Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, yadayadayada...

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Wufei woke with the ever-present pressure in his head. It constantly felt like he was holding his breath underwater for too long. The pressure made it feel like your eyes were going to shoot out of their sockets if you didn't quickly pop out of the water and fill your lungs. Wufei wished he could take a breath of air, but he knew that that wouldn't stop the smoldering force.

He rolled to his side, the bed frame protesting with a creak, and reached for his bag that lay on the floor. His hand blindly rummaged through it until it took hold of a small smooth object the shape and size of a cigarette lighter. He pulled it out and brought it up to his face. He studied it for a moment; it was mostly black, except for the small clear cap that covered the tip of it. He yanked the cap off, revealing two small prongs. Straightening his one arm he pressed the prongs into the bend of his elbow.

He pulled it away as the relief washed through him like a single breeze on a hot summer night and laid still for a few moments letting it slowly remove each brick from his mind. Carefully he opened one eye and placed the cap back on and sat up. Opening his other eye he threw his legs over the side of the bed, tossed the object in his bag and stood to stretch, waking his muscles.

Why was he here? He pulled a pair of pants out from his bag and slid his one leg in. The choice not to come was given to him, but could he have taken it? He could have kept going, but where and for how long? Sliding his other leg in he stood and pulled the pants up to fasten them.

No. He couldn't avoid this. After the war it felt like he had abandoned ship and was constantly swimming away from the boat. Always fighting the undertow. It was relentless; continuously pulling him below and now it finally dragged him back. It was futile, no matter how hard he fought it he would never escape.

Escape. Escape what? He sat down on the floor and extended his legs to the sides and felt his muscles being comfortably tugged. Was he avoiding the others? His muscles relaxed. No, he didn't mind them, didn't he? They acted and thought in different ways than him, but that only caused annoyance and irritation at times. It was not enough for him to want to avoid them. Then why did he travel such a distance and put up a barbwire fence to block them and everyone out? He kept his legs spread and lowered himself between them, his stomach lying on the floor.

He had shared several experiences with them. They were the only ones alive whom he might be able to relate to. There was the war. A pit grew in his stomach and it felt like he was on a roller coaster slowly easing its way up the hill and teetering over the edge. He sat up quickly. They fought beside him. It was the memories of the war he was trying to escape from and the others only brought them to the surface.

Was he such a coward that he was running from memories and the others for being a window into them? He quickly stood and snarled at the thought. He closed his eyes and a flash of light, oranges and reds waltzing, exploded. His eyes shot back open and he blindly rammed his fist into the wall beside him. He left his hand there, the plaster crumbling around it, and waited until his shoulders slowed their heaving before he slowly dragged it out. He ignored the pain and the small droplets of blood forming around his knuckles, laughing at him, and grabbed his jacket and left.

Dr. Mills entered the swimming pool room, his shoes clicking on the bare floor and the smell of chlorine punching him in the face. He scanned the room and nodded at the man who was always standing guard in the corner. A pool could be a very dangerous thing. His eyes shifted down into the water and he watched the form swimming, the only other person in the room. It had taken him a while to track Duo down.

He became captivated as he watched him. His shoulders dominated the water. His hands forced it to break as he slid through it with as much grace and speed as any water born creature. He reached the end of the pool and mechanically turned and shot off of the wall with his feet, an underwater missile with no target. He turned again, his pace never slacking.

His hand gripped the side of the pool and his head popped out, the water splashing around him, trying to fight back. He looked surprised for a second and then he smiled, his mouth a half moon. He yanked the small sleek goggles off of his head and with both arms dragged himself up and out of the unnaturally blue water.

The goggles left a small red ring around his eyes and Dr. Mills did a quick look over of the boy. His frame was well built. No hint of fat existing or ever existing for that matter. The water trickled over him and he noted the scars that decorated him, sure each held a story. His skin was pale from the lack of light and the short red swimming trunks he wore added to the sickliness of it. Duo turned to grab a towel off of the table behind him.

"How do you fit all of your hair in that?" He pointed at the red swimming cap that was still latched onto his head. Duo laughed.

"It takes patience and a lot of cussing." He yanked it off and tendrils of hair spilled all around him like a cloak. It was long dark curls and Dr. Mills fought back the urge to touch it. Duo quickly took hold of it and began to braid it. "The braid doesn't fit with the cap. It makes it bulge out in spots, making is seem like I have things growing out of the sides of my head."

Dr. Mills nodded and crossed his arms, taking it all in. Duo continued to braid. "Do you enjoy swimming?"

"No, not really. I mean, I don't dislike it, but...I don't necessarily care for it." He looked at Dr. Mills. "It's just something to do." Dr. Mills nodded, understanding how restless he must get.

"Well, you're very good at it for someone who swims only to fill the time." Duo laughed lightly and finished with his braid.

"There was a short time when you couldn't pay me to go near water." His words echoed off of the high ceiling.

Dr. Mills took a step closer. "Traumatic experience?" He asked carefully.

Duo laughed loudly, a burst like a popped balloon. "No." He continued to laugh lightly as Dr. Mills' shoulders sank. "Nothing like that. There was a mission. I had to reach a base and the only way I could do it was to swim. It took forever and that water was damn cold." He rubbed the droplets of water off of his legs with the towel. "I ended up having to spend a few hours trying to stay perfectly still to avoid being found, which is pretty hard to do. After that I kept my distance from large amounts of water. I had had my fill of it."

He can talk about missions easily enough, but not about anything else. "Did you suffer from hypothermia?"

"Huh?" Duo removed the towel from his face and continued to dry himself off by rubbing his arms.

"Any hypothermia?"

"Oh. Yeah." He laughed lightly and Dr. Mills thought it odd. "Not a fun experience." He finished up with the towel and tossed it into the basket that sat on the floor next to the table. He shrugged his shoulders. "Did you want anything?"

Dr. Mills returned the shrug. "No, not really. Just checking up on you."

"Have you ever heard of a lemming?" He looked at him, waited a beat and then continued. "There small rat-like creatures, long extinct. A myth developed about them. It was said that these things would commit suicide by running off of a cliff." He scratched the back of his head and tugged at his braid as he went on. "There's no truth in it, but people made this idea up and came to believe it and expected to see lemmings jumping into their graves. They would search for anything that could be used to prove it was true. Find a dead lemming by a boulder, he must have climbed up it and jumped off because there were no cliffs around to use."

He released the end of his braid that he had twirled around his finger and looked directly at him. "I think I've become a lemming. People expect me to have dirt under my nails and sores on my hands from digging my grave. They constantly look for it and any little thing they find they twist around until it fits what they want to believe." He leaned in, bringing himself closer to him. "The graveyard shift isn't over yet, but I'm not a goddamn lemming." It was silent for a moment and he turned and walked into the changing room.

Dr. Mills watched him go and then glanced behind him at the row of chairs lining the pool. Duo always ended their conversations by saying something that would intentionally leave him speechless and would turn on his heels and leave. Was it a defense mechanism? Whatever it was, he had grown used to it. He sat down on one of the chairs, swore and quickly shot up. He swatted at the back of his pants and glared at the small puddle on the chair. Grabbing a towel he wiped the water away with vengeance and sat back down, ignoring the muffled chuckles the man in the corner gave.

Duo had proven to be a difficult person to work with. A difficult patient. Patient. He engraved the crucial word into his mind. Duo made him feel like he was in a maze. He was bound to make some wrong turns and decisions, but with patience and consideration he would reach the end goal, Duo. The outburst that had occurred made him realize two things. The first, Duo's condition was worse than he had thought, and secondly, he was reaching him. The fact that it had been his name that he called for made him want to puff his feathers out like a proud bird.

Duo came out of the changing room and for the second time that day Dr. Mills had managed to surprise him. He pretended not to take note of him as he walked over to a large counter with a small red bag with his name written on the side of it slung over his shoulder. Water slowly dripped from the corners of it due to the wet swimming trunks and goggles it held. The silent man walked over to him and took the bag and placed it in a bin for washing, and then it would be placed back on the shelf besides the other patient's bags.

Duo turned and looked at the doctor for the first time. He rose from the chair and walked over to him. "Care to take a walk?"

Duo smiled, thought if he had the option to refuse or not, and then said sure. The two walked out of the room and left the annoying echoes behind them.

Dr. Mills eased his hands into his pockets as they walked. "How'd you sleep last night?"

A grin flickered in Duo's eyes. "On my back."

What? Then a laugh escaped him. "Good one." He glanced over at him. "Seriously though, no," he thought for a word "images?"

Duo sighed and smiled a haggard smile. "Nothing unusual."

Never a direct answer, damn he was good. Fine, new subject. "Your," once again he debated the use of a word, "friends are planning a visit this evening. I'll be speaking with them."

Duo glanced at him briefly. At least the guy kept all of his arms in clear sight, no knives hidden under the belt, and Duo was silently grateful for that. "And what's the topic of discussion?"

They walked a little more before he answered. Duo was in one of his dark moods. He wasn't up to hiding behind smiles today. "Anything they want." Duo inwardly grimaced at the word anything. He hated being on display. That's what he was. Everyone could look in on him now that he was being forced to draw back the curtains that he used to hide behind.

He remained silent and Dr. Mills began to feel his melancholy attitude. Depression was contagious. "I understand Mr. Chang will be joining them this time." He waited, nothing. "It seems that he's been out of the loop for a while."

Duo's eyebrows arched up briefly. "Haven't we all?"

"Well, not you and Heero. You spoke with Quatre on and off enough." Duo shook his head lightly, non-verbally telling him that he had no idea what he was talking about and never would.

"You can be standing right beside someone without them ever really being there."

Dr. Mills had been trying to piece together the relationships between Duo and the other young men, something that had proven to be more difficult than he had expected. A hundred piece puzzle with too many missing pieces to complete it.

He looked at Duo through the corner of his eye. He walked with his hands shoved into the pockets of his black pants and looked like he was buried in his own thoughts and shouldn't be bothered. So they walked in silence.

When they came to Duo's room Dr. Mills had to wonder who led who, or if either for that matter. Duo sat down on the edge of his bed and watched him. He wasn't going to strike up a conversation. He would leave that for the professional and if he couldn't that would be just fine with him.

He took a step in from the doorway and silently looked at Duo as he stared back. "I'm here Duo." He paused. "When you're ready. I'm not here to judge, but to listen, and that's something new to you I think. Don't lock the door and loose the key." He turned and walked down the hall, not looking back at the boy whose eyes silently followed after him.