Day of Last Communication

It was Heero's last full night in DC and he was just stopping by Quatre's office to see him before he headed home tomorrow. He knew what his partner thought of Quatre now, after everything, even if he never let it on – but Heero couldn't help but be ingratiated to the other man. If ultimately he saved Duo's life, there was nothing Heero wouldn't do for him.

He had only just arrived when Quatre got the call that they were being evacuated to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Quatre's eyes were apologetic but there was no need – there was no way in hell Heero was getting into a moving target. He'd take his chances on the ground with bombs any day rather than risk being shot out of the sky, nothing more than a sitting duck.

The timing was inconvenient but then at least he knew what was happening before it was even truly happening. He didn't wait to see Quatre go. He had to do the only thing he could do, which was get to the fallout shelter and warn Duo. Thankfully, such shelters literally overran DC from the 60's and he didn't have to go far from Quatre's office to find one. Obsessive planner that he was, he had scoped all the nearby shelters out in the preceding weeks and knew their locations exactly.

As soon as he exited the building he whipped out his phone and dialed Duo, heart already racing with anxiety and the effort of moving faster than he really should be able to with his handicap.

"Hey babe." Duo's voice over the line caused a flood of emotion through him, fear and love and just wanting to be there overwhelming him suddenly and he sucked in air, feeling gutted. "Everything okay out there?"

"No, everything is not okay." He glanced around the street as he came to a light, stood impatiently in the obligatory cluster of people trying to cross the street, attempting to catch his breath and ignore the disconcerted stares of the pedestrians around him. "It's happening. It's happening now."

"What?" Duo interjected quickly but Heero knew he knew. Quatre didn't give him any specifics before he left, but then no one really knew. All they had was a few intercepted e-mails and missing CDC samples.

"I don't know – bombings, I think. They're evacuating now. The plane – shit!" Just as he'd made it across the street, the blast of planes breaking the sound barrier hit and overwhelmed everything. He stared up into the sky, seeking out aircraft that were long gone now.

He was drawn back by Duo repeating his name into the phone.

"Sorry, there's –" Shit. He couldn't really tell him there was about to be a full-blown fucking who-knew-what with high grade military aircraft in the sky. So he immediately switched tactics. "– get to a safe place. Surely they'll hit LA."

The thought was sobering. Foolishly, they had never accounted for a situation like this. It was Heero's impression that the virus would be released more covertly than this – that

he'd have time to make it back by car if he had to, even if everyone was dying around him.

"What about you?" He winced at the fairly panicked tone of Duo's voice as he sped up down the street.

"I'm almost at a fallout shelter." Heero assured him as much as possible, but what could he really say? He couldn't hold him, couldn't kiss his forehead and tell him everything was going to be okay. Fuck.

"I want you home." Duo's voice was quiet and sincere and Heero's fingers trembled on the phone so bad he was afraid for a second he might drop it. Home. It was the only place he wanted to be but he was three thousand miles away.

"I know – I wish I was home too." He paused, willing his voice not to crack as he leaned heavily on the inside of a doorframe, completely ignoring the shocked business owner glaring at him through the glass.

He closed his eyes and pictured Duo, his handsome face, smiling that self-confident smirk he always smiled when he looked at him, like he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he completely and utterly possessed him. And he did. There was nothing about himself he wouldn't give to Duo.

He took a few labored breaths to calm himself before he continued, his voice coming out smooth, steady, and even. The least he could do. "But listen to me, stay where you are." And then he made the promise he would never break, the promise Duo had made to him so long ago.

"I will find you. You understand me? I will find you. I love you, Duo, I – I love you so much..." He bit into his lower lip and waited for the faithful answer but heard nothing. Nothing but silence.

His heart ached as he opened his eyes and tilted his head forward, staring at the phone, trying to make the screen come back on before he realized it was completely dead.

"Shit!" he cursed, knowing he had at least half a battery before looking around and realizing everything was dead. Cars stopped completely in the road, street lights dead, lights out inside buildings. It had to be some damn strategic, powerful EMP blast to cause that kind of blackout.

His eyes met the blank screen of his phone once more and his heart pounded in his chest. He didn't know when the line cut out, he just hoped Duo heard him. Because he would come for him, he would make it home – even if he had to walk across the whole damned country.

Quickly, he slipped his phone in his pocket and gripped the tiny velvet covered box there, clutching it in his hand for a minute, letting the texture sooth him as the ground rocked underneath him and he fought not to pitch forward. He had to make it to the fallout shelter – had to survive this so that he could get home.

It was strangely eerie not to hear emergency sirens as he stepped out from the doorway, looking back over his shoulder to see smoke rising in the distance. He lurched forward. Only two more blocks.

The ground rose up to meet him and he was momentarily stunned, ears ringing, brain completely confused over what happened until a wash of dust from collapsing buildings overtook him and he realized it was another bomb – much, much closer this time. Fuck. He stumbled to his feet, grounding himself with his carbon fiber prosthetic, and threw his elbow over his face – a useless attempt not to breathe in dust. This wasn't happening. He had to get to the fallout shelter.

People were running in a mad panic down the street, abandoning buildings and cars, but he could hardly hear them. Determination gripped him as he pushed forward, forcing himself on, ignoring the fact that all of them were faster than him. They were running right past the door to the shelter, not even aware of its existence. He would get there and there would be space for him. It would be okay. He would survive this so that he could get home.

He imagined Duo there, gripping his hand, giving him that look with expressive blue eyes that said he believed he could do damn near anything. Duo always believed in him. Always. Even though he'd seen him weak, desperate, falling apart, having PTSD related flashbacks – he never doubted him. And now wasn't the time to start proving him wrong.

The ground rocked beneath him again but he remained standing, just reached out to touch the brick of the building next to him, steadying himself. Must've dropped further away this time. There was no deafening repercussions, no backlash of debris.

Heero picked up his pace, reaching the doorway in the small amount of time the earth stood still. Only a few days ago he had scoped out this location, knew it was just down the hall of this 1960's restored financial building and a flight of stairs down but he paused once he stood inside, listening closely to the sounds of desertion. He turned and looked out the glass door, watching as every few seconds a person or two passed, running although seemingly thoughtless to where they were going.

Guilt wracked him as he looked back at the stairs to the shelter, knowing that if the situations were reversed Duo would try to offer help to those people out there, no matter how bad an idea or what the risk. No matter that they may all be dead in three weeks anyway. Once more he found himself fingering the little box, reminding himself that he wanted to be the kind of man Duo respected – the kind of man that deserved to place a ring on his finger.

"Fuck me," he grumbled under his breath as the building shook beneath him. He threw open the door then, yelling at the people passing him to get their attention.

"There's a fallout shelter here! Come on!"

Although ignored by some, a few sets of perplexed eyes blinked at him as he waved them forward impatiently, a few more people following as they saw what was happening.

"Thanks," a woman with blond hair offered breathlessly and touched his shoulder as they entered the building once more. Heero flinched away and she seemed offended but he shrugged it off.

"Sorry," he offered then, feeling guilty once more, "I just –"

His sentence never finished as he was thrown into the opposite wall by the force of the blast. Immediately, he threw his arms over his head out of habit as he hit the floor and the ceiling fell in on them. He cursed himself for going back for those fucking people who were probably dead now anyway.

But he wasn't dead. Not yet.

He coughed and his ribs ached and he didn't really want to think about what that meant as he slowly lifted broken sheetrock off himself. It was just like Fallujah all over again and he fought back the terror churning his stomach, clawing up his throat. Now was not the time to have a flashback, a breakdown.

Duo's voice was there, then, low in his ear, whispering that he was okay, that everything was okay, that he loved him and that he could do this. And he knew he didn't have a choice. He had to make it to that fallout shelter. Now, after all of this, after everything they did. He had to make it. He had to survive this. He had to get home.