Hear Me, Father
By Dan'yu
"DADDY!"
Duo Maxwell was startled awake by a shrill and frightened scream that echoed through his home. Fear wrapping around his heart in an icy grip, he fought against the mental fog lingering from sleep to find the source of the sound.
Hilde shifted beside him, her reassuring warmth pressing against his side as she reached out to touch his arm. "Calm down, Duo. He was having nightmares the whole time you were gone last week. It's probably just that."
As she moved to exit the bed, Duo stopped her. "No, I'll go. It's me he's calling for." With a sleepy nod, his wife rolled back into her cocoon of blankets, nestling comfortably into the warmth he had left behind. With an amused smile, he brushed a kiss against her forehead and made his way down the dark hallway to his son's bedroom.
The dim nightlight in the corner caused shapeless shadows to dance across the vibrantly colored walls of the bedroom, casting an insipid glow over the trembling little body curled into a ball on the bed. "Peter."
Peter looked up at him with wide violet eyes wet with tears, glistening in the pallid light, the hints of past offenders trailing down his cheeks, his lips trembling as he bit back another sob. His heart pained to see his son so frightened, Duo rushed forward, sweeping the little boy into his arms. He held him protectively in his lap, arms tight around the tiny frame, Peter burrowing as close as he could get to his father's reassuring presence.
"Hey, little man, what happened? Why are you crying?"
Peter shivered in the encasement of his father's arms, and Duo wrapped the blanket snugly around the small body, smoothing back matted brown curls away from his face. "What is it, Peter? What was so scary?"
"I-choke-had-sob-a b-bad-sob-dream."
"What was it about?"
Thin fingers curled almost painfully into the fabric of Duo's muscle shirt as the child's face went even paler than before. The braided man tightened his hold around his only child, settling the boy's head on his shoulder, his handstracing soothing circles across his back. "It's okay, Peter, it's okay, little man. Daddy's here now. I won't let anything hurt you. So will you tell me what the bad dream was about?"
"You went away again, Daddy. You-you went away-sob-and I called to you, whole bunches of times. I called your name again and again, but you never looked back at me." Peter peered up at the other with their shared eyes, his own wide, innocent, and pleading. "Daddy, did I do something bad? Is that why you keep going away?"
Any beating, gunshot or stabwound, any break or injury, and psychological trauma Duo had ever seen in his years as an L-2 orphan and a soldier, all of them paled dramatically in comparison to the pain he felt in response to his son's innocent and frightened question. "Oh, Peter. You know I only go away because it's my job, buddy." He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on the child's brow. "
"I would never, ever leave you alone. Most definitely not because you did something. You could never do something to make me leave you. I'm your daddy, Peter. Daddies stick with their boys."
The twenty-four year old mechanic spoke with such uncharacteristic conviction and seriousness that Peter couldn't help but giggle. "Do you promise, Daddy?"
With a devilish grin more suited to his nature, Duo held out his hand. "Yep. It's a deal." Peter flashed a toothy grin, spaced with the gaps of missing teeth, and returned the handshake, his small hand enveloped by his father's much larger, rougher palm.
Duo leaned forward until he and his son were nose to nose, causing their vision to become cross-eyed. "That's a promise between men, alright?"
"Alright!"
Duo's grin quickly faded, as he suddenly remembered the initial reason for his son's distress. Since the war had ended nine years before, the Marimaia incident had been the only major threat to the peace that had been brought about through the efforts of the Gundam pilots and Relena Peacecraft. Duo had been able to set aside the personas of Pilot 02 and Shinigami, and the gutter-child from the L-2 colonies, and started a new life for himself by establishing a legitimate and successful business with Hilde at his side as his best friend and partner.
Deeper feelings had grown between them, becoming something Duo had spent his life looking for: love. Married when Duo was nineteen, their son Peter was born within a year of their marriage, and Duo had his most cherished and beloved gift in life, a family, the one thing he had always longed for.
Though officially retired as a soldier, Duo still worked for the special operations unit of the Preventers. All the Gundam pilots did; living circumstances made no difference to the Lady Une, not even in Heero's place, though Relena had tried desperately to use her influence to push the issue. Not that the once Perfect Soldier was all that happy about having to leave his wife and their two-year-old twin son and daughter, especially when that wife was a powerful politician and he was her personal bodyguard.
All in all, even with being a hero of the war in 195, being a commander in the elite Preventers at sixteen, Duo still resented the position for the time it took him away from his family. What he hadn't realized, however, was how his prolonged absences were affecting his son.
"Hey, buddy, I'll tell you what. Next week, I'm going to take a nice long vacation, all right? Then you'll have me at your mercy for the whole vacation. How does that sound?"
Throwing his arms around his father's neck in his excitement, Peter's small body came into hard contact with the violet-eyed man's solid frame. Chuckling his amusement, Duo reached up to rustle the head of untidy brown curls, holding his son close. "I'll take that as a yes, then?"
"You bet!"
Duo knew fatherhood had turned him to mush, making him putty in this precious little boy's hands, but he could never bring himself to care. He was sure the sunshine on Earth itself could never outshine the radiance of his son's smile.
Unwrapping the clinging arms from around his neck, Duo expertly and effortlessly lifted the small weight from his lap as he rose to his feet, swinging the child down into the bed. As he proceeded to pull the covers over his son, he paused, biting his lip at a sudden thought.
The idea was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. Neither he nor Hilde was particularly religious, but having been raised in a church, Duo could remember well the prayers once used to put him to sleep. "I got an idea, big guy. I'm gonna teach you something my father taught me." He smiled at the implication of Father Maxwell as his father, but heck, it wasn't exactly a lie; the man had been the closest thing he ever had. He sat on the side of the bed, taking the smaller hands in his own, and leaning down to bring them both at eye-level. "Now, I want you to remember this whenever I'm gone, okay? When you're afraid, just say this prayer, and I'll be with you. Put your hands like this……"
----
"It's time to get some sleep, now, little man. Your mom would kill me if she knew how late I kept you up."
Giving his best effort to hide a yawn, Peter glanced up at his father thoughtfully. "Mommy's tired," he informed the elder matter-of-factly.
"That she is, Pete. Carrying a baby does that to mommies. She'll be tired for a while, I'm afraid. Are you excited about the baby? You're gonna be a big bro soon."
"Uh-huh," he said sleepily, watching his father through half-lidded eyes. "I'm gonna have a lil brother."
Smoothing back chestnut hair against his forehead, Duo smiled. "Get some rest, son. It'll be morning soon."
Just as he was preparing to leave the room, the small voice thick with sleep called out to him once more. "Daddy?"
"Yeah?"
"I got a name for my brother."
"What is it?"
Another yawn. "Daniel. Like that story you told me about the man who walked through the lion's den."
A loving smile touched the lips of the once orphan and thief, soldier and war hero, husband and father. "Daniel is a great name, little man. Go to sleep now."
"I love you, Daddy."
"I love you, too, Peter."
As he crawled back into the welcoming warmth and comfort of his neglected bed, his wife's sleeping form instinctually spooned against him. Wrapping his arms to pull her closer, resting his chin atop her head, he silently chanted one last prayer before drifting into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.
Now I lay me down to sleep,
Pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I die before I wake,
Give the lord my soul to take.