Fortnight
Ch 09 – Vicissitude
by APs
Betas – gothic-pixel and justanotheranimefreak (I honestly don't know how they put up with me.)
A/N – So, yes, this is the last chapter. An epilogue of sorts may be forthcoming, depending on interest and/or how much this sticks in my brain. The poem is Gifts by Sara Teasdale. I opened to anonymous reviews, not having realized they were closed.
I hope you enjoy! Now is the time to give me some love, or yell at me in frustration. Your call.
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All life is a manifestation of the spirit, the manifestation of love.
-Morihei Ueshiba
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This wasn't where Wufei wanted to be. The conference room was crowded, warm, and flooded with conversation, making even the large area oppressive. The fact that the gigantic banner hanging across a wall blatantly declared him one of the focuses of the gathering didn't help his mood. A steady stream of people had been presenting themselves to him all day, expressing well wishes for the future and regret at his leaving. Some even managed to meet his eyes.
He'd weathered it all, including Une's speech at the beginning of the after hours party, with great aplomb, so he thought. He had yet to even growl at a single ex-coworker, much less snap any necks. However, the berth everyone was giving him since evidenced his irritation. It was his last day and he wanted it to be over. He had already patiently served his month.
Staring out the window at the grey and the rain, he noticed a calm presence beside him and didn't have to look to know it was Trowa. He wasn't at all in the mood for games, "Yes, Barton?"
"The others sent me to get you," amusement brushed his tone like a blush, warm and barely visible on the surface.
Wufei's eyebrows arched, "You mean Winner sent you."
His taller friend tilted his head and took a hand from its pocket to make a vague gesture that it was the same thing.
Wufei snorted, but turned and motioned for his friend to lead on, "How are you healing?"
"Well." There was a pause as a green eye glanced toward him, "Everything seems nearly resolved."
"Good," the Chinese man bit out, staunchly ignoring the undercurrents.
That small mocking smirk was tugging at Trowa's lips, "Have you decided what you're going to do?"
"Une offered me a position in Training and Recruitment."
"And?"
Onyx eyes shifted back toward the windows, "I haven't decided."
He knew the other had nodded without looking. They entered one of the smaller side offices off the main conference room, usually reserved for those rare outsiders that periodically found themselves at Preventer briefings. The others were waiting.
"There you are," Duo drawled, hanging off Quatre and grinning like a fool, "I was just about to suggest a rescue party."
Heero harrumphed from where he sat at the stout table.
Wufei didn't miss the pale hand firmly holding Duo's free shoulder, or the slightly manic light in violet eyes as they darted from him and avoided Heero entirely. His gaze fell passively to Quatre, "You wanted something?"
The blond Arab smiled at him easily, "We wanted to give you your gifts."
"Gifts," the word trailed dubiously, as though he didn't trust it. He had thought they were past the 'office gifts' section of the evening, which had followed swiftly on the heels of Une's speech. She had taken his jacket, badge, and issued sidearm in exchange for a watch that was currently weighing down his pocket. Then, his fellow agents had presented him with a 'gag' gift of a voucher for a free course in flower arranging, the joke being that he now needed new hobbies. The laughter had died quickly under his cold stare, though he had found it privately amusing that he likely could teach the course himself.
Duo made an exaggeration of a rude noise, "Parting gifts."
Wufei looked back to the blond, who smiled and indulged in a shrug, "Trowa and myself are taking a short sabbatical."
"The circus is in 'Ayla," Trowa offered calmly, practically limpid, as he moved from Wufei's side to lean against the wall, closing their small circle. On the rare occasions Catherine's circus meandered its way through the desert, Trowa and Quatre took vacation. Guaranteed. With Trowa still recovering, it made sense. The prospect of seeing Cathy was one of the few things that truly cheered the ex-mercenary, cleared the cagey melancholy from his eyes. Time with Quatre was also on the short list. Time spent in the desert, with Trowa and the Maganac, would likewise do Quatre good.
With Trowa on Duo's other side and Wufei in front of the door, Quatre finally relinquished his hold on their braided friend to pick up the paper bag at his feet. Duo made an elaborate show of a stretch, but after eying his options, ended up with his arms crossed over his chest, feigning disinterest. After a moment, the blond produced a large jeweler's box and offered it to the American.
Violet eyes flicked between the present and the blond skeptically, "Am I going somewhere, Q?"
"Everyone gets something, Duo," Quatre assured, though his tone was a bit too knowing. It was an old custom. Quatre liked to mark special events with presents. Generally, expensive presents he would pass off as coming from all of them, though they all knew the truth.
"What about Tro?" Duo grumbled, jerking a thumb to his side.
The blond discreetly cleared his throat, "We already exchanged... tokens in private."
Duo seemed about to push the issue until Trowa nudged him firmly with his foot. The braided man broke, letting a sheepish smile cover his hesitance. With speed that belied the care of the action, the American opened the box and studied what he found inside. Wufei could make out the familiar form of a digital compass, a favored present of the Winner heir's. The blond was very fond of symbolism, especially in gifts. This particular one was matte black with white and gold accents. Wufei imagined the read out was a haunting emerald, much like on his own. It would be made of Gundanium, though damned if he knew how their Arab friend had managed it. When Duo finally looked up, he was grinning and scratching the back of his head, "Uh, thanks, man."
Quatre just smiled at him, then handed a similar box to Heero.
Their Japanese friend nodded as he accepted it and paused, deep blue considering Duo's open gift. Finally, he opened it and picked up the small device inside. It was no larger than a playing card and nearly as thin. As soon as he lifted it, a picture flicked on. A familiar picture of all of them, taken in Heero's hospital room after the Mariemaia Rebellion.
"It's a prototype," Quatre explained. "It's a secure, long distance gateway to the Winner Network and private servers. It also has all the program codes, should you feel like making any changes."
Heero hummed, already flicking through screens into the heart of the tiny machine. Heero never articulated his thanks, though the contented smile on his lips was unmistakable. No, the Japanese man would simply have presents for each of them when he returned. Heero's gifts were always small and personal, as though he were making up for all the little things he never said. Trowa's gifts were practical and timely, while Duo's tended toward the spontaneous and fun, often disposable. Wufei's giving practices could be summed up in a single word: appropriate. And, though he could find no real fault with the idea, it did seem suddenly cold by comparison.
His musings were abruptly halted by a fine wooden case, larger than the others, yet smaller than a shoe box. It had a small lock on the front from which a delicately wrought key projected. Wufei arched an eyebrow at the blond presenting it to him.
Quatre sighed, probably at the thought of their usual routine of decline and insistence, and smiled fondly, being direct, "Wufei, please just take it."
The Chinese man opened his mouth to object, but stopped himself. With a smirk and a bow, he accepted the case, twisted the key, lifted the lid... And stared. It felt like someone had punched him, like there was no air. His hands were white knuckled, clutching the case, but he felt weak, unstable. Somehow, he managed to force a whisper, "How?"
Quatre's voice answered, tinged with concern, "Heero found a picture and we all checked with our old black market contacts from the war. Duo got a hit and Trowa traced the art collections, then it was just a matter of procurement."
And no one was better at procurement than a Winner. He couldn't breath, couldn't take his eyes from it. It sat, nestled in the velvety depths of its case, gleaming, staring back at him with two sets of eyes. Wufei swallowed to wet his throat, but his voice cracked on the name anyway, "...Altron."
The other's must have been exchanging glances, silently conferring, because Duo's low gruff voice offered his opinion, "Why don't we give you a moment."
Wufei didn't answer, more concerned with carefully placing the case on the table so as not to drop the jade dragon inside. Once it was out of his hands, he breathed and blinked away the blur that had abruptly threatened his vision. Written on a card in the lid he had entirely missed was an inscription: ForoldMemories,newBeginnings,andForgiveness.
The silence must have been taken as agreement since the other ex-pilots all started to leave. Duo darted immediately. Heero looked to Quatre, who nodded slightly toward the door as Trowa began to steer him out by the shoulders.
"Wait," Wufei barked, halting them just in time. The Chinese man turned, back straight, head high, and gave a deep bow. His voice was thick, "Thank you." He straightened and locked onyx with pale blue eyes, "Thank you, Quatre."
In his periphery, he was aware of Heero's curt nod of approval and Trowa's tiny, satisfied grin. However, it was the way the blond almost seemed to glow, even with tears welling, that made Wufei smirk. Then, they left him alone with the last piece of his former life. He stared at it, an anachronism, a guardian, a gift. Old memories and new beginnings.
About ten minutes later he was ready to brave the party once more. The crowd had thinned significantly. It left the room with an odd chill, the building overcompensating for the body heat no longer present. He went in search of something to drink and found Sally. She smirked at him over her plastic cup. He ignored her until he had negotiated something to quench his parched throat from the remains of the punch bowl and scraped out a second.
Not one to be ignored, Sally quirked a brow, "Hello, Stranger."
"Po," he offered softly, mind still fumbling over the contents of the case in his hand.
Her teasing smirk faltered, but she easily gestured toward the nearby conference table, "It's been a while."
Wufei nodded, taking a seat and swiveling it toward his former partner, "Une has been keeping me busy since... my leave. I hope you've been practicing your forms."
"Everyday, Master Chang," she snapped an Alliance salute.
Usually, he would have scowled and snarled something, but his only response was a frown as he cast a distracted glance at the case on the table, fingering the key in his palm. Master...
Sally dropped the smirk, "Is this because of Heero and me?"
"What?" Wufei shook himself from his thoughts and actually looked at the woman. Her round face and discerning eyes were carefully neutral, the small bow of her lips alone marking her concern. Despite her rather open definition of friendship, Sally did take her relationships seriously.
She remained mild, forthright without being defensive, "Do Heero and I upset you?"
He blinked at her, "Don't be absurd."
"Oh, right." The woman rolled her eyes, but was smiling again as she leaned back into her chair. "I'd almost forgotten who I was talking to."
He almost corrected her grammar. However, a more pressing question came first, "Why ask?"
"Well," she sighed, leaning to prop her elbow on the arm of the chair so her hand could hold her head, "My mornings have been fairly lonely. I'd just assumed."
Wufei snorted to make clear his stance on assumptions.
"I realize I probably didn't help your situation, but Heero... He needed someone," she stared at him blatantly, daring him to question her meaning. The phrase was a common one between them in their early days. Simple. True. It kept them honest. Sally chuckled darkly, "Besides, he was curious about the female body."
Understandable. Female bodies were curious things. He watched her for a long moment, head resting in her hand as she smiled at him, her other hand resting lightly on her lower stomach, and legs crossed. There was something particularly striking about her that seemed just out of his grasp at the moment, almost intangible.
"So, what's actually the problem then?" He quirked an eyebrow and she loosed a throaty laugh.
Once again he marveled at the woman's intuition, "Une made me an offer."
She hummed appreciatively, "Training and Recruitment. They'd be lucky to have you."
The Chinese man brushed away the flattery, "I left for a reason."
"You left active duty," she clarified. Her free hand started tracing tiny circles unconsciously on her stomach, "I've been considering a transfer to the Health Division myself. No one can fight forever. No one should have to."
He nodded slowly.
"You have nothing but options, kid," Sally teased with a fond smile, "Pick one."
That brought a smirk back to his lips.
"Speaking of Duo," Sally Po, subtle as ever, "he asked me to give you this."
He took the large book of poetry from her with a scowl. It was the one he'd lent the American three months earlier. A bookmark stuck out the top and he immediately opened to it, finding it nothing more than a folded piece of paper from a Preventer issue memo pad. In Duo's unmistakable chicken scratch was scrawled a number of headings with lists beneath them. Blank Verse: -Traditional, yet flexible. -Unexpected cohesion. -Range of topics. Clerihew: -Funny. -Blunt. -Too irreverent? Villainelle: -Um...no. Free Verse:-Versatile, but informed. -Finds its own way. -Unique. Elegy: -Loss. -Respect and honor. -Traditional, yet relevant. Elegy was circled. Frowning ever more deeply, he looked at the page that had been marked. A single short poem occupied one page, a short biography of the poet claimed its mirror. Gradually, he lost all color as his eyes traced the two stanzas.
I gave my first love laughter,
I gave my second tears,
I gave my third love silence
Thru all the years.
My first love gave me singing,
My second eyes to see,
But oh, it was my third love
Who gave my soul to me.
Fear clawed at his stomach and he had to swallow before he could speak, "When did he give this to you?"
Sally shrugged, "Before he left. It was strange. I thought he was going to ask me to be his partner, but he just-"
Wufei tore through her with a snarl, "When, Po?"
The heat in his voice snapped her attention back to the Chinese man and she grew still, her voice softening, "Around fifteen minutes ago."
He nodded and stood, but stopped dead, fixated on the case beside him.
Sally saw his hesitation and sighed. Slipping the book from his hand and laying it atop the case, she settled both in her lap. Guarded, safe. "Go."
He bent and gently kissed her forehead. Her lips were a taunting smile, her eyes a laughing refusal. Then he was headed for the door.
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Chang Wufei made the thirteen minute drive home in under four, which was still four too long for his liking. The house was deceptively normal in the grey and the rain. It sat, unperturbed, as though ignorant of any and all vicissitude. Once inside, though, the shift in atmosphere was palpable. Or at least it felt so to Wufei. Each step seemed heavier, despite being faster. He fairly sprinted into his guest room and swore. The duffle was missing, as were all traces of traps on the various entry points, the bed was made. Duo was gone.
His mind went blank for a torturous instant, cold creeping up his spine before he banished it with motion. Duo hadn't taken anything, it appeared, and that included a mode of transport. The American would not call for a car or taxi, too traceable. Stealing one at this time in this part of town would be sloppy, at best. Breaking from Preventers and the other pilots meant breaking with his known associates, too. So, that left mass transit. Wufei mentally mapped his area and dredged up the schedules of the stops closest to him. The neighborhood was quiet, well away from major thoroughfares and that gave Wufei hope. Hope that his braided friend hadn't expected him to react so quickly. And that spurred him forward.
He ran to his car. Duo would be on foot and walking, less conspicuous. Each moment that passed screamed a thousand possibilities and probabilities to tear at Wufei's nerves, no matter how illogical some seemed. Duo was nothing if not unpredictable. The Chinese ex-pilot grit his teeth, biting back the bitter thoughts of another empty room found in another time, another life.
He was nearly at the coach stop and cursing as he mapped out secondary and tertiary routes when he saw him. A man in black, weighed down with wet fabric and a duffle bag. He was hunched defensively against the now large, driving raindrops and the braid was nowhere in sight, probably down his shirt, but Wufei knew that rangy stride. Languid even in discomfort. He hit the brake and burst from his car, dashing after the figure. Wufei grabbed the man's shoulder and he spun on the spot instantly, crashing them together in an unexpected halt.
Violet eyes blinked at him from under matted down bangs, so very much closer than anticipated, "'Fei?"
Onyx stared evenly back, becalmed, "Maxwell." Wufei dropped his gaze very deliberately between them, to the gun jammed into his ribs, "Expecting someone else?"
"I wasn't..." Duo let it trail, swallowing hard, ingesting the rest of the thought. The gun vanished back into sopping clothes as smoothly as it had appeared and just as inconspicuous. Biting his lower lip at the growing silence, he stuttered back a step, "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask the same," the Chinese man scowled.
Duo gave a weak shrug, "Thought I'd give Hil a visit."
"And then come back," Wufei annunciated crisply, each word needle sharp. "Right?"
Violet eyes stared back at him, hollow and dim, but his mouth just smiled.
Wufei cursed.
"Oh, so everyone can fuck off, but me, huh? What's it matter?" Duo growled, turning to leave.
Like a flash, Wufei had him, reeling him in nose to nose. Onyx eyes burned, his voice deathly quiet, "It matters. A known terrorist out in the world without oversight and on the lam. You'll be flagged as a threat. You would be hunted down and killed like scum."
"I can take care of myself," Duo smirked like the devil incarnate.
"By me." Wufei growled, tightening his grip, trying to impress his full meaning.
Something manic slipped into Duo's smile, "You can try."
Onyx eyes shifted to where he held Duo fast, then back to his face, arching a brow. The Chinese ex-pilot had just found him in less than a half hour, before he had even fully made his escape. Admittedly, it was mostly bluff. Once away, Duo had the entire Earth Sphere to hide in, but then Wufei would have the others and the entire resources of Preventers with which to find him. And Chang Wufei was renown for being dogged.
Then they were moving. Duo peeled his grip and struck. Wufei easily blocked the onslaught and closed to grapple. Water sprayed between them as they coursed through the motions. Fast and hard, but equally adept. Finally, Wufei managed to snare the American, locking his arms about him. Teeth sunk into flesh winning a startled cry of pain as the braided man broke free. With a savage growl, the Chinese ex-pilot swept the other's feet, driving Duo to his knees, and grabbed a fistful of hair.
Hollow violet glared up at him, "You going to beat me up to keep me here?"
For a long time, Wufei stood there. Breathing. Watching. His hand tangled in chestnut bangs, blood running down his forearm, diluting in the rain. And violet eyes watched right back from either side of a ruined nose. Finally, he let go and dropped his guard, "No."
Nothing but rain filled the world for long minutes. Neither moved as the chill crept slowly inside. Aching. Numbing. The sun was rapidly setting resplendent, deriding the storm and turmoil about them. It was one of the things to which Wufei would never acclimate, the character and flippancy of nature.
It was Duo's laughter that brought him back to the present, raucous and slightly maniacal. The braided man had let his legs folded beneath him, sitting on the soaked sidewalk. Noting onyx eyes on him, the American loosed a second volley, even louder and more discordant.
"Something humorous?"
Duo flagged a hand in a large, haphazard gesture at apparently everything immediately around the two of them, voice lost for the moment. The braided man sighed and sniffed, regaining some composure, "Why the Hell are you here?"
Wufei snorted at him, "Po. The book."
His braided friend stared blankly, but Wufei wasn't buying it.
"Your rambling notes on the forms. That poem," the Chinese man pressed, as though reminding the other of something obvious. "Leaving it in the house would have bought you more time."
Being critiqued apparently wasn't enough bait for the American, "I left something in it?"
"You may as well have painted 'farewell' across it," Wufei scowled quietly.
Duo stood, slow and languid, "Oh?"
The Chinese man arched a brow, "You never say goodbye, only assume it's implicit."
"So, you came to say goodbye," Duo smirked, lacking no enthusiasm.
"No," Wufei swallowed to wet his suddenly very dry throat, "I'm here to ask that you stay."
The smirk slid off the American's face sluggishly as they stared at each other. Violet eyes searched onyx and he growled out a sigh at what he found, wiping water from his face, "Hell. I am not doing this, again."
"Doing what?"
"This!" Duo once again gestured at the two of them, then turned to walk away, "Deja fucking vu. It's like Heero all over and we both know how that ended."
Wufei grabbed the other man's arm, "I'm not Yuy."
Violet eyes glanced at the restraint on his arm and back to Wufei's face, "Sure you're not."
"Because I love you?" It came out so much easier than he had expected. It flowed, dark and smooth, off his tongue and hung in the air about them.
Duo stared in utter disbelief, "Because you don't know what that means."
"I am wholly aware of what I'm saying," Wufei assured with his insurmountable calm. Being the fifth wheel of two same sex couples had piqued his curiosity eventually. He had always been more comfortable when he could at least claim to understand the goings on around him. Homosexuality was not as taboo as it once had been and his background in academia had afforded him a bit of reference on the idea, though in a less personal frame.
"I know you were married and I know about Po," Duo glared at him sourly, unconvinced.
"Obligation and tradition are difficult fetters to cast off." Marriage had been his duty and anything outside of it was superfluous. Meiran and Sally had seen through him. He loved them both for it; he could admit that now. He would always love them, but this was different. This was informed, chosen. Sought out and more than simply necessary. "This is real, Maxwell."
Something inside the braided man cracked, that smile slicing across his face, "What about when you called me Duo? Was that just a slip, the concussion talking? And a month ago? That was the liquor, right? Our first kiss? Fuck, 'Fei, we're already a damn train wreck!"
The Chinese man breathed to steady himself. They had apparently moved past friendship long ago, at least by Duo's reckoning. Ever observant and discerning Duo, sharp as his smile. The L2 urchin had flagged him early, seen him coming, and the teenaged terrorist hidden every wound, noted every graceless misstep. Wufei couldn't decide which was worse, his twinge of betrayal at being so readily judged or that his failure had been anticipated to the point of dismissal. Something flared in his chest, something primal that his logic shied from at first, "It's not that simple."
"It is," Duo snarked back, dangerous, "Because I am. I say what I damn well mean and it stays that way. If I don't mean it, I don't fucking say it. See, simple."
"Honesty and complexity are separate qualities," Wufei astutely refuted.
A harsh laugh grated from Duo's chest, "That sounded exactly like Heero. Fucking logic."
"You realize you just cursed all reason," the Chinese scholar noted dryly with a snort. Seeing the braided man's smile falter for a second he pushed a little further, "I suppose that's the only way to equate myself and Yuy."
"Oh sure. Not like you both don't bite off more than you can chew. Or contradict yourselves. Or flinch away. Not like you don't see me as something I've never been. And you certainly never cling to me because I'm the easy option," Duo's voice dropped off, having steadily grown quieter and more cruel the entire time. Violet eyes dipped once again to the hand holding his arm, then back up pointedly, "Let me go, Wufei."
Both hand and gaze held fast, "You're right, I don't."
"You stubborn-" Duo cut himself off and rolled his eyes, searching the rain for either more constructive words or more elaborate curses.
Wufei gently put a hand to the other's cheek and guided violet eyes back down to his, "Yuy's gone. Just like that man on L2."
It took a long beat before realization dawned in violet eyes, paired oddly with a frown, "What made you think I was the innocent in that story?"
Onyx scoured violet for anything else, any little scrap of meaning and found nothing.
Duo's cold, scarred and calloused hand fell over his own on the braided man's cheek and firmly removed it with a gruff sigh, "You want to know what happened."
He was aware of his hand still in the other's, but was transfixed on violet eyes. Wufei nodded.
"Fine, here's what happened. When we met, I shot him, then we jumped out of a building and he stole from me. I thought, knew, we were the same. He'd stolen his Gundam and gone against Operation M and thought he was going to die. So, we had something. It didn't mean anything and the only words between us were mine saying so, probably thought I was joking."
Silence crept into the edges around them, but kept a respectful distance. Wufei's mind was whirling, putting pieces into place. Duo had known Heero early in the war and considered him a kindred soul. A thief, a rebel, and more than a touch crazy. From Wufei's single encounter and other sources, that seemed to fit their fellow Japanese ex-pilot. At least, before Siberia.
Duo took a breath and continued, "Didn't matter because soon he blew himself up, ending it. And, months later, I was getting ready to bite it in some cell when his fucking ghost showed up. Except he wasn't a ghost and I can see it in his eyes over the damn gun. The choice he's making, right there. He was different and it set my teeth on edge, because it wasn't him. He wasn't... He got me out and fixed and safe as possible and it drove me nuts. Then the war was ending and I figured out how different he really was. But he still looked at me like a dog, with that utter loyalty, trust. Even when I... When the whole Mariemaia thing happened, well, I figured it was time. I left him with 'Lena, never expected him to just let himself waste like that. Preventers slammed us back together and I couldn't..."
Wufei kept himself carefully blank, but violet eyes had slipped to the ground somewhere in there and refused to look up again.
"When he proposed, it was that cell all over again. I could see the choice he was making, even as he asked a fucking question. I just gave him a truthful answer." The question was on the tip of Wufei's tongue when Duo cut him off, violet eyes burning into onyx without warning, "I told him to shoot me, to put one right between my eyes. Even gave him a gun and put it to my head and laughed at him."
How long they stood there, letting that settle in the rain and the dark and the quiet, was impossible to tell. The rain stopped. Duo was grinning and shivering, violet eyes serious and tired. Wufei stared and breathed. He thought of every scar, every wound. He remembered every motion, every laugh, every smile, every sacrifice. They each had expectations the others didn't always live up to. Quatre expected people to listen. Trowa expected to be surprised. Heero expected them to be strong. Wufei, himself, expected a certain level of intelligence. Duo, however, expected nothing. In the worst possible way. He gave absurdly and accepted gratefully, to a point. To the point where it compromised someone, changed them. To the point of vulnerability. The Chinese man squeezed the hand still holding his, "Idiot."
"Don't," the American growled, pulling away again.
Before he had even moved, a hand had snaked behind his neck and brought him back to lips on lips, mingled breaths steaming in the night. Duo's face was wet and salty. Tears in the rain, Wufei realized just before a tongue grazed his own. It was short and tentative and left them breathless, huddled together, foreheads touching. Onyx peered into hollow violet, "Live with me, Duo."
The braided man choked on a laugh, "Dammit, 'Fei, weren't you listening?"
"I was." Wufei smirked, "Weren't you? I said live with me. Not marry, not stay. Live."
Duo blinked at him, "And that's enough?"
"All life is a manifestation of the spirit, the manifestation of love."
"...I can't."
Without a word, the Chinese man straightened and finally relinquished his hold. The American stood, eying the other for long careful moments before turning.
"I die."
The low, silky admission stopped the braided ex-pilot. Duo stayed perfectly still, "What?"
"In my nightmares. I die. Painfully. Alone." Just the memories made his voice thick, husky. Making him bite out each word with care. Sent a chill down his spine. Part of him was glad he was speaking to Duo's back. Wufei wasn't entirely sure he could actually say this to the man's face, "I died every night for three years."
"So?" There was a hesitance, waiting for an explanation, relevancy. Needing it.
Wufei sighed lightly, looking to the clear horizon, "It's better with you."
"It didn't stop," Duo reminded.
He was right, though Wufei had realized it mostly happened when he thought about Duo leaving. Yet that didn't matter. The pain, the fear, the shame. None of it mattered for one simple reason. "I wasn't alone."
That made Duo turn back. Just turn and look at him. The cool night breeze howled through drenched clothes. Stars were peeking through in the clearing sky. The bus screeched up to the stop behind them. It would be there for ten minutes.
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GillyWrist – I'm sorry you came in so late, but sincerely hope you enjoyed the rest of the story. More in depth reviews are always welcome. Thank you for your time and very kind words.
Fairy5706green – I have difficulty with the idea of separating the war from the boys. It's such a major part of each of their characters, in different ways, that ignoring it always feels false. Thanks again for sharing!
In2lalaland – Here's where it was going. What do you think? I'd agree that Wufei is braver, but it's a tougher call than I first thought.
Semjaza – Thank you very much! I hope this was up to expectations.
AuroraMusisAmica – Oh good. It's always lovely to hear that things came out well. You have no idea how long I worried over this chapter. Thanks!
Thank you kindly to everyone that read, enjoyed, favorited, and watched!