Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Warning: Not for those afraid of heights.

A/N: Big thank you to Camillian, Rein, Sadie Woods (Clever reviewer! Good guess - its amazing how space and sympathy works!), Lesser God (Glad we clarified that point - hope Duo's a bit better in this?), Kami-Crimson (oo-er, hope i live up to the expectation now!). See how reviews work, wasn't going to put this up until next Sunday! Apologies if Duo does come across as short tempered, this is partly influenced by how he appears before the wars, plus both he and the rest of the pilots are under huge stress atm - it gets to a guy. Anyway, read, enjoy and tell me what you think!

The Tribulations of Peace

By Corralero

Government Document: CLASSIFIED INFORMATION

Character Assessments of the Gundam Pilots regarding their Temporary Foster Care Placements, provisionally dated 27th May.

Compiled by: Mrs L. Jupp

Barton, Trowa: An extremely quiet, shy boy. Appears timid of meeting and speaking to strangers, although observed reasonable, if limited, interaction with peers. Often seems disinterred and distanced from proceedings. Possible signs of mistreatment.

Chang, Wufei: Strongly respectful of established elders and guests. However, a little impatient and short-tempered. Confident nature. Came from established background with intact family structure. Family deceased.

Maxwell, Duo: Indicated behavioural problems and attitude problems. Rebellious and reluctant to partake and answer questions. Reactions and excuses given by others suggest ongoing problem.

Raberba-Winner, Quatre: A charming young man! Well-balanced, polite, sensitive to others and their needs. Appears emotionally stable and mature for his age.

Yuy, Heero: Quiet and intense young man. At times appears unsure of how to interact in society. Sometimes a little unresponsive emotionally, but courteous, considerate and helpful both during and after procedures.

Further Comments: The nature of this case requires care to be taken but especial attention should be paid to placing Trowa Barton into a considerate home while I recommend that Duo Maxwell be placed where firm discipline and handling is available.

(Source taken from M.Schoinsberg, The Complexity of Peace)

Chapter Two – Up a Tree with No Canoe

They didn't see Duo at the late lunch they prepared. Nor was he at tea. Unconcerned they settled for the night. It took a lot to truly piss Duo off, but when he did get into a strop the four other pilots knew from experience that it took him awhile to cool off, but tea had been a sober affair without Duo's usual chatter.

When Duo failed to appear for breakfast the following morning, however, slight frowns cross the usually stolid faces of Trowa and Heero, while Wufei huffed in concerned annoyance and Quatre bit his lip. In unspoken agreement the four friends began to search.

Three hours later and they were still looking. The compound to which they had allowed themselves to be confined to was set in pleasant parkland with a small house situated in the centre. Pleasant it may be but to one such as Duo it provided limitless opportunities to remain out of sight. The situation degenerated further still at the unexpected arrival of Boyster along with representatives from the organisation that would be handling their placement into foster homes. As they watched their approach towards the house from the kitchen Quatre turned to the others.

"Stay here and make our excuses while I find Duo."

Without waiting for a reply, he slipped quietly out the backdoor and stood on the patio, mind racing furiously over the possible overlooked hiding places. Finally he trotted off towards the small wooded copse near the boundaries of the compound. Trowa had already looked but one never knew. Once there, his eyes began scanning the bushy undergrowth to no avail. Then a thought struck him. Whenever upset, Duo had a tendency to climb up – onto the roof, up his Gundam, into a…tree. Slowly his vision tilted upwards to meet a pair of violet eyes. Duo had scaled a large oak and was sitting on a broad branch as casually as if it were a couch, apparently ignorant that he was some twelve foot off the floor. Now he was peering curiously down at the blond haired teenager below him.

"Lost somethin', Quat?" He inquired.

Quatre smiled innocently upwards, "As a matter of fact, yes. It's about this high." He raised his hand to his own height, "Black with a long braided tail, answers to Shinigami."

A faint giggle rewarded his efforts then silence fell. Quatre sighed. "Am I going to have to climb up there?" More silence. Quatre's head swam at the thought of being so high off the ground without Gundamian steel surrounding him. Slowly he began to climb as Duo watched, eyebrows raised in surprise. He knew how much Quatre hated heights – almost as much as he hated foster homes. Quatre did quite well, all things considered, getting to perhaps eight feet before he halted, looking pleadingly upwards as he clutched at the tree trunk.

"How about a compromise?"

Duo nodded, fair was fair after all. He swung himself down easily to where Quatre sat straddling a thick, sturdy branch. He smiled across at the unusually quiet braided boy and produced an apple from his pocket.

"Hungry?"

Gratefully, Duo accepted and devoured the offering. Once his mouth was finally devoid of food he sat back.

"Thanks, man."

"You're welcome." Came the reply. Quatre looked curiously at him, "Did you stay out here all night?" He inquired shrewdly. Duo shrugged nonchalantly.

"It's warm out. 'sides needed a bit of time ta think an' clear my head without Heero or Wufei tryin' ta kill me."

"They don't want to kill you, Duo." Quatre said quietly.

"Yeah?" Duo snorted "Sure acted like it." He chewed on his bottom lip, fiddling with the end of his braid. "Kinda needed ta cool off as well." He said finally.

"Look, about yesterday-" Quatre began hesitantly but Duo cut him off with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I know, Q-man. An' I'm sorry 'bout that. Promise I'll play along now an' be good."

"Oh I know that." Quatre waved a dismissive hand, he was all too aware of Duo's dogged and intense loyalty to his friends. It was, in Quatre's opinion, one of Duo's most admirable qualities. For someone who seemed to befriend everyone he touched, it took a lot to truly earn the American's friendship, but when you did it was near impossible to lose it again. "What I wanted to know is what's wrong, Duo? Why don't you like foster homes?" He finished compassionately. Duo looked at him askance.

"Was I that obvious?"

Quatre wrinkled his nose as he continued. "I just want to understand. From what I hear the system had many admirable qualities and successes."

Duo rolled his eyes, "Yeah an' so did Treize apparently." Quatre frowned sternly at him, refusing to allow the subject to drop. The braided pilot raised his hands in surrender.

"Fine, fine, whatever. It just don' work for me, ya know." He gave an uneasy laugh, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head as he avoided Quatre's eyes and tried to explain what he could. "None of 'em ever wanted me. They all hated me, sent me back. Guess I can be pretty annoying, huh?" He forced a brief laugh, "They'd take anyone 'cept me." He mimicked in a high cultured voice of long ago.

"Oh, Duo." Quatre sighed "Don't worry, it'll be different now. We'll still be here."

Duo's shoulders squared as he raised his eyes, any vulnerability covered with rebelliousness.

"Yeah, well don' worry 'bout it, Quat." Nimbly he stood and began to climb downwards. Quatre followed his progress with his eyes, inwardly wondering what the other had not said. Duo's past was a rocky area and Quatre was well aware that there was still much they didn't know and perhaps would never know. He had, for example, had no idea anyone had even tried to foster the strong-headed mischievous individual, let alone how the process had gone. He couldn't help but wonder whether the problem had not lain at least partly within Duo's causing. Then abruptly, as Duo reached the bottom, he began wondering something far more practical.

"Umm, Duo?"

Below him Duo looked up questioningly.

"A little help?"

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Things were moving so fast that Trowa was left feeling slightly bewildered. Within a week of Boyster's appearance with the sickenly condescending Mrs Jupp from the placement services, who had rubbed all of them, even Quatre, up the wrong way, they had been notified that appropriate homes had been found for all of them which they could move into tomorrow. The one good thing about the sickenly condescending Mrs Jupp was that, unbeknown to her, she had gone someway to at least chip, if not break the ice that had frozen between the pilots.

They had laughed over Duo's impressions of her later on that evening as he had carefully placed three sugar cubes in front of Wufei, asking loudly and slowly if he would like one, sliding one cube forward, two, sliding another forward, three, sliding the final cube to join the others, lumps of sugar in his tea? He persisted in this manner of address towards Wufei until even Heero was clutching a stitch in his side and until Wufei eventually erupted, stomping off to practise some particularly violent hand-to-hand combat moves outside and throwing a plant pot at Duo's head when he informed him it was nine o'clock and high time he was in bed. Yet despite his clowning around, Duo still wasn't quite right. Trowa could see the fidgeting, the slight awkwardness in his usually fluid movements.

The Jupp woman really had brought out the worse in Duo, Trowa thought. A side that had surprised the Heavyarm's Pilot for it's sheer rebelliousness and truculence. Duo had been scathing, irksome and moody. Trowa had seen flashes of this side to Duo before, in particularly strict or militant school, when adults and authority backed Duo into a corner and suffocated the wild streetchild within him. And Trowa understood, perhaps more so than the others, though for most of his life that he could remember he had been under the thumb of the mercenaries. He understood the instinctive distrust of adults and authority, the foolishness of handing the reins to another. He was, they all were, fiercely independent, but he and Duo had been surviving on their own since before they could remember, in ways that even Heero had not. Still, he mused as he packed up the few belongings he had in his room, the allied government's method of ensuring their safety to the public was a bitter pill to swallow.

An abrupt knock on the door roused him from the wandering paths of his mind. He glanced up as Wufei entered. The Chinese boy spoke.

"The car is waiting. Are you ready?"

He nodded, zipping up the duffel bag Cathy had brought him. Briefly he wondered when he'd see her again. Stepping out into the corridor he saw that Wufei too held a duffel bag. Once outside, they walked over to join the others who were loading their bags into the boot of a dark, sleek, official looking car, which was to take them to their destination. Trowa stared for a moment at the five duffel bags seated in a row in the boot. That was it. That was all they'd come out of the war with. Mentally, Trowa shrugged as he slammed the boot shut. To his mind they were lucky to come out even with that.

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The car journey was not the liveliest trip they'd had. Deathly silent would better describe it as each pilot was sunk deep into his own thoughts. Duo's face was carefully blank, his eyes shuttered. Quatre's attempt at polite conversation failed miserably as he himself became distracted. The car drove on and on and on. It wasn't fair, Trowa thought, as he rested his head against the window. By rights they should have been celebrating, perhaps with the comrades they had found during the war. Sally, Cathy, Howard, the Sweepers, Releena. Instead they found themselves once again sequestered, unable to even contact them. He felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. First lesson of life: It wasn't fair. Second lesson? Deal with it. He couldn't remember who told him that. Whoever it was they were far too right for his liking. The car swung into what appeared to be the parking lot for a local school in the suburban outskirts of Chicago. He sat up a little straighter, soldier instinct kicking in as his eyes swept over the area, noting cover, exits, visibility and weather conditions and the five people standing next to the eternal Mr Boyster and Mrs Jupp.

To Be Continued...