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"Targets"Written By: Dùlin
Archive: This arc is archived on this site with permission. Do not reproduce it anywhere without permission. Disclaimer : I don't own them. Life is not fair. Rating : An overall NC-17 for violence and language and some mature subjects Warnings : okay, to serious stuff. Pairings : Pay attention people, it's complicated
! Summary : When Mr Winner's charity programs threaten the interests of some crime lords, a criminal syndicate hires Heero Yuy, the best killer of the galaxy, to take care of the problem by eliminating the man's son, Quatre Raberba Winner. But soon, the killer finds himself trapped by his not-so-innocent target into a strange seduction game, in which he does not know if he's the hunter or the prey. Author's note : This story takes place in the GW universe with space colonies and AC calendar, except that there are no Gundams, no Earth Sphere Alliance and no Oz. The boys are just not Gundam pilots. Oh, and for you to understand better, Relena, Duo and Quatre are all around 18, and the three others are 2 or 3 years older. Dedicated to Laurence-sama, my dear best friend and beta-reader and the Japanese gal around!
"Targets"
Part 26 AC 198, August 22nd, L4 Colony Cluster, Winner Mansion, 1:54 AM Quatre stopped pretending to sleep and opened weary eyes. Something was not right, and he was all too aware of what it was. And as much as he tried to push it aside and ignore it, it was nagging him even more now, in the middle of the night, than it had during the day. He was feeling restrained, confined within his own head. His carefully-built walls were starting to crumble down, taking with them the facade he had tried to hold up. Quatre shot a look at his sleeping lover. Heero had not even stirred, and that in itself was a proof of how exhausted he was. Quatre was sure Heero had not slept since before they had gone to hospital. Each night since then, every time Quatre had woken up shaking, Heero had been there to comfort him and reassure him and make him go back to sleep. Everyday, he had been by his side, a comforting presence and the only thing he could hold on to. Quatre held out a slightly shaking hand and stroke Heero’s cheek lightly. He bent to deposit a very light kiss on his lips, before stepping out of the bed. He padded silently along the deserted and darkened corridors, only wearing his cream pajama bottom, a pale silhouette gliding aimlessly. He did not know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from Heero before his walls would break completely. He knew it would not be pretty, and he had no idea if putting a bit of physical distance between them would help, but it could not hurt to try. Quatre was determined to cause as little pain as possible to Heero, after all he had been through for his sake. He never knew why he suddenly stopped in front of that particular door. Nor what had led him there of all places. He stared blankly at the door for a while, not really knowing what to do. Then, he slowly reached for the doorknob, and opened it, quietly slipping inside. The study looked exactly the same as when Quatre had left it, slamming the door behind himself, only two weeks ago. Two weeks ago. An eternity. Fifteen days that had changed his life forever. Quatre didn’t switch the lights on. He advanced into the room, studying the photographs as if he were seeing them for the first time. He scanned the books on the shelves, raking his hands along the covers. He saw his father’s violin, that he had not touched in years. All of these things spoke to him of a man he had not really known, and had not a chance of knowing right now. All because some people couldn’t stand to see their little power threatened. Deep inside, Quatre knew his father had loved him. Every time he had turned his gaze on his son, there had been a light in them, something special. Some kind of recognition. Of course, his father had been hurt to realize that Quatre was not what he had imagined his heir to be, and that in turn had hurt Quatre. But in the end … in the end his father had understood that Quatre was something different. And he had accepted it. But it was too late. ‘Why did you have to die to see it, Father ? Why did you have to leave me so soon ?’ Turning around, Quatre came face to face with a huge photograph picturing all of his twenty-nine sisters, his father and himself. Mr Winner was holding a ten-year-old Quatre on his knees, and seemed very happy to be surrounded by all of his children. Quatre held out his hand and touched the picture, an awkward feeling building in his chest. Yes, he knew what most people would expect from him. They would want him to be his father’s shadow, ruling things as he had, and probably letting other people decide what was best because he would be considered too young for this. They would want to see him as the heir his father would have wanted, a gentle and obedient boy ready to obey anyone who could make him see their way. And Quatre knew, with absolute certainty that he couldn’t do that. ‘I spent the last six months arguing with you because I was not what you wanted, Father. I spent the last six months trying to make you see who I really was, trying to make you love me for who I was instead of you changing me into what you wanted. And that’s what they want to do to me now. They want me to be the person they want to see. They don’t care if it’s really me or not, as long as I do not disturb their own little secluded world. And I can’t. I just can’t.’ Of course, Quatre knew that not all of his sisters would think that way. Iria would not think that way. But the others … Quatre was lucid enough to realize he didn’t know half of his sisters as well as he knew Duo. And that most of them would not only be surprised, but even maybe angry at him if he proved to be more than what they expected. ‘I tried to be strong, Father. I tried to behave like you would have wanted me to. But I can’t keep on like this. It’s eating me alive. It’s destroying me. It’s not me. I was never that, was I ? I was never the gentle, obedient boy you wanted. I was never compliant, I yelled, I argued with you every chance I had. I challenged you in every way I could think of. And now you’re gone, and I miss you so much it’s like someone took my heart away and crushed it. And everyone is ready to join the stomping to mold me into the person they want.’ The pain was throbbing in his chest now, and he knew for certain that he could not block his feelings anymore. Something inside of him felt trapped and wanted to scream. He truly felt trapped. In his own house, by his own family, his own heritage. Quatre went to sit behind the desk, in the great leather chair. It was too big for him, and he curled his feet beneath himself, looking at the two pictures on the desk. One of them was the same he had on his bedside cabinet, and had almost destroyed after that last fight. The other one was the only picture of his mother Quatre had ever seen in his father’s hands. The frame was golden, very simple. The picture was old, and the colors had faded a bit. But his mother was still looking at him with radiant eyes and a quiet smile. She was sitting in the garden, in front of a bush of white roses. Her pale blue gown made her eyes stand out, and in the same time revealed that they were not exactly blue, but of that strange shade between green and blue. Her very pale blond hair shone under the lights of the colony, golden strands flashing against almost white blond ones. She looked so young and happy. Carefree. A dry sob heaved Quatre’s chest as he picked the picture up from the desk. He had never really missed his mother in the sense that he had never known her. But he could understand how hard it must have been for his father to look at him, and find those eyes, that hair, that white skin again. To find everything he had lost in his son. His only son. ‘Will you forgive me, Father ? Will you forgive me for not being what you hoped for ?’, Quatre thought as he started to cry silently, his pain and sadness finally breaking through his last defenses. “Father, I miss you. I can’t do it without you. I won’t be strong enough …”
***** The wave of pain was enough to wake him up. And the first thing Heero noticed was that Quatre was not in the bed. Nor in the room. But he was feeling him again. The Japanese would have jumped for joy (or done anything that would equate jumping for joy for him) if he had not been so worried. He was relieved to feel Quatre again, but Quatre had gone away, and he had not even heard him get up. He could be anywhere in the Mansion. And he was hurting a lot right now. And yet, what Heero had told Quatre was true. It was better to feel the pain, even such a deep pain that it was heartbreaking, than not feeling his lover at all. Now Heero felt complete again, and moreover he felt compelled to help his other half getting over the sadness. Getting out of the bed, the Japanese young man tried to figure out how he would possibly find Quatre in the gigantic thing the Winners called a house. He had to find him. Quatre was calling him, and it was deafening him. Strolling out of the bedroom, he began to go down corridors, somehow knowing where to go, not hesitating once in the turns he took. He could feel Quatre’s presence growing stronger and stronger, the pain going deeper, calling him, screaming for him. If he had crossed someone on his way, he would not even have seen them. He finally slowed down in a darkened corridor. One of the doors was open, letting a ray of the night lights illuminating the floor. Quiet desperate sobs were echoing in the room behind. Pushing the door, Heero took a minute to watch the scene. The room was a study, probably Mr Winner’s. Quatre was sitting on the chair behind the desk, holding a frame, violently shaking and crying. Heero fought the urge to run to him. He did not want to scare Quatre, and most of all he did not want him to close himself again. Quatre seemed to feel his presence, though, because he suddenly looked up, his green-blue eyes shining with tears and such a confused look on his face that it tore Heero’s heart. Heero forced himself to remain as calm as possible. He took several deep breaths and managed to bring the pain to a more acceptable level, although he had absolutely no idea how he had done it. Quatre had not had time to teach him how to build walls, and he was acting on pure instinct. Something he had never really learnt, but that he knew he could do. He began to make his way to the desk, walking very carefully as if afraid that even a noise would scare Quatre. When he spoke, it was in the softest voice possible. “Dou shimashitaka (1), Katoru ?” “I … I don’t … I”, Quatre stammered. In one fluid movement, Heero went to sit on the floor in front of the large chair. Raising one of his hands, he cupped Quatre’s cheek in it, a bit relieved when the blond young man didn’t evade the touch and leaned into it, seeking contact. “Ore to hanashitte (2) ?” Heero didn’t really know why he was speaking in his mother language. It just seemed adequate, and he knew Quatre could understand. Quatre looked down at the picture he was holding. Suddenly, he turned it, and showed it to Heero. The Japanese discerned a young woman whose resemblance with Quatre was almost breathtaking. “That’s my mother”, Quatre whispered between sobs. “She … she’s beautiful. You look a lot like her.” “I … I heard that a lot. But I … I sometimes wonder if my father would not have preferred her to stay alive. And if that’s why he stayed away from me for so long.” Heero shivered. Things were not right. “I am sure he was very sad that she died, but how could he blame it on you, Katoru ?” “It’s my fault she died.” “Don’t say that. Please. You’re only hurting yourself”, Heero urged. “But it’s true.” “No. No, it’s not true. It would have happened anyway. There was a reason why natural pregnancies were banned, Katoru. I fail to see why this would be your fault. In fact, I am sure … I am sure you were the greatest gift your mother could give your father, and she knew it.” Quatre stared at the picture for a while, stunned by the words. “How can you be so sure ?”, he whispered. “Because if she did it, Katoru, she knew the cost. She knew she was going to die. She knew what she was doing and she did it anyway. Out of love. Don’t belittle that. Don’t belittle yourself. Whatever people will say, you are the result of an act of love.” ‘And Holy Gods where am I taking all that from ?’, Heero wondered inwardly. ‘I don’t even know what I am talking about!’ “I … I wanted to be what he wanted, Heero. I wanted to be what he wanted me to be, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even do that for him. Allah, the last real conversation I had with him was a fight !” Heero opened his arms. “Come here, Katoru.” The young Arabian climbed down the chair and sat on the carpeted floor, sinking into Heero’s embrace and clinging desperately to him. “I just wanted him to be proud of me”, he sobbed. “I wanted to show him I didn’t have to be like him to be his heir. I … I just wanted him to love me for myself, not for some fantasy he had. I wanted all of them to love me for myself, and no one …” “Shh, Katoru. Don’t say it, or you’ll regret it. There are some people here who love you just as you are. And it’s killing them to watch you doing this.” “I’m so sorry! I … I wanted to try … I wanted to be … what they want … but I can’t ! I can’t ! It’s too hard !” “Then don’t do it”, Heero said earnestly. “Let it go. Be yourself. I want you back, Katoru. Please. I miss you.” Quatre’s eyes widened at the statement, as he suddenly realized how much he might have hurt his friends, and the wonderful person who was holding him right now. “Oh, Heero, I … I wanted to run to you most of all, but … I thought I had to be strong … for Father … for you. You didn’t need me to be weak now. You didn’t need …” “I need you to be you, Katoru. I need you to be the person that made my life worth living. I need you to be the young man who turned my world upside down just by looking at me. We need you, the real you, Katoru. Not just me. Duo, and Trowa, and Wufei, and Iria … We need you.” “Allah, what did I do ? I … I made you think I didn’t want you to help, didn’t I ? I … I thought I could do this on my own, be strong, and act like Father would have wanted me to.” Quatre snuggled against Heero’s chest, trembling. “I made a mess of things, didn’t I ? I screwed up ….” “Shh, it’s okay”, Heero interrupted. “You … you don’t have to be strong all the time, Katoru. Just this once, let me be strong for you. I … I want to help you, but I don’t know what to do.” “You’re here, and it’s all that matters, Heero”, Quatre whispered closing his shaking arms around Heero’s chest. “You didn’t leave. You stayed with me. I … I was afraid you would go.” “Why would I go, Katoru ? Why would I leave you, especially now ? I never cared about your name or you money. I care about you. I want you to be alright. I need you to be alright, or my life is hell. I want to see you smile again.” Tears were still flowing down Quatre’s cheeks, but he managed a smile. A relieved smile, a true and sincere smile. Without thinking, the young Arabian attacked his lover’s mouth, kissing him soundly like it was the first time. Heero didn’t need any further encouragement to bring the younger boy closer and return the kiss just as fiercely. “Heero, I …” “Shh, Katoru. Let me be strong for you. Let the tears out. You need it. I can feel it.” “Heero, you …” “Omae wo shinjiru (3), Katoru. Ai shiteiru (4). Ore wo shinrai dekiru (5). I’ll always be there. I promise.” And at those words, Quatre collapsed against Heero’s
chest, sobbing helplessly into the night, **** Duo had no idea what had woken him in the middle of the night. The great house was silent, Trowa was sound asleep, so there was absolutely no reason for him to be sitting in bed awake. And yet he was. Something felt … wrong, and he couldn’t pinpoint it. He had trusted his instincts to survive for as long as he could remember, and he couldn’t understand why they would wake him up now. Duo shot a look to Trowa. The young man was still asleep, but there was a light frown on his face, as if his dreams were not really pleasant, and he was muttering in a language Duo did not understand. Taking several deep breaths to calm himself down, Duo began to hold out his hand to nudge Trowa awake, but the green eyes shot open before he could even touch him. Trowa sat up in the bed and looked at Duo, a bit confused. “What …” “I don’t know”, Duo answered. “I … Somethin’ woke me up, but I’m not sure what it was …” Duo stopped talking when Trowa suddenly rubbed his chest in that gesture … so familiar … Quatre had done it so many times when he was troubled by someone’s feeling, as if the rubbing motion could make the throbbing in his chest go away. And Duo suddenly realized that he was feeling it. That awkward thing that felt like having butterflies in your stomach and a hand compressing your heart, and so much more than Quatre could have ever described with words. And he too rubbed his chest in that almost unconscious gesture. “What the hell …” Then his eyes widened. “I … I think we’re feeling Cat. But how … I dunno how this could happen but …” “He needs us”, Trowa said, going out of bed. “Come on, we must find him.” “Tro, what … you’re right. Let’s go.” Both young men only took the time to put on pajama bottoms before they stepped out of their rooms … and found a confused Wufei in the corridor. The Chinese young man was looking around, apparently ill at ease and trying to understand what was going on. His face became even more perplex when he spotted Trowa and Duo. “What is going on ?” “We must find Cat, Wu. Come on”, Duo only answered. Wufei’s face suddenly lightened as he understood. “How ?”, he asked, amazed. “No idea, but we’ll see to that later. Now, come on !” Heero didn’t know how long he just sat here, holding a crying Quatre in his arms. Time seemed to have slowed down. However, he felt the slight change in the atmosphere of the room and looked up, to discover Duo, Trowa and Wufei standing in the doorway, an expectant look on their faces. Heero beckoned to them to come closer, still not letting go of Quatre. No words were spoken. None were needed. The three young men went to sit on the floor around Quatre, who was still clutching at Heero desperately. Duo held out his hand to stroke his best friend’s cheek. Trowa took one of his hands in his. Wufei rubbed gentle circles on his back. And they just sat there, united in Quatre’s pain, and doing their best to make it better. Soon, Quatre’s sobs began to slow down a bit. The blond young man felt weird, in the middle of that circle from which so much love and care emanated. They were here for him. They loved him. Leaning in the tender touches, Quatre breathed deeply, gradually calming down and feeling an almost surreal quietness coming over him. Duo smiled gently to him once the sobs were reduced to sniffs. The American exchanged a look with Heero and pointed to a couch in the far corner of the room. Nodding, Heero gathered Quatre in his arms and went to sit with him on the couch, followed by the other three. Once Quatre was comfortably snuggled against Heero, Duo perched himself beside the Japanese and put his arm around Quatre’s shoulders. Trowa sat behind Duo and once again took one of Quatre’s hands. Wufei sat on Heero’s other side and hesitantly put his arm around Quatre’s waist. None of them even thought about leaving. This was feeling right. Being here all together felt right. For a while they just looked at each other calmly, communicating their support by contact. Quatre relaxed visibly and shot them a radiant smile of thanks. He had no idea what exactly had happened, but he would certainly not complain. He was surrounded by people who loved him and wanted him to be okay. He was surrounded by people who did not expect him to be strong, or to be anything else but himself. All those eyes were saying only one thing. ‘We love you. We are here for you. We can be strong for you.’ Happily basking in his friends and lover’s warmth, Quatre closed his eyes and fell asleep. Just before he slipped into that blissful state, he heard something. A known voice tugging at his consciousness. ‘I … I have no right to judge you. You are my son and I love you. Nothing else matters. I know … I know that you will make me proud, whatever you do. Always listen to your heart, Quatre. I did not, or maybe I was deaf. Listen to your heart, and never falter in your beliefs. Hold them out proudly.’ ‘I will, Father. I will.’ **** AC 198, August 22nd, L4 Colony Cluster, Winner Mansion, 8:53 AM “Are you sure you are up to this, dear ?”, Richard Anderson asked his wife for the hundredth time. “Richard, Quatre needs me for this”, Iria replied. “Khadija was good enough to take my place while I was in hospital, but Father appointed me to take care of things with Quatre after his death. I need to go over everything with him before the special board reunion.” Richard sighed and pushed the wheelchair on. Iria was very frustrated to be confined in the wheelchair, but the physical therapist had insisted that between sessions, she should not tire herself needlessly. Her husband and her sons had bullied her into using the wheelchair, and she had complied, because she knew they were right, but it didn’t make things any less frustrating. “I just hope he had a good night, he seemed very tired yesterday”, Iria kept on. “And neither he nor Heero came back.” “Hmm. It must be hard for him.” “Harder than you can imagine. Allah, I would have given anything to cry on this tomb, so imagine what it must have been for him.” “You Winners are strange, but I told you that already, didn’t I ?” “Yes, you did”, Iria answered with a smile. “Thanks for putting up with our strangeness, dear.” “The pleasure’s mine. I have the most wonderful wife in the known universe, two grown-up sons who would be the pride of any father, and my brother in-law is one of the finest young men I ever had the pleasure to meet. What else could I ask to the merciful Allah ?” Iria smiled fondly to her husband. “I am glad you and Quatre get along so well, you know. I was afraid he would miss a father figure, and you were always there when he needed it, without trying to take a place that wasn’t yours. You’ve always been incredible with him. I know it was something hard for you to have him in the house, but …” “Nonsense, Iria. Quatre was never an inconvenience. And Mahmud and Mehdi were absolutely delighted to have a ‘little brother’, didn’t they ? Although I admit the day we tried to explain Quatre was actually their uncle although he was younger was fun !” He chuckled at the memory, and Iria put her hand on his. He was truly a generous man, and she felt so blessed to have found him. He had supported her all those years, and was one of the few men to have married Winner girls not to be involved in WEI. As the husband of the eldest daughter, he had been offered a position, but he had politely declined it to remain in his small computer programming company. He was satisfied with what he had, and had never been greedy, like some of Iria’s sisters’ husbands. Yes, she was lucky to have found him. Richard maneuvered the wheelchair in the corridor leading to Quatre’s bedroom, and almost bumped into Sally Po, who was coming from the other way. “Good morning, Agent Po”, he said brightly. “Excuse me, but I haven’t my driver’s license for this thing, so …” “It’s alright, Mr Anderson, but please call me Sally. Good morning, Mrs Winner.” “Iria”, Iria said gently. “If we call you Sally, you must call us by our first names too.” “Alright.” “Have you seen my brother, Sally ? I was on my way to wake him up, but I see his bedroom’s door is open …” “Well, no, I haven’t seen him. I …” Sally’s cheeks turned a bright pink as she kept on. “I went to knock on Mr Chang’s door to see if we wanted to accompany me to breakfast, but no one answered. I assumed he was still asleep.” “That’s curious”, Iria frowned. “We just finished our breakfast, and Ahmed assured me that none of our boys had come down for breakfast, and yet …” They had advanced to the bedroom door. “ … the room is empty’, Iria finished. “Let’s try Duo.” Sally went to knock on the next door. “Mr Maxwell ? Mr Barton ?” No answer. After a reasonable delay, Sally opened the door. “No one here either, but the bed is unmade.” She turned to Wufei’s door and opened it without bothering to knock again. “Same thing here. Where are they ?” “I don’t know”, Iria admitted. “It would not be the first time my little brother would sneak out, though. Maybe they got up early, took something to eat in the kitchen before Ahmed was up and went into the garden to watch the sunrise. We used to do that a lot when Quatre was a boy.” Sally seemed a bit disappointed, and Iria smiled and winked. “I’m sure Wufei will have plenty of other opportunities to have breakfast with you, Sally. If you’ve got nothing else to do before you go downstairs, would you please accompany us to my father’s office ? I need to get some files to work on, and we can show you around a bit at the same time, so that you and Agent Noin won’t have to be accompanied by a servant everywhere for fear of getting lost. This house is awfully big …” The conversation trailed away from the subject of Sally and Wufei, much to the agent’s relief, and stayed on safer topics like the beauty of L4 and the necessity to start working on WEI as soon as possible. The ‘ride’ to Mr Winner’s office was more than pleasant as Iria tried to make her guest as comfortable as possible. Once they got here, Richard left the wheelchair for a moment to open the door before pushing it inside … and stopped dead. “Shh !”, he said to the women behind him. “Don’t make noise.” “Why ?” Richard got away from the door, and identical tender smiles appeared on Sally’s and Iria’s faces. The five young men were still bundled up on the couch like a pack of kittens. Heero was in the middle, sitting and still holding Quatre against him. Duo had found a way to lie down, curled up like a cat and his head on Heero’s thigh. Trowa was spooned against Duo’s back, his head resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder and one of his hand snaking out to rest in Quatre’s. Wufei was sound asleep on Heero’s other side, his head on Quatre’s shoulder and his arms around his waist. None of them had stirred, not even Heero. “Let’s let them sleep”, Iria whispered. “I’ll get those files later.”
Quatre turned his gaze to the windows. The bright morning lights were illuminating the room, giving it a whole new aspect. The artificial sun was happily dancing on the wooden desk and the ornate carpet on the floor. It was a beautiful day, and Quatre just felt glad for it, for no apparent reason. He looked up to Heero’s peaceful face, caressing his lips softly. The Japanese wrinkled his nose, but didn’t wake up. Quatre slowly disentangled himself from the loving arms that were holding him and slowly marched to the desk. He picked up his mother’s picture that he had left on the floor the previous night, and carefully put it again near the other picture. He sat down again in the big chair, and stared at those two pictures. His mother, his father, and himself. His father’s last words rang again in his head. When he had heard them, he had been to upset to really pay attention to them, but now … ‘I know that you will make me proud, whatever you do. Always listen to your heart, Quatre. Listen to your heart, and never falter in your beliefs. Hold them out proudly.’ His father had understood. His father had accepted him. Quatre had no idea why his father had finally realized this, what had triggered that recognition. But right now, all that mattered was that the words had been spoken. ‘You are my son and I love you. Nothing else matters.’ ‘I have no right to judge you.’ “Thank you, Father. I will not forget it”, Quatre whispered. “I will not forget you. Thank you.” He didn’t know how long he stared at the pictures, but when he looked up again, his friends were awake and looking at him with expectant faces. Duo was the first to speak. “You back with us, Cat ?”, he asked softly. Quatre smiled, a radiant smile that still had a bit of sadness in it which made it even more beautiful. Heero held his breath unconsciously at the incredible picture in front of him, Quatre in the chair, framed in the window, the glorious lights lighting gold in the white blond hair, and the little flame that was back into the gorgeous eyes. Quatre’s presence was here again in his mind, still sad but appeased, in peace. Heero sighed in relief. “I am back”, Quatre finally answered. “Thanks to all of you. I am back.” He walked back to the couch, and before any of the young men could move, planted a kiss on each one’s cheek, finishing with a light kiss on the lips for Heero. Then, he snuggled against on the couch in Heero’s arms. “Thank you for not giving up on me, guys.” “Hey, that’s what we’re here for, Cat !” “I’m sorry, still. I was …” “Stop it”, Trowa interrupted sharply, earning puzzled glance from everyone. “Don’t be sorry. You just lost your father. You had a right to be mad at the whole world if it made you feel better. And even if it didn’t. We don’t blame you for anything, okay ?” Quatre opened big surprised eyes and nodded, looking like a frightened kid, which immediately sent Duo in fits of hysteric laughter. Very soon, everyone joined, the tension of the previous night being washed away in a second. When everyone calmed down enough, though, it was time to try and get up, and discover how stiff they all were for having spent the night in such awkward positions. “I’m never doing that again”, Duo groaned. “Heero’s a nice pillow, but I prefer my personal one”, he added, snaking his arms around Trowa’s waist. ~ * ~
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