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"What May Come"Written By: Clara Barton Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The following
is an intellectual exercise with no intention of profit. That said,
these characterizations, words, and situations are mine. Please ask
before reprinting. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex Pairings: 2x3x2 Summary: Almost two years after the war, Trowa Barton decides to move on and enrolls at Amaris University, located on the former Lunar Base. He quickly learns that the past isn't so easy to run away from, especially not when the past confronts him in the form of Duo Maxwell. A/N: This has been in my head for years. I'm
sorry it isn't an update to any of my WIPs but… it's a challenge
to get back in the heads of characters who I haven't lived with in
a while. For now, all I can do is try to write - but rest assured
that I am looking over my old work and making notes and preparing
to update. Eventually. I'm sorry I can't promise more. "What May Come " Chapter Three Trowa wasn't sure why it was called Victory Day. It certainly didn't feel like a damn victory. Last year, the circus had thankfully been in transit between performance locations. Most of the performers had gathered to watch the news feeds of the various celebrations across the Earthsphere but Trowa had been able to hide himself away with the circus animals, content to clean and fed them so that he could avoid the hypocritical speeches. This year, he wasn't so lucky. Classes had been cancelled for the day, which meant Trowa had even less to occupy himself with. It also meant that the fifty thousand students at Amaris had nothing to do with themselves other than celebrate. Well, at least forty thousand nine hundred and ninety eight of them. Trowa was able to spend the morning working on a few papers for his classes, but by the middle of the afternoon enough students were awake and already drunk enough to be making a racket in the halls of his dorm. He knew there were plans for more celebrations later that night in most of the common areas, and for perhaps the first time in his life Trowa had the urge to drink himself into a stupor. By sixteen hundred he was unable to concentrate on his work and finally gave up. He grabbed the care package Catharine had sent him last week and left his dorm room. It felt like he had to weave his way through all fifty thousand students as he walked through the hall outside of his room and past the five common areas that separated his dorm from Duo's. By the time he arrived at the room of the former Gundam pilot Trowa was feeling more than a little irritable - he had been jostled, pulled into hugs and even kissed twice. Trowa didn't enjoy physical interactions with anyone during the best of times - but being mauled by strangers on this of all days was almost too much of an insult for him to handle. He hesitated outside of Duo's door. He could only guess at how foul of a mood Duo was in, considering how Trowa felt, but he also knew that if anyone would be tolerable company to have while enduring the rest of Victory Day, it would be Duo. So he eventually knocked. Three times. "For fuck's sake! I already said I don't give a damn what day it is I don't -" Duo opened the door mid tirade and stopped as soon as he saw Trowa standing in front of him. "Hi." Duo said, completely deflated. Trowa fought back a smirk. "Expecting someone else?" Duo rolled his eyes. "I haven't been expecting anyone this whole damn day but it doesn't stop these morons from banging on my door and inviting me to celebrate with them." Duo sounded equally irritated and exhausted. He eyed the box in Trowa's hands suspiciously. "What is that?" Trowa opened the box and angled it so Duo could see inside. Catharine had taken to sending him care packages once a month and while it amused Trowa that she so clearly felt the need to mother him, he also appreciated it. This one was better than the other three she had sent - containing not only cookies and rum cake but dried fruit and an entire bottle of the moonshine that August, the head lion tamer, brewed. "That's some nice loot," Duo observed. "Mind sharing it with me?" Trowa asked. Duo hesitated. "I don't really have anything to give you," Duo said when Trowa arched an eyebrow at him. Trowa could understand Duo's reservation. Growing up the way they had, it had been important to never be in someone else's debt - if someone gave you something you always gave them something in return. It was something Quatre would never understand - and it was the reason why Trowa now felt completely indebted to the former Sandrock pilot. Trowa would never be able to repay the kindness Quatre had shown him over the years. "Tell me why you cut your hair and we'll call it even," Trowa suggested. Duo stared at him for a long moment, clearly debating whether or not it was worth it, and now Trowa was more curious than he had been before. Eventually, though, Duo stood aside and ushered Trowa into his room. It was the first time Trowa had visited Duo's room and he took a moment to look around. Unsurprisingly it was spotless - Duo had lived in bunkrooms onboard ships for most of his teens and had no doubt learned early on to keep his personal possessions, if he had any, tucked away. The walls were bare, uniform white. A bookshelf stood against one wall, packed full with textbooks and what looked like technical manuals for ships. The bed was made, the linens in the same kind of order that was expected on military bases, and Trowa couldn't help but laugh. "What?" Duo asked him suspiciously. "Nothing. This just looks exactly like my room." Duo shrugged but allowed himself a small answering smile. "I guess they can take away our Gundams, but never the training to keep our quarters clean." Trowa nodded in agreement. He looked around for somewhere to sit, but Duo gestured him onto the bed. "As you know, the chair feels like sitting on a fucking rock," Duo muttered and joined him on the bed, sitting just out of arm's reach. Trowa set the box between them and spread out the contents. He split the cake in half and offered part of it to Duo. They ate in silence for several minutes before Duo finally sighed. "Happy fucking Victory Day, I guess," he said. "Happy fucking Victory Day to you too," Trowa returned and Duo chuckled. It was the nearest expression to genuine mirth Trowa had heard from him. They put a sizeable dent in the moonshine before Trowa reminded Duo of their trade. "So, why did you cut your hair?" Duo tossed back another sip of the moonshine, wincing and coughing at the sharp, bitter bite of the clear liquor. "Apparently I was easy to recognize." It was all he needed to say. Trowa's mind was instantly flooded with all of the possibilities of what recognition had done to Duo. There was the slightest chance that it had been good - maybe Duo had been recognized and thanked by so many thousands of people for saving their lives that he had grown tired of their gratitude and cut off his hair. But knowing their luck thus far in life, Trowa doubted that was the reason. "What happened?" Duo shrugged one shoulder. "I was hanging out with a few spacers at a bar one night and... you know how it goes. Some ex-OZzies walked in, saw the braid and things got really rough, really quick." Trowa looked him over. There were no scars on Duo's face, but considering that he always wore long sleeves and long pants it was impossible to know what his clothing hid. "I assume you showed them how to get some manners," Trowa said. Duo's lips twisted into a tight, bitter line. "No. As it turns out, one kid who doesn't feel like killing people any more is no match for five guys with nothing left to lose." "I still don't - one lost fight and you cut your hair?" "Trowa. I didn't cut it. They did. They wanted a fucking trophy to take home with them after they - after they were done with me." Trowa wished he knew Duo better, or that he was better at talking to people. It was clear that Duo really needed something but Trowa had no idea what it was or how to give it to him. He also felt a deep coil of cold, dark rage build inside of him. He remembered when Duo had been imprisoned on the Lunar Base and he had overheard some of the guards talking, suggesting interrogation techniques and punishments for the long haired colonist. At the time Trowa had done what he could to mitigate things - changing guard schedules so that Duo was never under the supervision of the worst guards unless Trowa was on base - but he hadn't been able to stop every guard who wished Duo ill will. He had found Duo bruised and bloody in his cell more than once and knowing that Duo had only continued to endure that kind of abuse after the war stirred something in him he had thought long dead. He gave Duo the entire bag of dried fruit. "I've never liked it, but I don't want to hurt Cathy's feelings," he lied. He remembered the handful of times on Earth when he had shared meals with Duo. The colonist was obsessed with fresh fruit and while this dried fruit was nothing compared to what he had eaten on Earth, it was the nearest thing Trowa could offer him. Duo accepted the bag and then sighed happily when he put a dried strawberry in his mouth. "This stuff is good enough that I'm going to pretend you aren't lying to me," Duo said, his eyes closed and a peaceful expression on his face. It took them another two hours to polish off the moonshine. Trowa felt confident they were both going to regret it tomorrow, but tonight, at least, it helped to dull the pain. "You keep in touch with any of them?" Duo asked him, seemingly out of the blue. "No - well, Quatre, but that's more his doing than mine." Duo offered him a slightly goofy, drunken smirk. "Man, talk about a case of puppy love, that guy is probably willing to tattoo your name on his ass, Tro." Trowa glared at Duo but he could feel the effects of the liquor enough by now that he doubted there was much threat in his eyes. "Seriously. Maybe - I guess he could do T and R on the left cheek, O above his crack, and W and A on the right cheek. It would kind of have to do like a frown line thing - but that works for you too. Always frowning." "If you weren't drunk right now I'd beat the shit out of you," Trowa idly threatened. Duo snorted derisively. "If I wasn't drunk right now you'd never have a chance - you beat the shit out of me," Duo shook his head in mock pity. "It's tragic how delusional you've become." Trowa lashed out, grabbing the nearest part of Duo, his right foot. As soon as he made contact with the other man they both froze, smirks fading and bodies tensing. There had been a fair amount of rough housing growing up with the mercenaries, and Trowa had become very adept very quickly at sensing when things started to turn for the ugly. He thought about releasing Duo's foot, but he knew it would be difficult to just ignore this transgression and pretend it hadn't happened. So, instead, he took his chances and tickled the sole of Duo's foot. He watched the other man's blue eyes widen in shock before a helpless giggle escaped his lips. Duo instantly tried jerk his foot free, but now Trowa held on tightly. Duo, the God of Death, had giggled. "Oh no," Trowa said when Duo continued to squirm. He tickled him again, completely merciless and soon Duo was writhing against him, gasping for breath. "For the love of God - mercy!" Duo finally managed to gasp and Trowa released him, thoroughly pleased with himself. It took a few moments for Duo to get control of his breathing, and even though he spent the entire time glaring at Trowa, there was an ease to his posture that indicated he was, for perhaps the first time since Trowa had seen him on the first day of Freshman Composition, relaxed. "I guess I should be thankful Une never sent you to interrogate me," Duo mused eventually. "I'm thankful as well - how embarrassing would it have been for all Gundam pilots everywhere to know that one of our number was brought low by mere tickling." Duo was about to offer a retort, but a sudden burst of noise outside of his room drew both their attention. Trowa checked his watch and saw that it was midnight. "Thank God the day is finally over," Duo said, looking over to see the time. "They'll still be at it for another few hours at least," Trowa pointed out. "Yeah - but things will go back to their normal, deadly monotonous pace soon after," Duo said. He propped himself against the wall and closed his eyes. "I'll take hung over morons over drunk ones anytime," he muttered. "You might not be saying that in a few hours when you are a hung over moron," Trowa said. "Probably not," Duo agreed with a sleepy grin. "I should go," Trowa decided and started to pack up the remnants of the care package. "You can stay if you want - like you said, they're going to be at it for another few hours. 'Sides, this bunk is pretty wide." Duo shrugged. Trowa arched an eyebrow. He really didn't want to have to walk back to his dorm room when there was still the chance of being accosted. "Is this just a ploy?" "Yeah, so I can steal the cookies you've been keeping for yourself," Duo muttered. "I'm not asking you to stay - but you looked almost homicidal when I let you in a few hours ago. I'm not sure you'd survive the trek back to your room without doing something that's going to get you arrested." Trowa sighed. "At least let me have one of your pillows," he asked, pointing to the two Duo was currently leaning back on. Duo tossed one in his general direction. It took a bit of maneuvering, but Duo was right, the bed was fairly wide - at least compared to the sleeping conditions they had both dealt with in the past - and Duo stretched out close the wall and Trowa lay down beside him. "I'm sorry if I wake up and try to strangle you in the middle of the night," Duo muttered. "Same to you," Trowa responded.
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