Warnings: Yaoi, suicide attempts, drugs, child abuse, and AU. Oh! Profanity, too.

And yet again, a fond thank you to my magical betas, Mlaine and Mistress Koishii! Also a thank you to my brother, the All-Knowing Car God, for helping me find Duo's baby.

Also, as sad as it makes me to say this, Ch. 3 will be taking quite a bit longer, since I'm only 'bout 3/4 of the way finished and I'll be self-betaing. I NEVER expected to get that many reviews first chapter, either! (Reader responses at the bottom.)

Black Reflection

Chapter 2

An Esoteric Mirror

Heero was seventeen and sitting in Fate, swigging his shots and just waiting to be thrown out into the snowy city streets like every night.

The rhythm of the club washed over him, shaking the floor with a melodic pounding. Like usual, he sat alone at his table, watching his friends dance as Wufei worked. The music cut him again with a sharp change, and he barely held back a grimace. He didn't come to this club for the music, that was certain.

It had been four years, now. Four years since he'd been freed of the Room, and still he remained broken. And Heero hated being broken. As long as he could remember, his well-being had depended upon his own fortitude, and now he was shattered on the floor, useless and normally too high to care that he had nothing left.

Once more, he glared at the dancing figures of Trowa and Quatre. They moved effortlessly together, following the beat in sync, eyes locked onto each other. It almost made him sick, although whether from envy or bitterness he neither knew nor cared. Of course, they were his best friends-not to mention his only friends, save Wufei. And Duo.

Heero's hand immediately shot up to the silver cross that he wore religiously. The questions flooded into his head, as always. Had he been real? Was he really an angel? Where was he? Did he care? Had he forgotten him? Why had he been on the roof? He cut himself off with another shot of the cheap yet strong liquid. Nowadays, he didn't even bother to glance down and gage the hue.

As soon as Wufei's last deal was done, he fell into the chair facing Heero. His sleek black hair was pulled back tight, and the loose white pants he wore still didn't serve to cover much. Then again, Heero's own outfit wasn't exactly modest, consisting of blue jeans and a tight black shirt.

"Yuy," Wufei's voice rang out, and Heero's hazy blue eyes met Wufei's black. "You're holding your cross." He looked as if he were expecting a response. Heero didn't give him one. Instead, he pulled out his emaciated wallet.

"How much tonight," Heero asked, and disgust plainly twitched the other boy's face. It only lasted for a moment, but his friend had obviously seen it.

"I'm not dealing to you, Yuy," Wufei said coldly. "I'm tired of seeing you thrown out every night, and especially knowing I'm not making money off it. Not to mention knowing you're running out of money because of it." Heero glared at him.

"Hypocrite," he muttered, and stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.

"Just clean up," Wufei grumbled, and his eyes turned to the dancing couple. "For all of us, and yourself." Heero made an amused yet upset noise in his throat, and Wufei's eyes snapped back to the teenager. "You think it's funny? You're going to end up dying on the street, high and shot through the back by someone you couldn't pay. I've seen it before."

"Because you've done the shooting," Heero snapped, yet kept his voice cold and monotone at the same time. The music shifted to a darker tune, and the two stopped dancing, hands clasped tightly. That same queasy feeling began to surface.

"I don't see how you can wear a cross, and be you," Wufei muttered, looking at the silver pendant above Heero's shirt. "Why do you wear it, anyway? You're the least hopeful person I've ever met."

"The angel gave it to him," another voice said quietly, and Wufei looked up to see Trowa and Quatre taking the two remaining chairs. Wufei shrugged as Heero scowled at the taller boy. He was the only person who knew about Duo, and it was solely because they shared an apartment.

The two had both been emancipated at sixteen, and had decided to live together, since they'd been sharing a room in the foster home anyway. It was only after the fifth nightmare Trowa had asked, and it was after the sixth Heero had explained.

"It always starts with Duo," Heero had muttered into the muted darkness of their one-bedroom apartment. "He was an angel. He took me out of the Room, and away from J. And then, he left." Trowa had nodded.

"What happens in the nightmares," he'd asked, emerald eyes shining in the distance.

"He comes, but only I go," Heero stated. It was the simplest way to phrase the dreams that followed him. It always began with Duo's fall through the window, and after that Duo would take him up through the roof, but J would catch them. Duo would die, and Heero would run from the scene, Duo's bloody cross thumping against his crisp white shirt.

Heero hadn't worn a white shirt or khaki pants since getting out of the Room.

"…an angel," Wufei asked, incredulous. Trowa nodded, and Heero's glare intensified. Wufei's black eyes switched over to Heero's dark, clouded blue. "You really think an angel gave you that cross? How high were you?"

"Wufei! Shut up, you weren't there," Quatre snapped, his normally pleasant expression suddenly fiercely angry.

"And you were," Wufei asked coldly. Quatre just glared back at him, but the drug dealer was too busy posing the same question to Trowa, who shrugged. The taller boy was a man of few words, but those he did say tended to speak volumes. "Heero, just think about it for a minute. You really think an angel would waste its time with you?"

"Shut up," Heero snapped, this time loud. Wufei smirked, eyes glinting triumphantly.

"You're going to kill yourself, aren't you? You're going to die, believing something you know never happened," Wufei said, almost yelling, and Heero stood up. Wufei followed suit, and before the Chinese boy could do anything else, Heero slammed his fist into Wufei's jaw. With wide black eyes, the boy dropped to the floor with a thud.

Quatre and Trowa sighed disapprovingly, and the bouncer grabbed Heero's shirt.

"Don't ever come back here, kid," the bouncer yelled, two-foot-thick arms shoving Heero out the back door and slamming it shut.

He landed in the snowy alley with a small grunt, mouth clenched shut. He'd taken worse punishment from even Quatre. The snow rose into the air, puffing around his face and settling in his hair like stardust. For once, Heero regretted his action. Not because he'd hit Wufei, of course, but because it was ten degrees out and he was wearing a short-sleeved black shirt, which was now soaked from the snow.

He brushed himself off silently and stood, barely noticing the blood on his chin from the rough concrete beneath the white blanket of winter. Firm steps through the snow led him to the deserted street beyond. Heero wasn't surprised; it was expected for the world to be asleep on a snowy Saturday night at three AM.

His gaze turned upwards, gazing at the gray clouds, and he barely noticed the flakes of ice landing serenely on his dark eyelashes.

He barely noticed the car, too.

One extended high-pitched honk was all the warning Heero had, and he immediately jumped back to where the curb used to be. The clearly used black vehicle swerved until it was diagonal in the street. Heero couldn't help but be impressed. Anyone but a very skilled driver would have either hit him, or spun, possibly flipping the car.

The driver jumped out of the car, and Heero's heart stopped.

It was him. Frantic violet eyes, long brown braid, entirely black outfit…It was him.

Unnoticed heavy metal poured out of the black car's stereo as the angel slid toward Heero.

"FUCK, man! You okay," he asked, looking both concerned and hectic at the same time. Suddenly, his eyes seemed to melt. "I know you…I-KNIFE BOY! Heero! Shit, how you been? Sorry I almost ran you over. You're half covered in snow, so…damn! It's great to see you're okay. Are you okay? I'm so sorry, man." Heero just stared at the angel.

Everything sunk in. Duo was alive, he was real, and he was standing in front of him. Sure, the boy had almost run him over, but…it was Duo.

Without another thought, Heero flung his arms around the other boy, holding on for dear life. The only thing that had kept him alive, through all the orphanages and times discarded by families, through all the looks his scars got in gym class and the worried glances from his teachers, was clutched in his arms.

"Duo," he whispered, and the other boy finally hugged him back, albeit tentatively.

"Yeah, it's me," Duo sighed, and finally hugged back tighter. "You alright? I really didn't mean to almost run you over." Heero smiled a little.

"Of course," he said, the snow still falling down on them.

"Need a ride somewhere," Duo finally asked, pulling away with a grin. "I mean, it's the least I can do for almost killing you." Heero shook his head.

"I need to go home," he muttered, and Duo frowned.

"And why can't I drive you there…? Whatever, man," he shrugged, black shirt slowly becoming covered with the snow. "So, how's life been treating you? Shitty like me, or just as bad as the next guy?" Heero shrugged, the cold seeping into his bones again.

"Horrible. You," Heero asked, crossing his arms and rubbing them casually. Duo shook his head, still grinning as always.

"Come on, just let me drive you. You'll freeze your ass off out here," the violet-eyed boy said, and ushered Heero to the old black car. "Meet my baby! It's a lovely 1987 Buick Grand National. Or, in other words, it's an ugly old car that still kicks ass and can move like hell." Duo chuckled, opening the passenger door for the mildly shivering Heero to sit down. The interior was almost disgustingly eighties, and very well-loved, the tangy scent of a black car freshener wafting throughout. Heero couldn't help but notice the miniature scythe also hanging from the rear-view mirror.

"Thank you," Heero finally said when the braided boy slid into the driver's seat, grinning in a way that made him almost uncomfortable. The music was loud, but somehow fit the atmosphere so well it didn't bother the blue-eyed boy.

"No sweat! So, tell me where you wanna go," Duo said, and slammed his door shut. The car turned on relatively normal, but Heero had a lurking suspicion this was going to be one hell of a ride. He quickly gave the directions to the small apartment he shared with Trowa, and that grin returned. "Buckle up." Heero complied quickly.

Duo backed up the car onto the road (its front wheels had been on the sidewalk), and it moved forward at a regular pace. But, after five seconds, the turbo kicked in and the car was plowing through the snowy streets at ninety-five miles an hour without any difficulty. Heero looked over at the driver, who was leaning back, grinning and driving with one hand.

"This…is safe," Heero yelled over the music and engine, and Duo grinned, turning the corner with a pull of the emergency break and a slide across the wet ground.

"Haven't died yet!" Heero frowned. That wasn't very reassuring.

In far too short a time, they arrived at the small building with three apartments in it. Then again, maybe it was too long. Heero was relieved to get out of the car, even though it had been insanely fun. Emphasis on insane, of course. Duo was laughing when he stepped out, and stopped to pat the top of his car affectionately.

And then, they stood staring at each other again. What was there to say? To do?

Still the snow fell, yet whenever Duo was around…there was no temperature, only the warmth of his presence. Heero frowned. He didn't like feeling so different just because one person showed up again. Like usual, he just shrugged it off in his mind, cataloguing that with the rest of the shit in his life.

"Thank you," Heero said again. Duo just smiled.

"No problem, man," he shrugged, stretching his back a little. Then, he pulled out a familiar, curvy knife, almost looking embarrassed. "I…ah, I still have your knives, so…" Without a word, Heero pulled the cross out from under his shirt and over his head. When he tried to give the silver chain to the braided boy shook his head. "Nah, keep it. I got a spare, anyway, and it was a present. I just…it was good to see you're alive." He scratched his head for a moment.

"You've saved me twice now," Heero stated. "I don't like that. I need to give you something back." Duo laughed.

"What, saving my life when I fell through your skylight and thousand dollar knives don't count," he asked, almost incredulous. "Damn it, Heero, I sold one of those knives for fifteen hundred dollars. That money saved my life. I'd say we're even." Heero nodded, and the silence came again, the black of Duo's car turning to a silent gray.

"My life's shit," Heero said finally, and Duo nodded. "It's been shit since I was born, and it always will be. I've attempted suicide twice, and each time I failed because my roommate came home early for no reason. The first time was just overdosing, and the second was slitting my wrists. I get drugs from my best friends, and I don't even bother to go to school anymore." His clear, piercing blue eyes looked straight at the angel. "It was only twice because of you."

Duo crossed the distance between them, violet eyes intense. "My life's shit too. I've lived on the streets since I was born, and everyone I love dies. I'm always running," Duo muttered, and his mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "Fun to be so fucking twisted you don't even notice it, huh?" Heero smirked.

"Come in. I'll get you some…whatever," he said, and with a chuckle Duo followed him into the skinny brick building. The run-down green and plastic stairway led up to the third floor, where Heero and Trowa's meager apartment lay. He easily unlocked the door and stepped in.

The apartment was almost pessimistic in its sparse furnishings. There was a dusty TV, a couch, a coffee table, and a kitchen. In fact, the only non-dusty thing was the microwave and refrigerator. Heero intentionally stayed outside as much as possible. The carpet was an old brown color clearly left from the original 70's décor, and the walls were a pale green nearly reminiscent of a hospital.

Heero flicked the light switch on, and moved towards the fridge. "What do you want?" Duo walked in, and plopped down on the couch, looking down through the shuttered window at the snow below. He sighed.

"I really want something disgustingly fizzy and sweet," Duo said. Smirking, Heero threw him whatever Quatre always drank when he came over. It was in a can, so he figured it couldn't be too illegal. Duo opened it, and swigged. "You ever wonder why the hell we keep going?"

"No," Heero said, grabbing a random can and sitting next to Duo.

"Well, I do," Duo grumbled, and grimaced. "This stuff's nasty. What the hell is it?" Heero shrugged.

"No idea. Trowa's boyfriend stocks our fridge," Heero said, and Duo's eyebrows shot up as he barely caught himself from choking. "What? The fact my roommate's gay shocks you?" Duo chuckled.

"Nah, I just can't imagine you with a gay man's food supply," Duo said, and shrugged. "So, what's your preference?" Heero shrugged.

"Don't know," he stated, and downed his drink. It burned, but he shook his head sharply and the acrid taste left. "I'm going to read the cans from now on." Again, the other boy laughed.

"…So, aside from suicide attempts and drugs, what else do you do," Duo asked, and Heero shrugged.

"I hack. One of my Room talents," Heero said. "You?" The other boy shrugged.

"I'm a thief," he said simply. "Con man, pickpocket…whatever pays that day. I live alone…well, 'cept Scythe" Heero's eyes asked the question. "My car, man! Come on! We're famous on the street racing circuit." Duo frowned. "Or, we were a few years ago. I kind of gave that up when I got kicked out of my old place." Heero nodded.

"It explains your driving," he said, and Duo gave him a playful punch.

"Shut up. I doubt you could do any better, Mr. Walking Around in Short Sleeves in Winter," Duo grumbled, and suddenly his violet eyes widened, usual cheery face turning to an expression of shock. Heero gave him a confused look.

"What?" Duo's panic quickly dissipated with a half-chuckle, half-sigh.

"Well, I guess that explains some shit," Duo grumbled to himself, and it seemed to Heero the other boy had completely forgotten his presence. Finally, he looked back up, smiling regretfully. "Sorry, babe. I'm gonna go now." Duo stood, and Heero panicked.

He was leaving again. He was leaving again, and Heero would be alone again. What could he say? What could he do? He didn't want to be alone again…

"Don't go," Heero said, and Duo turned with a sigh, violet eyes cold.

"You don't get it, do you? You're life's just as shitty as mine, but you're still…innocent, damn it! How the…" he sighed, and shook his head. "Damn."

He suddenly strode forward, and pulled Heero to his feet. Normally, he would have punched whoever did that, but there was the damned eternal Duo Exception. Without a moment's hesitation, the braided boy planted his lips on Heero's, whose eyes shot open. It lasted for only an instant, and then the black-clad boy backed away, looking both giddy and embarrassed.

"Eh…I'll see you around," Duo said, backing towards the door as a blush crept up onto his cheeks. "Take my advice, and clean up. I don't wanna lose another…friend." He opened the doorknob behind him. "So…uh…bye, Heero." He slipped out the door, and the utterly shocked Heero just stared at where Duo had been standing. He heard the engine, and the rough sound of snow ripped apart by tires as Duo drove off with reckless abandon.

The last psychiatrist had claimed Heero had extreme reactions to extreme stimuli because of his seven years of sensory depravation in the Room. The last doctor had said Heero had a bizarre blood cell count, giving him momentary hypoglycemia, which made him faint at seemingly random times. That doctor had been quickly replaced by another, who'd said he was an incurable case.

Then, the family had kicked him out, and Heero had been left to the government, who didn't spend their money on little orphan experiments.

So, in other words, Trowa found Heero unconscious on the floor, eyes rolled into the top of his head, for no reason.

x...x

I'd just like to point out this chapter's intentionally choppy, since Heero's half (or 7/9) drunk.

READER RESPONSES:

cool youkai: Like I said, the next chapter will be taking a lot longer (I'd estimate a week and a half), but thank you very much for reviewing! I'm so glad to know you like it!

camillian: Hope this chapteranswered some questions. I'm so glad I got a bit of time topost again.

GundamPilot03: Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Lost-Remembrance/Red Tail: Actually, I'm sorry if it's dissapointing but this isn't an angel fic. Duo just seems to pop up when Heero needs someone most. And Ch. 1 was actually the prologue before I realized this site doesn't do prologues. Thank you very much for reviewing!

prussianblue1x2: Thank you very much! Actually it isn't my first story, but the first time I've put anything I write on the internet. I just realized fanfiction had a name a few months ago, and I was quickly addicted. Thanks for reviewing!

ahanchan: Thank you! I'm sorry to say I'll be updating slower now, though. I just get a little nit-picky and it takes a bit longer.

Keefy: Thanks so much! And it's gonna get a lot more interesting. I actually thought Ch. 1 was kind of boring...

ms trick: Thank you very much! And rest assured, I'll keep writing 'till I'm dead.

Dark Kaiser Ken-Wolf: Thank you very much! I hope you like this chapter too.