Paper Cranes
by: Karin-sama
shinigamis_wings@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Sadly none of the characters used in this fic belong to me, and the other concept used was taken from that little children's story, "The Thousand Paper Cranes." But it is rather enjoyable for me to put them together.

Notes/Warnings: Angst! I don't know if its all that sad or not, but I'd like to think that it is. I had to do a lot of research on the subject. I take care of a lady who has this disease so I think I can bring this down to a more personal level. Everything that happens to Duo in this fic, happened to this lady. Oh, and time line wise I guess this takes place after Endless Waltz. It makes things easier to have them old enough to be on their own and able to get driver's licenses and so forth.

"And someday we'll fly in another plane
on the back of a lucky paper crane."
~Ancient Japanese rhyme used by close friends at funerals


"Hurry up, Duo, or we'll be late," Heero informed the other pilot, tapping softly on the door. Out of the five of them Duo was one of two who might actually have a good time. The war was finally over and therefore a celebration had been prepared to honor those who had survived it. It was a night that Heero could just as well go without, but as a Gundam pilot, protocol required he be present.

He counted a full minute in his mind before opening the door just enough to poke his head in. He figured that the braided boy had fallen asleep, forgetting completely about that evening's social gathering. He was just preparing both a chastizement for Duo about his irresponsibility and an excuse as to why they were going to be late, when he realized that he was not on the bed. Surprisingly, when he entered he found the room unnaturally clean despite the fact that Duo had lived there for two days and absent one Gundam pilot.

"Duo-san?" He called out, shutting the door behind him. He had to be here, there simply was no possible way for even Shinigami to sneak out without alerting Heero Yuy's acute senses. A small shout of frustration coming from the bathroom told him that he was correct, Duo was still here. Raising an eyebrow, Heero knocked once before entering. Duo stood in tuxedo attire, well from the waist down, anyway, in front of the mirror. He was apparently trying to button up the dazzling white dress shirt. His usually graceful fingers slid around the round bit of plastic uselessly while he bit his lower lip in concentration.

"Konban wa, Heero," he muttered, still fiddling with the button. "Sorry I'm taking so long. I'll be ready in a minute, I promise."

"Heero! Duo! Oh, here you are." Quatre walked inside, straightening his tie as he did so. Tuxedos and Quatre were a very charming mix. It would be Quatre that would handle most of the conversation that night while his fellow pilots would try to remain unnoticed in corners and along walls. "Oye Duo, we're going to be late."

"I know it. I'm trying, okay?"

"I'm going to make sure the limo doesn't leave without us," Heero murmured, brushing past Quatre and out of the room. Duo sighed, going back to his complicated buttons. Brow furrowed in confusion and worry, Quatre saw that Duo's hands were trembling with effort.

"What's wrong, Duo?" He asked, taking another step toward him. The other boy gave a short bark of a laugh, allowing his hands to drop to his sides.

"Guess I'm just nervous is all. Fancy parties aren't really my scene."

"Want some help?" Duo looked agonized for a brief moment before locking the smile back in place.

"If you would, I don't want to make us late, but I really don't fit in with these posh crowds." Quatre took it upon himself to fix Duo's shirt and cufflinks and do up his tie.

"Nonsense," he assured as he worked, ignoring Duo's slight squirm as he tucked the shirt into the loose black slacks. "You'll be fine. No one will even be paying attention to you after the first speech."

"Gee, that's rather humbling." Quatre shrugged.

"It's true. There, you're done, now let's get going before Heero decides to leave without us after all." Duo nodded, starting forward, or at least he tried to. Quatre only barely caught his arm to steady him while his other hand grabbed onto the sink.

"Duo!" Like the soldier he was, Quatre immediately shifted under Duo's arm to support him. "What is wrong with you? No one expects you to be there if you aren't feeling well, you know." Duo pulled away from the other, shaking his head.

"I'm okay, lost my balance for a second, but I'm fine. Let's go." Deathscythe's pilot took a tentative step, to make sure he was capable of motion, before half jogging out to the waiting limo with a concerned Quatre following close behind.

Heero gave Duo a glance as the braided boy slid into the seat next to him and pulled the door closed. It was a huge limo, it had to be for all five of them to ride in it, but Duo still chose to sit next to the perfect soldier. It seemed to Heero that he could never go anywhere without the other pilot, but somehow that didn't annoy him as much as he thought it would.

"Finally," he muttered, signalling the driver that they were ready to go.

"Gomen Heero. I --" He waved at him not to say anything, and received a disapproving glance from Quatre in the process. The blonde mouthed the word "gently" before Trowa engaged him in whispered conversation. Heero shrugged, looking over at the unnaturally quiet Duo, finding him staring down at his right hand, slowly clenching and unclenching his fingers. It was unusual behavior. Any other time he would be chattering excitedly about that night's party, or about anything else for that matter. The only sounds to be heard were the rumble of the car engine and the muted whispers of Trowa. For the first time in his life, Heero felt pressed to say something just to banish the silence.

"Will Hilde be there?" He asked in a soft voice. Duo's lips curled up in a slight smile as he concentrated on his hand.

"Probably," was all he said. Of course she would be there, everyone would be. Heero had just asked to give him something to talk about, but he had fallen back into his previous mute attitude. It was just odd. It was so out of character that Heero found himself unnerved. He studied the boy out of the corner of his eye lest Duo think that he was staring at him. He looked very tired and a little depressed, though why he would be depressed Heero had no idea. Just before he could say something else, the limo pulled to a stop in front of Relena's home where the party was being held. The five boys stepped outside, staring upward at it as the limo drove away.

The Peacecraft home was huge. Mansion and castle were the only adjectives that could describe it and be anywhere close to being correct. It stood four stories high, surrounded by gardens and fountains, with several tower rooms and many balconies. In the coming darkness of night, the lights in every window made it glow almost supernaturally and from where they stood, they could hear the muted music and laughing that was taking place inside. Each giving the others a glance they started up the steps, preparing themselves for a long night of being social.

"Heero-kun!" Relena cried out cheerfully coming to greet them as they walked in. "I was beginning to think you woudn't make it. Konban wa Quatre," she shook hands all around, smiling radiantly. "Though I would understand why you wouldn't want to come. Trowa, Catherine has been looking for you. The last I saw her she was upstairs with Hilde," she paused to give Duo a wink. "Oh, and Wufei, there's someone who I'd like you to meet. He's been boasting that he could beat you in a martial arts match, so naturally I had to correct him. . . " Heero tuned out and looked around. It was a lovely house, filled with expensive draperies, grand pianos, and chandeliers. Livery clad servants carried glasses of champagne and trays of hors d' oeuvres for any who cared to partake. Chairs were placed here and there, and several groups lounged in them, talking, drinking, and laughing. He felt Relena place a hand lightly on his arm.

She had really grown up throughout this war and her presence was no longer detestable to him as it once was. In fact, she had become quite tolerable and at times, almost pleasant.

"Stick with me," she whispered softly in his ear. "And I'll protect you from having to talk much with anyone." And at times, she was even enjoyable.

"Arigato." He favored her with a brief smile that set her eyes spakling with pleasure. It made her very pretty, he realized. Together they entered the crowd who had surrounded them to see the pilot of the Gundam that had saved their lives.

"Ah, Hilde, there you are," Quatre said coming up to her. It hadn't taken as long as he'd thought to find her. The incredible youth of the pilots stood out drastically amidst the older politicians. Besides, Hilde was standing with Catherine, and together they were not easy to miss. He had to remind himself, twice, that Hilde belonged to Duo and Catherine was off limits as well. Trowa slipped from his place behind the Arabian to stand beside the other circus performer. Hilde turned to reguard who had addressed her, the dark green silk gown she wore swishing ever so slightly with the movement.

"Konban wa, Quatre," she smiled at him, reaching out with a gloved hand to greet him properly with a handshake. "Is Duo with you?" Although neither one of them would admit it out loud, it was rather evident as to what they felt for each other.

"Yes, he's here, but I wanted to speak with you about him first." Her smile dropped as she considered him with serious expression.

"What about him?"

"I don't know. He might be just tired, or there might be something else, but he was having some problems moving a while ago so I just wanted to be sure you knew about it." She nodded.

"I'll take care of him. If I ever find him that is."

"Thanks." He nodded, leaving her to her previous conversation with Catherine, but when she turned around she found Catherine and Trowa holding hands with their heads together. It made her smile, but it also made her rather lonely. The closest she had ever gotten to Duo was when he had carried her out of her mobile suit the day she had brought Libra's data to them. But that was because he had to, there was no way she could have walked on her own. That had been the only time he had been truly serious with her, and she hadn't even been conscious enough to enjoy it. It made her sigh, then reprimand herself for it. She didn't need him, really. But still, it would be nice if he were to. . .

"Egao," a voice whispered close to her ear. "This is your party, after all." Fingers trailed softly down her arms and she turned around to face the exact person who she had hoped would be behind her.

"Duo," she greeted, unable to help herself from smiling and only barely able to keep herself from giggling. Looking up, she noticed that Quatre was right. He looked very tired, but he was grinning as usual.

"That's better," he told her, taking her hand and twirling her around to inspect her from all angles. "Pretty girls in new dresses look best when they are smiling." Duo had a natural flare for flirting that she found most charming. "Save a dance for me?"

"Can't. They're all taken." She was just teasing with him. They had most fun with each other when they teased. Besides, Duo had difficulty with being serious. He raised his hand as if he were going to snap his fingers, then frowned, staring at them, and finally lowered his arm to his side with a small sigh.

"Is something wrong?" The grin snapped back in place as he raised his eyes back to hers.

"I've just been turned down by the prettiest girl in the place, my night is shot, and yet she asks me if something is wrong. I think I'll turn myself over to the politicians' wives and end it all." She didn't acknowledge the joke. There would be no going off track this time.

"The truth, Duo, you know you can tell me the truth." He visibly sagged, finally dropping his forced smile. It made him look exhausted.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, not tonight." His smile flashed into place before she could really study his eyes to see what pain was written there. While Duo was sometimes a joy to be with, his constant cheerfulness could get frustrating when one was trying to determine if he was all right.

"Duo --" A faint tinkling sound cut through the laughter and talk, commanding silence and attention before Hilde could finish what she had wanted to say. Deathscythe's pilot turned to the source of the noise, ignoring Hilde. Frowning, she also focused on Relena Peacecraft, standing in the center of the main room, apparently preparing to make a toast.

"Attention," she called in the voice of the queen that she was. "Could I get everyone's attention please?" All sound stopped short, staring at the young girl who glowed with the beauty of youth in her white dress. She held a fancy glass filled with one non-alcoholic beverage or another and smiled perfectly. "Just a quick reminder on why we're all here tonight and then I'll leave you to forget again." That received a soft snicker from Duo, and a few other half attempts at laughter from the politicians. Relena's smile deepened before continuing. "We're here to honor this boy," she turned slightly to beam at Heero who stood a little behind her. He stood at attention; his hands folded neatly in front of him and his head down in humility. Well, what everyone would take for humility. There was nothing humble about Heero. He was nothing but soldier from his unruly brown hair to his shiny dress shoes. However, Hilde clapped for him anyway along with the rest. She didn't know him very well, but what she did know was that he made her very uneasy. "We're here to honor him, and his companions who have fought so hard to give us peace. I give you Heero Yuy." Applause echoed through the house, and Heero, for Relena's sake, made the crowd a bow before stepping back into the shadow of the queen. "Could the other pilots come up here and join us?" Relena called out as the clapping died down.

"That's my cue," Duo murmured, giving Hilde a coquettish wink before beginning to elbow his way to stand beside Heero. He really didn't have to elbow, most stepped back in awe, making an easy aisle.

That was why it was so strange when he tripped and fell.

Although Hilde was as fast as she possibly could be, her clumsy skirt made Heero that much quicker. By the time she reached Duo's side, Heero already had an arm around his shoulders, helping him to sit up. Kneeling, she took the American's hand, staring at him intently.

"What happened?" Heero demanded coldly as she was saying, "Are you all right?" The other guests of the party crowded round to inspect the boy still on the floor with a dazed and exhausted expression on his face.

"He's fine," the Japanese pilot snapped, whipping his head around, trying to glare at everyone at once. "Leave him be; he's fine." Even though the words were meant to reassure, it was the fierce eyed stare that made most people step away. Relena attempted to draw attention away from the incident, smiling prettily and trying to make a joke.

"I've called your limo," she whispered through grinning jaws as Heero pulled Duo to his feet. "It's waiting out front for you. Take him home." Then she took a politician by the arm and led him away so the pilots could escape the building unmolested.

"Come on Duo," Hilde encouraged as Heero slid his arm about his shoulders to aid his walking. "You need sleep." The boy shook his head, closing his eyes. For a moment he looked torn between saying something and keeping a secret.

"I can't," he finally said in a voice barely audible. "I can't move my legs." Hilde gave a frightened glance at Heero, but he appeared to be paying attention to something else and not listening. But he must have heard because he picked the other pilot up and marched hurriedly out to the waiting limo, leaving Hilde behind.

"Don't leave him," a voice whispered in her ear. She turned around quickly to find Quatre gazing at her, worry impressed in his face. "Heero is too cold for him right now. He needs to be dealt with gently." Nodding, she gathered her skirts in one hand and ran after, jumping in the car just as it was pulling away. Heero gave her a look, but didn't say anything. He never said anything.

"What happened in there, Duo?" She asked the still dazed looking pilot. He reguarded her with oddly haunted eyes before shrugging helplessly.

"I don't know. I just. . "

"Have you been sleeping?" He licked his lips and nodded. "Were you dizzy, or did you trip on something?"

"Hilde," it was Heero who said her name in a quick short burst of command. She turned her attention from Duo to consider him. She didn't know that he knew her name. "He's fine." She bit her lip, understanding that he wanted her to leave Duo alone. In three words he had said much more. -- Leave him alone, Hilde. He doesn't need to be badgered by you right now, Hilde. You're not his mother, Hilde. I'm going to take care of him, Hilde. He doesn't need you, Hilde -- Heero said all this. . .in only three words.

Duo sighed in the attitude of a small child, and rested his head against Heero's shoulder. The Japanese pilot gave him a slight glance, and Hilde couldn't be sure in the dark of the limo, but there might have been a slight smile as well.

"We need to take him to be examined, Heero," she said once Duo's cobalt blue eyes were closed. "He said he couldn't move his legs. You heard him say it. That's not natural. He might have an injury that we haven't noticed. We can't ignore that." He stared at her, freezing her in place with his ice cold eyes.

"I said he's fine."

"But you don't know that. How do you know what he feels?"

"Enough." She bit her lips, looking out the window, but she had no choice but to be silent. Heero was in charge here. The problem was that he was too harsh. He didn't understand that not everyone was like him. Duo was a Gundam pilot, and to Heero's eyes that meant that he could handle pain. Duo was his friend, and that meant that it was difficult for Heero to admit that something might be wrong with him.

Hilde had hoped that Heero would stop at the hospital, but it just didn't happen. The limo pulled to a halt in front of Duo's apartment, issued to him by the government after the war was over. She'd never been here before, but neither had Duo really. He'd spent the last few days in the large housing complex with the rest of the returned soldiers, not ready to get on with his life just yet.

Heero carried the apparently sleeping Shinigami up the front steps of the building, Hilde following after, determined not to be left behind or ignored. All along the trek up to Duo's new home she would gather her courage to speak, get to the point where she would just open her mouth, and then make the mistake of looking at Heero. Then her words would scatter into an undefined squeak of sound and she'd have to start all over. No wonder he was such a good soldier. He had the power of a cobra, able to paralyze with a glance. Eventually Hilde just gave up on the idea of communication, simply allowing her protests of Heero's indifference to shoot up in her head like angry firebursts.

Duo's apartment was dead as they entered. Cookie cutter couches and chairs made familiar shadows in the moonlight. There was one photograph on the wall, compliments of the building, in which a guardian angel hovered protectively over a brother and sister as they hurried across a bridge. In all the living room there was only one thing that even remotely reminded her of Duo. The crisp new Bible that lay atop the coffee table. Even that was too new, the pages free of pencil notes and dog ears. She politely sat down on the couch as Heero carried his friend into the bedroom, helping him out of his suit. She could hear the soft murmur through the door that she recognized as Duo's soft chatter. A low rumble let her know that Heero was at least replying to something. She turned her attention back to the Bible, left here by the building administration, like the picture on the wall. What did they know of her Duo? They used him as a tool to fight their war, and then they leave him here alone with nothing but a picture and a never-before-read Bible. As Heero came skulking out of the bedroom she thought with sudden revelation. This apartment would fit much better with him.

She stood as he shut the door, intent on speaking to Duo alone for a moment, without his interference. But he stood before it guardedly, more effective than locks, bolts, and fortress walls.

"Come on," he commanded in monotone, starting past her toward the door.

"I'll just be a minute." She raised her hand, as if in defense, almost grabbing the bedroom doorknob before his voice again cut her motions short with its coldness. Frozen words to freeze action. Very effective of you, Heero.

"I said let's go." If she had the power she would have defied him. If she had the courage she would have told him her mind right there and then, but Heero alone in the dark, eyes glowing like those of some carnivorous animal on the hunt, was more frightening than anything else. In the end she knocked twice on Duo's door, calling into him that she would come back in a little while, after she had gone home to change her clothes. He made no reply, but the fact that she had been able to do anything while being stared at like that was a triumph in itself.

She followed Heero down to the patiently waiting limo. Nothing was said after Heero instructed the driver to take Hilde home, which surprised her. She hadn't known that he knew where she lived. The drive to her apartment was occupied only with her thoughts on what else Heero knew about her, and how he knew them. It unnerved her to think that he knew more about her than she knew about him. Why, she didn't even know his real name, let alone where he lived. They exchanged no pleasant good-bye's even though he politely escorted her up to the front steps of the building. She was about to say something, but he bowed and hurried away before she had figured out what she had wanted to tell him. All the better. She didn't think he really wanted to listen to what she was thinking of anyway.

Her evening finery was put off quickly, laid out on the bed because she just couldn't find the hanger she had discarded in her hurry to get ready earlier. She slipped into a sweater and jeans, pulling her beret on and grabbing her bicycle so she could get to Duo's building all the faster. It wasn't far, lucky for her, or else she would have had to call a taxi. . .not her favorite mode of transport.

Throughout the quiet ride she lost herself in worry over Duo. What was wrong with him anyway? He'd said he was getting enough sleep. There must be something else. An injury that he'd ignored in order to keep fighting, in the manner of soldiers. That must be it. Something that could be easily fixed with a quick trip to a hospital. Decided, her worry slipped away and she simply enjoyed the moonlight and the breeze over her face as she propelled the bicycle through the night.

The door to Duo's apartment was still unlocked when she arrived. Heero must have forgotten to lock it when they left. No, she corrected that thought, he didn't forget. He left it open for her because he knew that she would come right back. For once he had given her a break.

"Duo?" She called softly as she guided her bicycle into the warm darkness of the place. She propped it behind the couch, giving the Bible on the table a glance. There was just something about that book that she found out of place. It just looked as though it didn't belong, even though there wasn't a bit of dust on the coffee table, there weren't any stains on the carpet. Yet it still looked too clean to be there. She frowned, picking it up and carrying it with her into the coolness of Duo's new bedroom.

The window was open, and a ceiling fan hummed softly, circulating the air in refreshing currents. The moonlight revealed a plain dresser to match the plain twin bed. There were no pictures here, the only thing out of place was a box in the corner filled with Duo's personal belongings. Duo himself was stretched out on the bed, the sheet kicked down to tangle around his knees. He looked perfectly fine, peaceful and healthy. But looks can be deceiving, Hilde reminded herself as she stepped close. He also didn't look like a soldier or the God of Death. Actually, he didn't look real with the moonlight shining on him like it was.

She settled herself crosslegged on the floor at the edge of the bed, leaning against the side for support. The Bible lay cool and heavy on her thigh. She had meant to speak with Duo, but she didn't want to wake him when he looked so completely content.

"Hilde? Kind of dark to be reading in here isn't it?" Came a surprised throaty voice from above. She twisted quickly to see Duo peering sleepily over the side of the bed, propped up on one elbow.

"I really wasn't reading. I came here to see you actually." That got a soft snicker as Duo shifted to his back to stare up at the ceiling fan.

"I knew you wouldn't let me out of that dance." She'd forgotten all about that. Shaking her head, she pushed herself up from the floor to perch on the bed, looking down at Duo's gently smiling face.

"You scared me," she whispered to him, watching his smile fade. He slid an arm under his head, his eyes following the motions of the fan. "What's the matter with you, Duo?"

"I don't know," he sat up to be eye level with her, perfectly comfortable with her sitting on his bed in the middle of the night, his gaze very serious for a change. "You don't have to worry about it, all right?"

"I'm still making a doctor's appointment for you." He grinned.

"I just went through all that!" He protested, turning on his side. "They ran me through the works before they would allow me back into civilized society! You want me to do it again?"

"Well, they missed something." He sighed dramatically, shifting back down, though closer to her than he had been. His hand reached out to lay atop the Bible, his fingers barely touching hers.

"Don't read this," he told her, tapping it gently. "This one doesn't know what it's talking about. It's had no experience." His words were nothing but a sleepy murmur, and she wondered if he really knew what he was saying. The Bible giving misinformation? Had his faith in everything dropped so low?

"What do you mean, Duo?" She couldn't stop herself from asking, though his breathing had gone soft and even, in the manner of sleep. "No experience?" But he was already asleep. She fought the urge to kiss him good night and hurried out of his room lest she be tempted and wake him up again. True, she was curious as to what he meant, if indeed it meant anything, but midnight wasn't usually a great time to have a conversation.

She curled up on the living room couch, taking a minute to shift into a comfortable position on the hard, brand-new cushions. With the Bible in her lap she stretched backward to click the lamp on, settling a dim yellow glow over everything. Don't read it, eh? How does a Bible get experience? Shouldn't the words in it remain unchanged from one copy to another? She shook her head, snickering at herself for even thinking about it. Of course they were all the same. She leafed through the thin pages, skimming the chapters and verses, immersing herself in the old language and phrasing. The stiff, formal wording making her drowsy as it always did, even when she was in Sunday School back when she was seven. Her eyes closed in the middle of the twenty-third Psalm, and she dreamt of Duo wandering through the valley of the shadow of death, lost because he was reading the book that had had no experience. It was not a very good dream.


It was Heero, not Duo, who awoke her the next morning, shaking her shoulder roughly. It was the only way he knew how. She stared at him curiously for a moment, wondering where she was and why he was there with her.

"Come on, or we'll be late," he was saying in his cold monotone. "I'm going to get Duo."

"Late for what, Heero?" She called after him.

"Duo's doctor appointment." She stared at him, hard. He'd made an appointment?

"But. . .but I thought." He gave her a glare that stopped any question.

"You would have made one for him anyway." He shrugged, knocking once on Duo's door before entering the room. So Heero was going to help her with this. That was good. It would be much easier for Duo if Heero were supporting him too. It was probably nothing, but at least she wouldn't have to go behind Heero's back and against his wishes.

Heero reemerged a few minutes later, Duo following obediently. They both looked at Hilde expectantly and she uncurled herself from the couch, ready to accompany them. Heero was the only of the returned Gundam pilots to have been issued a car. Most likely because Wufei had joined the Preventeers and Quatre didn't really need the government to give him a car and Trowa of course had no use for one either since he'd returned to the circus. Duo had refused it politely, probably because he felt oddly about taking something that he didn't really feel that he'd deserved. Hilde didn't know the full reason, but whatever it was, Heero was the only one with free transportation.

The short drive to the hospital was filled with Duo's warm chatter, telling them over and over that he really was fine and all of this was unnecessary and Hilde why are you still carrying that Bible? She blushed, setting it next to her on the seat, not even realizing that she still had it. Heero gave her a glance in the rear view mirror, piloting the vehicle as efficiently as any mobile suit. Duo grinned at her from the front seat, looking exactly the way he always did. It made her wonder if indeed she were over reacting.

Until he tripped again on the way inside. He laughed, picking himself up and excusing it as a dip in the sidewalk, avoiding eye contact with Heero who was studying him carefully. Hilde gave him a concerned look as he took another step up the stairs, eyebrows drawn down in concentration as if he was trying very hard to keep his balance. Heero noticed of course and took his arm, leading him up the stairs. Hilde followed seeing that the sidewalk was perfectly smooth.

Heero ushered Duo inside the cool air conditioned building, ignoring the eyes that looked up from magazines to watch them cross the room to the reception desk. He'd done this too many times to be bothered by what they would think. The woman instructed him to a room where they would wait for Dr. Kogawa. He gave Hilde a glance that warned her to stay in the waiting area. He would go with Duo alone. There was nothing wrong with the dark haired girl, but he didn't want her with him. He felt that he should be the one to go through this with Duo, as they'd gone through everything else together. He knew she just wanted to help, but it was his place for this mission.

Duo dressed in the examination robe and hopped up onto the table while Heero leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and eyes closed. This was procedure, he told himself, glad that Hilde had given him the excuse to make this appointment. Even though he would never admit it to anyone, he was worried about Duo too. The braided pilot looked like a little kid sitting there on that table, swinging his legs absently, or almost absently. There was a look of strained concentration on his face, as if it were a difficult thing to move them. He was about to ask his fellow soldier to confess exactly what was wrong with him when the doctor came into the room.

He was a young man, barely thirty. Heero analyzed him up and down as he smiled and came forward to shake both of their hands. Could he trust this man with the care of his best friend? What kind of a doctor was he? His smile was warm and friendly as he put the stethoscope in his ears and bid Duo to sit up and straight and breathe normally for him.

"What seems to be the problem here?" He asked jovially, in a voice that was supposed to chase away worry and ease stress. He'd probably made people feel better just by asking what was wrong. It made Heero relax slightly. This man would do a good job.

"Difficulty of motion," Heero began in a terse tone, the only one he had. Duo turned his huge eyes on him, grateful eyes. He wanted Heero to do this, taking care of him like this. "Tripping over nothing. Deep fatigue. What about your hands Duo?" Duo looked down, embarrassed. "General clumsiness." Dr. Kogawa gave him a strange look, raising an eyebrow at the short sentences, yet he was paying careful attention to all the details, frowning as he ran through a list of diagnoses in his head as Heero spoke.

"How long have you noticed this?" He went on, moving from Duo's breathing to his reflexes. They were very faint, Heero noticed.

"Yesterday."

"Nothing previous to yesterday?"

"No." The doctor was still looking at him, analyzing what he was saying.

"You're soldiers?" He asked just as a conversation, trying to ease the terseness of Heero's statements.

"Gundam pilots," Heero hadn't meant to say that, but he wanted to make it very clear that Duo was not just naturally clumsy. In fact, Duo possessed a grace of motion that Heero had yet to see surpassed, both in piloting and in general movement. To see him unable to even walk after he had seen him do so much was something very unsettling.

"I see," there was no mistaking the note of awe the doctor spoke with now. "Well, we're going to take a blood test and a biopsy. You'll just wait here," he was speaking to Duo now as if he were a small child, "until the lab nurse comes for this. In the meantime," he gestured to Heero, "if I could talk to you?" Heero nodded, giving Duo what he hoped would be an encouraging look as he walked out of the room. Duo grinned and waved as they left, letting him know that he was all right with this.

"It's a very unusual case," Dr. Kogawa began as they both leaned against the wall outside of the examination room. "I've never heard of it happening to someone so young, but the war might have had something to do with it." Heero said nothing, wanting him to get to the point as the waiting was making him want to grind his teeth. The doctor sighed. "From what you've told me it sounds like the beginning of Parkinson's disease, the lack of coordination and fatigue and so forth. Do you know what this means?" He nodded, not really wanting to hear what that meant out loud. "Anyway, I'll have the tests done to be sure. We should have the results in a few days. I'll find a crutch for him to use so he doesn't hurt himself should he trip. Once we're sure I'll make a perscription to slow the symptom's effect." Heero nodded again, letting this knowledge seep in. "You can wait for him out there. I'll be sure he's taken care of." He muttered his thanks and hurried away from him. Hilde stood up expectantly, wanting to hear what was happening. Her deep blue eyes were sparked with worry and a bit of hope.

"Well?" She whispered, impulsively gripping his arm to make sure he was looking at her. He wondered what it was about her that Duo liked so much. He really didn't know her very well, but she had to be someone interesting to have captured Shinigami's attention.

"They suspect Parkinson's," he said bluntly, not even trying to ease the blow that this meant. She looked at him confused, turning her head to the side as she thought about that.

"There's no cure for that is there?" He heard her whisper.

"No." The word had the same effect as if he had hit her. She winced, and he felt her hand tremble on his arm. Something inside him, something that was still human, something he'd locked away so it wouldn't be taken away from him in the war, told him that he should be performing some act of comfort. But he simply didn't know how. So he stood there, watching her close her eyes in disbelief and stepping back from him, shaking her head in denial.

"They don't know for sure yet do they? It might be a mistake?" He was still determining how best to answer this when Duo came into the waiting area, a crutch under his arm.

"Ready?" He said with false cheerfulness, a bandaid over the iodine stain on his other arm. "They said I could go now." Heero watched as Hilde smiled for his benefit, stepping to his side and taking his hand comfortingly. She didn't say anything just walked with him out to the car. Heero let her do this, letting her take action because he had failed to comfort her. But how could he? He couldn't even comfort his best friend in his deepest time of need, how could he help someone he didn't know?

"I'm not going to die you know," Duo laughed to banish the silence of the tense car ride back to his apartment. "A crutch isn't a death sentence." Hilde smiled at that, the crutch at her elbow in the backseat over the never read Bible. "They'll call us up in a few days and say 'sorry for wasting your time. Guess your friend there is just clumsy.' Cheer up already!" He looked to both of them, waiting for reaction, then slumped down in the seat, reaching over to switch on the radio when he received nothing but pained smiles.

"Will you be staying here with him?" Heero questioned as he stood with her by the car, watching Duo walk into the building with the assistance of the crutch. The fact that he was actually using it was making the situation worse because it was forcing Hilde to believe it was true.

"Of course," she answered, wanting to run from Heero and to Duo's side. "He's not going to want to be alone."

"All right. I'll be around if you need me." So without saying good-bye Heero ducked back into the car and drove off to where ever it was that Heero went when he wasn't with them. Duo heard and turned back to see him leave, frowning slightly.

"Well at least someone wants to stay for lunch," he joked as Hilde came up to him. He didn't want her to worry, she knew, but there was nothing else she could do.

"Yeah, I'll stay. In fact, I'm moving in." He grinned as if that prospect thrilled him beyond words, but she didn't know if it was genuine or not. Together they made their way up to his apartment where Hilde made the first of many meals she would be cooking in Duo's spotless new kitchen with the brand new dishes.

She brought all the personal articles she would need from her apartment late in the afternoon, after they had made the arrangements of what was going to happen, locking it up behind her when she left. Moving in with Duo would be an interesting change of pace, but she wished the circumstances that led to it were different. It would be better if he wanted her to, not just because he needed her to. She hated it.

Duo had dinner waiting for her when she got back, complete with candles he had found somewhere. She gave him a curious look as she put her suitcase next to the couch. What was this supposed to mean? Soft music was playing in the background. Was he trying to be romantic? The crutch was no where to be seen. The candlelight glittered off of his cross as he took her hand to seat her at the new table, serving her a plate of spaghetti.

Surprisingly, he said a prayer over the meal before they began to eat. She'd never heard him pray before. It was odd, yet wasn't odd. With his priest collar and his cross and his Bible she should have expected him to do the simple religious act of blessing food.

"What's all this for, Duo?" She asked curiously after they had said amen.

"It's a 'welcome to my home' dinner. Though you'll probably want to leave after you've sampled it." She snickered.

"Not leave, just cook," she corrected as she tried a forkfull. It wasn't that bad, sure there wasn't enough oregano and the noodles were just slightly undercooked but it was fine in the edible sense of the word. He'd probably never had time to formally practice his culinary skills so she could overlook it. Actually, with Duo, she could overlook just about everything so long as he smiled at her like he was doing over the candles.

"Um, Hilde?" He began as she was helping clear up the dishes afterwards. She didn't turn away from the sinkful of hot water to look at him.

"Yes?"

"If we're going to have that dance I promised you we'd better do it tonight."

"You don't have to do that. I really don't care that much about the dance, Duo." He put his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to turn around and look at his enormous, sad eyes.

"But I care," he confessed very seriously. She dried her hands, searching those melancholy eyes. She understood now. He knew. He knew what was going to happen to him, and he wasn't about to let his life get away from him. He beckoned her to him as he stood ready in the middle of the living room, the only available space that was fit for dancing. The soft music extended through the apartment like tendrils of smoke. He reached for her hand to pull her to him in a dancing stance. Duo was a fantastic dancer, fast or slow, but this time he chose a traditional "hug and sway" method, completely at ease with his hand on her waist and his eyes closed. "We may not get another chance," he whispered, twirling her once before pulling her back close to him. If he had not said that she could have pretended that nothing was wrong. Nothing would ever be wrong, because Duo was in control. Duo was a soldier. Duo was a Gundam pilot. Duo was the God of Death. Duo was so many adjectives, and not one of them had to be "dying" if she closed her eyes and told herself enough that it wasn't true. Her fingers could feel his muscles under his shirt, feel how strong he was. Why, he was even dangerous to a certain effect.

"Hilde? Don't do that, please," his finger slid underneath her eye before she noticed the tears. The dance stopped as he tightened their embrace, encasing her in his strong arms. It wasn't fair. He deserved better. "I can't stand it." She bit her lips, wanting to enjoy his hug and banish the thoughts she was having. He pushed her away, holding her shoulders to look at her. "I'm not going to die, understand?" She nodded, listening to the lonely melody that played throughout the rooms. "It will take more than a blood test to kill me." He grinned of a sudden, letting her go. "Come on, we've got dishes to do." He led the way back to the kitchen. She followed a bit more slowly, looking down at the Bible on the coffee table and wanting to throw it through the window. Duo was right. It didn't know anything of real suffering. It had never been anywhere but on that table in the spotless living room of a silent building where no one had even cared enough to read it.

The next few days passed without event. Heero came up once a day in the morning to check on them, and their evenings were spent with smiles and laughing, trying to chase away the shadows of the future with the jokes of the present. Duo roamed about without the assistance of the crutch, though every once in a while he would have to catch his balance on chairs or walls. It bothered Hilde to see him trembling with effort against a doorframe, but she was determined to stay cheerful to keep his spirits up too. It wouldn't help him a bit if he felt he had to comfort her so she pretended that she did not see him when he tripped over nothing. It would humiliate him if she were to offer her assistance.

The fifth day since Hilde had moved in she was startled out of sleep by a loud thud coming from Duo's bedroom. Concerned she rushed in without bothering to knock finding what she had hoped wouldn't be there. Duo was on the floor by the bed, his legs having failed him once again and a cut on his head where he had struck it against the corner of the dresser. His eyes were closed and his face pale. She knelt at his side, shaking his shoulders in an attempt to wake him, shouting his name and trying to keep the panic out of her voice. His eyes fluttered open, looking up at her without recognition as he tried to sit up, his fingers lightly touching the blood that had seeped from the cut at his temple.

"How uncool," he muttered, using the bed to push himself up, sighing. Hilde watched, helpless, wanting to grab his arm to aid him to stand at least. She thought of bringing him the crutch, but just as she rose from the floor to get it, he fell again.

"Duo," she began, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you'd better give yourself a minute? Wait here." She left the room, wondering where Duo had put that crummy piece of aluminum. She'd just found it leaning at the back of the couch when Heero came in, scaring her almost enough to drop it.

"What happened?" He demanded as he closed the door, his eyes immediately seeing that something was wrong. "Duo?"

"He fell. . .he's in the bedroom." Before she had even finished speaking he was gone, vanished into the still dark room where Duo was still on the floor. Hilde poked her head in just as Heero was gently lifting the other boy in his arms. He was murmuring to him, his tone and words soothing for a change. Hilde didn't understand a word of it, but she knew that Duo could.

"Can you bring me a bandage?" Heero asked, his eyes still on Duo as he lay him on the bed, propping him up against the backboard with a pillow. "And peroxide." She nodded, backing away from the room, still holding the crutch close against her. Heero is here, she told herself. He'll fix everything. He knows what to do. She never thought she would be relieved to see Heero anywhere.

"Just tired," Duo was saying when she returned with the articles that Heero had requested. Heero gave no sign on if he heard or not, but he did take the bandage Hilde offered. The look he shot her made her once again step out of the room, allowing them to be by themselves.

She was thumbing through the Bible, listening for their voices, when the phone rang, making her leap up in surprise. With a hasty glance toward the bedroom, she picked it up.

"Yes?" Her voice was shaking, she noticed. Calm down, Hilde, nothing happened. But it had been a shock.

"Hello? I'm looking for Duo Maxwell. This is Dr. Kogawa." She gripped the phone tightly in both hands.

"You can give me the message. I'll make sure he gets it." There was a hesitancy on the line.

"All right," came the acceptance. "His lab results are in. We've confirmed our Parkinson's diagnosis." The room started spinning. "I've phoned in the perscription to the drug store on Flagg Road. You know it?"

"Yes," she heard herself say, her voice still shaking. "I know where it is."

"You can pick it up anytime today. The instructions are easy, you'll have no trouble following them. I've also arranged for a wheelchair to be there for you."

"Wheelchair? For Duo?" This wasn't happening. It just wasn't happening.

"I know you don't want to hear that, but he is going to need a wheelchair, and from what we can determine from the biopsy the disease is advancing more quickly than I've ever seen before."

"How long --" she choked, unable to finish the question. Saying it out loud would make it real, and she didn't want it to be real.

"I really can't answer that. We've never seen a case like Duo's." From the way he was speaking it sounded like the pilot were winning some sort of prize. It made Hilde furious. "I'm sorry." She hung up without another word, sinking on the couch and trying to silence her crying with her hands.


Heero gently dabbed the peroxide onto the cut on Duo's head. It wasn't very deep, he'd gotten much worse and it hadn't bothered him. Duo flinched, despite the fact that it didn't hurt anymore. He felt inadequate. He was Duo Maxwell! He shouldn't be having problems getting out of bed for heaven's sake.

"What happened?" Heero asked quietly, a tone he never used as he fastened the bandage in place. Duo didn't want to answer. It sounded so ridiculous to say that he couldn't move. Especially while saying it to the master of motion himself. "Duo?" He forced a grin into place, gaining his courage to look Heero in the eyes.

"I . . ." he paused, shaking his head. How could he possibly admit such a weakness to Heero? The boy who never did anything wrong?

"Was it your legs?" He nodded soundlessly, looking down again in humiliation. Heero shifted his attention from Duo's face to his legs, checking them over, his fingers probing gently for hidden injuries. Though it was gentle Duo couldn't help gasping in pain. The skin seemed hyper sensitive to him, each slight touch as painful as if he'd been stabbed or punched. "That hurts?" Heero seemed surprised, but stopped his examination. Far off in the living room the phone ringing could be heard. Hilde's soft voice floated into them. "Better now?" Heero persisted, his gaze ensuring that he would get an answer.

"Yes."

"Try getting up once." Heero moved off the bed gracefully, waiting for Duo to do the same. With great difficulty, Duo was able to swing his legs to the side. They seemed to be ignoring his commands to move. He felt stiff all over, and his head was so heavy he just wanted to lay back down. But he didn't want them to worry so he pushed himself up.

And immediately was on the floor again when his legs refused to support him. He looked up at Heero, who had his arms crossed with a frown of concentration on his face. Without a word the other pilot bent down, taking Duo into his arms and helping him back onto the bed. Duo envied him for his strength and self composition. He himself felt like breaking into tears.

"You're fevered," Heero noted as if to himself while helping Duo under the sheet. "Take a day off and rest up." It sounded like a mission coming from him, but Duo was all too happy to comply.

"Tell Hilde," he said drowsily as Heero gathered up the peroxide. "Tell her not to worry." He nodded, and left Duo alone, asleep before he got to the door.

Hilde was on the couch, curled into a protective ball of denial when Heero came out. He quickly replaced the supplies and sat down next to her, tapping her quickly on the shoulder to gain her attention.

"The phone call?" He prompted, pretending not to see the trails of tears down her cheeks.

"The lab results came back," she whispered in a strained tone. "The perscription is waiting."

"Flagg Road?"

"Yes, the perscription is there. . .and the wheelchair." He nodded, taking it all in stride. The showing of emotion wouldn't do anyone any good anyway. It was all well and good for people like Hilde, but he couldn't allow himself to be weak in that way. Yes, Duo would be needing a wheelchair. Dr. Kogawa was very resourceful.

"I'll get them. Keep an eye on Duo while I'm gone." She looked up with frightened eyes. She looked like she would start sobbing any minute. Not something Heero wanted to go through.

"Is he all right?" The absurdity of the statement almost made him slap her. Of course he wasn't all right. He'd never be all right again. He was dying!

"He," Heero tripped over the words. "He has a fever, but its not anything to be worried over. He said for you not to worry." She nodded, chewing her lower lip. He stood quickly, needing to get out of the apartment. If she started crying he didn't think he'd be able to stand it. This is why everyone thought him cold, and they were right.

How could he possibly be so calm about this? Hilde thought this to herself over and over, even after he had gone. His best friend was slowly dying and he acted as if it didn't matter! His lack of concern made her sorrow ever stronger and she found herself doubled over in sobs once again.

"Hilde?!" Duo's bark of her name stopped her short.

"Do you need something, Duo?" She called, forcing her voice to steady. She didn't want him to see her right now. She had to keep strong for him. He was going to need her.

"Come here, please?" Wiping her eyes fiercely she hoped his room would be dark enough to hide any evidence of her crying. He was sitting up when she entered, his arm outstretched to her. His face was indeed flushed, and his eyes tired. She perched on the bed, waiting to hear what he had to say. "Closer." As she shifted near he put his arms around her. "Don't cry."

"It seems to go against my will, Duo," she forced the joke.

"Baka," he chided gently. "It's better this way, you see?"

"No, I don't see. How can you say that?"

"I always knew that I would die on Earth."

"Shh." She couldn't stand listening to this. He was a soldier. He'd been planning on dying for a long time. He probably felt cheated because it hadn't happened during the war. He hadn't exactly made any plans for the rest of his life, because he'd always figured there wouldn't be any rest of his life. But to go like this was just so wrong to her that she couldn't listen to him mention it. So she stayed close to him, pretending that everything was fine, until Heero came back with the wheelchair and a drug called Artan in its polished orange bottle.

From that day on Duo was forced to use the wheelchair to get around. His legs were completely useless, paralyzed entirely. Hilde forced herself to be cheerful, laughing at his jokes and immersing herself in kitchen duties, trying to come up with more and more elaborate meals just to take her mind off of things. And every night she would search the verses of the book that was supposed to bring comfort to everyone, yet still remained cold and distant to her. As cold and distant as Heero, she always thought when he came in the mornings. The book's stiff sympathy was exactly like Heero as he gruffly went through the motions of helping Duo into the shower, and clothing, and the wheelchair. Duo allowed Heero to help him, but was loathe to let Hilde do anything for his assistance except cook. It grated on her nerves. She found herself looking at him from time to time, wondering why adjectives like caged and trapped and imprisoned came to mind when wheelchairs were supposed to be tools to enable independence.

He got good at manuevering it though. Really good. He took a certain pride in his wheelchair driving abilities. Typical pilot. He'd taken to going to the park in the afternoons, just to get out of the house. Hilde would allow him to do this alone, and while he was gone she would take long relaxing baths or go on cleaning sprees. She bought him some plants, just to take away from the dullness of the apartment. She needed something living in that place, something for her to look at besides the guardian angel who never did her job when it came to real danger, and the inexperienced Bible. The lifestyle set in, and was just beginning to be normal, until the night that Duo didn't come home.

Dinnertime came and went and Hilde grew worried. Medication time came and went and Hilde grew frightened. Bedtime came and went and Hilde grew hysterical. She paced, cursing herself over and over again for not going with him, thinking of the most dreadful things. What if he'd been hit by a car? What if he'd been robbed? What if he'd fallen? What if and a thousand times what if. The longer she waited for him, the more terrible grew the circumstances for why he was late. Toward eleven she gave in and phoned Heero. He had a right to know anyway. Within minutes, really, Hilde didn't think it took him but three to get there, he was standing at the door demanding to know how long Duo had been gone.

"Did he say where he was going?" The gruffness with which the questions were asked made her even more frightened.

"He didn't say, but he usually goes to the park. He likes to watch the children." Heero nodded, storing the data for future reference.

"I'm going to go look for him. Stay here in case he comes back." She wrung her hands anxiously for a long time after the door was closed. She'd never been more worried about him than she was now. And that included every time he had gone off to battle in the Deathscythe. She paced about the house, not really knowing what to do with herself, thinking of what might have happened to him. In the end she looked down at the coffee table, at the Bible, and that brought her to her knees in fervent prayer. Please, she kept repeating over and over, meaning it more every time. Please bring him back safely. I can't lose him yet. Please. Let Heero find him. Oh God, please!


Heero fell into his usual stealth gait as he entered the darkened park grounds, searching for signs of Duo. It was deserted and lonely, not even a stray dog to be seen anywhere. Whatever had happened to Shinigami, he was not here. Heero knew he should be searching for a body, just in case, his soldier's instincts telling him that's what he needed to do, but the fact that it would be Duo's body made the task impossible. There must be somewhere else. He tested his logic. Usually there was always one place where someone could always be found. For Wufei it was a garden. If one was seeking Quatre one need only go to the nearest piano. If Trowa was the one you were looking for, he could almost always be found at the circus. And if Duo was being tracked down, one need only listen for the vesper bells of the nearest church.

It turned out to be a marvelous Catholic, gothic structure eight blocks away, but the candles were still burning through the windows. It was worth a check anyway. Heero's entry blew out a few of those candles, and an elderly man wearing the robes of the priesthood came forth bearing a light to rekindle them. Upon seeing Heero he bade him welcome and did he need any assistance?

"I'm looking for a boy," Heero said curtly as the old priest relit the candles. "A young man with long braided hair. He's in a wheelchair. Did he come here?" The old man paused, thinking.

"Why, he's still here I believe," he said at last. "I left him before the alter, but he kept calling me Father Maxwell." Heero blinked. Father Maxwell had been dead for several years. "Do you know the lad? I've been wondering if someone were coming to get him or not. He seemed quite confused."

"How so?"

"He can't seem to remember where he lives, or I would have taken him home myself. He can't tell me anything except that his name is Duo and he already is home."

"I'll take care of him. Thank you, Father."

"He'll be all right, won't he?" The man called after him. Heero didn't answer, but inside his mind he knew that no, he wouldn't be all right. Never again.

The candles in the main chapel covered everything like golden dust. Duo was there, in that golden haze, looking very priestlike himself. His eyes were closed, a bemused expression on his face. His hands were clasping onto his cross tightly, his whole attitude suggesting one of prayer.

"Duo," Heero called, hoping to break this trance. He turned, seeing Heero behind him and manuevering the wheelchair around. His eyes were suddenly brimming tears.

"Oh Solo," he was barely able to say the words. "I'd always wanted you to see this place. Have you met with Father Maxwell?" His speech began to pick up speed, and he blinked rapidly to prevent any tears. "I bet he'd let you stay here too. Isn't it beautiful here? I'd introduce you to Sister Helen, but I can't seem to find her. She's so pretty, Solo, I wish you could meet her."

"Duo," Heero cut in softly, coming to kneel before the chair and shaking his head. "I'm not Solo." Duo looked at him as if he were stupid, then the expression deepened into one of intense confusion. It was as if Heero had hit him. But he was used to getting those looks from other people all the time, his words always had the same effect as a carefully placed punch. But the fact that it was Duo made something inside him ache. "My name is Heero." Duo nodded slowly, repeating the name in a soft voice.

"And that wasn't Father Maxwell, was it?"

"No Duo. Father Maxwell is dead." The first tear escaped before Duo could blink it away, and he wrenched the chair around so that Heero wouldn't see him crying. But Heero knew he was, of course.

"I remember. The church burned, didn't it?" Heero deemed this question rhetorical. "And Sister Helen, and . .." the voice broke, the shoulders shook as Duo bent double, sobbing as he relived the horrible day when the only home he'd ever known had been destroyed. It was a nasty thing to have to endure twice, but Heero didn't know how to help him. He awkwardly put a hand on his friend's shoulder for a moment, allowing him to cry in silence. "Oh Heero," Duo began after a while, taking in a shuddering breath. "I got lost," he confessed, smiling sheepishly even though tears were still dripping down his face. "I couldn't remember how to get home. I. ..I was scared." Heero knew that he should be doing something to help him, something to comfort him, something to make him feel better. But he couldn't. He just didn't know how.

"It's fine," he eventually muttered, steering the chair away from the holy light of the candles. "I'll help you get home."

"I got lost, Heero," Duo repeated the phrase as if he couldn't believe it had actually happened, putting stress on every word. "I got lost. Do you know what that feels like?" Yes, Heero thought as he nodded to the good father who had opened the door for them. Yes, I've been lost for a very long time, Duo, ever since I was born.

The trip back to the apartment was quick, and Hilde leaped up from her knees as he opened the door, launching herself at Duo before a word was spoken. She held his face in her hands, running her fingers through his hair before bringing them down to cling to his outstretched palm.

"Thank God," she kept saying, tears of gratitude and relief dripping onto their intertwined hands. "Oh, thank you God."

"Hilde?" Duo grabbed her and pulled her into an awkward hug. "Don't," he soothed. "Not for me."

"It's not for you, it's for me," she smiled fondly at him, at his concerned expression. "You're all right?" He nodded, looking down. "You sure?"

"Yeah," he raised his head sharply. "Yes," he said again softer this time. "I'm fine."

"I'll help you into bed," Heero broke into their reunion. Hilde gave him a look, a questioning look. He'd have to tell her where he'd found him in a minute, and what had happened. She deserved to know. He left her waiting patiently in the kitchen as he wheeled Duo into his room.

"I hate that," Duo hissed when they were out of hearing. Heero just looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate. "I don't want her sympathy. I want her to be happy to see me just because I'm there, not because she was afraid for my life."

"She doesn't know what else to feel for you, Duo," Heero tried to explain the emotion that he wasn't feeling, hoping to get the words right. "She wants to protect you."

"I'm the one who was supposed to be protecting her. This is. .." he cut short, trying to think of what he wanted to say. "This is like Relena taking Wing Zero because she'd be afraid that you would hurt yourself. Does that make any sense at all?" Heero didn't answer right away, getting a strange amusement from thinking of Relena in a mobile suit.

"I suppose it does," he finally said, shaking the image out of his mind and helping Duo out of his clothes, his movements deft and quick.

"Even this," Duo sputtered, annoyed with himself more than anything. "You doing this is almost more than I can take."

"If you could do it yourself I wouldn't be doing it."

"Exactly!" Duo shouted, then brought his voice back down to the frustrated hiss so he wouldn't worry Hilde. "And the fact that I can't do it is infuriating. You have no idea how humiliating it is to realize that you can do very little for yourself. And no idea how frightening it is when you realize that you can't even remember how to get home from a park that is three blocks away. I'm losing myself, Heero, by degrees." There was nothing he could say to him now because it was all true. And it wasn't exactly like it was going to get any better.

"Go to sleep," Heero commanded roughly, unable to say anything else. "It will look better in the morning." It was a false promise, but anything to lull him into silence was worth a try. Duo sighed, pulling his legs up to his chest with his hands and closing his eyes.

"I wish," he murmured, but what he wished was lost in the ear of the pillow. Heero shook his head, and left him alone to his wishes.


Instead of going to Hilde, Heero went first to the telephone. He dialed the doctor's number, knowing he would get a receptionist but not caring. Hilde watched him from the doorway, leaning against it like a small, sad child who has just come awake from some hideous nightmare. A strange voice on the other end picked up and asked him what he needed.

"There has been a mistake in diagnosis," Heero reported quickly. "In the case of Duo Maxwell. Another test needs to be performed."

"I'll let Dr. Kogawa know. Is two thirty tomorrow afternoon suitable for your next appointment?"

"Satisfactory. Thank you." He hung up, finally turning to see Hilde's questioning dark eyes.

"What do you mean, mistake in diagnosis?" She asked immediately, surprising him as he was expecting a different question.

"If he were truly suffering from Parkinson's the medication wouldn't have had the effect that it did."

"What effect was that?"

"Loss of memory." Her mouth opened in a shocked "oh" and she shook her head.

"So he was lost? He couldn't remember how to get home?"

"Right. I found him in a church thinking it was the one where he grew up."

"Oh, poor Duo. To have to go through that, and he was all alone." She gave a concerned look to the closed door of the bedroom, still shaking her head. "But Heero, if it's not Parkinson's, what is it?" He shrugged.

"Well figure it out. I'll be back in the morning."

Hilde watched Heero leave, as always. He was so calm! His eyes never shimmered with a helpless tear. He never broke down, always thinking with cool logic. She envied his endurance. If only she could be that strong, for Duo if anything, but she simply hurt too much to ignore it. Did he hurt? Did he feel anything? He must or he wouldn't care to come and help. He would just leave him to his fate.

She slumped down on the couch, automatically picking up the Bible. Her hands shook as she thumbed through the pages. Eventually she let them fall where ever they wanted, and read where they had fallen open. "Thy trials shall be for thy good," was the first verse she read. "Thy suffering but a moment." Duo's suffering was not going to be for a moment, she thought bitterly. If he had to die, why couldn't it have been merciful and quick? In the heat of a battle, not this slow torture. Her hands trembled ever harder, the words shaking under her tearfilled eyes. Her last thought before she fell into a fitfull sleep was that the noise the Bible had made when she threw it at the wall hadn't been loud enough to wake up Duo.

"So what makes you doubt the diagnosis?" Dr. Kogawa asked when once again Duo was on the examination table and Heero was leaning against the wall. Duo's eyes were fixed on the ground, Heero could tell he was determined not to pay attention to the fact that they were discussing him as if he weren't there.

"Artan does not cause memory loss in Parkinson's patients," he said very calmly. Duo flinched.

"That's correct, but I thought we'd already determined that Duo's is a special case."

"But he's not experiencing tremor either." Another flinch. "I thought that was typical of all
Parkinson's cases." The doctor paused, thinking that over.

"Perhaps you're right," he said eventually. "I think we'll do a PRI and see what happens. A mistake might have been made. It shouldn't take very long."

Duo was taken to a lab deep in the labyrinth that makes all hospitals while Heero waited with Hilde. She wasn't taking it very well. She paced with her hands on her hips, and when she did sit down she would knot and unknot the tie at the bottom of her shirt.

"What do you think they're doing to him?" She would ask once every so often. He'd just look at her without a response and she would resume her pacing.

Two hours later Dr. Kogawa came into the waiting area, Duo was nowhere to be found. Hilde jumped to attention, wanting to know what was going on while Heero got to his feet more slowly. He raised his eyebrow as a signal for the doctor to begin.

"You were right," the young man admitted, waving a file that meant absolutely nothing. "It is a misdiagnosis."

"And have you come to any other conclusions?" Heero wanted to know, folding his arms. Hilde looked hopeful. Heero wasn't getting any of his hopes up. Whatever Duo had it was still very serious, and he didn't think that it would be getting better any time soon. Dr. Kogawa nodded slowly, giving an apologetic look Hilde's way.

"We've discovered some hardening of the spinal cord tissue," he explained to which Heero nodded, but Hilde looked confused. "This indicates Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis." Hilde's eyes opened twice as wide as they normally were at such an enormous disease. "Or Lou Gehrig's disease in simpler terms." Heero nodded. He knew what that meant.

"What's going to happen now?" Hilde piped up in a tiny voice.

"Well, he's going to start losing all of his motor skills. It's already started in the legs. It will soon progress to the hands and arms and so forth, shutting down the muscles."

"He'll be paralyzed?" She seemed horrified. "Completely paralyzed?"

"That's the usual case."

"Is there a cure? A way to stop it? Reverse it? He can't be paralyzed for the rest of his life.
He'll go mad!" The doctor sighed.

"It might not happen that way," he said. "It may shut down the heart before he becomes completely immobile. There is no way to tell for certain." Hilde was now shaking her head, close to tears.

"He. . .he's going to die?" Dr. Kogawa just nodded.

"There are some pills," he began, but Hilde broke in.

"No more pills," was all she had to say, but the tone made her authority unquestioned. Heero knew that Duo would have said the exact same thing. "Have. . have you told him?" She added to bring the focus away from her outburst.

"He's been informed, yes. He wanted me to explain it to you." Heero knew he should be feeling something with this news, but it was simply that. . news. All soldiers are condemned to death, and he'd been prepared for that from the very beginning. Still, it didn't matter to Hilde, who stared at him accusingly. She probably thought he didn't care at all, but he did. He just couldn't show it.

Duo was not smiling when he came out to the waiting area a few minutes later. He did not say a word, no joking, not even forced laughter. Hilde attempted to smile, but dropped it as soon as she saw his expression. This was not going to be a day for false cheerfulness. In fact, Duo didn't say anything for the rest of the evening, and he avoided eye contact with everyone. Heero didn't blame him, and warned Hilde to leave him alone when he left her that night. She promised she would, but he knew it would pain her to when she knew he was hurting.

On his way into the bedroom, Duo had picked up the never read Bible, taking it with him into the darkness. Hilde didn't say anything about it, simply watched him while trying to keep her emotions down. What was he going to do with it though? He'd said himself that it wasn't worth reading. She eventually decided that she didn't want to know and tried to think of something else until she fell asleep.

The next morning Duo didn't respond to her call. He didn't respond to Heero either. The Japanese pilot told Hilde afterward that he hadn't said a single word all the while Heero was in his room with him. Not a single sound. She was worried, but he told her to let it go. He needed to accept this in his own time. They would just have to accept it too. She let him alone, watering her plants, dusting the picture, and doing other trivial household chores until lunch.

It was a lunch that no one ate either. She called him, but he didn't answer and when she opened the door slightly she found him hunched over in his chair, doing something that she couldn't see because it was so dark inside. He waved her away without a word, the dismissal as painful as if he had waved a gun at her. She was just clearing up the dishes when the knock came at the door. Puzzled she hurried over, knowing it wasn't Heero because he had ceased to knock when he came in. The door opening revealed Trowa Barton, standing stoicly in the hall.

"Trowa," she heard herself say in a surprised voice. She only barely stopped herself from asking "what are you doing here?"

"I've come to see Duo," he said, almost as if he had read the question in her eyes. "I wanted to make sure he was doing all right. I would have come sooner, but our schedule was rather tight." So many words at once. She couldn't remember ever hearing him speak before.

"Sure," she finally was able to stammer, finally realizing that she was being rude standing there in front of the door that way. "Come on in, but I don't know if today is such a good day for visits." Trowa raised an eyebrow. "He isn't feeling very well, I guess. He's been in his room all day." She felt odd confiding in Trowa this way. She didn't know him very well either. But really, Hilde, when it comes right down to it, how well do you know Duo in the end?

"Maybe I can persuade him," Trowa was saying as she shook herself away from that train of thought. "If I may?"

"Be my guest," she swept her hand up to indicate where the bedroom was, watching as Trowa knocked twice before stepping into the artificial night that Duo had created for himself. She shook her head, returning to her dishes, hoping that Trowa could indeed bring Duo out of his reverie, but being secretly jealous of him if he could.

Duo flinched inwardly as he heard the door open. He didn't want to see anyone at the moment, not even Hilde. Her pitiful eyes haunted him, even though he hadn't looked at them for almost a day. He resented himself, so he'd trapped himself in here, laughing at the new Bible with its false language of hope. His own Bible was tucked away in the box in the corner, and he left that one alone. He had too much in common with that one, and maybe he just wanted to feel sorry for himself for a while. He didn't turn to see who had entered, hoping to discourage any spark of conversation. He would have ignored them altogether if it hadn't been for the few hummed notes of his favorite hymn. Suddenly curious as to who would know such a personal detail of his old life, he turned ever so slightly to see.

It was Trowa who stood there, wrapped in the light from the living room lamps, a heavenly spectacle to behold. It was him who was humming, softly, lightly, comfortingly. Yes, only Trowa would know that song. Only Trowa would have paid any attention on the numerous occasions that Duo had hummed it himself throughout the war. Only Trowa would have remembered.

It had been a chess match, one of many. Trowa had a wonderful style of playing chess that Duo had always enjoyed. He never won, of course, either the game had to be postponed or he just flat out lost, but it was a lot of fun making jokes in an attempt to break his concentration. It never mattered what Duo said, how much he laughed or joked, it never made any difference in Trowa's performance.

"Are you hiding some sort of eyepatch under those bangs, Trowa?" Duo asked from time to time, frowning and trying to take his attention off of the fact that he was once again losing to Trowa's strategical genius. It made the huge pause that was his turn seem less like a pause and more like an attempt at conversation. "Telling you where to move?"

"You're the one with all the hidden toys, Duo," Trowa said quietly, his arms folded on the table, studying the board. Somehow Trowa's jokes were always funnier than his own. He laughed, finally moving his bishop in what he thought would be a great sneak attack. Maybe it was the delivery and tone that made them that way, or it might just be that he loved to laugh, or it might be that he wanted to forget how badly he was losing.

The bishop disappeared, replaced with Trowa's queen. Where had that come from? The problem with the move being over when you took your fingers off the piece was that it always meant that the attack was coming from the angle previously blocked by your hand. Duo pursed his lips. He hadn't even had any time to think about his next move. Concentrate this time, Duo, he told himself. Might surprise yourself one of these days.

"What's that?" Trowa's question brought him up from where his chin rested on his arms as he studied the board.

"What?" He looked up to find Trowa staring at him curiously.

"You were humming. I just wondered what song it was." Trowa making idle conversation over a chess match. He must be curious. Duo hadn't even noticed he had been humming, but he knew what song it must have been.

"My favorite hymn," he slid a pawn up a square, the only safe move he could see. "Helps keep the nerve up before a battle." Trowa nodded solemnly, obviously being able to talk and concentrate at the same time. The pawn being moved made an open pathway for his rook.

"Check," he warned. "Why do you like it?" Trowa had been asking a lot of questions about people's pasts lately, since he'd only just gotten his own memory back. Duo guessed that was the reason for the sudden interest in his old life, but unlike Trowa, Duo didn't really want to remember. He pretended to be very concerned with the safety of his king. He shrugged, moving him out of danger.

"For the last line," he paused to break into song. "'His Spirit guides; his love assures that fear departs when faith endures.' Before a fight, I put all my faith in God and I'm no longer afraid of anything." Trowa smiled softly, moving a knight closer to the king.

"A good strategy. I hope you keep your faith then." He stood up, pushing his chair in. "Checkmate," was the last thing he said as he left the room, but Duo could hear him humming all the way down the hall.

"Well if it isn't the invisible man," Duo greeted, putting on a false smile and turning the chair around completely. He could talk to Trowa, because if he didn't speak no one would, and the silence would be deafening and awkward. Besides, Trowa did not look at him with eyes of pity. Trowa still looked at him with the respect that is shown to someone who has saved your life, even though it was a debt long since repaid. "What are you doing here?" He didn't bother trying to hide his curiosity. Trowa knew it was there anyway. Trowa may not be easy to see himself, but he saw everything if it was there to be seen.

"I came," he began as if starting a report. Trowa had yet to fall away from the attitude of a soldier. "To talk with you. I figured I'd stop and say good-bye before the circus heads out tomorrow."

"Just good-bye?"

"No. Let's go down to the park and talk awhile."

"Fine." He was curious now. Trowa wanting to talk was an oddity in itself. He wheeled himself out of the apartment, giving only a look to Hilde on the way, Trowa following closely behind like a shadow.

"What is this all about, Trowa?" He asked once they were out in the hot afternoon sunshine. He felt Trowa take the handles of the chair, pushing him, but he didn't mind.

"I wanted to know how you were doing," he heard the soft voice above him, floating along the wind. "How you were taking things." The way he said it made Duo want to scream, or cry, or something equally as drastic and childish as those two extremes. "I was worried when you fell at Relena's party, and then I didn't see you around so I figured I'd better come and check." Trowa? Checking up on him? "Quatre's been worried about you too, but unfortunately his schedule is even more hectic than mine at the moment."

"You know, don't you?" Duo heard himself ask, and felt Trowa nod more than he heard the murmur of a yes. "Then why do you ask how I'm doing?" Trowa shrugged, pulling the wheelchair to a halt next to a picnic table. He perched on the table, one leg dangling off the side as he leaned down to look at Duo closely.

"I needed to know if you were still going to fight."

"It's a losing battle Trowa." Another shrug.

"We're Gundam pilots. We're good at fighting losing battles, I thought." Duo blushed as he remembered saying those exact same words not too long ago.

"What's the point?"

"The point is that you might have ten to twelve years left of life," Trowa's voice was heated now as he tried to drive his meaning directly into Duo's forehead with his words. "You can do a lot with that in case you didn't know." Duo looked up, shocked at the fierceness of Trowa's statement.

"What am I going to do, Trowa? I'm going to be paralyzed soon." Trowa looked at him with an expression that clearly read as disappointment. Why would Trowa be disappointed in him? He paused as he watched Duo fidgeting in the wheelchair, then he sighed.

"You've lost it, haven't you?" For some strange reason, that coming from Trowa made
Duo throw back his head and laugh.

"I must have," he said when he was able to speak again. "I must have." Trowa gave him a pained look.

"Your faith, I mean," he remedied his words, giving new meaning to them. Duo reached up to finger his cross. "You've lost your faith."

"Yeah," the words were barely audible. "I think I have." Where had he lost his faith? He couldn't exactly remember. It must have been a gradual tearing away caused by prisons and Gundams and bullet rains and now Lou Gehrig's.

"You need to get it back, for Hilde's sake if for anything." Again Duo was caught up in the urge to laugh.

"You can't just get it back, Trowa," he protested, shaking his head. "It doesn't work that way."

"Have you ever heard that old legend about the thousand paper cranes?" Trowa seemed to change the subject altogether as his green eyes followed the motions of a little girl on the swing. Duo blinked, trying to catch what he was getting at. Trowa would forever be beyond his comprehension, he decided. Besides, he didn't like riddles and that was the only form of speech Trowa knew. He himself was a riddle if you stared at him long enough. The invisible clown with the painted smile. Step right up folks. The longer you know him the less you understand him. Take a look at the walking contradiction.

"Vaguely," Duo responded slowly, fingering the wheels of the chair and bringing his mind back to the original puzzle. "Could you fill me in on it?" Trowa nodded solemnly.

"There was once a little Japanese girl who was diagnosed with cancer after World War II. When she was told that she probably was not going to get well, she distanced herself from everything, family, friends." He paused for dramatic effect, letting Duo know that this was the way he was acting now. "But one of her friends told her about the paper cranes. How if she folded a thousand of them and made a wish it would come true because cranes are very lucky. She could get better. So she began folding cranes, her hospital room was bedecked with her colorful flock, and she indeed got better while she was happily engaged in her project. That's how she kept her faith." This apparently was the answer to the riddle, but Duo thought he needed another clue before he could really understand what Trowa was trying to tell him. He remembered the story now, and there was a part of it that Trowa was leaving out.

"She died, Trowa," he pointed out bluntly, watching the girl swing back and forth in rhythm. Out. Back. Out. Back. Tick Tock. "She didn't fold all one thousand and it wouldn't have done her any good anyway if she had."

"I'm not trying to give you any false hope, Duo, and I'm not telling you that making a wish over a thousand folded pieces of paper will cure you either. I'm just giving you advice to find something that will keep you sane. You may not have much life left, but it's what you put into it that makes it life to begin with. If you've lost that I may as well just shoot you now." He was being serious too. Duo didn't need to look to know Trowa had his gun out, held low at his hip to keep it from notice. Tick Tock. The girl's childish laughter floated over to him, and he smiled, understanding what Trowa was trying to do for him.

"Put that thing away," he said through his grin. "I'm ready to go back now." Trowa nodded again, standing from the picnic table, the pistol already hidden somewhere in his clothing. A trick he had picked up from Heero along the road. He wheeled Duo back up to the apartment in absolute silence, having used up all his words for the day in giving Duo advice. They didn't speak again until they parted at the door, Trowa bowing down the hall in a good-bye. It was the last time Duo would ever lay eyes on the invisible man for he went back to his circus while Duo stayed behind.

Duo came back to her that evening very much changed than when he had left. Hilde never knew exactly what Trowa had said to him while they were gone, but she really didn't care. She only knew what a change it had made in Duo for the better. He greeted her warmly when he came in, apologizing immediately for his previous surly behavior and asking what was for dinner with a wink. She just blinked and decided to let the whole matter alone. She had her Duo back in any case, and that was all she had ever wanted. And as for Trowa, she'd never understood him, nor did she ever see him again. He roamed the roads of the circus, living life as he'd always done, invisibly but to its highest potential. She went to sleep the night of Trowa's visit happily confused, not even noticing the Bible no longer resting in its place on the coffee table.

"Say Heero," Duo sparked the question just as the other pilot was turning to leave a few days later. "Why are you always in such a hurry anymore? You never stay and talk to me." Actually, Heero couldn't remember the last time he'd ever talked with Duo. It was usually Duo who did all the talking. It had always been that way. But there was a reason he didn't linger for longer than absolutely necessary as of late. It was because he hated looking at Duo trapped in that thing, wasting away before his eyes. He hated watching Duo struggle with the simplest movements when such a short time ago he had been so graceful. In short it was getting hard to determine if he hated the disease or hated Duo himself. But of course he couldn't say any of this out loud. Hilde would never forgive him if he were to say anything to upset her charge. For some reason he wanted to spare her pain as much as he wanted to pull Duo out of that chair like a television evangelist and command him to walk again. Neither thing being within his power. He hated that too. He was Heero Yuy, the perfect soldier, wasn't he? He'd saved thousands of lives, yet he couldn't relieve the suffering of the one life he cared most about. That was why he left in a hurry every day. The helplessness chased him, tagging his heels until he was safely away from the building and in control of things once more. "Hey! Are you listening to me?" He blinked, looking down to find Duo's hand on his arm.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I'm listening." Duo sat back, smiling as usual.

"Could you do me a favor, Heero?"

"What's that?"

"I need you to teach me how to fold a paper crane."

"Nani?" What a strange request, even for Duo. If he weren't already insane, Heero would have been certain he had lost his mind entirely. But since it was Duo there must be some strange reason for coming up with this.

"I know you can do it. Teach me how," his plea sounded like a child's, simple to appease, but odd to go along with.

"For what purpose?" He found himself asking, curious without realizing that he was curious. Duo looked out the only window in the room, that silly grin still settled on his features. He shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe I want to make a wish." Heero blinked, remembering the old Japanese tale. What was he talking about? Surely he didn't think that folding cranes would help him get better? It hadn't worked for the little girl and it wouldn't work now. Things just weren't solved so easily.

"We'll need two square pieces of paper," he heard himself say, wondering why he was doing this. He shouldn't be encouraging this. Yet it was something he could do to please him, brighten his day a little. It gave him the bit of control he needed. Besides, what harm could folding cranes do? He'd soon lose interest when he saw how involved of a project he had just made for himself.

Duo picked up the brand new Bible that had taken up residence on his bedside table, ripping two of the pages from it with a neat gesture. It looked horrible to watch such a thing. Duo, with his cross and his priest collar, tearing out pages of the sacred document to make a bird that woudn't help him no matter how he wished it could.

"No one will ever read it," he explained when he saw the look Heero could only guess he was wearing. "That is not a Bible that people read, trust me. It's merely for looks." Heero shrugged, taking a sheet and tearing off the extra, creating a perfect square. Duo copied his action exactly.

"First," Heero began, kneeling by the bed so he could use the flat surface of the table. "You fold it in half like this." Duo's eyes shone brightly as he watched, carefully storing every detail.

Fifteen minutes later two cranes rested serenely atop the now incomplete Bible. One was crisp and perfect, the edges sharp and well defined. The other was a bit more crumpled, the head squashed and one of the wings off center, but it was a start.

"There," Duo said triumphantly, looking his creation over with pride. He turned it around, looking at the verses. "Psalm 119 verse 105," he read softly. "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." He paused to laugh. "Otherwise known as crane number one."

Heero snorted, getting up to leave, but Duo once again grabbed his arm to get his attention. He looked down into grateful cobalt eyes.

"Thanks Heero, you know, for teaching me and everything." Heero shrugged dismissively, detaching himself from Duo's grasp and hurrying out of the room.

From that day on Duo made paper cranes in any spare minute that he had, but he never used any source of paper other than the Bible pages. He resumed going to the park in the afternoons, after a long persuasion of Hilde, promising her he wouldn't get lost again. When he left, he took the cranes he had made the night before with him. Hilde suspected he gave them away to people he saw while out because he never brought any back when he returned. She could just picture him delivering a sermon of comfort from a Bible page, then passing the crane along as a reminder and a good luck charm. The life may recede out of Duo, she thought one day, but Duo would always be a part of life so long as the people of the park put his paper cranes in their windowsills or in their books to mark their places. And with each crane he made he put a slash in the table of contents in neat bunches of tens. But Heero's crane, the perfect crane, that one Duo didn't give away. Hilde knew that he kept that one always in his pocket, like a deeply treasured possession. It might very well be. Hilde doubted if Heero had ever given anything away before. She also doubted if he understood how much it meant to Duo.

Things were getting along as normally as they could, and it was about one hundred and seventy three cranes later that anything happened. It was a little thing, any one else would have dismissed it entirely, but to Duo and Hilde it meant something very serious. They were having dinner together, as they always did, chattering away about what they had done all that day and what they might do tomorrow. Duo was smiling at her in the way she loved, and she forgot temporarily, while they were both seated, that anything was wrong.

Until Duo's fork slipped out of his fingers, spilling rice over the white tablecloth and into his lap. Hilde leaped up, frightened, and Duo looked a bit surprised. She picked up the fork from the floor, telling him not to worry while brushing his clothes clean with a napkin and scooping up the rice from the table.

"I'm sorry, Hilde," he stuttered, staring down at his hand.

"It's okay, Duo. It's no big deal, right?" He looked up at her as if he wished that what she was saying was true and that it was no big deal, but he took the clean fork that she offered him with his left hand, and continued the meal with awkward motions.

The next morning he presented her with her own crane, his eyes haunted. The verse on this page had been underlined in red pen. "As I have loved you, love one another." Her eyes brimmed tears, but she was sick of crying. She looked to Duo, who was massaging his hand, and prayed that from now on the decline would be quick. She couldn't stand to watch this slow torture anymore. If he were to lose control of his hands, he wouldn't want to live anyway. It wouldn't be life after that, she realized.

"Thank you Duo," she managed to stutter, unable to look at him again.

"I wanted to be sure that you got one," he said. "I don't think I'll be able to," he stopped short, getting his emotions under control before continuing. "Don't think I'll be able to make any more."

"Oh Duo."

"Here," he interrupted her, and she knew he was having more problems with this than she was. He pulled from behind him a Bible, but it wasn't the one that had rested on the coffee table for so long. It was older, shabbier, dirtier. "I wanted you to have this too. This one knows its stuff." He wheeled away from her then, very slowly because his fingers wouldn't grip hard enough to move very fast. She let him go, knowing that they both needed to be alone for a little while.

She leafed through the book he had given her, looking through the parts he had underlined. There were dog ears and pencil notes and even what looked like droplets of blood in some places. It had endured the war, it seemed. This was Duo's Bible, and it was like Duo in a way. It had been new once, but now it had seen too much of real horror to be quite able to just sit on someone's coffee table. Like Duo. He had seen too much to be at home in normal society. It was like he had given her a piece of himself in giving her the book, and she clung to it fiercely, knowing just how special it would become to her after he was gone.

As the days went by Duo's hands became more awkward. He stopped going to the park entirely, not having enough energy to get down there, and not being able to grip the wheels hard enough to wheel any farther than the apartment lobby to check his mailbox. Hilde offered to take him, many times, but he repeatedly refused. Heero still came by to help, but he treated their time together as something he had to do, not something to be enjoyed. It frightened him now, being around Duo frightened him. He didn't understand why, and that made him uncomfortable.

"Why don't we make a crane, Duo?" He asked once, just a few days after Duo had given Hilde his Bible. The cranes gave Heero a sense of control on the situation, something that he could do. Something that enabled him to take physical action. He couldn't make Duo well, and he couldn't sympathize very well either, but he could fold a Bible page. "I'll take you to the park and we can find someone who needs it."

"It's going to rain," was all Duo would say, watching the darkening clouds from his window.

"Tomorrow then," Heero promised from the doorway, hesitating there for some signal that Duo would leap from the chair in a miracle. Duo shrugged, massaging his hand with fingers that only barely moved. Heero felt something in his throat tighten as he watched that, and he almost ran out of the building to get away from it.

It was only his soldier's sense of duty that brought him back to Duo's apartment the next morning, walking there in the rain, trying to wash away his cowardice. It was only Duo, yet it wasn't Duo anymore. Or is it really death you're trying to run from, Heero? He asked himself as he walked slowly, allowing the cool drops to slide down his face in place of tears that he didn't have. Are you afraid of Death? No, he wasn't. He shook his head fiercely, knowing what it was. It was the emotion that came whenever he watched Duo. The sorrow, he was sure that was it. It was sorrow that he didn't want, what scared him. He wasn't supposed to feel, and the fact that he still could, and that it hurt, made him frightened of the darkness that Duo kept within his room.

Hilde was gone when he arrived, probably on a mission for groceries. He could hear the water of the shower, and that gave him the knowledge on Duo's whereabouts. Duo had insisted on taking showers completely by himself. It was beyond his endurance to have assistance with almost everything that took place within the bathroom. Heero didn't blame him at all, but knew that those days were soon to be over. And it would be him who would help him. The water stopped, and Heero waited for a significant amount of time to allow Duo to crawl out and into some clothes before he entered the dark bedroom.

Duo was on the floor beside the bed when Heero came in, the wheelchair a few feet away. He never got into the chair by himself, he always waited for Heero to help him into it, despite the fact that he was perfectly capable. It was as if he knew that Heero needed to know that he was helping in some small way. Duo's hairbrush was also on the floor, by his knees. His arms were pulled tight against his sides, the fingers curled and useless. He was rocking back and forth, shaking his head, his hair long and wet splayed out behind him in shining chestnut tangles.

"Duo," Heero began in a soft voice, trying to ignore the fact that was plainly there. Duo jumped in startlement, staring at Heero with pained and frightened eyes. "Do you want me to --"

"No," Duo shook his head violently. "No." He bit his lip, as if sorry for his outburst, and to hide his embarrassment he tried once again to pick up the hairbrush. Heero watched him, noticing that the buttons on his shirt were undone, and the button and zipper on his jeans as well. He'd probably only barely gotten them on to begin with. The brush was held in a limp grasp, the only one Duo could manage, and he dropped it before he had gotten it through the first tangle. He let out a choked, sobbing noise as he brought the useless hand close to his body again, a reflex motion of a wounded animal. Heero swallowed, hard, to get control of himself before he knelt beside Duo and picked up the hairbrush. Duo never let anyone touch his hair, ever, even when Hilde had offered to braid it for him a little while ago when the braid had begun to get a bit sloppy due to the lack of cooperation on the part of his hands. Duo began to rock back and forth again, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut. It hurt to see him that way.

Heero pulled Duo's hair back to make it more manageable. Duo jerked, as if he were trying to escape, looking back with shining eyes. Heero made what he hoped was a soothing gesture and lifted the brush to start in on the chestnut snags. If Duo could have moved, he would have been across the room. He couldn't stand this. It would have been more merciful if he had killed him right there, but he couldn't. All the while he worked the knots free Duo's shoulders shook with the effort of not breaking into sobs, the muscles of his upper arms tensed so hard that they trembled.

"It's all right, Duo," Heero muttered as he ran the brush through the now smooth and beautiful strands. It was so long. He'd heard Hilde say the phrase before and thought it would be comforting, but it just made Duo pull tighter into himself. He sighed, twisting to take two rubber bands from off the dresser, drawing the heavy wet hair through one and then beginning to braid with quick, deft motions. And all through the operation Duo twitched like a caged and wounded animal.

When the end was secured Heero stood and moved away from the other pilot, pulling the hair from the brush and walking to the kitchen to throw it away. Duo didn't move from his crouched and trembling position. He was still like that when Heero came back with a pair of scissors. He opened them once just to bring Duo's attention to him. Deathscythe's pilot looked up, at the scissors, and nodded numbly.

"I understand," he said in an emotion strained voice. Heero wouldn't have done it. He didn't want to, but he knew that it would be better if the hair be cut then to have Duo go through what Heero had just had to do again. If he couldn't braid his hair on his own, to have someone else do it, would be to kill him in the slowest, most painful way possible. Heero licked his lips, wondering what he would tell Hilde when she came home, and once again knelt behind Duo to take his hair in his hands.

With the first metallic snip of the scissors Duo jerked, whimpering. Heero didn't even want to know what he was feeling. He commanded himself to keep a third person perspective on what he was doing so that he could finish the job. Distantly he heard Duo's shuddering breaths as he fought to stay still. Heero stood the moment he had made the last cut, taking the braid with him out of the room. He put it in a bag and set that next to the door for him to take with him when he left. He had no idea what he was going to do with it, but there was no way he would just throw it into the garbage can.

The first of Duo's sobs ripped him through the throat all the way down to his chest. Duo didn't cry. He just didn't. Heero stood just outside the door, listening and trying to will it away. Stop Duo, he thought desperately. Please don't. He felt like sprinting out of the door and not slowing down until he was far away. But even then he knew that he would still see Duo's braid and hear his cries. As a particularly sharp sob cut through Heero, he found himself rushing into the bedroom instead of out like he had intended. What kind of friend was he anyway? To think of leaving him like this. Duo was doubled over on the floor, his curled unmoving fingers at the back of his neck, feeling where the braid should be, but no longer was. Heero could see every vertebrae in his spine, and also the bones of his shoulderblades as they jerked with the fierceness of his sorrow. He put his hand over one of those shoulderblades, wondering what to do to make this any easier. Duo answered his question for him, turning into Heero's side for comfort. Any comfort, even the cold sympathy of the perfect soldier was welcome now. Heero took a sharp inward breath as Duo buried his face against his chest, still not knowing exactly what to do. Just hold him, something inside him whispered, that's all you can do. Closing his eyes to deny that he himself was sharing in Duo's sadness, he put his arms around the American pilot, rocking him slowly in a reflexive motion. Back and forth with no other sound except the sharp choking sobs. There was nothing he could say, and nothing that Duo would want to hear. Back and forth. It's all right, Duo. He bit his lip in concentration. I'm right here, Duo. He clung tightly to try and stop the uncontrolled shuddering. I'm not going to leave you like this, Duo. He winced as his friend took a deep shuddering breath in an attempt to calm down. I'm so sorry, Duo.


Hilde found them in that position when she came home a while later. Her mouth dropped open in shock, and though her eyes began to swim she squeezed them shut to prevent any tears. She wasn't going to cry anymore. Duo looked so small in Heero's arms, small and childlike. There were dark circles of exhaustion and sorrow under his eyes, which were closed now, and his hair hung about his face in short strands. Short. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked down from the sight quickly, swallowing with difficulty. Heero had cut Duo's hair. My God, she thought, wondering if He were listening at all. Why is this happening?

Heero stood as soon as he'd seen her standing in the doorway, the light of the living room behind her. She watched as he tenderly lifted the sleeping pilot from their crouched position on the floor and lay him on the bed, buttoning his jeans and shirt in quick motions. Duo murmured something in a sad, soft, sleepy voice, trying to curl up into a ball and not being able to move that much. He gave one shuddering sigh and then was completely still. Heero brushed the short hair away from his face, looking at him with a curious expression that Hilde had never seen before on his features. Was it affection? Was it sorrow? Was it a combination of the two? Whatever it was, she doubted that anyone else had ever seen that look in Heero Yuy's eyes before, nor would anyone ever see it again.

"How could you?" She demanded, surprised at the fierceness of her own voice, as Heero brushed past her into the light. He didn't look at her, just moved toward the door. "Heero!" He stopped, still avoiding eye contact, his cold prussian blue eyes fixed on the paper bag near the door. She stepped in front of him, demanding an explanation before he went anywhere. "Why did you do it? I could have braided it." He shook his head, making her aware that at least he heard what she was saying.

"No," he whispered, looking now toward the floor. "It would have driven him insane."

"Like your decision was any better." She shoved him, needing to get rid of her frustration and helplessness somehow. He was simply an outlet for pent up emotion. He stood stoicly, unmoved.

"He only had to go through that once," he said quietly, coldly, without any feeling at all. "Having you braid it would have been a torture that would never end." This statement did not help her calm down, in fact it made her more angry.

"How dare you!" She cried, pounding him in the chest with her fists. "What is wrong with you anyway? Don't you care at all?" In a blind rain of tears she continued beating him, and he stood there and took every blow. "That's it isn't it? You don't care! You don't care what happens to him. You don't care how he feels. You don't care about anything because you can't feel anything. What kind of a human being are you?" Her words meant nothing, she could barely hear herself saying them in all honestly, and did not remember them later. But their effect on Heero was something else entirely. He grabbed her arms, stopping her fists, holding them tightly. Once she had no way to release her emotion, the power of tears completely overtook her and she felt her knees give way. Heero lowered her to the floor, still holding her arms even when she raised her hands to cover her face.

"I care," he growled close to her ear, his voice terrible and low. She flinched, trying to pull herself from his grasp, remembering now how dangerous he was. "You'll never know how much." Then he was gone, running out the front door, having grabbed the bag on his way out. Hilde looked after him a moment, resisting the urge to slam the door shut, and then punched the floor with all her strength.

She commanded herself to rise and the first thing she saw was Duo's Bible on the coffee table. It made her feel cheated. Look at all he'd been through, those bloodstains on the pages proved it. He'd gone through prisons and beatings and every other kind of hell that was beyond even her imagination. He came through all that with a smile and a joke. Had the God of life abandoned the God of death? Was that it? Why did this have to happen to someone so special? A ridiculous question she reprimanded herself. It didn't happen only to Duo, even though it seemed that he had received his fair share of trials. It was senseless to ask why. God didn't need to explain it to her his reasons for this. He didn't even need for her to accept it. But God, she whispered in her head, fingering the shabby Bible, couldn't you make it a little bit easier on him?

After that Heero and Hilde never said a word to each other. He still came every day to help Duo with what he could, but he ignored Hilde's presence entirely. She didn't even care. Her concerns were on Duo. Once his hair had been cut short he sank into his own private torment. He didn't laugh or joke anymore. He barely spoke even. He ate very little simply because he couldn't stand it that Hilde had to feed him. She coaxed, reasoned, begged even, but after he had reached a point of tolerance he would not touch another bite. This made him weak and so very thin that Hilde felt like crying everytime she looked at him. The sclerosis buildup in his back sometimes pained him so much that he would break down in tears. It got so bad that Heero had to crack it for him on a regular basis just to break up the hardening tissue. Like the fallen Samson he had no energy for anything and would sit in his wheelchair just staring out the window for hours. It was a horrible existence and his sad eyes haunted Hilde everywhere she went.

The last night was the hardest. The last night Heero did not come to help Duo from the chair into bed for reasons of his own. The last night they waited for him for a very long time until they were both satisfied that he was not coming. That last night Hilde had to do it, and it proved a difficult and exhausting experience for both of them. While Heero could simply lift him up and onto the bed in a quick and almost painless motion, she wasn't quite that strong. When he was finally stretched out they both just remained absolutely still on the bed, Hilde because it had taken all her strength, and Duo because he had lost almost all motion ability. She watched him, watched his breathing, rapid and shallow, his eyes squeezed shut in pain. Though he could not move he had become hyper sensitive to touch to the point that even a hug would have brought him to the brink of tears. As she watched she wondered what would hurt worse, never seeing him again or having to see him like this. She thought that at this point death would be a welcome relief.

"Isn't it getting any better?" She asked after a time. Longer than it usually took for the pain to subside. In reply a tear slid down from Duo's closed eye. He breathed in such a manner that she began to be afraid that the next gasp would be his last.

"Have you ever been kissed, Hilde?" He asked in a broken, shuddering manner. Each word spoken in an outrush as he tried to breathe. What did that have to do with anything? Was he just trying to take his mind off the pain? She decided to humor him. Anything to help him through this. She couldn't stand it.

"No," she said softly and honestly, wanting to stroke his cheek, but restraining herself because she knew how much it would hurt him.

"Neither have I," the words were so choppy, but she knew what he was getting at now. "Would you?"

"Wait Duo. I will when you feel better." He gave a painful bark of a laugh, opening his eyes to look up at her. They were shining with pleading and pain.

"It's not going to get better," he gasped. "Not this time." Those words sent a chill through her. What did he mean? Surely he wasn't saying. . .he couldn't possibly. She leaned over him, intent on following his wishes so she could pretend that he hadn't said what she thought he had. Her fingers brushed his bangs off his damp forehead; he flinched. Careful not to touch him anywhere, Hilde bent and kissed him. How long she had been wanting to, but like this wasn't exactly how she'd planned it. It started gently, but a mixture of sorrow and desire made her more fierce. She closed her eyes, trying to tell herself that this was normal, that he'd be okay, allowing the kiss to encompass her entire consciousness. Then she both heard and felt Duo's whimper of pain and she pulled back quickly, turning her back to him in embarrassment and resting her head on the window. The glass was cool beneath her forehead. Behind her Duo struggled to breathe.

She knew what was going on now. His respiratory and heart muscles were shutting down. He was dying, and probably wouldn't make it through the night. She almost laughed at that. She never thought she would actually think of that old line from bad movies. She thought momentarily of calling an ambulance but discarded the thought immediately. What could they give him except borrowed time? No, living like this was no life at all. He'd been trapped and hurt long enough. It was time to let go.

"Hilde?" Her name in that tone made her cringe. He sounded like a child who had gotten lost somewhere in the darkest of night. She turned to find him staring at her, his lips bloody from the harshness of their first kiss. "For God's sake please don't cry."

"I'm not." God's sake? What about for Duo's sake? Who was God that He could torture one of His most faithful children like this? What sort of atrocious test of faith was this anyway? It was one thing to kill him in the blood heat of a war, it was quite another to trap him like this. God, she decided, had a twisted sense of humor.

"I always loved you, you know," he panted and she broke eye contact. Surprisingly, that was the last thing she wanted to hear. What good were those kinds of confessions now when it was far too late? She couldn't even tell him that she loved him too. She would just have to hope that he already knew.

"Shut up will you?" She commanded through clenched teeth, her hands balling into fists. "Just keep still." She left the bedroom to collect her thoughts and sort through her emotions. Her path led her right to the Bible on the coffee table and she picked it up out of habit.

"Hilde! Hilde don't leave me!" His voice rasped now with desperate pleading and she realized just how terrified he was to be alone. She hurried back to find his chest heaving from the struggle of breathing and of choking back frightened sobs.

"I'm not going anywhere, Duo," she soothed, perching on the bed.

"Can you," he rasped, each word sounding more strained than the last. "Can you make sure Heero gets the cross?"

"Of course." Although she never wanted to speak to Heero again right then she would have promised Duo anything. "Hush now." She opened the Bible then, reading from it just so Duo wouldn't feel like he had to fill the silence, reading about repentance and redemption and all the wonderful things that happened after death, each word bringing a harder challenge to keep her voice steady.

"He was never as lucky as I was," Duo spoke up again despite her command for him to be still. She bit her lip, bowing her head over the book as she listened.

"What do you mean? Heero?" She hadn't meant to ask, but she felt that he wanted to talk, to take his mind off what was happening, even though it was such a difficult process to speak.

"He never had you to look out for him like I did." She smiled and for a moment it was hard for her to breathe as well.

"I'll take care of him," she promised in a tight, little voice she barely recognized. Duo smiled even as he winced. Oh yes, she would take care of him. If she ever found him. He should be here, this night if any night. He should be here on the last night. Where was he anyway? She slipped her hand into Duo's, knowing that it hurt but he smiled for her despite that fact. The hours went on and on. Heero never came and Duo continued with his rasping breaths, but they were slowing. She read from the Bible just so she wouldn't have to hear how much of a struggle it was for him to stay alive as prominently. Take him, she prayed, he's had enough. Hasn't he deserved something better than this?

"Let go, Duo," she pleaded with him along three thirty that morning. "Why are you holding on?" It took him several moments to answer, and when he did it was barely audible.

"I'm waiting," he whispered. "I'm waiting for Heero." Hilde looked at the clock, and knew Heero wouldn't be coming. She cursed him silently, wondering why Duo was putting himself through this for him.

"I'm going to call him for you," she promised, standing slowly and putting the book down on the bed. "I'll be right back." His eyes flickered with fear, but he said nothing as she hurried out of the room, her hands shaking badly as she dialed Heero's number. As it rang she wondered if he were asleep, or ignoring her, or wasn't there at all. Surely, he would have woken up by now, she thought after the seventh buzz. She stood there waiting, counting each ring and cursing him anew with each one. How dare he do this? Now of all times. What could he possibly be doing that was more important than Duo? She walked very slowly back into his room, not knowing what to tell him. Sorry Duo, I guess Heero doesn't think you're worth his time anymore. Not a chance she could say that, and she didn't have to. He already knew, she could tell by the way he looked at her, and he didn't speak Heero's name again.

Three thirty to four to four thirty to four forty-five. Hilde watched the clock, listening as Duo's breathing became slower and harder and more painful. With each moment she swore vengeance anew on Heero, thinking of horrible ways to punish him for this abandonment. Five o'clock.

"Morning?" Duo whimpered with a trace of hope. Did he think that Heero would be coming? Was that the reason he was still here? What was so important that he had to tell him? What did he want to say? Heero wouldn't even care, what was the point?

"Almost," she soothed, giving a glance over her shoulder to the window that remained completely black. Five fifteen. Duo was unconscious now. His eyes closed tightly against his body's reaction to the disease. His hand was cold in Hilde's, and his lips were chapped and bloody. They were beginning to turn blue. Five thirty.

She began to hum to him comfortingly. It was a hymn she had heard him hum before, and even Trowa had used it. She didn't know what it meant, but that it must be something with special significance. The skin of his lips cracked open anew as he smiled softly, the same smile he always wore, and she gained some small comfort that he could still maintain that grin. Five forty.

She thought of phoning Heero again, but decided not to. She didn't want to leave Duo now, not even for a moment to step into the other room. His breaths were so far inbetween that she was certain that the gasps were only reflex now. Duo, the vibrant youth, the joking trickster, the dancing charmer, was gone. Yet the smile still lingered on his face. She looked up wearily to see a faint glimmer of gold peeking from under the closed blinds. Standing she quickly pulled it up, allowing the glory of the aurora to drown the room in light. Six o'clock.

The light bathed Duo's pale face, and he opened his eyes one last time. He looked at Hilde, sitting beside him, his smile gentle and hopeful. She smiled for him, letting him know that she was still here for him.

"Tell," he croaked, the voice of the dying. "Heero. Sorry. For. Not. Waiting." Then he breathed once more, a normal breath, an easy breath, closing his eyes again and allowing the sunlight to cover him in peaceful tranquility. "Thank God," were his last words. Six ten.

Hilde thought she would be sad. She thought she would have collapsed into uncontrolled sobbing over Duo's unmoving chest, but she just sat there, holding his hand and smiling. Yes, indeed, she thought, tears of gratitude, not sorrow, running down her face. Thank God. He'd finally taken Duo to where he belonged. He'd done better by his death than the government had in giving him the apartment and never-read-Bible. God had helped him bring peace to His people, giving him the means necessary to make an excellent soldier, but He knew that Duo couldn't get away from that, and therefore took him back to where he'd always wanted to be. How merciful. Yes, Duo, thank God.

She made the arrangements for the funeral and visitation in a quick and professional manner, and Duo's body was soon out of the apartment, and so was she. She was trying to find Heero, Duo's cross in her pocket next to the crane that read "as I have loved you." The brightness of the sunrise had given way quickly to dark clouds of mourning, and it was once again raining by the time she was walking to Heero's apartment. She'd never been there, but she expected it to be as dead and formal as Duo's had been the first time she'd set foot in it. She didn't know what she was going to say to him. She might be too furious to say anything. She might throw the cross at him and run from his presence. She might burst into tears, the full knowledge that Duo was really gone catching up to her if she were to look in the cold depths of Heero's ocean blue eyes.

Luckily for her, she did none of these things, because Heero was not at the apartment when she arrived. She pounded on the door, waiting, then finally getting frustrated she attempted to let herself in. The door was open, surprisingly. Heero had apparently taken to leaving doors unlocked, as if he didn't care about security anymore. He wasn't even there. She looked around, curious to see what Heero's dwelling would be like, and finding it exactly like Duo's. Exactly the same, right down to a Bible that was never before read laying on the coffee table and the picture in the entryway. She should have guessed that they would be the same, but not this alike. The only difference she found was in the bedroom, where she stopped and stared in shock.

Where Duo's room had always been dark and closed off, this one was bright with blazing colors of all description. Paper cranes! They were everywhere, hanging from the ceiling in neat strings of fifty, a number written on the left wing of each. They were every color of the rainbow, made from construction paper and newspaper and even one made from what looked like a Hershey bar wrapper. The breeze from the open window fluttered them lightly around, making the colors swirl and dance. The last group was on the bed, a needle attached on one end of the thread to put on the last of the flock. The number on the wing was nine hundred ninety-nine. Heero had made them for Duo, and when she found the last crane she would find the perfect soldier too. So he had cared after all.

She didn't know how she was to find him, but she remembered Duo telling her once about Heero's fascination with the ocean and figured that there would be a better place than any to start looking. Why had he folded all those cranes, though? She asked this over and over as she made her slow trek to the beach in the rain. He knew that it wouldn't do any good, and she knew by the numbers that it wasn't just for a hobby. Perhaps she had misjudged him? Perhaps she had been too harsh with him. She was feeling very remorseful by the time she reached the beach, and her heart almost broke when she saw Heero crouched at the edge of a precipiece that overlooked the water. He looked smaller, somehow, as he watched the waves break against the rock in angry splashes. He held something out in front of him, turning it slowly in his fingers as it was soaked by the rain. He himself was soaked, his hair very dark and plastered against his forehead, his clothes sticking to him.

"Heero," she came up behind him, saying his name just to let him know she was there. He turned slightly, looking up at her.

"I've been to the apartment," he said in a cold monotone. "But you were already gone."

"We waited," she hissed, feeling her anger at him rise up within her. "We waited all night, but you never showed up. Duo put himself through torture waiting for you!" Heero flinched, he actually flinched, looking down at his hands. Hilde could see what he was holding now. The last crane, a beautifully folded black one with no number on the wing. She sighed, feeling bad for Heero since he couldn't feel for himself.

"He wanted you to have this," she said in a calmer tone, pulling the cross from her pocket and dangling it in front of his eyes. "And he wanted me to tell you he was sorry." Heero nodded, reaching up to take the cross and holding it close to him reverantly. "Where were you last night, Heero?" She had to know. She just had to know what was so important. He looked up as if afraid that she would laugh if he told her the answer.

"Church," he cut the word short, looking down again, embarrassed. She could picture him alone all night in the church, with the candles burning all around him as he sat there in a mixture of prayer and folding paper cranes. She plucked the bird from his hand, examining it closely with its perfectly crisp edges.

"Why did you do this?" She begged the answer, wishing she could understand him at all. Duo had been open with his feelings, but Heero couldn't seem to express them at all. She shook the crane for emphasis, scattering raindrops as she did so. Heero shook his head, unable to answer for several minutes.

"It was the only thing I could do," he finally muttered in a very unsatisfactory answer. "You can cry, at least." He sounded as if he envied her for her tears. Envied her for her weakness. He was so helpless crouched there pathetically in the rain. "I can't even do that for him."

"He doesn't need you to," she tried to be comforting. "He's fine now." How did one comfort someone who didn't know they were experiencing sorrow? "He's with his God." Heero once again flinched, his eyes closing in agony and his hand clenching the cross tightly.

Heero didn't know what to do. He didn't know what he was feeling. There was a sense of loss that he recognized, but after that it was just a knot of pain surrounding his heart and throat. Duo didn't need him to cry. Duo didn't need him for anything now. He wasn't needed by anyone for anything. He was worthless. The only thing he had left was a wish on the last paper crane. Hilde was behind him, waiting for what he would do. She was taking this much better than he was. But she had a life outside of war, while his only life outside of war had been Duo. He was washed over with a complete sense of uselessness as dark and harsh as the waves far below him. The cross cut into his palm.

"Hurts doesn't it?" He didn't know if Hilde were speaking to him out loud or only in his mind. What did she know of it? She knows a lot more than you think, Heero, came another voice. Duo's voice. At least she knows what she's going to do now. "I'd understand if you broke down, just once." He didn't know if there were tears in his eyes or raindrops, and the fact that he wasn't even crying for his best friend made it hurt more. He felt a hand on his shoulder, Hilde's hand, a warm comforting hand. He choked. What good are tears now? He demanded from himself. What good will they do anyone? Hilde was kneeling beside him now on the rocks, her hand still resting on his shoulder and her eyes downcast. He looked at her, looked at her dark hair dripping water. He looked at her serene features and wise eyes. Now he knew why Duo had liked her so much. Because she was human, possessing more compassion and gentle feeling than Heero would ever know.

Heero's first sob took Hilde by surprise. She snapped her attention to him sharply, watching as he pulled into himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face from her sight. Heero was crying? Heero had broken down at last? All her anger at him for everything he had ever done melted in the rain and the tears and she found herself putting her arms around him, wondering if he'd ever been held by anyone. So, she thought to herself, smiling gently into Heero's wet hair, it took a death to make him realize that he was alive. How ironic that this could very well be Duo's highest accomplishment. She didn't know why he was crying. It might be a mixture of sorrow for Duo and sorrow for himself, or something else entirely. He might be crying for all the times in his life that he hadn't been able to. She had no way of knowing, and she didn't ask.

"I never believed in God," Heero said shakily, in a voice that she had never heard before, holding up the cross for careful inspection. "He'd never done anything for me, and I couldn't depend on Him." Hilde remained silent, allowing him the freedom to do whatever he pleased since he'd never been allowed it before. "But it was better Duo's way. He always tried telling me that God hadn't abandoned me, but I never believed him. He always tried to help me come back to enjoy the happiness that he had. I didn't know how. I still don't." He looked at her, his eyes begging her to tell him what to do. He needed a mission, a quest, something to live for. She didn't know what to say. The rain splattered around them, and the waves roared below them. "Can you teach me?" Her eyes widened. Heero asking for help. Things were changing. As I have loved you, love one another. That was what Duo wanted for her to do. He wanted her to love Heero, to show him what life could be like, take care of him. It was his death that had caused the initial change in the perfect soldier, the crack in the armor. Now it was for her to finish what he started.

"Yes," she assured, pulling him tight aganst her. "I will show you." A gust of wind blew the black crane off the edge of the precipiece where it floated gently down to the waves. Hilde watched it and made her wish. She wished for Heero to find the peace that Duo had always wanted for him. "Come on," she said abruptly, taking his hand and helping him up. She led him back to Duo's empty apartment, picking up Duo's Bible as she sat down.

"Here's your first lesson," she began as she opened it, looking at the words of wisdom Duo had left behind for her guidlines. Heero smiled, wiping his wet hair out of his eyes.

"Crane number one," he muttered.