Notes: Thank you to Mako for bein' a beta!
General Warnings: Yaoi, angst, bits and pieces of sap slipped in. References to infidelity.
This Part Specific: References to abuse. Villain!Zechs. References to 1x2x5 and 3x4.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing
Duo's favorite thing about the house he'd bought with Wufei was that it was on the beach. He sat on the shore, fingers in the sand, waves licking his ankles. His hair was down, loose in the breeze. Slowly, he raised his hand, pouring sand out of his fingers. It had been a week. A week since he'd woken up wedged between Heero and Wufei, Trowa keeping watching in the background. Zechs was dead, at peace, thanks to Heero.
They were all reeling. Duo was short half a foot of hair, having gained 14 stitches, a bullet wound, and internal bleeding. He'd made his way out here slowly, in stages, to get away from everyone. Heero had shut down, would speak only quiet Japanese—and only to Wufei, which hurt more than it should. Wufei had two broken legs, stitches and lacerations and he watched Duo like he was a ghost, reaching to touch and then drawing back. Zechs had told them he was dead, and instead of feeling warm about what his life mean to them, Duo felt hollow. Quatre was bruised, only, and he hung around, watching Trowa with sad eyes as he tended wounds.
Trowa, who had been shot and carried Duo out on his back, then refused to let go. Who had evened out his hair like trimming a hedge, and would speak softly to Duo in the middle of the night, when Duo let blame and rage engulf him. He should've killed Zechs when he had the change, back when Heero had finally confessed to the abuse, when Wufei had gone to jail on false charges, his family ripped open at the seams.
"Heero needed you. Wufei needed you," Trowa would state, calm and cool and in full possession of his hair. Duo would turn away, in his own bed, and close his eyes. They needed him and he needed Trowa and Trowa didn't need anyone.
"Hey," he said as Trowa sat down next to him, lighting a cigarette, nudging his shoulder gently in acknowledgment. Duo nudged back, smiling a little. The smoke billowed in the air.
"How's your shoulder?"
"Hurts," Trowa grinned at him. "You should kiss it and make it better."
"You're cute," Duo snorted, grinning a little more. They sat in silence as Trowa smoked, and then Duo felt Trowa shift and lean in to him. He stiffened as Trowa nosed his hair.
"Heero explained about your hair...I'm so sorry, brat," he could feel Trowa's breath against his scalp as he spoke. Duo swallowed as Trowa's fingers touched the back of his hand. He turned his hand over slowly, letting out a shaky breath as Trowa tangled their fingers together.
And then he was on Trowa's lap, face pressed against his chest, and he cried and cried and cried, for Solo and Sister Helen and Father Maxwell and Heero and Wufei and everyone else he'd never been able to save.