Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or anything to do with them, and I do this because it's my idea of fun…

Warning: This one comes with a heavy-duty angst warning. Only to be read if you're feeling happy…I promise, things are going to get better….

Waking Up:

I've seen all those TV shows where people wake up from a coma, sometimes after weeks or months, and straightaway they're sitting up and demanding food and identifying the person who'd shoved them down the well shaft or whatever.

Real life isn't like that; at least it wasn't for me. I don't, of course, remember any of this but apparently I started to regain consciousness less than twenty-four hours after I'd been airlifted to the Sanque Royal Hospital. Given the extent of my injuries at the time, the medical staff made the decision to keep me in an induced coma until the worst of the injuries had had a chance to heal.

I always say I was unconscious for six months, I'm not quite sure why except that it sounds neat, exactly half a year; in fact, it was for just about five months. Towards the end, they were gradually weaning me off the sedatives, and I have vague memories of that time; just voices around me - Quat more than anyone, and Trowa and Wufei, Howard and Hilde and Sally and even Noin.

And Heero, of course. When I regained consciousness, I found out that he'd only ever been there in my imagination, but it had seemed real at the time.

It took a few days for my brain to engage properly, as I was weaned off various medications, and by then I knew Heero had to be dead.

I remembered a little bit of what had happened at the embassy; I remembered dancing with Heero on the terrace, and standing in his arms to watch fireworks blazing across the sky, and then the party being attacked. Other than that, I just had odd flashes of memory that didn't make any sense; something about a Leo, and exchanging grins with Trowa and me yelling at Relena.

One of the surgeons; a middle-aged woman with a calm, reassuring voice, had assured me it was common to lose memories and that they would probably come back, if I didn't try to force them.

I didn't try to force the memories of Heero getting hurt or killed, if I had witnessed it. All I knew he was that he had to dead or he would be with me. If he'd been injured, there was no way Wufei would be spending hours at my bedside. He would have been with Heero, not me.

Wufei and I had started a tentative friendship during the War, but it hadn't lasted for long. I'd never understood exactly what had gone wrong, except I'd witnessed him at a point in his life when he'd been scared to death, and it had probably embarrassed the hell out of him.

I don't think he understood why I'd refused to join the Preventers, or why I'd been so furious when Une pressured Heero into joining.

I'd tried so hard to keep in contact with him, inviting him over, even when Heero wasn't home, and after one too many curt refusals, I'd just given up.

Well, fine. Just because he was Heero's friend didn't necessarily oblige him to like me or want to spend any time with me. I'd tried not to mind. After the two of them had fallen out, I'd even tried to persuade Heero to make it up with him, but he'd refused point blank to discuss it. I'd guessed it had to be over something to do with me. 'Fei'd always been pretty dismissive of our relationship and disdainful of me, and I think he'd made one loaded comment too many and Mr Overprotective had just snapped.

As far as I knew, they hadn't made up, but I knew Wufei's concept of honour. In Heero's absence, he would feel it his responsibility to look after me.

I'd been drifting in and out of consciousness for a couple of weeks, and I woke one morning crying from the sheer weight of knowledge that Heero had to be dead. Quatre was sitting beside my bed, and he looked about as miserable as I felt, those blue eyes swimming with tears.

Oh, God. I hadn't even thought how Heero's death would affect our friends. He and Quat had always been so close, and Quat was probably picking up on my pain as well.

Heero's name was the first word I spoke in months. It wasn't even a real word, and it wasn't really speaking; more of croaked version of 'Ro?' , but of course he knew what I meant.

'Oh, Duo.' Damn, I could tell he so badly wanted to fling his arms around me, but there just wasn't enough of me that wasn't still covered in tubes or wires or casting or healing skin, so he settled for stroking my hair with one hand, close enough that I could feel his tears hot on my skin. 'I'm so sorry.'

I'd known he was dead, I'd known it, but somehow I'd still managed to phrase the word as a question.

'I'm so sorry,' Quat said again, and I wished I could make him feel better. God knows what the empathy was doing to him.

'How?' I croaked finally, when we were both all cried out.

Quat took out a neatly pressed linen handkerchief and mopped up my face a bit. 'How what?'

'Did he die?' I couldn't quite bring myself to say it out loud, but Quat had become pretty good at reading my lips. I didn't know why he was looking so puzzled. ''Ro?' I managed.

'Heero?' Quat asked, and then his face changed. 'Duo, he ….. isn't dead,' he said haltingly.

''Ro? Alive? Swear!'

'I swear…he's alive, Duo.'

I had one moment of sheer, giddy euphoria; that was all. 'Ro? Where?'

It all got a bit blurry after that but somehow I managed to yank out an IV line. I remember Quatre yelling for a nurse, and the sheer panic in his voice, and then the sting of a needle and then oblivion.

I was kept more-or-less sedated for a couple more days, but I was floating in and out of awareness for most of it. I don't think anyone realised just how awake I was. I had my own room, no doubt paid for by Quat, with its own intercom to the nurses' station outside, so they could hear if I called.

It apparently hadn't occurred to anyone that the comms system worked both ways. Dr. Marani hadn't told me much about my injuries, only that I was recovering way faster than anyone had dared to hope.

Heero'd managed to self-destruct in Wing, and Trowa had nursed him back to health in a matter of weeks. I hadn't been that lucky.

I found out what exactly was wrong, listening to the medical staff outside. I'd apparently crash-landed a Leo, something that still didn't make any sense.

I'd broken pretty much every bone in my body, even managing to surpass Heero's tally, up to and including my spine. In several places, actually. I'd had third degree burns over massive parts of my body, and the skin grafts were still healing. I'd needed lung and kidney transplants as well as several blood transfusions.

There probably wasn't that much of the original me left after they'd done with me. OK, they'd left my heart, but that was broken anyway, so it wasn't much good.

Until, I fully regained consciousness, no one was fully sure about possible brain damage. The chances of me achieving any degree of independent motor functions, let alone actually walking again, were slim.

It was Quatre who somehow pulled me out of the darkness. He was always, always there. It never occurred to me to question it at first, then I found out that he'd more or less bought up a whole floor of the hospital and transformed a couple of the wards into offices, installed a couple of assistants, and ran WEI from the room next to mine. Whenever the hospital board objected, he just wrote another cheque.

The others came and went, Wufei more often than most, but it was Quatre whom I simply knew would be my bedside.

Trowa was the easiest visitor of all. I never really knew what to say to Wufei, and he spent most of his visits reading aloud. Howard was a bit like Quat; he just couldn't accept that I was broken and he couldn't personally fix me, so he tended to talk brightly about all the things I'd be able to do when I got out, ignoring the fact that I couldn't even feed myself, or that I wasn't capable of eating solid food yet, given the tubes still in my throat.

But Tro would just sit and held my hand, and tell me little stories about the circus, or a movie he'd seen, or the book he was reading. His visits tended not to last all that often, though, and I guessed seeing me lying there had brought all those memories rushing back of when Quatre had tried to kill himself.

'….have to talk about it with him,' I woke a few days later to hear Wufei's voice and for a while I couldn't even concentrate on what he was saying, just on the sound of his voice, and how he spoke certain words with an accent I'd never noticed before.

'Not now. Not while he's still recovering.' That was Quatre, using the resolutely fierce voice that never quite matched his looks.

'He needs to know sometime, Quat.'

Quat. I'd never heard him abbreviate Quatre's name before.

Actually, I don't think I'd ever heard Wufei address two words to Quat that hadn't been directly related to a mission. Quat had tried so hard to make friends with him, after the War, when we all knew 'Fei was miserable at the Preventers, and he'd been told to mind his own business in no uncertain terms. He'd added a few choice comments on Quat's relationship with Tro for good measure and I think Quatre had had to work very hard to stop his partner from going after Wufei with some of the larger knives from his collection.

'He has to know something's wrong, or else Heero would be here with him.'

Quat snorted. 'If that bastard dares to show his face in here again, after what he's done to Duo, I swear to Allah, I'll shoot him.'

'That won't help Maxwell. You know that. You'll just get yourself into trouble.'

'It would help me,' Quatre snapped, while my brain was busily playing a loop of what the fuck is going on? Over and over. Quatre wanting to shoot Heero? Impossible. He adored Heero.

'I know he has to be told, but he's in such pain, 'Fei. All I can feel from him is misery and darkness and pain, and it hurt so much.' There was a little pause and I could almost feel him trying so hard not to cry, and I was thinking that if Wufei dared to say anything to hurt him, I would somehow drag myself out of bed and beat him over the head with my catheter.

'It's all my fault anyway,' Quatre said so quietly I almost didn't hear him.

'Don't be ridiculous, Quatre.' Wufei's voice was oddly compassionate. 'I know you need to feel responsible for everything in the entire universe, but I can't see how even you can find yourself at fault here.'

'I can,' Quatre said dolefully, blowing his nose. 'Wufei, I knew Duo was unhappy, I knew he was having a hard time adjusting to all this, but I could see Heero was trying so hard to make it work. I knew how much he loved Duo, and I thought they could sort it out between them, and Trowa said I wasn't to interfere, so I never did. I just told Duo that I knew how Heero felt about him, and that they should try to talk about all their problems. If I'd just told him to leave, then maybe he would and he wouldn't be lying here now, so it is all my own fault.'

'It's nothing of the sort,' Wufei cut in sharply, before Quat had a chance to get even more upset. 'Yuy and Maxwell are two of the most stubborn people I've ever met; if Maxwell wanted to stay with Heero, nothing in the world could have convinced him to leave. You know that. And you know he needs to know the truth about Heero. He's perfectly aware that there's something wrong, he was fretting this morning because he thinks Heero's been hurt and we're all too scared to tell him what's the matter.'

'But he's still so weak,' Quat said sadly. Oh dear, time to wake up before he had a chance to get all emotional again.

I let them fluff my pillows a bit, and give me a few sips of water, before I spoke.

'Where is he, Quat? Please. I know there's something. I swear, nothing can be as bad as the things I've been imagining. Is he off on some secret mission; is that it?'

I'd been thinking about it, for hours, and that was the only thing that remotely made any sense. That Une or Relena or someone had leaned on Heero and managed to convince him he had to go off to save the world again. Of course, Quat would be furious at him for abandoning me, and he'd probably asked Wufei to watch over me while he was gone.

I saw them exchange glances over my bed, saw Wufei give an infinitesimal nod, and Quat sat down, taking my hand.

I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut and still feeling the tears managing to leak under my lashes.

'You still don't remember anything more of that night?' Quat asked gently. 'Anything about what happened between Heero and Relena?'

Heero and Relena? That made me feel better, incredibly; there couldn't anything too serious if they were making these crazy practical jokes.

'You don't remember?' Quatre asked again, looking at me intently; I started to answer and then - stopped.

Heero and Relena.

'She was - wearing a pink dress.' It had been some shimmery fabric, with an elaborately flounced hem. I could see her now; Relena Darlian, no that was wrong, Relena Peacecraft, butterfly-fragile in her bright silks and lace, and standing in the circle of Heero's arms, his mouth bent down to hers.

'No. No. It's not true,' I muttered. 'Quatre, please. Tell me it's not true. Not now.'

'I'm sorry.'

'What happened, Quatre? I need to know. I need to know what's happened to my life. All I remember is Heero and I standing on that terrace, We were talking. He said we were going to fix everything, that he loved me. And then there were those guys attacking the party. What did I do after that?'

'You still don't remember the Leo, do you?' Wufei asked.

'I don't know,' I said wildly. 'I don't know what really happened, and what's just in my head. I don't know.'

'I think you just wanted to get away,' Quatre whispered. 'I was there, Duo. In the ballroom. I saw you come in, I saw your expression when you looked at - Heero and Relena. I think you wanted to run and the Leo was parked on the front lawn.'

'Here, Duo.' Wufei had turned away to get his briefcase and produced a handful of newspaper clippings. It made it all so real somehow, seeing the reports in black and white. And the photographs. The wreckage of the Leo - it was a wonder I'd actually survived. He held the reports for me to read; eyewitness accounts of what had happened on the night; then later speculation about what I'd been trying to do. Claims that I'd actually been a part of the attack, that I'd stolen the Leo to finish off what the terrorists had tried to do. An impassioned speech by Relena saying that I'd saved her life.

'I think you just had to get away,' Quatre said again.

I knew he wanted me to agree with him, to say that I'd just wanted to escape from it all, that I hadn't been trying to kill myself, but I couldn't. I'd no idea of what I 'd been doing.

Heero and Relena. Oh, God. I kept seeing them together, even when I closed my eyes.

'Are they…together?' I whispered.

OK, so they'd kissed. Maybe it hadn't meant anything. Maybe he'd been high on adrenalin and she'd been so terrified she'd grabbed the nearest male body for a moment's comfort.

'Here.' Wufei held out more photographs for me to see.

The first photo was above a headline which declaimed Heero Yuy's resignation from the Preventers, and then a long, gushy list of his achievements. He was in dress uniform, and Relena was pinning some sort of medal on his collar. She was smiling smugly at the camera, looking like the cat that had just corned the world cream market and had no intention of sharing even the tiniest drop. Heero was wearing an expression of armed neutrality, but he was holding her other hand.

The second picture - from some sort of trashy tabloid - showed her giving him a kiss on the cheek, and the article raved on about the universe's hottest new couple. The other photos were variations of that, complete with glowing descriptions of how the Princess had found her champion, and other such drivel.

He'd left Preventers for her. That was all I could think as Wufei unfurled a whole sheaf of photos of the two of them together.

'I'm sorry, Maxwell. Duo,' He said uncertainly.

'Yeah.' That was the worst bit about being stuck in my damn bed; nowhere to run to. I lay there, willing them both to leave, so I could have a nice, private little breakdown, minus an audience.

Quat tried a few times over the next couple of days to get me to talk about it, and I refused. Just turned my head away from him - the few inches I could manage unaided - until he got the message.

Still, no one had noticed that I had my own little link to the outside world; that I knew exactly what was being said outside my ward, courtesy of the intercom. People lie to hospital patients, they'll tell you to your face that you're doing great, that everything is fine, that of course you'll be fine.

Then they'll step outside the room and tell each other that one of your bedsores is getting infected, and that there's no point even starting physiotherapy at this rate.

On the plus side, I learned that one of my nurses had a crush on my chief surgeon; that one of the interns had a serious crush on Wufei; and, once Trowa got back, I got to hear some cute little talks between him and Quat.

'I want to get some proper nightclothes for him,' Quat was saying one morning. 'He's not unconscious any more, and I hate seeing him in those stupid hospital gowns. I talked to that nice Dr. Marani and she said he could probably wear natural fibres. Linen or silk, maybe.'

'I'm sure Duo would like that, sprite,' Trowa said indulgently. Sprite! I had to wonder how Quat liked that particular pet name; one I hadn't heard before.

It was so good to hear his voice again, though. He'd been gone for a couple of days, sorting out security for a new Winner Conference Centre in Berlin, and I'd missed him.

'We could go shopping this evening, if you like. Maybe even have dinner out together for a change.' I could hear a little smile entering Trowa's voice. 'And maybe Duo would let you have one of his old gowns in return. That colour matches your eyes, and you'd look very sexy with your ass hanging out.'

'Would I really?' Quat murmured coyly, and I could tell he was starting to have all sorts of doctor-and-patient fantasies. 'You'd look really hot in one of those white coats, you know. With a stethoscope and some of those latex gloves.'

'Behave yourself, kitten,' Trowa growled. 'or I'll have to put you across my knee.'

'Trowa!' Quat gasped, sounding affronted and shocked but with a very definite edge of excitement and Tro picked up on that straightaway.

'Would you like that, Quatre? Would you like to be facedown on my lap where anyone could walk past?'

Oh dear God, please no…

He started saying something about the last time they'd been in the WEI boardroom and I wondered if I could just die if I stopped breathing for long enough.

'Trowa!' Quatre interrupted his partner's account of what exactly they'd done on a leather swivel chair just in time for me to take a deep breath.

'Very good, kitten. You've remembered my name,' Trowa murmured, using that special sexy voice that I'd overheard a couple of times when they didn't know I was listening. Then his tone changed to pure concern. 'What is it, my angel?'

'Don't call me that,' Quatre said automatically; he'd always hated that particular endearment. 'I just feel it's - wrong - for us to be so happy when Duo's like this. It's not fair, Trowa.'

'I know it's not. Oh, Quatre, don't cry,' Trowa soothed, and I could just imagine him taking Quat in his arms, trying to give him strength. 'You can't bear the pain of the whole world, you know that. And Duo wouldn't want you upsetting yourself.'

'I can't help it,' Quatre sobbed. 'I hate seeing him like this, and I can feel how much pain he's in and I - it's so hard, Tro.'

'I know,' Trowa murmured; there was silence after that for a while, and I really, really hoped none of the medical staff happened along.

Quat was all rosily flushed when they finally came in to my room, and just a little bit red about the eyes. I politely ignored that, just as I didn't comment on the fact the buttons on his shirt had been done up incorrectly, and it was a rather on the rumpled side. They'd stayed at my house a few times, and we'd shared enough thin-walled safe houses together during the War, for me to know that those two had a very active sex life.

I hadn't realised doing it in public was one of Quat's particular kinks, though; God knows, he'd told me most of the other stuff. It did make sense though; a little rebellion for the perfect Winner heir.

We chatted for a little bit; at least Quat prattled on about one of his sister's new baby, and some deal he was trying to pull off, and what they'd had for breakfast earlier.

'I heard the doctors this morning, after their rounds, Quat,' I interrupted suddenly. 'Is it true? That I'm never going to be able to walk?'

'Of course it's not true, Duo! It's far too soon to know for sure. And it's only their opinion anyway! I've been doing lots of research; there's a clinic in Switzerland that specialises in spinal injuries, it's the best in the world, and I've sent them your charts and they think they'll be able to help.' He was talking faster and faster, eyes fixed firmly on my heart monitor. Quatre Raberba Winner in full flight; utterly convinced he can solve all the world's problems if he only applies himself. Any minute, he'd be saying he had a plan to study medicine so he could fix me himself.

'Not now, angel,' Trowa interrupted suddenly. 'Duo appreciates everything you're trying to do, but right now I think he wants to hear the truth.'

'Oh!' Quatre gave one convulsive little sob and fled.

'Go after him! Trowa, please.'

'He'll be OK,' Tro murmured. 'You know Quat; sometimes he calms down quicker if he doesn't have a shoulder to cry on. He just needs a few minutes to himself.'

A few minutes away from me, he meant, screwing up every one of poor Quat's emotions.

'Now, tell me what you heard.'

I told him, haltingly, putting together all the snippets of information I'd heard since I'd woken up. All the stuff that no one had actually come out and told me . The sheer relief of having someone just listen to me, and not rush to assure me that of course everything would be fine, that I wasn't to worry, that I was to concentrate on getting stronger.

'Is it true?' I kept my eyes fixed on his. 'Just tell me, Tro. Please.'

'Some of it's true. Not all. You do know how badly your spine was hurt, don't you? They more or less had to rebuild it.' He gave me a tiny grin. 'There was damage to your central nervous cord as well; that's the main problem and they can't tell how bad it is until you actually try walking. Anyway, it will take time and huge amounts of physiotherapy, but it's not impossible that you will regain a certain amount of mobility.'

'Oh, God.' OK, I'd pretty much guessed all of that but actually hearing it…made it totally real.

All I could think of was the cripples on L2. People who'd got diseases as kids and had never been treated; or who'd lost limbs in various accidents, begging and scrounging for trash in the gutter.

'No,' he said forcefully. 'I swear, Duo, that will never happen to you. Nothing like that.' I hadn't meant to say any of that aloud. Obviously had, though. 'You have people who care about you. You're not alone any more.'

Yeah. It all came down to the same thing, really, didn't it? Whether I'd be surviving on the casual handouts of strangers, or my friends' charity, I'd still be spending the rest of my life as a useless liability.

'I - need to see Heero.'

I'm not sure how I'd expected him to react, but he just nodded. 'I know that. When?'

'S-soon,' I swallowed. 'Tro. Do you think he'll come?'

'Of course he will.' He looked mildly surprised at the question. 'Duo, you know he…'

'And don't tell Quat,' I said quickly. 'Please, Tro. Or anyone. This is something I have to do; it's no one else's business.'

He came the next morning, at precisely ten o'clock. Trowa had taken Quat shopping for something or other; Wufei had gone into Preventers HQ for a couple of hours. Tro had arranged everything.

Heero had looked good in the photographs I'd seen; not happy or anything, but then he hated having his picture taken. But he'd looked like he belonged at all those fancy shindigs, a beaming Relena on his arm.

In the flesh, he looked terrible; like he hadn't slept for days.

'Oh, Duo. It's so good to be see you awake.'

Yeah, sure. You could've seen me awake days ago, if you'd been that bothered.

Unlike Quat, who always took a few minutes to figure out where best to touch me, Heero slid his right hand over mine easily, and fastened the other hand around the end of my braid.

I wasn't going to cry. That was all I wanted; not to cry in front of him. Just to do this without breaking down. He wasn't making it easy, sitting there with his head bowed, and the touch of his skin against mine.

'I'm so sorry,' he whispered finally. 'Duo, my love, please. Let me explain.'

'You can't. You can't, Heero. Not this.' Damn, this was hellishly difficult. 'I want you to go. Now.'

'No! please, let me explain. You have to let me at least do that.'

'I don't have to do anything, actually.' I forced myself to look at him. 'You told me once, the first time you screwed me, that you would never, never force me to do anything I didn't want. Was all that just a lie so you could get into my pants?'

'Of course it wasn't! Duo, my love, please listen to…'

'No,' I snapped as forcefully as I could. 'You damn well listen to me. I'm telling you that it's over. Got that? At least, I had the honesty to say it to you in person. You didn't even have the decency to do that for me, did you?'

'Duo, please. Please. Can you just give me a chance to explain? Can't I at least have that?'

'I don't bloody well owe you anything, Yuy. Just go.'

'Tell me that's really what you want.'

'Right. It's what I want. Will you go now?'

Just get the fuck out of here, while I can still do this. Please.

He stood up slowly, sliding his hand over mine after one gentle squeeze. 'I still love you. I swear it, Duo. I'm not taking this as the end. You can't just finish it like this.'

But I could, actually. I had to.