Title: Crossroads: Don't Speak (Part Two)
Series: Gundam Wing
Pairings: 1+3, 3+4+3, various others
Category: Angst, Heero's POV, songfic
Warnings: Shounen-ai
Disclaimer: The song "Don't Speak" is owned by No Doubt. I don't own GW and its characters.
Author's Notes: I haven't the slightest plan as to how the story should go. Rather, I'm letting the characters direct me to where this is leading to. So another songfic wasn't planned, but I must say that I like this part better than without.

I like to portray Duo as a nice and cheerful friend, who always looks out for his friends and pop up when most needed, so please don't attach any meaning to whatever he does in the fic ^_^ Also, I must state clearly that this is no Quatre-bashing fic, that I love him as much as I love the rest. It just so happens that he gets mixed in the story's conflicts.

// --lyrics-- \\

"Crossroads: Don't Speak"
by: Fall

Part Two

// You and me
We used to be together
Every day together always \\
One hellish month has passed.

Four weeks since I had silently withdrawn my connections with Trowa.

One week since I've decided to break up with him silently.

I decided to slip away altogether without his notice, giving him the chance to call off our relationship first, at least vocally. I assumed that he was only waiting for a suitable time to break the news to me gently.

Hah. Gently.

What does he think I am, some porcelain doll that easily shatters with rough handling?

I was never one to handle emotions skillfully. I haven't the idea how I'm supposed to act, let alone distinguish what emotions are at work in me. I'm doing everything as how I learned to handle a couple of things from Dr. J.

Damn the old man, he should've taught me a few things or two besides practicality and coldness.

I wonder if I'm doing the right thing.

Heck, maybe I am, and maybe I'm not. Nothing could have prepared me for this, and so it's not my fault that I'm rather at a lost with the situation. This is the only way I could think of, and contrary to what others say, I *do* think that I'm getting on quite good.

Though cutting off with Trowa had been easy on the surface, it was hard on the inside.

For the past days, I've never shared a room with him for more than a fraction of a minute. As often as possible, I made sure that we'll never cross paths with each other. I only spoke to him when needed, and that is unmistakably done with perfect reserve. The perfect soldier way.

I think he never got the message.

----------
// I really feel
I'm losing my best friend
I can't believe
This could be the end \\

Our latest meeting was the summit that at last sealed the promise I've made to myself.

It was lunch, and I was eating alone. Or at least, for the past five minutes, for Duo Maxwell had belligerently announced that whether I like it or not, he shall conquer half of my table. I just glared at him. For some reason, I just let him do what he wants to with me, as long as it wasn't the word, "Hee-chan". Don't ask.

By the time I was nearly through with my food, everyone from Une to Wufei had already joined us. Only the *two* are missing from the usual group. Maybe they're eating together in the grass or something. A bitter smile threatened to show itself.

"May we join you?"

Damn. Since when did my intuitions proved wrong? I didn't have to look up to know that the voice belonged to Trowa. But I did.

To my utter consternation, I found myself locking in an eye contact with him, studying the brilliant eyes that often haunted me. He might have addressed everyone, but he can't fool me. That line was for me, and it was equivalent to asking me if *they* could join *me*.

Our gaze was broken by Duo, coughing before he spoke, "Sure, Tro-man. We'd love to have you here," with rather a half-smile, half-confusion that wasn't him.

"Uh, you too, Q-man," He added as if it were an afterthought.

Then violet eyes darted me a flash of apology. Does Maxwell know that *I* know?

Those weren't the only pair of eyes that eyed me warily when Trowa slid into the seat next to me. Dammit! I thought, feeling hot and uncomfortable all of a sudden. Hot because of the awareness that he was just within my reach. Uncomfortable because in spite of my hatred for him, I still lusted after him.

I may hate Trowa, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm *still* madly in-love with him, that I *still* find myself mentally undressing him at the sight of his gorgeous physique, that I dream of him moving inside of me. Others will think it madness, but I think it's just the matter of courage in admitting it.

Let's face it: I *still* love Trowa Barton.

And I miss him.

But pride must be retained. I cannot just let him do this to me and not pay for what he did. He just can't come and go and leave me like a fool. Hell, I am actually making this easier on him. He ought to thank me for leaving on my own, and letting others think that we broke up simply because we want to.

That way he'll be free to take up with his damned ex and go fuck with him to the extreme, devil may care.

Anger overpowering my desires, I decided to stay and show him that I didn't even notice him.

It was the longest meal of my entire existence in the Preventer's.

-----------

// It looks as though you're letting go
And if it's real,
Well I don't want to know \\

I stood up. It was no use to stay in such a hated situation when I could go and delve myself into something more productive. I was about to go, when a hand stopped me.

"Could we talk?" Knowing Trowa, he doesn't like to show where he was most vulnerable and covered up all his weaknesses with his mask. This time, he not only let it fall before me, but before the whole of the family.

I quite found myself admiring him for that.

"Whatever suits you," was my cold answer. It may be cold and unfeeling, but I think it was the next best thing to saying, "No." Though Maxwell would later quip that if it were him, he would have received rejection better than hear me consent with an uncaring disposition. To which remark I only told him to, "Shut up."

"Then we *shall* talk." He rose and released my arm. "Follow me."

With a detached air, I followed him, a great distance separating us. Nobody uttered a sound when we left the table. And it seems that everyone has suddenly lost their earlier gaiety. I took one look at Quatre, and noticed that his eyes were quite red. Either from crying or lack of sleep.

I almost snorted with disgust. *Either* being unable to sleep because of a prolonged tryst in bed, or crying from extreme ecstasy.

Trowa halted before Une's office and produced a key.

"Une had been generous." I told him.

"She is."

"I suppose she gave you the key herself."

"She did."

Damn Une. So this was her idea in the first place. I should've known. Trowa wouldn't have asked her for her help.

He entered the room first.

And I had the feeling that things will get worse inside that room.

But there's no turning back.

// Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts \\

"What do you want?" I asked him, as I locked the door. Something like dread seeped itself through my veins, as I turned to face Trowa again.

Since when did I learn to feel dread?

"I want to know exactly why you are shutting me out of your life completely."

That was a direct question that lured me to a display of contempt. *Shutting out* was a rather light word to refer to our silent "break-up". Shit Trowa, quit playing the game with me.

A thousand curses would have been much better than what I said next. Actually, my first impulse was to grab his head and pin him by the wall, while I plunder through the sweetness that Quatre had taken for himself. My tongue had won the conquest when I felt his own invasion. His hands were entangled with my hair, eliciting moans from me. We rocked our hips together and when I felt his arousal brushing with mine, I thought I'd die. God, Trowa, you don't know how much I want you.

That snapped me back to reality. Yes, that was only some illusion, some daydream that plagues me night and day. If I wasn't forced back to reality by the image of them kissing, that one morning, emotions would have won over pure hatred. Fresh anger surged through me, though it was more for myself, than for him.

I found some vent in saying coldly, "You tired of Quatre quite easily."

He paled. No wonder, for I said it in the tone that I reserved for saying, "Omae o korosu." It was the tone that sends chills to a person's heart.

Though his stoic mask was very much in place, I saw the pangs of pain that my words, if not, my tone, had caused him to feel.

"I see," He matched my icy tone. And that, though I admit I deserved that, made my anger spark once again, and kindled into flames.

Damn you Trowa! Dammit, dammit, dammit!

I wanted to yell all that. I longed to show him how much rage I felt for his ditching me without notice. I wanted to yell at him all the pain he'd caused me. Yet no words came.

We just stood there, avoiding anymore eye contact, drowning in silence.

He just couldn't get it, could he?

// Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts \\

At length, he broke the deafening silence.

"Heero," he began, turning to look at me. His emerald eyes reflected the pain I felt. But that will never make me relent. For all I care, he might be faking it.

"Heero, I'm sorry."

Oh yeah, sure. He's sorry. That's equivalent to admitting that he did leave me for that blond boy. It took all the training I've had to restrain myself from being anything but stoic. Heck, it's *bad* enough to know that your boyfriend cheats behind your back — with a friend of all people — not that I'd be thrilled to see him cheating with other people. It's just that, after all this, *all* he tells you is, "I'm sorry."?!

I remained silent, staring stonily at him.

I hate you, Trowa.

// Our memories
They can be inviting
But some are altogether
Mighty frightening \\

"Tonight, I'm moving out of our room," He addressed me quietly. "You can have it."

Yeah, and render me sleepless for as long as I live. Don't be naive, Trowa. Even you could not stand to stay in a room wherein its four corners reminds you of us.

"I have my own room." I said coldly. Hell, what makes him think I'll want to stay there?

I can't stand the piercing feeling that drills into me. The kind that was caused by memories of him. I have to get out of here.

"I'm getting back to work."

// As we die, both you and I
With my head in my hands
I sit and cry \\

Composed on the outside, yet shattered on the opposite. That was what I was when I gave him the look that carried the silent meaning, "I know it's over now and I accept it."

Without waiting for an answer, I headed for the door. I was afraid I'd break down in front of him, which was the last thing I'll do even if it takes the life out of me.

// It's all ending
I gotta stop pretending who we are...
You and me
I can see us dying ... are we? \\

My hand was on the verge of turning the knob, when his next words struck me to the deepest degree.

"Quatre never replaced you," he said softly, lacing his words with a slight tremble.

Damn you and your crap, Trowa.

For the first time, I felt glad I was capable of looking the opposite from what I truly feel. Rage was taking its toll inside. My eyes flashed with hatred when I faced him for the last time. "I never had a place with you."

That, and I left him shell-shocked on the spot, looking pale as his lips pursed unconsciously.

Blindly, I sought the refuge of my office. When I was certain that I was alone and the door was locked, I sank into my chair weakly, and cradled my head in my hands.

And to my utmost astonishment, I cried.

- End Part Two

TBC