A/N: Duo decides to clear the air.


Chapter 40


"We're married because I love you, Duo."

... Heero loves me?

I almost wanted to laugh.

The relationship between Heero and his former spouse had been hardly more than a few lines in the novel. Given as a short monologue from Heero and further supported several pages later in throwaway comments from a couple of servants, the only real takeaway was that Heero had been mistreated by the person he'd married.

It explained the cold heart that Relena had spent several chapters thawing and opening, explained why Heero treated her harshly in one moment, kindly the next; Heero Yuy was a man unused to love, and being treated so poorly by his first spouse, he had to be won over by the woman he would soon adore.

Heero Yuy had agreed to marry the Maxwell's second-born son for political reasons. The idea may have been germinated and agreed upon by his late father and current father-in-law, but the purpose had been carried out regardless. A marriage built on political ties had no claims on love, and I was fairly sure the former Duke Yuy had little care for Heero's emotional ties. If he did, he surely would have found someone better suited for his son.

"I love you, Duo. I love you, " Heero swore, falling to his knees to grasp clawing fingers into the hem of my robe.

If this - Heero saying he loved me - came from anyone else, I would have thought it a misunderstanding at best, a cruel joke at worst. The ignorant me, who had wanted Heero's love - even for that fleeting moment - would have been happy to hear such words before. The me now , however, who understood that love was the last thing that could ever comprise our relationship - just wanted to laugh.

Does Heero even understand what he's saying? Loving me entails more than just loving the person who wrote him letters while he was on the expedition, who talked about new inventions and got along with his friends; it was also loving the person who mocked his parentage, who threw away his gifts simply because they came from him, who treated him and his loved ones cruelly for no reason but that he could.

"You don't," I stated, and could not help the hollow quality to my voice. I felt set adrift in my own mind, untethered and in pain; a dull throb echoed from the cavity of my chest, as if some ice-cold hand had scooped my heart right out. "You don't love me."

Heero was just confused. Being treated coldly for so long before he left, and then suddenly treated so kindly upon his return - it was just an unintentional but no less sickening carrot-and-stick. We didn't have what was between Trowa and Quatre, or Wufei and Meilan; trust could not be bought after I'd been sold for a pretty penny, love could not be grown from the ash-crusted soil wHeRE I hAd DiEd.

Heero was kind, and pure, and fuLL Of sO mUch NaiVEte for things that did not involve a traditional battlefield - it made him an easy victim of conditioning. His father's treatment of Heero's mother had been considered love , and she'd died alone and isolated from everyone but her son and estranged lover. I had undermined nearly everything Heero believed in, and he thought a few kind words and sexual advances were love.

Heero could be convinced anything was love, no matter how twisted it was in reality.

Heero did not love his first spouse. How could he, given how awfully he was treated? The cold and harsh rejections he put Relena through for the first half of the novel was because Heero knew only how to care for his friends and his soldiers; the kind of romantic, all-encompassing love that could reduce a proud man to his knees was something that could never happen to Heero. Even in the novel, he'd confessed his feelings to Relena through a flower - an iris, the symbol of hope. He'd never said the words, but the feelings were understood when he protected her, when he took care of her, when he'd agreed to marry her.

Heero did not love his first spouse.

Heero could not love his first spouse, because there was nothing there to love.

I thought myself too tired for any strong emotion. However, looking at Heero now, I felt the choking heat scorch the back of my throat, felt the way the air thinned in my lungs and tears pricked in my eyes.

Fingers grasped at me even harder, a tighter pull of the fabric. Despite this, I did not move away - I felt like I couldn't, as shaking Heero off now just seemed intolerably cruel. The way his dark blue eyes looked at me was searing, almost furious, and something about his expression contorted my own.

"I love you," Heero repeated.

Absurdly, I wanted to laugh. Unintentionally or not, Heero was really adept at rubbing salt in the wounds. I eyed the way he clung to me, the way he looked at me - it felt wrong, to be looking down at him like this. As if I were better in some way, for not having the heart to fall into the illusion he was so desperately grasping for.

Dark blue eyes haltingly raised to peer into mine, earnest for my understanding, for reciprocity. If love was so simple, so easy to give - I would have given it to Heero in an instant, if that was what he'd really wanted. But Heero did not find what he was looking for in my eyes, and the grip he had on my clothes became more desperate.

"Don't beg," I told him tonelessly. Don't beg for something that you will get from someone else. Heero would get all of the love he deserved from a woman who would never hurt him, who would never put him through this farce. She would teach him what it meant to love, freely and purely, something neither his father nor myself had even been capable of doing.

"Duo," Heero croaked out, eyes falling back to my feet as he bowed his head. The very intonation of my name was twisted with pain, steeped in so much longing that it was nearly unrecognizable. " I love you. That's why I married you. Why can't you believe me?"

The rage was startling in its intensity. I thought feeling adrift for so long had numbed me to such extremes, but Heero's question burned the moment the words left his lips. "Believe you? Believe you?" I echoed, dimly aware of the hysterical laugh bubbling up in my throat. It didn't matter. "Do you even believe yourself?!"

I bent down to grab his clutching hands. I wanted to yank him up back to his feet, back to where we could look each other in the eye instead of in this ridiculous play of irony, where For oNCe hE wAS bELoW mE.

Instead, I shoved him away from me. Despite my lack of strength, Heero fell back, no longer grasping at the edges of me. It still felt as if I were falling to pieces regardless.

"What love?!" I demanded. "Our families married us for political power! Your friends could barely tolerate me! You did not even lay with me on our wedding night! The only thing you spent on me was money - not time, not conversation!" Where does he get the nerve to act so desperate? To plead so fervently? In just over a year, he would be madly in love with someone else - whereas I would be nothing but ash! "What part of that was love?!"

Heero's eyes were wide and anguished. "Duo-"

Solo had been right when he'd wondered if Heero understood the price he'd paid for me. I was not docile or easily misled like the miserable Aoi Clark, who gave up her freedom for something too cruel to be considered love. If I was a blaze he wished to smother, then I would try my damnedest to make sure he scarred from the burns of handling me.

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare say you love me!" I shouted, cutting him off ruthlessly. "You mistake gifting trinkets and jewels to me with love! You would sooner give me flowers before ever giving me yourself!"

"You have always had me! " Heero surged to his feet, expression twisted somewhere between wretched and imploring. "The moment we met- Before you even knew me as your fiance- I have loved you!"

The words didn't make sense, did not fit this version of reality. There was a roaring in my ears and a chasm in my chest, and everything hurt in such a way that I knew it would never get better. I could practically taste the smoke in my lungs.

"I know what your father considered love," I hissed, the words sour on my tongue. "And you are so much your father's son."

Heero flinched back.

Telling someone he loved them, that he wanted to protect them - keeping them locked away, keeping them isolated and unknown, to die alone in an empty house with a child who could have had so much more. Was that what Heero considered love? Was that what Heero wanted for me? I had spent every waking moment alone, surrounded by luxury and people who could barely stand the sight of me, a shameful shackle that could be so quickly forgotten.

"Duo, I would never… Never do that to you."

The laugh in my throat finally escaped, each bubbling gasp of it so painful that I felt an edge of nausea. Heero may not have intended to, but the footsteps he'd followed in were such a well-worn trail in the end. The cage had not been removed, only made more decorated but no less isolating.

"And yet you still managed to accomplish it!" I gasped out in a breath too awful to be a chuckle. "In the end, I still would have died alone, in an empty building that may as well have been my casket!"

That's what that greenhouse should have been - the end of this miserable affair, my body and our history reduced to nothing more than ashes. The soil would have replenished itself with what I had been, leaving more room for new growth - for Heero to find the love that we had both been denied.

"Duo," Heero's voice was laced with agony. It hurt, didn't it, to discuss the absolute torture of our relationship? This relationship that Heero had so pitifully labeled love, had believed could be reshaped into something more palatable if we just buried it under kinder words and soothing touches.

I had wanted love too, you know?

I wanted more than just to be kept warm and safe, cherished like some fragile bauble. I had wanted someone who listened to me, whether I ranted or rambled; someone who cherished me no matter how miserable I became; someone who respected me no matter whether I was adorned in jewels or rags. I wanted to spend time with someone who wanted to be near me, I wanted someone to understand my flaws and resentments, to tell me when I got out of line but loved me regardless.

Heero could not love me, because my very presence was an obstacle to the love that already awaited him.

"You don't love me," I repeated bitterly. "If you did, I never would have wanted to burn to death in that greenhouse."

A greenhouse built solely for me, the only thing that had kept my hope kindled for as long as it did. If Heero had despised me, that plot of land would have remained nothing - but if there had been something, some small part of him that could grow to adore me, then the greenhouse could have been considered proof of that.

But just like the flowers that kept flourishing, unmoved by the seasons that marked the passage of time, Heero's indifference remained. It did not matter how I acted, whether it was in fury or in misery, the greenhouse flowers bloomed and Heero's regard stagnated.

Hands grabbed my upper arms in a bruising hold, ripping me from the tangled vine of my thoughts. Heero's face was suddenly all I could see, and the sight of it strangled the laugh in my throat so that I fell silent. His dark blue eyes were bloodshot, wild and horrified in a way I had never seen before, his expression twisted into something so distressed that I felt myself jolt.

"What did you say?" Heero gasped out, voice choked with what I recognized as a stifled sob. "What did you just say?"

My words came to my mind immediately. "That you don't-" I stopped, my mind racing ahead of my mouth, as what I had just admitted came to the forefront.

If you did, I never would have wanted to burn to death in that greenhouse.

Duo Maxwell had died in an accidental fire. A lantern had fallen and caught the greenhouse plants aflame, cutting off the point of exit and smothering the Duchess in flame and smoke. It had been an accident, ruled as such by the trusted knights of the realm. The death had been a passing mention, warranting no more than a single paragraph of description.

I wasn't here when the fire happened. I had been in New York-

- - -The lantern had been cold to the touch.- - -

It had been raining, cars lined in bumper-to-bumper traffic-

- - -Finally, I had thought. Let it end.- - -

I had been struck and killed by-

- - -"0re y0u s0re?"- - -

I wasn't here during the fire. The book had labeled it an accident.

So why...

- - -"I'm sure," I answered, the lantern light flickering back to life as my fingertips rested on its translucent panes.- - -

Why could I remember pushing the lantern over?

"Duo!"

Heero's voice was a shock - he shouldn't be here. He was supposed to be gone for months, accepting another expedition to settle disputes along the barbarian territories, preferring battle over spending any time with me-

"Duo, what's wrong?" Heero's face swam in front of my eyes, and I realized suddenly I wasn't in the greenhouse, wreathed in firelight and dead flowers. I was in the Capital, in my room, Heero returned to my side only to inevitably leave me again-

I tore myself out of his grip, stumbling backwards as my feet crushed dead petals beneath me. My vision swam again, and Heero was no longer there - but someone was, watching me, quiet and still in the darkness that no light could pierce.

- - -"I will deny you nothing," 000000000 says. "Very well."

The lantern blazes back to life, and I understand what I must do - so I press my fingertips against the cool glass, hesitating for only a breath under ever-watchful eyes before I finally push it over the table's edge.

Finally, I thought. Let it end.

My eyes burn, but not from the smoke, and there is a dull roaring in my ears from the flames as they rage within the confines of their altar, shattering the glass and scouring over every floral offering. Gentle fingers card through the length of my hair, the strands flowing unbidden into a braid, and then my legs can no longer hold me but I do not fall - and am instead lowered, softly and carefully, to the ashen ground.

Distantly, I can hear screaming. "...please, Duo! NO!"- - -

"What's wrong with him?" Wufei's voice was snappish, inexplicably close.

I am being carefully cradled, no longer laid out on dying embers but instead held in arms taut with tension. "He collapsed," Heero replied curtly, and I realized that the darkness obscuring my vision was not because of the smoke but because my eyes were closed.

I opened them. It took me several moments before I could reorient myself, before I could understand what I was seeing: Heero was the one holding me, both of us on the floor of my Capital estate bedroom. There were a handful of people around us; Wufei was kneeling next to me, my limp wrist held in his hand as he gauged my pulse, Meilan hovering just behind him. Quatre was leaned against Trowa standing some paces away, face wan and hand clutched over his heart, and for some reason I thought he should be gasping for breath.

"Your Grace, you need to calm your breathing," Wufei's voice snapped me back to attention.

I was seconds away from hyperventilating. "I fucking know," I gritted out, trying to remember how to breathe right. There is tense silence aside from Wufei's controlled voice as I time my breaths to his counting, and awareness seeped into me with dull-edged pain.

I remembered the night other-me died.

"Duo," Heero breathed out tremulously. "Are you alright?"

I shuddered in his arms, our previous conversation coming back to me in disjointed snippets. I had hurt him, over and over, and yet he was still so good- why was he always so good to me? "I didn't mean it," I told him, eyes stinging. "Heero, I didn't mean it."

Heero gently stroked my hair with trembling fingers. "I know, Duo," he soothed me quietly. "It's okay, I know."

My head felt full of cotton. I wanted to struggle out of his hold to look him in the eye, wanted to assure him that I- that I hadn't-

- - -"I'm sure."- - -

I threw myself out of Heero's hold, dislodging Wufei's hand as I fell to my hand and knees. I wanted to retch but there was nothing in my stomach to expel, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. I was left staring at the cold floor for only a moment longer before Heero pulled me back to him, turning me around and crushing me to his chest so that I could hear the rapid beating of his heart.

"No," I mumbled feverishly into his warmth. I would never have thrown away a life Father Maxwell and Sister Helen worked so hard to raise- what would Helena say, to see me in such a sorry state? "No, I didn't…"

I diDn'T wANt tO dIE.

I don't understand - these memories are not mine! I woke up here in the soft bed of the Duchess, I'd never known what the greenhouse looked like before it was reduced to wreckage. So why could I remember the vines that clung to its frame? The fragrant blooms, the sticky heat? How could I remember the shelves of tools, the sturdy table where I rested the lantern next to the small box of misshapen beads?

I remembered New York; I remembered the greenhouse.

I don't remember dying.

"I didn't want to die," I said.

Heero's ministrations froze, as did everyone else in the room - a collective intake of breath as I tried to gather the scattered mess of my mind. I didn't feel fully conscious, fully aware; it was as if I was caught in a waking dream, trying to make sense of something very far away - like putting a mural together with only a faint recollection of what it should look like.

"I didn't want to die," I insisted quietly. "I just… I just wanted you to love me."

I think I could almost understand Aoi Clark. To sit, quiet and complacent, for even a glimpse of that love that had made all that misery worth it - perhaps that fleeting gift would have been enough to make me content. A dearth of terrible loneliness for just a sliver of happiness.

BuT I waS NOt bUiLt LIKE thAT, noT RAISeD To WAIt qUieTly anD besEEchiNGLy.

"I just wanted you."

Heero let out a small, heart-breaking noise. He crushed me further into his chest as he let out a shuddering breath, and then loosened his hold. Keeping one arm behind my back and dragging me slightly forward to put another arm under my knees, he swept me up and climbed back to his feet.

"We need a moment alone," he told the others.

There were lingering glances as they shuffled out but no one argued, obedient to the last. Just before the door closed on their retreating steps, I made out Hilde's figure waiting just beyond - dark eyes on me before she was obscured by the wood as it shut.

Heero moved back over to the bed, placing me down atop the soft sheets. I did not cling to him despite everything inside of me telling me to, but some part of him must have recognized my reluctance - because he quickly pulled off his boots and climbed in beside me. I willingly crawled back into his embrace when he opened his arms to me, head tucked just under his chin as I curled my fingers into the fabric of his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Heero," I told him again. "I'm so sorry. I'm-"

I'm all fucked up. I didn't want to die.

I meant to.

"You don't need to apologize, Duo," Heero told me softly.

He reached down, pulling the hair tie from my braid and gently undoing it. His fingers carded down my scalp and through the strands, soothing me with every brush of his fingers. I laid in his arms, sick with a feverish ache but feeling safe as I soaked in Heero's comfort.

"Duo… You asked me why we married. May I explain?"

I curled more into him. "Does it matter?"

"...Yes," Heero murmured. "I think it matters, Duo, because we matter. May I?"

I wanted to tell him not to bother. I wanted to say that I didn't have the energy to hear, to think about it; that maybe it was better left unknown after all, that maybe my assumptions would be enough. After all, whatever Heero told me would be the truth, wouldn't it? And after I knew that… There was no more lying to myself.

"Okay," I said instead.

Heero shifted slightly, keeping me leaned against his chest as he rested against the headboard. One hand kept up its repetitive stroking down the length of my hair; the other wriggled down to my lap where my hand rested, slotting his fingers between my own.

"We did not know each other well before our betrothal, we couldn't really be considered anything but acquaintances… But my eyes followed you whenever we were in the same vicinity."

Heero tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind my ear. "And it was your brother who noticed," he admitted. "I thought he meant to tease or threaten, but he- he didn't. He saw the way I looked at you and correctly guessed my feelings. And then he told your father."

I felt a cold shiver go down my spine.

"Months later, your father approached mine with the offer of marriage between us. My father thought it was the result of my accomplishments in battle, or just the fruition of their friendship finally proving useful…"

"...But?" I prompted.

"But I was not sure. I was accomplished in fighting but my position in noble social circles was still very weak; I would be a poor partner to you." A soft inhale, a pause as Heero thought over his next words. "I...was reluctant. I knew a marriage you did not choose would be against your wishes, and I…"

And he didn't want to be hated by me.

I felt my heart squeeze. "So your father made you..?"

"No," Heero negated quickly. "I agreed. Your father… He made it clear that if I was not a possible spouse, then the King of Oz would be the next suitable partner."

I choked. So if Heero had not agreed to marry me… I would have been sold off to another kingdom? There was no guarantee of safety there, either - removed from the place I knew and the laws I understood, to a kingdom that was more often an enemy than a friend to the home that raised me.

Heero had married me to protect me.

This was so much worse.

At least if our marriage had been because of politics, then that gave me some power; I was at least useful. But if I had been married in order to be protected, then wasn't I just a weakness? An ungrateful thorn in Heero's side, who filled the blister to the point of infection-

"Duo, look at me."

At Heero's gentle command, I came back to awareness. Once more on the verge of sicking up, I tried to focus on the warmth of his hand in mine, on the gentle motions of his hand in my hair. With stilted breath, I angled my head enough to meet his gaze.

"Our betrothal was not our first meeting," Heero said softly. "When I first arrived in the Capital, I was 15 years old. My father had kept me in the Yuy duchy before then, so this was the first time I would be introduced to polite society."

'Introduced' to polite society was not something as extravagant as the debut of a young lady or dandy; for young male nobles or dames, this just meant the first time they went to a party or a hunt where they could mingle with other nobles from outside of the confines of their territories.

Heero's thumb stroked over a small patch of skin on the top of my hand. "We'd - my father and I - been invited to a hunt hosted by Duke Noin's daughter, Lucrezia. It was a smaller hunt and meant to be for fun, not competition, so my father believed it would be a good way to introduce myself to other nobles my age."

Given that the Yuy duchy held a preference for sport over the more artistic disciplines, and that the former Duke Yuy favored pastimes that honed Heero's skills rather than pursuits that offered some comfort - it was obvious why Odin had chosen a hunt. With it being hosted by one of Sanc's most prominent families, whose heir was engaged to the Crown Prince, then if Heero left a good impression, he could build a more politically secure connection.

"It didn't work out the way my father intended," Heero noted dryly. I winced as he continued, "Marquis Septum's son only managed a pheasant, which the Crown Prince considered a consolation prize for the inept. He was more impressed with the fox I'd caught - and that upset the others.

"They acted well enough when the Prince was near, but once he'd wandered back to the estate with his fiance, they let their words flow freely," he recalled. "The insults were unimaginative but never-ending, but I knew that if I left, they would see it as me fleeing. So I stood there and waited."

I could imagine it. Heero had to have been called all sort of things, first behind his back and then eventually to his face; a gaggle of teenage boys, who had golden spoons shoved so far up their asses with servants who could deny them nothing, would of course think nothing of flinging such smears into Heero's face.

"And that's when I met you."

I blinked. "...What? But-" But we- Heero had not met other-me until their engagement, as far as I had been aware!

"We officially met during our betrothal," Heero answered the question I could not manage. "But that was not the first time we met."

I looked up - catching the slight upturn of his lips. "You came storming over, rebuffing their insults and sneers. You told them off, saying that you doubted they could hunt their own game even if it was lying right in front of them with an arrow bolt in it," Heero stated, face softening. "I think you were angry about being kept waiting outside so long. It was very humid out."

I supposed I wasn't allowed to wait inside if the Hunt was going on; I'd heard from Lady Aurora that it was tradition to wait outside if the hunt was to be short, although the Capital Hunt was the exception. If this was just a friendly game between a small number of nobles, then I would have been required to partake in tea with the other ladies and dandies while we waited for Heero and the others to return.

"Gwinter Septum grew very upset and threatened to shoot you with the crossbow," Heero recounted. "You dared him to. You slowly counted out each step you took towards him - but he never shot. I think he knew that if he did, he wouldn't be making it out of those woods that day."

Solo must have been there that day as well. It made sense; although older than Heero, he was close enough in age to the Crown Prince and Duke Lucrezia, so it would be remiss to not invite him. A Marquis's family had no hope of surviving the ire of a Duke's family, and if Gwinter had taken that shot - the crime would pale in comparison to the sociopolitical repercussions.

"They ran. They could not physically harm you, and they had no hope of defeating you with words - so they fled," Heero said. "But I- stayed. As did you."

Heero shifted slightly, one hand pressed with feather-light pressure to the side of my head to keep it tucked under his chin. His breath ghosted over the top of my scalp with each exhale, and he felt alive under me. I imagined him as he must have been then - sun-kissed and beaded with the sweat of exertion, fox fur tucked just of sight in his game sling, standing lean in strong in the summer sun.

"You told me that the next time they insulted my mother like that, I should just smack their heads together since there was nothing useful inside," Heero continued with a breathless chuckle. "Then you tried to run further into the woods."

"Where was I going?"

Heero snorted, "In the opposite direction of your family."

Well, that made sense.

"There was no large prey out, but I didn't want to run the risk of you getting lost so I followed you," he continued. "You were very vocal about how little you appreciated the escort."

I felt my face heat in an embarrassed flush. Had I also insulted Heero's birthright, after just reprimanding others for doing the same? It had been a common enough insult I'd slung around after our marriage, but did that mean it had started back then?

"I doubt that was much fun for you," I choked out.

Another snort. "You carried on for over an hour about how you marveled I was able to hunt anything in such ugly boots before you tired yourself out," Heero said. "You ended up tripping over an old log and spraining your ankle, so I carried you back."

Why was this so embarrassing! "I thought you were going to explain why you married me?!"

"Duo, up until that moment, you were the only person that had never shied away from me aside from my parents."

I stilled.

Heero's hand was warm in mine. He pulled our interlocked fingers up towards his face, kissing the back of my hand with soft, warm lips.

"Our first meeting, and the only thing you took offense to was my footwear."

Another kiss, this time to one of my fingers.

"You were beautiful, but I did not know how to appreciate such things back then. All I could think about is how you were too weak to trek through the woods for any length of time - but brave enough to stand in front of someone threatening to hurt you and not back down."

Another kiss.

"I used to look for you at parties, at any gathering where I knew you would be in attendance. I couldn't explain, not at the time, why my eyes always looked for you," Heero mused, lips ghosting over another finger. "But if I hadn't been looking, then I would have never seen you in those moments of kindness."

Heero dragged his lips down to my palm, placing a lingering kiss there that I felt like a scorch mark. "You would place yourself between the aggressive and the timid, deflecting attention that was already so readily given. I'd never seen someone use beauty as a weapon like you did," he said, eyes fond as he placed a kiss to the pulse point on my wrist. "The moment someone in a position weaker than your own found themselves vulnerable, you inserted yourself like a shield over them."

His fingers ghosted over the underside of my chin, and I tilted my head up at the indication. Our faces were close but not touching, his fingers still stroking over my cheek with such gentle yearning that I felt electrified.

"I fell in love with you, Duo," Heero breathed out. "Not immediately, not all at once - but it started at the hunting party, and it grew piece by piece over time. Small things, as small as fleeting glances or short conversations, that showed me just a little bit more of who you are."

A greenhouse, so that the flowers I liked would always be readily available. Colorful garments and pretty jewels, so that I could distract others with my presence and use it as needed. Guards to monitor my wanderings so that I could be cared for when I grew tired.

Marriage, so that I could be kept safe and cherished.

Is this not love?

I closed the distance between our lips. It was not the hungry sort of kiss that we'd had before, where I tried to sear myself into him so that I would not be forgotten, so desperate to have him now as the knowledge of losing him later hung over me.

But I've had Heero - from that very first moment and every moment after.

His lips were warm on mine, a gentle pressure that spoke of adoration, of reverence. His fingers cupped my chin to more comfortably angle our faces together, his other hand at the back of my head. Heero was so warm, so good. His lips moved against mine, a shaky exhale before he started again. I felt the wet press of his tongue and met it earnestly, tasted Heero on my breath and felt his hands in my hair and on my skin.

"I love you," he promised me with every stuttered breath.

I wanted to tell him the same. That I did love him - maybe not from when he was just words on paper, maybe not from when I saw him arrive on horseback, maybe not even from when he stood silent and hardened in the face of unwarranted criticism - but perhaps, just like him, that was where it started.

It was love that built slowly and gradually, across smaller instances that piled up like precious gems. It was from the way he treated me gently, careful when he twined my hair between his fingers or held me close to his side. It was from the way his eyes rested on me, at times hungry or just adoring. It was from the way he spoke with me, not at me. It was from the way he listened to me, whether I spoke about machines or petty gossip. It was from the way he failed to match my steps in a simple waltz, from the way he teased me with increasingly forward flirtations, from the way he kissed me breathless.

We broke apart slowly, Heero pulling away from my lips but pressing our foreheads together. His fingers were cradling the back of my head, and he breathed shakily as his eyes found my own. There were times I could not get over just how beautiful Heero really was; dark-eyed and kiss-bruised, he cut an enchanting figure that I could never drink in enough.

"Heero… I'm sorry for hurting you." I love you.

He stroked my cheek with his free hand, still so close our breaths mingled. "I know."

"I'm sorry for the cruel things I said to you." I love you.

Another gentle touch, a quiet sigh. "I know."

"I'm sorry for not believing you." I love you.

He learned forward, briefly pressing his lips to my own once again. "I know."

I love you, I kept wanting to say, but only apologies could come out. I wanted to curl back into his arms, to take comfort in Heero's warmth and strength and love - but I was holding some part of myself back.

Doubtlessly, every part of me was in love with Heero. Everything, down to the last molecule, down to the last bit of my whatever constituted as my ghost, was in love with Heero. Of that, there was no question.

But who exactly was I comprised of?

I remembered the taste of the spoiled food I'd fish out of dumpsters. I remembered Sister Helen braiding my hair. I remembered the Maxwell Church burning.

I remembered the chill of the lantern. I remembered the box of beads, made from dead flowers aNd bLoOD. I remembered Hilde screaming over my body.

Duo Maxwell died in the streets of New York on a rainy day. He died with less than a month's rent in his bank account, several blocks away from a tiny studio apartment. He died working several odd jobs, doing whatever he could to make ends meet.

Duo Maxwell had a Master's in Mechanical Engineering.

Duo Maxwell died in a fire he started himself. He died without ever being touched by fire, unbothered by smoke, hearing nothing but the screams of Hilde Schbeiker calling him by name. He died as the Duchess of Yuy, desperate for love that had always been there.

Duo Maxwell woke up in a bed the following day.

I reached up, placing my hand atop Heero's from where it rested on my cheek. He had minute scarring over some of his fingers, the result of years of sword training and battle. I trailed my fingertips over his, relished the breathy exhale in response, before letting my fingers slide from his, down across my chin before they grazed the choker around my throat.

Who the hell am I?

And who was I - whoever that may be - speaking to that night in the greenhouse?

"I wasn't trying to kill myself in the greenhouse," I said aloud, giving voice to my thoughts. Heero's face moved slightly away at my words, his movements stilling to give me his proper attention. "I…"

I didn't want to die - but I wanted to destroy the greenhouse.

Heero dropped his hands from my face, running them down my arms in a nervous gesture that was only a glimmer in his eyes. He wrapped his hands around my own, fingers stroking over my thumbs once, then twice - seemingly gathering his resolve.

"Duo… Can you tell me about that night in the greenhouse?"

That night in the greenhouse, the memory of it disjointed but almost maddeningly clear in my mind - up until those last moments, when the lantern light flickered out and I was no longer alone among the flora.

When did Duo Maxwell end?

When did he begin?

I tightened my hold on Heero's hands, then let him go. I crawled out from the shelter of Heero's embrace, muscles weak from emotional and physical exhaustion. I pulled my loose hair around to one side, running a trembling hand through it before beginning to repetitive motions of gathering it together into a braid.

I met Heero's eyes and spoke, "This starts before that."

This starts from before I woke up in Sanc.


A/N: Okay, enough being sad now. Time for chaos.

Kudos to the readers (is this everyone? LOL) that guessed that Duo and Book!Duo were not exactly different people~

Please be kind and drop a review! :)