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"Shattered"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: R Warnings: nfidelity, Angst, Heartbreak, Slightly
Bastardized Duo, Emotionally Manipulative Duo, Basket Case Duo, Drabble,
Kissing Pairings: 3x4, 3x2, 1x2, 5x2 Summary: Quatre accidentally discovers the love
of his life in the arms of his best friend and learns the painful
lesson that trust can be broken even by those you believed would never
hurt you. "Shattered " Duo always called himself the “Bringer of Death” because he claimed everyone around him died, allegedly by his mere presence and involvement in a person’s life. He claimed everyone he’d ever loved had died because he’d loved them. What a load of bull, Quatre thought. They’d all experienced that. Quatre’s existence alone was the reason his mother died. His decision to join the war efforts was the reason his father died and with the explosion that killed him, his eldest sister, Iria, died to protect him from the impact against the satellite’s steel wall when he was knocked back by the blast at breakneck speed. She took the impact instead, the force shattering her bones, rupturing vital organs, and causing catastrophic internal bleeding. And he was no exception. Wufei lost his entire clan, including his wife. Trowa had lost his family and nearly his adopted sister on two separate occasions. Heero’s father was killed during a mission and his mother died when he was an infant. Yet, Duo went on and on about the lives he’d supposedly taken just by being alive and somehow mysteriously cursed. Immersed in his dark moods where he brooded and wept and lamented and raged, the other three pilots would act as though he was the only one who was surrounded by death. The difference was, the four of them didn’t bleat and moan and bring the walls down around them when they struggled with their traumas and couldn’t reconcile the blood on their hands. Duo did the exact opposite. And every time he did, the other three pilots fussed over him like he was a priceless vase that they were terrified of shattering which only encouraged him to continue doing it. Quatre wondered how he was the only one who seemed to realize what Duo was doing. For such observant, intuitive men, they were as dense as doornails when it came to Duo. Quatre had encountered the type many times before. People who acted like their own pain was so much more tragic than everyone else’s and made a spectacle of themselves at every opportunity because it gave them the attention they thrived on. Duo was nothing without his little audience. Nothing without his doting “caregivers”. If he wasn’t the center of attention, he made great strides to change that. And if Quatre sounded bitter, it was because he was and he was unrepentant about it. After so many quiet, intimate moments between him and Trowa were interrupted by another one of Duo’s “fits” which ironically seemed to happen every single time they took a moment to be alone together, he’d long begun to suspect that Duo was deliberately disrupting what little quality time he and Trowa had. Not that Trowa believed him when he voiced his concerns about the issue. Trowa would launch into a lecture about how Duo needed them and didn’t even get to finish berating Quatre for his “selfish petulance” because, speak of the Devil, Duo always had another convenient breakdown. Quatre was left feeling despondent and beyond frustrated when Trowa predictably jumped up without another word and abandoned him for the howling man three rooms away. Duo had already gone through Wufei and Heero, engaging in multiple flings with the two men, but was apparently incapable of settling on one monogamously. Quatre was positive that Trowa would never give into temptation no matter how much Duo simpered and batted his eyelashes. No matter how many times he donned his black skinny jeans and made a show of bending over in front of his boyfriend. Which was why Quatre was so gutted when he walked in on them in the midst of a rather passionate kiss. Trowa had left him once again, in the middle of their own makeout session, to tend to Duo who was having yet another “crisis”. Funny how they always seemed to coincide with any of them having a life outside of treating Duo like some damsel in distress. The devastation he felt when stepped into Duo’s room to see why everyone had suddenly gone so quiet and caught them with their lips locked together, was enough to knock all of the air out of his lungs. He felt as though he’d been kicked in the chest with a cleated boot. His gaze landed on Trowa’s hands, cupping the sides of Duo’s tear-streaked face the way he’d cupped Quatre’s own only fifteen minutes prior. The shining glimpse of tongues slipping between parted lips. The blissful way they closed their eyes. The soft smacking sounds and the mewls coming from Duo as he whimpered into the kiss. It was too much. Too much to bear as he watched them kiss the way lovers do, the way he and Trowa did, and Quatre wondered how long this had been going on behind his back. Considering how familiar and comfortable they seemed about it, he guessed it was quite some time. They both jumped when he cleared his throat and broke apart, blushing a furious red and averting their gazes. They’d been caught red-handed and the guilt was palpable. Not guilt over the kiss. Guilt that they’d been caught. There’d been no hint of remorse until they realized the one they’d betrayed was standing in the room. “So, Trowa…is he a good kisser?” Trowa looked so mortified, he couldn’t bring himself to form words beyond a few broken, mumbled excuses that never really reached fruition because they sounded as lame as they were the moment they reached his own ears. “You know what? I don’t want to hear it anyway. There’s no excuse for this. I thought you, of all people, were someone I could trust, but I guess I was wrong. Like I always am.” He couldn’t trust anyone anymore. The betrayal of his family, the Maguanacs, and now his dearest friend and lover. He was left floundering in an alien world, speaking a language that no one else understood. Lost, without a map to help him find his way home. “Quat,” Duo began, and if there was anyone’s excuse he wanted to hear any less than Trowa’s, it was Duo’s. “I’m really sorry -” “No, you’re not,” Quatre spat, so sick and tired of this whole bloody charade. “You’re not the least bit sorry. You’ve been weaseling your way between us for months.” He sneered when Duo’s eyes widened. “And don’t give me that innocent look. It may work on Trowa, Heero, and even Wufei, but it doesn’t work on me. It never did.” “Quat, I’m not -” “Do you think I’m stupid, or blind? I’m an empath, Duo,” he hissed, tapping his temple with a finger. “Did you forget that? I saw right through your bullshit from day fucking one!” And Allah, how satisfying it was to see their eyes bug out with shock from his rare utilization of crude language. And how satisfying it was to use it, too. “Don’t even try that act on me. It might fool the others, but it doesn’t fool me.” Trowa rose up from his spot on the edge of Duo’s bed and cautiously approached him, wanting to get close, but fearing Quatre’s wrath. It wasn’t exactly an irrational fear either. “Quat…baby -” “Don’t “baby” me, you cheating fuck. In case you haven’t been clued in to the situation, we’re done. Over.” He forced himself to ignore the crushed look on Trowa’s face, far too crushed himself to allow his love and sympathy for the man to crumble his resolve. It was Trowa’s fault this was even happening. He’d brought this on himself. He’d brought it on both of them, without Quatre’s knowledge, or consent. This was as cruel as it got. He turned his attention to Duo who was attempting to sway him with his giant, puppy dog eyes and instead of having the desired effect, it made Quatre want to spell it all out for him in no uncertain terms. People like Duo only responded to bluntness and brutal honesty anyway which was ironic considering Mr. “I may run and hide, but I never tell a lie,” was undoubtedly the most dishonest of them all. “You know, Duo. I’ve been waiting a long time to say this to you, but I never did because I’m probably far too polite for my own good. I know exactly what you are. I deal with people like you all the fucking time. You thrive on attention. You need other people’s attention in order to feel worthwhile. If the spotlight isn’t constantly shining on you, you just wither and die. It doesn’t even matter what kind of attention you get, as long as it’s something. Do you have any idea how fucking pathetic that is?” Duo crumbled beneath the gravity of Quatre’s condemnation and oddly enough, it gave him the strength to keep going. This was a long time coming and the day of reckoning had finally arrived. He straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin, looking down at the cowed man with as much disdain as he could muster. “You’re a manipulator. A rather good one, I’ll give you that. And while you have succeeded in getting most people, including my boyfriend, under your thumb, you failed to realize that you are not infallible. You failed to realize that not everyone is under your spell. And I promise you this: I am not the only one who is onto you.” “You make me sick. You are the worst kind of scum. You think you’re the only one who’s had it bad, but I have news for you. You’re not. The way you bellyache is so fucking pathetic. You don’t give a shit about anyone else’s pain. You only care about yours and how you can reap the rewards of it.” Despite his vindication, his own resolve was fading fast, replaced by a desolate emptiness. His voice began to quiver as the reality of what just happened closed around him like a velvet curtain after an encore performance. Betrayal bore down on him like a lead weight and he needed to get out of there, away from all this because he didn’t want them to witness his inevitable break. They didn’t deserve that much from him and he was not going to give them the satisfaction. He took a step backward, retreating back towards the door, leaving them with one final piece of his mind. The nail in the proverbial coffin. “You can keep him. As far as I’m concerned, you two deserve each other. I hope you both wind up miserable and alone and I hope you both rot in Hell.” He turned on his heel and quickly left the room, not knowing where he was going, but knowing anywhere was better than here. He stormed past a confused Heero, not even acknowledging his presence. He was too raw, too devastated to talk at the moment. He merely held up a hand with a muttered, “Not now,” and threw the front door open, not even bothering to close it on his way out. Wherever he went from here, there were no expectations. Only the gaping, black void of loss and the sobering realization that he was alone.
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