TIATAAPFE: FOGFAIM

There were soft footsteps in the corridor, and Duo heard someone enter. He sensed that it was not one of the hospital workers, for he didn't smell the lingering smells of other patients and the sanitary smell clinging to them. It had to be a friend.

"Duo?"

He smiled faintly at the hesitant and politely quiet voice, "Hey Quat."

The young blonde Arabian sat down in the chair on the opposite side of her bed. Duo watched him as he turned and eye to the woman, lightly stroking her hand as it lay on the bed cover, tubes protruding from it. "Has she.?"

"Nope. There's been nothing."

"How does the doctor say she's holding up?"

"Haven't seen him in almost three days."

"What?!"

A passing nurse glared in at them dangerously, effectively lowering the Sandrock pilot's voice, "What do you mean, isn't she being treated by the doctors?"

"Nope, she's not getting the treatment. They've all but given up on her."

There was silence, and then.

"Those medically challenged bastards!"

Duo gave a start, looking at his friend. Quatre's eyes were narrowed dangerously, twitching as he looked down on Flame's still form. Normally he never swore! This problem with the lack of medical assistance must really have got to him. Duo accepted it as punishment to him, from Fate, for the way he treated her. He was losing the one person he actually loved.

"We're going to get her doctor in here. Now!" Quatre didn't even bother to lower his voice, nor hide the guttural growl as he leapt up and strode purposely from the room.

Duo would have laughed, a true Shinigami laugh, had it not been the fact that this hell was very real. He heard Quatre's indignant and angry yells, the nurse desperately trying to calm down the pissed Arabian. Only a humorless chuckle escaped him, quickly silenced as he returned to his brooding of the reason.

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The group had murmured quietly amongst each other, talking about random and philosophical subjects. Soon enough though, Duo and Flame turned to teasing each other more than listening.

"Oh, come on! You know you want to!" he giggled, wiggling his fingers in mock tickling position, grinning evilly.

"NO! Don't tickle! Not the FACE!!!!!!" she screamed in mock horror, burying her face in her hands, then clutching Trowa's right leg, hiding her face in it. "Help me! He's. AUGH!!!!!" she broke off into laughter as Duo pounced, pulling her into his lap for better access. She squirmed helplessly, trying to get free.

"You can't help it. Feel the power of my fingers.Give into your laughs.You will - oof!" he exhaled after she elbowed him in the abdomen. He lost his grip on her, so she promptly scampered over to hide by Heero.

"Ha! Get me now Maxwell!" she giggled, using Heero as a human shield, who willingly complied.

Duo pounced after her, slightly deterred by the fact that Heero was the hostage, attempting to get her again. He almost had her, both of them acting like young children at play, when he knocked her off- balance, sending her sailing into Wufei.

"Ai! Sorry about that!" she giggled, tangled up with Wufei on the ground.

"Next time, warn me. That way I can get out of the way."

"O..kay. A little too much. yeah."

"What is it Maxwell? Afraid your onna is."

"She's not my onna! I mean. She's not mine!"

"Could've fooled us."

"Keep out of this Trowa."

"You were very cozy when we interrupted you two earlier, and through the whole night."

"Yeah, it looked like you two were going to -finally- declare your mutual interest in each other."

Flame looked from Heero, to Quatre then Duo. He noticed they all were watching him. He bit his lip nervously, struggling with himself.

On one hand, he had his reputation as the hyper, fun loving God of Death, and the way his friends looked at him. How would they act if he were to admit to liking Flame?

On the other hand, he really did like Flame. He had only just recently come to realize how much he cared for her. Besides, it was more than just the way she would laugh at his jokes when the others groaned, or the way her eyes would stare into his with a glimmer of hope, the way her lips would pucker so gently in her sleep (don't ask how he knew this, he was a normal teenaged male, okay?!), and not even the way that she acted against OZ because of meeting them. It had become apparent to him as he finally kissed her. And now, looking into the big doe eyes she shot at him, begging him to tell the truth, he was having the hardest time admitting it.

"Oh, come off it! It's purely done in good fun. We all need a woman when the need arises." Oh God it hurt to say that, especially about her.

But what hurt more was the injured and hateful expression in her eyes.

"You. bastard."

He was taken aback, but had to defend himself somehow, "Hey, don't hate the player, hate the game." Oh great, he was using old 21st century expressions. What crap.

"Enlighten me as to what the game is and why the 'player' is playing it."

"The Exposure Game."

"What the hell is the Exposure Game?"

"Simple. Everyone here, minus you, is well known in the communities for our exposure, for example, we are Gundam Pilots and wreak havoc, generally. You, on the other hand, hide behind your mysterious , double agent façade. Nobody other than us and OZ know about you. You don't have the guts to pull, say, a huge public explosion where hundreds of military officers are stationed, and, get this, leave witnesses *alive*, other than yourself!"

She narrowed her eyes dangerously, getting herself untangled from Wufei. "Is that a challenge?"

"Go on Flame."

"I think I will." She spat out, turning on her heel and stalking for the woods.

She stopped when she was almost there. "And to think," she said, voice trembling in rage, "That I loved you. I thought you loved me. I was wrong."

With that, she spat at him, and was gone.

Duo had never felt this shitty before.

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So, that was why she did it. Why all those people died.

Duo hung his head, holding her hand in his. He held it against his cheek, tears springing to his eyes once again. He could feel her burns and cuts even rougher than when he just held her hands. They hurt so bad.

He knew that he couldn't take it back, nor could he remove the feelings of guilt. Only when she awoke could he begin to undo the horrific damage he had done. She didn't deserve this. He deserved to have been on the streets below, waiting for her when it blew. He should have been crushed to death by falling debris, or at least burned to death in the flames.

But that wasn't so. He was fine and alive. She was hanging on by the thinnest of threads. Not even the doctors would waste their time with such a helpless case. Unless Quatre managed to strike enough fear into them, that was.

He was plagued, as he had been everyday since it happened, with feelings of guilt, for an innocent mind.

*~*~*OWARI