Chapter 4


When he woke again, his headache had faded to a dullness he could ignore, and he felt warm and comfortable, his limbs heavy and relaxed. The room was dark and quiet. He wondered what time it was, but he didn't have the strength to sit up and find out without some effort. He thought about trying, though—it was probably time for some meal or other, and if he didn't get himself up, they would probably force him to eat in bed and then go back to sleep. Sure he was tired—but he hated the feeling of staying in bed all day, hated the idea of letting time slip by like this.

The door creaked and Heero's voice interrupted his whirling thoughts. "Good! You're awake! How's the headache?"

"Better, Hee-chan!" Duo turned his head in the direction of the voice and smiled brightly, squinting at the light spilling from the open door. "Is it time for me to come down for dinner?"

"We thought we could bring it up to … ok. One second." Heero came in all the way, and leant down to pick Duo up, wrapping one blanket around him.

"Heero!" Duo protested, closing his eyes against the rush of dizziness at being lifted. "I could …"

"Wufei is saying I should learn compromise," grunted Heero, readjusting his grip on the squirming Duo but not breaking stride. "I'm compromising. Also, you called me Hee-chan again. You know better. For that, you can eat on the couch."

"Hmph." Duo tried to sound disgruntled, but couldn't hide his smile. Eating on the couch had always been a treat, even before he'd been ill—Heero had rules about such things. So he subsided obediently, letting his head rest against Heero's shoulder and closing his eyes. Heero's heartbeat was strong under his ear, and being carried like this was making him a little light-headed. Heero was probably right—despite his fussing, he wasn't sure he could have made it down on his own. He didn't want Heero to know that—but he was starting to wonder if he was fooling anyone. He used to be good at running and hiding—but Heero and Wufei knew him better than anyone ever had. He couldn't lie, it was hard to run when he was too weak to get out of bed, and between the two of them, they'd find anywhere he could think of to hide.

They kept saying they loved him. But Duo knew them, he reminded himself—both were kind men at heart, and who didn't pity a dying man? Maybe they even did love him, but that didn't mean they would wait forever. They might be kind, they might even love him, but they weren't fools. He didn't love fools. He loved survivors. And Heero and Wufei—both were strong, and both were survivors. They'd had to be, and Duo respected that about them. He was the idiot who made the wrong choices, always—but the two of them were smart, not sentimental.

They deserved to be happy, to live their dream. It wasn't their fault that he was sick, or that he'd begun to have feelings he had no right to have. That they stayed … that was his fault.

Still … they hadn't known he was listening. Duo had tried, but he couldn't figure that part out. And it was getting so hard not to believe the lie they kept telling him.

Hard not to believe that they loved him-and not only despite that, but because of that, they wouldn't leave him.

"Stop thinking so hard." Heero ordered, his tone amused.

"Hmm?" Duo, foggy with drugs and sleep, and distracted by his thoughts, didn't register the words.

"You're straining yourself thinking, idiot." Heero's words were sharp, but his voice betrayed fondness and concern.

"What, and listen to you?" Duo smiled, teasing back, trying to swallow his initial annoyance at Heero's high-handed attitude.

"Couldn't hurt. We're right, after all." Heero smirked, and his tone had a teasing quality to it, but the remark was edged.

Duo sighed, and then tried not to gasp as Heero carefully lowered him to the couch. He'd started experiencing dizziness and vertigo more and more lately. Him, a former Gundam pilot. It was almost laughable.

"Okay?" Heero was asking, and he managed a weak nod while suppressing a shiver, not seeing Heero's narrowed eyes. It was cold down here. He hated being cold.

Then warm arms and a warm blanket were wrapping themselves around him. Wufei. He hadn't even noticed the other man on the couch, arranging himself so Duo was half reclined against the other's warm body.

"Better?" Wufei's voice was a deep rumble against his ear, and Duo nodded and relaxed, eyes closing and letting himself sag against Wufei's solid strength. He refused to think about the fact that all he'd done in the last few hours was sleep and be carried downstairs. Wasn't he the guy that had been able to run 10 miles and pilot a gundam and take out a whole battalion of Ozzie troops, all before breakfast? Wasn't he the guy that could work all day and party all night and never stop smiling? Wasn't he the guy that could sneak into a secure facility and steal blueprints and evade a swarm of military issue detection-bots, without even breaking a sweat?

Wasn't he the guy that took a licking and kept on ticking?

"No, don't sleep. Heero made some soup, and it's very very good. I had a little earlier. So have some, and then you can stay down here for a while, ok? Heero's going to make up the fire, maybe we'll watch a movie or something."

Eyes still closed, Duo smiled. "'Kay. Just resting." He was suddenly so tired. He didn't want to eat anything, but he decided to humour 'Fei. Heero would probably be a few minutes, anyway-he just needed a moment or two.

He felt lips brush the top of his head, his cheek, felt fingers stroke lightly against his face. "Good." Then he heard Wufei's voice rise slightly. "Heero, bring some aspirin, if you can?"

Duo's smile faded. Couldn't 'Fei just kiss him without some ulterior motive? And he felt fine. He'd know if he was feverish—fevers made him feel tired and cold, and he was relaxed and warm right now. He was fine.

He felt Wufei move slightly, adjusting the blanket; he felt the touch of cool air before the blanket was tucked around him again as he was moved to sit up. The smell of warm soup assailed him, and he fought down the urge to gag. Really, he didn't want any.

"No … " he mumbled, opening his eyes and pushing the soup away.

"Yes," said Heero, implacably. "The soup's good and it's simple chicken broth—you like it, and it's easy on the stomach. You have to have a little." The voice was firm, but Heero's eyes were scared and pleading.

He tried. God knows he tried, but it wasn't long before he was throwing up both the soup and whatever else he'd eaten in the last half day, with Wufei holding his hair and rubbing his back, and Heero standing in a corner cursing, and he just wishing he could die already, because this …

This sucked.


He's sleeping.

And gods, he's lost so much weight, throwing up anything we manage to persuade him to eat—I think we'll have to have Sally over, get her to start him on IV fluids again. He won't like it, he'll refuse, but he won't be given a choice.

I wonder, sometimes, if he hates us for that.

Duo's always been independent—hell, he grew up on the streets, he had to be—and he chafes against our caring. Both 'Fei and I can see that, and we've tried to be patient, tried to understand-but sometimes, sometimes he makes it so difficult.

He has never let himself lean on us—no, not even after all this time. He has bad days sometimes—hell, we all do. Sometimes for a normal, everyday reason: work, luck, whatever. Sometimes, though, it's because of our pasts: a memory, an involuntary reaction to something that triggers a flashback, some awkward idiot knowing too much and understanding too little of our pasts. But when we do, Wufei and I come home and growl and bark and snap, and he understands; ignoring what we say and do, he is quick to comfort us. And Wufei and I have learnt to allow ourselves that comfort.

But he never admits to his own upset or distress, instead he hides it from us, as if he would be chastised for letting his smile slip.

We started to learn the signs; we had to when he wouldn't use words, and because his signs were not ours: rather than irritable and snappish, an upset Duo was often just a little too cheerful, a little too enthusiastic, a little too annoyingly hyper, our snapped comments or insults rolling off him or instigating even more outrageous behaviour. It had been odd to learn that a relaxed Duo was actually often fairly subdued; the determined cheer and forced hyperactivity was a red flag for tension or misery. Once we got to know him a bit better, it was easy to spot; once we figured it out, we made sure on those nights to indulge him. To not react to his outrageousness with rebukes, but rather to reassure him of our love and acceptance. Not to feed his misery and insecurity by snapping or insulting him. And on those nights we watched, waiting for the inevitable nightmares-the one thing he couldn't evade, or escape, or run from. He always thought he woke us now; he didn't need to know that we took turns at waiting up, waiting for the quiet shudders and soft gasps so we could wake him and hold him and soothe away whatever it was he ran from in the day, but couldn't evade in his sleep.

Sometimes he didn't even sleep, and those nights usually stretched into days. Those weeks were the worst; watching him ache, watching him try to hide it, letting him pretend he succeeded, and not allowing ourselves to offer him the comfort we believed he needed, the comfort he would not accept.

I used to think it was pride, but was sad to learn it was fear; he'd never felt he could lean on anyone, not even us, and if pushed, he just got evasive or, if pushed too hard-defensive and angry. And when Duo got angry he had only two reactions: Fight or Leave. Since he wouldn't fight either of us, he left. I've had a couple of horrible nights, worrying, and so has Wufei. Wondering, terrified that he might never come back—Duo has never been one for promises, for declarations or absolutes. But so far, he has always returned. So far.

I watch as Wufei covers Duo with another blanket—he's been shivering, and he's sensitive to the cold. L2 is a warm colony, and their winters are mild—he's never quite gotten used to the colder temperatures. Plus, he's got a fever, which brings with it chills—he never complains about anything much, but it's easy to see. I watch as Wufei draws him closer and Duo settles into the embrace, a small smile on his face. It's an uncomfortable position for 'Fei, but Duo is resting more easily than he did upstairs, and I know Fei doesn't mind.

"It's ok … " mutters Duo.

"What's ok?" asks Wufei gently. It always surprises me how gentle my fierce dragon can be.

"The curse … better me than you … glad it worked like this this time … don't worry …"

Wufei's expression changes in an instant, and I move forward to put a warning hand on his arm. 'Fei was always too quick to anger, and the tension in his body rouses Duo, whose smile has faded into an uneasy frown.

"…'thing wrong?" He's only half awake, struggling to awareness.

"No, Duo, go back to sleep. Everything's fine." I step in, keeping my voice low and relaxed.

"'Fei?" Duo's voice is high and distressed.

"Nothing's wrong, stop worrying like an onna. Sleep." Wufei manages to make his tone sound both slightly irritated and soothing, and despite the very real anger in his eyes, I could see him forcing his muscles to relax as he runs a hand over Duo's hair and over the side of his face caressingly. Duo responds accordingly, settling back down. Wufei looks up, and I can see the frustration in his eyes.

"Not now," I warn, and see my lover nod in terse agreement. Duo needs rest, not argument right now.

But in Wufei's eyes, I could see my own despair.


A/N: May be a while before much more ... but I will get to it! And as always, feedback is love :-)