Don't own 'em. Wish I had a plushie.


I watched the braided baka laying against the bed, stirring every so often. It seemed almost as though his dreams were as tortured as mine - the nightmares that tore through my mind even during my waking hours, splitting my consciousness between the pain and the present.

During the few days that Duo lay unconscious, his body warm and trembling with fever, I watched him. I watched him like I thought he watched me, wondering what he saw in those dark, starlit nights. I watched him twist and turn, wincing even in his slumber, reaching out for something, someone. My hand drifted to the washcloth of its own accord, slowly moistening his lips as he whimpered and dreamed. I found myself taking care of him without even realizing it - and I tried not to think about what he'd said.

I tried not to think about whether or not he was talking to a dream or a hallucination. I tried not to think about my sudden revelation, that he'd followed me. How dare he follow me? How dare he intrude upon my private thoughts? What made him think I wanted him to do that? What possessed him -

"Duo? Are you awake?" I asked suddenly, those long lashes fluttering at me. At times I wish he'd trim the damned things so he wouldn't look so... so... Nevermind.

"Uhm?" The sleepy-eyed Shinigami slowly shifted his gaze up to me, a slightly confused look on his face. "Am I dreaming? I think I'm dreaming. I've had this one before, I'm sure of it, but usually you're IN the bed..." He grinned coyly at me, and I resisted an urge to return a scathing comment. He was injured, after all.

"Can you sit up?" I held my arm out for him to steady himself, and was unable to meet his eyes. He grasped my wrist gently, giving me a serious look.

"I'm fine, Heero," he replied softly, his eyes dark and soft. It was almost as if the whole of his heart was poured into those shimmering orbs; the gaze he gave me took my breath away. I knew what he wanted to know, as he shifted his hand up my arm toward my elbow, testing me, seeing if I would react.

"Do you wish that I bring you some food? Or would you like assistance to the shower?"

"Damn it, Heero! Every single time I try to talk to you, you shut down. This is EXACTLY why we both sit in our rooms at night, staring out the window, wanting to know why we're still in this fucking life. Every. Single. Time. You always run away from me, and I am NOT going to let that happen." It wasn't often that someone could silence me with their words, and yet I found myself unable to speak, unable to move. Time itself seemed to slow, and then stop, as every moment of my life flew past my mind rapidly - vague feelings of pain, of terror. Memories of darkness and then... and then nothing. My memories took a metallic twist, turning into emotionless images that I couldn't find my way through. Death. Destruction. Torment. Torture. And at the end, I held the blades. The whips. The guns. Moment after moment I was assaulted by memories, lost in the blood-stained past.

"Heero?"

What was that? Who...? I shook my head, trying to pull away, reaching for my belt pocket as I went to move toward the door. A hand tightened on my forearm, tight enough to hurt, and I blinked, suddenly staring into the eyes of Death himself. "Duo?"

He watched me for a few moments, waiting for the haze to clear from my eyes. "I think... I get it," he murmured slowly, his thumb stroking at the flesh beneath it slowly. "But Heero... I didn't follow you to hurt you, or spy on you. I just..." Eyes shifted down, staring at the bandages. He laughed ruefully, disgusing his pain - I knew him too well for him to lie to me with a glance. At times, anyway. "I just thought you deserved someone to watch your back, you know? To make sure nobody else just ran into it and asked what the hell was going on. I mean.. it's not like you're the only one. But nobody should make you hurt more "for your own good." I think you've had enough of that."

It took me a breath or two to stumble my way through that convoluted, rambling explanation, and as I sorted my thoughts, he tugged at my shirt lightly. "Do you really understand, Duo?" I replied quietly, trying to gain the courage to answer the questions he so obviously wished to ask. "Do you... do this...?"

The braid flew this way and that slightly as he shook his head. "Nah. But that doesn't mean I don't get it. I pretend, or play stupid games. Or hit things. But you..." It was hard not to watch that long, pretty hair as he shook his head again. "We all got stuff to deal with from the past, right? But some of us got the chance to deal with it. You just... were drowned in it, and I don't think that they ever wanted you to get to the surface."

"Thanks, Duo," I murmured softly. "For... not stopping me." His fingernails traced along my skin, still stained with dirt and blood. Taking a deep breath, I wondered if it was time to ask for what I longed for. For what I needed for so long.

"It's okay."

Shaking in terror, I sat next to him, wondering if that was all he had to say. It seemed as if I shouldn't have these feelings, and I needed so badly to flee, to run through the apartment outside, to...

His hand lay against my upper arm, stroking it lightly, watching me wince. "I promise. It's okay."

Perhaps I would have the courage after all. Then again, feeling his hand gently over the expressions of my inner torment...

Perhaps not.