. Shuffling in he'd noticed the lights in the kitchen on, the door to the bedroom that had been appointed as Heero's open. Light spilled out, around the taller, thin frame of the other person who shared the apartment.

"Hey, Trowa!" Duo had slurred. He's made his way to the other man, noticing for the first time that Trowa hadn't said anything. "Trowa?" he'd questioned quietly. He drew level with the green-eyed ex-pilot and he saw the blood coating his hands, staining his shirt and dripping to the floor. "Trowa, my god, what happened?" He'd never been sober faster.

Trowa hadn't answered, hadn't seemed to notice him. His eyes were fixed on the body lying prone in the room. The gun that had fallen to the floor and lay glinting dangerously in the dim light and the blood spattered envelopes lined up neatly on the end table. Trowa hadn't said a word and it had been Duo who had informed the others that Heero Yuy had killed himself.

The day of the funeral was truly beautiful. The sky was clear without a cloud in sight and there was even a gentle breeze wafting through the cemetery. They had come together for the first time in months and it felt strange, seeing everyone again after so long a separation. And for such a somber reason.

Relena greeted them all with warm hugs, soft words, and a tear stained face. Her mascara ruined and her face bleak without foundation. The press that had gathered for the ceremony all enjoyed snapping pictures with labels such as "Vice Foreign Minister Grieves for Lost Love" or "Vice Foreign Minister Attends Funeral Without Make-up" or some other such nonsense. Her friends didn't care though, they all understood.

She had been the first one Duo had notified.

Quatre had sniffed and spoken quietly to them. He had gotten time off from the family business and had flown in from L4. His whispered assurances had fallen on deaf ears and he had resigned himself instead to offering a quiet, understanding ear. The tabloids enjoyed his appearance almost as much as Relena's. It must have had something to do with being well known and relatively liked.

He was the third to know, after Hilde.

Wufei had left his usual cynicism behind, in favor for being perfectly stoic. His manner reflected that of calm poise, or perhaps something more like disinterested arrogance. He said little and didn't shove Relena away, or make a snide remark, which surprised many but not as much as if the circumstances had been different. Wufei was the last to be notified, simply because Duo didn't know if he'd care.

He'd been the most surprised – he'd bet Heero wouldn't last but he'd hoped he'd be proved wrong.

The gathered together under the canopy that sheltered the funeral-goers, talking quietly. They watched the wind play softly with the lily petals and pluck a few rose petals away from the arrangements surrounding the headstone. They seemed to taunt them, swirling red as blood in a fluttery dance before falling to lie limply on the ground. Catherine covered the ones closest to them with her shoe. Trowa had barely spoken to her since the night.

"It was only a matter of time," Wufei said gruffly. The others eyed him and he shrugged. "We all knew it would happen sooner or later, didn't we?"

Duo nodded miserably and Sally glared at him. "Tell me you aren't planning on collecting your winnings at his funeral," she growled.

He gave her a placating look, a tolerant smile. "No, of course not. That would be disrespectful."

"Anyway," Duo grumbled, "I'm broke until Une pays me next."

"Duo!" Hilde exclaimed, staring at him. He gave her a faint smile and she glared, wrapping an arm around Relena's shoulders. "They're right you know," she murmured consolingly, "the signs were all there. He just…he didn't fit in with this world, he didn't have a purpose. Maybe it is best he's gone."

"How much were you betting?"

The quiet voice startled voice startled her and she turned to see Trowa glowering at her. "What…I…I would never bet on someone's life!" she replied quickly. She looked at them all earnestly as Trowa shook his head in disgust, hands shoved deeply in his pockets and walked off, to stand alone by the gravestone.

"Ignore him," Cathy said firmly, watching her brother. "He's been…reclusive…for awhile now. I'm worried about him, can't have been easy for him to see that."

"It wasn't. It was a mess," Duo stated quietly. He wouldn't admit that the image of his best friend lying like that had haunted his dreams since. Not even Hilde knew about it and he hardly kept anything from her.

"Oh, Duo, I'm sorry, I forgot…"

"It's alright Cathy," Duo replied. He gave her an easy smile and shook his head. "Hilde's right though, Lena," he said, addressing the Vice Foreign Minister. "From what he told me, not much mind you, he just didn't click in this world. Something was wrong, I'm kicking myself still for not insisting he go to see a shrink but you know him. He'd never open up to anyone, much less a stranger. He's better off, you'll find someone else."

He yelped softly as someone elbowed his ribs, someone else stepping on his foot. None too delicately mind you. Relena turned to him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and offering him a puzzled look.

"Find someone else?"

"Well yeah, I mean, once everything dies down. In time and all. You will find someone though."

They could all see realization dawning in her eyes. She shook her head slowly, eyes turning to the lone figure in front of the ordinary headstone. An ordinary marble stone for an extraordinary boy. Somehow that didn't seem quite right.

"You're mistaken, Duo," she said softly. "Heero was never anything more to me than a bodyguard and good friend." She offered him a wane smile and his eyes grew cloudy, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

"But he risked everything for you!"

She shook her head again. "He risked as much as the rest of you did. And probably for reasons extremely similar to the rest of you. He only did it because I represent peace, because I was after the same things you all are and for some reason he believed in me. We were never anything more than friends." Her eyes turned pensive and Quatre rested a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. "Sometimes I wish he hadn't. I wish he hadn't believed in me so much because I never seem to get anywhere."

"That's politics," Quatre reminded her quietly and she laughed softly.

"Yes, I know." Her eyes returned to Trowa and she heaved a sigh. "Cathy, I think you should keep a better eye on that brother of yours. I just…I feel like something is going to go horribly wrong."

"Typical woman, always thinking death is right around the corner," Wufei grumbled. It earned him a few glares from the various female population of their group but at least they knew he was feeling better. "Barton's going to be just fine, needs to learn that death is a part of life."

"I think we all know that quite well Wufei," Noin intoned as she joined their group. She carried a bouquet of lilies in her hand and offered a wane, apologetic smile to the others. "Sorry I'm late, I couldn't reschedule." She hugged Relena loosely before glancing over at where the blonde's eyes were fixed. "Poor Trowa…how is he?"

"Poor Trowa?" Duo exclaimed. The others hushed him as the ex-pilot in question glanced over at them. "How about poor us, Noin?" he demanded.

"Duo!" various voices shushed.

"I'm not saying your grief is any less but it must be hard losing a lover, I should know. I thought I'd lost Zechs once or twice." Several coughs and amazed faces turned to her and she raised an eyebrow. "What?" she asked. "All of you know I'm involved with Zechs!"

"Not that," Duo spluttered, looking highly affronted. He was the King of Gossip, if this rumor was in fact true he should have known about it long before now. "What do you mean, hard to lose a lover? Trowa never lost a lover…"

Noin raised an eyebrow. "You didn't know he and Heero were involved?" She saw the blank looks of Duo, Hilde, and Sally. Dorothy and Wufei looked somewhat smug at having figured it out by themselves. Relena, Catherine, and Quatre shared knowing looks since they had been closest to the two boys to know their secret. "Oh well, I suppose the cat's out of the bag now, so to speak."

"They were but…how…when?" Duo trailed off. He glanced around at the varying facial expressions of his friends before his eyes returned to Noin's. "When did you know…and how?"

She smiled faintly. "Let's just say that it's hard to keep secrets on a base as small as the one in Antarctica…"

"When were you in Antarctica?" Duo interrupted.

"During the war, now shush Duo. Like I said, it's hard to keep secrets on a base, no matter how short they stayed there. Though that might also have to do with the fact that they weren't really all that quiet behind closed doors."

"They were screwing each other during the war?" Duo exclaimed loudly. Hilde stomped his foot again in an attempt to quiet him. "Ow! Hilde!" He turned to Quatre and Relena. "You both knew this?" They nodded, as did Catherine. "And you? How did I not know? You would think Heero would tell his best friend he was screwing a fellow friend!"

"Maybe he didn't mention anything because we weren't screwing." The last word was said with a rare venom hardly ever exhibited by the usually quiet ex-pilot. The group fell silent as Trowa stared at them, no one knowing exactly when he had arrived in their midst.

"Trowa…" Catherine tried. She reached a hand out, setting it lightly on Trowa's shoulder. Green eyes turned with distaste to the offered hand.

Quatre's pale face was flushed to red all the way to the roots of his blonde hair. "I'm sorry Trowa, we didn't know…"

"And that makes it any better?" Trowa demanded. They fell silent, unsure of how to deal with this new, more vocal Trowa. "He's dead and you're all…" he trailed off into stony silence.

"We're sorry Tro," Duo muttered. He gave the taller boy a lopsided smile. "It was just…shocking. I never would have thought the two of you would…well…that you two were like that. You both hid it well. Though I always did suspect Quatre…"

"And you're still wrong to this day, Duo," Quatre replied. His voice was tired, flat, the tone showing they'd had this argument, or different forms of it, repeatedly in the past. "I am perfectly straight, Duo."

"You keep saying that…"

"And we all know how reliable your gay-dar is, don't we?" Hilde quipped. The braided boy turned a violet glare on her and she giggled quietly.

Trowa shook his head. He wanted to strangle Duo, to glare at the rest of them. He wanted to break out of his molded shell and scream and rant about the injustice of it all, though that really did sound like something Wufei would be prone to do. Instead he turned away from them, offering Noin one small smile in return for one of hers, and left. He knew that if he did get all of that, it would pale in comparison to the one thing he wanted most of all.

He wanted Heero back.

He could feel their eyes on his back as he returned to the marble headstone. He had picked it out, with Relena's help, and he wondered vaguely if Heero would appreciate it. If Heero would have even wanted to be buried for that matter. The perfect soldier had left no specific orders in that regard so Trowa had been selfish for once.

He sank down onto the cold grass and plucked at one of the roses before him. He loves me…he loves me not. His mind wandered. He misses me…he misses me not. Much more fitting but more hurtful if the last petal wasn't what he wanted. He shivered – he could still feel the eyes on his back.

They meant well, he knew that, but none of them really knew what had happened that night. Not even Duo who had arrived so soon afterward. He can still remember coming back from his brief visit with Quatre to find the house draped in shadows. Something had warned him that there was something wrong. Maybe it had been the smell of gun powder still hanging in the air, filtering through the air conditioning system. Or the half-hidden yet overwhelming scent of fresh blood.

He hadn't thought though.

Three years. It had been three years since Mariemaia's attempted coup – to the day. Quatre had invited them all over for an anniversary dinner but Heero had backed out at the last minute claiming that he needed to finish up paperwork for Preventers. He had promised that they would celebrate later – just the two of them. But, and here he should have known something was wrong, when he had gone to leave Heero had pulled him into such a fierce kiss, a farewell promise.

The bedroom door had been closed and he had frowned, walking over to it. He could see the faint light underneath, most likely the glow of the streetlamp outside the window, and he'd opened the door slowly, flipping on the light. And that's when he'd seen him. The love of his life, sprawled on the bed. He'd looked so similar, so breathtakingly beautiful, even in death. Just as he'd appeared on the battlefield after the self destruction.

He had gone to him because there had been nothing else to do. He'd crouched at his side, held him close and cried and yelled and shaken him. No pulse, no rise and fall of his chest. He was cold, lifeless. The gun had glinted ethereally in the light and he'd had the sudden, wild urge to grab it and end his own suffering. And then he'd heard the key in the door and had turned, knowing it was Duo. On the threshold he'd turned back because he couldn't resist and his eyes roved the body, trying to understand. He'd seen the envelopes then and a brief, painful flare of hope had ignited.

Duo was the one to call and notify because he hadn't been able to function. All he could do was grab the top envelope, the one labeled Trowa, and retreat to the guest bedroom – the bedroom everyone had been led to believe was his. He'd retreated behind a closed door, listening to Duo's ragged sobs as he relayed the news over the vid-phones to their friends. And then he'd opened the letter to read.

"Trowa…"

He's drawn out of his memories with a soft hand pressed to his shoulder. The hand is warm and he realizes that he's shivering. As his eyes focus he sees the ripped apart roses in front of him, petals covering the ground as the blood had covered the floor. Another shiver rips through his body.

"Come on Trowa," Catherine whispers. She tugs her younger brother to his feet and her arm wraps around his form even though he's taller, stronger. "Let's go home."

He wants to say that he doesn't have a home anymore, or rather, that his home is where Heero is. And therefore said home is here, but he sees the earnest, scared look and all he can do is nod silently. She offers him a brief smile and draws him away from the cold, unyielding uniformity of the headstones and toward the iron gates where the rest of the black-clad party has already passed through.

"It'll be fine, Trowa," Catherine promises.

"Cathy…"

"Hush now. We're all here, you know that." Her eyes are earnest as they stare at him. "You know that, right?" He offers her a nod, knowing that it'll appease her. "Good," she sighs. "I love you Trowa, we all do."

When they reach the house she's staying at for the duration of her visit she offers him a smile and a cup of warm tea but he declines, heading to his assigned room. He hears her bustling about outside and knows that she is probably trying to keep an ear on what's going on behind the closed door. It's annoying but oddly endearing, something he's come to expect of his sister.

He pulls the blood-stained envelope from its hiding place and removes the letter carefully. He's memorized it already but he takes a small measure of comfort from the familiar handwriting, cramped and small – as if written hurriedly – unlike his own loose and flowing script.

Trowa.

I don't know where to begin or even what to say. We, you and I, are people of few words and hidden thoughts, therefore I hope you understand. I love you. I want you to know that, no matter what. I love you and I always have – since I first set eyes on you all those years ago. I feel that I should have said it more often but I hope that my actions spoke louder than the words I kept on lock-down.

You are probably going to be the one who finds me which is undoubtedly a cruel thing to do to a person I claim to love but I couldn't think of a better place. A place full of such good memories – though perhaps not for you anymore. I am sorry Trowa. We had dreams and promises and lives to live but the simple fact is that I was not designed or equipped for this era.

I was created and trained for the act and art of warfare since I was a child. It's all that I have ever known – until you came along at least. I thought I could be happy with you and I was, I am still. But life…I have no purpose Trowa and I can't help but feel that I am holding you back. Maybe it's selfish of me but I've never claimed not to be and so I have to say I'm sorry.

I won't tell you to be happy, or forget me, or to move on. I hope you do because you deserve to be loved and cared for so much more and better than I could have done. Instead I'll give you the same advice I gave you all those years ago, during the war when you were able to save me. Follow your emotions Trowa. Whatever it is they tell you will most likely lead you the right way. I love you Trowa.

Heero.

He swallowed, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes and inhaling deeply. He could remember Heero's voice, cold, ironic, lifeless, and husky from disuse saying those same words to him when they'd been in his trailer at the circus. They had made him laugh then, now they made him think.

What did he want?

He wanted Heero. He wanted the plans they had made to come true – the trip out to space during the holiday season to see Cathy, the saving up to go back to school, the all-day love making session they'd scheduled for their anniversary. He shook his head, driving the thoughts out of his head because now they would never come true. Heero had insured that.

The hall outside was quiet and he wondered briefly where Catherine had disappeared to before he stood impulsively. The note was lying on his bed, staring up at him – black writing on white paper. Follow your emotions. The words taunted him.

He didn't think when he turned his back on them, crouching before the dresser and pulling out the gun. It was simple, well-used, well-cared for. The same gun that Heero had used on himself. Trowa had found it ironic that it had been loaded with only two bullets, it was like Heero knew the outcome even before Trowa himself did. It was his last thought before his finger pulled the trigger as Cathy started the vacuum cleaner. His only hope was the blood wouldn't ruin the note.

It didn't surprise anyone when the news came of Heero Yuy's suicide. After all, there had been whispers about the inevitableness of it for days, weeks, months now. No one really knew what it was that had taken it so long, even those closest to him. Few would admit it but there had been muttered, silent bets going on for over a year.

It didn't really surprise anyone when the news came, courtesy of a distraught Catherine, of Trowa Barton's suicide either. There had been whispers about the probability of it since the night Heero had killed himself. They weren't sure what exactly kept him from committing suicide since the night he found Heero, except that maybe he wanted to make sure he had a funeral. Few admitted the bets on Heero's life, even fewer admitted to the ones on Trowa's.

They found the blood-splattered note and envelope, blood mixing and drying with blood. They didn't question it, because it was just a part of their lives that they hoped would remain dormant. And slowly, over the following months and years, the bets began to formulate again, this time on Duo's, then Quatre's, then Wufei's own lives.

Because no one had ever really expected them to survive so long after the war ended.