Disclaimer: I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write, because they're obvious. Thank you.

Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 5x[undecided

Timeline: During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

Rating: R. Supposed to be NC-17, but… [scowls

Warnings: Self-mutilation, cruel jokes…? Oh, and Relena-bashing. In an indirect way.

Summary: Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

One Joke Too Far

Chapter Seven

He'd spent the night in Duo's bed. That was the first thing Heero thought when he woke up with the dawn. He'd sought Duo out last night, the moment he'd come back from a successful mission that had kept him away for the past month, and since he'd been away so long they'd gone more rounds than normal and after everything he'd been so exhausted he'd fallen asleep without knowing it, apparently.

Someone – Duo, that someone must have been Duo – had cleaned him up, tucked him in. What was he, a child? Something in him raised a tentative hand and ventured cautiously that it felt rather nice, to have been looked after even if it had been while he was unconscious, but as usual Heero pushed it back. He didn't do 'nice'. The war was far from its end, he'd deal with everything else then. He couldn't afford to tend to such ridiculous things like emotional needs right now.

Right now, all that this was, was a deal with Duo. If the other pilot thought that the deal included taking care of him, then it was his choice. His choice.

He slid out of bed and went to his room. Took a quick shower and changed into shorts and a tank top, and then went to the kitchen, where he'd heard noises from and knew Duo was. Sure enough, the other pilot grinned at him when he entered, from where he stood over the frying pan. "Hey Heero – take a seat, omelette's almost done."

He sat without comment and snagged the newspaper from the tabletop. "You subscribe?" he asked curtly.

"Nah. It's a waste when I can check stuff on the net. Just thought you might want to look at it while you ate, I know you have a penchant for paper. Hell, you're so anal about your reports I'm surprised you don't hug them to sleep." Something flinched through Duo's eyes at his own words, but he turned to quickly back to the pan before Heero could catch more than a glimpse.

Whatever it was, if it was important, Duo would let him know. Other than that he had no reason to pry. It was always business between them.

Why that made him uneasy, Heero carefully didn't think about.

The omelette was set before him, and reading the paper, Heero cut a piece and took a bite without looking. It took a second for him to frown and stare down at his plate. "What is this?"

Duo gave him a weird look. "An omelette?"

Heero just glared.

"Tomatoes, mushroom, lima beans, diced bean sprouts to give it that crunchy bite!" Duo announced with a flourish of his spatula. When his only reply was Heero's stony glare, he sighed. "Okay, okay. Truth is, the veggies are going bad, so I thought I might as well try to mask any unusual tastes with the egg and use them as soon as possible. Waste not, after all."

"It tastes... interesting."

"But not bad?" Duo's voice was hopeful, though he tried to hide it.

"I think... no. Not bad."

Duo beamed.

It became a ritual, after that. For every night they spent together, Duo would get up early, buy him the newspaper of whatever town they were in, and make him breakfast. He tried unusual recipes and experimented with random ingredients, and more often than not his ingenuity churned out passable, and surprisingly often pretty good, dishes.

To his surprise, Heero began to feel... comfortable. And that made him feel uncomfortable whenever he thought about it, so he didn't think about it. Just accepted it as another one of Duo's penances. The rough sex of those early days had given way to a more detached, rather than angry, physical relationship between them, as Heero got used to it and the confused emotions subsided. They did it, and then they didn't speak of it. It was as if those times never existed, and Duo never said anything, just smiled and was normal. But he continued peacefully submitting to Heero's needs.

Sometimes, though, Heero was beginning to wonder if Duo hadn't already paid for it many times over already.

No. No, it was up to Duo. If the other boy didn't think he'd done enough, then who was Heero to decide? And the sex was indeed pleasurable. He wasn't stupid enough to give up something that put him at such ease, so he didn't say anything to Duo. Let the other boy decide for himself.

After all, Duo could stop this any time he wanted to.

And up to the day that the letter had arrived and he'd thought Duo dead, Heero had been content to sit back and wait. To hide from himself, from his own guilt and doubts and that insidious need. To let Duo make all the moves, except the sexual ones. To fumble his way along at his own pace, in no hurry to face the past.

"Heero?"

Heero jumped, startled, and gave an apologetic smile. "Memories," was all he volunteered.

"Oh. Okay." Gabriel leaned against the wall, next to the door they'd picked open when there'd been no response from inside the apartment. "I suppose this would hold lots of memories for you, huh?"

Heero looked at the dingy apartment, similar to their more seedy safehouses in the war. It had been the place itself, and the assorted mess of food on the table, that had brought that particular memory back, tinted with the despair he now felt. He'd been so stupid, back then. His training had been so that he could compartmentalize his mind, lock away whatever he didn't need, and he'd used that training extensively in his denial of what he'd started to feel, all that time ago.

Back to reality, though. Memory lane wasn't leading him to where he needed to go – and that was to where Duo was, right now, wherever the hell that was.

He walked another round through the one-room apartment, just looking. The state of the place pained him, the thin weak walls, the dripping ceiling – Duo had been living here, in this hole, while he'd been living in an opulent mansion. He vowed silently to make this all up to Duo, too – yet another item on an already too-long list.

The small sitting room was bland and dull, but the bedroom – there were touches that screamed Duo's name. His favourite books on a clearly self-made shelf that still looked professionally sanded and nailed, and painted a deep blue. A little painting propped against the headboard, a watercolour of an abandoned playground. The headboard itself was a riot of colour, a vibrant abstract pattern, matching the assorted colours of the small knick-knacks scattered around the room, like the odd collection of yo-yos, or the fat stuffed toy pigeon. Heero found a bittersweet smile on his lips as he drank in the sight, so long awaited-for.

They were so close.

"The landlord said that he was usually out before dawn and got back after midnight," Heero said, thinking out loud. "Recently he's been coming back earlier. So we have, what, two, three more hours before he returns, allowing for an hour's error."

"Ambush?" Gabriel suggested.

Heero nodded slowly. "Yes… but he'll fight, and you two won't be able to handle him, especially Mike."

"He won't have fully recovered," the young doctor pointed out, taking the comment with grace, knowing that he was far from either of the other two's leagues, especially Heero's. "There was a stomach wound, wasn't there?"

"The blood loss was pretty bad," Gabriel agreed, "but he'll have recovered already, look at Heero – two bullet wounds and one month later he's up and running. Thing is, from the tests we did, he's very weak – a deficiency in iron and other assorted metals, in almost every vitamin you can name –"

"Even if he's not at full strength, he'll still win either of you in a fight," Heero said absently, thinking hard. He needed a plan that would place Mike in the least amount of danger; Gabriel could handle himself to an extent. There was also the problem of hidden caches of arms, or an escape route.

If he was in Duo's place, where would he hide weapons? Where would the escape routes be? The small apartment surely couldn't hide many things, but he'd relied on Duo's ingenuity with limited resources in the war, and he wouldn't underestimate that ingenuity now.

Heero smoothed a hand down the sleeve of his jacket – Duo's jacket. He'd taken to wearing it, because it had smelled so strongly of Duo; this past month the scent had mostly faded, but it still lingered, and the thought that Duo had worn it was enough.

"Alright. This is what we'll do…"

Trudging up the staircase, Duo grumbled darkly to himself. It was as if Heero had dropped off the face of the earth, one month ago. Damn the bastard and his hiding skills! His stomach growled, as if in agreement, but the hunger pang that went through it was clearly upset with him.

He couldn't help it, though. Protecting Relena and Heero had strained his resources, but now finding Heero was almost killing him. At least before, he'd known where Heero actually was, when he was with Relena. She wasn't exactly an easy person to miss.

Relena – now, that bit of the past month confused him greatly. He couldn't believe the rumours about Heero slapping her, or something along those lines – but some battered, hurting part of him had started to hope. He thought he'd managed to beat that part of him into submission, but here it was again, whispering insidious thoughts in his head.

It's true that Heero's not by her side anymore. It's true that she's much more quiet and subdued nowadays. What other explanation is there? What if Heero really left her?

What if Heero really left her… for me?

Yet there was the way Heero had given up searching for Duo to stay by Relena's side. There was the way Heero had treated him like nothing but an object during the war. He remembered the words Heero had said to him, remembered those times with perfect clarity, and they had left no room for interpretation except for one – that Heero didn't care about him, or hated him.

But still… an image of Heero's face, Heero's eyes, in that café a month ago resurfaced in his mind, and he didn't know what to think anymore.

He sighed heavily, coming to a halt before his apartment door and fishing out his key, but just as he was about to insert it into the lock he paused. His senses were screaming at him, and Duo trusted his senses beyond anything else. Quietly, he moved to the side so that he was pressed against the wall and crouched down, making himself less of a target if someone decided to shoot through the door.

Peering at the lock, he cursed mentally. Whoever had picked the lock was a professional; there was hardly any trace of the act left, except for one tiny scratch where nothing had been when he'd left this morning. Thinking fast, Duo ran through the people he'd pissed off recently – small fry, small fry, possibly a threat but he'd probably scared them enough so that was a no, small fry… oh, there were those two gang members, maybe their gang had grown in power and number and so they wanted revenge…? He was certainly well known enough in the area for them to find him easily.

Opening the door would tell him more. Silently sliding his gun out, holding it securely, Duo reached up and inserted, then turned the key in the lock. He pushed the door open quickly, still crouched to the side.

Nothing happened.

Okay, so either the gang had come and vandalised his apartment and then left, or whoever was inside was more professional. Gang members like that would start shooting the moment the door opened. Since he hadn't done anything that would warrant someone of a higher skill level coming after him… wait, maybe someone hadn't appreciated his playing hero-in-the-shadows to Relena? No, he'd covered his tracks well.

Maybe it's Heero, searching for you like you're searching for him.

Duo shook his head hard, pushing that thought aside. It was too ludicrous for consideration. Unless… unless Heero had grown tired of Relena and wanted Duo back in the way they'd been together during wartime?

Nah. No way.

And even if it was… he wasn't sure he could survive it when Heero found someone else again. Even if it meant being in Heero's arms for a short, wondrous time. And yes, it was when, not if. He knew better than to think Heero could want him forever. And yet… and yet… if Heero appeared right that moment and asked for him back, he didn't think that he could refuse for long.

That was a thought for another day, though. Duo took out a pocket mirror and inched it around the doorway, tilting it at different angles. The apartment didn't look vandalised, but it also looked empty, and that didn't make sense.

"Um…"

Duo's head whipped around, his fingers tightening around the gun. He forced himself to relax a little, though, when he only saw a young man behind him, staring. There was a moment of awkward silence. "Sorry," the young man said at last, "but you're kind of… blocking the hallway. There isn't much of it."

That was true; it was so narrow that if Duo remained where he was, the other guy would have to either leapfrog over him or inch sideways pressed against the wall, like a crab. Either way would present him as a target if there was anyone waiting inside, and that wouldn't do. Sighing, Duo stood, and the other man's light blue eyes were drawn to the gun in his hand. His jaw hung slightly as he looked from the gun, up to Duo's face, and then to the apartment.

"Um…"

Duo realised what it must look like. He gave the guy his best friendly harmless smile. "Sorry, I can get a bit paranoid at times," he said, feigning sheepishness. "You new here?"

"Visiting a friend." The guy gave Duo a friendly nod, apparently accepting his half-assed explanation. "I'm Mike," he added, holding out his right hand.

Duo had to transfer his gun to his left hand, cursing all the way mentally, but his outward cheer never wavered. "I'm –" he was all he managed to get out, his hand reaching halfway across the distance between them – before the other man snatched the gun from his hand in a quick movement and shoved him into the apartment.

His brain was going what the hell? even as his body was reacting, reaching for his second gun, losing precious moments since it was less-used and so hidden in an more awkward position – his lower back, as opposed to the front holster. He was an instant too slow. The second gun was knocked from his hand as he was tackled to the ground, the attacker trying to pin his legs down and grab his wrists.

This second guy was good, using his superior mass to his advantage, but he was still not good enough. With a twist that made his bones grind, ignoring the pain, Duo freed a hand and shoved the heel of his palm into the underside of the man's jaw, causing his head to snap back and his grip to loosen for a fraction of a second. Even that tiny pause was enough: Duo twisted around and, bringing his legs up, used his feet as a springboard to push the attacker up and away. The man fell back as Duo scrambled to his feet – and got his first good look at his attacker.

That face…

Duo froze, his mind going numb. He knew that face. He'd seen it every day for the past year: Gabriel, second-in-command of Relena's guards.

Gabriel, here in his apartment, meant that the one behind all this shit was…

Heero.

He'd been planning to knock his attacker out, but knowing who it was, he couldn't do it. Leaving Gabriel gasping for air on the floor, he snatched up his gun, desperation lending speed and strength to his weak body. The door was out; Mike – if that was his real name – would be waiting. He'd have to assume Heero had found his planned emergency escape methods, but if so, he had one chance – one tiny chance, but it was there.

The only problem would be to not hesitate, or slow down, if – no, when – he saw Heero. Because Heero would be there, he knew it as surely as he breathed.

He threw open the window and vaulted out, using one hand as a pivot on the sill, the gun gripped tightly in his right. He wasn't about to shoot Heero again, but a deluge of bullets would at least delay him. The metal of the fire escape rang and buckled under his feet when he landed, throwing him slightly off-balance, and he cursed out loud at the cheap thin alloy even as he ducked without looking around, knowing what would come – and heard the air whistling as a hand chopped downwards where the back of his neck had been, now a hair's breadth from the top of his head. He tucked his legs in and rolled away from the presence that was blocking the downwards stairs, springing to his feet with his gun out and trained steadily at the other end –

And there he was.

Duo's breath caught, and his throat felt tight, but no tears came: that much he'd learned from years with Heero, and it all came back to him now, staring into those beloved, deep blue eyes in that familiar face. Part of him noted that the other man was making no move forward, his hands loose and open at his sides, radiating calm – but that part of him was distant, the rest of his mind more concerned with examining every minute change to those features. That thin white line on one temple was a remnant from that time when the daughter of some disgraced OZ officer tried to off Relena up close and personal; that short jagged starburst of a scar was from debris from a terrorist bomb. His skin was lighter, now, though still that Asian brown-gold, and there were more of those fine lines that came with age. The only thing that hadn't changed, though, was –

"Your hair's still a mess."

They both blinked. Then Heero smiled, half-amused, half-bittersweet, as Duo repeatedly (albeit mentally) kicked himself for not watching his traitorous mouth. "Hello to you too, Duo," Heero said, an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. "That wasn't exactly what I was expecting, but I'll take what I can get."

"What were you expect – no," Duo interrupted himself. "That's not – stay where you are. Don't move. Hands where I can see 'em –"

Heero gave him a Look.

"Okay, right, well, keep… doing it." Duo inched backwards, his free left hand searching behind him by touch. "I don't know why you're here or what you want and I don't need to know, okay? Just, just leave me alone again – no, shit, I mean, just leave me alone. Okay?"

The expression that came over Heero's face left Duo baffled; it was a mixture of pain and grief and something else, which made no sense. His fists clenched and unclenched, obviously holding himself in place by sheer will. "I don't want to," he said quietly. "I don't want to leave you alone… again. Ever."

Duo's felt his chest constrict along with his already clogged throat. What did he mean? What did it mean that he'd acknowledged the again bit? And why… why did he add that last word…?

Heero's voice interrupted his jumbled thoughts. "It's not there, by the way, don't bother searching for it."

"What?" was Duo's intelligent reply.

"The rope in the pulley system you rigged? I took it."

"Ah. Right." That served to clear his head, and Duo nodded, more to himself than anything. That's right… he'd been trying to escape, hadn't he? He needed to get out of here now; every second longer spent in Heero's presence made it harder and harder to leave. He was like a wandering, starving man in the desert, having forced himself to get used to a diet of cactuses few and far in between, but suddenly offered a buffet and a selection of beverages in return for his soul – and the longer he contemplated the feast, the more impossible it was to turn away…

And the more unimportant his soul became.

"Duo, there's so much I need to tell you –"

He fired, the bullet intentionally far from Heero's person, causing Heero to flinch reflexively. In that tiny space he flung himself over the rail, hand shooting out in mid-air to yank a cord hanging from underneath the platform. A rope tumbled out from the next platform down, and he grabbed it with his hands and feet, biting clear through his lip to keep from screaming at the rope burns on his palms – burns freaking hurt, a pervasive hurt that echoed to the very bones unlike other types of injuries. Letting go with his hands, his feet twisted around the rope, Duo slid down the rope upside-down in a controlled, inverted fireman's pole slide.

When he was near the ground, he bent at the waist in a parody of a sit-up, so that his back touched the ground first; from there, going along with the momentum, he gracefully executed a backwards tumble and jumped lightly to his feet – only to look up and see the first man, I'm-visiting-a-friend Mike, aiming a tranquilizer gun at him.

Oh, shit –

He managed to fling himself out of the way just in time. The-hallway's-too-narrow Mike looked startled, like he hadn't been expecting to miss and was now at a loss, and in a split second Duo pinned him as civilian even as he leapt forward, using his shoulder to tackle the other man. Due to oh-look-I'm-so-harmless Mike's civilian status, Duo didn't hit him too hard, only knocking the breath out of him. In a gentle way, and not vindictive whatsoever.

Running out of the alley, Duo gritted his teeth and willed himself to go deaf, hearing Heero cry out his name, anguish palpable in his voice, from above him – like an angel, grieving at the suffering below.

Like an angel, Heero shouldn't be sullied by anything.

Clinging to that thought, Duo ran harder than he'd run for ages, willing his heart to keep up with the damn programme and stop hurting. For that matter, his ears needed to cooperate, too – he'd run far and fast and even though, lost in the crowd, the babble of voices and the hum of traffic should have drowned out Heero's voice by now, he could still hear him calling. Just like an angel…

Or like a sin.

So very wrong, but still so very, terribly tempting…

Duo ran faster.

"It was very subtle, very well hidden – you had to know it was there. You're not omniscient, oh fearless one." Gabriel patted Heero on the shoulder.

"I should have known."

"Heero –"

"Just be quiet, alright? Go… go have make-out session or something."

Gabriel frowned and opened his mouth to retort, but Mike, knowing his boyfriend, clamped a hand over his mouth. When Gabriel turned his glare on him, the doctor shook his head minutely. When Gabriel continued to glare, he sighed and pulled him out of the room.

"Who does he think he is –" Gabriel began the moment the door closed behind them.

"Stop that," Mike said firmly. "What would you do if you'd just lost me and someone was trying to cheer you up by telling you that, oh, you're not perfect and couldn't have seen the signs?"

Gabriel opened his mouth. He shut it again. Finally, with a rueful smile, he said, "I'd kick him in the nuts."

"Exactly." Mike smiled at Gabriel and tugged him close, wrapping his arms around him. "Give him some time."

Making a face, Gabriel slid his own arms around Mike's waist, resting his forehead against Mike's and closing his eyes. "Fine. You win."

"I always do," Mike said agreeably. "Because I'm always right."

"So you're the omniscient one, huh?"

"Someone has to be. I'm the mature one, too. And the beautiful one, and the smart one, and –"

"I hate you, you great insufferable git."

"I hate you too, you whiny little retard. What say we get some supper and leave the leader to his moping?"

"Supper sounds great, and that last bit sounds even better."

I'm starting to hate my muses for dragging this out for so long… I want to know what happens to Duo too! Grr. And since my muses are actually part of me, recently I suspect that I have developed multiple personality disorder. One bit of me is going, 'Let Heero suffer longer!' and one bit is going, 'Let Duo suffer longer!" and yet one other bit is going, "This is turning into some Korean soap opera, next thing you know someone's going to get amnesia/hit by a car/an incurable disease/etc, let's just kill them off before things go really bad.' And of course, there's the bit that's flailing about and yelling, 'Just get on with it already!'

Help.

I think Mike and Gabriel are fast becoming my favourite OCs, yay.

Yes, I'm alive! And I'm really starting to get into writing again. This chapter is proof – Joke has always been hardest for me to write, and so being able to get this out, I'm pretty confident that the rest will be okay. Probably. Very likely. Wow, where did that confidence go…

Ashen Skies
"And the more unimportant his soul became."