'Figures out... figures out...

Narrow line... can't decide

Everything short of suicide,

Never hurts, nearly works...'

Little House, The Fray

Chapter Four

On the Rooftop

Cara had tried to give him the comfort he'd needed, but he simply wouldn't let her in. Knowing that eventually he would come around, she'd left in search of her brother- someone she hopefully could help comfort.

Later that day, she sat alone in the library. It had once been her haven, the quiet so blissful, so peaceful. But now, after years with Duo and his need to constantly talk, the silence was overwhelming, miserable. She'd like to romantically think that she'd somehow changed him. Indeed, everyone said he was much calmer now. But she knew that he'd changed her in a million little ways. She'd once valued silence. It had been her friend, her comfort. But now, she couldn't make it through a day without Duo beside her. And it tore her to peices inside to know that he was hurting, greiving, and that he wouldn't let her in. Did his feelings of friendship towards Hiro Yuy, the perfect soldier, run so deep that he would refuse even her, who'd wiped his tears away, who'd helped him up every time he stumbled during his trek to make a life for himself?

And now... with him like this, how could she tell him? She talked to Sally justa few hours ago. The doctor had been thorough. And her prognosis was just as Cara had thought...

"Cara!"

Her musings were interrupted by her brother's voice. The urgency in it had her jumping up, dashing headlong out into the hallway.

"Quatre?"

"Duo,,," he panted, out of breath.

"What? What about Duo?" She was worried now. What was wrong? What was going on? Quatre never reacted like this to anything.

"Cara, oh Allah, he's up on the roof!"

~~~~~{*}~~~~~

"Duo? Duo?"

He heard his name being called from back inside. It was Quatre's voice, worried and hesitant.

"Duo? Where are you?"

He never made a sound, never even turned around. He could tell right when Quatre spotted him. The gasp, the clank of a window being throwed open.

"DUO?!? What are you doing?"

He never answered. He just stood there, contemplating the horizon. It was five stories in the air, nothing but the hard, unforgiving sand below. And up here, nothing but wind gusting, tugging at his shirt, his pants, pulling his braided lengthof hair.

"Duo..." Quatre's voice was even and level. One might say calm, if they didn't know the softspoken Arabian. "Duo... please... don't... whatever you're thinking... don't."

Duo thought, but didn't answer. Life was useless. You could try so hard to turn yourself around, and it could all be taken from you. Hiro hadn't been a good guy... but he hadn't deserved to die. Releena, she didn't either; she'd never harmed a single thing in her life.

It was useless. Hiro had tried for years, turning life around, creating a decent and respectable living loving only one woman, only one person. And it had all been taken away.

Life was pointless.

He knew that Quatre had left, running. Probably to find Trowa and Wufei, see if they could reason with him. Cara was angry with him. She didn't care- was probably a long way away by now. He'd snapped at her with pure hate and anger- the very first time ever he'd done so in the years of their relationship, and she'd left. Sure, she'd tried to help him, but he'd pushed her away... and she went willingly. She'd been angry that he wouldn't let her in.

He knew he was hard on her sometimes. But she had no idea how much he tried to hide from her. She'd be more than angry... she'd hate him if she truely knew him. Funny, how that was. Most of the time, it seemed like she was the only person who truly knew him. She was bright, sweet, a beacon of hope. He knew why Hiro had taken so long with Releena. If any of the women knew what they really were, what hope was there?

Cara was his life. From the first moment he'd held her. No, even before then. From the first moment she'd smiled at him. At first, he'd been curious. She was a beautiful woman, why shouldn't he have been? Then, he'd been infatuated. She was a complexity all her own. She had her demons, some worse than others, but she held her own. Then, he began unraveling her, glimpsing her soul, and he'd begun to fall. He probably started to slid the first time he'd kissed her. Slow, sweet. With the smell of iodine and brownies in the air. His slip turned into a stumble the first time they'd made love, with more passion than either had expected. Again he stumbled the morning after, as they held each other in the warm water of their bath. Every little thing she did made him slide more towards that razor edge. He didn't know how long he'd loved her, but he remembered the exact moment he'd realized it. April fifteenth two years ago, when he'd seen her in her grubby old yard-work clothes, holding the next-door neighbors little girl as she cried about tripping on the sidewalk. The image had transfixed him. He stood in the doorway of their little house, just staring at that picture. Cara would make such a great mother, he'd thought; he wanted to be the father to those children. And it had hit him, right then and there. He loved Cara. And he would never get over her.

They had just taken things a day at a time, had never given much thought to some days or 'whens'. The future was just that. And it was unknown. Until then, when he knew that he loved her. And that he wanted to make her a mother, to see her holding their child like that. Maybe a little Cara, with gold hair and superbly blue eyes? Or a mini Duo, with chestnut hair and amethyst eyes? Or someoneesle entirely? What if they had Duo's eyes, and Cara's lustrous hair? Or her elegance and grace coupled with his sense of humor? Would they have Cara's honor and stubbornness or his happy-go-lucky charm?

All the possibilities, all those little what ifs, somedays, came flying right at him. And it had still taken him two years to get up the courage to ask her to be his wife.

But those didn't matter now. She would hate him. God knew, he hated himself. If there was no hope for someone like Hiro in the world? What would happen to him? Murphey's law popped in his mind, but he pushed it back.

Whatever bad that could happen... had happened. The only thing left now was to just end it all. He took a single step closer to the edge.

Cara hated him. And she'd hate him even more for this. She'd see it as cowardice. Or maybe not. Maybe it'd be worse. She'd see it as weak. And she'd know that she had wasted her time. She was a doctor. She healed physical wounds for a living. But for three years, her love in life had been healing his emotional, mental ones. How would she take the fact that she'd failed?

He took another step closer. She hated failing. He took another. How simple it was to convince himself that this was the best.. no... the only path. His feet were at the edge. One more step... and it would be over. No more pain. No more death. No more failure. No more nothing. No more Duo.

"Duo... please..."

This time it wasn't Quatre. Cara was behind him. He spared a glance over his shoulder. She was pale, shaking. Tears were falling down her cheeks, splashing on the blue cotton T-shirt she wore. She was half-out of the window.

"Go away," he tried to make his voice sound mean, cold, but he knew it was as shaky as her composure. "Get back inside," he didn't want her on this rooftop. He deserved to end it... she still had things to do. He started to take that last step.

"Duo... no... please. Duo, I love you."

He ignored her, but he didn't go any further.

"Duo, you have so much left to live for. Think about it!" Her voice was trembling, as were her steps as she slide closer out on the steep slant of the roof.

"Do you love me?" Her voice was so soft, pleading.

He tried to ignore her.

"Do you love me?" She demanded, her voice rising.

"Always," he said at last. "That's why I'm going to set you free. You deserve better."

"NO!" Her voice had lost some of it's tremble in her volume. "I deserve whatever I want... and I want you. Here, with me. At our wedding. In our house. With our children. I want you. All of you. I love every bit of you. Laughing and crying, sad or strong, happy or tormented. I love you. Isn't that enough for you to want to live? Life's not as hopeless as it seems. Aren't I enough for you?"

"Always," he said again. Maybe he was going about this wrong. Maybe she was right. She loved him... he didn't want to hurt her. She did love him still... there was hope after all. And his death would hurt her. And he hated to hurt her, though he seemed to do it so often lately. He started to turn around to face her.

But his balance was precarious, right on the edge. And the wind had been growing stronger.