Chapter 16:
Heero closed the door to his apartment softly behind him then locked it almost hesitantly. Another get together that held no progress, that felt empty. Just trying to pretend that things were OK. He let himself lean against the door for support for a moment before pushing himself inside. He'd ate almost nothing at the restaurant and was now hungry, or at least his body demanded food. His throat felt tight but maybe he could force something down.
He opened the fridge and started at the scant contents. Some carrots, a head of lettuce that didn't look as though it was fairing too well, a twelve pack of beer and a couple of eggs… Duo would've been able to throw something together—thrown a feast together from the meager offerings.
Heero checked the cupboard and found a lone pack of instant ramen. He determinedly grabbed a pot, filled it with water and tossed it on the stove. Standing over it as he waited for it to boil, the feeling of strong, wiry arms going around his waist, the brush of bangs next to his cheek, a sharp chin sat upon his shoulder and the feeling of warm breath in his ear hit him so hard, felt so real that Heero reached for the arm that wasn't there. When he was met with nothing he stood, still shocked, oblivious to the boiling water on the stove until he felt a drop land on his arm.
He jumped as if scalded, but it wasn't water from the stove, he found as he touched his face. It was tears. It was becoming an almost daily occurrence. It was still so strong, the sense that Duo was there. Over a year since Duo had held him that way. God, why hadn't the memories faded? How was it possible that they were still so strong?
How much had those same memories faded for Duo? How could he offer such a carefree smile when they met in the halls? How could he have forgotten when the memories were still so damned powerful?
Heero hadn't felt himself sink to the floor and didn't hear the pot as it boiled over. The once perfect soldier couldn't hear anything but the heartbroken sound of his own sobs echoing in his ears, body trembling with the force of them.
Why couldn't he move on? Why couldn't he be happy?
His sobs degenerated into near hysterical laughs as those questions taunted him. He knew. Of course he knew. He'd never really been happy before Duo and now that Duo was with someone else, he had no idea how to be happy anymore. Duo was his happiness, his strength, his heart—his hope. Duo was his future, his everything. He'd not realized how much so until Duo wasn't there anymore.
But now Duo was back… and he was happy…but he was happy with Zechs. Zechs, who didn't need him. Zechs, who had Noin. Zechs, who had no idea just how blessed he was to have Duo and wouldn't treat him with half of the love and respect that Heero did.
He had the sudden image of Zechs at a stove and Duo coming up behind him, slipping his arms around the other man's waist, popping his head between the man's body and his elbow—the thought caused such a violent reaction he was almost sick.
There had to be a way to get Duo back—there just had to.
Because Heero was not moving on. In fact, did not want to move on. He wanted his beloved back, clung stubbornly to that fraction of a hope that there was some way to change him back and change him back soon. Because living with this unending pain would soon become unbearable.
Without Duo, there was no future, but it seemed that to Duo, there was no past. Which left Heero just trying to survive from one instant to the next. It wasn't living, it was barely existing and he was quickly running out of the energy to keep it up—the will to.
Heero had no idea what would happen when he lost it. He just hoped that when it went, it would take the pain with it. That, maybe, he could live with. He'd have to… for his sanity's sake…
There had to be an end to this. There had to be. He was not some idealistic little girl dreaming for her prince on a white horse. His own comparison sparked his anger. He had never been unrealistic before. He had never been one to wallow in anything. He had certainly never wallowed in his pain. He felt it, dealt with it, then moved on.
He wasn't moving on now. And it was Duo's fault. Before Duo, none of this would've been a problem. If it weren't for Duo, he wouldn't be going through this, and neither would he be dragging Relena through it with him. Of course, if it weren't for Duo, he probably wouldn't have cared whether or not he dragged Relena through anything. But she was a big girl now anyway, no one dragged her through anything she didn't let them. Why had he even thought that he had any influence over what anyone else did? People were individuals, dammit. They did as they would. His thinking was warped because Duo had warped it.
And damn him for screwing up all of Heero's hard won control. Who the hell did he think he was, trying to change another individual? That wasn't his place! It wasn't anyone's damned place!
Heero pushed himself off the floor and grabbed the pot off the stove, throwing it forcefully at the sink, the little water remaining splashing out over the counter and a little spattering back at him. Heero ignored it. It was just physical pain. Everyone knew he did not have a problem with physical pain. And he shouldn't be reduced to crying by that capricious little bastard! He wrenched open the fridge and grabbed a beer, slamming the door with enough force to shake the whole unit.
He was glad the stupid street rat was with Zechs now. Let the prince deal with the pauper. He opened the can and took a long drink before slamming it down on a clear counter. The bottom crumpled, but fairly well. They deserved each other. The can was crushed in his fist, spilling the sticky alcohol all over his hand. Heero glowered at the thing in disgust and threw it as the sink as well, shaking his hand violently to get the beer off it. Goddamned, ungrateful little thief! To hell with him! If he never heard the name… never thought of the face of Duo Maxwell again, it would be too soon!
Heero leaned on the sink and met his eyes in the mirror. His mind supplied Duo's habit of slipping up behind him and Heero slammed his fist into the mirror where Duo's face would've been if the brat had been behind him. He looked at the cuts on his hand and growled.
Damn him anyway.
TBC
Note: thanks to everyone who reviewed, and especially thanks to Skeren Dreamera and Silverrosefox who kept bugging me. Desolo is not dead, and there is now an end in sight. The only promise I have is that I still intend it to be a 6x2, all other bets are off. bows deeply Thank you so much for helping me keep my story alive.
