A/N: Thanks about five million times over to the folks who have taken the time to read and review.
Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex
Pairings: I'll give you two guesses. No, three guesses.
What May Come
Chapter 10
It was the third night back and Trowa was drifting in that space between wakefulness and sleep that he feared the most. His senses felt dull and slow, but he couldn't seem to motivate himself to wake up or sleep and so he drifted, waiting for something to push him one way or another.
It reminded him of space, of the time Quatre had destroyed his suit and he had drifted, without thought or purpose, and he could practically feel the chill of space against his skin now, as he curled up on his bed and tried to think of nothing.
Harsh, rasping gasps assaulted his ears.
They were faint, audible only because Trowa had shoved his bed against the wall he shared with Duo's room, but they were enough to wake him up.
He listened to the panicked breathing, the sounds of someone choking and struggling and he felt his own breathing become shallow and labored.
Trowa had heard men breathe like that before. Gun shots to the lungs, blood and liquid drowning them from the inside out. Cracked helmets and faulty space suits, leaking air slowly until they noticed they were dying and their last gasps of life before death won. Explosions that ripped apart buildings and people and little enough of a man left to even make sound.
His legs were unsteady as he swung them over the bed and stood. The cold floor grounded him, reminded him that he could feel, and that reminded him that he could breathe.
Duo's door was locked, but these were old, cheap latch locks and he opened it with minimal effort.
The UV light cast a faint, blue-silver glow on the room and Trowa winced before his eyes adjusted.
Duo was in his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs and a grimace on his face and he gasped again, his hands clutching the pillow under his face so hard his knuckles were white.
Catharine had tried to wake Trowa from a nightmare once, and for days after she had avoided looking directly at him and she had cradled her sprained wrist as though it was broken.
Trowa could have broken her wrist - could have killed her - and it was only a lucky thing that he hadn't permanently hurt her.
He approached Duo cautiously. He wasn't about to reach out and shake him awake, the mistake that Catharine had made with him.
"Duo." He spoke the name softly, firmly but the other man couldn't hear him.
"Duo," he said it louder and blue eyes shot open at the same moment that Duo moved backwards, shoving himself against the wall, curling his body around his knees.
Trowa swallowed hard and forced his mind to stay where he was but it was hard. Duo scuttling backwards like that - Trowa had seen it before, had done it before - and it was difficult to see that now, in this place, at this time.
Duo was still wild eyed and Trowa held up his hands, palms out, showing he had no weapons.
Duo stared at him for a moment longer and then he closed his eyes and seemed to focus on breathing for several minutes.
When he opened his eyes again he looked tired and lost, but the terror was gone. He swallowed hard and it seemed like he was struggling with what to say.
"Maybe I should have had you sign a waiver before we moved in together," Duo muttered.
Trowa arched an eyebrow.
"You already warned me a year ago that you might wake up and try to strangle me," he pointed out, referencing the night he had slept in Duo's bed.
Duo nodded rapidly and it was clear he was still struggling against whatever demons he had been grappling with moments before.
"I can take first watch," Trowa offered and his words startled both of them.
"You… you don't mind?" Duo had never sounded more vulnerable and Trowa fought back his urge to run away.
"No," he said and forced himself to approach the bed.
Duo watched him apprehensively and Trowa found himself questioning his sanity as he eased himself down on the bed beside Duo and positioned one of the pillows under his head.
He stared up at the ceiling, at the play of the UV light on the dimples of the ceiling tiles and beside him Duo lay back down, stretching out his legs and folding his hands over his stomach.
"I really only wanted to use you for access to the private head," Duo apologized.
Trowa gave in to an almost hysterical urge to laugh and he chuckled. Beside him, Duo grinned slightly.
"This is why no one ever let you plan missions," Trowa said.
"Because I never account for the possibility of a psychopath not being able to sleep?"
"I always thought of you as more of a sociopath," Trowa mused.
"Trowa, that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," Duo sighed.
They lay together in silence for what could have been hours before Duo spoke again.
"It's not always that bad."
"But it is most of the time?" Trowa guessed.
Duo nodded.
"Different, though. It's not always the - different memories, different nightmares, yanno?"
Trowa nodded. He did know.
"I just haven't adjusted to being back on base yet, s'all. Just need to remember no one is going to turn off the air supply and I'm not going to die like that."
Trowa felt the rawness in Duo's voice like a scratch of a knife across his skin.
"I'm here," he assured Duo. "I'm not going to let you die like that."