Therapy
by Jason Resno
AN: Since I left you waiting so long you guys get an extra long chapter!
Sweat began to pearl at his brow and he could swear they all heard the hammering of his heart somehow.
The microphone shook slightly in his hand but the motion went largely unnoticed by the small crowd.
In the back Relena gave a catcall which met a scattered applause.
From a stool three feet away a few elegant and resonant notes were birthed from the beautifully cared for acoustic guitar that young Quatre treated as his own child.
His gentle eyes were half closed and staring into a different place. His foot lightly tapped along to the rhythm he was setting. His sandy blond hair obscured the lines in his brow.
From the other end of the stage the unmistakable thud of the bass guitar arose.
With his unibang in all its glory Trowa continued to build on the rhythm. His beautiful face slightly canted in an imitation of utmost concentration.
Which was completely a show, mind you. Trowa Barton could play near anything with his eyes closed and one hand in his lap.
From directly behind the three men came the thud and crack of a dark and heavy beat. This was pounded out by the Perfect Soldier himself. His strong and broad shoulders were crammed into a tight wife beater. His hair was gone from its perfect styling and instead seemed to move to and fro of its own along with his head movements.
Then Duo brought the mic to his mouth. He swallowed and glanced down at the scrabbled lyrics.
The song was called "Wild Wing". He had written it on the way to the bar. The other guys had written music together during his convalescence and they needed someone to add vocals to it.
Wufei had refused adamantly despite his strong voice saying that his true power was in a ring, not behind a microphone.
So here he was. Heartbroken but recovering. On a stage in front of twenty or thirty people gazing blankly at him.
In the back of the room he caught smiles from Relena and Catherine. He smiled weakly and then plunged in to the flow of the music.
The world seemed to turn to mist and float in technicolor mist all around them. Collectively their four hearts beat into one common objective.
Music. Life. Love. Friendships. Nothing mattered or could matter during those four minutes.
A deep exhalation. Everything could be alright.
The braided youths eyes closed and his voice hoarsely came to a close. Quatre continued to play a sweet and melancholy guitar rhythm. The room seemed to spin around him. Everything was at once too bright and too beautiful.
He clipped the mic back on its stand and began walking off the stage. Catherine made to stand up to walk after him but Relena touched her arm gently.
From the stage Heero watched his friend go. Under his breath he muttered, "Finally."
GUNDAM WING
Outside of the club the stars were fighting with the lights of the city.
Duo looked down from the sky to the broken sidewalk under his feet. He breathed out and breathed in. The streets seemed empty.
And then he heard it. It sounded like the breaking of a glass bottle and then a scream.
Instinct kicked in as he sprinted towards the source.
GUNDAM WING
"You really don't think we should go after him?"
"Music is therapy to him, Cathy. He's out there thinking his stuff through."
Quatre responded firmly but the gentle clasp on her hand remained that way.
Heero tipped back a bottle of beer and then nodded, "Winner is right. Let him sort himself out."
The perfect soldier leaned over and pecked Relena on the cheek.
"Sometimes," Heero began. "You just have to rely on yourself."
The blond woman next to him raised an eyebrow. Heero didn't notice.
GUNDAM WING
The alley was dark and glass was crunching under his feet. The stench of garbage was thick.
He was across the street in an alley neighboring one of the various clubs in this section of town. He could hear the drum and bass through the concrete walls.
In the shadows cast by a street light Duo could see two people outlined on the concrete wall, just around the corner.
They were standing so close their forms almost blended into one larger shadow.
For a moment he questioned whether he should continue. They were probably just a drunk couple having fun.
But that scream...
He steeled himself and walked slowly, semi crouched, towards the bend in the alley.
Then he heard it. A whimpering and pathetic moan followed by the unmistakable sound of flesh smacking against flesh.
"Please...no..."
The voice was tinny and almost inaudible.
"What's so different now?"
Each word was clipped and interspersed with panting.
"I can't...can't do this anymore."
She was fighting to breath.
Suddenly Duo was around the corner. He didn't stop to take in the sight of Hilde pressed up against the brick wall, her skirt hiked up about her waist, and he certainly didn't stop to let the man pull his pants up.
"I'm always comin' at the wrong time, huh guy?"
The man, still engrossed in the memories of pleasure, was sluggish in his response. And probably wasted.
"Oh piss off she doesn't want you."
Those were the wrong words.
Duo saw red.
Maybe in a fair and sober fight the guy would have stood a chance. He had muscle and looked like he was prone to scrapping.
But Duo was pissed and ready to unleash. It was over before it realy began.
The man took an unsteady step towards Duo, heedless of his own nudity, and took a wild drunken swing.
The braided man dodged it lazily and swung in to feed the blonde a jaw cracking upper cut.
He flew backwards and was momentarily pressed to a dirty brick wall.
Behind him Duo vaguely heard Hilde cry out, "Don't kill him!"
He decided he'd heed that request. You didn't have to kill a man in order to cripple him.
Suddenly his strength fled him. His fists fell to his sides and slowly unclenched.
The man was on the ground in front of him curled into a pitiful ball. His jaw hung loose on his face. Probably broken. His eyes were half closed. Passed out from pain or drink, Duo suddenly didn't care.
Behind him Hilde had composed herself. At least that is to say she was fully clothed now.
He glanced once into her eyes and almost felt a stirring in his heart.
She was dressed for the clubs. A mini skirt and halter top. Her hair was wild from the night and her make up was smeared slightly on her face. Bags were heavy under her eyes and he thought he could see a bruise or two.
Even then Duo couldn't think of a girl more beautiful.
He shook his head and started to walk away. "Call your friend an ambulance."
The words came out monotone, dead.
As he turned his broad back on her he heard a sob, and then crying.
His heart clenched and he attempted to steel himself to it. For a moment he childishly hoped she felt every ounce of pain she deserved.
But he wasn't that guy and he never would be.
His steps stopped and he turned. She leaned against the wall and begun to sink down to the dirty ground.
He just couldn't leave her like this.
Striding back to her he resolved to find out. Why this had happened.
She was even worse off than he imagined. Crumpled on the ground she looked even smaller and more pitiful. The purse he had bought her for Christmas was clutched tightly to her breast.
He offered her his hand. She looked at it, then at him, and took it gingerly as if it might suddenly dissapear.
On her feet the top of her head came to just under his whiskery chin. She looked thin.
For a moment they just shared the silence of the night. Then Duo had to know.
"Why?"
The word came out almost a whisper. In that one syllable there housed volume upon volume of pain and anguish. It was all her fault, and she knew it.
A pause.
"I guess you deserve to know."
Her voice was sweet in his ears. He almost smiled. he had been starving to see and hear her again. But now was not the time to blindly forgive. No. he had to know.
She waited to be prompted again, realized she wouldn't be, and continued.
"I went out to club once. You were at work."
It was almost an accusation.
"And I got drunk. I found Scott and he took advantage of me back at his apartment. I got home and passed out before you got off. You got caught up working late."
His mind began to reel with the revelation that this had been going on longer than he had thought. He had to stay rational.
"At first he was sweet. He'd listen to what I had to say, to my complaints, and do whatever I wanted to do."
She pursed her lips. "It wasn't always sex."
For some reason Duo felt more hurt by the fact that they met up for more than sex. It made sense that they'd do more than that.
"Then he started to push to come to my--our--apartment. Then I told him about you. Of course he was furious. He threatened me at first. Then you. Then he just began to start drinking. I told him I wanted to end what we had."
Her voice was constricting and the words came out hoarse.
"He hit me. With an open hand and not even that hard, but he did it. He said if I didn't at least take him to the apartment once, he would kill me."
Despite himself he found that his body was moving forward to wrap his arms around her. He stilled himself. Too soon.
"So I brought him over. You were supposed to work late. I thought he'd leave me after I did this last thing for him."
"Why would you think that?"
His words were pained and forced through a tight throat.
"I don't know. I just did. Duo, I know I was stupid. I was wrong."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She bowed her head and he saw tears begin to well up. "At first...things seemed better. He acted like he really cared for me. And he was always willing to shirk off work to see me."
Duo swallowed hard. "You don't regret it do you?"
She appeared genuinely shocked and hurt, "How could you think that? I'd take it all back if I could. It's just..."
She looked up into his face. "You were never around. Duo, I'm sorry."
He nodded stiffly and turned to walk away.
She grabbed his arm.
"Could you ever forgive me?"
"No."
The lie came out easy. The anguish in his voice probably helped convince her.
He left her there.