Duo sat on the stool in his new apartment. It wasn't really his and it wasn't really an apartment but still…. The previous occupants had just left, rather suddenly he heard. They were kind enough to have left their furniture—this barstool, an old mattress, a couple of small tables and one leather footstool. The place was a two-room shack just over the dunes from the ocean. The roof leaked and the foundation was starting to crumble on the south side of the house. He was shack 4 of a whole street full of poorly funded housing projects. But still, it was a roof over his head and was close enough to civilization that he could keep in touch with Howard. Duo sighed, at that thought. Howard was keeping his Gundam for the time being. After all the care and pains he took to make sure that it came with him, he had to leave it with Howard. No, he chose to. Howard had asked him to stay. But Duo just couldn't accept the offer.
Duo rubbed his tired eyes. It was the middle of the night and, as usual, he couldn't sleep. Duo had always been a night owl, but this was different. He hadn't had a good night's rest for over a month now. This past week had been especially bad though. It was as if his eyelids only had to close and the movie of his stupid fight would start playing. He rubbed his eyes and wished for… well, he couldn't think of anything to wish for, so he got up and started pacing. The memory was fresh in his mind—the late night, the only sound in their shared room was the religious tap of fingers against a keyboard. Lying there, Duo couldn't help but look towards that desk, that laptop, that figure. He just couldn't stand it anymore.
"Just what is so important that is can't wait until morning?"
The constant stream of keyboarding was his only answer.
"It's, uh… holy cow! It's two in the morning! Heero, c'mon, turn that stupid thing off and let's get some sleep. Heero!"
Silence. Duo felt Heero's eyes on him—it was strange but Heero's glare of death could actually be *felt*. After a moment, the keyboarding continued. Duo closed his eyes, he could feel himself growing angry. Heero had been doing this night after night after night. He stayed up ungodly late, keeping Duo up in the process. Duo was almost never tired enough to sleep through the light and sound of Heero's laptop. Granted, it wasn't much distraction, but it still did its annoying job. With each click and clatter he could feel the time bomb ticking away inside his brain. Duo didn't even try to diffuse it. He threw off his covers and jumped out of bed. The room had a slight chill to it, making him shiver. Silently, he wished that he had worn more than just his boxers to bed. Duo stood to the right of Heero. "Hey, I'm talking to you. The least you could do is answer!"
The click of the keys continued.
"Damnit Heero, talk to me, what the hell is wrong with you?"
Still nothing.
In an act of complete frustration Duo slammed the laptop shut, hitting Heero's fingers in the process. Duo once again felt Heero's eyes boring holes into his skull. But instead of getting any other reaction, Heero simply re-opened his laptop and logged back on. Duo stared in a moment of amazement before he recalled his anger. "Y'know what Heero? I'm tired of all this silence. Of your damn cold shoulder. The way you act all the time… Damn it Heero! I'm tired of you!" By the end he was practically shouting—still hoping to get some reaction out of Heero.
Even now Duo blushed. He had gotten too angry—he had lost his temper. That sort of thing just didn't happen to him. But still, that was no excuse for Heero…
"Why should I talk to you?"
Duo stared, "Because, it's me. Duo. The guy who cares about you, the guy who loves you."
Damn, that wasn't supposed to slip out, Duo thought, I should've just calmed down…
Now it was Heero's turn to stare. "Maybe that's a good reason why I'm not talking to you. Love is a weak emotion, we can't afford to be weak."
"Heero, the war is over. We don't have to carry the world on our shoulders any more."
"The aftermath is just starting. We have to be prepared."
"Heero…"
There was that same helpless feeling running through the pit of his stomach.
"There is no place for love here."
Duo had left the room after that, instead going downstairs to sit in the darkness of the den. He wrapped himself in a blanket pilfered from the hall closet and sat in the overstuffed armchair. He could watch the sky turn from midnight to twilight. He dozed off sometime during his vigil and awoke to traces of pink smearing the sky, betraying the fact that morning was near. Duo got up and tiptoed up the stairs, carefully missing the creaky floorboards. He peeked in his room. Thankfully, Heero was asleep; he didn't want to face him again. Duo went to his side of the room and picked up his clothes from the floor. He got dressed downstairs, and putting the keys to one of the transports in his pocket, he left. Rash. Impulsive. Stupid. Necessary.
Duo could not be so near to that elusive feeling. Love. What had he thinking. This mess was his fault. Not all of it, but a good chunk. He pushed all of the "if only"s and "what if"s out of his head. Damn, but he missed Heero. ************************************************************
Trowa steadily searched the network databases. He could feel Quatre's breath tickling his cheek. The young blonde had been standing there, peering over Trowa shoulder for almost an hour now. He was determined to find out where Duo had gone. Trowa had only shrugged at Quatre's plea for help, gone to his computer and started searching. If only we could have gotten Heero's help with this, he'd have found it in no time, thought the brown-haired boy scowling at the computer screen. But Heero still did not acknowledge that he wanted Duo back. And so Quatre could not ask him, and had come to Trowa instead. Trowa still believed that Duo was fine out there, and that he didn't want to be found. If he had, he would have made it easier to trace him. But Quatre was still so worried…. Did he know something about it? Something that he wasn't telling him? Trowa sighed and re-focused his eyes on the computer screen.
"Is everything alright?" Quatre asked him without ever taking his eyes off the screen.
"Hmmm? Oh. Yeah, everything's fine." Then he saw it. At first he did not know why this was it—but instinctively he knew. Then it dawned on him—the passenger boarding/departing lists were off. One less person got off at the transport's final destination. There weren't any other stops along the way, and the flight data showed that it took off again as soon as it was refueled. The plane's last, although unofficial stop was on America's West Coast. Trowa slowly licked his lips, looking over the data once more before he spoke. "Quatre, I've found him," he said as he highlighted the information on the screen.
Quatre hugged him around the neck so fiercely that Trowa thought he might actually choke. The blonde loosened his death grip, "Thank you Trowa," he said, his eyes shining with something besides hope.
Trowa left Quatre there, the young boy was now in his element—playing with the vectors and maps, contacting anyone who might know of Duo's whereabouts in America, and doing whatever he could to learn exactly where Duo had gone. But as Trowa walked through the doorway, he couldn't help but wonder if they had done the right thing.
******************************************************
Quatre silently slid a piece of paper towards Heero as the boy sat at the kitchen table the next morning.
Heero glanced at it. "Quatre what is this?"
"It's Duo's address."
Heero read it again—44 Kings Court, Santa Monica, California. "Why are you giving this to me?"
"So you can go there and bring him back." The blonde was completely matter-of-fact.
"Quatre, I'm not going. He doesn't want to come back."
"You don't know that!"
"You don't know that he does."
For a moment the boys just stared at each other. Finally Quatre spoke.
"I don't know why he left. But he wants to come home, I just know that he does."
"Quatre—"
"No Heero," said Quatre, blatantly cutting him off. "Listen to me, I miss him. So does Trowa and Wufei. But he didn't leave because of us, and he wouldn't come back home if we went to get him. There is no reason why you can't go—we can take care of anything that could come up. But it's your choice. I know that you'll make the right one." Quatre gave Heero one last long look, before getting up and leaving the room.
Heero shook his head before crumpling the piece of paper and throwing it in the trash.