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" A Very Dark Corner "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, violence, angst…major angst (probably a bit more than my usual. Okay, a LOT more than my usual), sex… yaoi sex, that is. Pairings: 1x2 Summary: Duo Maxwell is anaspiring writer who
suddenly finds his lonely and dull life full of intrigue,romance,
and horror. " A Very Dark Corner " Chapter Four He pulled on the blue nitril gloves, enjoying the feel of the thin, protective plastic sliding over his hands and the snap of their release against his hands. As he approached the body he tried to keep his face impassive. It wouldn't do for his new co-workers to see his excitement. Likely they were waiting to see if he could keep down his lunch – he had heard over the radio that the corpse was in bad shape – and they would be surprised enough as it was. The air was crisp, a little damp, and there was a low, cool breeze that stung the side of his face in a pleasantly annoying way. Bad shape was not the way he would have described the state of the body. But then, he wasn't like the other cops. He wasn't revolted by the sight of the victim's skin stretched back over itself, revealing the deep, empty chest cavity and framing it like delicate butterfly wings. The other cops couldn't appreciate the detail and effort it must have taken to lay her out like this, to get the blood spatter JUST so. One week on the job and already he was on the verge of losing it. He shook his head and forcefully reminded himself that he was here to solve a murder. Not to admire the work of a fellow artist.
It was a snippet, barely the bones behind a single scene, but it was something. Duo felt like shouting in triumph as he leaned back and examined the few paragraphs that had flown from his fingers. Finally. He had a main character, he had the loose details of a plot. Last night he had stayed up until nearly four, madly scribbling on four different legal pads as he tried to organize his thoughts. When he had started writing his blog, it had been easy enough to just post a gruesome scene when it came to him, but this book wasn't a collection of gruesome deaths. It needed a narrative, and it needed characters aside from a faceless murderer and countless victims. It needed a hero. And he finally had one. Duo took a large gulp of coffee and started to type again, feeling adrenaline and anticipation strum through him as he continued to write the scene, to introduce his character, and to think of the world he would inhabit. He was ten pages in when he noticed the time and swore. He was going to be late, again. With a sigh, he saved his work and shut down his computer before finishing off his coffee and pulling on a sweater. The weather had finally started to change, and he had pulled on a pair of jeans that morning after getting out of bed, so he stepped into his loafers, ran a hand through his hair, and decided he was presentable enough for Wufei. "Late, again," Wufei said when he opened the door to his office fifteen minutes later. "I was writing," Duo said and took his normal chair. "For my book. I finally know what I want to do and the words were just flowing – you're lucky I didn't just stay there and keep writing." Wufei arched an eyebrow as he sat down opposite Duo. "Yes, well, thank you for deciding to keep your appointment." Duo rolled his eyes. "It was a joke. But – come on! This is big! I'm finally able to concentrate on this." "I agree, and I am very happy. Why do you think you were able to finally have a break through?" Duo couldn't help but grin as he thought back to last night. "I was talking to Heero last night on the phone. We got into this huge argument about morality – about if the world were black and white or just shades of grey. It was… fun." Duo hadn't argued that intensely with anyone since Solo had died – or his first sessions with Wufei, but those had been far from pleasant – and he had felt so alive after finally hanging up the phone at one A.M. "It wasn't even the conversation – it was just thinking, arguing… God, it felt good." "So things are progressing well with Heero." "If by well you mean that –" "Duo." He rolled his eyes again. "Yes. Very well." "How many dates have you been on, now?" He mentally counted. "Seven?" "And?" "And… date number eight is scheduled for tonight?" He honestly didn't know what Wufei was fishing for. "Have you found yourself thinking about Solo? Or comparing the two?" "It's weird, but no. They're really different, and the relationship – I don't know, the dynamics are different. We – okay, there was this one thing. He came over on Saturday and we watched Dr. Strangelove, because the poor guy had never seen it, and I got up to get a drink and – I don't know. I guess I've never really sat on a couch and watched a movie with someone who wasn't Solo. But I used to – both of us used to – whenever we'd get up we'd kind of, just lean over, kiss the other one, and then ask if they wanted anything. It was just something we did. And Saturday I did it, it just… happened." "It upset you." "Yeah. One minute I'm smiling at the sound of Heero laughing and wanting a glass of water and the next –" he swallowed hard. Every once in a while something would happen that would remind him so keenly of Solo that it would literally stop his heartbeat for a moment, freezing him in place until he was able to remember that Solo was dead and that he was alone. Saturday, leaning over to kiss Heero even as he stood up, had been one of those moments. The moment his lips touched Heero's it had felt so incredibly wrong and alien that Duo had pulled away and had to lock himself in the bathroom for ten minutes to calm down enough to be able to even look at Heero again. "Talk to me," Wufei softly prompted him. "I almost had a fucking panic attack. God, it felt – it was like my body remembered exactly how it felt to do that, to lean over and kiss Solo and Heero is not Solo." "No, he isn't." "And that's – that's fine. We've been dating for what, two and a half weeks now? And I like him. I like all the ways that he isn't Solo. Which is wrong, isn't it?" "Why?" "I loved Solo, and now I'm going after someone who isn't anything like him. It's like I'm trying to erase him, isn't it?" "Heero is nothing like Solo?" "They don't look the same – Heero doesn't drink. Heero hates Heinlein and is on the fence about McDivett. Heero thinks Top Gun is amazing, he hates Platoon. He –" "Duo. These are things. These are small and yes, they matter. But in the big ways – does he laugh at your jokes? Is he kind? You've told me countless times that Solo was the most generous person you had ever met, that he would risk anything just to help someone else, even a stranger. To me, that sounds like your Heero. Someone would have to be kind and generous to go out with you after you'd drunkenly shouted at them. I'm not saying that he should be a replica of Solo. But in the big ways, they are alike. You aren't turning your back on the memory of Solo just because you're dating a man with different taste in movies and books." Duo sighed. He could see the truth in Wufei's words, but there was no denying the fact that the more time he spent with Heero, the less time he spent thinking about Solo. He knew, on some level, that that was good. But a huge part of him still saw it as a betrayal. "What happened?" Wufei asked. "Huh?" "After your almost panic attack? What happened?" "I came out of the bathroom – I kind of ran away and hid in there until I could get myself back together – and Heero… kind of jumped me." Wufei arched an eyebrow. "We fooled around for a while, which went a long way to making me not think about Solo for a while." "So you've had sex." "No." "Then what – define 'fooling around'," Wufei said with a frown. Duo arched an eyebrow at Wufei, mirroring the gesture that the therapist so often used on him. "I thought you were a psychotherapist, not a sex therapist." Wufei rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking for details. And if you need a reference to someone who can discuss your performance then I would be happy to give you one. But, as we've already discussed, sex seems to be something of an issue for you, and I feel that discussing it – in a broad, open context – is necessary to progress in your treatment." "Making out. Mutual masturbation." Things had progressed very quickly when Duo walked out of the bathroom to find Heero waiting for him, arms crossed, a frown wrinkling his brow. Without saying a word, however, Heero had closed the difference between them and kissed him, not even giving Duo a chance to speak or react. In a matter of minutes they were on Duo's bed, still dressed, reaching into each other's jeans and stroking each other's erections. Duo hadn't planned on taking things even that far with Heero yet, despite the fact that the younger man demonstrated his own desire to progress their physical relationship. But afterwards, as they lay on his bed and caught their breath, Duo couldn't find it in himself to regret it. Yes, it had been hurried, and been entirely without foreplay, but it had still felt incredible. He hadn't had someone else touch him in nearly a year, and there was no denying that Heero's hand working his erection had brought Duo to the most intense orgasm he had had since Solo's death. "Why haven't you had sex yet?" "Um…" "Duo, I won't pretend to be an expert on homosexual relationships, but my general understanding is that, without the risk of pregnancy that heterosexual relationships face, homosexual, physical relationships progress at a significantly faster pace. Sex isn't seen as the same sort of commitment that heterosexual relationships require it to be. Seven dates is a very long time to have gone without you having sex." Duo snorted. He was reminded of having this same argument with Solo, when they had first started dating. Solo didn't understand why Duo hadn't wanted to jump into bed with him right away, and Duo knew that while Solo had shrugged his shoulders and been willing to wait for Duo to be ready, he had never really understood WHY he hadn't been willing to immediately begin a physical relationship. "I wouldn't push this, Duo, but I honestly feel that your view of sex is something we should discuss." "That and you like to torture me," Duo muttered. "Well, yes, there is that too." Wufei sat in silence, waiting for Duo to speak. It was a tactic the therapist had developed early on, after he realized that by engaging Duo in argument's only allowed him to avoid a topic and move onto something safer. But silence, more than anything else, usually drove Duo to speaking. Eventually, Duo sighed and gave in. "It took two months before Hunter and I had… only ten days with Solo, because he pretty much gave me an ultimatum. So, yeah, I guess I'm not like every other gay man on the planet. I don't feel comfortable just jumping into bed with a guy. It's great that I don't have to worry about getting another guy pregnant, sure. But… look, when you have sex, typically– not always I know – you're naked. Completely exposed. Totally vulnerable. That's scary shit, okay? And it just – it's not like I ever felt intimidated by Hunter or Solo, I just… needed to trust them. And maybe, I don't know, maybe it's because I was raised by a failed nun and a priest – but I think sex is more than just two bodies rubbing together in a mutually satisfactory way. Humans have a profound capacity to experience pleasure and I don't think it's something we should just – we aren't Bonobos, right? Sex means something. It's more than just ejaculation – it's… the chance to, I don't know, rise above this mortal coil and experience the divine, ok?" It was hard for Duo to look at Wufei, to wait for his judgment, but he forced himself to hold his gaze. "Did you ever tell Hunter, or Solo, that that was how you felt about sex?" "No, are you crazy? I know how pathetic that sounded." "Pathetic isn't the way I would describe it." "Because you're paid to help me recover, not to send me off the deep end." "Duo, I'm serious. What you described isn't pathetic. Not to mention – it's how you genuinely feel. You have no cause to be ashamed for how you feel and certainly not when your feelings are that profound." "I… thanks? I guess?" "Do you trust Heero? Are you comfortable being that vulnerable with him?" "I – yeah. I mean, I've already yelled at him, told him about everyone I love dying, so he knows I'm pretty damaged and he's never… he's seriously never really judged me for it, you know?" "And your fooling around on Saturday? Your… mutual masturbation – did it feel like more than physical release?" Duo was amused that even Wufei's ears went red when he said mutual masturbation, but he decided not to tease him about it. "It was physical release, though. It felt incredible, mind you, but that really was – no, that's not true. It was more than that. It was more than that night. God, the look on Heero's face…" Duo had thought that Heero looked enraptured when he tried chocolate or after kissing him, but the look on his face after he came in Duo's hand had been beyond that. "So he might understand you, then," Wufei interrupted his thoughts. "Maybe." Although, the more Duo thought about it, the more Wufei seemed right. Heero didn't strike Duo as vapid or flippant, and based on their discussions Heero seemed to view the world from a very unique perspective. On the other hand, he was twenty one and had been pushing for sex since their second date. "Have you told Hilde? About your being involved with someone?" "Ah… no." "Why not?" "Honestly? Because I'm dating a twenty-one year old college student and she just tried to set me up with her friend, who, like her, is an assistant DA." "You don't think she will approve." "No. I mean, she'll love making cabana boy jokes about him for as long as he lasts, but no. I don't think she will approve." "She won't approve of the fact that you are moving on? Trying to make a new life for yourself? That you've found someone who makes you laugh and, beyond all logical explanation, actually likes you?" "Seriously, don't keep feeding my ego too much – it's not healthy." "Duo." He sighed. "Yeah, she'd like to know that I'm happy. Which I am. And I never thought I'd be happy again so… okay. I'll tell her. And I'll talk to Heero about sex – but you realize that I might freak him out and then it's back to me being alone and cranky when we have these meetings." "Duo, you deserve to be with someone who not only accepts that you are, as you say, damaged, but understands that you value the profound capacity humans have for experiencing pleasure. It isn't pathetic. I very much wish that you had told me this sooner. I think that I understand you much better now, knowing that you feel that way." Duo rolled his eyes. "Do not get mushy on me, Doc." Wufei's lips twisted up into a smirk. "Never," he promised. "Now, I fear our time is at an end. I'm not going to tell you to call Hilde and tell her that you are seeing someone… but I do strongly suggest it." "Then I will take it under strong consideration," Duo said and stood up. "Next week, then? Maybe on time?" "I can't make any promises. After all, maybe I'll still be in bed, screwing Heero's brains out or something." Wufei once again flushed, and Duo shook his head at how easily embarrassed Wufei could be. "Out," Wufei said, but the command was softened by the smirk he still wore. "I'm going, I'm going."
He spent the early afternoon cleaning his apartment, even though, since he had started dating Heero, he kept it significantly neater and free of the usual clutter that had seemed to accumulate almost without effort after Solo's death. Heero was coming over that evening for pizza and, at his suggestion, a showing of Blade Runner. Duo had been amused at Heero's insistence that Deckard was human – Duo, himself, had always believed he was a replicant – and so they had scheduled their date tonight to settle the argument. By three, Duo had cleaned his apartment and written another seven pages, but finally felt compelled to call Hilde. Wufei was right. She would want to know that he was happy, and he could use the conversation to distract himself from fixating on HOW he would talk to Heero about his opinion on sex tonight. She answered on the third ring, her voice breathless. "Oh thank God you called me!" "Um… you're welcome?" Duo was amused and also mildly concerned about how frantic she sounded. "No, Duo, are you okay?" "Yeah. I'm fine. Better than fine, really. I should have called earlier, but –" "Good. This is hard for me to say. I mean, I could lose my job, but this is your life we're talking about – and I couldn't sleep at all last night, after I found out, and –" "Hilde, calm down. What are you talking about?" He had never heard her this hysterical. Hilde was normally so put together – even with her toughest cases she remained calm to the point of being unnerving. Of the two of them, she was the less outwardly emotional. "I'm just going to come out and say it." "That would be nice." "There's a serial killer using your blog as inspiration for his murders." "No there's not." Once upon a time, Hilde and Duo had played elaborate practical jokes on each other. Surely this was yet another. Maybe she had decided that he needed the levity? "Yes, Duo, there is." "What – why hasn't it been in the papers?" "The murders have, but they've been able to keep the details out." "When you say murders, how –" "Nineteen." "Jesus fucking Christ!" "Duo –" "You're telling me that some crazy fuck has been doing what I write? Nineteen times?" "That they've found. Shit. I didn't mean that –" "Yeah, you did. Holy shit." Duo found himself feeling strangely numb. His brain had no problem understanding the words that Hilde said, but he found it impossible to connect that with reality. Nineteen people were dead because of – "Duo, this is not your fault." He didn't know if he had spoken out loud, or if Hilde simply knew him that well. "What – do you know which – no, I don't… fucking hell, Hilde." Over the past months he had written literally hundreds of scenarios featuring gruesome murders. "Why?" "I… don't know. I don't think we'll know until we find him. Or her." "No, I mean, why did you – why couldn't you sleep last night?" "Because my friend in the Staties told me about it, last night. He was just talking about his case, and when he described a few of the murders it sounded like your blog, so I asked him if he had read it – we were up for hours looking it over. There are at least nineteen murders over the last two months that perfectly match your blogs. Except – damn it. I really can't tell you this much." "Why tell me at all?" "Because I'm terrified!" "That I'm the serial killer?" "No! That the serial killer is fixated on you!" "Well I think that's obvious." "No, well, yes. But that's not what I mean." She sighed, and he could picture her running a frustrated hand through her hair, her go-to angry gesture. "I remember reading about this case a few years ago, where a serial killer claimed that everyone he killed was a present for this woman who he had basically been stalking for two years. It seemed so weird to me, but I researched it, and it's a pretty common thing – serial killers feel inspired by someone and they try to get their attention." "So someone is… killing people as a fucking gift to me?" "Maybe. Or maybe not. I don't know. I'm just a lawyer. I'm not – I'm your friend, and I tend to over-analyze, so I'm scared as hell for you. I hate that your name is on your blog, so that anyone can track you down – and you have a photo! – and –" "-and I'm inspiring someone to murder people. That's probably the part I would hate the most, you know." "Duo –" "What can I do?" "What?" "How can I – what can I do to help? What should I do?" "Don't talk to strangers. Don't –" "No, Hilde, with the fucking murders. Should I go to talk to the cops or something?" "No. Don't. They'll come talk to you soon enough." "But what if someone else dies before they do?" "Duo, please. If anyone knows I've told you this much I could lose my job and we could both be brought up on charges of obstruction of justice." "What? That's crazy!" "Duo, they don't know how far back this pattern goes, but last night we were able to confirm at least nineteen people who matched your descriptions. And that's going back about two months. Have you noticed anything – anyone – in that time? Have you met any new people that might be a little off? Or has anyone started to show an interest in you that –" "You think I know who did this?" "I don't know. I just want you to be safe." "Hilde, the only new people I've met are a few new regulars at the soup kitchen, the two new baggers at WholeFoods, the Solo clone you tried to set me up with, and –" he caught himself. "And who? Someone suspicious?" "No. No one suspicious. I called you today because I've been dating someone for the last two and a half weeks and I felt guilty for not telling you about him." "How long have you known him? Did you approach him or did he –" "Hilde! He is not a serial killer!" "Duo, you don't know that!" "Hilde, are you seriously suggesting that the guy I'm dating is only interested in me because he's a serial killer who wants to get closer to his… source of inspiration?" She was silent for a moment, then sighed. "No. Obviously any guy who wanted to date you has an infinite number of reasons to find you attractive. But the timing –" "Two and a half weeks. You said this goes back at least two months, maybe longer. He'd be a pretty shitty stalker, or at least a cowardly one, if he waited this long." "Unless something changed, or inspired him to approach you?" "Hilde! You sound like a crazy person!" "Just, I'm sorry. But how did you meet?" "At –fuck." "What?" "No, it's just – you're going to think it makes him into a serial killer." "Out with it." "I met him at the bar, the night I went on that date with Zechs. He's the bartender I yelled at. I told you about him." "You're dating a man who you yelled at. Who walked you home – when you were a complete stranger. Oh Christ, have you been alone with him? He knows where you live! Duo –" "Hilde, I swear to God you are overreacting. This guy is really nice." "What's his name? I can check the system, see if he's –" "No. Hilde you are not running a background check on my boyfriend." "Please." "No." "But he might be dangerous!" "Hilde, I promise you, he is not dangerous. He's a good guy, and he makes me happy. Something I haven't been since Solo died. And right now –fucking hell. You tell me that I'm the inspiration for some psycho who's killed almost an entire active roster's worth of people!" "You're putting this is baseball terms. That's good. You're trying to compartmentalize. I –" "Hilde, I just came from my therapist. Do not try to handle me with this. People are dying, and it's because of me. And now you're saying that maybe my boyfriend– the first guy I've kissed in a fucking year– might be the bastard killing them?" "Duo, this is not your fault. People have claimed that- I don't know –that Shirley Temple inspired them to kill. It doesn't mean that Shirley Temple is responsible." "I write gory snuff scenes. I don't tap dance in a dress. If some lunatic wants to say that Shirley Temple inspired them – that makes them a lunatic. If someone reads my shit and – fuck. I'm going to take it down. Close the site." "No! Duo, please. Forget about my jobs and either of us going to jail, the cops need to be able to access your site and cross reference it with all of the cold cases over the last six months." "The last – you really think?" "No, I don't know." Her voice turned soft. "Duo, please – look, I'm coming over tonight. We can talk more and –" "Not tonight. I've got a date." Her silence was so deafening that Duo wanted to yell at her. "I am not cancelling this date because he might be a serial killer. I seriously think there's more chance of me being responsible that him." "Tomorrow, then?" He knew that he should let her come over, but if she was this hysterical on the phone, he was convinced that she would be impossible to deal with in person. "Lunch?" He suggested. "I work nights at the soup kitchen anyway." "Okay. Lunch. I'll meet you at your apartment. Duo –I'm not saying your boyfriend is a serial killer, but… if he does anything strange, anything suspicious – will you – will you please be smart and get the hell away from him and call me?" "Oh my God. Hilde!" "Duo!" "Fine! If he tries to murder me I will call you." He hung up, furious with her attitude, but even more furious with himself. He spent the next twenty minutes pacing his living room, feeling a manic surge of energy that had to be his 'flight' response to the news that HE was responsible for the deaths of almost twenty people. Eventually he worked off enough of the energy to sit down, and he opened his laptop and navigated to his blog. He started with his latest entry, from yesterday morning, and he started to work his way back, reading and rereading entries, trying to understand why. -0- Pounding on his front door finally drew him away from the monitor. He looked at the clock, shocked to see that three hours had passed. He had only made it back in time six weeks, but even just that amount of time was filled with so much violence that he couldn't imagine how someone hadn't been using his work as inspiration before this. In all honesty – it was sick, twisted. Every word designed to make the act of murder seem sensual and – "Duo?" Heero's voice, muffled by the door, shook him from his thoughts. He opened the door, letting in the younger man. "Sorry. I was distracted." Heero frowned at him. "Is everything okay?" "Yeah, fine. Here, let me get that." Duo took the box of pizza from Heero's hands. "You don't look okay." Heero closed the door behind him and set a DVD case on Duo's coffee table before following him into the kitchen. "No, it's –" "You're having second thoughts about Blade Runner? Because, if you want to admit that I'm right, we can just skip the movie." Duo shook his head. He really didn't know HOW to even begin to tell Heero about his conversation with Hilde. He looked at the younger man, taking in the concerned way he was looking back at him. He had absolutely no doubt that Heero wasn't the serial killer. Maybe it was ridiculous for him to be so blind, so trusting, but that was how he felt. After just two and a half weeks he sincerely trusted Heero. Which reminded him of his session with Wufei. "Something happened, today – well, fuck, I guess it's been happening for months now, but I just found out about it today. It's pretty huge and pretty fucked up, but – damn it this makes me a terrible person. I really just want to spend tonight with you. I don't want to talk about it. Hell, I don't want to think about it, except I can't help but think about it – which sucks. Because you're legitimately the best thing that's happened to me in a year, and being with you is amazing – and these last two weeks have been… I really didn't think I'd ever have the chance to feel like this about anyone again. So of course the universe has to go and –" he shook his head. "No, it's not the universe's fault. It's my fault. But –" "Duo, I have no idea what you're talking about." "Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head. "Yeah." "If you just don't want to admit that you're wrong, I understand. The first time I watched it, I thought he was a replicant too." That forced a laugh out of Duo. "You're amazing, Heero Yuy," he said. Heero smirked at him. "I know." "I'm not admitting that I'm wrong – just so we're clear – but can we not watch Blade Runner tonight?" For perhaps the first time in his life, the idea of watching something gory and violent filled him with nausea. "Okay." Heero leaned back against the counter. "Hungry?" Duo shook his head. "No. God, I'm lousy company. You know what, you can leave, if you want, I –" "Do you want me to go?" "No." "Then I'd rather stay. You don't have to tell me what's bothering you. Unless it's me, in which case I'd like to know." "It's not you. Trust me." "Because I'm the best thing that's happened to you in a year?" Heero said. "I thought you had no idea what I was talking about." Heero shrugged one shoulder. "That part I managed to follow okay." Heero stood back up and walked over to Duo, stopping just in front of him. "Hey," Heero said, and it made Duo smile. "Hey yourself," he responded before leaning down and kissing Heero. The other man let him keep it light, but even just that, the press of their lips together, was enough to fill Duo with a sense of equilibrium that he hadn't felt since calling Hilde. When Heero pulled back Duo studied his face. He loved looking at him, studying his features, trying to read the expression in his eyes. It seemed that every time Duo looked at him, he noticed something else about Heero's face that made it all the more appealing. "What happened here?" He reached out and lightly ran his right index finger over Heero's left eyebrow, where a thin scar started and angled upwards, almost an inch long. It was very faint, but even so, Duo was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. "Nothing." Heero stepped back, and Duo could practically hear him slamming down mental defenses. "Okay." Duo felt it would be hypocritical of him to pry, considering that HE was unwilling to talk about the fact that nineteen people were dead because someone liked his writing enough to emulate it. Heero fingered the scar, a scowl on his face. "My father threw an ashtray at my head, when I was six, because I put too much ice in his bourbon." His voice was completely devoid of emotion, as if he was reciting the weather. "It was glass – it actually dented my skull, just a little. I had to get eleven stitches." "Heero –" he didn't know what he wanted to say, after that, but Duo felt compelled to say something. "No, you should know. I should tell you." He drew in a deep breath. "You told me, about Solo, about your family." It was true. Last week, when Heero had stopped by Thursday afternoon, in a seemingly new tradition that had inspired Duo to go out and get more desserts for him to sample, they had spent hours talking about literature, before some comment of Heero's reminded Duo of Solo, and Heero had asked him to talk to him, to tell him about them. It had been the first time, outside of Wufei and his therapy sessions, that Duo had told anyone about his family, the group home, and Solo's deaths. Hilde knew about them – of course – and had been there with him when he went to the morgue to identify Solo's body. But telling Heero, who seemed so removed and distant from the events, had been a surreal experience for Duo. "Can we sit?" Heero asked, however, instead of continuing. "Yeah. Of course." Duo led the way to the living room and sat on one end of the couch, leaving Heero plenty of room. Gingerly, he sat down on the opposite end. "I told you that he was a drunk – the first night we met." "Yes." "My Mom died when I was young. She had an aneurysm – this totally freak thing – and she just died. After that, my Dad just drank. All of the time. He started in the morning, before work, and then all through the day, and even more, at night. I think he tried to dull the pain, tried to not feel anything." "He was violent. At night. It got worse, the older I got – my own fault, really. Because the older I got, the more I realized how WRONG it was, and the more I would talk back." "It was not your fault," Duo growled. Heero shook his head. "No – not my fault in that I could have prevented it, but I… baited him, sometimes. I'd argue with him. I'd put too much ice in his bourbon, even when I was old enough to understand WHY he didn't want so much in there." Heero shook his head, a distant expression on his face. "I was sixteen when I came out to him. It was in the middle of a fight – I don't even remember how it started – but one minute he was shouting at me, and the next I was telling him that I liked men and then he just… lost it. I remember waking up in the hospital, the next day. I had a concussion, broken ribs, black eye – and my Dad just sat there and told the nurse, the doctor – the fucking cops – that I had been jumped by some guys who wanted to beat up a fag, to show me what happened to queers. And he looked right at me, when he told the cops. Right at me. After that, we didn't speak. We still haven't spoken. I haven't been home for Christmas or Thanksgiving since I came here." Duo was suddenly very glad that he hadn't told Heero about the serial killer, or tried to talk to him about sex. This was not a kid who needed to be thinking about either of those things. He mentally revised his opinion of Heero as 'bright and shiny' to 'impossible to defeat.' Because, as heartbreaking as his life was, Heero was incredibly resilient, and so well-adjusted despite the fact that he had perhaps the worst father imaginable. And screw Hilde – for making him think, for even a heartbeat, that there was any chance that Heero was a serial killer. And screw Duo – for ever giving Heero a reason to compare Duo to his father. "Would it… offend you if I said that your father is scum and that you're an amazing person, despite him?" "Is it sick that I want to defend him?" Heero responded, lips twisted into a sneer of disgust. "No." "I hate him, I really do. I hate that even now, six years after the last time he hit me, I still flinch, when someone reaches out towards me with the back of their hand." Duo had noticed that, last week, when they had been sitting on the couch and he had reached over to grab the blanket behind Heero's head. "But he's my father. He's my family. And part of me – if HE can't love me then –" "No. Do not finish that thought. That is bullshit and no. Just no. I'm sorry, again, to insult him, but your father is a fraction of a man. Him not loving you, not relishing every moment he got to spend with you – is nothing to do with you. You are incredible. You're fucking perfect – aside from your insanely wrong theory about Deckard and your obsession with numbers. I'm serious. If he can't love you then he's an idiot, and blind, and not worth your time." Heero swallowed hard, and he suddenly looked very young. Duo felt very old, in that moment, staring at him, seeing just how much pain he felt and feeling helpless to fix it. "Come on." Duo stood up. "What –" "No questions. Up." Heero reluctantly stood, but followed Duo through the apartment and back to his bedroom. "If it's okay with you, I kind of think you could do with a hug, maybe some cuddling… and the couch is a little narrow." Heero's shoulders drooped in relief and he nodded. Duo watched as Heero toed off his shoes and then he pulled the other man against him and guided them back onto the bed. He rolled over onto his back and let Heero settle beside him, the younger man leaning his head on Duo's chest, before he put one arm around him and started to lightly run his fingers through his hair. "But seriously," Duo said after nearly half an hour of silence, "we need to address the fact that there is no possible way that Deckard is human." "You have no idea what you're talking about," Heero grumbled, his words muffled by Duo's shirt. "Must be a generational thing. You punk kids these days, you think everyone has to be human –" "Right, because sentimental old guys like you think robots are everywhere." Duo could feel Heero smiling against him, and he allowed himself to smile. He had absolutely no idea to fix Heero – to show him that he was amazing, that he really was, as far as Duo could tell, damn near perfect. He had no idea how to fix the fact that he had inspired a serial killer to murder nineteen people. But at least, if nothing else, he could make Heero smile. It was such a small thing, but right now, he would take it.
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