The aroma of soup is what lures me from sleep.

Rolling slightly toward it, I wince as pain floods through various parts of my body. I'd almost forgotten about the ordeal in the forest. I suppose pleasant dreams will do that to you. If there wasn't the promise of food awaiting me, I think I'd probably go back to sleep. Because, when your head feels two sizes too big, the inside of your mouth is as dry as paper, and one side of your body is numb (leaving you to look forward to the sharp prick of needles when it finally wakes up), the world of the living just doesn't hold much appeal. But I'm hungry. No, scratch that, I'm ravenous.

Gingerly moving myself, ever aware of the shift of bandages against my bare skin, I find a more comfortable position without having actually opened my eyes yet. I'm saving that treat for last. There's nothing like the sudden flood of bright lights to snuff out the last remnants of sleep. Not, I suppose, that it matters much. I've already got a headache. Part from pain, and part from hunger. I must have been out of it for awhile, is all I can think. If I could brave opening my eyes, I could probably figure out just what time it is. Or, what day it is, as the case may be.

I don't think I've ever felt this weary. Not even when I've had mission after mission, with little to no sleep in between. For all that I must have got lying here, I sure as hell don't feel rested. Rather, I feel drug out, as if someone's idea of fun was to beat on various parts of my body with a hammer. I guess that's what happens when you fall headfirst off a cliff. It's a good thing I didn't _land_ on my head. I might not have been here to whine about my injuries otherwise. All that aside, I hope I'm not bedridden. I'll go crazy. I'll drive everyone crazy. I'll probably run away at the first sign of darkness.

Let's see... a busted shoulder; a nasty bullet scratch; a swelled, aching elbow; and a list of various other cuts and bruises scattered across every available inch of flesh and bone. I do believe I've set a record. And I wasn't even in Deathscythe when I got these injuries. Speaking of Deathscythe, I wonder how long it'll be before I can get to fixing him. I hate leaving him out there, not knowing what's up. Not that I'm going to be flying anywhere anytime soon. What a depressing thought that is. I just had to go and get myself shot and beat to hell. You think I would have learned my lesson by now.

Severe injuries equal no missions plus excessive amounts of boredom.

What an equation. And here I used to like math.

Maybe a break from missions would be nice. But not when you're stuck in bed as an alternative. Call me sadistic, but I happen to like missions. I don't _like_ killing people, but I like what each one accomplishes. Plus, I'm a 15 year old boy! I like explosives, guns, and other various things that go boom and create mass destruction. What can I say, it's in my blood, and it's a right of passage. Every teenage boy has to get his fill of action somewhere. I happen to get mine firsthand rather than video games and TV. Besides, unlike most, I've been around it all my life. I hate to say it, but it's a part of me. Death, violence, and war. Some days I think I'll never shake its shadow.

But it makes me tired, just thinking about it. Endless years of fighting. If you counted the number of lives I've been responsible for ending, I bet you'd have my entire lifetime up to this moment wrapped around a hundred times or more. See, I really am Shinigami. It isn't only arrogance, nor is it simply paying homage to the God of Death. I don't really even _like_ the God of Death. He and I just relate. Funny, how you have to take life to give life. That's war for you. A paradox in its own right. Fight to make peace. Lose so much to gain so much more. I wish it could be done some other way. But it can't.

The world is not made up of rational people. What one person sees one way, another sees another. It's always a constant fight, and I think politicians remind me of a bunch of big babies. Only rather than toys, they've got the lives of people in their hands every time they throw a tantrum. It makes me want to knock all their heads together. It seems no matter how many numbers you add to your age, you're still never mature enough. I'll be immature until the day I die. But I'm proud of my immaturity. It doesn't effect the entire world, and it never would. I'm not the type to get involved in a mess like politics. But the ones that do ought to exercise a bit more maturity.

Nope. I'm happy blowing things up. Let other people fight their battles on the political field. I'm fine just where I am.

Well, not at the moment, as I'm lying in a bed, still contemplating opening my eyes, and not even thinking about moving.

And back to my current predicament we go.

My mind works like a well oiled circle. Where I start, I eventually end up back there again at some point. I'm beginning to think I should have stayed asleep. Now that I'm awake, however, I need to get something to eat, something to drink, and take care of this headache. How I go about doing that in my present state, hasn't yet occurred to me. Maybe if I lay here long enough, someone will come along. Then again, maybe not. I don't even know where _here_ is.

Oh, joy. My side just woke up. I shift uncomfortably in an effort to alleviate the shock my skin gets from having the proper circulation return to it in such a short time. It's not helping. I think this is worse than having your foot fall asleep, then standing up suddenly only to fall flat on your face. And yes, that's happened to me. As luck would have it, right in front of Wufei. He didn't laugh, however. He just gave me one of those 'I think you're a retard' looks. Speaking of Wufei...

"How are you feeling?"

I jerk. Now that was another nice shock to my system.

When the voice processes, I realize it's Quatre. I have to smile. He takes such good care of us. I don't know where we'd be without him.

"Like shit. I hurt everywhere," I rasp, not at all surprised to find I sound like I swallowed a bunch of sand.

He laughs softly.

"I'm not surprised. You were really bad off. We were all worried."

I open one eye slowly. That hurts. The light feels like it's piercing right through my skull. Resisting the urge to groan, because it's not manly, I take a few slow breaths to adjust to the pressure behind my eyes. I've never had a headache quite like this before. Who knew it was such an effort just to open your eyes. I'm sweating now. I can feel the dampness across my forehead, and teasing at the back of my neck. I really hate sweating. It stems back to my childhood, to my almost obsessive need to be clean.

I used to do a lot of fighting when I was little. No big surprise there, huh? It had to do with me being an orphan, and thus being poor. When the Maxwell church took us all in, they sent us to a Federation school. I hated it there, because the kids constantly taunted us. If it wasn't the fact that I had no money, it was that I looked like a girl, or worse, I smelled. That was the last insult I could take. They weren't going to strip me of my pride, and plainly put, I wasn't taking anymore of their shit. So I beat the hell out of them. When it was all over, we all looked bad, but they looked worse. And boy, did I get in trouble.

But not from Sister Helen. Never from her. No matter what I did, she always loved me. I've never found a love like that since.

God, that hurts. Right in my chest. I think I'd rather take these physical injuries over the emotional ones any day.

It must have shown in my face, because Quatre says, "Don't overdo it, Duo. You're injured."

The sudden flashback that brings has me laughing, then grimacing as the act increases the pounding in my head and disturbs my other injuries, especially my ribs. Bruised or cracked. I can't tell which, but the way it hurts to just breath is enough to make me want to cry. But I smile a little still. Quatre's words were so similar to the ones I spoke to Heero as I was taking chunks of his flesh with my pistol that first time we met. We've come so far since then. It's strange looking back. All things have to start somewhere, but they never go like you expect them to.

"Quatre..." I say faintly, finding it some effort to even speak.

"Yes?" He's over by the bed now.

He's so damned nice. Only he would spend all this time in here, waiting for me to wake up. I never realized until meeting these guys how much I wanted someone to care for me. I had gone so long without anything but the clothes on my back and my pride. I moved around constantly, some part of me knowing that I couldn't get too attached to one way of life or it would perish. I'm afraid of that still. But these pilots... they're strong. And that makes all the difference.

Some of the tension seeps from my body and I relax into the mattress.

"Duo?"

Quatre. I almost forgot.

"Is that soup I smell?" I ask hopefully.

I've forced both my eyes open now and I can faintly make him out, a soft blur at the foot of my bed.

He laughs again. "Yes. It's dinner time."

Dinner time? I must have been asleep the rest of last night and well into today.

"Any chances of me getting some? I'm starving... and I have a killer headache."

"Aspirin and soup, coming right up," he answers cheerfully.

I can see him clearly now. He's a nice sight for tired, aching eyes.

"Quatre?"

He pauses by the door.

I'm almost afraid to ask. "How's Wufei?'

Something crosses his face that raises little alarm bells in me.

I struggle to sit up. I damn near make it. Didn't know I had it in me.

"Something didn't happen to him, did it?" I demand, knowing I sound worried, but not caring.

Quatre shakes his head, but that kind, almost sad look remains.

"He sat with you all night and some of today. He refused to rest himself."

I'm stunned. No, I'm not being sarcastic. I'm serious. I can't believe Wufei sat with me all that time, being injured himself. It's so unlike him. Yet, remembering the kiss, I wonder. Does he care more than he lets on? Have I been blind this entire time? Wufei... saving my ass. Spending the day with me. Helping me study. Walking me to breakfast. Volunteering to go with me when Deathscythe went out.

I fall back down on the pillow. I hadn't realized.

Turning my face back to Quatre, I ask, "Where is he?"

Now he looks uncomfortable.

I frown. Boy, that hurts. Everything hurts.

"Quatre?"

"He left, Duo."

Left? "As in took Nataku and left for good?"

He nods.

The disappointment I feel is instantaneous and overwhelming. A different kind of pain. That damn emotional pain again. I can't know why he left, but my mind still turns to the kiss and I wonder if the reaction I gave was the wrong one. Did I screw this chance I had up? This one I didn't even want to take? Why is it, I lose everyone I care for in one way or another...

"Did he... say where he was going?"

"No. He said... he had things he needed to do."

My mask is in place. I feel it sliding in to cover the way I feel, to gloss over the hurt.

Smiling though it nearly kills me, I say, "I hope he's well off enough to fly."

"Duo..."

Don't, Quatre. Don't use that tone and sympathize with me. I feel too fragile, and I might break. I've got to hold on to my pride. It's all I have left. I'm a mess, and though I love you like a brother, I don't want to lose myself in front of you.

Quatre smiles, as if he can read my mind. "I'll go get that soup and aspirin."

"Thank you, Quatre. You're a good person." And I mean it for more than just getting me soup.

"So are you, Duo," he says, before slipping from the room.

I stare at the door. I don't feel like a good person. I don't think I ever have.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Wufei likes his solitude. Some time together, and one kiss isn't going to change that. I don't think he's any more ready for it than I am. And I think he's haunted by something in his past. Like me. I hate to think he ran away from me. But I'll deal. It's not like I have any other choice.

"We have a lot to work through, you and me, Wu... we're both more screwed up than we let on."

Sighing, I let my head loll to the side and examine the bandages on my shoulder. Guess the bullet missed bone. That makes me happy. I'll heal faster. It passed clean through too, which means the wound will heal easier without the bullet needing to be pulled out. Let's just say I don't want to imagine that. I'm sure, however, this doesn't make Heero happy. With me injured and Wufei gone, he doesn't have so many people to boss around anymore.

I'm trying to be big about this. I could be mad at Wufei, for tugging at my emotions like that and then taking off. But I don't have the energy, and I don't want to be angry with him. Not when I understand. Whatever happened between us, it wouldn't be shallow. I'd hate to have him use me as a crutch, and I never want to depend on someone that way. Maybe he's scared that's what it'll turn out to be. Maybe he's worried that in the middle of this war, an affair between us will be only a means to cope. I don't want that anymore than he does.

I never realized it before, but maybe the reason I never let Heero know how I felt, was because I didn't want it to be cheap. I wanted him to be someone I could love. But he wasn't. Maybe Wufei isn't either. I don't want to find out this way. So it's better that he left, before I became too attached to him, before we made a mistake. But you know what? We could both be wrong. And I think that's what scares me most of all.

I must have fallen asleep.

The room is dark now, bathed only in moonlight from a window with half-drawn curtains. The house itself is silent, which tells me everyone else is sleeping. I lay still for a while, listening to my own breathing. I feel rested now, better since I got something to eat and something to kill the pain. It's enough so that I'm wanting to get out of bed and walk around a bit. It's not like I really need to be in here. If I'm careful, I won't disturb my wounds all that much.

Pushing the covers aside with my good arm, I slowly lower my legs over the edge of the bed, rising carefully to a sitting position. My back feels so tender, I think the slightest touch would send me screaming. If I was able to look at it, I bet it would be entirely black or purple, whichever nasty stage of bruising it thought to take on. The true test comes now, when I stand up as carefully as I can, so as not to send myself toppling back down again. The room sways slightly, but I remain on my feet. I think I'll be okay.

Shuffling across the floor, I stop at the window, looking out. We're in some kind of house or something, I suppose. It doesn't really matter. If Heero secured it, we're safe enough. He probably scouted the whole area and interviewed the neighbors, if there even are neighbors. That's one thing to be said for him. He's very thorough. Almost to the point where he's obsessive. Oh well. We all have our little oddities. We won't even get into mine. By now, I figure you've found them all out.

It's a nice night. Clear, and peaceful. It calls to me. If I could, I'd go for a walk. Unlike some, I like the dark. We're kindred spirits, much like the God of Death and I. There's something about the stillness of it, the soundlessness, that calms me. There's less people out, and it's almost as if you could have the entire night all to yourself. It's deceptive that way.

Turning away from the window, something catches my eye. It's draped over the end of the bed. When I get there, I grasp it, holding it up. It's Wufei's sash. He must have forgotten it. Or maybe he left it on purpose.

"Leaving a piece of yourself behind, Wu?" I murmur. "That's bad luck. You're going to have to come back now, you know..."

Smiling faintly, I tuck it into the pocket of the pajama bottoms I'm wearing. I won't even ask who got me dressed. It was probably Quatre. But if it wasn't... I don't want to think about it.

Since I'm suddenly attacked by the urge to get something to drink, I leave my room behind, navigating my way blindly to what I hope is the kitchen. It's a bit difficult to orient yourself to a new place for the first time in the dark. But I don't bother taking a tour. I'm too sore, and besides, I don't know how long we're even going to be here. Or if we're even going to leave together when we _do_ leave. Maybe we're getting too used to being together. Getting attached is a bad idea. Heero'd tell you it leads to being a poor soldier. After all, caring makes you weak, gives you a liability.

And I say too damn bad.

Opening the fridge proves to be fun, when I forget about my shoulder and try to do it with my injured arm. After some interesting cursing, I finally get into it and pull out a soda. I down half the can in one go, and then begin the trek back to my room, almost running Heero down in the process. Not that I could do much damage, considering I'm not going that fast.

"Duo. Why are you out of bed?"

Rather than answer, I hold the soda up.

He continues to stare at me, with that piercing, 'I can see into your soul, sinner' look.

"What're you doing up?" I finally say, opting for conversation.

"I heard you."

I blink. "Pretty impressive. Were you sound asleep?"

"No." Is all he says, before he brushes past me and opens the fridge.

Heero never ceases to amaze me. He wears the same thing to bed that he does when he isn't in uniform. Tank top and spandex shorts. He's evidently very much into conservation.

"Deathscythe is repaired."

"What?" I ask stupidly. He touched my Gundam? Visions of what happened _last_ time Heero touched my Gundam dance through my head.

"I repaired your Gundam."

Hey, he called my Gundam by its name. I think I need to sit down. My brain isn't keeping up with this conversation in the proper order.

"You, ah, didn't happen to use the parts from someone else's Gundam to do that, did you?"

He turns to look at me. And I swear by all that is Holy, he smiles at me.

"Heero... are you sick?"

"Of course not."

His usual expression is back in place.

"Well then..." I pause awkwardly. "Thanks."

He grunts, brushing past me again with a glass of ice water in his hand.

Now there's the Heero I'm used to.

Remaining where I am, I stare dumbly at the door he walked through for a few seconds. I don't think I'll ever understand him. Hell, I consider wearily, as I seat myself at the kitchen table instead of walking back to my room, I don't think I'll ever understand myself.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out Wufei's sash and finger it. Heero and Wufei. Two walking enigmas. But decent, worthwhile guys. Maybe I'll never get close to them. It's hard to say. I've got a lot of life ahead of me. Anything can, and does happen. One day...

"Take care... and good luck," I whisper, staring at the sash.

But never good-bye. Because good-bye is final, and I know Wufei and I will meet up again.