A/N: I'm currently typing while a video is playing right in the window as a frikkin' background!!!!!!!!
Okay, fine, I'm not used to such conveniences. But this is like one of my favorite jap bands and I can watch while I type this chapter, while the window is MAXIMIZED.
I'm now done ranting, now.
SO in this little chapter I figure I'll try to surprise you people, for once. I'm quite happy that some of you have taken a liking to the first one. Like I said it was supposed to be a one shot but it got too long and when it came to reading it over I got tired of thinking, "My Jesus, how much is there?" But I'm back and I'm trying to get the rest of this done while it's in my head. I really hope this one is as good as the first.
DEATH'S ESCAPE
Heero stared at his computer screen desolately. He heard Wufei gritting his teeth across the room. At that moment Quatre and Trowa walked into their office and took their seat. Today wasn't a good day. Not by a long shot. It wasn't an anniversary, per se. But it was a day that no one could ever forget. No one said a word. No one slept the night before and without a doubt, not tonight. It's been a year. One, long torturous year. A year old memory that feels but only a day in age. Any one on that particular floor was careful not to go near that office door or make a sound within hearing distance.
The silence was deafening. It was consuming. It was eating them alive.
Making them remember.
Remember him.
There wasn't a time or day that something happened that reminded them of him. Food, music, jokes, just about anything around them screamed Duo.
Duo who had gone missing without a trace exactly one year ago. Oh, they searched for him. Eight months worth of energy and time and lost sleep were fruitless. He was gone. And, as much as Heero would like to deny it, possibly forever. But they just didn't understand it. Duo himself had said that they were the only true friends he'd had.
And then he disappears.
But the real question is, why?
Why did Duo leave?
Why didn't he tell anyone where he was going?
Why was he hiding?
Why? Did he not consider them friends any longer? Had he really meant what he said?
If not, why did he lie to them? He doesn't lie.
At least, that what they thought.
Heero refocused on his pc screen. His head was filled with maybe's.
Maybe he could try again.
Maybe Duo might let down his defenses.
Maybe they'd be able to find him at last.
Maybe he'd come back to them.
Just…maybe.
Heero was nowhere near as confident as he is usually when it comes to Duo. The boy was always unpredictable. And enigma. A mystery. Even his movements are unpredictable. He'd proven it many times over with his impromptu disappearance.
The Japanese sighed and turned his attention to the large window behind him. Just what had happened? What made him go away? Heero knew he'd been a little harsh to the baka in the beginning. Okay, fine. He was outright rude to the American. But still he had tried his damnedest to be Heero's friend. It was awe inspiring, the boy's tenaciousness. Then after such a long time of trying…
He stopped.
It was questionable.
Duo trusted them with his life, and the same sentiment was shared among all five of the pilots. He made them all laugh, even if Heero didn't show his amusement outwardly. Duo brought them together. He'd brought Trowa and Quatre to their senses.
He taught Heero how to feel again, even if it didn't seem so.
That night, when Quatre had told them to look for Duo, Heero had felt little remorse toward Duo when they'd cornered him after bringing Quatre's battered form back to them. He, Wufei and Trowa had been furious. They told him to keep the other safe. But when Quatre told them the whole story, he'd felt a strange constriction in his chest. He chose to ignore it . But looking back now, he realized that Duo hadn't really let Quatre get hurt. He was only confused. He was part aggravated and part elated. A part of him was jumping up and down for joy that Duo actually listened to him. And the other was outraged, like 'What a time to listen to me, baka!'
Then they let him go on another mission, with every single one of the wounds he'd sustained from the mission gone bad. From what they'd seen patching him up, he'd done a fair job of doing it himself. They couldn't see, for the life of them, how he managed to sleep with those injuries. When they'd brought him in he wasn't anything like the Duo they'd come to know at all. Wufei had chalked it up to the raging fever that had almost killed the American. But normally after a while Duo would always bounce back to being his old self.
It didn't happen.
He was distant then. Quiet. Always on edge. Ready to bolt at the last minute. Like at the celebration a year ago. He runs, he hides. That's the only part of the motto that he held up all this time. Maybe he had lied about the friendship, but the other pilots would give anything to get Duo back.
Anything…
************************************
Duo took a long, filling swig of his beer and sighed. The window across the room was fogged from the 'dew' falling outside. Now looking at the frame in his hand, Duo sighed. It was the one he took of everyone while taking some downtime after a mission. He wanted a picture with just the others without him. He didn't know why at the time. He'd just wanted one. But looking back now, he understood. Because it wasn't the five of them anymore. From the beginning it was just the four of them.
And him.
He'd labeled them all as his friends, even after fighting a tedious battle with his memories. He'd reveled his past. He'd let them see the real him. He'd let them past his defenses.
And they tore him down. Used his confidence against him.
All you're good to be is the L2 street whore you always were. And as worthless as you'll ever be.
Duo downed the last of his twelfth bottle and let it fall to the ground, shattering on impact. His breath hitched. His eyes itched. His nose burned. His heart sank. But the tears would not come. Damn, but they'd turned him inside out and scrubbed him raw. He offered them friendship. They threw it all in his face. At least Quatre tried to get close. Whether or not it was a ploy to get him in trouble with Trowa and the others. It still touched Duo. Still, he didn't want Quatre to get into trouble. Didn't want his hoped crushed for the fourth time in his life.
Because of them he had to go into hiding. Because of them he was Lysander Wheeler by day; the guy with the nice cropped brown hair and green eyes. And the original Duo Maxwell by night in his own apartment.
No, no. He still has his braid. He'd learned from Hilde's adopted daughter how to fix his hair so that all wouldn't show under the short hairstyle he'd assumed. He didn't have to wear a jacket if he didn't want to. Didn't have to worry about anyone finding him out.
Sadly, that was another part of his problem.
Part of him never wanted anything to do with the other pilots any longer, hated them for all their worth. Part of him was too afraid to be seen by one and would have to relocate. Again. Another part, the hopelessly tiny bit that still thought of them as his true friends, hoped that they would come and look for him. Take him back. Salvage whatever was left of their friendship.
He never saw a cause so lost in his entire life.
With a shaking hand, Duo gently set the frame back on the coffee table. He let bloodshot amethyst orbs lock onto the image, Trowa stood tallest, as always. Quatre stood close to him, almost in the guy's nose. Wufei stood to the left, a small smile playing on his light pink lips. Heero stood to the left, not smiling outwardly, but there was the telltale glimmer of mirth in those impossibly blue depths.
Eye smiling if you will.
And it was the first time Heero ever showed any signs of being remotely happy. That was the best day of Duo's short, blood splattered life. Everyone else are probably living such melodious lives now. While his is just one long, low, monotonous note.
Duo sighed, preparing to get to his feet. He may have been drunk off his ass, but he still knew that he had work in the morning. Regardless of what he had to say on the matter. He stepped precariously over the brown shards and unsteadily made his way over to the stairs. He didn't make the first step, the booze getting to his head. He slumped to the floor, his last errant thought being of the bitch of a hangover he was going to have in the morning.
****************************
OWARI
A.N.: Yeah…about that ending….um…I don't know if I should continue. It ends pretty well then. If you want, feel free to continue it any way you want.
Just let me know first.
If I get enough reviews, say twelve or so, I'll think about posting on this again. But for now…
IT IS COMPLETE!!!!!
P.S. If I get those reviews and you're a late comer, disregard the finished piece.
P.P.S. I have a poll up. You can check my profile page and cast your vote. Poll ends on the first Monday in June, Happy voting!
