Note: Now the fic is turning a little bit angsty…not that that surprises me, I have a thing for that type of stuff. Anyway, it's basically Duo angst. He needs a hug! Maybe Quatre will give him one? Read and see! ^ ^

When they arrived back at Duo's trailer the brunette flopped down on the couch and sighed, placing one arm behind his head and allowing the other to dangle from off. "That was a great party, don't you agree?" he asked casually. "And you even found yourself a girl. Damn I'm good!" He stretched out and rolled over on his side to face his friend, who was still standing in the corridor.

Quatre forced a grin and nodded. "Yeah, a girl…" he replied, looking down at the floor. Something didn't feel right. "I'm all dirty…and I probably stink…so I think I'll go take a shower, is that alright?" He looked back up at Duo to see him scrutinizing him. "Duo?"

The American sighed in exasperation and sat up. "Man, you still aren't happy! What the hell is the matter with you?!" he exclaimed. "You met a nice girl and got her number, you obviously like her, so what is wrong?" Quatre shook his head and looked back down at the floor. "You go take a shower and get cleaned up. I'll take one next." He sat there, his elbows resting on his knees, studying the TV set or something beyond it, as if he was trying to find a clue.

"Y-yeah…I'll go…" Quatre said to no one in particular, his voice so quiet it was virtually impossible for Duo to hear him. He then turned and walked down to the tiny bathroom and opened the door, peaking his head in. It looked like a normal bathroom, just smaller. He sighed in relief and went down to his room to get a clean pair of boxers and a large t-shirt (the only one he owned) to change into after his shower.

Sighing he slipped out of his sweaty clothes and stepped into the warm water, letting it run over his body. He could feel his muscles relax as he tilted his head back and let the droplets wet his hair. Running his fingers through his now wet locks he closed his eyes, letting his thoughts wander. The night had been fun, he'd enjoyed himself. Dancing and beer were better than he had originally thought. This brought a smile to his lips and he chuckled slightly. The perfect, clean Winner boy had drank beer and partied with a girl. If he told his sisters they'd regret ever talking him into taking a vacation. The smile disappeared when he realized that he still wasn't happy. Now that the music was gone and the rush of adrenaline no longer existed, he suddenly felt very lonely, the same as before.

'I'm just too moody,' he thought in disgust as he began to run the washcloth along his body, cleaning the sweat off of his skin. 'Well, at least I'm clean.' He rinsed the remaining soap off of the washcloth and squeezed it before hanging it on the inside of the shower door. After turning the water off he rested against the cold, wet tiles, on arm behind his head. 'Am I really lonely…?' He sighed again and shook his head. 'I think too much.' Then he moved to open the door and grab a towel. After drying off he got into his boxers and t-shirt, running a comb quickly through his wet hair.

When he came out of the bathroom he looked around for Duo, finally finding him in his room. He was wearing his headphones and the music was so loud that Quatre could hear it from the doorway. This made him grimace. It was a wonder his friend wasn't completely deaf. The lyrics finally caught his ears and his eyes widened. "A constant wave of tension, on top of broken trust. The lessons that you taught me, I learned were never true…Now I find myself in question-they point the finger at me again. Guilty by association-they point the finger at me again…" Duo sat on his bed, his eyes staring forward at the tiny window, unmoving. In the indigo depths Quatre suddenly found an overwhelming sadness, something he had never sensed before. Slowly he walked over to his braided friend and put a hand on his shoulder lightly. The pilot looked up at him and took off the headphones, turning off the music at the same time.

That typical grin demolished any presence of that look that put weight on Quatre's heart. "Done already, Q-man?" he asked and got up, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. "That's good cuz I'm ready for bed!" He grinned again and moved towards the door, picking up his towel along the way and swinging it over his shoulder. "See ya' when I'm clean!" he exclaimed and then he was gone.

The blonde pilot watched him leave and then looked around the room. A crinkled carton of cigarettes was lying on his bedside table, which was also covered by assorted papers, balled up tissues, paper plates with crumbs still on them, and a faded picture of Hilde. His eyes moved to the floor which was littered with dirty clothes and crushed beer cans. The trash can was hardly used. 'Over Hilde…I don't think so, Duo…' Quatre thought sadly, his eyes landing on the picture of Hilde and then the carton of cigarettes. 'Beer…cigarettes…you keep trying to hide from yourself…'

He shook his head and left the room, walking back out into the living area and sitting down on the couch. As he stared blankly at the TV, his chin cupped in his hand, tears began to fill his eyes. 'You complain about me not being happy…' he scolded as he held the tears back, 'while you yourself are far from that. Maybe you think that if you can make me happy…your pain will go away… Stupid Duo…you're so stupid…' His heart ached for his friend as he tried to blink the stubborn tears away. 'Looks like we're both unhappy fools who have no clue what we want or how to get it…'

Holding his head in his hands he tried to control the tears, his breath coming out heavier. Suddenly a sound came from the shower and a sad grin crossed Quatre's face. 'At least you hide yours better…you try to be happy…' he thought as he began to hear Duo belting "Rubber Ducky" at the top of his lungs.

Quatre was in the same position when he heard the water being turned off and, a minute or so later, the door opening. The next thing he knew Duo was standing in the wide doorway in nothing but a towel, his hand on one hip. He looked up and then looked away at the sight, blush forming on his cheeks. "What are you doing in here? The TV's not even on…" Duo admonished playfully and walked over to turn it on for him.

"You're not happy either, Duo," Quatre stated and then gasped, his eyes widening at his own courage. His friend froze, the remote in his hand, and stared at him in surprise. "I saw it…in your room… the picture of Hilde…and the cigarettes…and the beer…I know, Duo. You're not okay with it…there were tissues too…you've been crying…" He sniffed and realized that tears were coming down his own cheeks. He wiped them away in embarrassment and looked down at the floor. "You've been…crying…Duo…" His heart felt very heavy in his chest as he glanced up to see Duo still staring at him, the remote still in his hand, useless.

Duo's heart was racing as he stared at his empathic friend. He could feel the remote in his hand, it seemed unusually heavy and his hand was tired just holding it. "Q-Quatre…" He looked away and then down at the remote, studying to buttons. 'He knows…he was the last person I wanted to know…' His eyes were beginning to sting with tears but he fought them back angrily.

The Arabian Prince stood and walked over, taking the remote out of Duo's hand and setting it on the couch. Then he took his shoulders and looked into his eyes. "When I saw you listening to your music… you seemed so alone…" he continued, "just you and your hateful, depressive lyrics that pumped more sadness into your brain…dragging you down deeper and deeper… At first I was afraid to interrupt, to break you out of it…maybe I was afraid I wouldn't be able too…I'm sorry I didn't see it earlier…"

His kind words made a lump form in Duo's throat, but he swallowed around it and turned his head away so he wouldn't have to look in his friend's compassionate blue eyes. There was something captivating about them that made it so he couldn't pull away. 'Not now, Quatre…please not now…' he thought in frustration as he pulled away from his touch coldly. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, his tone icy cold. Quatre looked at him, his expression showing his hurt, but he turned away and ignored it, moving towards his room. "Good night."

He heard the American pilot slam his door and he cringed. "I'm sorry…Duo…I should never have brought it up…" he whispered in despair as he slowly made it to Hilde's room. After he closed the door he looked at the bed warily. Suddenly the room felt small and suffocating, like he shouldn't be there. He ignored it and moved over to it, slipping under the covers and turning off the light.

After an hour he realized he couldn't sleep and stood, moving out into the living area, stretching out on the couch. He rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes, finally able to slip down into the dark realms of sleep.

To Be Continued…