Standard Disclaimer:  Not mine, no matter how hard I try.  Wait!  Maybe if I . . . *maniacal laughter* . . . ahem . . . Excuse me while I go plot.

Warnings:  Shonen ai, some sap but mostly angst

A/N:  Gomen nasai!  I've been so busy with school and stuff; I'll try to get better about putting chapters out.  Thanks again to all the readers!  I love you guys.  Oh!  And I think that you'll find things are starting to get more interesting.

/blah/= thoughts

Renaissance

By skyprincess

Chapter 14:

            /What an invigorating shopping trip!/  The elevator dinged loudly, signaling the blonde's exit.  /I can't believe I lost track of time like that.  I shouldn't have spent four hours in the mall./  He deftly balanced his bags against his slender hip as he fished through his pocket for his key.  /I hope Duo's feeling better.  He was so mopey this morning./  Quatre victoriously extracted the renegade key and opened the door.  "Duo!  I'm back!"

            His only response was his own greeting echoing down the long corridor.  "Duo?"  Still no response.  Worried, he hurried into the living room.  The Arab set the bags next to the sofa while calling our, "He!  I bought Smackdown II.  Wanna beat me up for awhile? . . You can be the Rock."  Quatre was surprised that the boisterous pilot hadn't exploded into the room to play.  /Duo loves wrestling games.  I wonder if he's feeling well . . ./  But before he could finish the thought, Quatre was struck with sudden and tremendous grief.  The sorrow tore through him, laden with insatiable need.  "Oh God!  Duo!"  He raced to Duo's room and burst through the door.

            Quatre heard Duo before he saw him.  Barely audible mutterings floated through the air of the darkened room, "Never . . . I could never . . . too good . . . too precious . . . not mine . . . never . . . could . . . be . . ."

            The blonde pilot scanned the room for the owner of the heartbreaking sounds.  His eyes finally fell upon a tiny, shuddering form.  Half hidden by shadows, the boy's knees were pulled up tightly and he cradled his face in his arms.  His normally immaculate braid laid in a disheveled mess on the floor.  Several long russet strands had come loose in front, washing over the hunched shoulders and polling at his feet.  He slowly rocked back and forth mumbling to himself and shuddering with every breath.

            Not even his uchuu no koroko could have prepared Quatre for the emotions evoked by this pathetic form of his dear friend.  Although still in shock, he willed his legs to move and quickly made his way across the room to the shrunken figure.  Lowering himself to the floor, he wrapped comforting arms around his trembling friend.

            Duo looked up in surprise.  Tears streaked the usually smiling face and confusion filled the amethyst eyes.  Quatre had never seen the deathscythe pilot cry before, and found the sight very disconcerting.  The normally flowing lacks were matted to the pale face in sweat and tears.  Quatre smoothed the dampened strands away from his friend's face.

            The violet eyes fluttered slightly as Duo reveled in the delicate touches.  /But I can't!/  Against his will, he backed away from the angelic pilot.  Immediately he registered the hurt in Quatre's large expressive eyes.

            /Why did he push away?  Why won't he let me help him?/  Quatre sat wondering in silence.

            "I'm sorry Quatre," the husky voice came out as little more then a choked sob.

            "Well, that's fine and good, but I want to help you.  And I can't if you keep pushing me away."

            "I . . . I know . . . But I don't know if I can talk about it . . . if I'm ready to talk about it."

            "Please try, Duo.  I want to help."

            The longhaired boy looked into the pleading eyes.  The blue-green orbs were remarkably warm.  Quatre's cupid's bow was set in a straight line and the tiny chin jutted forward in determination.  The golden locks beamed around his head like a halo.  Duo cried out weakly in defeat.  He had the innate need to give the smaller pilot anything he wanted. 

            Slowly, he reached out, shaking, and lightly grasped Quatre's ivory hands.  He took a deep breath and ran his thumbs over the soft knuckles, surprised and relieved by the small calluses on the palms.  The rough patched, small as they were, somehow made the little angel seem more human. 

            Without looking up, or meeting Quatre's gaze he began, "Please give me a chance to get this all out because if I stop . . . I don't think I'll be able to finish.  Earlier today, you asked how I dropped the weights on my chest . . . well, it's because of you.  I mean, it's not your fault, in fact, you didn't do anything except be yourself . . . your wonderful, beautiful self."

            Quatre cocked his head to the side slightly, eyes full of concern and curiosity.

            After a short pause, Duo's words streamed out in a rapid torrent, " I know I must be rambling, but please bare with me.  This isn't easy.  I love you, Quatre."

            The aquamarine eyes widened with shock.  Duo winced, feeling Quatre's surprise, but he hesitantly continued, "I think that I always have, but I've been afraid to admit it.  You always had Trowa and I didn't want to interfere.  And then there was that "thing" with Hilde and me, but really, she's more like a little sister than anything.  And as I was lifting weights today . . . my thoughts roamed . . . and I kinda listened to this song and it reminded me of you . . . and I got to thinking about how much I really care about you . . . and it just hit me.  This epiphany took me a little off guard and I ended up with a bunch of weights on top of me.  That's all.  Quatre, you are my first thought when I wake every morning and my last before I fall asleep at night.  From the moment I help you, crying in my arms, I knew that I needed to protect you . . . to be by your side forever." 

            He finally looked up into Quatre's bewildered yet gentle face, and involuntarily reached up to gently stroke a soft rosy cheek, "Quatre you are so beautiful.  I could simply gaze at your lovely face for the rest of eternity.  Your laughter and sweet voice bring a smile to my heart.  You are one of the few people in this world who have taken the time to look past all of the facades, tear down all of the walls, reach deep into the darkness of my heart to pull out all that is bright and good within me.  Your absolute and unfaltering kindness stirs a part of my soul that I didn't know exists."  The hyacinth eyes once again began to well with tears, "And I know that I don't deserve you . . . You hate it, but you really are like the holiest of angels.  And what am I?  No more than a fallen angel, a slave of Shinigami.  You are so pure and I'm so . . . tainted.  My hands are stained with blood full of malice and vengeance.  Two hateful emotions that have probably never crossed your heart."  The braided head dropped again and its owner's voice cracked with sorrow, "I know that I'm not worthy of your love, but please allow me, pathetic as I am, to love you."

            Quatre sat in disbelief.  /This can't be happening . . . This can't be happening./ chanted like a mantra in his head.  He opened and shut his mouth several times as if searching for the words he needed.  /NO!  Please don't say these things.  You're my best friend.  I . . . and Trowa . . . I don't want to lose you!  What do I do? /

            The blonde Arabian sat nervously fidgeting for a few minutes.  Then, his eyes fell on the damp sallow cheeks, the matted hair, the red swollen eyes, and he became racked with guilt.  "Duo . . . You're my best friend . . . I can't . . ."

            The braided pilot exhaled loudly, interrupting his friend's stammering, "That's just about the response I expected.  You know me well enough that you shouldn't feel obligated to say or do anything."  He slowly pushed to a standing position.  "I promised I'd watch out for you and I will, but I need to go now."    

            Azure eyes watched him walk to the door.  /He looks so dazed, like a zombie.  I've got to say something./  His mind fumbled for something to say as he watched the retreating figure.

            /My best friend just walked out on me and I couldn't think of anything to stop him.  He admitted his love for me and I cant' return it.  He asked nothing of me and I was actually relieved.  What kind of person am I?/  Tears pricked the bright blue-green eyes and a dull scratching ache formed a lump in the slender throat.  Duo's absolute acceptance and melancholy still radiated through his being.  He trembled with guilt and empathy.  /I know refection.  I know the pain of your loved one casting you aside . . . the bland stares cutting though you like a thousand knives.  I know how much it hurts and I just did it to my best friend.  What had happened to me?  What have Trowa and I become?/

TBC . . .