A/N: It's a PWP. One of many that I've come up with in my entire life. It's a Duo get's shot with words, Duo gets depressed, Duo goes away, yadda- yadda- yadda…kind of thing.

DEATH'S TUNNEL

Duo winced as the door slammed, the sound reverberating through the entire safe house. When the sound died down, he let out a dejected sigh. This was just great. For once he stuck to the mission plan like everyone wanted. And now they're pissed at him. He didn't know what to do now. Couldn't decide whether to cry in frustration, scream, or pull his hair out. Since the superior and latter were way out of bounds for him, and the median was liable to get him in deeper trouble, he opted for remaining silent.

Ok, so the mission wasn't solo. It was a duo mission; literally in both ways perceived. It was a mission made for him to do only, but the doctors had put Quatre in the mix. Duo knew how much Quatre meant to Trowa and to the other two pilots. He was like a younger brother to the two taciturn Asians. To them, Duo was just another person on the street who just happened to be living with them at the moment.

It was a recon mission. Get in, get the Intel and get out. That was all there was to it. But in order to get to what was needed, two people had to work together. One went in one direction while the other went in the next. Numerous keypads opened doors that were not next to them, but the corresponding ones on the other side of the base. The most clever thing Oz could ever think of. Duo, of course, took the one that needed opening, while Quatre went to the area where he'd be the one to punch in the codes. After a while the pair ended up in the same room where only one door separated them from their mission objective.

Someone had spotted them and all hell broke loose. Duo had been having shit luck on his missions recently and would've been damned if this one went up in smoke. Shit, he'd been damned after the second consecutive mission went bad. The others were furious with him, including Quatre (of all people!). They more than doubted him since before they let Quatre tag along. Trowa had cornered him one on one a few hours before and warned him. Then the Asian invasion started. The whole house was against him.

And still is.

Quatre had gotten shot and beat shitless, Duo in pretty much the same condition. They made it out, Duo having to pilot both Sandrock and Deathscythe to the safe house via hacking and extreme multitasking -fighting dolls along the way was a task- with the Intel in their possession.

Details were, he left Quatre to hold his own while he cracked the safe open and get the stuff before aiding the half conscious pilot. It was against his image, but he wanted to prove he could pull a Heero anytime. He did, alright. But with a price.

Oh, his ribs took a second pounding when Trowa saw what ha happened to his lover. Wufei gave him one in his already sore back and Heero just leg swept him to finish the job.

Yup. He was definitely patching himself up tonight.

…_…_…_---

Duo sat on his bed, not able to lay neither on his side, back nor his stomach. He chugged down some aspirin but that didn't even help. Wufei's speech on dishonor still rang in his ears. Trowa's glare said it all; but Heero's words hurt the most.

You're not cut out to be a pilot. All you're good to be is the L2 street whore you always were. And as worthless as you'll ever be.

That was when the door slammed. Those words cut him deep. Down to his very core. But he couldn't undo what had been done. He'd apologized, but it was only acknowledged. Forgiven would be too much to ask for.

Duo turned pain glazed eyes up to the full body mirror in on the other side of the room he and Heero used to share. He'd packed up whatever he took out and moved into Wufei's room. So now Duo was the one with all the privacy. His reflection stared right back at him with an expression of worry, a sharp contrast to the disgusted one he was sure he had on his face. He blinked and saw an expression identical to his bewildered one. He mentally shrugged it off, tossing it aside as a hallucination caused by the faulty aspirins.

It was only eight o' clock now. He couldn't move. The pain rooted him to the spot. Tonight was going to be very long. The second hand dragged itself up the forty-five second mark.

A very long night indeed.

…_…_…_…

The following morning found Duo sitting in the same position, sleeping fitfully. When he opened his crusty eyes he smiled ruefully at himself. His back was stiff and sore.

A distant beeping caught his attention.

And apparently another mission to accomplish.

Very, very carefully, he got up and slowly made his way to the shower. He never noticed the worried pair of eyes following him from the window of his room.

…_…_…_…

Mission Complete.

That was the last thing he registered before he let the darkness creep up and snatch him away. His gundam was parked in its former spot away from the safe house the others were currently in, still hating him, probably.

In the safe house, a now conscious Quatre was sitting in the couch with his lover curled around him while his 'brothers' sat on the floor watching a cheap movie while they awaited Duo's arrival. Quatre was more on edge than everyone else though he hid it quite well. He remembered clearly what had happened on the mission he and Duo were sent on. He was the one who'd told Duo to get the information then come back while he held off the guards. He wasn't weak by a long shot. But a simple mistake he made on his part got him in the shape he was now.

Upon awakening with a shit load of Trowa around him like now, he felt something in his hand. It was a note. It was in Duo's, surprisingly neat for a leftie, cursive handwriting.

His apology before he left on his mission. And after reading that, he'd gotten this bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. That returned at that exact moment. Aqua eyes traveled to the clock on the wall and his eyes widened. Despite accusations, Duo arrived on time after missions. Regardless of the circumstances he may have been in. Especially from a demolition assignment. He would've parked his gundam half an hour ago and stepped through the door three minutes after the half hour.

Something was up.

He shifted a little, causing Trowa to look at him worriedly,

"What's wrong?"

"I'm worried about Duo," he said, drawing confused looks from the others as well.

"You're too kind for your own good," said Heero.

Quatre looked at him funny. "What do you mean?"

Wufei spoke up.

"He left you there on your own and yet you still worry for his safety."

"He doesn't deserve it," Trowa chimed in.

Realization dawned on the blond why the others had rarely spoke of the braided pilot. His eyes widened.

"He never left me," he said. The others gave him skeptical looks, all bouncing between his face and his damaged body. "Look, he was being indecisive. He was battling his morals and our advice. Just to make him feel better I'd told him to go ahead with the mission while I held off the guards. I got captured and he rescued me despite what I'd said. That's why he'd been so out of shape."

He rounded on them with a murderous glare. "And YOU let him out on that mission like that. …Did you even patch him up?"

The all looked away sheepishly.

"Oh, Allah," Quatre gasped. "Heero. You and Wufei go out to see if his gundam's out there. I knew something was going to happen."

…_…_…_…

They found the gundam, alright. It was in tip top shape, too. But there was no Duo. Sliding into Wing, Heero hacked Deathscythe's system and opened the cockpit. Wufei had gone in and come out by the time Heero was done shutting his own gundam down. The Wing pilot zip lined down almost absently and used a remote to close his gundam's cockpit.

"Yuy," came Wufei's voice from the other gundam's feet. He was kneeling in the dirt, cradling the Deathscythe pilot gently in his arms. There was blood running down the side of his face from just above his temple, but that was the only thing there. There was no telling what was under the flight suit. The American's breathing was shallow, indicating the presence of bruised and or broken ribs.

Heero gently poked and prodded the boy's chest cavity and was rewarded by weak hisses and wordless grunts. Definitely broken. Duo's breathing hitched, moving from the deep patterns of unconsciousness to awareness.

"Maxwell?" Wufei spoke first. The braided boy rolled his eyes seemingly lazily to look up at the Chinese. And said nothing.

"Status," came Heero's clipped tone. The same dead amethyst twins fell heavily to rest levelly with Heero's cool ones. He seemed to be trying to work his throat the lump moving up and down painfully slowly.

"A…polo…get…ic," came the raspy reply before the heavy eyelids drifted shut.

Wufei cast another glance at the still unconscious pilot as they walked to the safe house. He couldn't forget the way Duo looked at him when he first woke up. To the average person he may jus look drowsy, but he was dancing on the edge of unconsciousness anyway. But Wufei saw the shock deep in those eyes, and then a sort of realization glint, before his eyes went completely blank. It…didn't sit well with the Shenlong pilot. He had no doubt Heero found something not right with the status report.

And he did, really. Heero had to drag his eyes away from the other boy as he contemplated the out of bounds response. The boy's ribs were more than abused and he had a head wound. Duo wasn't that far gone where awareness for him was warped somehow. But to say his status was apologetic, was beyond even the Perfect Soldier.

When they got to the safe house, Quatre was the first to get to the door, despite bruised ribs, an almost panic stricken (for Quatre, duh) Trowa close behind. Duo had come to again at that moment, but only long enough to level a gaze at Trowa and a lingering one on Quatre, looking over the bruises. After the short inspection he caught the cornflower blue eyes boring into his. There was an instant a little bit of life flickered in those usually jovial pools before he simply closed them again, the others believing that he fell unconscious again.

In all honesty, Duo just wanted Wufei and Heero to kill him and get it over with. That's what they'd come to do, right? Why make him wait any longer? He was already worthless in their eyes. Even after trying to gain their respect for so long.

He felt when they laid him on the couch, and his tender back protested vigorously. He couldn't help the wince and tiny hiss that escaped him. He doubted they would care, though. But he worried about Quatre more than the rest at the moment. He had to hide the pain to avoid Quatre's vulnerable space heart, and to make it seem like he wasn't pathetic-looking in front of the others…not as worthless as he felt. His ribs felt as if they were digging into his lungs, his head was pounding. Breathing, was a bitch, too. If he didn't love life so much, and had a war to fight, he'd stop right then and move on.

After a minute, he felt only one presence through the haze of pain. Lifting a heavy eyelid to see Quatre crouching beside him, Duo struggled to lift his wounded arm and placed his paler-than-usual palm on the other's cheek. Quatre held his wrist gently.

"You…o…kay?"The American rasped.

"Shhh, Duo," Quatre admonished,. "I'm fine, Just rest, okay?"

"…m'sorry…" Duo managed before his arm went limp and his eye fell closed.

From the doorway, Trowa glared at the sight of Duo's hand on his Quatre's face. But Duo's words puzzled him. Instead of complaining like he usually did, he just asked of the other's wellbeing. However, he could have been putting on a show. And as much as that must go against the American's normal image, Trowa hadn't worked the hate out of his system yet, which was probably why Quatre looked up so suddenly with Duo's hand clutched in his hand.

………………..

Duo awoke next some time later in his bed with the covers drawn up to his chest. He was lying on his back, apparently, but they must have doped him up with some heavy pain killers. If he could, he'd kiss them.

Duo frowned.

If he was so worthless, then why was he still alive and his wounds treated? Why were they keeping him around? Was it because the doctors told them that he was still needed? Most likely.

Or he'd have woken with a vague impression of a bullet in his head.

Duo turned his head to look at the alarm clock, only to have his eyes land on the familiar mop of chocolate locks sitting atop Heero's head while he sat on the other twin bed across the room. Duo managed to repress a sigh. Great.

Just ignore him, Duo, he told himself.

Doing just that, he looked at the clock like he was supposed to. It was 5:00 in the evening. But on what day? On second thought, he didn't care. All he wanted to do now was get better and get the hell out of this kami-forsaken hell hole of a safe house.

Duo moved his eyes to rest on the wall right beside him. He really didn't feel like facing Heero at the moment. His words rushed back to him as soon as he recognized the figure on the other bed. And they cut even deeper. Suppressing a sigh, Duo closed his eyes to try to scrub the look of scorn off his retinas and the sound of disdain from his ear drums.

The door to the bedroom opened and closed softly, announcing someone else's arrival. Duo didn't feel like being nosy and kept his attention riveted on the eggshell colored wall before his eyes.

"How is he?" came a soft inquiry. It was Trowa's voice. Duo wanted so bad just to laugh in his face from his position on the bed at the absurdity of the question. The guy had finished shitting around with his ribs when he got back, and he had the nerve to sound like he even cared? Say that wasn't completely pretentious.

"The fever's broken already," came Heero's equally soft voice. But it wasn't as cold as Duo had expected it to be. Then again, the guy and Quatre were like brothers and so treated his lover likewise. It's only logical and fair.

A sigh. From who, he didn't know and possibly didn't care. He just wanted out. "Good. I don't think he would've made it if it hadn't."

There was a vague itchy sensation scraping across Duo's back, and his frown deepened, trying not to move and aggravate his still healing wounds. But soon the itchy feeling morphed into the pain laden surface it was like when he was on the couch. He did everything he could to keep his breathing as even as it was and avoid the hiss or curse that threatened to push past his lips. But damn, it hurt. He had no doubt he was somewhat tense and the others may notice soon. Consciousness was a bitch when it got ready.

He heard footsteps approach his bedside and he didn't have a chance to close his eyes again and wipe the frown off his face. Nothing he could do, now. The shadow loomed above him and he turned his head to see the one who dared enter the realm of his personal space.

Trowa.

The frown Duo had eased considerably, giving way to shock and apprehensive curiosity. He knew he was giving the other a wary look but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment.

Trowa seemed to be searching his soul the way he was looking into Duo's eyes. But he was only looking to see if he'd had a concussion. Finding none, he put a deliciously cool hand on Duo's forehead under the unruly bangs. Duo couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips and the way he eyelids dropped to half mast. He hadn't felt hot when he woke, but now he felt a little warmer than normal now.

"How are you feeling?" Trowa asked, voice still soft. Duo just gave a noncommittal grunt in response, caught up in the feel of the large appendage supplying him with the delectable coolness. It was slowly lulling him to sleep, too, taking his mind off the now searing pain in his back.

"Move your hand, Trowa," came Heero's voice through the haze of half sleep that fell over the Deathscythe pilot. Duo was going to frown and open his eyes to glare at the Japanese, but the pain came back in a rush, making the frown turn into a wince and a hiss.

Just great.

"Duo?" it was Trowa who spoke first. "Say ouch."

The next thing Duo knew he was laying oh his twice abused ribs and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. He couldn't breathe right. Could he do anything about it? No. Not until Heero was done with his business anyway. Right now he had to play the docile child. By the time they were done and had flipped him over, he was subconscious, not knowing whether to come back or get lost.

………………………………....

About a month later they all ended up at the same safe house once again. Heero was first to arrive, Trowa later that day. Wufei was due any minute and Duo was to come in with Quatre. The three normally stoic pilots waited, half angry still and half anxious. They all vowed to maim Duo if something should happen to Quatre this time.

Quatre had come back in one piece, only a small cut on the back of his hand. He walked through the door into Trowa's welcoming arms, and the Asians grunted their approval. Duo walked in a considerable distance behind and just went to the kitchen to grab a glass of juice.

Trowa noticed the blond Arab's attention was riveted on the American's back, his cherubic face contorted into a frown. He followed his lover's gaze, as did the others, just to see Duo sigh and glare at his empty glass before rinsing it and putting it in the drainer to dry.

Pilots 01, 03 and 05 exchanged looks above the shorter pilot's head. Heero just raised and eyebrow and Wufei shrugged, so Trowa figured that he shouldn't bother himself with it.

Minutes later found Duo on the safe house rooftop after putting his duffle in his designated room that he shared with Heero. The braided boy sighed, for the sixth time that minute. He couldn't wait until the war was over. Or at least someone from Oz got lucky and killed him during. He was really put out when he found out that he would have been on yet another mission with Quatre. He'd been cornered again by the other three. They didn't hit him that time, but Heero damn near ripped his braid off. From that point on he decided that he would keep his distance from Quatre whenever he could manage it. Mostly because the others were right around the corner wherever Quatre was and would glare him to death if he got too close. He especially stayed away from Trowa and Wufei. His ribs and his back still felt the aftereffects of those blows. Now Heero was too dangerous. Duo liked to keep his braid attached to him, thanks. It wasn't as if they'd accepted his apology, anyway. So he had more of a reason to avoid them all.

He couldn't wait for another solo mission. Maybe they'll let him stay at a different safe house this time. Hell, they'd better. But… Quatre's the only thing he has resembling a friend in the group. They'd both hit it off since they first met. Duo hadn't had to be alone like he thought he would've been. Well, his is now. So no use brooding over it. All he has to be worried about now is the lack of much of a social life. But he has his music and sketch pads. That should tide him over.

…Right?

Duo sighed; again.

This was going to be a long war…

………………

Heero sat at his laptop typing away as usual, reveling in the silence that surrounded him… Until Duo stepped in. The door closed behind the teenager quietly, though. How odd. But Heero dismissed it as a time delay for the inevitable chatter. He heard Duo flop onto his bed and remain absolutely still.

Heero frowned, glaring at the screen before him but still typing. The other boy had been acting strangely as of late. He hadn't spoken unless it was something of importance, as with his presence remotely near any of the usually stoic pilots. He would sometimes disappear for hours at a time, away from everyone else until his presence was actually needed.

Needless to say, he was being the opposite of what the others had grown used to.

Duo still hadn't stirred and Heero never heard his breathing even, so he wasn't asleep. Heero shut down his laptop and turned around to see Duo lying on his back, staring at the ceiling with his earphones in his ears. They weren't so loud that Heero could hear the music from where he was, as per usual, but so low that it couldn't be heard at all from the other side.

Duo felt the other's stare on him and removed one earphone to rest it on his shoulder and looked met the measuring glare that was cast upon him.

"You, uh, need something?" The American ventured, his voice sounding too nervous to suit him. Heero just grunted as usual and left the room.

Duo never truly relaxed until the other was a safe distance away from the foot of the stairs. He sighed. It was beginning to become a hobby of his, he noticed. Duo lay back on the pillow, switching his iPod to the list of Jpop he'd gotten his hands on. He only listened to it when he was alone in his gundam or alone on the whole.

He listened to it more often these days.

Being alone was swiftly becoming a problem. Without his music he was sure he would spontaneously combust. The silence scared him. It screams the truth of his fears. Heero couldn't get to his braid if he kept it under his pillow or tucked into his shirt. His scalp was still sore since that day. And after that he kept a careful distance from Quatre. Even without the others hounding them. His mind kept telling him that they were there somewhere. Either that or they sent someone to keep an eye on him. He couldn't allow Quatre to come within two feet of him. If he managed to get close enough to hug, then he'd find some half assed story to tell so he could get away. To him, Quatre was labeled 'threat to health'. If he was caught dead talking to Quatre by any of the other pilots, they'd try to murder him. He couldn't let them do that. Thank the powers that be that war felt as if it were coming to an end. When it does, he's out of there.

*************************

Later that week found Duo making modifications to his gundam. He was making his way back into the safe house when Trowa appeared around the corner. Duo's pace slowed instinctively, looking for alternate routes he knew were nonexistent. He'd thought today was going so well. And then one of his main fears just shows up at the wrong time. Duo, by reflex and entirely unconsciously, walked with his arms folded as though he were thinking of something as he walked. He tensed up even more as the Heavyarms pilot drew near.

"Have you seen Wufei?" came the other's question.

"No," was Duo's quiet reply, he eyes instinctively turning to scout the area behind him, his arms tightening in defense. His gaze returned somewhat on Trowa, not able to meet the other's eyes properly. "Check the study. He may be there."

Trowa looked at Duo funny, but said nothing. He turned and went back the way he came, almost missing the relieved sigh and tiny thump of knees hitting the ground.

The auburn haired boy entered the study where he found both Heero and Wufei. Both were in deep conversation when he came in and stopped when they saw him.

"Mission," Heero stated. "We need Duo to draw us a map from this satellite picture. Do you know where he is?"

"You needed something?" came Duo's voice from the doorway. He was on his way to his and Heero's room when he heard his name. He no longer showed up with a 'You rang?" or "Hast thou summoned me?" or anything of that nature. Now it's either "You needed something?" or "What is it?"

Heero handed Duo a pencil and paper and told him what he wanted. In a matter of minutes Duo was done, his head bowed and braid held tightly in one hand and his back carefully shielded by the back of the chair he occupied. At that moment Quatre entered the room. Head still lowered, Duo tensed even more that he originally was when he entered the room merely ten minutes ago. Of all the other times the guy could choose to come in he decided on now.

Duo felt pressure on top of his head and his muscles stopped moving altogether. All he did was breathe. He felt everyone's gazes on him. He was tensing with every second that passed, and soon he was so tense he was almost imperceptibly shaking. Quatre was leaning in from behind him. Less than two feet away and with the others right there. Duo needed to get out of there before things got out of hand.

"Is that all you wanted?" he ventured, proud that his voice wasn't as tense as he felt. His hand tightened considerably over his braid and he was suddenly sitting lotus style and one arm pinned to his torso by the one whose hand was clinging to his braid. There was a long moment of silence and Duo was so pale, it was bordering on sickly. He could hear his own blood rushing past his ears and a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face.

"Hai," came Heero's voice at last. Duo visibly relaxed, moving carefully from under Quatre's folded arms and quickly made his way back to the room.

*************************

Trowa looked at his lover, noticing the same look on that cherubic face he saw a few days ago was back again. One way or the other, Duo was upsetting Quatre. He didn't like that. Not one bit.

Quatre must have sensed Trowa's growing rage, since his gaze snapped back to him. The blond pilot sat in the chair Duo had just vacated and sighed. "Duo's…he's…changed." He stated it simply, confusion and worry evident in his tone.

Wufei snorted. "Understatement."

"I'm serious, 'Fei." said Quatre, his eyes straying to follow the path the American had taken. "Before, he was at ease around all of us. Now, when it's just one of you, he's cautious. If it's two of you, he's really careful and deliberate. If it's all three of you, he's wary as all hell. If it's just me, he's always looking over his shoulder. If I get too close, he moves away. If I manage to touch him, his whole body just goes still and he's panicked. If there's all of us in one room and I'm as near as I was just now, he's downright scared." The blond put a hand over his space heart. "He's always on edge. Back then, he couldn't care less which one of us got that close to him, who approached without warning or just showed up to talk to him or be in his company. As of late, he's only around when we need him to do something."

He paused, letting in sink in before continuing. "We used to be like blood brothers. Trusted each other with our deepest secrets. Even teamed up to play pranks on you three. He was the brother I never had before I'd gotten close to either Heero or Wufei. He was so outgoing, fearless, a ball of energy. But now he's closed himself off. Always looking for something that isn't there. He hardly moves around. He's nothing like the person I've come to know. He's not Duo…"

"Well, the not talking part rings true," said Trowa. "Just now when I was asking for Wufei he hardly said anything else when he followed me away from the hangar. I thought he was going to bolt the other way when I first got there."

"Normally he'd talk my ear to pieces when we're in the room," Heero said. "But either he's just lying there, listening to music, or just staring at nothing. But if he gets a chance, he wouldn't return to that room from morning until it was time for bed. Even then, I doubt he sleeps."

"I remember that one time we roomed together before, I left him awake listening to music and staring at the wall. I'll give you three guesses on how I found him the next morning, and the first two don't count."

"Insomnia?" Trowa questioned.

"No," said Quatre. "He'd been like that on the last mission we were on. He refused to go to sleep if I were anywhere near him. If you didn't know us, you'd think I was trying to rape him or something. I told you, he's extremely cautious around us. I wonder why, though. But whatever the reason, I don't like it. And I, for one, want a word with whoever did this to him."

***********************************

(A/N: Ok, major time warp here. We're moving to the end of the war, now. This is getting us nowhere.)

***********************************

Duo flashed his usual grin at Noin, whose waist was in custody of Zech's strong, muscular, suit clad arm. They had all managed to live past the war. It was something Duo was both happy for and regretted. It was extremely good that all the allies he'd made during both wars had managed to survive, and yet, he was still miserable. He still couldn't stick close to any of the other former G-pilots. Oddly however, he still trusted them to watch his back; somewhat, anyway.

Duo took a sip from the undoubtedly expensive wine glass as he watched the couple merge with the crowd. He remembered the time when he used to do so without hesitation or difficulty. Danger or no danger. But danger lurked in the crevices of the celebrants, and he followed instincts burned into his system to remain as far as possible from it. He spotted Quatre, standing exceptionally close to Trowa who stood chatting with his 'sister', Catherine. It was the most Duo had ever seen Trowa's lips move. Wufei was over in another area with Sally, mingling with the crowd also. Duo was proud of the Chinese. He'd finally decided to come out of his shell. Even Heero upgraded from grunts and sharp nods to elaborate answers. They'd all done Duo proud, but he wouldn't get to watch them grow. Not up close. Tonight was his last night. And he intended to cut it short.

With that, Duo took one last look at all the faces that he knew by memory, taking mental snapshots of those who ranked high in his books. Then he finished his champagne and placed it on a passing waiter's empty tray. Duo descended the stairs of the balcony he was standing on and braved the ocean of people. And with one last backward glance…

He walked out into the icy air.

+*+*+*+*+

Heero scanned the crowd of people, spotting his other comrades among the other celebrants. He'd spotted Duo speaking to Noin and Zechs, his sorely missed grin planted on his face. It had been so long since he'd seen Duo grin. Sure, he smiled back in the war. But they were small and either nervous or wistful. Even when the war was over, Heero had expected Duo to throw a one-man rave, but was instead presented with a tiny smile.

A wistful one.

It wasn't Duo, like Quatre had said. The Duo they knew would've milked the publicity for all he was worth. Sure, he'd flirted jokingly as usual. Charming the ladies and challenging the men. However, he always kept at a distance from the other four. They had never grown used to that. But they could never pin Duo down long enough to confront him about it. Heero was planning to do so tonight. But when he looked around another time, he couldn't find Duo anywhere. There was no way any sane person, soldier or no, could miss a yard long braid and large violet eyes. And he'd be damned if he'd be the first.

"Heero," came a familiar voice from behind. Heero's eyes shifted to and from the person beside him.

"He's gone," Heero answered the unasked question.

"Gone?" Wufei repeated, onyx eyes scanning the crowd.

"Gone where?" Quatre's voice rang in as he and Trowa approached.

That was the one question they'd asked themselves for five years after that.

*****************************

"Duo?!" Hilde cried.

"Shhh!!" Duo hissed, covering his friend's mouth with a large hand. "Not so loud!"

Hilde nodded dumbly and Duo removed his hand. He rounded on him with a glare. "Where the hell have you been all these years?!"

Duo shrugged, noncommittally. "Around."

"You just up and left, Duo!" Hilde fumed. Duo gave her a look to keep her voice low. He'd been moving around from place to place for a few years after that party. If someone was to try to look for him, which he wasn't sure would happen but did it anyway, the first place would be the scrap yard with Hilde. He needed to be sure that the place was marked off the list of his potential whereabouts. So here he was, five years later, standing before Hilde with his braid tucked in his jacket and a pair of emerald contacts lodged in his eyes. Oh, no. He wasn't taking any chances.

"I'm sorry, Hil," he apologized, grimacing at that fact. He'd never practiced apologizing much after the war. They were normally either rejected or just acknowledged. And right now he just wanted to skip over that continuality. It wasn't a lie that he told Hilde. He was sorry that he worried her. Not because he'd left. He left for a reason and he felt no remorse. Well, mostly anyway. "I know I should have contacted you earlier.." Hilde gave him a look but he ignored it. "But you know I had to keep my location a secret."

Hilde lost some of her ire and nodded. Then in a split second she was pasted all over her 'brother'. She had a grip on him so tight you'd think he'd vanish if she let go. "God, Duo! Do you realize how hiked up everyone was over your disappearance?"

"Everyone as in you and the Sweepers?" Duo asked wryly.

"No, Duo." Hilde pulled back, still holding on his jacket. "Not just us. The other boys, Une, Sally, Cathy, Noin, and Zechs. Even Relena."

Duo raised a skeptical eyebrow. Hilde had lost him at Une. He'd only met the lady (the nice version) in person and chatted once at that party before he left. Just the others had stalled him. But Une? And Relena?! Stop the madness, people!

"You're out of your mind, Hil." he said. "Come on. Relena? She hates my guts. I've only spoken to Une once, civilly. Now, Noin and Zechs I could believe. Not too sure about Cathy there."

Hilde glared at Duo for a long moment, but it softened after that and she shook her head at Duo. "You don't know your own strength, do you?"

Okay, now Duo was really confused. Hilde pulled him by the arm and led him into her office at the scrap yard.

"Hey, Hil," said Duo, taking a seat. "I'm thinking about staying here for a while. Think you could help a brother out with a job?"

Hilde whirled around, eyes wide. "Really?!"

Duo grinned lopsidedly at Hilde's hopefulness. "But…" he saw her face fall. Awww…Bless her heart.

"You just got to keep me a secret." Duo finished and saw the dejected look turn into one of curiosity.

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A/N: Whew! Oh my fuckin' GOODNESS! It took me weeks to get this out. But no… My muses decided to skip out on me. I'd wanted this to be a one shot. But it got too long. And I so love to leave you hanging that I've decided to give it a second part. I am not sure if I'll pair Duo up with someone. But I have this awesome way for getting him caught.

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