"Flicker Fade"

Written By: Miss Murdered

Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters - am just borrowing to torment for my amusement

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: m/m sex, character death (Howard – I love this guy and I kill him!), some angst, bad language

Pairings: 2x3

Summary: Howard's funeral reunites the former Gundam pilots in Hawaii. But the reunion is complicated by the fact Trowa and Duo haven't seen each other for years and the feelings they once had for each other have never quite faded.

"Flicker Fade"

 

Chapter Five

Hate that Song

The funeral was always going to be unconventional. Hell, Trowa knew that before he'd been informed of the Hawaiian shirts and board shorts demands. But then the unconventional aspects only increased as music was played by old guys with guitars, some old rock songs, and dancing was encouraged. He guessed that was Howard. He guessed he'd never really known the guy but then the whole affair was unique and different and what the old guy wanted.

Trowa couldn't blame him for his demands at all. It just was the weirdest thing he'd perhaps attended in his life. And he knew circus people.

Of course, Trowa's eyes kept going towards Duo. He was sat at the front with Lydia, the widow and he saw at times her hand on Duo's arm, him offering her his hand and it made Trowa wonder how it did feel to Duo. The closest person to Trowa in his life had been Catherine and he tried to imagine how he'd feel if she was gone. It was hard as throughout his life, born without roots or connections or family, he'd formed them himself so the idea of losing those people he'd brought into his life out of choice seemed to hurt.

He guessed that was how Duo felt. He knew Duo had never perceived Howard as a father - more a crazy drunk uncle - but he'd chosen to keep the old guy in his life and so he meant something.

When it was time for Duo to do his eulogy, Trowa felt his eyes narrow under his sunglasses as he watched Duo walk towards the makeshift stage on the deck, a small podium there where someone would lay notes if they were using them but Duo wasn't. Duo never would. Trowa could see despite the outward show of confidence, the quick walk, the way he hopped up to the "stage", that Duo was pretending, that Duo was hiding how he actually felt. It was in the small ticks, in the way his hands were balled into fists, the way he scratched at his arm, then scratched behind his head as though the phantom weight of the three foot braid was still there. Even if it was long gone. But Trowa saw and he guessed Heero did. Maybe even Quatre with his long held empathetic qualities but the rest of those assembled probably saw what Duo wanted - the grin, the mask, whatever he wanted to refer to it as.

"I guess this is going to take a while..." Duo began, a few laughs punctuating his pause. "Howard asked me to do this and he told me not to make it too damn long or smutty but we'll see, right?"

There were a few more laughs and Trowa looked around to see a few more familiar faces - men he'd seen around Sweeper vessels years before, even some men and women he remembered in the vague recollections from Peacemillion when everything was blurred by imperfect memories and amnesia and bloodshed and violence and war.

But despite the reactions of "the crowd", Trowa guessed he would refer to it as, he could see the performance. Maybe there was no stage make-up, no artifice of a costume but Duo Maxwell had always been the most proficient of actors and Trowa felt like he was sitting back and watching his show.

He made jokes - told the story about meeting Howard for the first time and some of the man's more dubious lifestyle choices. Trowa saw the genuine smile on Duo's face when he recalled drunken poker games and cigars and he noted his voice waver ever so slightly when he told those stories - his emotions showing through the pretence.

"And I guess that leads me up to more recent times. I always assumed the old dude would never find anyone to put up with him and then he met Lydia," Duo said and waved his arm towards where she sat and she bowed her head in embarrassment due to being singled out. "And then one day, I'm talking to him and he's asking if I screwed up the Sweepers yet and he tells me he found this chick who would travel the world with him. So maybe there's hope for me, right?"

The rhetorical question was met by snorts and jeers but Trowa suddenly felt Duo's gaze despite it being behind those dark aviator shades. He could imagine how Duo's blue eyes would look underneath, dark, his long eyelashes framing them and he levelled his gaze back unflinching. Trowa had offered, once, a long time ago to be that person for Duo - to be the one who would do every crazy ass thing, be the one to travel the world and colonies - when they'd been young. Before Trowa gave up. Before Duo pushed him away as it got "serious" and Trowa knew his face revealed nothing, his eyes hidden by shades but his jaw was set, unmoving and he guessed he appeared like he wanted to. That he was ignoring Duo's attempt at whatever he was attempting. As after all, he'd thrown Trowa out of his hotel room last night. Not the other way around.

Trowa barely listened to the rest of the eulogy, hearing some comments about the wedding, about the alcohol consumed and if he could've Trowa would've taken off realising once and for all it was a dumb idea to be here. As Duo always did that - confused him, fucked him over and really, maybe the one thing he needed to take from his whole impulsive visit to Hawaii was that they weren't meant to be together and he had enough proof to go back to work and his own life. Ask Une for a long undercover case somewhere as far away as he could go. Back to space. Mars. Hell, he'd take whatever.

The eulogy ended and Trowa had kept his eyes on his lap for the last five minutes, at his hands folded over the cargo shorts but he looked up when Duo walked off the stage to be hugged by Lydia. He saw the way Duo stiffened at the touch, noting the reaction in his body, the tensing but it past a second later and more music played, the "service" drawing to a close.

The final element was those close to Howard dropping his ashes into the ocean but that was to be done privately so it was time to "party", food and alcohol spread out on tables on the deck. Trowa had been forced to attend wakes before, wakes at family homes with children and partners and he found this one contrasted just as much as the rest of the experience had.

Unable to eat, Trowa was blaming the alcohol of last night rather than anything else, he excused himself and he saw Heero glare at him even through sunglasses as he was left in the company of Wufei and Quatre and, unfortunately for Heero, Zechs Merquise. Trowa was tempted to offer some kind of deadpan retort about sticking his nose where it didn't belong and this being the karma for it, but he didn't.

Instead, he walked around the ship trying to find somewhere away from the party, the sound of the band drowning out the sound of the waves lapping against the hull. There had been times, a long time ago, when Duo had just started to take a greater role in the Sweepers that Trowa had visited and they'd stayed up late looking at the stars on the deck, making love underneath the night sky and it all seemed so young. Naïve. Something. Trowa didn't think he'd ever used the term "making love" with anyone else. He wasn't sure that's what it had been with Duo but he'd been less cynical then. And probably in love.

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair and massaged at his head, the lingering effects of last night's alcohol and frustrating sexual encounter meaning his head throbbed. It proved he was getting old. He heard footsteps approaching on the metal, slow and steady, and Trowa guessed it would be Heero having found some excuse. Heero who would be bugging him, always so damn tenacious, trying to force Trowa to do things he didn't necessarily want to do. But it wasn't. He assumed dumping ashes into the ocean didn't take long but when he heard the soft "hey," he only shrugged and answered with his own "hey," barely audible above the music.

Duo joined him at the railings, leaning against them just as Trowa was, looking down to the waves.

"Did everything he asked," Duo said, his voice low, "hopefully the old dude will stop being a pain in the ass for me now."

The small chuckle was meant to be humorous but it sounded dark. Trowa wondered if other people picked up when Duo did that - tried to joke his way through everything.

"Depends if you believe in ghosts."

"Tro'... now you've put this really fucking weird image in my head of ghost Howard in my bedroom and it's kinda freaking me out...Mark that in shit I seriously don't need to think about."

Trowa wondered if Duo had wanted a laugh. Other people would've but Trowa wasn't other people so instead he continued to stare down at the ocean and listen to the music, hearing some cheering and clapping as one song finished and another began.

"You're pissed at me for last night," Duo said after a few moments of awkward silence and Trowa turned then.

"No. I'm not pissed about last night."

"Then what're you pissed about? I mean, Tro', I never was a mind reader so give me a damn clue here."

"This isn't the right time," Trowa answered, rising to stand straight and walk away as really, did Duo want to do this here, now? There was too much to say and then there was nothing Trowa did want to say. As what was the point? It would repeat and repeat and fuck it, it wasn't worth it. Maybe it never had been.

But Duo grabbed hold of his wrist, his hands tight around it and though Trowa could probably shake it off, he didn't.

"Don't walk away."

"No... that's your job," Trowa retorted, realising that perhaps the words had been too harsh when he felt the grip loosen and Duo let go, turning back towards the ocean, his body in a pose that was as defensive as it could be. "Duo..." he started in some form of apology.

"No. It's fine. Today's just rough. Funeral and all."

The clipped words, the pose, all indicated that Duo was done and Trowa knew that all defences had gone up. It was like a damn battle cruiser adopting a defensive position, shields up. Trowa knew there was nothing else he could say so he only walked back to the "party", deciding he didn't have the energy to join in, seeing how now people were in conversation. Even Heero who had seemingly been saved by Sally Po.

Trowa didn't belong here - not in Duo's domain, not among the other pilots, he belonged back in Brussels in his shitty apartment, waiting for another mission, so he might as well go back. He walked off the ship, ignoring the gleaming rental cars and decided to walk back to the resort, grab something fried and unhealthy to eat and then pack up his shit.

Bringing his cell out, he looked for flight times and booked a seat on the soonest one he could. And as walked he had the image of Duo in his head, leaning over the railing looking at the ocean waves, he realised it was a mistake ever coming.

'Stupid idea, Barton,' he thought, 'so damn stupid.'

~ * ~

Chapter 6

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