Warnings: In this part, nothing too bad. Touch of language.
Trowa abuse and more implied Duo abuse, but no graphic descriptions or
anything like that. Central parings are 1+5 and 3+4. I know
I said that the next part would be the last, but the story starting writing
itself again, so things may not happen as planned... but then again, I
did warn you... Enjoy and R&R!)
Unresolved
(part IV)
by Quelirain
Wufei climbed the stairs slowly. Time to think had been in short order ever since he walked into that room and saw Heero. The few minutes he'd had where he couldn't do anything, he'd schooled his mind to blankness, keeping his focus on the situation at hand and not its implications. Years of meditation had its benefits.
But now he couldn't tell himself that there were other issues more immediate and pressing to focus on. And suddenly, he found it difficult to breathe as he climbed the stairs, one step at a time.
//I will not be weak,// he told himself firmly, driving the vague unease that had been with him since he'd arrived on L-2 back to its corner. //No judgments. No assumptions. I will talk to Heero; I will listen to what he has to say. That is justice, and I will have justice.//
He reached the top of the stairs and couldn't help wishing that the hallway was longer, or better yet, that he'd forgotten Heero's pain pills at the hospital. Before he could quash his first thoughts, a desperate yearning to comfort his koibito surged within him and was quickly replaced with an equally strong desire to strangle his lover. He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.
//Neutral. Calm.//
He walked down the hallway until he reached the door to his room. Methodically, he placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly to the right, then pushed forward. Heero lay on his right side, facing the door as he always did when he slept. His eyes were closed, his bandaged hand tucked carefully in front of him, his breathing deep and even.
Wufei knew Heero wasn't truly asleep—his breathing was far too regular for that—but he drank in the relaxed planes and angles of Heero's forehead, his nose, the dark lashes invisible against the dark circles under his eyes, the light pink lips closed together.
//Ah, ai shiteru, Heero... but justice...//
He stepped into the room, rattling the pills slightly so that Heero would know he was there. The steel-blue eyes opened. Wufei avoided meeting them.
"Your pills." Opening the pills, he tapped one into the cap and handed it to Heero. "I'll get water."
When Wufei returned from the bathroom with a small paper cup filled with water, his lover was sitting up, his back against the headboard. Wufei felt blue eyes tracking his movements as he silently offered the water. Heero took the cup and put in on the nightstand, but didn't reach for the pill.
"You're due to take the pill now," Wufei informed him flatly before walking to the door.
"I know."
The sound of Heero's voice stabbed through Wufei's heart, the careful neutrality mixed with a note of uncertainty and pain. He knew they would both find comfort in each other's arms, but his loyalty to Duo combined with the injustice of Heero's act kept him from throwing himself onto the bed next to Heero and crawling into his embrace.
Yet he couldn't leave. That would be weak. So he stood there, unmoving and silent.
Duo's smiling face floated into his head, juxtaposed against the swollen and broken boy he'd handed to Trowa this morning.
//Yuy, why do you have to make things so difficult?//
More memories surfaced, memories of the time when he'd just admired Heero from a distance; memories of how, years later, Heero had looked at him with a fire that had made him shiver; memories of the time when he'd hoped and feared that maybe... maybe it was possible that someone like Heero could need someone like himself.
//I can't just walk away...//
Wufei crossed the room in one long stride and found himself in the arms of his beloved, and they comforted each other as best they could.
***
A timid yet persistent knock on the door woke Relena Peacecraft from her well-deserved sleep. "Who is it?" she called out grumpily.
"Miss Peacecraft, you have a call."
She groaned. "It never ends, does it?" she muttered.
"Could you repeat that, Miss Peacecraft?"
Clearing her throat, she answered, "Who is it?"
"Miss Schbeiker, Miss Peacecraft."
//Hilde? At this hour?// "Did she say what she wanted?"
"No, Miss Peacecraft. She insisted on speaking to you immediately in regards to a personal matter involving Heero Yuy."
That drove that last bit of sleep from Relena's body. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Put her through to my personal office. I'll be there shortly."
"Yes, Miss Peacecraft."
After a few minutes in the bathroom, Relena walked through a connecting door from her sitting room to a small office. Soundproof and airtight, the room could double as Relena's personal bomb shelter. It was also the only room in the house, aside from her bedroom, where there were no cameras or other monitoring devices. The external security was heavy, but once locked inside her office, she was guaranteed as much privacy as she wanted for as long as she wanted it. It was often the only way she could escape from the hectic world that surrounded her and demanded her services 24 hours a day.
The small vid screen indicated that a call was waiting. Relena pushed a button, and soon Hilde's face appeared. "Hello, Hilde."
"Relena? You look awful. Did I wake you? I always forget about the time difference. Not that I would have waited in this case anyway."
"Slow down a little. I just woke up," Relena pleaded. "I was told this was about Heero?"
"Well... sort of, but not entirely."
Relena blinked. "Out with it, Hilde," she ordered.
"Okay..."
By the time Hilde finished explaining the situation on L-2, based on what Quatre had told her, Relena's eyes were wide. "That doesn't sound like any of them."
"I know, it's strange, isn't it?"
"I'm glad you called," Relena replied.
There was a silence, then Hilde said, "So when will you be on L-2?"
"You want me to go to L-2? What for?"
"You're the renowned negotiator for peace, and heaven knows that they need some right now. I think even Quatre is having difficulty dealing with the situation. He looked a bit stressed on the phone. Normally he'd handle all this, you know, but he's focused on Trowa right now. Cooler heads have to reign here, Relena, 'cause if they don't, we might be holding some Gundam boy funerals." Hilde smiled. "Anyway, I think you could use a vacation. Can you get to L-2?"
//This is a vacation?// "Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"The sooner, the better. Duo gets out of the hospital tomorrow."
"Will you be coming?"
Hilde paused. "No... no, I don't think so."
Delicately, Relena said, "Duo might like to see a familiar face."
Hilde laughed harshly, though her eyes were wistful. "Not this familiar face. We're over and done."
"Even so..."
"Believe me, he'll have all the familiar faces he wants at his side," Hilde said, looking away from the vid screen.
Relena knitted her brow. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing." Hilde smiled brilliantly at the screen. "Forget I said anything. I'll let Quatre know you're coming."
"The more information I have, the better work I can do," Relena said quietly.
Hilde sighed and studied something that Relena couldn't see. "He never loved me. I knew it, but I thought he'd get over it, learn to love me, I hoped..." She paused. "But when I found that photograph of you and Heero in our bed—under his pillow!—I couldn't pretend anymore. The proof was right in front of my face."
Relena maintained the neutral face she'd perfected during years of maintaining the peace. "You think that Duo is still in love with Heero."
Several expressions flickered across Hilde's face, too quickly for Relena to interpret them. "I don't know who he thinks he's in love with, but it's not me, and that's all I'm worried about right now." She sighed. "Call me when you get back."
"All right." They said their goodbyes and disconnected. Wearily, Relena eased out of bed. It was going to be a long day.
***
Trowa returned to Quatre's around ten, his face emotionless after a long run had burned off his excess energy. "Quatre?" he called. There was no answer.
//Must be upstairs.// He headed up the stairs, looking for the young blonde, but didn't find him in his office. He cut through a carefully concealed side door to their suite and found Quatre curled up on the bed. He watched the delicate face sleep for a few moments.
//Ah, koi.//
Trowa stripped off his clothing and threw it into the hamper in the corner of the master bedroom, then went into the bathroom for a shower. The hot water drummed against his skull, shaking loose memories of dark nights with groping hands that always found what they sought.
He pulled back his wet bangs from his face, letting the water flow over his closed eyes. Rubbing the soap over his chest, he passed his hands over the crescent-shaped discoloration that curved around his nipple—an overexcited Deitch had done that with his fingernails—and across his pectorals, where small burns, cuts, and other assorted implements had left their marks. Across his back, he knew, was a long diagonal scar. The injury had been one of his first "gifts" from the mercenaries he grew up with—he hadn't been quick enough in retrieving a cup for Jaz. A close encounter with one of the construction workers had left a series of slightly raised bumps along his left thigh where stitches used to be; and four inch-long parallel scars crawled up the back of each of his hips. The original Trowa Barton himself had inflicted that one.
Numbly, Trowa finished his shower, dried off and dressed. Then he curled up next to Quatre and dozed off, soothed by the sweet scent of his lover's hair.
When he woke a few hours later, Quatre was gone. "You looked so tired, I didn't want to wake you," a note on the nightstand read. "I'm taking care of some business. I'll meet you at the hospital around two. I hope you feel better."
Trowa rolled over and stared at the ceiling. He hadn't meant to lose his temper at the hospital last night, but carrying Duo and seeing what had been done to him by someone he should have been able to trust had woken Nanashi. Though Trowa had followed his lover's advice and worked toward letting the past go, the scars etched in his soul remained, and Nanashi—his name then—knew the time, place, and perpetrator of each one. And it was Nanashi who raged at the beating of Duo and yearned to punish Heero for what he'd done.
He turned his head and pressed it into Quatre's pillow, inhaling the scent of his love. It calmed him somehow.
//What Heero did to Duo isn't the same was what I went through. I'm not dealing with Jaz, or Deitch, or Trowa. I'm dealing with a friend who's done something reprehensible and knows it,// he reminded himself. //And to be honest, Duo doesn't seem too upset about the whole thing. Should I be if he's not?//
Stretching, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.
//I should apologize to Heero. I don't like what he did, but I did act without knowing what happened. That's not fair.//
He left the room and walked down the hall to Heero and Wufei's room. He listened at the door. Hearing nothing, he swung the door open quietly.
Daylight filtered into the room through the translucent curtains that had been pulled over the window, making it easy to identify the two figures on top of the bed. Heero lay closest to the door, Wufei's head on his chest with one arm thrown around the taller boy. Heero's fingers twined in Wufei's loose hair. It was a sweet sight; Trowa had spent many nights sleeping with Quatre in much the same way.
"It's Trowa," he said, knowing that both of them had probably awakened when he opened the door, yet only Wufei turned to look at him. He signaled Trowa to be quiet. Carefully, he disentangled himself from his lover, who stirred in his sleep, but didn't wake. The two slipped out into the hallway, Wufei closing the door behind him. "What do you need?"
Trowa looked at the closed door. "How is he?"
"Resting."
"He didn't hear me come in."
"An aftereffect from the medication they gave him at the hospital," Wufei replied.
"How long will he be asleep?"
"I don't know," Wufei said shortly, brushing fine black hairs out of his face. "What do you need from Heero?"
Trowa blinked. "I wanted to talk to him," he replied. Softening his tone of voice, he met Wufei's eyes. "To apologize."
"The pills will wear off shortly, but he hasn't slept since we've been on L-2, so it should be longer." Wufei yawned, reminding Trowa that the dark-haired pilot hadn't gotten much sleep last night either.
"I'll stop by later," he said, turning to go downstairs. //Maybe I'll go to the hospital a little early.//
***
Wufei watched Trowa walk downstairs before slipping back into the room. Heero was sitting up, his eyes open and clear. "Who was that?"
"Trowa."
"What did he want?" he asked in the same voice that had torn at Wufei earlier.
"To talk to you. To apologize." Wufei sat on the other side of the bed, one leg folded under him. "I didn't realize you were awake."
Heero shrugged. "I felt you leave."
An expectant silence extended between them as Wufei studied his well-wrinkled pants. The conflict within him had roused as soon as Trowa had left. He'd found peace in Heero's arms, that much was true, but he knew that if what was unspoken remained so, it would eventually be insurmountable. It was time.
Wufei turned to face Heero. "Why did you injure Maxwell?" he asked crisply, his voice betraying nothing of how he felt.
Heero didn't flinch or hesitate in answering. "I was not prepared for my reaction to seeing Duo again and repressed it. I suspect Duo knew I was going to explode eventually under the pressure of being here. He defused me."
Questions surged into Wufei's mind, and he narrowed those down to the most immediate concern. "You're saying he deliberately pushed you to do this."
Heero shook his head. "I am responsible for my actions. Duo was trying to make me understand something I should have known. He knew the risks involved, considering my state of mind, and accepted them."
"He knew that this could be a potential outcome."
"Yes."
"And he accepted it."
"I believe so."
Wufei considered this. "What was he trying to make you understand?"
"A finer point about words not always carrying their literal meaning," Heero replied. "More specifically, regarding my ignoring you in favor of my laptop."
"I see." Wufei turned to the nightstand to seize a hair binder, covering his discomfort as guilt assailed him. //Duo, you'd stay out of so much trouble if you just minded your own business from time to time.// "Then I share the responsibility for this with you."
"How so?"
"This would not have happened had I been direct." Looking downward, he pulled his hair back into its tight ponytail.
A hand under his chin forced him to look up at Heero's eyes. "And would you blame Quatre for suggesting we visit Duo?" Heero released him. "The responsibility for my actions rests with me. The rest is circumstantial."
//Circumstantial... // Wufei frowned as he analyzed what Heero was telling him. //We are all guilty of contributing; nothing was inevitable. But he must be allowed to face the consequences of his choice. I cannot shield him from that by taking my share of the blame.// "I believe I understand."
Heero leaned his head back against the headboard of the bed, but his eyes focused on the small Chinese man sitting on the other side of the bed.
Wufei glanced at the clock on the nightstand, then stood and walked around to the other side of the bed. "It's time for your pill," he said, opening the bottle and tapping a pill into the cap. "Here."
Obediently, Heero swallowed the pill. Wufei walked to the closet and pulled out his jacket. "Where are you going?"
"To consider what you have said."
"Thank you," the Japanese said quietly.
Wufei left and closed the door behind him.
***
Duo slowly cracked his eyes open and stretched. They hadn't let him sleep until just before lunch, then they'd woken him up to eat, then they'd woken him up again for more tests, then they'd woken him up for a pill, then he'd woken up for personal reasons, then...
Duo groaned, seeing a shape approach in the relative darkness of his room. "That you, Nurse Betty?" he asked wearily. "What do you have planned for me now?"
"It's Quatre," the familiar voice replied. "May I open the curtains? It's dark in here."
"Sure." Duo blinked as the afternoon sunlight entered the room. His blonde friend looked like his normal self, but something felt off. "How've you been in the past oh, twelve hours?"
Quatre shrugged. "Better. I got some sleep, took care of some business. I called the school to let them know you'd be out for a while."
"You did? Thanks." Duo watched as his friend stared out the window. "Say, Q-man, why don't you pull up a seat? I only bite when provoked."
Quatre moved the cushioned chair from the corner of the room next to the bed and sat down.
"Quatre." The blonde looked up. "What is it?"
"What is what?'
"That look on your face. That tone in your voice. The general sense of lethargy that you've got going for you."
"I don't know what you mean."
Duo rolled his eyes. //I should start carrying a mirror just to show him how obvious it is when he's thinking.// "You're thinking about something that's bothering you. So what is it?"
Quatre looked down at his hands. "I was talking to Wufei this morning," he began, then stopped.
"That's rough. Wu-man before coffee is never a good combination," Duo joked. Quatre smiled slightly. //Duo one, Q-man zero.// "And?"
"He said that Heero has beaten you up before."
Blood drained from Duo's face as his eyes widened. He looked at Quatre, who looked right back at him. "Uh... hmmm... and just what made Wufei share that with you?"
"I asked him. I was concerned about his safety. I don't like my friends getting hurt."
"I see." Duo smiled wanly. "And you're telling me this because you want a blow-by-blow explanation, right?"
Quatre didn't laugh. "That would be nice."
The American's braid fell off the bed, nearly reaching the floor, as Duo turned his head to stare at the ceiling. "What for?" Duo said. "It's over. It's done. And it really isn't relevant now."
"I'd like to judge that for myself."
Quatre's tone was almost icy and his eyes reminded Duo of cold steel; he could begin understand why the blonde was so effective in the business world. "All right, all right, don't get your corporate shark out. I'll tell."
Quatre leaned back in his chair and waited.
Duo sighed. "It was a fluke, really. It was during the war. We were fighting over.. some things.. and I hid his laptop. He beat the crap out of me for it, then flipped out." He looked at Quatre and smirked. "It was a major breakthrough in our relationship."
"...."
"You've been hanging around Trowa too much," Duo grumbled. "Can't a guy make a joke?"
"What do you mean when you say 'flipped out'?"
"Heero's always been wound tighter than a corkscrew. He had a breakdown," Duo said flatly. "He realized what he'd done and he cracked." Duo smiled brightly. "And things were never the same," he said with a dramatic flair, then whispered conspiratorially, "Not many people get to see Heero Yuy, the perfect soldier, lose it."
The Arabian studied Duo with the same intensity he'd used earlier. This time, Duo stared right back. The blue eyes were still clouded.
"Okay, okay," Duo continued bluntly. "You want everything? Heero gets wound up from time to time. He's been wound up ever since I laid eyes on him again, and it was just getting worse. He needed a good talking-to. Wufei wouldn't give it to him, so I did. Shit happens."
"So it does."
Both boys turned to the voice from the doorway. A pale face with brown bangs and a single green eye towered in the doorway, staring at Quatre.
"Trowa! Come in," Duo called cheerily. "You'll have to share the chair with Quatre, although I doubt either of you would complain."
Trowa shook his head. "Apparently, I have some other business to take care of," he said quietly. He turned and left before either of them could say a word.
Quatre broke the short silence after Trowa's departure with a phrase that made Duo's eyes widen. He looked at the Arabian, who was now pale enough to make Duo reach for the call button. "Quatre?"
"He probably overhead us talking. He was very upset about Heero's beating you up last night." Quatre stood and headed for the doorway. "He seemed better this morning—he slept, anyway—but he didn't know that this wasn't the first time. He's angry. I'm going to talk to him before he goes to talk to Heero." Quatre turned to face Duo before exiting. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Sure." Quatre left.
//Well, at least they all know about it now, though this was a hell of a way for them to find out.// Duo pulled his braid up to his chest and played with the loosening strands. //I wonder if they'd let me wash my hair... or at least give me a brush. I hate it when it's this messy.//
"Need a brush?"
Duo looked up at the feminine voice coming from the doorway and swallowed. Blonde hair, blue eyes, bright smile, five-foot-six—she'd gotten taller since he'd seen her last—and wearing jeans and a dress shirt halfway unbuttoned to reveal a form-fitting pink tank top...
"Relena!"
***
Quatre arrived at the house and raced inside and up the stairs to Heero's room and found it empty. "Trowa? Heero? Wufei?" he called.
One of the servants heard him shouting and poked her head out of the master bedroom. "Mr. Winner? Is everything all right?"
"Have you seen any of the guests?" Quatre demanded.
"No, sir. I've been straightening the rooms, but no one is here aside from the staff."
"When did they leave?"
The maid flinched. "I saw Mr. Barton leave a few minutes ago."
"What about Mr. Yuy?" Quatre asked, softening his tone. "Did you see him leave?"
"I haven't seen him, sir. I was given strict orders not to disturb Mr. Yuy."
Quatre leaned back against the wall.
"Sir?"
"It's all right. I'm sorry to have interrupted you." Standing up, he walked to his office, leaving a chain of Arabian curses echoing in the hallway.
*****end part four*****