"Catch Me When I Fall"
Chapter 1: Chance and Charity
PG-13
1x2
I do not own Gundam or anything of the characters mentioned.
Early evening peeked out from behind the controlled cloud-filled skies. The sun shone orange and lit the concrete with a surreal glow of fire, fuelled by the light wind that sent litter scratching along the ground and caused the sparse trees, lit from behind by the demonic glow, to sway in eternal affliction. Wrappers flit by hiking-boot clad feet, causing them to stop and allow the owner to pick up the offending object. Slim hands lifted the garbage to his face; tendons beneath the slight cover of flesh cast overly dark shadows across the valleys of his hand. Cobalt eyes wrinkled slightly and the man sighed slightly, shoving the garbage into his pocket to dispose of later. The slums were bad enough off, even without the litter.
He was just following the routine that he'd made for himself only a week back. His arrival at L2 had sent him searching for stability, organization, and cleanliness: the three things that L2 were in great want for. When the man had stepped off the shuttle and wandered out into the streets. There had been orphans running past and under his feet, bumping into him at every corner. Each encounter sent him immediately searching for his wallet and each time he shot off after the homeless children, cornering them, and reclaiming his money. Despite his frustration, the man allowed his pity to take a hand, so he always found himself leaving them with enough for something to fill their stomachs. Regrettably, his charity had greatly exhausted his funds and made him particularly late to meet up with the owner of the apartment he was renting.
That was one thing that L2 did have: a lower price of living, despite the drastically increasing rate of insurance and medical bills. Doctors could catch a high price, since medical care was still in such high demand. Then again, by the looks of the war-torn colony there was no real question as to why. Even still, his own company, being Earth-based, would be willing to pay him well for the trouble of moving to such a stricken war ground. Nobody else had been willing to face the wreckage.
After he'd managed to wake the owner and move in however, the man was having severe doubts as to whether or not he could manage to stay for the full duration of his trip. Exhausted and quite a bit short on money, he'd collapsed into bed and fallen directly to sleep.
It wasn't until the walk home from the office the next week that his mood had brightened. The streets, eerily quiet, whispered of nothing but absence. No one dared wander the streets so close to dark. He'd turned into the back roads and cut through the darker area of the colony. At first he'd thought to ease into the silence and take advantage of it to lighten the tension of his shaky nerves. However as he tried to relax his shoulders, a chill ran up his spine and tensed all of the muscles in his back far worse than they had been previously. He usually wasn't one to trust his instincts; the need for reasoning often pushed petty emotions from view, but something about this particular feeling of interest, curiosity… danger… he couldn't keep himself from looking up.
A man stood casually on the corner, chewing on what seemed to be a bagel, a paper grocery bag in the hand hanging at his side. At first the businessman had been sceptical. The man on the corner could very well be a drunk. He had a paper bag. Who asked for paper bags if whatever was in the bag wasn't supposed to be seen? Paper on the colonies was expensive enough to not ask for it frivolously. Then again, as the man finished his bite and flipped his long, chestnut braid over his shoulder to brush against the back of his tightly-clothed thighs, he reached into the bag to pull out a small red wrapper and opened it, popping small, brightly-coloured tablets into his mouth.
Candy. The bag was filled with candy. As the man approached a young boy sped around the corner and stopped at the booted feet of the braided man. The child fought to catch his breath before telling the elder something and, to the businessman's surprise, the lean man on the corner handed the child the grocery bag with a smile brightening his face, mouth just slightly too wide, but only enough to add the burst of character into his cheeks and mischievous eyes. The child grinned and nodded before speeding down the road. Cobalt eyes had eagerly watched the trail the boy had followed to catch a glimpse of the man at the corner as he passed, locking gazes only long enough for the braided man to wink and pop another coloured tablet into his mouth before turning down the alleyway behind him, not showing a single sign of discomfort or fear of the darkened, dangerous corners deep within the cavernous mouth.
After that, the businessman had made sure to alter his original plans of taking the safer main roads home to the back streets in hopes of catching another glimpse of the braided image taunting him within the confines of his mind. However, since then he'd seen neither hide nor hair of the man. The businessman stood at the corner of the main road and the alluring alleys on a later subsequent day and asked himself quietly, "Heero, what is this going to accomplish…?" But still he'd given into temptation and followed the dirty concrete into the slums.
Today, however, the road wasn't quite so silent. Upon nearing the corner where he'd seen the braided man, shouts immediately rose to his ears. He grit his teeth together and tightly closed his eyes, fighting off the feeling of impending heroics and the want to rush forward and step into whatever it was that was happening. There was no sense to it. Sure, Heero was very fit, trained to protect the people of the colonies just as well as the Earth armies rising to prevent the colonial rebellion, perhaps even more so. That didn't mean that it would be smart to step in and settle a conflict that didn't involve him in the least, so he resolved to keep walking, but, steeling a glance into the alley, the motion of a far less casually dressed man caught his eye. The braid was held firmly in hand of a man twice Heero's own size and the familiar lithe figure twisted to pull out of the firm grip but only fell into the rough handlings of another thug in the circle. He jumped up and spun to face each of them individually and sighed heavily.
"Well, looks like I've got no choice but to take on all of you." He shrugged and slid a dress-shoed foot back to help him maintain balance. "It's too bad. I wouldn't want to ruin all your pretty faces." The tenor of his voice forced Heero to take a step towards the situation, but he immediately stopped. Pointless. This was pointless! He had no clue who this man was or what his problems were and to assume familiarity and the responsibility to involve himself were far from sensible, perhaps wavering on suicidal. But as he moved to turn, the image of that casually welcoming, mischievous face bloodied and fighting to breathe caused a lump to form in his throat.
Heero sighed. It seemed that fate had it in for him to rekindle his emotions. By the time he looked up again, the thugs had set into the braided man and although they landed far more frequent heavier blows, the lean man's speedy almost messy looking assaults had still put a few men out of commission. For a moment Heero thought that perhaps the man could take care of himself and was tempted to turn away again, but as he took thought to action he caught sight of the largest man fisting the braid once more and swinging so that the man connected to it flew face-first into the rough, crumbling brick wall.
The large man leaned in and ground the braided man's head against the stone. Heero grit his teeth together and sent himself flying, colliding with the muscled skinhead with a solid impact. He stared with cold eyes down on the man, hands clenching together at his sides. Sending a side-long glance to the coughing braided man, he decided that he was glad he'd stepped in, but the thug was working to stand again and a laugh rose up from his throat. "I don't know who you are, kid, but you made a big mistake getting involved."
Heero's brows furrowed and icy cobalt eyes locked onto the much taller man. Fury was rising into his chest, heating his body with adrenaline. Using it to fuel his body rather than cause the muscles to shake, he took a step forward. "I advise you to leave." He growled, feeling the death glare creeping into his eyes as his vehemence rose to overflow in them. His accent was apparent, albeit slight against the L2 common.
At first curious, then amused, a smile began to spread over the large man's face. "It looks like we've made the Asian mad, boys. 'I adbize yoo to reeve.'" He exaggerated before erupting into laughter. "Go back home and have your mommy teach you Kung foo, kid."
This was one of the reasons he didn't usually speak. Even the slightest lilt in his voice stirred up controversy and in the kind of work he was in, that didn't do well. The only thing left to do was to take care of things his own way. He relaxed momentarily before sending his elbow into the guffawing man's diaphragm then snapping the move into an uppercut, throwing the large man's head backwards before moving into a roundhouse to send him to the ground, gasping for air. "Get up."
The man pushed the upper half of his body from the ground and wiped the blood from his lip. He chuckled. "Ya' nicked me, kid. Is that honourable?"
Heero grit his teeth together. "Is it honourable to rely on others to fight your battles for you?" He glanced at the increasingly angry men circling around him. "You hide behind them to make yourself feel strong. You hide behind your muscles to make yourself happy. Everything is about hiding and it's not honourable to lie to anyone, including yourself."
The man was sneering now, the amusement completely erased from his face. "Who do you think you are? You fight battles for others and then you preach about your honour like you follow it every step of the way." He pushed himself off the ground and worked his way back into the circle. "Let's teach him about our honour."
Immediately the circle rushed in, throbbing around him in a wave of slow-moving fists. Heero ducked and punched when necessary to clear himself from the group. He caught sight of the largest man standing with his arms crossed and the same smug look marred his already scarred face. A weight pressed against his back and he very nearly spun to increase his power in that direction, but a casual tenor floated low among the sounds to his ears. "They don't understand the difference between hierarchy and comradery." Heero nodded and moved into the mass of people, weaving in and out, landing blows where he could, seeing the braided man doing the same beside him. There was an empty area to the wall behind the smug leader and Heero immediately went for it, running the wall three steps before back flipping off, elbow aimed directly for the leader's head and with the impact, the man went down, immediately unconscious.
The braided man was joining him, chest heaving. A smile crossing his face as the few remaining thugs dispersed. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it…." He opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by a series of violent coughs that sent him to the ground. Heero was not far behind, nervously kneeling next to the braided youth. Eventually the man waved him away and attempted to catch his breath. "It's okay. I'm just sick."
Heero turned away for a moment. "You shouldn't be outside, then," he mused, trying to be vocal about his worry, but the sentence sounded much more like an accusation.
"C'mon man, what happened to all that articulate talk?" He looked up to Heero and smiled, but Heero merely stared, mouth agape. The braided man's smile faltered and he broke eye contact, only to find that Heero was still staring. "W—What?"
Catching himself, Heero looked away from the shockingly dark violet eyes that he'd counted as blue when they'd met the first time. "Nothing… We should get you somewhere safe. They may come back."
The man nodded. "Yeah. Probably." He pushed himself from the ground and offered his hand for Heero to pull himself up. "My name's Duo Maxwell."
Accepting the hand, Heero pulled himself up. "Yuy Heero."
"Heero, then," Duo accepted as he turned away. "Let's find that safe place you were talking about."
Sun setting, the same warm, surreal light drifted in through the open windows surrounding the second story flat. The harsh glare was easily softened by the long, sheer drapes that reached to the floor with the window's expansive plane. The dimmed evening light poured over deep garnet furniture and reflected the heavy-wood legs of chairs and stools in the scuffed wooden floors. Upon entrance, Duo whistled to himself and Heero took a second thought to the detail, realizing only now, so long after his arrival that the trees were a scarce trade product, especially in such a war-stricken land. He slid out of his jacket and loosened the tie around his neck and discarded it-- sneering when he saw the distasteful snag on the front-- over the back of the couch.
"Make yourself comfortable," Heero advised as casually as he could, removing his shoes at the doorway. "I'll be back. You need to get yourself cleaned up." When Duo looked up from examining the floors, the businessman realized that his guest hadn't noticed that he'd been hurt. "Once the adrenaline wears off, your face is going to start hurting."
At this the man nodded and Heero left him to his own devices. What was he thinking? Bringing a stranger into his house? What ever happened to the strictly reasonable Yuy? What ever happened to the emotionless Yuy? Unless it was work, nothing mattered, right? Precisely. However, if this was the case, why was it that this… Duo Maxwell had caught his attention so quickly? Heero looked down at the first aid kit, still without an answer. For all he knew, the man could be gone, having taken all of Heero's money while he was here, looking for the first aid kit. He exhaled. Somehow that didn't seem likely. With Duo's insistence on their temporary joining be a form of comradery, it didn't seem as though he had any intention of leaving without things being thoroughly finished.
Still, Heero couldn't help but doubt that his interaction had been for the best. Perhaps if he'd just watched from afar, Duo could have managed on his own. Heero shook his head since, again, the thought was unreasonable. There had been no other way. He took the first aid kit and padded back out into the living room where, to his relief, Duo was staring out the window. "If they followed us, they would have no problem finding you."
Duo exhaled and smiled, not even turning to look back at his host. "I'd see them coming. People don't usually look up, you know?" Without reply, Heero pulled up a stool from the counter and motioned for his guest to sit. Duo obliged, but continued to look out the window while Heero washed his scrapes. "It's been a long time since I've gotten to sit down and watch the sun set."
"Don't look too hard," Heero murmured in warning, "You'll go blind."
The braided man chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, L2 has UV protection built into the atmosphere. It's the one thing they did right here." He fell silent for a while, catching Heero's eye with his impossible stillness. When the businessman managed to finish putting away the materials, Duo had stood again and pulled himself away from the window, the final glimmers of golden light reflecting in sullen violet depths.
Heero watched him from the kitchen, eyeing his thoughtfully slow movements without comment. What was there to say to a person who was possibly just starting to suffer the effects of a rather serious head injury? Heero would have taken the man to the doctor, but the ungodly high prices for one were completely out of his budget, despite his company's best effort to provide him with adequate pay. "How are you feeling," he quested, figuring that it would be better to keep Duo in the real world rather than in the dream state he seemed to be creating for himself.
"Tired," the man replied, but shook his head. "Why did you help be back there, anyway?" Heero looked up, but didn't reply. "I mean, I can't pay you for it, if that's what you want." Slim fingers worked at the collar of his shirt. The pale skin moved over slim digits and tendons like water. "That's why they were after me. I owed them money." As the buttons of his shirt slid free of their holes, the light fabric of his dress shirt slipped down the back of his shoulders revealing the base of his neck and top of his shoulder blades. Heero's brows furrowed at the singular bareness of the area, at the sexual current of his guest's disrobing. "Isn't it funny? When you're a kid, if you take money from people they'll just blame it on your upbringing and let you go, but as you get older people expect payment for everything that they do and interest for anything you borrow." He turned to Heero, continuing to speak as he walked towards him. "The funny part is I'm one of the kids, but I still got to work for everything I get. Being poor doesn't let you skip out on responsibilities; I got kids to take care of and I didn't have money for it. I can't let them starve just cause I don't want to help them."
Heero caught himself staring directly into the man's eyes, violet accusation matching cobalt defence turn for turn. Duo cocked his head, only inches away from Heero's face. "I don't have money, but tell me what you want and I'll do it."
The businessman shook his head and backed away. Duo's appearance was far different on close observation than from afar. The man's sunken cheeks and shaded eyes proved his illness and exhaustion. Even if Heero had expected anything in return, he couldn't ask it of a man so stretched and poverty stricken. "People help people. I don't want anything from you."
Duo for a moment looked struck, "What do you mean? People here don't do things without wanting something!" He laughed slightly. "You can't tell me that you went through all this trouble for free? You know, there are people who get paid to do that kinda stuff out here. You don't give away services for free."
"Life isn't something to be thrown away." Heero used the words, just as he'd been taught to so many years ago, but he was nothing but a walking contradiction to the very phrase that had led his way of life for so many years. "I don't consider that much of a service." A lie…
Duo moved to close in on the other man, but his chest seized up, throwing him into violent, spasmodic coughs. Heero rushed forward and held up the braided man as he rocked from the force of his sickness and when Duo's coughs subsided, helped him to the couch where he could sit down. Violet eyes followed Heero, confused, across the apartment to the closet where he produced a heavy blanket and carried it back to the sick man. Heero handed it to him, but Duo merely held it in his hand, shaking his head. "I don't understand. Why do you…"
"Because." Heero paused, looking back on Duo from the hallway. "No other reason." He sighed with a shake of his head. Duo would never understand… truthfully, Heero, himself had no answer to give and so could only vaguely explain. "You're sick. Get some rest while you can."
"And what if they find me again and I'm still not strong enough, Heero? What then? This'll all be pointless."
Duo seemed desperate for a secure answer as Heero turned off the lights. "Then I'll just have to be there again." He padded down the hallway, the entire apartment engulfed by the blue night, the sunset long forgotten.
