The Pain of Love
A Duo
angst story arc
by
Yanagi-sen
Gundam
Wing songfic
Usual
disclaimers apply. These poor broken
souls are not mine, I'll put them back when they're fixed. Till then they are mine to torment and
torture, just a little, I promise. Song's
by Type O Negative, I did play with the lyrics, but not too much. Also, used the online translator again, so
don't blame me; it's been too long since high school French class.
Warnings:
shonen ai, implied yaoi, angst,
language, OOCness, Heero being a bastard (gomen!)
/
character thoughts /
Author's
note: This story takes place a several months after Heero gets Zero back from
Zechs. This is an Alternate Universe
where the final battle hasn't happened, the White Fang hasn't made an
appearance, and the war continues into AC 196.
Part
1 "Too Late: Frozen"
AC
196: Winter
It was late and he was tired, so
very tired. It wasn't that the mission
had been difficult; he'd only been fighting Leos after all, just
exhausting. He checked to make sure he
hadn't been followed; though he doubted anyone could track his Deathscythe, not
in full stealth mode. The coast was
clear and Duo slipped his Gundam into the cave. When he'd talked with the Q-man, the blond pilot had declared it
'perfect for hiding Gundams and close to the safehouse.' "Close, my ass! I stow you, pal, and then I gotta hike two miles through the
woods, at night, in the rain. Check
that, sleet." He sighed. "Deathscythe, old buddy, it's just not my
night."
He considered just staying right
where he was. It wouldn't be the first
time he'd slept in the cockpit.
"Nah. Qat's expecting me. He'd get all kinds of upset and have kittens
if I didn't show." Wearily, Duo secured
the Gundam and climbed to the ground.
Hefting his pack, he headed out into the night. Had he been a little more awake, he might
have noticed Wing Zero tucked into the back of the cave.
"Damn, damn, damn! Duo no baka! Why don't I ever remember to bring a coat?!" The sleety rain fell in big, wet drops,
landing indiscriminately on trees, bushes, and a certain tired Gundam
pilot. His clothes were soaked through
in no time. Duo felt chilled to the bone, he didn't have enough meat on his
slender frame to provide any protection from the cold. He cursed again; he'd left his hat in the
cockpit too. The freezing water ran
down his hair and into his eyes. He
slipped in the icy mud and fell. He
struggled to his feet, swearing. His
time with the Sweepers had left him with quite an impressive vocabulary in
several different languages. He slid
more than walked down the last part of the hill. Picking himself up he crossed the lawn and climbed the steps to
the door.
"I'm cold, tired, and cranky. Can this night possibly get any worse?" He knocked on the door. "Of course, a new place and I don't have a
key." He bounced up and down, trying to
get warm, and knocked again. "Come on
people, I'm freezing out here!" Finally
Duo heard the locks being released and the door swung open. "Well it's 'bout damn time! What took you…" Standing in the door, was Heero Yuy.
So will you say, you're very
sorry?
"It won't happen again - forgive me?"…
Duo stood in the doorway,
speechless. Heero turned and walked
back to his computer. He sat down and
resumed typing. Duo forced his shocked
and exhausted body to step inside.
Mechanically, he shut and locked the door. That done, his numb mind didn't know what else to do. He just stood there, freezing water and mud
pooling around his cold feet, staring at his ex-lover's back. Heero hadn't even spoken a word. Two months since he'd walked out, and not
even a word! Let alone an explanation
or a real apology. Duo's frozen mind
registered footsteps and then Quatre appeared in the room.
"Heero, who was…Oh, Duo-kun,
okaeri! You made it. Hey guys, Duo's here! How was the mission?" The Arabian hurried over to take his
bag. Wufei sauntered in, arrogant smirk
on his face, with Trowa trailing along behind.
They all used Japanese by common consent when together, it was the only
language besides English that they all had in common. And Heero didn't like English.
Duo tried not to take that personally.
But for some reason the familiar words felt like tiny daggers in Duo's
soul tonight. They just emphasized the
loss he'd felt since Heero'd walked out.
Duo nodded to the blond boy. "Quatre.
Mission was fine." He forced
himself to release the death grip he had on the bag, relinquishing it to the
boy.
"Konban wa, Maxwell. I trust you accomplished the
objectives?" Wufei seemed to be itching
for one of their fights, but Duo was just too tired to rise to the bait
tonight.
"Yeah, Wufei. I got it."
He reached inside his outer shirt and pulled out a slender disk. He tossed it to the Chinese pilot. "Sorry it's a bit wet. I forgot a coat." Wufei's eyebrows nearly met his hairline. /Maxwell is being civil? And actually used my real name? Something has to be wrong. / He frowned.
The braided pilot shivered.
Quatre jumped to take off Duo's
black minister's shirt, while Trowa knelt to remove his boots. Wufei handed the disk off to Heero and
watched with concern. Even as tired as
the American obviously was, something else had to be up. He was being too quiet. Quatre finally got through the two layers of
shirt and laid a small hand against the pilot's chest. His skin was cold and clammy, the muscles
twitching in an effort to generate warmth.
"Allah! Duo-kun, you're soaked
through. You're freezing!"
He placed a hand on the blond
pilot's shoulder for balance as Trowa pulled off his muddy, wet boots. "Yeah, as I said, I forgot my coat." He shivered violently.
"Go and get in a hot shower. You're going to get sick if you don't get
out of those clothes."
"Sure, Quatre, whatever." Duo numbly walked up the stairs, shaking
with cold and leaning on the rail for support.
The others exchanged worried looks.
It was as if the life had been sucked right out of their friend.
"What's with Maxwell?"
"Got me. Tro?" Trowa looked over
at the fifth member of their little group.
The one, who hadn't uttered a word, hadn't even turned from his
computer. Wufei frowned. /Yuy has a lot to answer for. /
Time will not heal these
wounds.
And I'm bleeding because of you…
The hot spray felt good. He was so cold, inside and out. He always felt dirty after a mission. Even if he didn't get physically dirty, he
always felt dirty. It was a
psychological thing, trying to wash away the mental blood that stained his
hands. /Humph, me and Lady MacBeth.
/ He turned the water up as hot as he
could stand to rinse away the grime from his mission, and try to chase away the
numbness in his soul. His body was on
autopilot as he washed his hair. That
chore complete, he just stood and let the water flow over him. But tonight the ritual didn't soothe the
thoughts circling wildly in his mind.
/Why? Why the Hell did Heero have to show up here? Why tonight of all nights when I have no
energy for acting? I'm sure the others
noticed. They had to have noticed. And I was doing so well, convincing them
that I was fine. / He leaned his head
against the wall. /Two months,
Heero. Two months without an
explanation. Then you just show up and
act like nothing ever happened and everything is fine. Well it isn't. And I don't know if I can deal with you right now. / He knocked his forehead against the
wall. /I should've stayed in
Deathscythe. I could've just called in
and told them where I was. Damn you,
Heero! /
His hands clenched tight in
anger. He didn't even notice when blood
started oozing from his palms. /Why
didn't Qat tell me? He knows what the
bastard did to me. He knows what
happened, as much as I do. Why didn't
he warn me? / He sighed and took a deep
breath. /I shouldn't blame him; maybe
he didn't know Heero was going to show up.
He does have a tendency to appear when you least expect him. /
Was everything we had a
joke?
I've run out of patience, tears, and hope…
Duo rested his cheek against the
tiles and let the water stream over his face.
/Heero. Why did you have to pick
tonight? I'm so damn tired. I should get out of here. Get out and go to bed. Maybe get something to eat. / The first tear spilled out to mingle with
the water already running down his face.
/I should get out. I gotta pull
myself together. Heero. Why? /
He sank down the wall to kneel beneath the spray. /Boys don't cry. / The tears ran in earnest as he crossed his arms, hugging himself,
blood running off his fingers. /Boys
don't cry. /
Quatre knocked on the bathroom
door. "Duo?" He'd been in there a long time.
"Duo-kun, daijoubu desu ka?" The
only sound the boy could hear was the hiss of the shower. He knocked again. "Duo, I'm coming in."
Nothing. Quatre tried the door;
it was unlocked, unusual for American. He
cracked it. "Duo?" Steam filled the small room. The blond pilot shut the door behind him,
automatically turning the lock. He had
a feeling they would need the privacy.
"Duo-kun, are you all right in
there?"
Love does not conquer all,
and I'm screaming because of you…
"Quatre?" Maybe it was the broken tone of his voice, or the quick, hitching
breaths, or the dull ache in his own chest; but Quatre knew Duo was far from
okay. The Arabian pulled the shower
door open a bit and gasped. The boy was
huddled on the floor of the stall, crying as if his heart was broken. /Which isn't far from the truth. Oh, Heero, how could you do this to him?
/ Quatre couldn't remember seeing Duo
like this before. Something else caught
his eye, the blood tingeing the water pink.
The boy tilted his face to look up
at him. The amethyst eyes, normally so
full of energy and mischief; were red-rimmed and puffy. He dashed away the tears with the back of
his hand. "Sorry, Qat. I just can't stop." He couldn't help but notice that the boy had
switched to English, something he only did when he was very tired, or extremely
upset. Quatre had already removed his
vest and socks and was working on his shirt.
"That's okay. I understand."
Quatre dropped the rest of his
clothes in a pile and stepped into the shower. He knelt behind Duo and wrapped his arms around the sobbing
boy. He surreptitiously checked the
thin wrists, no lacerations. He turned
over the boy's hands, carefully opening the white-knuckled fists. There, several half-moon shaped cuts oozing
bright red blood. He sighed with
relief, he'd had been afraid Duo had done something more serious. He put all the comfort he had into the
embrace. The warm water fell over them
like a gentle, soothing rain. Despite
the heat, the boy still shivered and felt a bit chilled to Quatre. /Not a good
sign. /
Duo pressed the heels of his hands
against his eyes. "I'm sorry…I'm
sorry…"
"For what?" Quatre asked gently.
"Boys don't cry." The blond pulled back slightly.
"Oh, really? Why not?"
He rubbed Duo's back soothingly.
The boy froze, his ragged breathing
the only motion. Finally he took a deep
breath and answered. "I duh know."
"Then why worry about it?" Quatre gathered the long chestnut locks and
draped them over one thin shoulder, out of the immediate danger of being pulled
into the drain. He didn't even want to
imagine the work involved if any of it got stuck. Duo sat down on the floor and wrapped his arms around his legs,
resting his head on his knees. Quatre
got the sense that he was trying to shut himself away from everyone and
everything. It was so unlike him. Duo was always the one who lived his
emotions to his fingertips. /But then
again, how much do we really know about each other? He works so hard to mask his pain; he may not even know where the 'real Duo' is anymore. / His body language screamed resignation and
defeat. Quatre shifted to sit beside
him, wiping the water from his face.
"Why, Qat? Why did he come here?"
"I don't know. He didn't say. But what you should really ask yourself is what are you do you want to do about him?"
Too late for apologies…
"I…I don't know. I hate him…and yet…" He hunched over, hiding. Quatre draped an arm over the slight
shoulders and pulled him close. /Oh,
Duo. I'm so sorry. This has been eating away at you the whole
time hasn't it? And I've been too
blinded by my own problems to notice. /
Duo felt his
never-entirely-stable-self cracking. He
was smart enough to know that his mind just wasn't quite right, moods swinging
from one extreme to the other in the blink of an eye. Usually he could hide his problems behind his jester's grin. But, he was just too tired to hold
everything together tonight. /Too much,
it's just too much. I can't deal, not
tonight. Oh God, please, I don't want
to lose it. /
In the shadow of the light
from a black sun,…
Quatre was shocked when Duo suddenly
collapsed against him with a keening cry.
It was as if the mask he had cultivated for so long had just shattered
into a million pieces. The boy's
'soul-pain' echoed in Quatre's heart, such overwhelming pain and anguish. Duo just didn't act like this, they could
all see through the jester sometimes, but this… This was a shadow of the boy
they knew. A fragile, broken shadow.
The Arab tentatively reached out his
senses. If he concentrated really hard…
He gently 'touched' the boy's pain and nearly recoiled physically. /So much pain…Like a great gaping hole…a
dark, aching void…Emptiness… / Some of
it felt very old, wounds that had only been covered up, memories suppressed,
and never completely healed. He
swallowed his own discomfort and held the weeping boy tight, murmuring softly
in Arabic. The tears finally ran out,
leaving the fragile boy shaking, emotionally drained. He looked horrible.
"Duo?"
Quatre sensed more than heard the
boy's reply. "I love him, Quatre."
He sighed. "I know. That's why it's
so painful." He gently kissed the boy's
forehead and laid his small hand against the warm skin. "I think we should get you to bed. Can you get up?" There was no response.
Quatre reached up and turned off the water. He half-supported, half-carried the emotionally shattered pilot
out of the shower.
Frigid statue, standing
icy-blue and numb…
/Oh God, I'm losing it…It's so
dark…so dark…Heero…I can't deal with this tonight…Tomorrow…I'll take care of it
all tomorrow…I …I'm so cold…I can't feel anything anymore…Oh, God,
NO!…Quatre?…please, help me…I don't want to be like this…I can't let you see me
like this…but I'm trapped…I'm lost…I'm lost… /
Duo's mind had detached from reality, it was a trick he'd learned a long
time ago, on the streets. A way to
shelter his fragile psyche behind carefully built walls, where he couldn't feel
the pain, couldn't be hurt. It had
become the place where he went when everything got to be too much. But now it was beyond his control, dragging
him down into a dark abyss, whether he wanted it or not.
Where are the frost giants
I've begged for protection?
I'm freezing…
Duo seemed to be nothing more than a
doll as Quatre dried him off and wrapped him in a warm towel. The Arab quickly dried himself and pulled on
his boxers. The boy seemed to be in
some type of trance, just sitting there staring vacantly. The blond pilot gently tended his injured
palms; there was no reaction, not even when he swabbed the wounds with the
stinging antiseptic. Quatre unlocked
the door and peeked out. As he
expected, Trowa was waiting outside. He
pushed away from where he'd been holding up the wall, as Quatre opened the door
fully.
"Comment est-ce que'il
est?" [How is he?]
The petite blond shrugged, mentally
switching languages again, it seemed to be the night for it. "Pas bon. Heero qui voit vraiment l'a lance. Et je le pense son tomber qui malade sur cela." [Not good. Seeing Heero has really thrown him. And I think he's getting sick on top of that.] Tro walked in and gently touched Duo's flushed face. His mouth quirked in a little frown and he
nodded his agreement of Quatre's assessment.
He easily lifted the slight boy, cradling him against his chest and
resting the damp head on his shoulder.
He looked down into the beautiful face that stared off into
nowhere. Trowa's frown deepened and he
held the boy a little closer. Quatre
inwardly smiled, the quiet pilot had just given him confirmation of what he had
suspected for a while now.
"Le prendre a ma salle. Ou est-ce que Wu est?" [Take him to my room. Where's Wu?] Trowa
carefully maneuvered through the doorway with his precious burden before
answering.
"Heero qui donne un morceau de son
espirit." [Giving Heero a
piece of his mind.] Shouts drifted up the stairway.
Quatre bit his lip nervously. "Peut-etre je dois..." [Maybe I should…]
"Non."
"Mais…" [but]
"Il n'est pas le temps a la paix de
marque. Duo a besoin de vous
maitenent." [It's not the
time to make peace. Duo needs you now.] He carefully set the catatonic boy on the bed. "En plus, quand Wu est fait, il es mon
virage." [Besides, when
Wu's done it's my turn.] He brushed aside the chestnut bangs and
stroked the heart-shaped face with gentle fingers. "Et Yuy ecoutera.
Sejour. Vous ne voulez pas a
entend." [And Yuy will
listen. Stay. You don't want to hear.]
"Seulment ne pas tuer les autres,
s'il vous plait, Tro?" [Just
don't kill each other, please, Tro?] A ghost of a smile graced
the acrobat's face. He nodded and left
the room. The worried blond looked down
at his other friend. "Oh, Duo. What a mess. How do you manage to get yourself into these things?" Picking up a brush, he started to work through
the tangled mass of chestnut waves.
"Duo? Can you hear me? It's
Quatre. I'm going to take care of your
hair so it won't be a mess when you wake up.
Is that okay?" Nothing. He sighed.
/Just talk to him, Quatre. About
anything. He feels like he is
alone. He needs to know he isn't.
/ He closed his own doubt-filled
eyes. /Tell him about yourself. /
Cold winter winds that chill
my heart with sleet and snow…
Even inside his private prison, the
thoughts kept circling. Running round
and round, torturing him. Pain, doubt,
and self-recrimination chasing him as he spiraled down into the darkness. Demons mocked him, slicing off little bits
of his soul. *Words… That's all they
are…No one cares…No one's is ever there…You are alone…You have always been
alone… You will always be alone…Everyone says the words…But no one really
cares…Do they?… Heero spoke the words, and then look what he did…*
/I thought maybe it would be different with
him…/
*Lies…The words are lies…You are not worthy…Not worthy
of love…You belong to death…belong to Shinigami...Better to stay here…Stay with
us in the comforting nothingness… Stay where there is no pain…no hurt…no
lies…no words…no feeling…no one…no one…*
/But I don't want to be alone!…I want to feel…/
*Even if it hurts?…*
/Yes…cause that means I'm still alive…That Shinigami
hasn't completely taken me over yet…/
*It's too late for that little boy…* The demons circled cackling.
/Is someone out there?… /
*No…*
/I hear something…Like a voice echoing down a long,
dark tunnel… /
*Ignore it…You will only get hurt again…*
/Quatre?…It's Quatre … /
*So?…*
/Qat has always been nice…He's kind…He cares…/
*But you thought Heero cared too…*
/But, it's Qat…He's not like Heero…Quatre, can you
help me?…Don't leave me in here…all alone with them…Please…not alone… /
"I'm going to tell you a secret,
Duo. I always give my enemies the
chance to surrender. Did you know
that? I hate killing, so I give them a
chance. I mean, in the Gundams we have
such an overwhelming advantage that it doesn't seem fair. What do you think the others would say if
they knew I did that? I hate killing,
but I can do it when it's necessary. I
just keep telling myself that I do it so others won't have to. But, my family…"
/Quatre is telling me a secret?…Me?…
Motor-mouth Maxwell!…/
*Don't listen to him…*
/Surrender?…I can imagine their reactions…Wu-man
would call it 'weakness'… Heero…/
*Yes?…What about Heero?…* He fought against the dark wings that rose around him.
/Heero would sneer… and shoot them anyway…Trowa …Tro
would quietly support Quatre and then remove the obstacle when he wasn't
looking…/
*And what about you?…*
/Me?…I have to respect Q-man's strength…It takes
guts to do what he does…It's a dangerous game he's playing…It could get him
killed…No wonder Tro is so careful to stay near him when they have missions
together…Wish I had more missions with Trowa…/
*Oh, really?…why is that?…*
/None of your business!…Qat hates killing?…No
surprise there…/
*He is weak…*
/But he does it!…We really don't give Q-man enough
credit…/
Quatre sensed a flicker from
Duo. He gave no sign, not wanting to
frighten the boy back to whatever dark hole he was trapped in. He kept talking, braiding the long strands. "But, my family. Well, you know I have twenty-nine sisters. I've only ever met about seventeen or
eighteen of them. And I only really
know ten. Irea is my favorite. She is the most supportive. I'm really close to her and Yasmina and
especially Anael. Oh, and Sarah and
Rachael too. But Irea is the best. She even stood up to Father for me." Quatre sighed, his voice quieted. "Father wasn't happy with me becoming a
pilot. I never could do anything
right."
/Q-man sounds so sad…I always
thought it would be great to have a father…To have a family…/
*You'd only lose them…*
/I thought Qat's life was so easy…/
*Are we wishing for something we'll never have?…*
/I mean, he's never been hungry…Or lived on the
streets…/
*Easy life…*
/Or seen everyone he loves die…/
*Like you?…*
/Wait…He did…Sort of…He watched as his father was
killed…/
*How sad…*
/And went crazy…/
*Kinda like you?…*
/Is Qat as lonely as me?…/
*No one is as lonely as you…*
/Go away!…I thought him and Tro…But they don't seem
to be together as much now…/
*Opportunity knocks?…*
/Maybe I won't have to be alone anymore…/
*You will always be alone…*
Through sheer force of will, Duo pushed back against
the darkness. He found that he was
afraid, afraid of being swallowed up by the encroaching darkness and the demons
in his head. He couldn't allow that,
not with Quatre throwing him a lifeline.
I'm freezing…
He opened
his eyes to see the gentle Arab tying off his braid. The boy's face was sad, full of remembered pain. He had to know. "What…" His voice
cracked, Duo swallowed and tried again.
"What do you mean you couldn't do anything right?"
"Duo?! Are you okay?"
Duo ignored the question, he had his
own. "Didn't your father love you?"
Quatre started, surprised. "Umm, yeah.
I guess so. I didn't really see
him much." The blond looked down
shyly. "And when I did he usually
yelled at me."
"What for?"
"Well, my grades. He was never happy with A's, they had to be
A+. And my music. My technique needed work, and I should
improve my interpretation. Then when I
became a pilot…"
"So family life sucked."
"Yeah, most of the time. You?"
"I never had a family, Q-man."
Quatre tilted his head. "Sure you did. You do. You make a family
for yourself wherever you go. It is one
of your gifts. Family isn't always made
up of blood. I mean, I'm proof of
that."
"But you have a family."
"No. My real family is not the one you're thinking of."
"Then who is your family?"
"Right now? The four of you."
Duo was shocked. Quatre considered them a family? "Oh, that's just great. We've got to be the poster-children for the
dysfunctional family." He giggled
hysterically and in a flash the mask crumbled again. He hugged himself, he felt so cold. "Oh God, Qat. What am I
going to do? I'm so messed up." He hunched over; Quatre wrapped a blanket
around his shivering body and hugged him.
"Yeah, you are."
"Gee, thanks."
"Sorry. I don't know what to tell you.
But for tonight, just don't worry about it. You're coming down with something."
"Yeah, a bad case of Yuy-psychosis."
Quatre giggled. "No, I mean you're getting sick. You must have picked something up. That cold rain didn't help. You have a fever."
"I hate being sick."
"You just rest."
Duo looked him in the eye. Quatre could see behind all the jokes and
masks. He could see the 'real Duo', the
child that ran and hid in dark corners.
A frightened, lonely child.
"Quatre, I don't think I can sleep alone. I'm afraid of the dreams, I'm afraid I'll get lost, and I won't
be able to find my way back."
I'm frozen…
Quatre lay on the bed and pulled Duo
down beside him. "You don't have to be
alone." The boy sighed with
relief. He hadn't slept much the last
two months. Only when he could beg his
way into one of the others' bed. He relaxed into the comforting embrace as the
blond boy pulled the blankets over them both.
He rested his head against the smaller pilot's chest and listened to his
steady heartbeat. It was nice not to
have to pretend tonight. To not have to
smile and joke when he didn't feel like it.
Quatre had seen something none of the others had, a glimpse of the 'real
Duo.' The one that was always
hiding. The one that got hurt, that was
hurt, that was in pain.
"Where are the others?" It was going to be painful, but he had to
know.
Quatre stiffened and Duo heard his
heart skip a beat. "They're all
downstairs." Duo felt a hollow
ache. So everyone but Qat thought he
was weak. His arms tightened
unconsciously. "What's wrong, Duo?"
"Nothing."
"Duo it isn't nothing, I can
tell. Tell me, what are you thinking?"
"At least you don't think I'm weak."
"Oh, you think…no! They're downstairs because Wu was reading
Heero the riot act. Tro said he was
next."
"Really?"
"Yeah." Duo was touched. Wu-man
and Tro, sticking up for him? Who'd
have thought? They lay in silence for
many moments. Quatre absent-mindedly
playing with Duo's hair. The tired boy
sighed and a tear trickled down the blonde's chest.
"Qat?"
"Yes, Duo-chan?"
"Me and…" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "and Heero."
"Yeah?"
"It's not gonna be a happy ending is
it?" Quatre closed his eyes and hugged
Duo, offering any comfort he could. He
wished for Duo's sake it could be, but that just didn't seem possible right
now.
"I don't think so. Sorry."
"That's okay, s'not your
fault. I think I knew anyway, I just
needed to hear it." Tears ran
fresh, but it wasn't long before Duo's exhausted, feverish body slipped into
sleep. Quatre wiped the tears from the
heated face and kissed his forehead.
"No, Duo. It's not going to be
happily-ever-after. For either of us."
It's too late.
-sin
sin, tis done-
I
know it doesn't resolve itself; you will just have to read the sequel, "Blood
and Fire."
-I
was working on this story while visiting with my father. He kept asking what my story was about, and
I kept putting him off. I haven't even
told him I've been a practicing pagan for five years, I certainly can't tell
him I write yaoi! He just couldn't deal
with that. ^_~