Warning/Pairing: Some language. Heero and Duo. Angst. My apologies, Heero's kind of an emo but it's late and I'm tired and I don't have time to make it better.

December 19th

To Be Real...

Some days I feel a little . . . worn.

There's a story called The Velveteen Rabbit. It's about a stuffed rabbit who is forgotten. When he is found once again he is much loved; loved into shabbiness as his spots are rubbed off and he grows threadbare. But then one day it is decided that the velveteen rabbit is no longer suitable and he's thrown out with the trash to be burned. Fortunately for him, a kind fairy comes by and turns him into a real rabbit.

The first time I read that story; I had to leave the bookstore. It's not normal for seventeen-year-old boys to be seen crying in the children's book section.

I felt a strange kinship with the little rabbit in the story. I too was forgotten and found. I too am used and used till the point where my seams are starting to show and I feel rather ragged. I have to wonder how much longer I will go on until I'm no longer useful. Will I too, be tossed out with the trash?

Ironically the story begins on Christmas morning. Christmas is like an anniversary of sorts for me. A day that means nothing and yet means everything. Today is Christmas, though it's nothing like the one in the story. There are no presents and laughter, no relatives and friends. No stocking. No tree. There isn't even any snow this year.

I'm on medical leave. Or as the doctor put it, "You may be the closest living thing to Superman there is, but even you can't immediately bounce back from two bullets in the leg and a cracked skull."

Actually I probably could have. Bounced back, that is. I didn't need the two weeks off, but I'd taken it without a word. I was tired.

Unfortunately, fast recovery means I have plenty of time to sit in my empty apartment thinking and staring at the dead leaves as they tumble past my window.

I'm lonely.

At least the rabbit had another forgotten toy to talk to when he was tossed aside in the cupboard.

Nobody talks to me at work. Nobody wants to be my partner. When they first come in, they laugh and mock, seeing a kid in a Preventer uniform and making jokes about playing grownup. But then the jokes stop and they trade their smirks for darting eyes and whispers in the hall.

See that kid? That's Heero Yuy. Don't mess with him, he's not real he's just a machine.

The velveteen rabbit wondered if he was real too. He thought he was and he was happy. But then he learned he was nothing more than a stuffed toy.

I am real. I bleed. I cry. I laugh if the joke is funny. I want people to look at me and not be afraid.

Where is my fairy?

Hell, it doesn't even have to be a fairy. I'd take a damn partner who doesn't stand back and tell me "It's all yours soldier boy." Then watch me get shot at, run over, beat up. Watch me be the one to dismantle the bomb, talk down the roof jumper, take out the sniper and chase down the get away car.

I want somebody who'll catch me when I fall. Not just call the ambulance when it looks like I'm not getting up right away.

I'm startled to see the leaves have been replaced with snowflakes. They're swirling outside, dancing in the wind before settling on the ground and sticking to my window. Looks like everyone will get their white Christmas after all.

I wonder if I count as part of that everyone but I'm interrupted from my thoughts by a loud banging on the door. Puzzled I walk over and open it, staring at a snow-covered Duo who is standing on the step outside.

"Merry Christmas Heero!" He pushes past me and shakes the snow off his head. I scowl and step back to avoid getting wet.

"What are you doing here?"

He squints and looks me up and down. "I heard you needed a partner."

The last time I saw Duo was several months ago. He'd been taking jobs from Howard; out in space more often than not. He'd send me a note when he could and I always enjoyed his messages. They were colorful. And alive.

"I always need a partner. Nothing new there."

He ignores my sarcasm and pushes me further into the living room, standing in front of me with his arms folded. "So I've discovered. You've been holding out on me. Why didn't you tell me you were out on medical?"

He scowled at me and I scowled back. "It wasn't important."

Groaning he threw his hands up in the air. "You kill me. Fine whatever. Have it your way and play stone man."

He gave me a filthy look and then gestured toward my clothes. "Take off your shirt and drop your pants."

I gaped at him, "What?"

"You're not a fucking machine, Yuy. I want to make sure you're okay."

Impatiently he reached forward and started unbuttoning my shirt. I batted his hands away and then sighed, doing as he said. Sometimes it was easier to just go along with Duo, steel is more malleable when he gets in a mood.

His hands were gentle though, as he ran his fingers over my stitches, making disgusted noises when he found the second bullet wound.

"You haven't been putting lotion on these older ones."

I examine the ones he points to and then stare at the wall behind his head. "I didn't really see the point."

He looks up sharply and narrows his eyes. "Care to explain that comment?"

I look away, feeling naked in a way that has nothing to do with my lack of clothing. Calloused fingers grasp my chin and turn my head back to face him. "Talk to me, Heero."

I shrug but he doesn't let go, just slides his hand down to rest on my shoulder.

"You're going to think I'm an ass." I tell him finally.

He laughs and squeezes my shoulder gently before fetching the lotion from beside the couch and rubbing it on my older wounds. "No worries there my friend, I think you're an ass already."

I snort but his hands feel good and soon I'm lulled into a calm that makes it easier to speak. "Do you know the story of the velveteen rabbit?"

His head is tipped down so I can't see his eyes but his fingers slow their motion. "Yeah, I know that one."

"Some days . . . I feel a lot like that rabbit. Worn. Waiting to be made real."

"And today?" He stops and looks up at me, not judging just listening and understanding.

"Today . . . just another patch job. No fairy yet."

I barely get the last words out and I feel pathetic that I'm sitting here in just my boxers, eyes filling up with tears, Duo of all people looking at me.

But then he wipes my face and wraps his arms around me. "Heero, there never will be a fairy. You want to know why?"

I shake my head, clutching the back of his shirt and think that if this is supposed to be an inspirational pep talk, it sucks.

He continues though and so I listen. "There will never be a fairy because you're already real. This skin . . . " He traces my scars with his fingers, then suddenly leans forward to kiss them.

I gasp and he looks up and smiles at me. "This skin is real. This body is real. This heart that I hear beating, much faster by the way, tells me you're real."

I stare at him wide-eyed and he laughs. "If you weren't real then I wouldn't want to kiss you. I wouldn't want to shake you when you do stupid stuff. I wouldn't be planning to go into Preventers tomorrow and beat the crap out of the last guy that partnered you."

"Don't do that." I tell him, picturing him leaving me in a swirl of snowflakes and missed kisses. He raises an eyebrow and I try to find the words I want to say. "I still have a week off. You can kick his ass next week. For now . . . "

He nods and leans in to kiss me again. "For now I'll stay. And I'll show you just how real you are."