When reading a book I used to love as a tiny tot, "Heidi", this AU plot bunny popped into my head. I just have to warn that this is AU and yaoi. So without further ado, I bring to you…

Revelations

Heero Yuy was not a soft young man. He was a handsome one, with intense blue eyes that seemed to look right through a person, and thick, wild brown hair that went whichever way it chose, falling into his eyes and having to be brushed out of them every few moments. He was not thought of as a kindly man, either, yet everybody knew him as a good person.

He was sixteen, born of a good family and had got as good an education as any richer boy. He was clever, and quick, and had deftness about his hands. His parents wanted him to become a doctor, perhaps a surgeon. People trusted him, if they did not like him, and some women found his dark gaze and brooding ways rather appealing.

Certainly, the young nurse with honey coloured hair and sweet blue eyes found him mysterious and as such, rather a challenge for her womanly charms. She smiled at him as she glanced at the small, leather bound book he handed her. "So, why did the vicar choose you to do this job?" She asked, her voice light and inquiring. Her smile was a little flirtatious, and her eyes regarded him carefully, sizing him up.

He looked good to her, dressed casually but with what she defined as class. Legs that were smooth and muscled like an athlete's were accented rather than concealed beneath crisp, dark blue denim. He wore a green shirt that was low enough at the front to hint at a well-developed chest, and a smart denim jacket that looked very new, or at least, little worn.

He shrugged, a little uncomfortable at her open admiration of him, "It's supposed to help me become a better doctor. I have seen little of invalids, so my parents thought this a fine idea."

"Well… Heero," She said, glancing at the visitors badge pinned on the denim jacket he wore, "My name is Relena and I am the nurse for this ward. The boys you are asked to stay with are Quatre Winner and Trowa Barton. Trowa is a quiet boy, I think you'll get along with him, his injuries were received in a car crash that damaged his legs so that he can no longer walk. His family was unable to take care of him, so he came here. Quatre received a head injury that damaged his long-term memory, so he doesn't remember much of his past, but his short-term memory is intact and, thankfully, his condition is improving. He's a very special boy." She smiled at the dark haired young man, but he just nodded in reply.

"Where are they, please?" He asked shortly.

Taken aback, Relena took a moment to reply. The boy was well bred, polite and proper as any gentleman, but so unsociable… She shrugged it off and pointed to a doorway. "Down the corridor there, it's the room on the second right."

"Thank you." He said, perfectly politely again. He set off down the corridor with an easy stride. As he walked he scrutinised the building with a critical eye. He found nothing to displease him. It was a clean, wholesome environment with white painted walls and a scrubbed and swept grey tiled floor. Here and there along the corridor were little benches built into alcoves and windows that looked out onto a small, well kept garden.

As he looked around, Heero tried to ignore the discomfort he felt. He didn't particularly feel suited to the job; he wasn't good at talking or setting people at ease, he was awkward in large companies and he didn't have many friends. He had been chosen because he was the only young man the vicar trusted to take up the job of keeping the two invalids company. Before Quatre's sisters had done that job, but they had all left for college and could no longer be there.

He knocked on the plain wooden door. He wasn't used to feeling nervous, but there was an odd feeling in his stomach as he heard a voice telling him to go in. He opened the door quietly and stepped in. He was greeted instantly by a blond haired boy with a gentle look about his face, who seized his hand and shook it warmly. "Hi, my name is Quatre, you'd be Heero Yuy?"

"Yes," He said, a little dazed. The boy pulled him into the room by his hand, and stopped by a wheelchair. Heero looked down straight into a pair of calm emerald coloured eyes. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as the blond haired boy introduced him.

"Heero, this is Trowa Barton, my best friend." He reached out a hand and put it familiarly on Trowa's shoulder. The green-eyed boy smiled a solemn smile.

"Hello, Heero." He said, and pointed to a chair, "Would you like to sit down?"

Heero sat, hard. There was something about those green eyes that made him feel strange. He regarded the young man carefully. He had a pleasant face, which was shadowed a little by his long hair, which was a pleasant auburn brown colour and stuck out at the front. He was much calmer than his friend was, and he sat straight up in his wheelchair, his hands resting in his lap. He was wearing a dark coloured turtleneck sweater and loose white trousers that hid his thin, wasted legs from view.

"I'm sorry about you having to come sit with us." Trowa said quietly, fidgeting with something he was holding, "I'm sure it will bore you."

"I - " Heero started, but Quatre shook his head warningly, as if to tell him not to protest, and broke in.

"Would you like anything to drink, Heero? You'll have to tell me how you take your tea and coffee every time, I'll probably start forgetting knowing me. Which do you prefer? I have tea already in the pot, but if you'd prefer coffee, I can - "

"Tea is fine." Heero said quickly, venturing a slight smile. "A little milk, no sugar, please." Quatre leapt up to prepare that for him. Heero watched. Quatre always seemed to be moving, his movements were swift and assured, capable, and there was a cheerful, inquisitive expression on his face that didn't fade even as he poured the tea into the pot. His blond hair was neat and cut short, though his fringe hung almost in his eyes at the front. He wore a shirt, a waistcoat and khaki trousers, which produced a businessman-like effect.

Heero took in his new surroundings carefully, as well as watching Quatre, during this lull in the conversation. It was a little room, quite comfortable, with three doors in the wall. One opened into the room from the corridor, and the other two, on opposite walls, he guessed would lead into Quatre and Trowa's bedrooms. The walls in this room were painted a pale yellow, and there was a thick blue carpet on the floor. There was a table, a few spare chairs, and a kitchen like area in which Quatre now stood. A few paintings hung on the otherwise bare walls, all beautiful landscapes. In the corner there was a wooden cupboard, built into an alcove, and a bookcase with shelves full of books.

Trowa's voice was soft, but it started Heero out of his thoughts. "Quatre likes to serve people. He says he will forget, but he won't. He'll write it down, and remind himself, and in the end, he'll remember. He's come a long way since the accident." Heero felt awkward, but then Trowa flashed him a small smile and he felt totally at ease again.

"How long have you been here?" He asked, addressing the question to the green eyed one, but Quatre, handing him his tea, which was warm and pale with milk, replied for him.

"Trowa has been here since he was ten years old - that's six years. Everyone knows him here, and loves him, too. I'm the new boy, I've only been here two years, and I can't remember much of my first year here. But I've always shared this room with Trowa."

There was something in the way he looked at Trowa as he said that that made Heero a little suspicious of the relationship between the two. But he didn't say anything, and didn't admit the thought to himself beyond a quick note. He looked down at his hands, and wondered what he could say to these two. There was nothing they had in common, was there?

"So, Heero!" Quatre said brightly, seemingly knowing all about his loss for words, "Do you support any football teams? Or are you more a rugby guy, or maybe basketball? I'm not keen on any, really, but of course I support England when it comes to football!"

Trowa gave another of those smiles that made Heero relax, and without waiting for Heero to reply to the question - as if sensing that Heero didn't really know the answer. "Quatre was brought in after his accident by the one of the nurses here - not Miss Relena - in England. He doesn't have any attachment to Arabia, his country of origin."

"But supporting England felt right." Quatre explained, "Miss Dorothy found me there after the car accident. It was another year before my sisters found me, and of course it took a long time to determine whether they were really my family because I can't remember any of them. They left me here anyway, because I asked to stay here with Trowa, and I have no life left with them."

"How many nurses are there here?" Heero asked.

"Miss Relena, Miss Dorothy, Miss Jessica and Mister Duo. A girl called Ophelia, Jessica's sister, helps here as well at times. Oh, and Miss Une and Mrs Noin who run the centre." Quatre counted them off on his fingers. "Miss Relena, Jessica and Duo are the ones who take care of me and Trowa most of the time. Duo likes to laugh, and to play tricks on people, he's very funny. Everyone loves him even though they don't necessarily trust him. He was taken in here out of pity for him because - "

"Quatre," Trowa said gently, "I'm not sure Duo would want you to repeat his past to strangers for him."

"No, I don't mind." A deep male voice spoke from the doorway. A tall man with broad shoulders and a well-toned physique stood in the doorway, his hand on a gold cross that hung round his neck. He was dressed all in black, with a white priest's colour, yet Heero didn't think he was religious. He seemed unusual, not least because of his clothing, his purple-blue eyes and a long, thick plait of chestnut coloured hair that hung down his back.

He grinned, seeming to know the thoughts going through Heero's head. "You must be Heero Yuy! I'm Duo, a nurse here. Though I prefer to be called a helper, as everyone seems to think nurses are always female." His attention flicked to the blond haired boy. Heero realised with a start that although Quatre seemed to dominate the room, he was actually quite small. He looked very vulnerable as Duo said softly, "Quatre, it's time for you to see the specialist."

Quietly, Quatre stood. "I'll be back soon, guys," He said softly.

As he exited the room, Trowa turned to Heero and explained, "He is always scared of learning he is either worse or better. On the one hand, he hates hardly knowing who he is. On the other, he doesn't want to get better because he would then have to return to the life he was born into, alone."

Heero nodded quietly. He thought he understood something of Quatre's feelings. It was sometimes hard when family expected a lot of you.

It was lunchtime when Quatre returned, looking much more like the young man Heero had seen when he first entered the room. He smiled at the two, who had sat in companionable silence for the most part, and suggested lunch. Heero pushed Trowa's wheelchair, Quatre led the way and opened the few doors they came to, and they got to the lunch hall without mishap.

A pink-cheeked girl with a bright, doll-like face and large, pretty brown eyes greeted them. She took Trowa's wheelchair from Heero, smiling at him as she did. She stuck a hand out, shook his enthusiastically, and introduced herself as Jessica. "I'll be taking Mr Barton to his table, Dorothy will give you his plate, and that gives you time to get your own lunch," She told him, before capably wheeling Trowa over to a table in the corner.

Quatre led Heero on towards the food counter, talking in a cheerful way. When they reached it, a woman with white blond hair and forked eyebrows kept Quatre talking after she had served them, and Heero slipped away, glad to be overlooked for the moment.

As he sat with his lunch at the table and began to eat, he treasured the few moments he had away from Quatre to think. Without realising it, he had been dragged into having a normal conversation, and for a few moments he had become someone entirely different. He wasn't sure he liked it. He also noted that this job wasn't as bad as he had feared, even if Quatre seemed too good to be true and Trowa was too quiet. He would have liked to talk to Trowa a little more.

Quatre joined them at the table, interrupting his thoughts.

"Hey guys," He said. He seemed quieter than he had that morning, Heero realised, and before he realised it, the words were out of his mouth.

"What's wrong, Quatre?"

"Huh?" The blond looked up at him with his eyes wide, "How could you tell? Only Trowa…" He trailed off.

Heero shrugged, "Normally I spend more time watching and listening than talking. You pick up things a lot better that way, and learn to see what other's don't."

"What did the specialist say, Quatre?" Trowa asked softly. Everything about Trowa was quiet, refined. Heero reflected on that as they waited for Quatre to answer. He observed the blond with the same quiet concern as Trowa. Hardly realising it, Heero had extended his friendship to Quatre and Trowa both; half shyly, and the bond between them was fragile, but in those few hours Heero had forged a friendship with the two other young men stronger than any other friendships he had had before.

"He said… that in six months… maybe I'll be ready to 'go back to the real world'." Quatre said, very softly. "And in three days, I have an interview with my father… if he decides I'm 'adequate', I am to be named as the Winner heir again…"

At last, the name connected in Heero's brain and he nearly cursed aloud at how stupid he'd been. He was Quatre Winner, of course, the heir who had disappeared for a year and had never been heard of again. Of course the Winner family would have hushed up their amnesiac heir. He found that thought a little disturbing, and he wondered whether Quatre's father really cared about him as a person at all. That thought made him a little angry.

After the meal was over and Heero had helped Trowa back to his room, Quatre was his normal self again. They spent a quiet afternoon; Quatre reading aloud to them from a book he fetched from the shelves in the corner. Trowa explained quietly that he didn't have a great concentration span thanks to his accident, as he had also received minor head injuries. He enjoyed Quatre reading to him, as he was better able to concentrate on a sound than a sight.

As Heero left the place late in the evening, he wondered why he felt so light at heart. So he had gained two friends, and had a relaxing day, but why did that make so much of a difference to him?

Hope you liked it. I'll probably update it soon; I have plenty of time on my hands at the moment. And no, I'm not telling you what pairings this will end up. That'd take all the fun away.