I love Gundam Wing with a passion. Like. Wow. I love it sooooo much. Duo is my favorite character. His background interests me like no other thing, and I ship Duo X Heero all the way so... yeah... this had to be done.

Anyway. I hope you all enjoy this. It's my first Gundam W fic so I hope it's to your liking :)


Chapter 1: Injuries and Pride.

Heero Yui sat on the brown leather couch at the latest safe house meet up point. All of the five former gundam pilots were to report to the safe house before they were assigned their mission.

He had finished his previous mission with no problems, and was the first to arrive at their designated meeting spot. So now he sat alone in the night darkened living room, lit only by the brightness from the screen of his laptop.

He had typed up his mission report last night, after he'd gotten there, and had sent out encoded messages to the other former pilots to know when he should be expecting their arrival. After five hours or so of waiting, he received messages back from ex-pilots 03 and 04, but 02 and 05 remained unresponsive.

According to 04, his mission would be completed in five days, and would take another day to relocate to their safe house. Former pilot 03 would be on his way here in at least seven days. Assuming 02 and 05 would be here after that amount of time, Heero deduced he'd be alone in the house for about six days. That was fine by him. He preferred to be alone.

He had his laptop open on the coffee table, placed in front of the couch he was currently seated on. His fingers danced across the keyboard, pressing each key with a swift preciseness. The click of every key stroke seemed to echo throughout the vast emptiness of the house. The noise was both greatly irritating, and strangely pleasing.

It had been Winner's job to set up their squat spot, as Maxwell insisted on calling their hiding residence, and Heero had told him to be discreet about it. The last time 04 had made their housing decisions, one could mistake the place as a palace, fitting of a full royal family. This house was much smaller, but still one could see the obvious effort the blonde had put into giving his friends as much luxury to enjoy, for the brief time they were able to enjoy it.

The building they would all be staying in this time could almost be called a mansion. There was a fully stocked kitchen, and a dining room with a huge rectangular dinning table in it. It had at least three bathrooms on each floor, a pool that went from four to ten feet, and rooms for each of them, with more than enough extra rooms to spare.

The living room had a large leather couch, the one he was currently lounging on. It was placed near the center of the room, back facing the staircase to the second floor. It's front faced the wall ahead of it, which was dominated by a large flat screen TV. There was also a smaller leather couch, and a plush looking chocolate brown armchair, sat on either side of the larger couch. The other pieces of furniture angled accurately to face the TV better. And in between those and the couch, were side tables with lamps set on each.

In the center of the semicircle of furniture, stood the coffee table, atop a decorative oriental rug. It covered that section of the dark, polished hardwood floor.

The house had three floors besides the attic and the basement. It was an unnecessarily large -and suspicious- residence, but Quatre was no fool. He had made sure the building was hidden deep in the forest, kept away from any unwanted attention.

And, as an added bonus, Heero was looking forward to not having to share a room with Maxwell, like last time. The boy was a monster to live with. Always parading about in his constant array of motion. And always either talking on and on in some unfollowable rant, or doing something unpredictable and vexatiously distracting.

Well, his actions weren't vexatious, per say. It was more the fact that 02's actions were unpredictable that annoyed him. Heero was accustomed to being able to read people like a book. Analyzing their behavior, and figuring their next move before it happened. It was how he operated, and how he interacted with people. Watching how they moved and how they acted, and having an educated guess on what they would do so he would always have the upper hand.

But when it came to Duo Maxwell he had absolutely no upper hand at all. The braided fool was like a living wild card, and it was utterly impossible to figure him out.

Heero sighed at the very thought of the tiring teen, and picked up his laptop. He leaned back into the couch, and propped his sock covered feet up on the coffee table, placing the laptop down on his well fitted, jean covered legs. Setting his elbow against the armrest, he propped his jaw up on his fist, and blankly stared at the screen.

The hand that wasn't supporting his head was toying absentmindedly at a long string hanging, from a rip, in the hem of his forest green hoodie.

His thoughts swarmed about in his head, like a flock of birds around bread crumbs. Thoughts about his last mission, thoughts about how much easier it was to lay low without his gundam. Thoughts about what the next mission could be. And slowly the dullness of those thoughts were making his eyes heavy, and his head harder to hold up. He fought to keep himself awake, but a quick glance at the time told him that maybe some sleep would be good. It was 1:26am, and he's been up since four this morning.

He could have moved upstairs to the room that had been chosen for him. Where his bed was waiting for him. But he decide to stay in his spot on the couch. It was rather comfortable, with it's giving form and the cool feel of the leather against his warm body. It was endearing, in a way. He closed his laptop, encasing the room in darkness, and put it back on the table. Then he brought his legs over to lay on the couch with the rest of him.

He had his gun tucked away in his waist line, and was ready to deal with any possible intruder if that sort of situation arose, so he let himself rest easy for a while, drifting off as he curled a little into the leather of the couch.

.

.

.

It was around 3:30am when Duo Maxwell showed up to the correct destination of the safe house. He hid the pickup truck he'd stolen away in the brush of the forest. He kicked open the door, and stumbled his way out of the drivers seat, tripping over himself and falling down to the ground below.

"Dammit!" He hissed, pushing himself up to his knees, then slowly to his feet, balancing himself on the trunk of a tree to keep upright. He placed a hand over his side, feeling the warm wetness of blood seeping through the cloth covering the wound there. Looks like the makeshift bandaging wasn't working as well as he'd hoped. He growled again as his knees buckled beneath him, almost sending him back to the ground. "Fuck."

He hung his head as he felt the need to throw up, but kept his stomach under control in favor of moving forward.

"The quicker you get movin', the quicker you get there." Duo mumbled to himself in a motivational way. "Then you can throw up..."

Then he forced himself onward through the forest in the direction of the safe house.

It was only a few meters away, not even a half a mile, but it felt like twenty miles by the time he'd made it to the front door.

He climbed the stairs weakly, and gave a short cross between a chuckle, and a sigh of relief when he stopped to stand on the porch. He reached for the double doors with the hand that wasn't holding his guts inside his body, and turned the knob. When it wouldn't turn he came to the painful conclusion that the damn doors were locked.

He whimpered pathetically at his bad luck. He'd lost his lock pick a while ago on his mission, and even if he did have it, he doubted he had the patience, or will to take the time to pick the damn thing.

"Shit!" He coughed roughly, covering his mouth with his hand, tasting the blood forced up through his throat and over his tongue.

Duo glared at the door, portraying just how frustrated he was with his eyes. Then he raised a foot and kicked it forcefully into the left door, smashing it open and into the wall behind it with a resounding crash.

.

.

.

Heero was woken abruptly from his sleep by the banging of one of the main entrance double doors slamming open, and smacking into the wall with an urgent force.

The teen's prussian blue eyes snapped open, and he sprung from his spot on the couch. He quickly snatched his gun from the waist of his jeans, and aimed at the entrance of the building.

The doors had been locked, so it had either been picked or broken in. Considering the door had made a hole in the wall from the force used to open it, Heero assumed it hadn't been picked. Which also meant that the intruder was either an enemy, or someone who thought the house was empty and would be easy to break into. Heero really didn't care which, as long as this ended with the intruder either leaving immediately, or being tossed into the basement with a bullet in their head.

The armed teen watched as a figure teetered through the door and leaned heavily against the wall, panting heavily for breath. The shadowed figure's proportions suggested he was a male, and his height, being maybe an inch or two shorter than Heero, indicated he was young. Maybe the same age as himself. The intruder leaned the side of his head against the wall, and coughed violently. The hacking sounded awful, like he had just coughed up water taken into the lungs from drowning, or like he had strep throat.

Heero watched as the boy shifted against the wall, leaning his back against it, head tilting back in exhaustion. It seemed the other teen had yet to detect his presence. He continued watching as the shadow figure's arm moved away from it's place, pressed across his stomach, to be held out in front of him, fingers shifting around as if covered in something nasty.

"...Christ, I'm a mess..."

He knew that voice. It was raspy, and not nearly as high spirited as it normally was, but Heero recognized it non the less.

A second later, Heero had moved to the part of the protruding wall, separating the front entrance from the living room and kitchen. Just around the corner was the power switches for the living room lights, ceiling fans, porch lights, and foyer lights. He flicked on the lights to the foyer, lowering his gun when his suspicions were confirmed.

Duo Maxwell looked at him with wide, violet eyes, straightening up from off of the wall, but keeping one hand against it to keep himself up. His other arm caught the end of his black jacket, tugging it over to hide the obviously horrible wound from Heero's quickly adjusting eyes.

Heero took in the sight of 02, gaze calculating. His usually braided hair was undone, flowing down his back and hanging in his flushed, dirty face in tangled coppery brown strands. He had no shirt on, and his jacket was hanging over his shoulders like a cape. He struggled to stay upright with his hand on the wall to balance himself.

It was apparent that he was attempting to make it look like he was fine, but his legs were too shaky to convince. A wide grin stretched across his face as he looked at Heero, eyes tired, and heavy.

"Hey, Heero." Duo laughed, trying so hard to make it seem like he was alright. "Is Quat here?"

He felt like shit, and that motivational throw up speech from earlier was going to come back to bite him in the ass real quick if he didn't do something to fix this soon.

"Assuming you're referring to Quatre; no, he isn't." Heero answered, tucking his gun away back into his waistband. His monotone voice, and expressionless face ever present.

"Dammit..!" Duo muttered under his breath, but that didn't stop Heero from hearing it.

"You know where the first aid is? I got a little cut to take care of." He explained vaguely, attempting to make it seem less serious than it really was.

He stumbled forward a little, letting his hand slide along the wall to catch himself. He didn't realize though, that his hand had been covered in the blood from his wound, and he had left a hand print and a smear of red along the wall as he moved.

But Heero noticed. Heero also noted the blood dripping onto the floor from the wound that was somewhere in the torso, judging by the trajectory of the blood droplets, and how Duo insisted on covering his upper half with the side of his unzipped jacket.

Heero was about to order him to sit down, but -before he could- Duo hunched over even further and began hacking again. This time it was more scratchy, as if he were struggling to breath.

Purple eyes glanced around the left corner and into the kitchen, spotting a trashcan just beyond the threshold of the kitchen entrance. He ran quickly over to it and collapsed to his knees, clutching onto the edges of the can. He leaned over it and lurched, emptying his stomach into the trash bag inside.

Duo puked once before taking a deep gasp of breath and puking again. Then he repeated the process three more times.

Feeling the need to assist him, Heero walked over to Duo's side, crouching down beside him and gathering his long brown hair up behind his head, to keep it out of the way. The wounded teenager heaved a few more times until his body decided it was done. Then he started coughing again, and breathing shakily.

Heero gave him a minute, just to make sure he was really done.

When he was sure Duo was well enough to be removed from the can, he began to stand him up and walk him over to the living room. Duo tried to pull away, to walk on his own, but Heero wasn't having any of it, and only pulled him back. Once they reached the couch Duo dropped down onto it almost too quickly. He laid on his back and groaned at the pain of his wound, still covering it to keep it away from Heero's eyes.

"Uuugh..." He moaned, rubbing at one of the blood dried grazes on his face.

"Hey, buddy..." Duo laughed, a little breathless in his injured state. "I'm not doin' so good..."

"I'd gathered that." Heero stated.

He stood over the second pilot, waiting for Duo to remove his jacket, and let him see the damage inflicted on him. But 02 didn't move to take the jacket away. Instead, he clung to it a little tighter; pulling it closer, like it was some kind of shield.

"Duo." Heero said, sitting down on the portion of couch left beside the other's legs. "How badly are you injured?"

"Need stitches..." He chuckled, lifting his other hand to push his bangs back out of his face. But they only fell right back where they were, making him smear even more blood and dirt over his forehead for nothing. "Some pain killers would be awesome... We got any a those..?"

"I think so. But that's not what I meant. Let me see your injuries." Heero ordered.

Duo looked almost panicked for a split second, before smiling and shaking his head a little.

"Nah... It's cool, man. It's only a little c-cut...I'll just go fix it right up... Don't worry about it." He tried to brush it off, struggling to sit up from the couch, and get up to find whatever could help him close up his wounds. He hissed as he pushed himself up on his elbow, arm still holding his jacket secure to his torso.

"You can't even hardly walk on your own." Heero pointed out.

He stood up and walked around the arm of the couch, pushing Duo's head back down to lay against the armrest, as he passed. "I'll go get the first aid kit. You stay here."

Duo groaned, allowing himself to be pushed back down into the couch. "Sure, whatever..."

Heero walked passed the staircase, and into the hallway. He passed three closed doorways before stopping at the correct one. After opening the door, he walked into the bathroom; turning on the lights before heading over toward the sink.

Under the sink were two cabinets containing towels, toiletries, that kind of stuff. It also held the first aid that he was searching for and he removed it from the cabinets before quickly exiting the room, and returning back to Duo's side.

Once he was around the couch, Heero sat back in his spot beside Duo's legs. He set the box down on the coffee table, and turned back to the wounded teen, who still covered his torso like it was some important secret.

"Move your arm." Heero ordered, opening the box, and taking out the needle and thread that would be used to fix whatever injury the other bared. He also gathered some pain meds, and alcohol pads to clean the wound before messing with it.

Duo scooted up the couch a little more, leaning his shoulders against the armrest as he tried to sit up again.

"I... I can do it myself, you know..." Duo said with a smirk, still trying to weasel his way out of letting Heero see his wounds.

"I'm sure you can." Heero stated, pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie so they wouldn't get any more stained with the other's blood. "But I'm going to make sure it's done right."

Duo's smirk fell, leaving a more serious look on his face. He only lay there for a few moments, eyes locked on Heero's, in almost a glare, as if physically requesting him to back off. But Heero was stubborn. Duo wasn't going to get out of this, and he knew that.

02 sighed in defeat, and slouched back down in his spot.

"Alright, Heero. You win." He said, letting his shoulders sink back down to let his head rest against the arm of the couch. "Just... go easy on me, will ya..."

Shaky fingers clenched around the fold of his black jacket, pulling it back hesitantly to uncover the gruesome wound. It was bandaged roughly by a folded white shirt that was secured in place by duck tape. There were only a few spots of white left on the shirt, the rest of it dyed a vibrant crimson. Still drying blood trails streaked across finley tanned skin, canvased over battle toned muscles.

He was covered in dirt, and blood, and sweat, and, by the flushed redness of his face, Heero assumed he also had contracted a fever.

He set to work to unbandage -if you could even call the makeshift patch job a bandage- the wound and uncover the damage 02 had been carrying around. He picked at the edges of the blood slicked tape, and peeled the secures away from Duo's skin. He took the wadded up shirt with him, as he pulled up the five strips of tape holding it's sides down.

Drying blood, and pieces of flesh came up with it as it was peeled away. Duo hissed, biting down on his lip to keep from yelling.

He hadn't been lying, it was a cut.

But it wasn't at all a little one. It was etched across Duo's left side, the side facing Heero, and it was about three and a half inches long. It sliced horizontally through his tan, blood muddled skin, just a little ways below his chest, encroaching over his abs. It was deep enough to puncture something, but, by the looks of it, nothing was internally damaged.

He sure was lucky. But he'd lost so much blood, and Heero wondered how he'd managed to walk his way here.

Heero was unaffected by the severity of the injury, but that didn't mean he was indifferent to it. While he didn't flinch at it, or wince, on the inside he was growing just a tad bit uneasy with how bad it looked.

"Are these scorch marks, and burns around it?" Heero asked in his unfazed, monotone voice.

"Yeah.." Duo laughed, leaning his head back, and letting it lull to the side a bit. "It was bleedin' real bad at first... worse then it is now. I tried closin' it up by burnin' it..."

"That was stupid. A wound can infect easily after cauterization." Heero stated blankly. But he knew it was probably one of the best things Duo could have done for it. If he'd lost any more blood he probably would have died.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time..." Duo snickered tiredly.

"Swallow these." Heero ordered, dumping two pain killers from their bottle, and holding them out for 02 to take.

Duo took them without question, and downed them gratefully. Heero put the pill bottle down and took some of the alcohol pads, ready to start disinfecting the wound.

"This is going to hurt."

Heero gave him no time to prepare himself for the burning of hell fire stinging his wound upon impact with the alcohol.

Duo yipped loudly, which morphed into a whiny groan. He clawed his fingers into the leather jacket that laid under him, and writhed slightly in his place as Heero cleaned the cut. Heero knew the pain killers had yet to set into affect. So he figured he'd keep him talking to keep his mind off the pain.

"How long have you been bleeding out like this?"

"A-a few uh... hours..."

"What happened?"

"...Doesn't matter..." Duo muttered, resting his right arm over his face, and hiding his violet eyes in the crook of his elbow. "The mission was a success, if th-that's what you're wondering..." Heero's brows narrowed down at the answer. He wasn't sure why, but it got under his skin.

"That's not what I was wondering." He stated, tossing away the alcohol wipe, and getting a new one. A fair amount of dirt still refused to move away from the cut. "I asked how this happened. Not the status completion of your mission."

Duo peeked a weary eye at him from under his arm, then chuckled.

"Oh ho... so Mr. perfect soldier's concerned for me, is he..?" Duo asked sarcastically. He was expecting an answer to shoot him down, like always. Heero probably only wanted to know exactly how he was hurt so he'd know if anything was internally damaged. And, in turn, would know how to mend it.

"If that's what you want to think, then sure." Heero said, brushing a more sensitive burn over the cut. Duo gasped, shooting up a little at the sharp pain, causing Heero to pull his hands away, and wait for him to calm down. The sudden movement put more strain on his already aching muscles, and he growled at himself for moving before settling back down in his place. Then Heero went back to disinfecting the injury.

He let Heero's answer sink in, and when the words finally registered into his mind he felt his face heat up even more than it had already been from his fever.

'Did he actually just half admit to being worried about me?' Duo thought, letting his arm fall back between himself and the leather back support of the couch.

He let his eyes trail up to Heero's face, taking in his appearance, and saving it to his memory. Dark, chocolate brown hair hanging in the deep prussian eyes that were currently staring intently at his injury. Hands working diligently to fix him up, and make him better. He looked good in normal clothes. His favorite color of a hoodie, and comfy looking, worn jeans. It suited him much better than his usual green sleeveless tucked into shorts. He seemed more comfortable this way. More human.

It was no big secret that he had sort of a thing for the former 01 Gundam pilot. It's not like it was a private, hush-hush, tell no one thing. It's just that no one had ever asked, so he hadn't shared it with anyone. Don't ask, don't tell. Right? But it's not like it mattered anyway. It was only a flippant little crush, and even if it was something deeper, it's not like he had a chance. After all, Heero had that girl of his. Like hell he'd trade a beautiful girl like that for... him.

But knowing that Heero had at least enough feelings for him to be concerned, that was enough to make his entire week.

"So, are you going to tell me, or not?" Heero asked, growing impatient with Duo's lack of an answer.

Duo swallowed the pride he'd been keeping by hiding his temporary frailty, and weakness, and decided to tell the other what happened.

"Just for the record... I haven't lost my touch in stealth. I was just caught off guard..." Duo began.

Heero's eyes moved up to connect with his before Duo looked away in his embarrassment.

This sucked! He shouldn't have to be this disgustingly vulnerable in front of Heero of all people. Heero dropped his eyes back to the other's injury as Duo went on with his story.

"It was one of those missions where I had to get in, destroy their computer system and new artillery, then get out... So I broke into this military base. Simple enough... couldn't have been any easier, actually." Duo laughed, recalling the poor security. "Mission went well too. I planted a virus in the system, set up bombs through the weapons arsenal... destroyed their whole base, pretty much. But I guess I miscalculated the reach of the blasts... I ended up destroying both my main escape rout, and my back up escape rout." He said, bashfully scratching his head.

"Tried coming up with something quick, but was caught up with some soldiers who were on their way to see what all was left of their shit I wrecked... Played along with 'em for a while until we were outside in the court yard... Just outside their boundary fence was a forest, so I figured that was my best bet. When they were distracted I ran for it... I couldn't tell you why they didn't have guns on them, but I sure was lucky they didn't. They chased after me, and one asshole had a sword."

"Hold still." Heero commanded. Now done cleaning the wound, and ready to start stitching. It was hard enough stitching up a side wound, what with the expanding, and contracting of the torso, from breathing. But that added with the animated speech of the overactively imaginative L2 resident, was not -the slightest bit- an easy task. He clipped the stitching thread with his teeth, since there weren't any scissors in the first aid box. Then he wiped the needle and string down with another alcohol pad, and positioned it to the edge of the cut, pausing for a moment.

"Ready?"

"Y-you're about to stick a needle in my side... I'm about as ready as I'll ever be." Duo laughed. And with that, Heero pierced the needle into burnt flesh and proceeded in stitching up the large cut.

Duo muffled a loud yell behind a bitten lip. His legs instinctively moving closer to his body, and hands clutching at the couch through the fabric of his blood drenched jacket. "D... damn... could you be any gentler there, chief..?"

"Keep talking about your mission. If your mind's focused on that, it'll hurt less." Heero commanded, ignoring the sarcastic statement from before.

"Yeah, right..." Duo doubted, wincing again when Heero pushed the needle through the other side of his severed flesh and tugged to pull the two sides together. "Alright... so, like I said, this guy had a sword. A sword! What kind of military base soldiers run around with swords instead of guns? It's idiocy!"

"Would you prefer they had their firearms, and killed you?" Heero asked blankly.

"Maybe. Depends on how well you stitch up that damn hole." Duo chuckled. In response Heero only tugged at the next stitch to close the cut even further. Duo grit his teeth, and turned his head to groan into his arm. "Okay... I get it... no dissin' the stitching work..."

"Go on with your story."

"Right. Okay... so, sword guy is runnin' me down... chasin' me around the building, and ends up cornerin' me. Guess he was aimin' to slice me in half or somethin', but I dodged it... He still got me, though... that's where this little beauty came from." He explained, pointing at the cut.

"He ended up cutting through the fence though, and after knocking him out I went through the hole, and into the forest. Th- then the guy's buddies showed up, and followed after me... I found a nice spot to hide in the brush, and tied my shirt around me to cover the cut... But they found m... me, and then magically they had guns I guess... Started shooting at me, and I had to crawl around through the dirt to find a new hiding spot... only got away 'cause I found a waterway to dunk into... Followed it right out to some lake somewhere."

Duo was growing annoyed with laying on his hair. Shifting around was tugging at it uncomfortably, so he sat up a little, making Heero stop stitching, and glare at him for moving around. But he didn't say anything, only watched as Duo ran his hands along the back of his head, collecting the long brown hair behind him in a ponytail. Then he laid back down, throwing the mass of hair over the armrest so it was out of the way.

"Then what?" Heero asked, wanting 02 to keep talking. The method of focusing on something else was working quite well, and he was only halfway through the stitching. But it seemed like the pain killers were taking a bit of affect now, so maybe he was just a bit curious about what happened next.

Duo, though, was a little caught off guard. Heero wanted to know more? But that was his whole mission. Though, he guessed he could go on.

"Well..." Duo started, looking up at the ceiling. "I found my way into a town... Stole a truck there. There was a lighter , and some duck tape in the glove box, so I burned the wound closed, and fixed myself up with that A-grade bandaging you saw earlier... Now I'm here..."

Now he was done, and Heero still had a ways to go with mending his side.

"Keep talking." Heero demanded.

"There's nothing much to say..."

"Whatever you want to talk about. Just keep talking."

"I don't really wanna' keep talkin' though..." Duo groaned, reaching back to pull up a strand of his hair to play with. "What do you wanna' talk about?"

Heero sighed in irritation, thinking up something at the top of his head.

"Why'd you request Quatre?" Heero asked, not coming up with anything else.

"Huh?" Duo looked confused.

"When you were asking if he was here earlier. What do you need him for?"

"Oh!" Duo laughed. "I was hoping he could fix me up. The guy's got the gentle touch of a mother, and he's great at patching up wounds... I like havin' him do the job for me when I don't think I can do it myself." The copper brunette explained, soft smile on his face while thinking of the last time he'd had Q fix him up. The poor blonde looked like he was about to feint from worry over the bullet wound in his shoulder. But he took care of it so well that Duo wasn't even left with a scar.

Heero mulled the explanation over in his head. The more he thought about it, the more it didn't make sense. He had requested Quatre to look over, and stitch his wounds. But he had flat out refused to give Heero even a glimpse of the injury, until he'd shown him he had no choice in the matter.

He said he asked Quatre to mend his wounds when he thought he couldn't do it himself. But if Duo thought he couldn't handle the injury he carried, on his own, then why had he been turning Heero down, and pushing him away?

Heero could understand that one would want Quatre's gentleness to be handling their injuries, but what if Quatre were gone and Trowa, or Wufei were here with him. Would Duo have willingly gone to them for help? Or would he have been just as cagey, and reluctant as he had been with Heero earlier?

No, he would have accepted their aid. Heero could recall another time, in a previous safe house. Duo had fallen off the roof, and scraped his back pretty bad on the way down. It was only himself, Duo, and Trowa there that time, and Duo immediately came inside and asked where Trowa was. At the time Heero had thought nothing of it.

Then another time, when only Quatre was absent from the mission. Trowa and Duo had built a fire outside the safe house, and Duo had ended up burning himself. He then rushed through the house to find Wufei, who apparently knew more on second degree burns than Trowa did. When Heero had asked what Duo was freaking out about, he had told him it was nothing, despite knowing that Heero knew all there was to know on treating any kind of burn. But, again, he hadn't thought it strange at all when Trowa told him later that Duo was looking for the L5 teen to help with an injury.

And yet another time, when it was only the two of them on a mission. Duo had been shot in the back of the leg. Heero had offered to help, but the braided male had turned him down. Later that night he'd dug the bullet out himself, and was unable to care for it properly because the wound was behind him. He'd been limping around for a while after that, all because he didn't trust Heero enough to seek his help.

Was that it? Did Duo not trust him? He'd said that he preferred Quatre's gentle touch. Was Heero not careful enough? Was he too rough when he handled wounds?

"If you thought you couldn't treat your own injury, then why did you refuse to let me help you at first?" Heero asked.

He was still trying to keep Duo's mind off of the needle weaving in and out of his flesh, but, again, was also genuinely curious for the answer. Duo's violet eyes widened a bit as he looked at his friend's face. It was downcast, with dark bangs covering his eyes. Then Heero looked up to meet Duo's gaze, pausing for a moment, after carefully pulling the needle up and tightening the next stitch.

"I... uh...w-well, I... um.." He was having a hard time concentrating. Heero's hands had stopped, and now rested against his bare skin. His mind was having a hard time focusing on anything else but that, and it turned his face even redder.

"Am I bad at tending wounds? Or do you simply trust, or prefer the others over me?" Heero asked, his monotone voice still holding up nicely, even though, by the way he phrased the question, he seemed a bit miffed. Or, at least, that's how it seemed to Duo.

"N-no...no that's not it." Duo stuttered. "It's just... I- I don't know man... I... I just thought I could, maybe, try doin' it myself before pissin' you off with my neediness." Duo stated, as Heero began stitching again.

It wasn't a complete lie. He did assume that asking the other to help him with his injury would, on some level, irritate him. He was the perfect soldier, he had better things to do than mend the wound of stupid, street rat, Duo Maxwell.

The truth was, he got injured a lot. A hell of a lot more than any of the other guys, for some reason. He learned to accept it, long ago, that the universe simply hated him, and would do anything within it's power to screw him over, in any way possible. But he didn't want to look weak. He didn't want Heero thinking he was weak.

Heero could tell it was a lie. Or at least not the full truth. Duo would tell you himself that he never lies. There's a reason for that. It's not that he won't ever lie to someone. It's just that he can't lie. When he lies, his eyes look to his right, and he's always called out on it.

And right now he was staring very intently at the backrest leather cushions of the couch, that happened to be at his right side. But Heero didn't push him. If Duo didn't trust him then that wasn't his problem. Heero really had no room to judge; he didn't trust anyone. Duo, and the rest of their team, included. So then why was he getting so set off by this?

"Neediness can save your life sometimes." Heero pointed out, finishing up the last two stitches. He tugged the string gingerly to tighten them up, before tying off the stitching. "I wouldn't have gotten mad if you had asked for my help. That'd be stupid, you idiot."

Still not having scissors to cut the string, Heero curled it around his finger, and pulled it out tightly. He lowered himself down to the base of the string, and bit just above the knot holding the stitches together. When it didn't snap the first time, Heero came even closer, lips brushing over his finished stitching work, as his teeth worked at detaching the excess string.

Duo was frozen in place, breath catching in his throat, and fingers curling painfully around his bloody, black jacket. He could feel Heero's mouth scraping across his wound. But it wasn't unpleasant. It didn't hurt at all, it was gentle, and fleeting. It was almost too much to handle; Heero's lips ghosting over his abs softly, at the corner of his now sealed cut.

Duo's face couldn't have gotten any redder. He slowly took in a ragged breath, biting on his bottom lip to keep himself silent. The air in his lungs left shortly after being taken in, and he couldn't stop. He tried, but he couldn't control his slightly panicked breathing. Each breath was quick and heavy, his belly moving in a rhythmic way under Heero's lips.

Then the clip of the string was heard, and Heero raised his head from Duo's tummy. He tossed the string, and needle into the box, and his dark blue eyes flicked up to look at Duo. He was sitting up farther now, shoulders propped up by the armrest. His knuckles were white, clenched around the fabric of his jacket, and his violet eyes were wide. His face was scarlet red, and his lips were pursed into a thin line.

"What's wrong?" Heero asked, scooting forward a bit, and pressing the back of his hand against Duo's forehead. Duo let his eyes fall shut as he leaned into Heero's cool touch.

The feel of his feverish skin was hot, and damp. Heero retracted his hand.

"As I thought. You're burning up." He stated, standing from the couch and gathering the first aid box to take with him. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

Duo didn't reply, only watched in a daze as Heero walked away. His overexertion, blood loss, and exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him. To keep himself awake, Duo sat up from his position on the couch. He hissed loudly as he got to his feet, leaning against the couch to keep himself upright.

After throwing his jacket on the floor he undid his pants; throwing them to join his jacket, in a heap, on the floor. He was left in only the maroon red boxers that covered his lower half. But that was alright. The room was too hot for him, and he was done with those filthy clothes.

The couch welcomed him with warm leather, heated from his burning skin from where he'd laid before. Duo leaned against the cooler backrest of the furniture, crossed his legs, and held his ankles, dozing off slightly against the cold leather of the couch.

.

.

.

"Duo." Heero's voice shook him awake. "Wake up. You're not done yet."

Duo opened his eyes to look at his friend, who was now sitting very close to him.

"What is it..?" He whined, looking at Heero strangely for waking him from his well deserved sleep.

"Swallow these." Heero said, holding out two redish brown pills, and one white one.

"What are they..?" Duo mumbled, holding out his hand to take the offered medication.

"Something to bring your fever down."

Duo hummed in acceptance, and swallowed the pills down quickly. After they were down his throat, Heero took a bandage roll and began wrapping it around Duo's torso. The stitches needed to be kept clean, and neat, so they didn't get infected. Duo sat up as straight as he could, and struggled to stay awake as the other wrapped the bandages around him securely. Once they were wound around his thin body, Heero pinned the end of the bandage to the rest of it, to keep it in place.

Then Duo sat back again, as his friend picked up a damp washcloth, and smoothed it over Duo's blood, and dirt smeared face. He wiped over the left side first, then moved to the right, cleaning the dried sweat, and grime away.

"Hey..." Duo said, gaining Heero's attention. "You... you got.. somethin'.. on your..." The boy stumbled over his words, pointing to Heero's bottom lip.

Heero took the corner of the, now, brown and red washcloth, no longer white from face filth. He wiped it over his mouth, and pulled it away to see a small spot of red. Some of Duo's blood must have gotten on him when he was cutting the string.

"Are you hurt?" Duo asked, sounding more curious than worried. Heero shook his head.

"No. It's your blood." He replied, going back to cleaning Duo's face.

"Yuck..." Duo muttered, dozing off again. This time to the soothing feeling of a cool, wet cloth cleaning him up.

...

Heero watched Duo's vibrant amethyst eyes fell closed as he caved in to sleep. He finished cleaning Duo's face, and stood from the couch, grabbing the boy's shoulders and guiding him down to lean on the armrest. After straightening his legs out from their crossed position, Heero hooked his arm under his knees and moved him down so he was laying on his back.

He folded up the washcloth onto it's clean side, and placed it down over Duo's forehead. The armchair had a blanket hanging over the top of it, so he walked over to it, and took the blanket for his friend. He unfolded it, and laid it over Duo's unconscious form, making sure the former pilot was set for the night.

Afterwords, he cleaned off the coffee table, and took Duo's filthy clothes to the basement to throw them in the washer, along with his hoodie that had a bit of blood on it. He changed the bag in the kitchen trashcan, and dragged it over to the couch, just in case Duo woke up at some point, and needed to vomit. He also shut the broken front door, and tied the knobs together with some rope he'd found in the basement. Then he picked up his laptop, and went upstairs to his room.

Heero pulled on a grey t-shirt, then climbed into his bed, laying his laptop beside him. It was now 4:53 in the morning, and he was in major need for some sleep, but he couldn't get himself to go under. He just kept thinking about all the things that could go wrong down stairs while he was asleep. He wasn't meaning to, the thoughts were just coming to him.

What if Duo had been internally injured, and by the time they realized it it'd already been too late. Or what if someone broke in, and killed Duo? He was unarmed, and too sick, and injured to defend himself.

Heero was quickly growing annoyed with his own mind. After trying to ignore it, only more and more bad turned scenarios materialized in his head.

Finally he gave in to it's persistent call. He couldn't rest easy with the thought of that idiot somehow getting himself killed in the middle of the night. So he grabbed a thin, spare blanket from the foot of his bed, and headed downstairs again. Once in the living room he walked around to the little couch, laying down on it and then stretching out to become more comfortable. He spread the blanket out over himself, and settled into the leather, just like he had earlier on the big couch.

Prussian blue eyes glanced over at the sleeping teen on the larger couch. Duo had thrown his arms over his head in his sleep, and his hair cascaded down the edge of the couch, and onto the floor below. One leg had risen up from laying straight down to being bent, flat soul to the leather cushions, while the other dangled over the edge. He wondered how the smart ass could be so injured, but still snore so loudly, and lay so comfortably. Like he didn't have duties, responsibilities, obligations, or even worries. It was just... amusing.

Heero thought about turning off the foyer lights, to entrench the room in sleep friendly darkness, but decided against it, curling onto his side.

Duo truly was an amusing sight to behold.


Again, hope you all enjoyed :) If not, and it turned out to be a complete failure, please tell me so I can see what I can do to improve it.

Thank you.