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"While You Were Sleeping "Written By: Prynesque Disclaimer: Duo, Heero, Gundam Wing… they
are copywrited to someone else. They are being used without permission
and no money is being made. I reiterate: they aren't mine (and if
you think they are you should probably take this opportunity to get
your head checked). However, this story is mine and mine alone, and
if you so much as think of nicking any part of it, I'll hunt you down
and set my demon kitty cat on you (be afraid, be very afraid). Rating: R Warnings: Yaoi/slash, romance, sap? OOC (this
is an AU – I think it’s a given), some swearing, lime/lemon,
alternating POV, possible Australian-isms. Pairings: 1x2 Summary: Duo, a lonely railway ticket booth operator,
is infatuated with Wufei, a complete stranger, who buys a token from
his booth each evening. One night, Wufei is knocked onto the tracks
and winds up in a coma. A mistake at the hospital sees Duo mistaken
for his boyfriend and a tangled web of lies is woven as Duo is pulled
further and further into the life of Wufei’s welcoming family.
To make matters worse, Duo discovers that he is beginning to fall
in love with Wufei’s enigmatic step-brother, Heero. This fic is based on the movie While You Were Sleeping (starring Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman) and I don’t own it either. It’s a fairly loose basis – namely because I haven’t seen the movie for years – and there will be movie plot mixed with my own kooky ideas. Feedback: Hell yeah? What I'm trying to say is
that if you feel the urge to review, please indulge it. I don't even
care what you say. Good, bad, it's all the same to me – just
so long as I get to hear from you. "While You Were Sleeping "
Chapter Two: Heero pauses in the doorway. His breathing is slightly laboured as though he has been running but he shows no other outward sign of physical exertion, in fact he shows no outward sign of anything at all. For the briefest of moments, he seems almost robotic, as though someone that collected, that emotionless, couldn’t possibly be human. He surveys the room calmly and coolly, taking in Wufei first, then Sally and finally his gaze is on me. His face is perfectly blank, not puzzled or confused like the others’ had been, but he pauses briefly, sharp eyes boring right through me. I suddenly realise how I must look to him: this strange man with a metre long braid that clings to the curve of his spine, short and skinny, all angles and restless limbs. It suddenly seems so very obvious that I don’t belong in this room with these people who exude wealth and charm and style. I flush automatically, a knee-jerk reaction in the face of such a reality. Perched on the edge of Wufei’s bed, Sally looks sophisticated and professional in a caramel-coloured pants-suit; she a woman brimming with confidence and ability. Still in the doorway, Heero cuts a bold, intimidating figure in a black suit, all crisp, clean lines; he radiates strength, self-assurance and something else that I can’t quite pinpoint. Even Wufei, lying prone on the narrow hospital bed, still retains that grace and elegance that always fascinated me. And then there’s me… my boots are so scuffed that you can barely tell their original colour, my jeans are ripped at the knee, inexpertly patched, and my top coat is faded from age and worn from wear, hiding further layers of shabbiness beneath its bulk. I probably look like I just crawled out of garbage can! I force myself to meet Heero’s gaze. His eyes are so blue… azure, cobalt, cerulean, indigo, sapphire. I remember the childhood paint box I shared with countless other children at the orphanage… so many different blues and yet none of them do these eyes justice. They’re just so very blue. God, that sounds stupid, but it’s like my brain has just stopped functioning. He seems to be staring right into me, blank and unreadable; it would be scary if I didn’t instinctively feel that there was something else behind them. He doesn’t comment. Instead he turns back to Sally, still standing in the doorway, as though frozen midway across the threshold. “I just got your message.” His voice is low and husky, nasal even, slightly clipped with the barest hint of an accent; it’s not smooth like Wufei’s which always made me think of rich velvet, it’s the sort of voice that ripples down your spine and I shiver. I think he notices because his head jerks sideways ever so slightly, blue eyes narrowed in my direction again. Again he returns to Sally. “How is he?” he asks, his voice softer, even slightly tender. “He’s in a coma,” Sally says bluntly. “We’re still waiting for the brain scan results.” She continues, rattling off medical jargon and diagnoses, like it was second nature, which of course, it probably is; she is thorough and efficient, in full doctor mode, but her hands are clenching the edge of the bed so tight that her knuckles have turned white. I sneak a glance at Heero. I can’t tell whether he understands Sally’s complicated spiel or not; his face is blank as he passively absorbs all the information given. He nods sporadically. Maybe he does understand. All those big long words… they probably talk like this all the time, refined and intelligent. “It’s a bit of a waiting game,” Sally concludes sadly. Heero nods curtly in response and finally he moves, just when I was beginning to wonder whether his legs worked at all. He steps into the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind him. He doesn’t have that effortless poise that Wufei has; in fact, his movements are almost stilted, like he’s never really gotten used to being in his own body. He moves up behind Sally and she melts against him, sagging part in anguish and part in relief. He places one hand on her shoulder, long, elegant fingers squeezing gently, his face betraying his emotions for the first time since his arrival. It’s such a tender, comforting gesture that I have difficulty reconciling the image of this man with the image of the wooden man that was just standing in the doorway. He is human after all. “He’ll be alright,” Heero says softly, reassuringly. His voice is full of confidence and that seems to seep from him into Sally. Even I believe his words. Sally smiles, still looking down at Wufei. She smoothes the wrinkles her grip has left on the blankets. “Of course he will,” she replies. Like Heero’s, her tone holds that assurance, as though their will alone could make it so. The briefest, tiniest little half smile twists on Heero’s face but it seems to crack the stern, stoic façade; faint lines crinkle in the corner of his eyes. Watching their interaction, their moment, I suddenly feel very much an intruder…it just seems so very personal, so very intimate; it’s the same feeling I get when I see Hilde and her boyfriend Alex kissing… like they are the only two people on the planet, like the rest of the world has just melted away. I wonder silently if I could manage to slip out of the room without either of them noticing. Unfortunately, the bad luck that has plagued me my entire life is still lurking in the background and my chair creaks loudly and abruptly the moment I try to move. Two sets of eyes are immediately on me and their moment is well and truly broken; I feel simultaneously guilty and embarrassed. “Who is he?” Heero asks. The question is directed at Sally but his gaze is still trained on me; his voice is rough, bordering on rude and accusing, and it feels like this must be another facet of the man that is Heero. This is suspicious Heero and the doubt in his eyes puts me immediately on edge. Those eyes bore into me again; I feel like I’m naked under a blue spotlight. “This is Duo…” Sally struggles to remember my last name and it eludes her. She looks vaguely disconcerted by her lapse in memory but moves on brusquely. “He’s Wufei’s boyfriend.” Her voice is smooth and calming, which I suspect is for Heero’s benefit, but also warm and inclusive, which I suspect is for mine. She smiles at me and I smile back. There are those words again… I feel a little glow inside. I resist the urge to giggle. Heero’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly at Sally’s words and then almost immediately, narrow again. He runs his gaze over me once more, taking in the thick, heavy layers of clothing and then my slightly bedraggled braid of hair. His face has gone blank again but his eyes are still alight, glowing with something that I can’t identify. I’m locked in his gaze and it’s like the rest of the room doesn’t exist. I feel overwhelmingly nervous; there is a troupe of butterflies practicing their tumble-turns in my stomach and they just won’t quit. Those eyes… it feels like they see everything, that they’ll take one look at me and know the truth: that I’m nothing to Wufei, that I’ll never be anything more than that to him. I hover like a prisoner on death-row, waiting for the final blow to come. But it doesn’t. He doesn’t denounce me, he doesn’t yell or scream or laugh or call me all manner of things that are probably true. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. Instead his eyes narrow even further to mere slits. It’s a look similar to the one my cat Attila wears when he’s decided to bide his time and wait for the perfect moment to strike with deadly precision. It’s a look that promises nothing good. I think I’d rather he just got it over and done with now. “Hn,” he grunts. I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean, so I wait nervously still feeling like a man on the block, waiting for the axe to fall. Sally casts Heero a quick, sharp look; the sort of look that innumerable generations of women have perfected over time, the sort of look that can instantly put a truculent child in his place. Heero rolls his eyes dramatically, probably more for my benefit than Sally’s, and then nods. He gives me a tight smile that doesn’t leave me feeling at all reassured. In that moment, Quatre and Trowa return. I think they must have been outside because their cheeks are slightly pink from the cold and Quatre’s blonde hair is windswept, falling into his eyes. Heero gives the first proper smile I’ve seen from him and it transforms his face. I give up counting the many sides there are to this man. He accepts a hug from Quatre; it’s not the sort of fierce, all-encompassing bear hug that Hilde and I often share, but it is affectionate enough, one born of years of strong friendship. He doesn’t hug Trowa but there is a warm handshake and some sort of strange silent communication passes between them because Heero nods and then Trowa nods and then they both smile and Quatre laughs. I shrink back into my chair in the face of their easy friendship, feeling alone and left out in my little corner. Quatre is saying something when I stand up, chair squeaking horribly, announcing my movement to the room. He pauses, mid-sentence, to look at me. They all do. “Um… I should go… er… got to feed the cat and all…” I trail off, wondering whether I’ve turned an unattractive shade of pink yet. God, I feel like such a putz… and evidently the years I’ve spent with the Jewish Hilde are starting to show. “Are you sure?” Quatre asks, blue eyes twinkling. No, they’re not blue, not like Heero’s… there’s some green in there as well. I realise that I’m staring and blush accordingly. “I was just about to suggest that you three come home with Trowa and me. None of us should have to be alone tonight.” His voice is almost melodic, soothing and enchanting; the sort of voice that automatically makes you want to go along with whatever it’s suggesting… Sister Helen’s was like that too. I feel a swell of gratitude and awe that they would automatically include me in their plans and something deep inside compels me to accept, to throw myself into the kindness of strangers. But then the awkwardness starts bubbling away inside me again; I’m feeling uncomfortable enough just being with them in this hospital room, I might wither and die of embarrassment if I were sitting around with them on their home turf. “Um… no, thanks. That’s a very kind offer and I appreciate it, but… I-I should get home,” I tell them. Quatre looks a little crestfallen at my refusal and I automatically want to reconsider. But I stand firm. “It was very nice to meet you all.” “Yes, you too,” Sally says, getting up from Wufei’s bedside. “Will we see you tomorrow?” she asks. “The brain scans should be in by then.” “Yes, I’ll…um… drop by.” I can feel the heat pouring off me now – definitely lobster pink. Three faces smile and nod but it is Heero’s gaze that I end up returning. He is not smiling, merely regarding me with an indecipherable expression. My stomach churns and I realise he will be far harder to convince than the others. And then I wonder why I’m trying to convince them at all – shouldn’t I be telling them the truth or something else equally responsible? Running away and never coming back suddenly seems like a very viable option, but when my gaze flickers past Heero to Wufei, peaceful and strangely vulnerable on that bed, and I know that I’ll be back here tomorrow. I drag my eyes away from Wufei and resolutely ignore Heero. I catch Sally’s eye and smile at her, immediately feeling a little bubble of warmth in the pit of my stomach as she smiles even wider, revealing rows of brilliant white teeth in genuine affection. I exit quickly, trying not to look too much like I’m escaping or like I’m completely hopeless. No such luck; I end up catching the tassels of my scarf in the door and spend an embarrassed few moments trying to disengage myself while they stare at me, no doubt wondering where about on Planet Loser I come from. I can feel Heero’s eyes following me out of the room and, in fact, they stay with me all the way down the corridor and into the waiting room.
And suddenly, the spell that enveloped me in that hospital room has been broken by the cutting wind that slices right through me. Reality strikes a cruel, heavy blow and I’m no longer Wufei Chang’s boyfriend; I’m just a pathetic little liar, starved of affection, clinging to a man who doesn’t even know I exist, infiltrating his family while he lies unconscious and broken. I wince at the voice in my head that tells me exactly what it thinks of me. My heart sinks and my stomach churns restlessly, nausea washing over me in waves. God, what the fuck have I gotten myself into? Two trains and a bus later and I’m nearly home. My building is the one with the gaudy plastic snowman out the front; Joey, the landlord, in a drunken stupor, thought it looked pretty and befitting the Christmas season. I’ve not had the guts to tell him it like looks like a crappy piece of junk and, apparently, neither have any of the other tenants. I plod up the stairs, my boots thumping heavily on each step. I round the corridor to see Hilde curled up on my doorstep, looking a mixture of anxious and pissed off. She leaps to her feet the moment she sees me. “Duo! Where have you been? Marge called me! Marge! Don’t ever do anything that would warrant frigging Marge calling me again!” She exclaims fiercely, whacking me on the shoulder so hard that I stumble backwards. Then she pulls me into a tight hug and bursts into tears. I let her cling to me; I’ve never understood women. She pulls away again just as abruptly, angrily wiping away her tears. “Can we go inside now? It’s fucking freezing in this corridor!” And then we are both laughing and she’s clinging to me again; I feel more like myself than I have all day. Attila is prowling tetchily in front of the door when we enter. He looks up at me, clearly pissed off. He pauses, mid-prowl, the look on his slightly squashed face saying, ‘Where have you been? You’re late; it’s nearly 11pm, the heating isn’t on and I haven’t been fed!’ I feel like a truanting son being chewed out by an irate parent. I try to look apologetic as I hurriedly strip off my many layers of coat, leaving them in a crumpled pile by the door. He smirks vindictively at me and I’m fairly sure that look is telling me that he’s shredded my favourite jumper as a punishment. While I feed Attila, piling his bowl with extra meat to try and placate him, Hilde fiddles with the heating. There is much banging and the occasional curse but eventually there is a swoosh of hot air and slowly the apartment begins to thaw. Attila wolfs his dinner in approximately eight seconds flat. He is back on the couch, reclining and looking satisfied but aloof, before I even have a chance to sit down and take of my shoes. I kick off my boots, sinking into my favourite armchair, relieved to be home. Opposite me, Hilde is still clinging to the heater, mumbling something about frostbite. Eventually she straightens up and de-coats, flinging her jacket over the back of the couch. She lowers herself gingerly onto a section of couch not being used by Attila. Two glowing green eyes narrow and suddenly Hilde has leapt up with a pained yelp, two sets of claws buried in her leg. Attila strolls back to his end of the couch and sets about washing himself vigorously, pausing every now and again to glare about the room and reaffirm his position as the Almighty Ruler of the Known Universe. Hilde glares at him, massaging her bruised thigh. “Honestly, Duo, why don’t you just get that… thing... put down!” she grumbles. “I would, but I’m afraid he come back as a ghost and haunt me,” I reply. Attila looks up as though he knows we’re talking about him. One ear twitches ominously. Hilde removes herself to a safe distance and then sticks her tongue out, blowing a wet raspberry in his direction. “Couldn’t be any worse than he is now,” she huffs. Wisely avoiding the couch, Hilde chooses to pour herself into my lap instead. We struggle in the armchair for a moment, trying to fit whilst maintaining the ability to breathe and finally we’ve reached a comfortable arrangement. Hilde takes a deep breath. “Alright, so tell me what happened? Marge said something about you getting hit by a train?” I’m impressed. Hilde is sounding far less hysterical than I was expecting. And so I tell her… this great outpouring of emotion that I’d been repressing since before I even leapt onto the tracks. I allow myself to shake uncontrollably when I reach the part where the train was whooshing past me and my voice cracks when I reveal that I really thought I was going to die. Hilde’s arms wrap around me, warm and soothing. I let her kiss my forehead and tell me how much I mean to her and how glad she is that I’m alright. I bury my face in her neck, inhaling the soft, fresh scent of her perfume, content to be alive and in her arms. After about ten minutes of uninterrupted comforting, Hilde shifts, trying to regain feeling in her left leg and accidentally knees me in the stomach, effectively ending our little moment. She casts me a sheepish look as an apology. We re-settle ourselves and I pick up the story again. I pause when I get to the part at the hospital, the bit where things start to get complicated. I’m halfway through detailing Mr Screwdriver’s injuries when Hilde spots my stalling technique. She knows me far too well to let me get away with any bullshit. So I bite the bullet and in a big, long, confused breath I tell her about Nurse Jones and the mistake and about Wufei and his family and how they accepted me without question, which, you gotta admit, is rare thing in this world. I stop abruptly to breathe, sucking in a great lungful of air, waiting for Hilde’s response. She just stares at me in disbelief and then starts laughing. She is mid-giggle when she realizes that I’m not joking and then her mouth drops open. “Who are you and what did you do with the Duo Maxwell who never lies?” she accuses, prodding me in the chest. That cuts a little too close to home. “I didn’t lie!” I say hotly. “You told a grieving family that you were involved with their comatose relative when in reality he doesn’t even know you exist!” she counters. Now she’s sounding more like the hysterical Hilde I know and love. “I didn’t!” I maintain. “Nurse Jones did.” Even I wince at that pitiful excuse. Hilde rolls her eyes, kneeing me in the stomach again as she shifts around to stare at me. I get the feeling that time it wasn’t accidental. “Yeah but you went along with it – that’s just as bad! A lie of omission is still a bloody lie!” In my heart I know she’s right and I crumple suddenly. I hate lying and I’ve always prided myself on never doing it. When I first arrived at the orphanage after my parents died, one of the other little boys asked me if I was scared. When I said ‘no’ he told me that lies make Baby Jesus cry and that little voice has stayed with me ever since. So I became Duo Maxwell, who would run and hide but would never, ever lie. And now, a few moments in a hospital room and all that is ruined. “It just happened. I know I should have stopped it but I just… I wanted so badly to believe that it was true.” My bottom lip wobbles pathetically. “As if! I’m just a pitiful little nobody, there’s no way someone like Wufei would ever want someone like me.” I contemplate drowning in self-pity. It doesn’t seem like too bad a way to go. I suddenly feel so very hopeless. “Fuck! I’m such a bloody idiot – me and my big fucking mouth. Oh, what am I going to do?” I wail. “Tell them the truth?” Hilde suggests as though it’s really that simple. “Just rock up tomorrow and tell them the truth. If they’re as nice and welcoming and compassionate as you said they are, they’ll understand I’m sure.” But even as she says that I’m remembering cold blue eyes. Understanding and forgiveness? Yeah right! Sally and Quatre and Trowa would hate me and Heero… God, he’d probably crucify me. Hilde catches my look. “Well, what else can you do? They can’t go on believing you’re this guy’s boyfriend… I mean, what if he wakes up?” I don’t have an answer to that – I hadn’t even contemplated that eventuality. “You gotta tell them the truth, Duo. And besides, what’s the worst that can happen?” I stare at her. “You mean aside from them thinking I’m some sort of stalker freak and throwing me out and getting a restraining order or suing me for fraud? Aside from that?” Now I’m the one getting slightly hysterical. Hilde seems stuck for an answer, which is probably a first for her. “Well, OK, it could turn into a bit of a sticky situation…” I raise an eyebrow at her understatement. “But it’s for the best, yeah?” “I suppose,” I mumble reluctantly. And of course she’s right – she knows that and so do I – I have to tell them the truth. But my resolve is already starting to crumble. Would it really be so very bad if I just held onto this little fantasy for a little bit longer?
Her boyfriend, Alex, sounds ever so slightly grumpy when she calls him to let him know she won’t be back until tomorrow. I can’t resist making a crack about sleeping with his girlfriend and although Hilde and I both find it a little too funny, Alex just huffs and hangs up on us. We curl up in bed together. We’ve been doing this for years. There’s never been anything sexual about it… we both just like the warmth and comfort that comes from sleeping beside another person. Of course that warmth and comfort usually wears off somewhere around 3am when I wake up shivering and realise that Hilde has stolen the blankets. The sound of the phone ringing shrilly wakes us rather rudely at half past six. Hilde flails wildly in her cocoon of stolen blankets and I roll off the bed, landing with a thump on the floor, only narrowly missing getting socked somewhere unmentionable. The lump that is Hilde has rolled over and gone back to sleep by the time I make it to the phone. It’s Marcus, my boss at the CTA. He rather ungraciously offers me the weekend off to recover from my recent trauma (I suspect this uncharacteristic behaviour is due to a fear that I might sue him for emotional damages rather than any actual concern for my well-being) and then proceeds to tell me that the next time a commuter decides to fall in front of a train, I should leave him to it lest I want to be fired. I’ve always loved the way the CTA show so much concern for their customers. At first the thought of a mini-break is most pleasing – it’s been months since I spent a full Saturday and Sunday at home rather than in a freezing cold glass box. I spend a good part of breakfast rubbing it in Hilde’s face (because she’s just so very cute when she’s grumpy and threatening to castrate me). But then she’s off to work and I’m left alone with my psychotic cat and not a whole lot to do. I embark on a series of chores that I’ve been meaning to do since July. Within a couple of hours I’ve darned two pairs of socks, taken my broken clock radio apart and rather inexpertly put it back together again, and lost a fight to the heater which is resolutely on strike. I’m bored out of my skull and Attila is eyeing me in a most disconcerting manner. As I don’t particularly fancy staying at home so I can turn into an ice-block and be tortured by a sadistic cat, I make a lunge for my jacket and am out of the door in a flash. Joey the landlord catches me on the stairs. His hair is greasy and disheveled and he seems to be suffering from a rather appalling hangover. He leers at me. “Mornin’ Duo,” he mumbles, clutching his head. “Morning Joey,” I reply, pausing to talk, more out of habit than a desire to chat with him. I’ve always felt a bit sorry for Joey. He’s not really a bad guy, if you’re willing to look past the whole drunken sleaze aspect of his personality. His wife left him a couple of years ago – ran away with the postman, as if you could get any more clichéd. He took it pretty bad and then took to the bottle pretty quick. Personally I think he’s better off without her; she used to order him about and generally treated him like he was completely incapable of doing anything right. Yeah sure, he’s not the sharpest crayon in the box, but she didn’t need to get nasty about it. But, he doesn’t see it that way. He still thinks she was his angel and is miserable on his own. He tries to compensate for his loneliness by hitting on anything that moves, including me. I’m fairly sure he’s not even attracted to me, he’s probably as straight as they come… but I think he just wants the company, wants to be wanted. And I can kinda understand that. I’ve gotten used to his sleazy remarks and really, some of them are quite funny. What he lacks in originality, he makes up for in persistence and delivery. “What’re you still doin’ here,” he slurs, from exhaustion rather than booze which is a nice change. “Shouldn’t you be a’ work?” Personally, I don’t think he has a clue what day it is or where I’m supposed to be, but I humor him. “Nah, got the weekend off,” I tell him. “Yesterday I rescued a man who fell onto the tracks and my boss felt I deserved a bit of a break.” Joey grins, revealing yellow, cigarette-stained teeth. “You can rescue me any day, kid,” he laughs, winking at me and then clutching his head again with a moan of pain. I roll my eyes at him, smiling in spite of myself. “So where you off to then?” he asks, leaning against the banisters. “Just going for a walk. Bored, you know?” I say, pulling on my gloves and securing my scarf around my neck. “I’ll entertain you if you want,” Joy suggests, leering again. “I sincerely doubt you’re up to it,” I tell him, fighting back a laugh. “Say the word and I could be… just for you,” comes the quick response. This time I do laugh. I wonder what would happen if I ever took him up on his offer. Probably wouldn’t have a clue what to do… just enjoys the chase. “I’ll bear that in mind,” I say, trying and failing to look serious. He waves me off sleepily and then stumbles back into his apartment while I exit out onto the street. The fierce cold hits me mercilessly. I’ve always hated the cold; it’s one of few the things I genuinely loath in this world. One winter when I was a kid at the Orphanage, our government funding didn’t come through and the gas company cut off our heat. It was freezing. I’ve never been so cold in my life and I’ve hated Chicago in winter ever since. I walk briskly, trying to regain feeling in the lower half of my body. I’m halfway down the block when it occurs to me that I am a complete idiot and should just have stayed at home. Anything Attila could dish out would have to be better than this weather! Just as I’m passing the bus stop, the number 17 bus pulls into the curb and a gaggle of elderly ladies clambers off agonizingly slowly. The number 17 bus goes right past the hospital, my brain helpfully informs me. And I sigh because before I know it, I’m already on board. Sally is there when I arrive. She’s perched on the edge of Wufei’s bed again, her legs folded, tucked up against the crisp white bed sheets. Her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail today but she is dressed in the same sort of neat, stylish suit she wore yesterday. Wufei’s hands are resting gently on top of the bedspread, smooth brown against stark white. Sally’s left hand is lying across his twined fingers, maintaining a sense of contact with his unconscious form. In her right hand, she is holding a clipboard and is intently studying whatever is written there. I hover in the doorway, unsure whether to enter or not. In my head, I practice my speech… the ‘I’m sorry, I lied’ speech. The words keep getting muddled and in my coat pockets, my hands are shaking already. I can’t do this, a tiny voice whimpers in my mind and a second later my legs agree and I try to shuffle backwards out of the picture before Sally can turn around and spot me. Unfortunately I’m so busy trying to be silent that I miss the nurse coming up behind me, wheeling a trolley piled high with bedding. I back straight into the trolley and it pitches over, taking me and the nurse with it. There is an almighty crash as we tumble over and land in a big, jumbled mess. When I finally manage to disentangle myself, apologies pouring from my mouth in a steady stream, I look up to see Sally standing in the doorway, watching me and trying not to laugh. I help the nurse to her feet and then we pile her laundry back onto the trolley. I’m still apologizing but she brushes it off, hurrying away as though afraid that Hurricane Duo will strike again. Sally has gone back to Wufei’s bedside but it’s too late now – she’s seen me – so I follow her inside, closing the door gently behind me. I clear my throat, barely controlling my nerves, and open my mouth to say my speech. Unfortunately, Sally speaks before I can get anything out. “The brain scans just came in,” Sally says. In my head I know I should just get my confession over and done with before I lose my nerve, but I’m curious… I pull up a chair beside her and she continues. “There are high brain activity levels which is a good sign.” She hands me the clipboard but I don’t bother reading it; I won’t understand it anyway. “So why is he still in a coma?” I ask, wondering if that’s a stupid question. She turns to me with a sad smile. “It’s normal for the body to shut down after an injury like Wufei’s. It’s trying to heal itself,” she explains for me. “Brain injuries can be very unpredictable and things can improve or deteriorate rapidly without warning… but at the moment, there is every indication that he will wake up. This is good news, Duo.” She smiles reassuringly at me and I manage to fix my face into an appropriate response. “Do you know when he’ll wake up?” “Unfortunately, no. There is no way of knowing for sure. Could be days, could be weeks…” she pauses but doesn’t take that thought to its natural conclusion which I’m grateful for. “We just have to wait. He’ll come back to us… Wufei is far too stubborn to let this beat him.” I laugh and so does she. And then suddenly she’s crying. Not desperate, wracking sobs – she’s far too composed for that – just silent tears of helplessness. For a moment I feel so very awkward, not knowing whether I should comfort her or let her exorcise her sorrow without interference or just leave. In the end I settle for shuffling closer and resting my hand on her knee, squeezing gently in what I hope is reassurance. She turns her head away from me to hide her tears but places her hand on top of mine and then twines our fingers together. I wait patiently and finally she brushes her tears away with a sniff. When she turns back to me, she looks vaguely ashamed. “I’m sorry, Duo. I don’t know what came over me.” She tries to laugh it off. “Wufei would tease me dreadfully if he knew… tell me I was just being a silly woman.” Her laugh turns into a choke but she controls it and the tears don’t fall again. I squeeze her hand and she squeezes back in acknowledgement. “It’s alright, better out than in, Sister Helen always used to say,” I tell her, handing her a tissue I’ve fished out of my pocket. She eyes it suspiciously and then takes it with a laugh when I assure her that it’s clean. For several minutes we just sit together in silence. I feel strangely calm and comforted, sitting here with her like this… just existing peacefully together. “I’m glad you’re here,” Sally says suddenly, catching me off-guard. I stare at her and then “Why?” escapes before I can stop it. She smiles and pats my hand before looking back down at Wufei. “I don’t know, really,” she admits. She pauses and I sense that there is more, that there are things that she needs to say, more to herself and to Wufei than to me. I make a gentle noise of encouragement and then she takes a deep breath and just lets it all out. “I guess… I’m just glad I’m not here alone. I never really noticed how sterile and alienating a hospital can be. I mean, it’s stupid, isn’t it? I’ve been working in hospitals for over ten years and it’s only now that I realise it.” I try to think of something comforting to say but no pearls of wisdom are forthcoming, so I just allow her to continue. “Everything is so white, so pale. I don’t like thinking of Wufei here. He was never like that… he was always so passionate… so alive. I remember the day he decided he wanted to be a lawyer…” She sounds so wistful, like she’s lost in the memory, and I wait for the rest of the story, rapt. “He just wanted to lead an honorable life, to spend his days doing something worthwhile… for society, for humanity. He wanted to be like the Lady of Justice, preserving and serving the law with truth and integrity.” She laughs. “He was always so determined, pursued that dream with that obstinate self-confidence…” She breaks off suddenly and then stares at me guiltily. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Duo… I’m sure you don’t want me talking about Wufei like this… I didn’t think.” She stops abruptly. “No, it’s fine,” I assure her. “I like it, actually. When you talk about him, it’s like he’s here with us… I mean, really here… I feel connected to him.” I can feel myself blushing. “Will you… tell me more?” I ask, hesitantly. I’m enthralled… when she speaks I get glimpses of this man that I’ve always been desperate to know. “Are you sure?” she asks. “Yes!” I say, a little too quickly. “Unless… you don’t have to, if it’s too painful…” “No, you’re right. He’d want us to remember him, to keep him alive until he was back with us. And I like it too…” She smiles to herself and then looks down at me. “It’s strange… what you said about feeling connected to him… I guess I feel the same. Having you here, this part of his life that was just for him… I feel more connected to him as well.” And that leaves me lost for words. Suddenly, all thoughts of telling her the truth just dissipate. How can I tell her now, after that? How can I deny her that connection? But she continues, oblivious to my internal battle. “I guess… I feel like Wufei has been drifting away from me recently. Not a conscious decision, or anything, just… lives diverging. Heero said something last night and I realised he was right. It’s been... oh, at least six months since either of us has really talked to him. We’ve all just been so busy… God, that’s such a pathetic excuse.” She shakes her head and sniffs again. “There are parts of his life that are just… so foreign to me. I remember a time when he would tell me everything. And the things that he didn’t, he’d tell to Heero who would just tell me anyway.” She laughs, but it’s a slightly sad sound. “But now… there’s this distance… I didn’t even know about you…” She pauses again and turns to look at me straight-on, deep brown eyes meeting and holding my gaze. She looks determined. “I’m not going to let Wufei slip away from me any more,” she says, with a nod. And then she takes my hand again. “I’m glad I’ve met you, Duo.” And that’s it… that’s the moment. My lie stops being just about me and it becomes about us. It’s stupid because she doesn’t even know, and yet she’s a part of this now. It feels like she needs and wants me to be here as much as I do. And I remember the brief conversation we had last night about family. In this moment, I am part of their family and I’m not entirely sure I ever want that to change.
And suddenly, Wufei is real to me. He stops being this romantic dream that waltzes up to my booth every evening and becomes a flesh and blood man. And for the life of me, I can’t work out whether I’m happy about this or not. Sally brings his personality to life through her stories… he’s dedicated and loyal and fiercely honorable but stubborn and even egotistical, he doesn’t suffer fools lightly. She paints me this picture and in my mind, I try to reconcile my Wufei with her Wufei. He’s a puzzle, she tells me, and I can imagine that. I wonder what it would be like to unravel that puzzle for myself. Sally disappears off to work in the early afternoon. I’m disappointed to see her leave. I like her company, I’ve come to realise. She’s a smart, witty, compassionate woman and I like who I am when I’m with her. Even if the truth just gets buried further and further inside me. I sit by Wufei’s bedside and after a couple of hours I work up the courage to hold his hand again. His skin is warm and soft against my own and I am endlessly fascinated by the way our fingers twine together, light bronze against pale flesh. I think about all the things Sally told me about him and let my imagination run wild… fantasy and reality trying to merge. We’re in Venice, because for me, it’s always been about Venice. The sun is sinking low in the sky, red and pink playing across the glossy canals. I can almost feel the gondola rocking gently beneath us as we glide through the streets. I’m seated in the V of his legs, his arms around my waist, so warm and comforting and strong. When he speaks, it is with passion and fervor, those deep, black eyes burning from within. He kisses me and it’s perfect. OK, so perhaps my romantic mental picture of Wufei hasn’t been completely erased. But when I open my eyes again, he’s still lying there unconscious on the narrow bed and I wonder if my dream will ever come true. I lie to myself, saying that it will. This lying business is becoming a bit of a habit. I fiercely hope that I won’t lose myself in the midst of all the untruths. There is a knock at the door just as the afternoon is starting to draw to a close. I’m slightly puzzled because I’m sure that Heero or Trowa or Quatre wouldn’t knock. I clear my throat and muster a croaky, “Come in.” A ginger head pops around the door, peering in, and then is followed by a body. He is short and slightly round, but he bounces when he moves, giving him this sense of boundless energy. He grins nervously at me from the doorway, shuffling from side to side slightly. His awkwardness reminds me of myself last night. I find it funny that suddenly I’ve become so integrated in this charade that now I’m the family and now I’m the one doing the welcoming. “Er… hi, I’m Dave… Dave Richards,” he enthuses with another grin, bounding forwards to shake me hand. “I’m Duo,” is all I manage to say because then he’s speaking again. “Jolly good, nice to meet you. I just called in to see how he was doing. We just heard this morning. Office is buzzing with it. The partners wanted to send some flowers but we weren’t sure if that was appropriate or not.” I mumble an “I’m sure that would be fine” but it’s lost as he continues. “Duo, did you say? Are you family?” “Er… no, I’m Wufei’s boyfriend,” I tell him, hoping to God that he isn’t Wufei’s confidant or something. “Oh, right, you’re the boyfriend. We thought there must be one. Wufei’s always much nicer when he’s seeing someone.” He stops abruptly and then backtracks. “Not that he’s not nice all the time. A thoroughly nice bloke. But I’m sure you know that already…” he trails off again. “So you work with Wufei?” I clarify. “Oh, yes, didn’t I mention that? Yes, we work together. And I’ll tell you, it’ll be a bugger not having Wufei on board for the Randle Case. We’re working weekends as it is. He’s a top-notch lawyer,” he concludes with a nod. “You know him well then?” I ask, interested to know, to learn more about Wufei. “Well, I guess so. We used to play Squash together. I don’t so much, anymore…” He pats his rounded stomach affectionately. “And Wufei, well you know…” He clears his throat while I expire of curiosity. I know what? “Still feel a bit guilty about that, really,” he continues, leaning in close, conspiratorially. “Forgot I had the pen in my pocket, you see. And well, whoopsie.” He laughs and then stops suddenly, a mixture of embarrassment and guilty playing on his jovial face. “But he said he didn’t blame me, you know, and he can still father children with only one… well, you know.” He nods and then double-takes. “Er… not that that’s necessarily a major concern for you and him being… well, you know.” He stops again and has turned a rather unattractive shade of pink. He lunges into his pocket and pulls out a hanky which he dabs his forehead with rather pathetically. “Sorry. Everyone says I talk too much.” I don’t have the heart to tell him that everyone is right, so I say nothing and just nod instead. “Anyway, I just popped in to say hi and pass on everyone’s well-wishes. So, I’ll just… better get back to the office. The Randle Case waits for no man, even on a Saturday.” He grins and then dabs his brow again, nervously. You have to feel a bit sorry for the guy. “Right. Well, thanks for coming by, er… Dave, was it?” I say, rising. “Yep, Dave Richards,” he shakes my hand again; it’s slightly sweaty. He nods and for several moments he just stands there and then grins again. “Right, I’m off.” And then he’s gone. I sink back into my chair, wondering whether this is what it must feel like to have survived a twister. It’s nearly five by the time I start thinking about leaving myself. I realise that I’m vaguely waiting for someone else to come along and take-up my bedside vigil. But then I’m afraid that it might be Heero and I’m not sure I’m ready to face him again. I stare at the wall above Wufei’s bed, remembering cold blue eyes. There was something about him, but I just can’t quite seem to put my finger on it. It niggles at my brain, irritating and relentless. He’s a puzzle, Sally had said about Wufei… but I can’t help thinking that it’s Heero that’s the puzzle. Puzzlingly enigmatic. I look back down at Wufei, trying to remember his eyes, those deep brown eyes that would bore through the glass of my booth and straight into my own eyes. But frustratingly, now all I can see is blue. I sigh heavily and, giving Wufei’s soft hands one last stroke, I collect my coat and creep out of the room. I wander down the corridor, letting my fingers gently scrap along the clean, white walls. Sally was right… all this white; it does seem so very alien. Just as I’m rounding the corridor, about to emerge into the waiting room, I connect with something warm and solid. I stumble backwards, steadying myself by clinging to a nearby plastic pot-plant. And that’s when I look up and there are those cold blue eyes again. “Hi, Heero,” I croak, immediately mentally cursing myself for blushing. Those eyes survey me, narrowing again. “I was just heading home…” I trail off, Heero’s glare effectively cutting off my ability to form sentences. For what feels like hours we just stand there, staring at each other. Eventually there is an annoyed cough from behind me, and a rather formidable-looking nurse pointedly asks me to move because I’m blocking the corridor. I apologise automatically, moving aside to let her pass and forcing Heero to step backwards. “Right…” I try. “Um… I talked to Sally this morning. The brain scans are back. She said it was good news…” “She called me,” Heero says, cutting me off. “Of course.” I cast him a nervous little smile and receive a blank look in return. I try again. “Someone from Wufei’s work dropped by. He sent his best wishes.” Again there is nothing but blankness. And suddenly I’m very tired. Those eyes are so very unforgiving. I find myself longing for the way it was with Sally; the way everything was so very simple. “Right, well, goodnight,” I say abruptly, turning on my heel and pushing past him. He catches up to me as I’m exiting the waiting room. We shiver as one as the cold air hits us simultaneously. He follows me for several paces before I whirl around to face him. He almost collides with me. “What do you want?” I ask him wearily. Those eyes narrow again and I’m rather tired of seeing that expression on his face. I’m tired of the way he can make me feel like I’m nothing, even though, let’s face, I am. He considers me carefully. “You’re not Wufei’s type,” he accuses. I swallow heavily. “Well… life would be pretty boring if we all stuck to our own type,” I retort, sharper than I had intended. Those eyes narrow even further. “Wufei liked his life to be ordered and proper. He would never have gone out with someone as… unpredictable as you.” For some reason that riles me. “Oh, and what’s that supposed to mean?” I snap. “You don’t even know me!” I wonder why I’m being so self-righteous. Maybe Heero’s right… maybe I’m not Wufei’s type. I sure as Hell ain’t his bloody boyfriend. He stands his ground, staring me down. And of course, he wins. I pale in the face of such endless blue. But he doesn’t answer my question, instead responding with one of his own. “If you are really Wufei’s boyfriend then you know all about his… accident, wouldn’t you?” he asks, there is something almost vindictive in his voice. “Fine, if that’s the way you want to play this. Yes, I know all about his accident. And just for the record, regardless of whose type I am, I’m not the sort of guy to discriminate on the basis of whether someone has one testicle or two!” I declare, praying to the God that I no longer believe in that we’re on the same page and that I’ve not just made a complete pillock of myself. Heero’s eyes narrow, yet again, and then he nods stonily. “You’re still not his type,” he maintains, forcefully. “Yeah, well funnily enough, I don’t give a shit.” The glare is back and I sag. “Look, Heero, I don’t want to fight with you.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to stave off the impending headache. “You don’t have to like me but we’re here because we both care about Wufei and I think that he’d expect us to at least make an effort to get along.” Heero recoils as though he’s been stung by my words. His mouth sets in a blank line but his eyes are swirling like a turbulent sea. He doesn’t seem to have the words to say what he wants to say. He clenches his jaw, still staring at me. I sigh heavily. “Goodnight, Heero,” I say. And then I’m walking away and again those eyes follow me all the way down the road. ~ * ~ |
