Wufei wasn't sure what to expect when Maxwell came back in by himself.

"Are we leaving or staying?" he asked, equally ready to do either. On one hand, the instilled value of blood and family clamored at him to try to convince Maxwell to stay, but on the other, he had learned firsthand how damaging certain kinds of relationships could be. Blood did not justify submitting oneself to abuse, and Stark's earlier accusations could certainly have been taken that way.

Maxwell's shoulders rise and fall with a deep sigh. "Staying, I guess," he said, and Wufei would swear he could hear quiet sounds of relief from their audience. "He peace out?"

There was no reason to clarify who he was. "Yes," Wufei said simply. There was no need to elaborate or to cause Maxwell any further stress. "We should eat." He may have phrased it as a suggestion, but it most definitely was not one. He had barely seen Maxwell eat in the last few days, and he knew what Maxwell's normal calorie intake looked like.

"I'm not hungry," Maxwell replied, sounding as weary as he looked. "I'm just gonna take our stuff up and crash, I think."

"Maxwell…" Wufei said, adding an undercurrent of warning. It didn't always work on Maxwell, but sometimes it amused him enough to make him humor Wufei.

Apparently today wasn't one of those days. Although he got a tired ghost of a smile, Maxwell shook his head.

The assassin woman, Romanov, went to the cabinet and pulled out a couple boxes of what looked like nutrient bars while Wilson busied himself in the fridge, coming up with no fewer than four thermoses.

"Dare I ask?" Maxwell said, a little bemused.

"You're like your father," the woman said, pushing the boxes at him. "Bruce buys those because sometimes we can get Tony to eat them, even when he's distracted. They're healthy, but they don't taste like cardboard."

"And these," Wilson said, holding up the thermoses, "are all just filled with water. Stark—Tony," he hastily corrected, "tries to keep the Tower mostly sustainable when he can, so reusables." He shakes them at Maxwell. "I have barely seen you eat in the last day. Don't make me take you to the hospital for dehydration."

Maxwell squawked. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me."

Raising an eyebrow, Wufei said, "I would not test the man. He seems quite sincere."

Using the edge of a box to try to jab him, Maxwell said, "You are not allowed to be funny. That's my job."

"Was it?"

"Ha. Ha." He moved to set the boxes back on the counter, but the woman glared at him.

"At least two if you're not having dinner with us," she said in a voice that dared him to argue with her.

He rolled his eyes, but he didn't argue with her, to Wufei's surprise. He wonders if it was the exhaustion of the last few days catching up with him or if he just wasn't in the mood for another argument. His qi remained steady and strong, which was all Wufei really cared about.

The reusable bottles fortunately had handles that allowed Wufei to carry them without much trouble as he grabbed his bag again. Maxwell likewise shifted the boxes under one arm and grabbed his own duffle.

"C'mon," Maxwell said. Wufei noticed that while he took the health bars, he didn't actually promise to eat them. An oversight on Romanov's part, but Wufei would make sure that he ate at least one, preferably three, but he'd settle for one if nothing else. If Dr. Banner trusted them as a meal substitute for Stark, Wufei trusted they were probably fine for Maxwell as well.

They didn't go to the elevator this time, Maxwell instead pushing on a door that opened to a stairwell that was at once industrial and practical and still showed bits of luxury and expense. Wufei might be used to the subtle wealth of his clan and the grandeur of Winner's estates both, but the Tower showcased a different kind of wealth. Exquisite quality in everything, more minimalist than not except for moments designed to be impressive and obviously expensive.

He found it distasteful, the near-subtle wealth juxtaposed with the conspicuous consumption. He didn't particularly like what he thought about the man who had such taste either. It wasn't his place to inflict his feelings about it on Maxwell though.

They climbed two flights of stairs, the door opening onto another almost subtle hallway if not for the art on the wall—Wufei would have to check, but he suspected that was a Piet Mondrian, and, knowing Stark, an original at that—that Maxwell passed without a glance as he made a beeline for a particular door.

The room was more than generous with a massive king-sized bed in the center of it. Maxwell crossed the room to the bed, sat the boxes on the nightstand, his duffle on the floor, and sat on the bed to start taking off his shoes. "I hope you don't mind sharing," he said.

Wufei didn't mind, exactly, though Maxwell was a clingy sleeper, but he was a little surprised. He was absolutely certain that the Tower had more than enough rooms for them both to have their own. He wondered if Maxwell wanted him close out of paranoia—his own for Wufei or for himself mattered little—or if he was just seeking reassurance and camaraderie.

He supposed it didn't much matter. Wufei crossed the room, dropping two of the thermoses on Maxwell's nightstand before going around the bed and setting his own bag on the floor. "I'd like a shower before bed," he said.

Maxwell's heavy boots landed on the floor with a heavy thunk, and he fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Through the door," he said, pointing more in a general direction than anywhere specific, but it was enough. Wufei opened his bag, pulled out his [cleaning things] and a clean change of clothes, and moved to take a shower.

Hesitating in the doorway, he looked back at Maxwell, who was still sprawled motionless. Wufei checked his qi more closely, but it was still strong, even, no obvious turmoil. "I expect you to eat three of those bars," he said. Maxwell waved a hand at him dismissively but said nothing. That wasn't good enough. "Maxwell," he said, firming his tone.

"One," Maxwell said, sounding drawn and honestly exhausted. Wufei wondered what he had discussed with the Captain, but didn't ask. Maxwell would tell him or he wouldn't, and Maxwell knew Wufei well enough to know that he would respect Maxwell's will in what to share. He didn't like it when Maxwell was this still though; stillness and silence were not his native state, and outside of the field, Wufei found it unnerving.

"Two," Wufei insisted.

Maxwell didn't reply for a moment before his chest rose and fell with a dramatic sigh. "Whatever."

It wasn't actually an agreement, but Wufei honestly wouldn't be surprised to come out of the shower and find Maxwell asleep, so he'd take what he could get. He stepped into the bathroom to wash the grime of travel from him.

Duo should really eat at least one of those damn bars, but even the effort to sit up and open one up seemed too much, never mind actually eating one of the damn things. Who knew what it actually tasted like. Not that it would really matter to Duo—he was far from picky—but he really didn't want to eat.

He drifted, his mind blessedly almost as white and empty as the ceiling he stared at, sinking into the nothingness so much that he actually startled and nearly pulled his gun on Wufei when he came out of the bathroom. Wufei stared at him for a long moment before raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

"Shit, you scared me," Duo said, moving to put his gun back in the holster, only to realize if he was going to pass out on the bed, he probably should take the holster off.

"Indeed," Wufei said, then his eyes glanced at the unmoved boxes on the nightstand. Instead of giving Duo a lecture, he just said, "You really should eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Duo replied automatically. It was even true.

"I know," Wufei replied with what sounded like weariness, his expression pained. Right. Wufei had strong feelings about Duo's childhood and how much of it he spent hungry to permanently alter his sense of hunger. "But you should still eat something. Or at least drink some water?"

If Wufei had been demanding, Duo would have found it easier to push back. Instead, he pulled off his holster, set it on the nightstand, slid the gun under the pillow, and grabbed the box. He didn't bother checking what it was—it was edible, that was enough—before he tore into it and pulled out several bars, tossing one at Wufei before he sat on the other side of the bed. Wufei caught it, of course, then gave him another questioning look.

"You gotta be hungry too," Duo pointed out, opening the bar and taking a bite out of it. Nuts and crunch, something that was probably like oatmeal, a little bit of the chew of dried fruits, and a hint of sweetness all caught him off guard, and just like that, Duo was ravenous. He nearly inhaled the bar before reaching for a second one.

He heard Wufei chuff, but ignored him in favor of taking a deep drink of one of the thermoses—one of the nice ones that probably kept the water cold for hours—to wash the bar down with. The water was cold and clean, and he must have been more thirsty than he realized because he was pretty sure he drank down half the thing in one go. Then he returned his attention to the bar in his hand and made short work of it too. Taking another deep drink that probably nearly emptied the first thermos, he turned, feeling Wufei's eyes on him.

"What?" he asked.

Wufei shook his head. "I'm relieved to see you eating is all," he admitted. "I at least made an effort to eat before we left."

"You shouldn't have held back just 'cause I wasn't hungry."

He got a pointed look from Wufei at that one. "How quickly those snacks and the water disappeared seem to indicate otherwise."

It wasn't like he didn't know Duo usually wasn't hungry until he started eating. Probably why the jerk wanted him to eat at least one bar. Duo pointedly lifted his nose as he reached for a third bar, because even though the initial food, eat, now instinct had passed, he was pretty sure another bar would do him good, though this one he ate more than inhaled.

"Smugness is not attractive," Duo said in a haughty tone.

Wufei gave him a little triumphant smirk. "Sally would say otherwise."

That made Duo blink. He popped the end of the third bar in his mouth, then shifted it to the side of his mouth to try to talk around it. "That reminds me. What was Sals doing in China anyway? Thought she was usually stationed in Brussel since she's Une's number two?"

Rubbing the towel through his hair as he finished chewing his own bar, Wufei took a moment before he replied, "I was supposed to be introducing her to the remaining relatives of my clan."

Duo blinked at him for a second, almost certain he'd misheard. "Isn't that supposed to be super important? Also, you two have been engaged for, what? Almost two years? Shouldn't you have already done this?"

"We are in no hurry," Wufei said, his usual implacable self. One of these days, Duo was going to be in exactly the wrong mood for that equanimity and going to punch him, just to make him move.

…Then again, Wufei probably wouldn't let the hit land, but that was kind of beside the point.

"But I know how you are about like, all that tradition shit and stuff."

Wufei surprised him with a little snort of laughter. "Tradition and shit?" he repeated, amusement in his voice as he set aside the towel and reached for one of the thermoses, taking a thoughtful sip before continuing. "I suppose I am."

"Only suppose?" Duo couldn't resist.

It got him a warning glare, but Duo grinned back. Wufei sighed. "Tradition has historically been extremely important to my clan and to myself, yes," he confirmed. "But in this… Sally and I agreed: you are more important."

Duo gaped, probably doing an admirable impression of a goldfish, but of the things he might have expected to come out of Wufei's mouth, you are more important than my traditions and family would never have been anywhere on the list.

"Close your mouth, Maxwell. You'll catch flies."

"As if Stark would allow a fly in this place," Duo retorted automatically. Wufei inclined his head in acknowledgment, then took another sip. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Aside from tired, I am fine. Why?"

"Uh, I don't know," Duo said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "It might have something to do with that whole 'you're more important than my family' thing. Can't imagine why that might send me spinning."

That made Wufei's brow furrow. "Maxwell," he began slowly, as if picking his words with care, which wasn't at all Wufei's usual style and made Duo more tense. "You are family. Surely you know that?"

Duo reached up to run his fingertips over the Jesus tattoo on his neck. "I know you used to feel that way," he said, looking down at the bed but making himself say the words. "But I didn't know if you still felt that way after… everything. Wouldn't blame you if you didn't."

Wufei sighed softly, though it didn't sound either exasperated or angry, so Duo risked flicking a look up at him. "You are family of choice, and yes, that's different than family by blood, but it is not necessarily a lesser bond. In some ways, I think the bonds we choose for ourselves are stronger, as it is only our own determination to forge them that holds them together."

"But… I know how you are about family…"

"And as you are family, I can certainly opt to put you above other, more distant members."

The words made Duo's chest feel tight, as if it had iron bands closing around it. "I don't understand," he said.

Tilting his head in query, Wufei asked, "Don't understand what?"

"Why blood matters," Duo said, forcing the words from his throat as if they tore it to say them. "I guess I just don't… understand 'family.' I thought I did, but…" He trailed, not sure if he just didn't need to say any more or if he couldn't. He thought back to the families he thought he had, once upon a time. He thought about what Rogers had said, about Stark searching for him for over a year, desperate to find him.

Wufei sighed, that soft, sad one that Duo hated. "I think you understand the heart of what it is to be family most," he said, which sounded like a compliment, but Duo wasn't entirely sure it was. "From an anthropological perspective, humans are social creatures. We're pack animals. Usually, in the case of blood family, those are the ones who have surrounded us our whole lives, who we have a tangible, provable connection to through our blood."

"That makes sense," Duo admitted. "But then what's up with these distant people we never knew? What makes them matter?"

"A sense of connection, I suppose," Wufei said. "I'm afraid I don't know how to better explain it."

Duo flopped back down on the bed, staring back up at the ceiling again. "It's stupid anyway."

"I don't think seeking knowledge or understanding are ever stupid. I am simply sorry I'm unequal to the explanation of… feelings."

He remembered the photos of children with dark hair and purple eyes. "What would you do?" he asked. "If you found out you had a kid you didn't know about?" He twisted on the bed to look at Wufei without straining his neck. "Not that you'd ever be that irresponsible, but…"

"I… do not know," Wufei began slowly, going very still and taking the question with the gravity that Duo meant it to have. "I suspect I would do much as Stark has… do my best to find them, to be part of their lives, do my best to… not make up for my absence, but to help heal wounds my absence may have caused."

"And if you found out your kid was like me?"

That got him a slightly censoring glare. "We are not in quite the same situation that Stark is. I think while I might be disappointed that a child of mine had chosen this path in their life, it would be more than somewhat hypocritical of me to be judgmental about it." He folded his towel and met Duo's eyes. "And what about you? What would you do, should you have found this long-lost child?"

The directness of the question stung something deep inside, and Duo wrapped his arm over his waist. "I dunno," he said, voice soft in the quiet room. "I think I'd find 'em, watch 'em… make sure they're all right. Maybe feel out if they want me."

Both of Wufei's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? You would not approach?"

Wufei had answered his question seriously, so Duo couldn't be flippant about this. He really poked at it from all directions, but ultimately decided, "No, I wouldn't. As long as they were happy and healthy… what would they need me for?"

"Oh, my friend," Wufei said, making Duo roll onto his side, away from him, not wanting to face the pity.

"Forget it. Forget I asked," Duo said. "I'm just gonna crash, if that's fine with you."

Wufei didn't reply, didn't even sigh, just got on the bed. Duo didn't even really feel the bed dip until a hand snaked around his waist, and he jumped, then relaxed as Wufei snuggled up behind him. Duo didn't remember him being this tactile, but he'd be lying if he said the warmth at his back wasn't soothing.

"It pains me to think you value yourself so little," Wufei murmured, barely loud enough to carry to Duo's ears.

Duo didn't have a good response to that. He knew his worth, knew what he was.

Knew what he wasn't.

Instead of replying, he pressed back a little more into Wufei's body and closed his eyes, hoping for dreamless sleep.