A/N: This has been in my head for years. I'm sorry it isn't an update to any of my WIPs but… it's a challenge to get back in the heads of characters who I haven't lived with in a while. For now, all I can do is try to write - but rest assured that I am looking over my old work and making notes and preparing to update. Eventually. I'm sorry I can't promise more.

Also… I never took a writing/composition/literature course in college (long story why not) so… I'm making this up as I go. I make up a LOT of things as I go, but I've never really felt that guilty about it until now...

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex

Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.

What May Come

Chapter Two

Duo had the tired, restless look he had worn so frequently during the first war.

It was making it impossible for Trowa to study for his history test.

"You aren't sleeping."

Duo looked up from his own work, a series of mathematical diagrams spread out over the desk they were currently sharing in the study lounge they had commandeered for the evening.

They only had one class together and they silently endured Freshman Composition I from the back of the lecture hall - it was the one course neither had any preparation for as somehow composing essays had never come up in Trowa's life as a mercenary or in Duo's former career as a pickpocket. It certainly hadn't been something they had been trained to do when they became teenaged terrorists.

Over the last two weeks they had expanded on this tiny overlap of schedules. They usually ate lunch together after Comp before going their separate ways during the day. Most nights, however, they met up in one of the hundreds of study lounges scattered across campus to work.

Trowa was surprised by how little they spoke during these study sessions - he had also thought Duo was as talkative as Quatre, but he was clearly wrong. Even now, as he thought back to the wars, he could remember that Duo liked to crack jokes and always had a surly comeback prepared for any insult, but he rarely engaged in lengthy conversations or chatter.

There were pale, violet rings around Duo's eyes but he shook his head in denial.

Trowa snorted.

"You are the worst liar I have ever met."

"Which is why I never bother with lying," Duo muttered.

"Until this failed attempt," Trowa had to point out.

Duo shrugged.

"Sure. Fine. I'm not sleeping much. Are you?"

He didn't appreciate Duo turning the question back at him. He slept as well as he ever had - meaning that it took him a solid hour to finally quiet his mind and fall asleep and then only a few hours later found himself waking up from nightmares and unable to fall back asleep. Still, he knew from checking in the mirror that he didn't look nearly as bad as Duo.

"You look like you're still in the war," Trowa told him.

Duo's lips twisted.

"Aren't I? Aren't all of us always going to be still in the war?"

Trowa shook his head.

"No. No," he repeated emphatically. "I can't do that - I can't spend the rest of my life the way I've spent it up to now."

"That's a nice thought, but you still have nightmares about them, don't you? You still see the faces of the people you've killed and you still know what fear tastes like, don't you?"

Trowa glared at him.

"The only way people like us get to escape the past is by dying, Trowa."

"What happened?"

His question startled Duo.

"What?"

"What happened? Things weren't this bad last night."

But Duo shook his head and started to pack up his things.

"No. I'm not going to do this Quatre space-heart therapy bullshit with you."

Trowa sighed in irritation.

"Fine."

He didn't particularly want to do it either.

There were times when being around Duo made thinking about the past worse and times when being around him made it easier. Tonight was clearly one of the former for both of them.

Duo had his bag slung over one shoulder and was halfway out of the door when he paused.

"It's…" Duo still had his back to Trowa, and he could see how tense his entire body was, as though he was waiting for a blow to land. "Relena Peacecraft dedicated a hospital to war orphans in New York City this morning."

Trowa frowned.

Duo, like the rest of the Gundam pilots, was no great fan of Relena Peacecraft but he seemed to respect her - or at least acknowledged the need for people like her. Trowa doubted that Relena dedicating a hospital was the real reason Duo was this on edge.

"In New York City?" He repeated, wondering if that was the clue he was supposed to pick up on.

"Yeah," Duo agreed, his voice curiously devoid of emotion.

Trowa tried to wrack his brain. He didn't think the Terran city held any importance to Duo - to his knowledge there hadn't even been a battle near the city. Wait.

"Why the hell is she dedicating a hospital to war orphans in New York City? The nearest fighting was at least three hundred miles away."

Duo laughed, a short, bitter chuckle that made Trowa catch his breath. That was the laugh of Shinigami.

"Because there are more news outlets in New York City than in the middle of nowhere, Trowa."

And with that, he was gone.

Trowa spent another hour glaring at his history notes before finally giving up - he wasn't going to get any work done tonight.

On his way back to his dorm room he stopped at the caf. The lights were off and the doors were locked but Trowa easily worked his way past the lock and entered the huge, empty room.

He walked to the former opening and lay down, his head pressed against the cold plexiglass, and stared out at space.

Despite his memories of this room it was still the quietest place he had found on campus, if only this late at night.

He could only guess at whatever demons were plaguing Duo - it was hard enough to pin down his own. Laying here, surrounded by silence and darkness, he tried to remind himself that the war was over and they had made a better place. He tried to convince himself that it had been worth it.