Julian slept in a makeshift crib/hammock strung between an entertainment center too large for the apartment, and a doorknob to a closet that no one used. Duo, Heero, and Lela were all sitting at the kitchen table, eating rubbery macaroni and cheese.
"Dude," Duo began, his mouth half-full, "this stuff sucks."
"Well, if somebody hadn't gone on a makeover rampage, then maybe it would be fresh and tasty." Lela quashed a giggle, putting the back of her hand against her mouth. "What?"
"Nothing," she answered, wiping away the last bits of pseudo-cheese goop from her lips. "I've got a question though."
"Fire away," replied Duo, rising with the plastic bowl, obviously in search of more food. He was rummaging around the kitchen. "Make it quick, though. I have to leave for work soon."
Lela glanced at the clock. "It's ten thirty."
"Yeah, I know. They called me in early again."
Heero rolled his eyes. "You were saying?"
"Right. Um... are... are you two lovers, or something?" Duo stopped his errant search, and Heero looked up from his half-eaten bowl. Lela could hear the clock, ticking behind them in a slow, death march. She had a feeling she had just stumbled into some very rough territory between the two of them. Then, Duo sidled up to Heero, in a very strange way; he had that kind of strut you see stripper's do in high-heels right before they throw off all their clothing. His hands slid over the man's sculpted shoulders and down to his chest.
"You could say that," Duo answered, letting his head loll on top of Heero's. Heero let his hands cover Duo's manicured ones for a little bit. He rolled his head back onto one shoulder, and their lips touched again. Lela tried to focus on her macaroni rather than the two men before her. "Aw," Duo began, looking up. "What's the matter? Do we freak you out?"
Lela blushed heavily. "No... I just miss the love." Duo's lips split apart into that wide grin that let you know something totally random was coming up. He broke away from Heero and darted towards Lela, grabbing both of her hands.
"I'll show you love!" he cried, in a dramatic opera voice. He kissed her softly, and then began to gallivant around the kitchen and living room, with her in tow. His arm was tight around her waist. He began to whisper in her ear, "Wow... I almost forgot what it felt like to dance with someone who had real breasts. Heero's got nothing." Lela laughed, rambunctiously, which only spurred on Duo's inane commentary of the breast sizes of various men. "That kid is flat as a board!"
"Yeah, well mine aren't much to look at either."
"You kidding?" Duo asked, as she spun her out. She was still smiling wider than she had in years. "Please... you've got a nicer rack than most of the transvestites I know." She twirled back in, one of Duo's more hippie-like skirts following her into his arms. "Know what would make this better?"
"If you weren't gay?"
"No..."
"If this wasn't your skirt?"
"... Nevermind."
"No, no, tell me."
Duo smiled, with that same slyness dancing around in the back of his eyes. "THREE-WAY!" he cried out, before running to Heero, grabbing his hand and tugging him to where a bewildered Lela was still standing. Duo took both of their hands and began to dance around insanely, swaying his hips and shaking his head like a madman. Lela couldn't help but follow along, and she began to twist and twirl. Suddenly, she went too far backwards, and crashed into the sink, where a stack of pots and pans had been sitting. The crashing metal made Heero twist his head around, his eyes suddenly cold and dark. OZ. He thought this without anything to back it up. His eyes narrowed, as he reached into his waistband for where his gun would have been. The world around him was no longer his merry kitchen, covered in Duo's artwork, but rather a cast-iron battleground. Soldiers were pointing rifles at him, as he ducked behind barrels. He wasn't really there, a voice in the back of his mind told him. He was safe at home; the war was over. He couldn't listen though. It was just another trick. He had to defeat OZ. He had to save them. Save who?
"Heero?" Duo asked. He could see him suddenly, appearing into his nightmare. Duo. He had to save Duo.
"Duck!" he cried, diving on top of the braided boy. He grabbed a spoon off of the counter and threw it. Its aim was dead-on, hitting Lela squarely between the eyes. She slumped back against the countertop, clutching it with both hands so that she didn't fall.
"What the hell?" she gasped, resisting the urge to dart from the kitchen. Duo was squirming underneath Heero's tense body. He was glaring at her, death in his eyes.
"Don't move. Are you okay, Duo?"
"Dude, I was fine. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"They're trying to kill us!"
"Heero!" Duo screamed. "What the fuck are you talking about? No one's trying to kill us. The war is over." Heero stopped suddenly, feeling the realization drop heavily on him.
"Over...?"
Duo had managed to wriggle out from underneath the confused ex-pilot. He took his face in one hand and stared straight into his eyes. "It's all over, Heero. We won, remember?"
Heero shook his head. Lela was just standing behind them, a dazed confusion sinking over her. She swiftly became aware of the throbbing pain in her forehead, and slowly moved towards the freezer for some ice. Heero's whole body was trembling on the floor, as Duo pulled him into his arms. "Yeah... it's done. You don't have to worry anymore. No one wants to kill you."
"Duo...?" Lela whispered from behind them. He motioned to her to leave, and she swiftly walked out of the room. She sat down on the couch in the living room and drew her knees up around her chest as she stared at the door. She wanted to run again, wanted to leave. She was in the wrong place, at the wrong time and she knew it. There was something wrong with these two; the war had done something terrible to them, but she could only imagine what.
What did Heero think I was? She mentally pondered what had just happened, as though she could find some sort of explanation for the behavior. She had heard somewhere, a long time ago, about a disease that made people act very strange after something bad had happened. She wondered if Heero was suffering from the war. What was that thing called? Post... something. Christ, she didn't remember. She just hoped that it wouldn't happen again.
"Alright, loves, I'm off." Duo/Megan was standing by the couch in full drag regalia. He had donned a standard work uniform (short skirt, high heels, fishnets) and had styled his hair into some kind of elaborate updo. His face was painted, black kohl rimming his eyes and ruby red lipstick shining across his smile. "You two be good, okay?"
Lela nodded from where she sat on the couch, clutching an ice pack to her forehead. Heero had apologized once for pegging her with the spoon, and then moved on to other things. She was starting to learn that this was simply the way he operates. While he was getting ready, Duo explained to her that the times before the war had been the hardest for Heero. He'd just started regaining any sense of emotion near the end. As he curled his eyelashes, he said,
"It's always been strange to me that Heero has such an attraction to me." He switched eyes then, letting them grow wide and beautiful. "After all, the first time I met him I shot him twice." He closed one eye, smoothing the lid with his finger before smothering it in black kohl. "But, that's just kind of how Heero is, y'know?" Lela nodded. "Pass me that eye crayon, would you, love?"
And now, Duo was going to leave. He was going to depart, and let Lela remain alone with this crazed post-war psychopath who had tried to kill her with a spoon just half an hour before. Heero was standing near Duo as he was preparing to leave. Absentmindedly, he picked up a scrap of paper and placed it in Duo's outstretched palm. He leaned towards one of the ears, studded with a pair of lengthy clip-ons, and gently bit the lobe. "Don't sleep with anyone, okay?" whispered Heero's little voice. It was the one he used only when he really wanted something. Duo smiled back at him, taking the little paper slip between two polished fingers and swaying his hips very slightly towards Heero's.
"M'kay," he answered dreamily, "But it's going to take a real kiss to get me to do this shopping on my way home." Heero's lips twitched into a half-smile before he put one hand on the hip of Duo's black skirt and pressed them together. Lela tried to look away as Duo kissed him back, wrapping one hand around the back of Heero's neck, and twirling the little hairs around its nape. Heero pulled back abruptly, staring at Duo's closed, painted eyes.
"How's that?"
Duo grinned. "That'll have to do, because otherwise I'll be late." He tucked the paper down his top, and patted his chest twice. "I'll see you later, Hee-chan. Nice to meet you, Lela!"
Lela didn't have a chance to offer the same thanks to Duo before he slipped out the door. She managed to smile as she saw the wistful look of love that lingered in Heero's eyes. She didn't understand what made these two soldiers; other than their eccentricities, they were basically normal kids. She felt sorry for them. They were the kind of people who had been forced to grow up too fast, and finally just gave out. Their legs crumbled into sand beneath them, and they became cross dressers, or had flashbacks. Whatever they could do to keep themselves sane, they saw to it that it was promptly done. That kind of trait deserved admiration. Instead, it brought a rather large amount of shame.
"Hey, Heero?"
"Hn?" he replied, glancing up. His eyes were still entranced with the image of Duo. She thought it was adorable how much he loved him.
"Where does Duo work?"
Heero sighed, and shook his head softly. "At a nightclub called 'Crazy Legs.'" He looked back to her. "Though, you'd probably call it a gay bar."
"Ah... I see."
"It's only open nights, because of the local homophobia. By around midnight, most people are too drunk to care."
"Where I come from, we call that hypocrisy." Heero managed a slight laugh at that. It sounded forced, but from what she'd deduced of Heero's character, he was not the type to force anything. "Hey... Heero?"
"Yeah?"
This time, she had a really hard time saying what she wanted to. He was beautiful to her, in all the ways that no one she had ever met could have dreamed. She stepped towards him, gently trying to avoid the clothing and junk mail that littered their floor. "Could... could I kiss you?"
"What?"
Now, she felt like shit. "I didn't mean it like that... I'm just... kind of alone, you know?" She did not want to be doing this. She did not want to start crying, because she wasn't trying to play the sympathy card. What she was saying was true, though. There was a loneliness deep in her being, a hole in the pit of her stomach that could never be filled. It'd come, of course, after the death of Julian's father, but it wasn't just that. It was all of everything. She wiped a stray tear off her cheek. "Julian's great to have around, but... it's this different kind of... I don't want to say love, but..."
"I know," he whispered in reply. A blank stare back was the only kind of answer she could muster. "I've always felt like that."
"Even with...?" She couldn't say it, but she knew that he understood. He nodded softly.
"There are some things you just can't run from, Lela."
"Like what?"
He turned, completely out of nowhere, and walked away from her, back into the kitchen. She followed him, haste quickening her steps. "Wait just a second," she called after him. He stopped beside the stove and looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean."
"No... I don't."
"Yes, you do. There's a reason I was so nice to you, Lela. I'm not good to random strangers. I have a tendency to try and kill them."
"What the hell are you saying?"
"You know my secret if you know how Victor died."
Lela's heart stopped beating. Her lips stopped moving, her lungs stopped breathing. She could taste a cold swell of bile flooding to her throat as a sudden flash of the day she'd gotten the news slammed into her head like a runaway train into a brick wall. She gasped for air as the color fell from her cheeks. "You killed him..."
Heero nodded.
"Why?"
"He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It shouldn't have happened, but it did." Heero wanted to leave. He didn't want to pull back these old memories, these tales of the horrible things that he'd done during the war. He didn't want to think about the civilians who died because of him, the soldiers just like him, only with families. He didn't want to think about the wives and sons and daughters that these men and women had left behind, about the lives that he'd shattered when he pulled the trigger or hit the self-destruct button. He couldn't bring himself to run, though. He couldn't stop himself from telling Lela. The story flooded out of him like a bursting dam. "It was late; none of us had slept in days, but we knew that it was only a matter of time before OZ made a move. So we waited, with nothing but coffee to keep us going. I was piloting Wing when it happened. Their mobile dolls ambushed us, and we were ordered to fire at will. The only thing I know is to follow orders. I couldn't have done anything else. At first, I took careful aim, made sure to avoid the other men, but soon, we were just dying too fast. Our numbers wouldn't hold if we kept up like this. So, everyone became my enemy, even the ones on my side. I didn't know what was happening until it was over. I wasn't sure how many deaths were mine until we began to pick over the bodies and the smoldering mobile suits. Victor was there; he'd barely been harmed. There was a picture of you in his wallet, you and Julian. I knew it was you in the church, just like I knew it was my fault that Victor was dead. I did the only thing I knew to do."
Lela had done nothing but stare at him while he told her all of these things, things she didn't need to know. Her voice was soft and quiet, even as he saw the tears welling in her eyes. "Fuck you."
She went into the extra bedroom without a word, and pulled herself under the sheets. Heero sighed, and turned off the lights in the kitchen, as he pulled himself into bed. He couldn't even conceive of what would happen the next day.