As You Are
By Merith
Pairings: 2x4x2
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, Shonen Ai, yaoi, language, angst, hints of NCS
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, its characters or its story line. But I do enjoy writing about them!
A/N: Inspired by two separate conversations, this story became a challenge of sorts. Could I as an author, write a believable story with a pairing I didn't believe would work? Thanks to Arithion, CYT and Saro for letting me bounce scenes off them.
To: Arithion, who believes, and to Saro, who could believe.
Part II: As you were
For the next few minutes, I studiously avoided distractive thinking, and made some progress into the required chapter. At one point, Duo announced he was headed down the hall to the vending machine for cokes; when he returned, he handed me a Crush with a self-conscious smile. I hadn't responded when he asked for requests and hadn't expected him to bring me anything, let alone a drink that brought back strong memories.
"I thought you could use something," Duo said, shrugging in that casual way he had.
"Thank you," I offered automatically.
He opened his drink, and perched on the edge of my desk, glancing at my notes. "How's it going? Need any help?"
Fussing with the soda can, I delayed in answering him. "I don't think there's anything you can do. It's just taking down information from the chapter and trying to commit dates and events to memory." I kept my eyes on the desk, fidgeting with my papers.
Duo hesitated a moment, his hand reached for mine but he drew it back instead. I heard him inhale sharply and I raised my gaze to meet his. His eyes were troubled, and he opened his mouth to say something only to close it and give a small shake of his head.
"Want to play a hand?" Victor called over. We both turned to see my roommate holding up a deck of cards in one hand and a pad and pencil in the other. I flashed him a grateful smile and he sent me an acknowledging wink.
Already headed across the room, Duo blustered, "Just wait, buddy, I'm going to skin you alive. You might have won the last time we played but your luck has just run out."
It was funny how even though he and I had split nearly two months before, Duo and Victor could pick up their friendly interactions as though nothing had happened. I wasn't sure if my roommate would have ever been Duo's friend if I hadn't been dating him; they didn't share any classes, and only met in the dorm commons in passing. But they both were alike in so many ways; they loved the same kinds of movies and had a mean competitive streak where games were concerned. There had been a time I wondered if Duo came to see Victor as much as he came to see me.
Turning my attention back to the never ending chapter, I sipped from my can and enjoyed the sweet strawberry taste. It had been awhile since I drank a Crush; the last had been one of the few times we'd had fun together without fighting or hurting each other, just days before our break-up. It had been a warm day in late February, and we sat on the campus square retaining wall killing time after playing a game of basketball, watching the other students. Duo kept leaning over to kiss me, a little more frequently than he would normally in public, until I caught on - he was kissing me after I'd take a drink of my soda. He laughed and said he liked the taste of it on me.
'Idiot!' I chastised myself, and set the Crush can on the far side of the desk. I turned back to my notes, and tried to block out thoughts of him. Quelling my remembrances was becoming harder. For every beautiful memory, every happy time we'd had together, there was an equally ugly and unpleasant one. Basic law of science, for every positive action there is an equally negative reaction. Our relationship proved this theory nearly every day for six months.
I don't even remember exactly when things started to change, but I do remember the first time I thought I'd made a mistake in becoming involved with him. I spent almost three weeks, of the four weeks we had for winter break, vacationing with my family on the beaches of Cancun. I had invited Duo to come with me, begged him in fact, but he turned me down almost venomously. While I was there, I moped around half miserable and missing Duo terribly. I wanted nothing more but to return and be with him. So, I did.
Arriving late New Year's Eve night, I went straight to my room, planning to surprise Duo in the morning. The next day, I discovered there was a lot more to my boyfriend than I'd ever thought possible. I had used his spare key and crept across the dark room to his bed. Pulling the blankets back, I had been about to give him a proper welcome only to find two heads snuggled together. Stunned, I reeled back and tripped over something lying on the floor, landing hard on my butt.
The woman sleeping next to Duo opened her eyes, blinking blearily at me. She yawned and sat up, sliding out from under his arm. "Who 'er you?" she slurred out.
For some reason my head couldn't think, and I realized I had been doing a fish imitation, my mouth working with nothing coming out. "Quatre," I finally managed.
She yawned wide-mouthed and stretched her arms above her head, the long loose sleeves of her shirt sliding down to bunch at her shoulders. Appearing a little more aware, she looked around the room and snorted. "Damn. Didn't mean to fall asleep." Her gaze settled on me and she asked, "You got a cigarette? I'm dying for a smoke."
I could only shake my head. Gathering my wits and dignity, I stood and asked, "Who are you? What are you doing here?" I tried to not look at Duo but my eyes betrayed me anyway. His naked back was to me, his hair unbound and tossed wildly over the pillow. My heart sank.
She must have seen something in my expression for she paused in pulling on her shoes to say, "Don't worry so much kid, you'll have a heart attack by the time you're twenty." Half crouched over trying to adjust a strap, the woman gave me a friendly smile. "If you're worrying about lover boy here, he'll be alright after he sleeps it off." She gave him a fond caress on a bared shoulder. "He kept talking about some kitty…" She peered at me. "Do you know who this Kitty is?"
Again, I could only shake my head. What had happened while I was gone? What had Duo done?
By this time, the woman had the door open ready to leave, her discarded coat in hand. "Well, anyway, tell him thanks for nothing and I'll see him later." She gave me another smile and, for a brief moment, I could see how pretty she must have been at one time. I gave her a wavering smile in return. "You're cute, kid. Hang onto that one. I've a feeling he's worth it." And then she was gone, shutting the door behind her and leaving me dazed and more than a little confused.
Going to the bed, I touched his bare shoulder, wanting to see him, dreading to see him …now. I was surprised to see my hand shaking, and inside, I felt numb. "Duo?" I called out softly.
He mumbled and rolled over, his eyes opening to bare slits. As if by instinct, his hand sought mine, hugging it to his chest with a single-minded need and pulling me down to kneel by his side. "Kitty… c'mere. Wanta' hold 'ya…" he muttered, a sleepy smile on his face.
I nearly gagged from the smell rolling off him. Stale cigarette, strong drink, cheap perfume and dried sweat swirled in an invisible cloud added to my already off-kilter feeling. I jerked my hand free and stumbled back. "You're drunk!" I shouted in shock.
"Shut the fuck up!" a voice roared from the other side of the room.
Whirling, I spotted Duo's roommate propping himself up on an arm, glaring at me. "Sorry, Mill. I didn't know you were here," I whispered.
He grunted and noticed that it was me standing there. A wicked grin on his face, he laughed. "Oh God, Maxwell is so going to be surprised." He looked over to Duo's bed. "Josie leave?"
"Josie?" I asked swallowing the bile wanting to rise.
"Yeah, the waitress from the club. Your boyfriend and her hit it off really well last night - I thought he'd get lucky." He laughed again, and flopped back down on his pillow.
The world swam in slowly twisting black and gray light and I knew I had to get out of there. Feeling I was going to be sick if I stayed, I stumbled from the room, not realizing I didn't have my coat, not bothering to close the door, not paying attention to the slurred, sleep ridden voice calling out my name. I fled the dorms, out into the cold and snow.
I have no idea where I walked, what I did or whom I talked with, I know I wound up sitting on our favorite bench at the park near campus. It overlooked a small pond, usually home to a family of ducks; they must have flown south. Not sure how long I'd been sitting there, blankly staring at the water rippling in the wind, and completely unaware of my surroundings, at least until his warm hand touched mine.
"God, Quatre! You're freezing!" he cried out. I turned stiffly not even allowing it to register at first who it was sitting next to me. "Here…" Duo unwound his scarf and pulled off his coat.
As if I didn't care, I let him dress me doll-like, my eyes fixed on his face while he worked. "Why?" My voice was low and cracked on that single word.
His hands stilled and he dropped his gaze. "Ah, Quatre… shit." He finished zipping the coat and crossed his arms. "Let's go get a cup of coffee or something… get out of this cold." He wasn't meeting my eyes.
"Why?" I asked again.
"It isn't like that… nothing happened. Shit. I got drunk… I only got drunk." His voice drifted away.
I stood pulling his coat off, the hidden anger surfaced in burning intensity. "You son-of-a-bitch!" I shouted in low fury. "How dare you!" Duo gaped at me, sliding back on the bench. "You …slept with some woman, and you dare try to tell me you were only drunk?" I threw the coat at him, and turned away.
"Quatre! Wait!" He scrambled behind me. I hadn't waited but I wasn't walking fast either. He put his coat back around my shoulders, holding it in place with an arm. "Leave this on, damn it! You're freezing." He sounded pissed, and some part of me was pleased, at least I wasn't the only one.
Shoving his arm off me, I stepped away from him. "Don't touch me."
He held out his hands placatingly. "Okay, I won't touch you. Just listen, all right? Listen to me… and if you're still mad … well, shit… I don't know. You can hit me as much as you want." He flashed a quick grin.
I hadn't wanted to listen to him; I had wanted to strike out, releasing my anger and pain, going against my fundamental pacifism. The residue anger from that day churned still in my stomach time and distance hadn't been able to completely erase, and I felt resentment at the loss of righteousness indignation to my bruised and hurting ego. But instead of retaliating, I allowed him to lead me to the coffee shop.
He had explained the circumstances, and I knew he wasn't guilty of what I had believed. Stupidity, maybe, but not infidelity - he hadn't even come close.
Sitting across from me, sipping on his drink, he told me how he'd missed me and had been very bored. To keep himself busy, and from driving his roommate crazy, he tagged along with Miller while the man tended bar. At first it worked out all right; Duo would help out some, he'd make a little money and end his boredom at the same time. But, the more he was there, the more he started to drink - to keep from thinking about me, he'd said. New Year's Eve night being no exception, he had gotten drunk. Miller had been his ride, and when his car wouldn't start, the waitress offered them a lift. Duo told me how he barely remembered her helping Miller carry him up to their room but could offer no idea on how she wound up in his bed; he had no memory of it.
It was over a week later I remembered to ask about Kitty, and after demanding he tell or I would leave, he did, grudgingly. I sometimes wished I hadn't insisted. Duo explained that Kitty was his pet name for me, one he used when thinking of me with affection. And one he never thought anyone would find out about - let alone me.
"Gin!" Duo called out in glee, drawing my attention. I shifted in my seat to watch the two for a moment, some part of me wishing the past could just erase itself, and what had happened hadn't.
Victor took Duo's ribbing as he always had, giving him back as good as he got. Duo crowed when the score was read out, and he turned a flashing grin to me. A painful reminder of days past, when the three of us would study together or the four when Vic's girlfriend would drop by, and we'd end up playing games or watching movies. It'd been a long time. Duo's grin faltered and I dropped my gaze back to my book. I didn't want the emotions evoked from memories pushed off on him; I wouldn't doubt he was fighting his own demons.
::If all men were good, this precept would not be good; but since men are evil and will not keep their word with you, you shouldn't keep yours to them.:: ¹
Reading the same line over from my text again, the low murmuring curl in my gut roiled and I dashed from my chair to the washroom quickly. I leaned against the closed door, willing my stomach to settle. Stumbling to the sink, I splashed cold water on my face, and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
Duo claimed to never lie, and technically he never had; though he had no qualms about twisting the truth to fit his needs. The promises he made to me, they were as red flags to a bull - a challenge issued to the basic desire in him to walk just this side of honesty without stepping over the boundary line. He'd explained it to me once during the days when I never thought he'd use it on me. A dodge, he called it. Using half-truths and words to keep it honest enough the mark didn't know what you were up to. Keep 'em confused, he'd said.
Well, he kept me confused for a long time. There were several incidences leading up to our final split, the rumors, the dodges, his behavior, and not the least, his drinking. The worst was the drinking, for I believe it's what lead him to change and become the person who brought out the behavior so appalling to me.
Our second semester had started, and another freshman gathering was held at the campus community center. Duo and I went, to do something, to get away from our rooms. While we'd made up, I couldn't say my trust in him was complete. I still felt wary and raw at the edges around him. It was at this get-together that I heard the rumors in full force, and what brought the worst out in me. I don't think the girls knew who I was when they spoke of Duo, but I'd learned more than an earful of what gossip circulated about him and what he'd done while I was gone.
Walking back to the dorms across the snow-dusted grounds, I was quiet, thinking on how to approach him with what I'd heard. Duo sauntered at my side, making thumping sounds, arms bent as he played air drums. We were within sight of our building when I roused myself enough to speak.
"Duo," I'd said, drawing his attention. He glanced at me, not stopping his antics. "Are we a couple? I mean, do you consider us a couple?"
That stopped his playing. "What? Why are you asking that?"
I'd stopped walking and grabbed his sleeve to pull him around to face me. "I'm serious, Duo. I want to know what you think. Do you think of us as one?"
He looked upset and embarrassed. His gaze on the ground, he scuffed it before replying, "Shit Quatre, ... why?" He raised his eyes to meet mine. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I consider us a couple. I mean, we're together, right?" His expression wasn't one of a fond lover.
My eyes never left his as I asked deadly soft, "Then could you tell me what is your definition of a couple? I'd really like to know." He looked bewildered, confused. "Even though I've never been part of a couple before, I'd always understood a couple as being two people committed to one another. So, tell me Duo ... what is your definition of a couple?" I knew he couldn't mistake the anger in my voice.
With his eyes flashing, he demanded, "What the fuck are you talking about, Quatre? What's with all these questions all of a sudden?"
"I've heard something very interesting tonight, and I would like to know how much of a couple we really are to you. Since it seems you believe it's all right to go out with other people - to the bar, to eat, to the movies, and even to play pool. So, tell me, I'd really like to know."
The temperature outside was in the low thirties, but between the two of us, the air froze and the ground melted.
Finally exploding with an expletive, Duo twisted from my grasp, heading towards the dorms. "Fuck this shit. It's not worth it. I don't owe you anything. Just forget the whole frickin' mess."
I grabbed his arm. "No! We're not just forgetting this 'whole frickin' mess', we're going to talk about it. And then if you want out, you can leave." Duo was clenching his jaws so tightly together, I thought he'd break teeth. Leaning closer to his face, daring him to do more than glare, I told him, "For your information, you do owe me something. You owe me an explanation as to why you think it's not worth it. Why you think we're not worth it."
Duo worked his jaw some more before he looked away. Reluctantly, he began to speak, his words short and blunt, spoken in the choppiness of anger. "All right, hell. While you were gone. There was this guy, Mark. He's in my government class, and well, we ran into each other at lunch one day. We hit it off and I found out he's wanted to see the same movie I did." He glanced at me scowling. "Ya know, the one you didn't want to see? So, we went to the movies, and then caught a game of pool afterwards. But that was it. We weren't on no date or anything... he's just a friend."
"And the bar? From what I heard, he was a constant figure at the bar while you were there," I reminded him softly.
Rubbing the back of his head, Duo seemed to be thinking. "I don't know, Quatre. Hell, half the time I was there I was drunk. I don't remember everyone hanging out." His eyes narrowed. "Besides, he knows a lot of people, some even worked there. He wasn't at the club to see me."
I nodded, not sure where to go, or how to continue. His explanation felt wrong but I couldn't say where or how. "You... do you really think we're not worth it, then?"
"Shit, when you act like that, no I don't. You getting all jealous and crap. I don't need that shit." He gestured wildly. "It's like, what? I can't have any friends because I'm fucking you?"
There were times when his vulgarity was amusing, and there was now. "Right," I stated, feeling the bitter cold wash over me. Turning from him, I began a fast walk to the dorms, so angry I was shaking. I'd never wanted to hit someone more in my life than I did him at that moment.
"Wait a God-damn minute!" he shouted causing others in the area to do more than stare at us in curiosity. His hand clamped down on my shoulder, spinning me around. "You told me I owed you an explanation... so now you. What gives you the right to call judgement on me? Why are you attacking my character like this? I've never lied to you, Quatre. I'm not out fucking anyone else, and I don't want to. It's always been you." He looked as if he'd startled himself out of his anger for a moment. I know he startled me; I could only gawk at him as he continued to speak.
"From the start, I tried to be who you wanted me to be. I watched my language because you didn't like it. I wore clothes I wouldn't normally wear because you liked the way they looked. I fuckin' did things I'd never would have done but for you. It's always been for you, Quatre - always." He raked a hand through his bangs and looked up to the starless sky. I could see him blink more than once. He continued to speak, softly this time, a bare whisper, "There were days I didn't even know myself any more. Sometimes I'd make myself sick at who I was; who I was pretending to be. And to me it was worth it, because you were there. You were so... fuck, I don't know. But you were worth it." He blinked again and swallowed hard. Glaring at me, he nearly yelled, "But fuck you if that's not good enough for you. Just go running to daddy and tell him to buy you a new boyfriend 'cause I've had it!"
The only thing I could think of doing I did; my arms went around his waist and I hugged him. I could feel him shaking, with anger, with disappointment, or some other emotion I wasn't sure. "I'm sorry," I whispered into his jacket pressing myself closer. "I didn't know. I didn't understand." I felt his body relax as he exhaled, and he returned my embrace.
"Quatre?" Duo's voice came hesitantly through my remembrance. "You okay, man?"
Coming to the present with a start, I realized the water had been running in the sink for some time. "I'm fine, Duo," I called out, shutting off the facet and drying my hands.
"Well, all right, but holler if you need anything, k?" I could almost feel his presence, his hand upon the wood of the door.
"Sure," I managed around the lump in my throat. Damn him. I hated that he cared, still. I hated that I was glad he cared. But mostly, I hated that I still cared.
When I felt I could face the both of them without revealing the battle waging inside my head, I left the bathroom. Duo waited by my desk, a chilled bottle of water in his hand. He opened it before passing it to me, eyes dark with worry he didn't express aloud. I took a drink and gave him a small smile. Something passed between us, then, for he released a sigh and the tension I'd seen tightening his shoulders relaxed.
"Okay," he said in a low tone. "I'm going to finish kicking Vic's ass, and then maybe we can go grab some dinner?" He raised a brow at the last words, making it more of a question.
I nodded. "I should be done in a few more minutes. Then we could ... have dinner."
His hand touched mine briefly before he went to join my roommate on the floor. I watched them play for a moment, watched Victor's hands shuffle the cards like they'd been made for them. The semi-drama of the afternoon seemed to have passed as he dealt, and Duo tossed out a caustic comment about cheaters and underhanded dealing.
World Civilizations called; my textbook and notes awaited. Taking a seat, I grimaced. I decided to not deal with Machiavelli.
Two pages later, I found myself staring transfixed out the window. Through its partly opened pane, I could smell the early blossoms of spring. And that triggered another memory.
Just another one of those incidences that lead up to our demise, the end of our friendship. To be fair, it had been partly my fault. If I hadn't insisted on his going, if I'd been stronger, it never would have happened. Though even if it hadn't occurred, our relationship was still doomed; the Event drove the wedge more firmly between us.
After our argument, Duo'd promised and kept his word, more or less, to not drink around me. I'd told him I wouldn't listen to the rumors and would trust him at his word. It'd been an uneasy truce, but for the most part, the times we spent together after that were good ones, happy ones.
At the beginning of February, my father asked that I attend a benefit on his behalf and sent me two tickets - encouraging me to bring my friend. Though my family did not live anywhere close to the university, nor its sponsoring city, Father felt it his civic duty to support some of the area's community charities where his children lived. He'd planned to attend the function with my sister Iria, and combine a visit with me in the process. A hitch in a pending merger and an unexpected meeting caused him to change plans.
Duo had refused to go with me, saying he wasn't listening to any high society bullshit and wearing a monkey suit. I didn't blame him, I didn't want to go myself but felt it my duty - for my father. The one thing about Duo, though, if I asked in the right way, he couldn't say no. And, later in my room, I asked him in the right way. We only had two days to alter one of my tuxes to fit him.
The evening of the Event, Duo'd showed up at my door, freshly showered and ready for me to help him dress. It'd been fun, and we almost didn't - get dressed that is. He was in high spirits, a cagey nervousness he often wore when faced with uncertain situations. Watching him from across the room that night, I could see him shine; no one was brighter.
Being a charity benefit, the reception was a high priced nosh and wine mixed with the usual politics, business, society page and high finance. When he found out the charity was to benefit an inner-city youth program, Duo introduced himself to the program sponsors, and wound up discussing the details in depth with the group. He put his charm to the test in making suggestions on changes he felt were needed rather than the goals already set. The fact that he had been a youth growing up in such programs leant more credibility to his words than any other means.
As the night waned, Duo appeared to be in his element. He meandered from one congregating group to another, chatting and laughing, regaling them with stories from his childhood. I'd heard some of them before and knew others he wouldn't share here. Seeing him mingle with the glittering facade the majority of those wore, I felt an overwhelming sense to protect him. He was a Centaurea cyanus amongst the cultivated roses, beautiful and wild. Duo didn't belong with them, and like the Bachelor Button I compared him to, he could wither and die if transplanted from his native soil.
With the gloom of my thoughts hounding me, I made my way out of the main room to the balcony, seeking air and quiet. Duo found me there a few minutes later, still on a natural high born of self-confidence and ego. He seized my hand, and led me away from the crowded rooms. Telling me he'd stumbled upon it seeking a lavatory, he pulled me into a janitor's closet, making sure no one watched.
Remembering back to that time, my cheeks flushed hotly and I flashed a peek at Duo. He'd been so insistent that night, too full of his victory with the charity group and his skill at working the crowd he didn't stop to listen to me. I'd let him get carried away in kissing me; they were like wine and flooded my senses. It wasn't until his hand slipped into my pants, and he fondled me, that I had an inkling at what he wanted. He'd never been so forward in public, even if we were hidden from view, and the intensity of his need unsettled me.
He stilled my protests with more kisses, and in no time I found myself pushed up against the rough wall with my pants down around my ankles, his hands gripping my hips tightly. It was over in moments, the smell of cleanser and ammonia clogging my nostrils. A kiss to the side of my neck, a breathy "see you soon," and he was gone. I'd been left alone to pull myself together, to clean the mess I'd become.
Even now I couldn't completely blame him; I should have been stronger and insisted he stop. I shouldn't have let him get as carried away as he had, as I had. As it was, I stayed in the closet for as long as I dared, using the cheap towels and water from the mop sink to scrub at myself. I'd been weak and allowed the one person I cared about a good deal to use me in a way I never should have. He never even noticed that I hadn't returned to the reception; when I felt it time to leave, I hovered about the hallway until he made an appearance.
It all still might have worked out, him and I, if it hadn't been for the drinking. Duo did keep his promise, he didn't drink much in front of me, and he never got drunk while I was around. But I wasn't around him all the time. The nights I stayed in my room studying or working on assignments, he started going to the club with his roommate, and usually came home near to passing out. When I'd protest at the amount he was consuming, he would usually turn the tables on me, becoming angry and telling me he wasn't screwing anyone and he wasn't drinking in front of me - that it was his business.
I backed off, at least until he stopped showing up for his morning classes. The first couple of times it happened, Duo had brushed it off, telling me it was only World Politics, and I always shared notes with him anyway. When he missed his third morning class in a week, I confronted him again. He swore to cut back, that he wouldn't drink as much any more, and promised to not miss class again if he could help it.
A week later, I found him in his dorm bathroom, passed out on the floor laying in a puddle of vomit and urine.
He barely woke while I cleaned him up, dressed him and put him to bed. His awareness had been just enough for me to get him there. I sat at his bedside for a couple of hours, staring at him, wondering what my next move should be. Technically he hadn't broken his promise, but to drink enough to put him out like he'd been, and it looked as though he'd been laying there for quite some time, I was worried he was becoming an alcoholic.
It was then that I'd remembered Heero, Duo's childhood friend who knew all there was to know about him - the one who told me of my new boyfriend's first experience with a wet dream. They had been that close. Needing to talk to someone who cared for Duo as much as I did, I didn't hesitate to search through his desk to find a number to call.
On the second ring, Trowa picked up. I'd only met the two once, when they stopped on their way to California the previous fall. Both were older than Duo by a couple of years, and both were like brothers to him. I had thought Heero would have been the best one to talk with, and after finding out he was working, I nearly hung up. As though he sensed my anxiety, Trowa drew out the events leading up to my call - the ones having to do with Duo's drinking.
After telling him the tale, I waited for his verdict. When he did offer advice, at first he wanted to know how committed I was, and then told me I had two choices: get out now and save my sanity, or at least know where I needed to draw my own personal boundary and stick to it. He told me an abbreviated history of his childhood and of his alcoholic parents; he told me that I couldn't let Duo's actions ruin my life. I was beginning to think he wanted me to leave his friend stranded, and then he started to tell me what would be required of me if I wanted to help Duo.
Trowa didn't believe he'd become an alcoholic - at least not yet. If left on his own, most likely he'd work this drinking phase out of his system. But, like me, Trowa was concerned Duo would fall too far behind in school work and lose his scholarship. He gave me a few ideas and ways to approach certain situations. We ended the call after he told me to take care of myself, and not let our relationship destroy my future.
Later that day, when Duo recovered, we talked. It had scared him, I think, to discover he'd passed out to the extent he lost bodily control. The idea he could have choked and died on his own vomit gave him more than a pause. We spent the rest of that day and the next sorting through his pile of course work yet to be completed. I helped him with organizing his notes and setting up a schedule to have all work turned in. We started studying together every night.
For a few brief weeks, life was back on track, and Duo caught up with his classes. Our relationship felt as it had in the early days - as though we were discovering each other all over again. Between classes and studying, we shared games of basketball and strawberry Crush kisses. Duo had become a third resident to mine and Victor's room at least four nights a week. And I'd never been happier.
I'd gotten into the habit of having breakfast with Duo in the morning, especially if he'd spent the night. There were times when one of us had been running late, and breakfast was skipped, so it didn't cause alarm when he didn't appear. And since I knew he'd been up late the night before studying for the Economics test that afternoon, I wasn't worried he missed our morning class together.
When he didn't show up for that test, I became anxious. Because of my distraction, I know I didn't do well, and that added to my anxiety. I tried not to think of what could have kept Duo away; I tried to believe he hadn't gotten drunk again.
No one answered my knock but I found his dorm room was unlocked. Entering, I wasn't surprised to find Duo asleep, half-undressed with his boots still on. I fought the wave of disappointment washing over me, and tried to remember what Trowa had said, what I'd read about alcoholism from the pamphlets left around campus.
Duo woke when I called out to him, and sheepishly rubbed at his face. "Guess I tied one on last night, huh?"
"I guess you did," I answered calmly. "You missed class, and the test."
He closed his eyes and moaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Oh God... the test. I forgot." Peering around his arm, he asked, "I can have your notes from morning class, though, right?"
I couldn't speak for a moment. I didn't know what was stronger, my disgust or anger. "Why did you do it, Duo? What is it this time?"
"Ah, Quatre, shit," he groaned and held his head. "My friggin' head hurts. Can we talk about this later?" He'd sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and appeared to be pushing the sides of his skull together.
I handed him the aspirin bottle and a cup of water. "No, we're going to talk about it now." I squatted down in front of him as he swallowed the water with three or four pills. "I'm not going to say a word about your broken promises, but I will tell you this is it. I'm not helping you any longer. You can fail on your own time, and stop wasting mine."
He blinked at me owlishly before scrunching his face up in anger. "What the fuck are you rambling about now? When did I ever waste your time? And who asked for your help? I don't need it!"
Nodding, I rose. "Since you don't need my help, I'll leave then." I'd only taken a couple steps when he stumbled after me.
"Ah, Quatre, fuck. I didn't mean it. Come on... my head hurts."
"You should have thought of that before you started drinking." I'd turned to look at him.
Duo drew in a deep breath and winced, holding his head. "Yeah, well, I should have. Fucking Miller... he wouldn't leave me alone. I couldn't study, I couldn't get anything done. He wanted to go out." At least he had the decency to not look at me. "He kept calling me names and shit. You know how he is."
"You can't be telling me you let that moron bully you into drinking again?" Duo could only nod. I sighed, exasperated. "Christ, Duo. Did he force you to drink? Did he force you to keep drinking? Because where I'm standing, you are the only one responsible."
"Well, fuck you, Quatre! You don't know shit about what you're talking about!" he yelled in a flash of anger. "Just get the fuck out before my brain explodes." He'd bent over, holding the sides of his head in agony.
I'd made it to the stairwell before he caught me. He hadn't put on a shirt and didn't pay any attention to the stares he was receiving as the other residents passed us.
"Wait, Quatre. Hell," he called and reached for my arm. "Fuck, I'm sorry, okay. I just can't deal with this right now. Can we talk later? Please?" His eyes were bloodshot and I could smell the stench of the booze oozing from his pores.
"I don't think we have anything more to talk about, Duo. You've made it clear by your words and actions you don't need me." Duo flinched as if I'd slapped him. "I thought you were stronger than that. I cannot believe you'd allow yourself to fall back down that hole you were in because some jerk called you a couple of names." His eyes started to flash in anger. "When you grow up, we'll talk then. But until that happens, I don't want anything to do with you." I turned and started down the stairs.
"Well, fuck you too, Mister Fuckin' Quatre Winner! See if I care. I don't give a shit what you think!" My steps faltered but I kept walking as he continued to yell epithets at me.
I made certain to not see him again to the extent of changing my daily routine. The only times we met were in shared classes, and I'd exchanged seats with another student in both.
~
¹ Niccolò Machiavelli: The Prince (1532 CE)