MILHARU: Thank you so much! I hope you will enjoy this update :)
starless-ocean: People can develop a taste for sweets or a taste for fine food in general :) The braid is an ironic statement because long hair is very feminine and as described Duo has a very masculine built. The braid says something unexpected and contradictive about him (that he is feminine). That makes it an ironic statement :) Thanks for reviewing again :) I really hope you will continue to follow the story.
kami-da-vixen: Thank you, how nice to hear :)
Frayedsoul: I hope you will appreciate this update as well :) Thank you so much for reviewing again :)
Snowdragonct: Hopefully Duo can once more win over Heero's trust AND yours :P :) 'm glad that you are at least out of that relationship where you were not appreciated. I hope that in spite of the personal connection, you can continue to enjoy the story :) Thank you so much for reviewing as always :)
Pikeebo: I can't tell from your review if you like the story a or not, but at least you seem to feel strongly about the plot so that is good :) Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, I do hope you are enjoying the story :)
Muchacha: Well, then I hope I can continue to give you complicated feelings :) I never intended for this story to clear cut. From the reviews it is clear to me that people have very different perspectives on cheating and now - because of that - on Duo. I hope however that in the end, everyone will find a way to enjoy the enjoy the story :) Thank you so much for leaving a review for all three chapters, even if it was backwards :P
Shinigamia: I'm very glad to read you are enjoying the story and happy to answer any questions that do not give away the plot :) Hilde's side: you might figure it out through the bits and pieces that are revealed between Duo and Heero, but I suppose resolution doesn't come until much later, I hope you will continue to read that long and that you will not be disappointed :) Timeframe: This story will have an ending shortly after the birth, however, I have a sequel planned that will take place after. Thank you for your very flattering compliment (it went straight to my head and now I can't fit through regular sized doorways anymore :P) and for reading my stories :)
CircleKV12: I hope you will continue to like the flashbacks as each chapter will contain one, through which half of the story (the ten years that have passed) will be told :S Let me know how that works out :) Sorry for the delayed update, but I'm currently working my ass off to redeem myself :) Thank you for reviewing!
TheSpaz: I proudly present to you: more :P
Guest: I'm really happy and flattered that you seem to be enjoying my stories. And thank you very much for sharing your thoughts with me regarding the adultery Loneliest Road deals with. Obviously it's very delicate. Personally I must reveal that in my opinion a one-time affair is forgivable. I think that even though cheating on your wife/husband is worse than cheating on your girlfriend/boyfriend I also feel you owe it more to each other to try to work through it, instead of instantly swinging the axe. The fate of the relationship depends all on whether or not you can work it out. I really hope you will continue to read this story and my others. Thank you so much for reviewing :)
Author's note:
VERY IMPORTANT: This story has not been beta'd! You have to make due with my admittedly challenged understanding of English grammar :S My beta, the much appreciated CaramelAriana, is experiencing technical difficulties, so she currently doesn't have much opportunity to beta my chapters. Because I have updates for all my stories lying in wait, I've decided, with her approval, to update stories pre-beta (just giving them an extra proofread myself to weed out the most embarrassing errors to the best of my abilities). When she finds the time and a working computer, she will beta them after the fact and I will replace them with the new and improved version when she is finished with them. I figured this way you wouldn't have to wait any longer for a new chapter and hopefully the spelling errors won't be too bad. I hope this compromise suits you :)
Loneliest Road
Chapter Four
We arrived at Reno late at night, but the city was bright as day. Fluorescent neon lights flickered and sparkled in the most obnoxious array of color. Many of the signs were old-fashioned, modeled after pre-colony style.
The silhouette of a scantily clad woman, whose leg kicked up and down. A cowboy continuously brought a cigarette to his mouth and then electric blue lights would flicker - smoke, supposedly. A golf club kept hitting a hole-in-one resulting in imitated fireworks.
Maybe my eyes would have held some kind of wonder in beholding the unearthly sight of abundant lights, had the situation been different, but I had made them to be dead and dim. As Duo drove us deeper into the city, slowly moving the car through dense traffic, I felt trepidation, restlessness. The lights were like caffeine to the nerves, I was in my highest state of alertness.
We didn't go straight to the hotel. First, Duo took me to the car-museum. The parking lot was nearly completely empty, old cars didn't attract much of a crowd these days and according to posters plastered on every available wall there was some sort of rock and roll event in the outskirts of the city, which probably drew people away from most of the city's other attractions.
"It's late," I commented as Duo found us a spot close to the entry.
"That's not a problem." He nodded to the lit sign over the arched doorway.
OPEN 24/7!
I had seen many similar signs on the way in. It seemed the city had truly defied the concept of night.
I followed Duo inside and watched him shell out money for two entry tickets. Inside the space was cool and mostly quiet. Video screens were suspended off the ceiling and showed old footage of long forgotten car races. Throughout the hangar-like space, cars dating back as far as the early twenty-first century were put on display, brightly lit, some on spinning platforms.
"Look at this!" Duo trotted over to a red convertible that looked familiar. "This is an earlier edition of our car."
At least that one was in mint condition, as opposed to just mint green, I thought bitterly, taking in the glossy tomato red paint job and eying my distorted reflection in the chrome of the bumper.
He showed me more cars, all of which I met with the same lack of enthusiasm. Duo wasn't blind, nor deaf to my less than stellar attitude, but as he always did, he did not give up on trying to cheer me up. It had been a successful strategy in the past, but now my gloom was too heavy to be lifted by lighthearted jokes and dry puns. After a parade of cars of unfamiliar make and model, Duo realized he had to give in to defeat. He yawned loudly and leisurely stretched his arms, making a show of it, and then said: "Man, I'm beat! Is it okay with you if we head out and look for our hotel?"
Knowing the whole charade was for my benefit, I simply nodded. Soon we were back in the mint green monster that huffed and puffed it's way across town to a hotel located in a more quiet district. We took turns showering - me going first - and I feigned sleep by the time Duo emerged from the bathroom. I felt the mattress dip as he settled next to me. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head. I was startled by the feather light touch of his fingers on my bare shoulder, but managed to maintain the game of pretense. I heard him sigh, then felt him place a light kiss against the back of my neck, before he rolled all the way to the other end of the bed, seemingly miles away.
"I'm sorry, Heero," he whispered breathily.
I wondered if he knew I was awake, but I kept pretending not to be.
The lights were switched off and then he quickly fell asleep, exhausted from a long day of driving.
After much focused effort, I managed to find sleep as well. A memory came to me in the form of a dream.
Early AC 197
The wind was cold but gentle as it played with my air and brushed across my cheeks. The sun was too bright for my eyes, the colors of the surroundings too intense for me to see any other way than through the lashes of my squinted eyes. My skin was sweaty, my face flushed. Walking even a short distance had somehow became an exhaustive task. My body felt sickly, not like my own, lacking every form of strength, barely holding on to the ability to stand. My knees shook. I shivered like a shriveled leaf in the mighty winds of fall, about to drop from the branch and officially be considered as dead. I was panting, I needed to sit down, but I wasn't thinking straight. I was overwhelmed, steerless.
For the first time in my life, I was alone. For the first time in my life, I was my own person. No orders to follow. No greater good to strive for. Whether I go left, right, or straight ahead, was completely up to me. No one was going to point me the way, whisper directions in my ear, or physically push me.
Never before had I less like myself. I realized there was no 'self', only the soldier, but he was of no use to me in peace time.
I was an empty shell.
It was very confrontational. It had never dawned on me before, now that it had, every prospect was daunting.
"Sir? Are you waiting for someone, sir?"
As no one else responded, I realized the voice had been calling me. I turned my stiff neck to face a young nurse I had seen several times, attending the wing where I recovered from my multiple surgeries. She wrapped a thick grey coat around herself as she stepped through the automatic doors of the hospital lobby and joined me outside in the chill of a late Luxembourg January.
I looked at her quizzically. Everything confused me in that moment.
"Mister Yuy is it, right?" She ducked her head between her shoulders, the cold affecting her more than me.
I nodded slowly.
"Are you waiting for your friend?"
"My friend?" I asked with croaked voice.
"Yes, the young man that was with you."
Right, my friend. He was gone now. "He had somewhere else to be," I explained.
"Is someone else coming to pick you up? Aren't you freezing?"
I was momentarily confused by her double question, then answered in order: "No and... I don't know." My clothes were thin, so I knew I should be cold, but I just felt hot and sweaty, after having exerted myself making my way through the hospital.
She frowned. "I didn't know you had been released."
I hadn't been. I decided it was time to go. I was quick to lose that decisiveness, being faced with a world full of difficult decision, beginning with: where do I go? I didn't answer her and I supposed that, in itself, was an answer. It sure was enough for her.
She looked back over her shoulder, as if she contemplated alerting the other nurses to my premature departure, but she didn't. "Do you have money?"
I shook my head, I only had the clothes Duo had given me, everything else, my whole previous identity, was still in the plastic bag under my hospital bed. I was confident they would dispose of it, then, at the very least, I would be free.
She sighed and then pushed one hand into her pocket, digging around. She pulled out her wallet and approached me.
I tensed up as she neared me. Fight or flight? Fight or Flight?! In the end, inaction was all I could decide on.
She pulled out several foreign bills and handed them to me. Her expression was one I recognized. One of the few. J had looked at me like that many times, though his intentions had been ill. No-room-for-argument.
With slow movements I accepted her generosity, speechless, still very much confused.
"That should be enough for a taxi and a night or two in a hotel. I'm afraid it's all I have." She walked past me and waved over one of the loitering taxi cabs that was parked a short distance away from us. It pulled up before us and she reached over to open the door. She looked back at me expectantly.
I wasn't sure it was right of me to accept her money, but I was aware that I had not been left with much choice. Relena had arranged richly filled bank accounts for all us former Gundam pilots, but it was blood money and I refused to take it. I didn't know much of making a living in a time of peace, making peace with yourself as well, but somehow I had come to the conclusion that buying a carton of milk with blood money wasn't going to help.
I put the crumpled bills I had been handed in the pocket of vest and stepped into the cab.
She shut the door and through the glass she offered me a smile, before turning on her heels and making her way back to the warmth of the hospital with hurried steps.
The cab driver slid open the plastic window separating the front from the back. Cigarette smoke blew from his mouth and nostrils as he asked me where to take me.
Still having some healing to do - needing to adjust to a new liver and wait for the stitches to dissolve and the tissue to scar and heal - I asked him to take me to the cheapest hotel in the vicinity. The nurse had not given me much, I would have to find a way to make it last as long as possible. I could have recuperated at the hospital, at Relena's expense, but there I knew I could be found and I didn't want to be found. I didn't want war comrades to pity me, to feel like they are responsible for me. It would be like rolling over a desert rock and pitying a coiled rattle snake. I was dangerous, whether or not I wanted to be. Look at Duo. He cared for me, at one point he even seemed to genuinely like me. But I could offer nothing in return, I could only coil back into myself and rattle my tail. He left just in time. I would have bitten him and left him for dead, emotionally speaking.
The taxi maneuvered through old, narrow streets. The buildings became increasingly more rundown. The sun started to set but the part of the city we were in barely came to life with lights, only dim lamps behind thick curtains and closed shutters. He stopped in front of a brown, plastered building, the streetlamp in front of it flickered, the bulb on its last stretch of life.
I was shivering violently and hesitated to get out of the cab.
"You asked for the cheapest," he reminded me.
"I know." I handed him money through the opening, just enough for the fair. Effortfully, I crawled out of the vehicle and stumbled across the pavement to the heavy front door of the building. Nowhere did it say it was a hotel. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. I was sheltered from the wind, but it wasn't much warmer. There was a bald, unsanitary looking man sitting behind a rotten desk, his feet propped onto it. A gun lay blatantly on a stack of papers. His hands blindly searched for the handle as he spotted me. He fingered it idly as he looked me up and down. On his neck he had a stylized tattoo of a penis on one side, a skull with hollow eyes on the other. The knuckles on his right hand had "FUCK" inked into the skin, the knuckles of his left hand: "LOVE"
I was guarded, but not afraid.
"I need a room," I said in German in my trademarked monotone.
He replied: "And I need a hot piece of ass. Maybe we can work something out?" He grinned, baring his stained teeth.
His remark didn't concern me, I didn't presume him to be serious and even if he was, despite my current physical state I would still be able to handle him. "I have money."
"That'll do I guess."
I counted the bills in my hand, feeling his eyes on me. I tucked away some for food and offered him the majority of it.
He counted the money, checking for counterfeit. "Three days," he said.
I deemed that reasonable, the money hadn't been much. I nodded in agreement.
He produced an old-fashioned key with a room number pressed into it. "Enjoy your stay. Dial one for room service..." He let out a loud cackle but it turned into a sickly cough. Distracted, he pointed me down the hallway as he tried to subdue his heaving.
I followed the hallway to a flight of stairs. On the second floor I found a door with a number that corresponded with the one on my key. It took some persuasion - force - but I managed to unlock the creaking door and flicked on the single, overhead light. The room wasn't much. A single bed. A wooden chair. A small window with wrought iron bars, overlooking a dark alley. Mold stained a corner of the ceiling. No phone. No bathroom, only a plaque on the inside of the door with directions to the common bathroom down the hall.
I had suffered worse, at a higher price, so there were no complaints. With no closet and no possessions to store away, I headed straight for the bed, falling down onto it. The mattress was hard, the pillow lumpy and the sheets itchy, but I was exhausted. To rest my heavy legs felt heavenly regardless. I blacked out very quickly.
I woke up a couple of times, only briefly, disoriented, sweaty and feverish, feeling the ache in my back and in my abdomen where they had had to cut me open. Never could I muster the energy to get up, not even to relieve myself. At one point, I was vaguely aware of wetting my pants. I couldn't move to check my watch for the time or date. I had no awareness of the time that passed. I just kept falling back into a fuzzy darkness.
As deep into that blackness as I was, my body had not forgotten its training and was still focused on its surrounding. A sudden, muted sound felt like a pinch in my ear, persistently pulling me out of the immersive experience of unconsciousness. Then, with a start, I was awake, my eyes wide open, staring at the opposite wall. The sound I recognized as someone fumbling with the lock of the door, the same way I had fumbled with it.
The room was dark until the door was pried open and a bar of cold light cut through the space, straight across my face.
Adrenaline started to pump as the door was pushed open all the way and a tall silhouette appeared, but it wasn't easy to fire up my muscles and will myself into motion.
When the figure noticed movement, it stilled and then a gritty voice sounded. "It's been over three days. I need more payment."
With stiff, tired movements I sat up, recognizing the voice as that of the man from downstairs. More than three days? No wonder I was as weak now as when I had gone to bed, I hadn't had a thing to eat or drink all that time. "I passed out," I tried to explain.
"There are no excuses." He firmly shut the door behind him and momentarily I was blind in the sudden dark. "I know you don't have enough money to repay me."
Though my mind was incoherent, I noted he didn't sound angry, he sounded... pleased.
"Look, I'm not a bad guy or anything," the man said as he came closer to the bed. "All I really want is a blowjob, that's not unreasonable, is it?"
My face felt hot as blood rushed through my veins to awaken my limbs and spur them into action. I felt him coming closer and started to smell his foul breath, a smell even stronger than that of my own urine. I closed my eyes, feeling instincts becoming me. There was no stopping it, my body knew what to do and my mind didn't know how to stop it.
The instant I felt his large, calloused hand on my shoulder, about to urge me forward, I covered it with my own, holding it in place as I snapped my left hand from left to right, connecting powerfully with his outstretched forearm. It yielded. The bone snapped where I hit it. The man screamed. In pain he doubled over, his other hand reaching for my thigh. I didn't know if he was just reaching for support or if he was continuing the attack. My body didn't leave me time to think it over. My left arm, that was still over on the other side, pushed back. The sharp end of my elbow collided with the back of his neck as he came forward, into my personal space. There was another snap of bone. This time there was no scream. The body went limp, he sagged against me but I immediately pushed him away and he fell to the grungy carpet with a thud.
Dead.
I panted through my wide open mouth and stared at him. I knew I should feel bad, but I didn't feel anything. I just felt more tired. Still, I leaned forward and vomited. There was little left in me to cough up. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and then rose on shaky legs. I stepped over his crumpled body and walked away.
Recognizing I needed sanitary clothing to prevent infection, I went downstairs and found the room the man had been staying in. He lived in an equally cramped room in his own 'hotel', but there was a closet with clean clothes. I took a pair of sweatpants and a belt upstairs with me, to the bathroom, where I cleaned myself, discarded my pants in the tub and lit them on fire and washed my underwear in the sink with soap, drying it with a blow-dryer.
Outside it was pouring rain, I was soaking wet in an instance. In the distance a church bell rang three times. Three AM. I walked over to a working streetlamp and looked at my watch for the date.
25-01-197
I had left the hospital the twenty-third. Less than three days had past, not more. The man had lied, relying it would make me more subjective to accepting his abuse.
I didn't feel anything. Only one thought crossed my mind: If I had let him rape me, I would still have a place to sleep, rather than being on the run. I wondered if I had made the wrong decision by fighting him off.
I went back inside and searched the desk I had found him sitting at the day I arrived. In a bottom drawer I found a locked, metal box. I placed the box against the side of the desk, just the lock resting on the surface and then pounded my elbow down on the box. The lock snapped off. I lost my grip on the box and it fell to the floor, crumpled bills scattered. I gathered all it off, a couple of hundred bucks. I needed the money and at least by stealing the money, the murder would look like a rather straightforward mugging.
With my pockets stuffed with bills I went back outside. The rain plastered my bangs to my forehead and droplets gathered on my lashes, making it hard to see the dark streets ahead of me. After walking a couple of blocks, I found a pub that was still open.
OPEN 24/7! was written on a chalkboard outside, the words quickly fading in the downpour of rain.
There was only a bartender and a single patron, both looked at me as I stepped inside.
"You look a little too young for me to be serving you a strong drink, son, even though you look like you could use one," the bartender commented in French.
"I just want something to eat," I said in the appropriate language.
"This isn't exactly the place to be looking for fine Luxembourg cuisine, son, but I can fry something for you."
I nodded.
He disappeared through a door.
I seated myself at a table in the corner, as for away from the other man as I could. About five minutes later I was brought a plate of a variety of greasy fried foods and a large glass of water. I paid and was then gratefully left alone. I ate in small, tentative bites, not sure how much of that kind of food my stomach would be able to handle. It was also a good way to pass the time as the rain still came down in buckets.
Over two hours later, while I was nursing a complementary cup of tea, a police car with blaring sirens passed by. A mere flash of a white and orange vehicle and red and blue blinking lights.
"So what's your name, kid?" The bartender asked.
His sudden interest following the passing by of the police car alerted me. "Kid is fine."
He chuckled from behind the bar. "You must have a name."
"Not really," I replied surprisingly candidly.
"Well, what did your old man call you?"
I knew generally speaking "old man" was a comical, lighthearted reference to someone's father, but the only old man I had in my life was J, so I said: "Heero." That is what he called me.
He smiled. "That's a good name." He paused briefly, then started again: "There was a good fellow in the colonies named Heero. Heero Yuy. Long while back. Folk remember him as a real hero, sad story though. I suppose it's no coincidence your name is Heero too. You must have heard many stories about him."
I sighed and looked down at my cup. "There is really no need for small-talk."
He snorted. "Jeez... kids these days."
I figured I had probably outstayed my welcome, so I finished my tea and headed back outside. The rain clouds had drifted past, the sky was crisp, dotted with faint stars. I dragged my feet as I walked, my body was still exhausted, my abdomen stung with pain, my hip throbbed. I felt neither awake nor unconscious. I felt dead. There were no thoughts, no emotions. There was a telling lack of everything.
In the early morning, the sunrise a mere suggestion at the horizon, I found another hotel, one a little more decent. I had more then enough money for a couple of days. During the days and during the nights, I mostly slept, my body was in desperate need of it. I went out only once to buy food -no perishables - new bandaging, medication and a few fresh sets of clothes. I was soon running low on cash. With the last of it, I bought a train ticket, with no particular destination in mind. I counted the remaining money in my pocket, approached the ticket sales desk and asked which train ticket's costs came closest to the amount I had left. Still feeling indecisive about the greater scheme of things, I figured it was as close to fate as possible and it would be a good way to experiment with the concept of fate.
Forty minutes later I was seated in the second class area of a high-speed train to Amsterdam, the Netherlands, with seventy fours cents left in my pocket. I had no idea why I was going there, or what I would do once I got there. I didn't really know why I bothered to travel at all, but I had myself convinced it was because I needed to get out of the war-torn city and away from my victim, in case polisce would come looking for me in relation to either the war or the murder.
In hindsight, I believed I was actually looking for something, even though I didn't understand yet at that time what I was looking for. I just knew that whatever it was, it obviously hadn't been in Luxembourg.
I knew later that I was looking for a feeling. Any feeling, as long as it was real and meant something. Love, hate, guilt, happiness, I wasn't picky. I needed reassurance that the shell that I was could be filled with something... human. I needed to not feel nothing after just killing someone. How else could I stop myself from being this monster that I was taught to call the soldier?
For some reason, in that train, thundering through the flat, green landscape, I thought of Duo. I remembered feeling something when he kissed me, but had forgotten what it had been - or had never really known to begin with. However vague it was, it was a promise. A promise that, on the condition that I was open to it, I could feel.
It would turn out to be a long, discouraging, painful search.
AC 206
"Heero. Heero."
With a gasp I sat up straight. I felt sweat cooling on my exposed skin. My breath came in arduous pants.
"It's okay. You were having a nightmare," Duo said softly, his hand on my shoulder, his thumb moving in circles.
I wiped my brow with the back of my hand, trying to control the unsettling feeling in my stomach.
"It's been a while since you a had a nightmare," he noted with concern.
"Those are in the past."
"You weren't dreaming about your training?"
"No."
"What were you dreaming about?"
"Nothing. I don't know."
Worried, he continued: "Were you dreaming about your time in Amsterdam?"
Knowing he wouldn't relent until I would give him an honest answer, I replied: "Luxembourg."
His thumb briefly stilled. "Heero," he insisted softly, leaning in closer, "that man wanted to molest you and you were probably one of only few who managed to protect themselves. He does not deserve your guilt."
"I killed someone after promising myself I would never do that again. I know now that if I wouldn't feel guilt, there would be something wrong with me, in spite of the kind of man he may or may not have been." I looked at him poignantly. "Not everyone brushes off guilt so easily," I accused.
His hand disappeared. His expression was one of shock and hurt. "You think I don't feel guilty? For what I did to you? For cheating on you?" He shook his head. "Heero, guilt has been eating at me ever since that night. You see, I made a promise to myself too, that I would never let you down again, the way I did when I left you that day in that hospital. I broke that promise, a promise not only to me, but to you as well," he held up his hand, showing the wedding band on his ring finger, "and it's... gut-wrenching, whenever I think of it, whenever I imagine how you must have felt. 'Guilt' doesn't even come close. That is not something I can brush off, I will forever carry that. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you." He touched my neck with his warm hand, trying to sooth me, trying to reconnect.
I allowed myself a single moment to relish its warmth before shaking it off.
"Hopefully one day I'll earn your trust and love back."
I let out a long sigh. "You have more important things to worry about now." I was startled when he reached out both his hands to cup my face, he repositioned to look deeply into my eyes.
"Nothing is more important than you," he assured me with an emotional tone.
I bit back a scathing remark: that I must not have seemed all that important to him the night he decided to sleep with Hilde. I thought it nevertheless. Even though I knew he loved me and trusted that I was of great importance to him, I didn't have faith that Duo's priorities would never waver again. I couldn't help but doubt if I could ever trust him again, the way I once did. I hated that. However, I did not hot hate him. It was confusing.
I hated that too.
There was only one thing I knew to be true and to be constant, that he was most important to me.
It was ironic how the tables had turned on me. I used to be the one letting people down, not being able to return their emotional investment, disappointing them with my actions that lacked compassion and understanding. In a way, I was getting what I had dished out. I wondered if there was some higher purpose to that.
I was still a foolish student, being whipped for his unknowing mistakes. Only this punishment left no welts on my back, but scarring on my heart.
I abruptly ended the conversation by lying back down, facing away from him and stubbornly pulling up the sheets to cover myself up to my neck. The rest of the night was uneasy as I remembered the past, all the while acutely aware from the rhythm of Duo's breathing that he was also still awake. With dry, sore eyes I watched as sunlight started to filter through the drawn curtains, announcing the arrival of morning, a new day. Not having to pretend to be asleep anymore, I promptly got out of bed and started to get dressed.
"Do you want me to order room service or shall we go down to the hotel restaurant?" Duo tiredly asked as he stretched his limbs, trying to act normal and not feed the tension that was raging between us.
Generally my preference would go to room service. However much improvement and personal development I had gone through, crowded places still had me on edge, but that morning, the prospect of a completely quiet breakfast opposite of Duo, bathing in the tense atmosphere that had filled up the hotel room, seemed more challenging to me than facing a restaurant full of people, so I opted for the latter option.
We packed our bags and brought them to the car, confident no one would be balsy enough to steal them in broad daylight from our car's trunk, with people walking around. Then we returned the keycard to the front desk and found a small table by the wall of glass overlooking the pool, where the first of young children had gathered and were splashing around.
It was a buffet. Duo offered to get me a plate. Feeling absentminded, I let him.
I watched the children play in the shallow end of the pool as I waited for Duo to return with our breakfast. A young girl in a pink, polka-dot bathing suit sat on the first step into the water, her index fingers drawing playful patterns into the surface of the water and she seemed fascinated watching them disappear as she drew them. Two, slightly older boys - twins -, both in navy blue trunks, were waist deep in the pool, splashing water at each other and wrestling. From underneath the shadow of a strategically planted tree a mother in a straw sunset watched diligently, a book in her lap that was not getting much attention. A man - the husband, the father - walked over with a plate of melon and offered her a piece, then a kiss, before taking the plate to the children, holding it out to them.
They sure made it seem easy, I thought to myself. It seemed such a straightforward concept: family. Mom. Dad. Kids. Happiness ensues. How did we manage to fuck it up so royally?
"Cute kids," Duo said by way of announcing his return, he placed a plate richly filled with delicious, fresh food in front of me.
I was sure he felt the same stinging pain in his heart as I did in mine.
"They sure didn't waste any time getting in the water," he continued with a soft voice, sitting down and looking out the window.
"It's the desert," I pointed out in reply, "it'll soon get too hot to play out in the sun."
"Hm."
I watched him casually eat a large, vibrant red strawberry. I blinked away images of a misplaced, inappropriate memory. I noticed the look in his eyes as they trailed the father, who had joined the kids in the pool and was play-attacking the two boys and making the young daughter laugh with his bizarre expressions. It was a look of longing and worry at the same time.
I didn't want him to look like that. I didn't want him to feel like that.
"You will make a good father," I told him sincerely.
He looked at me in surprise at my unexpectedly kind comment. "Yeah?" He asked with a grateful smile.
I nodded, then looked away, his expression made me feel uncomfortable, because I wasn't done being angry with him yet, but it was difficult to dislike him when he looked at me like that: utterly loving.
"So will you."
I didn't respond. It was unsurprisingly painful.
"Heero," he started tentatively in a hushed voice, "we can still have a child of our own, together. If you want. Just because..." He bit his lip. After composing himself, he nodded outside, at the happy family. "We can still have that."
"Maybe we're not supposed to," I commented, pushing a strawberry around my plate with my silver fork.
"What?"
"Because we're gay, maybe we're not supposed to, maybe it's not meant to be that way. I mean, look at what happened."
He frowned. "That doesn't sound like you at all."
"You are having a baby with Hilde now, not with me," I bit. "Maybe you should accept that Hilde and I represent two different lives for you and you should choose which life you want. Do you want that," I nodded outside, "or do you want me?" I gazed at him challengingly.
The sudden aggression in my voice perplexed him and he needed a moment to figure out a response. "Heero, this trip is not about me making a decision. I have to be there for Hilde, out of duty, responsibility, but it's you I want to be with, out of love." He shook his head and added: "Besides, why would our life together have to be different from straight couples all of a sudden? Is this change of heart because of the situation with Hilde, or because-"
"This is probably not the right time or place to discuss this," I interrupted. I couldn't let him finish that sentence. I was fearful of the emotions it would awaken. Or maybe I was most afraid there might be a lack of emotion.
He sat back in his seat, he appeared deflated. "I guess you're right..." He looked around, noticing a couple at the table closest to ours had been stealing glances. "Can I help you?" He asked, his tone dangerous.
The couple shared a glance between them and then looked down at their plates.
"Heero, tell me, why did you stay with me after I told you of my night with Hilde?" Duo inquired quietly. "I can tell being with me hurts you," he rightfully observed.
"Being without you would hurt me even more," I answered, refusing eye-contact. From experience I knew this to be the truth.
He reached out across the table and gently took hold of both my hands, cradling them in his own. Two of his fingers idly toyed with the wedding ring on my finger. He stared at our entwined hands intently.
The soldier part of me, that I had allowed to come back to life for the sake of my own protection, whispered venomously in my ear to pull my hands back into my lap, but I didn't want to, so I didn't. The soldier was weakened. Weaker now than me. He couldn't order me anymore, couldn't hurt me anymore, but unfortunately, consequently, he also couldn't protect me anymore.
"I will do anything and everything to make being with me stop hurting," he promised solemnly. "But sometimes I don't know what that is, when you pull away from me, when you shut yourself off from me. I don't want you to mistake my confusion for indifference, or choosing Hilde over you, or choosing myself over you." He held my gaze with a heartfelt look in his own eyes.
"I will always love you," I assured him, "but I just don't like you very much at the moment. I just need time to get over that. You don't have to organize roadside picnics or make jokes about everything. I appreciate your efforts, but at the same time it makes me feel like you are rushing me; like you're trying to push me up a wall that, ultimately, I don't currently have the strength to climb."
He nodded. "Okay." Then smiled sadly. "Thank you." He reached for the roadmap dotted with red and blue markers and held it up with a more sheepish smile. "So maybe, for now, we should just forget about all this sightseeing stuff and just head down the highway?"
Still stubbornly keeping my emotions and expression in check, I replied mildly: "I think that would be best."
Duo nodded again, in agreement. "Okay."
We finished our emotionally laden breakfast and got back on the road. After our detour, Duo took the car back to the main highway that crossed the country from west to east. We met up with the highway where it crossed route 95, just past Fallon. During the stretch of road that we crossed during the day, stopping only for a brief lunch and a drive-thru, deep-fried, dinner I noticed many road signs all proclaiming the same.
THE LONELIEST ROAD IN AMERICA.
At one point, one of the few other cars on the highway sped by us with a tongue-in-cheek bumper sticker that read:
I SURVIVED THE LONELIEST ROAD IN AMERICA.
At the end of the day, under cover of night, we crossed state lines into Utah, officially leaving the barren strip of tarmac known as "the loneliest road in America" behind us, but for us, the "loneliest road" would continue and stretch all the way to Washington as we traveled in absolute silence. I was unsure if, at the end of our journey, we too could claim to have survived it.
I recognize this chapter was more flashback than present-day story and that that might bother some readers, but there just had to be a pause in the present-day storyline to stop it from being rushed. Future chapters will be more balanced :)
I would love it if you would share your thoughts with me :)