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"Brothers"Written By: ExecutiveShrimp Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, it belongs
to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. Written for pleasure not
profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, Get together fic, sap, angst, fluff,
citrus Pairings: 2x1 Summary: After the death of his mother, Duo is forced to live with his estranged father. The new family seems perfect at first, but the truth is entirely different and will be revealed as Duo starts to get feelings for his "brother".
"Brothers " Chapter Two I guess when I went to bed, I had expected things to change come morning. But only few problems are as easily solved as sleeping on it. This wasn't one of them. I opened my eyes and found myself staring into a room that was mine, yet at the same time wasn't. What I felt was disappointment and sadness and those incessant tears that kept stinging in the corner of my eye. When would they catch on that I will not cry? Crying is such a useless and hopeless thing to do. It's embarrassing to yourself and to others. I hate crying and I hate that she is making me want to. I have forgiven her but only on because I figured it was somehow not right, to hold a grudge against someone who is not here anymore to make things right. No, can't hold grudges against the dead. I glanced quickly at my watch on the nightstand. 8 AM. I groaned, rolled over and closed my eyes again. I refused to open them, I forced myself back into a dreamless sleep. When I woke I looked back over my shoulder. 9:30 AM I wondered if I could just sleep the days away, spend them in blissful unconsciousness where there are no sad feelings, no feelings of guilt, no feelings of being lost and no responsibilities and duties. I certainly made a good effort. I wasn't really used to it, the whole sleeping-in thing. My mom was a fervent believer of making the best of the day and normally, that didn't really bother me. Because the following day was really worth getting the best out of. Especially now that she is gone, I appreciate her dutifully setting our alarm at seven AM, because every moment asleep, was a moment not spent with her and one less great memory. At noon, I had to throw in the towel and accept my defeat. I hurried over to my private bathroom to relieve myself and then took my time taking a shower, brushing my teeth and getting dressed in the darkest set of clothing that I owned to reflect my state of mind. I leaned into the mirror and put in all my earrings, a whole string of them in the right ear and a set of two in the left. The social worker had made me take them out, she thought it looked too rebellious and intimidating. Interestingly, that is exactly why I liked them and why my mom let me get them. And it was exactly the kind of weapon that I needed to defend myself against the evil forces of Dullness and Conformity in suburbia. With my stomach growling, I made my way downstairs. I had expected them all to be gone, to work and school and whatever, but I hadn't really dared to hope. I was relieved to find a note on the kitchen counter. Duo, Cameron is at work and Heero is at school. I have a meeting with the Charity Committee. We didn't want to wake you. I'm sorry you'll be alone for most of your first day here. Help yourself to breakfast and make yourself at home. We will all have a delicious dinner tonight to celebrate. Tabytha. Celebrate? Celebrate what? That there were only 364 days left, surely. I noticed the lack of greeting and goodbye, just our names. She obviously didn't know how to handle herself in this note. I raided the fridge and cabinets for anything that I could stand and while munching on a sour apple after yoghurt and a handful of sugar coated cereal, I realized with a pique of interest that I had the house completely to myself. It might be an invasion of their privacy, but they had brought it upon themselves. Basically, by all leaving, they gave me permission to snoop. Right? I sure as hell didn't need more convincing. I started innocently enough, giving the refrigerator and the freezer another tour, noticing how everything was neatly packaged and labeled and stacked. The contents of the kitchen cabinets showed a similar pattern. There was a calendar on the wall, but I couldn't make much sense of it, it was completely packed, with writings in different colors, but for everything they used abbreviations to make it fit and I had no idea what any of it meant. Against the back wall there was a large glass cabinet with liquor. I checked the doors and confirmed my suspicion that they were locked. The lock was not part of the cabinet, just crudely fitted on the doors. Probably a recent adjustment in light of my arrival. Thanks for the trust, dad. I thought bitterly and then shrugged as I continued to rummage through their things, they were right not to trust me. And I didn't trust them either so it didn't matter. I was many things, but I was not a hypocrite. The kitchen was boring, so I moved on. The dining room I could skip after a single glance. There was just a large table with eight seats and a cabinet with crystal wineglasses. I crossed the "foyer" into the front living room. All the furniture was directed at the big, statuesque, cream marble fire place. An uninteresting painting of a flowing, grassy landscape dotted with trees to a backdrop of an orange sunset hung on the wall above it. The floor was dark, but everything else was light. Sand colored walls, big, pastel blue couches and white furniture. There was a comfortable, cognac leather lounge chair by a tall and broad bookcase. Curiously I titled my head and read the titles on the spines. Nothing that caught my interest. There were only few literary works, most books were both old and next textbooks on business, law, home decoration and organization. Boring. I opened every drawer that I could find but found nothing more incriminating than a TV guide with a hot, famous actor on the cover. I flipped it open to read his article, but then frowned when I noticed the family had highlighted programs with three different colored markers. The pink one was obviously Tabytha's. She had highlighted entertainment and lifestyle programs. The blue and the green marked programs were a bit more tricky at first, but I discovered an easily discernable pattern. Green was mostly sports, the news and some financial programs. Very little was marked blue, the programs that were evolved around technology and engineering. If two highlighted programs were on at the same time, there was a crudely drawn tape behind one of them. Green always won. They are so damn organized, I observed with a scrunched up face, putting away the guide, forgetting about the hot actor. They already knew what program at what time they would be watching a week from now. I never even used to know what city I would be sleeping in the following week. It was a little disturbing, all this control packed into one family. I walked over to the wall right of the fireplace that was completely filled with long shelves, stretching along the entire length of the wall and covering it from floor to ceiling. There were no family pictures, which was unusual. I turned and briefly scanned the room, realizing that I hadn't seen any family photographs anywhere, only artistic, shadowy pictures to fill the empty spaces on the wall, never any faces, just flowers or structures. Shrugging, but filing the information for later, I focused on the contents of the shelves. A lot of cultural trinkets from exotic trips and pictures of monuments. I recognized some churches from Paris, some bridges from Venice, the Sphinx in Egypt and the Taj Mahal in India. I knew them from those abroad travel magazines that my mom always got me, so I would have something to do while she drove our busted up truck sporadically through the United States. I had never actually left the country. She always promised me that we would, once she had seen all of America. I never really believed her, because we were dirt poor. But now that she is dead I sometimes blame her for not keeping to that promise. The final two pictures were of a big boat in a harbor somewhere and a large cottage in the countryside somewhere. Not interesting. I moved to the "TV room", connected to the living room by heavy double doors. I wouldn't be surprised if the room was sound proof. The large, wine red couch faced a giant TV screen. Displayed on a dark dresser were trophies and award for science and engineering contests. Heero's name was on all of them. What a geek, I chastised. All the way in the back was the sunroom. Glass walls and a glass roof allowed for a full view of the perfectly landscaped backyard. I quickly realized this room would be a disappointment discovery-wise, so I back-tailed out of there and made my way to Cameron's office. It was a very spacious room, in the back of the house, nearly everything was of a dark, rich wood. In an ebony closet there were a ton of gold trophies. I squinted to read the plaques on the bases. The oldest ones were sports trophies, the newer ones were awards related to business. It was obviously a shrine to Cameron's accomplishments. Apparently those were more important than family photos. I walked around the huge desk to investigate the contents and blinked in surprise when I noticed a picture frame on the corner of the desk. It was a sunlit picture of Tabytha and Heero. Tabytha wore a thin, summery dress with floral pattern and modest neck-line. She had her refined hand on Heero's shoulder. Heero looked younger than he did when I saw him the day before, a few years younger, maybe thirteen or fourteen. His clothes were much the same though, those dreadful, geeky pants and a formal button-up shirt. He wasn't smiling. Was the kid ever truly a kid? I felt sad and angry, looking at that picture. That should have been me and my mom. I'm not sure if I would have been happy then, obviously Cameron was quite the dick, it takes a certain kind of person to be able to walk away from your family only to start a new one, like we weren't good enough. But It was bittersweet to wonder how different the course of our lives had been. Maybe mom would still be alive if it had been her in that summery, floral dress. I wondered if Cameron sometimes thinks of the 'What if's' too, sitting here in this leather desk chair, looking up from his work at that picture frame. I wondered if sometimes he too thought that maybe it should have been us. I don't think I would have won him any science awards to display and mom wasn't classically pretty like Tabytha and honestly, she probably wouldn't have fit in that dress if things had been different, considering her severe sweet tooth but aren't there times he thinks to himself that maybe we would have been good enough anyway? Mom never really explained to me why he left, it was probably too painful for her. She couldn't even stay in the house where I had grown up, she wanted to leave all the bad memories behind as quickly as possible. She didn't even let me bring anything to remind me of him, it was too painful for her. With a sigh I continued my search. I tried the drawers but they were locked. Probably dumb business stuff anyway. I did frown deeply when noticed there was no computer, even though there was a screen on the desk. I knew some screens were a computer in itself, but this one wasn't one of those. I walked around the desk and looked at the wires coming down from the screen. I followed them with my gaze and frowned deeply when I noticed the cables disappearing into a small hole in the back of the desk. I walked back and seated myself again, bending over to reach for the cabinet that had to be hiding the computer. When I tried it, I found it was locked. Whatever happened to just password protecting your shit? I asked myself. I shrugged it off, in all likelihood it had something to do with his work, he probably had confidential business files on his home computer as well. Eager to continue my search in hopes of a grand, juicy discovery, I went on. I left the office and went upstairs. First stop, the master bedroom. The bedroom was enormous. There was far more space than a bedroom could possibly need. There was a queen sized bed, an antique dresser with matching mirror and chair and a loveseat under the window. Adjoined was a bigger-than-necessary bathroom done in polished marble and a large walk-in closet with his and her sides. Tabytha had a lot of dresses, Cameron had a lot of suits. They both had a lot of shoes. Everything looked expensive and the selection of labels that I looked at confirmed that. Luis Vuitton. Chanel. Mugler. Hugo Boss. Even their underwear had fancy labels. I was born without shame, so I had no trouble opening their underwear drawers. Cameron was a boxer-brief kind of guy. Tabytha was the lacy, less-is-more kind of woman. That didn't really mean anything whatsoever. Unfortunately, no embarrassing relics were hidden among the garments, so I shut the drawers and continued my hunt elsewhere. I tried a couple of the pockets of Cameron's jacket, but they were all empty. Back to the bedroom. I walked up to the bed, noticing the shine of the silk sheets in the soft sunlight. The material must have cost a small fortune. The contents of their nightstands were boring too. Health magazines and - judging by the peach-scented hand crème on one side and the large grey loafers on the other - gender appropriate, so they weren't using them for anything other than dieting and exercising tips. The bathroom; I had been saving it for last because I expected it would yield the most interesting finds. It was very clean and organized, nothing strewn about. The his and her sinks were easily recognizable, shaving cream, deodorant and cologne by one, a large number of crèmes and perfumes by the other. Both sinks had their own cabinet, but the contents were disappointing; supplies for brushing and flossing teeth for each, feminine hygiene - I lived in close quarters with my mom for eight years so the tampon stuff never really freaked me out -, female shaving cream and razor, a lot of nail polish, couple of run of the mill drugstore medicine for everyday ails and a nose hair trimmer, the only thing that actually disgusted me a little. The things I found were of no particular interest, but the absence of a product was mildly noteworthy. No condoms or any other form of contraception. When I didn't find condoms in either nightstand, I figured they would be here, but I was wrong. I wasn't really sure what this meant. Was Tabytha infertile? Did one, or both of them, had all the appropriate tubing cut. Or, worst of all: were they trying to make a baby? Maybe they just don't have sex, at all, I thought, because it was the easiest thought to assume. Done with the bedroom and adjoining amenities, I closed the door behind me after one last check to make sure it was like I had never been there. Knowing there would be nothing interesting in the other guestroom, as there hadn't been anything interesting in the one I currently occupied, the upstairs study was the last stop in the main house. Cameron had mentioned that Tabytha used it as her study, but I had been welcome to use it. I wouldn't find anything too private but I was on a roll and like any investigator devoted to the truth, I wasn't going to let any clues slip through my fingers. The upstairs study was decidedly more modest than Cameron's office downstairs, but still more spacious than would be the case in the average home. The room took itself a lot less serious than the office, with soft colors and modern, casual furniture. There was no computer, so I assumed Cameron surprised Tabytha with a laptop someday in the past too, picked out by Heero of course. There were a lot of magazines but also a lot of drawings of what seemed to be event rooms. Maybe she was a party planner or something, I thought. I remembered that the note said something about a Charity Association, but I found nothing in the study that pointed to a commitment to any kind of charity. The only person's welfare Tabytha seemed to be concerned with was her own. Above the desk was a large, framed poster of a young, tall, slim woman in a midnight blue, form fitted evening gown. She glared into the camera as she strutted down a white catwalk, rows of people in the shadow keeping attentive, mesmerized eyes on her. It wasn't until I had studied her face that I recognized the young woman was a young version of Tabytha. Apparently she had been a rather successful model and the poster, I realized, was her trophy, to be able to compete with all the gold and silver downstairs. Again, I found only one picture frame on the desk. I had expected the photo to be one of the family, but instead it was just Cameron. He looked a lot younger, enhanced by the fact that he wasn't wearing a business suit. He looked so young, the picture couldn't have been taken long after when he left us. It hurt my feelings that this was the one picture she had chosen to display, like some sort of victory, like an announcement of "Look what great guy chose me over her!" I felt a little deflated. Noticing my stomach had started to feel empty, I took a little break. I searched the cabinets and found and ripped open a bag of potato chips. I quietly and somberly made my way through about one third of the bag before I acknowledged that it wasn't the most nutritious meal and I put it away and grabbed another green apple. I opened the door in the kitchen that lead to the garage. Another thing about the house that was exorbitantly spacious. There was a black motor cycle that made me a little jealous and caused me to spend some time in admiration. There were five bicycles in total. Three regular, urban bicycles and two mountain bikes. There was also the regular garden equipment and some tools for the cars, like starter cables. In the back was a large work bench, with a wide variety of tools and to the side a large steel storage cabinet. I supposed that was the place where Heero built his award-winning, trophy-worthy engineering stuff. The handles of the cabinet had a big padlock on them. The winding, steel staircase didn't escape my attention. Heero had the entire loft above the big garage for himself, completely disconnected from the rest of the house. With that kind of privacy, it would be interesting to take a look. I started climbing the stairs. I had a marginal feeling of guilt, after snooping around all day. But I rationalized it away by reminding myself that they already knew a lot about me, Cameron knew of my past, knew my mother and the social worker filled them in on the more current details of my life. It seemed only fair to me that I would get a little information about them too. So I pushed all guilty thoughts away and continued to ascend the narrow, twisting steps. The landing was tiny, just enough to plant your feet on and gain your balance after basically contorting up the awkward stairs and there was barely any light. I grabbed the doorknob and turned it. The door was locked. "Hm." I tried it again. Definitely locked. "That's weird." I noted. "And disappointing." I wondered if locking his bedroom door was common, or if it was a new thing, like locking the liquor cabinet seemed to be a new thing. I accepted my defeat and the accompanying disappointment and carefully treaded back downstairs. I longingly looked at the motorcycle one last time before pushing through the door, back into the kitchen. I stopped dead in my tracks when a pair of eyes landed on me. "Duo, there you are." I stuffed my hands deep in the pockets of my jeans but it didn't matter, I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar. "Hey. I was just looking around. Great bike!" I tried. Tabytha sighed, but smiled anyway. "I had expected you'd be exploring." She commented and then walked over to the espresso machine. I wondered if that meant she had taken the time to hide certain things. "I hope you didn't overstep too many boundaries." "Of course not." I lied. "I- I'd be way too embarrassed. I just looked at all the trophies and the bike." The lie continued. "I'm guessing Heero is pretty smart." I tried to steer the conversation in a different direction, hoping she would somehow forget where we started out. "He is brilliant." She said but she lacked the motherly pride that I remembered from my own mom when she talked to random strangers about me. And I didn't even have awards to show for the shit I did that made her proud. She turned to face me, sipping her miniature cup of coffee. "He is also very private." "Oh?" I pretended not to know what she was talking about, after all, I supposedly only looked at the bike. She smiled again, a tiny, secretive smile. "I heard you coming down the stairs, Duo." Shit. New strategy! "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." I couldn't find a lie quick enough to finish that sentence with. "It's okay." Tabytha assured me. "I won't tell him. I understand your curiosity. It will be our little secret." I hesitantly agreed with her. "Thanks." I fell back on my previous attempt to change the subject: "How was your meeting?" "Oh, fabulous!" She exclaimed. "Just fabulous! I'm hosting an eighties themed dance for charity. Everything is going along marvelously!" "What's the charity?" My question seemed to baffle her a little, like she hadn't been asked that a lot, or maybe because the answer didn't really seem all that important for her to be expecting the question. After a substantial delay, she answered: "We are raising money for a new arts program in our local high school." "Cool." What was I supposed to say? I didn't really care. She finished her coffee and was silent for a while until she must have finally decided to bring up the topic she has been dreading to bring up. "Speaking of high school..." I knew it was coming sooner or later, but I hadn't expected this soon and the sudden drop of my heart and the churning of my stomach startled me. "No one is pressuring you, you need time to settle and feel at home, we understand that." She assured me. "But Cameron and I do think it is best that at some point you enroll in high school." I probably shouldn't pick a fight with her about the fact that I don't think she and Cameron should get to make those decisions for me, so I wouldn't. I had to roll with the punches if I wanted to sit out my sentence peacefully. "Yeah. You're right." She seemed a little surprised, maybe she had been expecting the exact kind of back lash that I had decided to hold back. "Great. Well, like I said, you should take your time. Cameron and I will contact the principle and see what we can work out." "Thanks." With a nod I walked past her and went up to my room. It wasn't so much that I dreaded high school in itself. I was pretty outgoing and easy going and never had much trouble making friends with my peers, mostly because I don't really care what other people think of me and that confidence just attracts people. What troubled me most is that it would be the first time back in a school, back in a classroom, since middle school. In the beginning, after Cameron left, my mom and I didn't move around too often, we stayed in one place a few months at a time, so I could enroll in schools. After middle school, my mom decided that we needed to pick up the pace, so I never went to high school, she home-schooled me, or rather car- and hotel-schooled me. We never settled down again and I loved that, I loved being in this little world with her, that constantly shifting world, where every time I would open my eyes, the view would be different. I had never expected that once I would settle down and tie myself down, it would be in a place like this. With a father of whom I knew nothing more than a few vague childhood memories. It was a harsh reality check and it had come much sooner than expected. I hadn't really been prepared for it yet. Instead of wallowing in bed, I seated myself behind the desk and booted up the brand new laptop. Someone had already taken the time to install everything and hook it up to wireless internet before repackaging it as my present. Seeing as Cameron confessed to have little knowledge of computers, it seemed I had my "brother" to thank for that. Using my limited skills that I picked up on public computers in internet café's and libraries, I accessed the internet and searched for the local high school. Knowledge is power, my mom always said. If you are scared of something, learn about it, understand it and then you will see it is not that scary. It is how she had taught me from a young age not to be scared of lightening and spiders, by constantly talking about them, constantly explaining them. Eastbroke High School was only a few miles away from my prison. It was an old, rather small high school that served the suburban region. It had solely unremarkable sports teams but on the school's official website they were celebrated like gladiators. I clicked on the tab of school clubs and teams and a long list of possible extracurricular activities appeared. Tabytha's observations that the arts program was meager was just, but it seemed like such an insignificant problem to devote time to. It's not like the artistic students had no other option, it was just limited. I clicked on "State Champion Mathletes" because it was the only club that proclaimed to be any kind of champion. A small page loaded, with little information, but the picture was satisfactory to my curiosity. It was a group of four, geeky looking kids in the same outfit of baggie pants and blue cardigans underneath blue blazers with the school Mathlete logo. Only one of them didn't wear a big pair of glasses, his eyes burned into the sensitive film of the camera. He stood on the far right and even though the kid next to him was holding a big trophy and the other three were smiling their crooked, braced smiles, he wasn't smiling. The text underneath read: "From left to right: Millicent Cho, Dwayne Luthern, Harrison Uln, Heero Maxwell. Winners of the State Championship." I looked at his serious face, he seemed almost tortured in the view of the lens. Jealously, I was curious to know why he was better than me. Sure, he is a genius, I thought bitterly, but I am Cameron's biological son! Isn't that supposed to mean more than trophies? I didn't even know why I was jealous, it's not like I had any interest in reconnecting with Cameron. Cameron didn't want me, or my mom, he wanted a son like Heero and a wife like Tabytha. And if Heero and Tabytha wanted him back, than that was fine with me, they could have him and all his riches, they were meaningless anyway. I just wished I wouldn't have to be faced with it all the time. The only person in the world that ever wanted me, was dead now. I stared at the picture of the high school, imagining myself walking across the courtyard soon. I decided to approach it from a positive angle, if I was at school I wasn't in that damned prison of a house. Unlike most kids, class would be my freedom. I reached into the bottom drawer of the desk and lifted out the laptop box, heavy with the photo album inside. I carefully pulled the album out, even though it had suffered much in it's lifetime. I opened it on the first page, where there weren't any photographs, just a written text. One I had memorized by now. My dear son, It is okay for you to miss me at times, but waste no time on it. Life is too short. That is the hardest lesson I have been forced to teach you and I'm sorry for the way in which I had to teach you. I pray that you will focus on the other lessons we have shared, the other things I taught you and showed you and the things you taught and showed me. I made this album for you because I want you to remember all of our great adventures. This album is filled with joyful and proud moments of our wonderful life together. I started working on it when you were only a little boy. I don't know if you remember, but you caught me working on this album once and I wouldn't show it to you, it was a surprise for when you were older; for now. You were very angry with me, because you always wanted to know everything. I hope you will never lose your curiosity and inquisitiveness, I hope you will use them to discover more things, to seek more answers and to gain more joyful and proud moments to get you through whatever pain you may come to suffer. I will cherish these memories forever and I hope you will too. As long as you do, I will be with you and I will accompany you on all your next great adventures. Love, Mom. I flipped the page and stared at the single photograph. It was a crude, slightly unfocused picture of my mother and me, taken by the waitress of the diner. I was just blowing out the nine candles on my chocolate birthday cake, that we later shared with the few other patrons in the diner on that early morning. It was the first birthday without Cameron, we had left the empty house behind only a few weeks prior and my birthday had marked a change. I guessed my mom had finally been able to let go and accept our new lives, accept that our family was just the two of us. It was probably a good thing that she never knew that only shortly after ditching our little family, he went ahead and imported his new, improved one. I closed the album. For the time being, it was too hard. I securely put it away in the box, back in the drawer. I realized that to avoid anyone from finding it should they feel inclined to go snooping as I had, I had to take preventive measures. It was probably a good idea to use the high school free, accommodating period to make some changes in the room that would mask me putting a lock on the drawer. I was dying to get rid of the polite, neutral color scheme anyway. It wasn't me settling, it was the opposite, I decided firmly, it was me rebelling against the environment that had been forced upon me. Cameron did say I could change it any way I desired. I would be holding him to that. And if he protested, I might get a fun and relieving argument out of it. Time had passed quickly without me realizing it. Which was a good thing, considering the amount of days left in my sentence... There was a gentle knock on my door and the door didn't open until I called: "Come in." Cameron's tall and broad-shouldered frame occupied the doorway. He looked a little uncomfortable and out of his element. I had moved to the bed, leaning against pillows propped up against the headboard, pretending to read a book while in fact I had been distracted by my thoughts. I cocked an eyebrow at him as he just stood there. "I hope I'm not interrupting." He spoke with a soft voice. I shrugged. "It's your house." "That is not true, it is your home too now and this is your room." His assurance sounded rehearsed. "Whatever." It was easier to be civil to Tabytha, she and I had no history, she had never consciously hurt me or my mom. With Cameron, it was different. I hated looking at his fake apologetic face. I wish people would just not do stuff they know will end up with them making an expression like that. "I just came upstairs to tell you dinner is ready." Cameron said calmly. "Tabytha and I discussed it and it will be fine if you feel uncomfortable and would rather have your dinner in your room." That's what I had done the previous evening. I had made it to the top of the stairs, following him, but then I had changed my mind. I couldn't do it. I couldn't sit there and listen to them talk about this perfect life that they robbed my mom and me of. That perfect life I was no part of and should never be. And I knew there would be questions, intended to break the ice and mend old scars, but I knew I wouldn't be able to answer them. Feeling relatively safe in "my room" and not quite ready to give that up, I told him I wanted to have my dinner in my room. "Okay. I will go get you a plate and a glass of water." He closed the door behind him. I didn't misinterpret the gesture as kindness. He was probably pleased with my answer, he wanted me there no more than I wanted to be there. That gnawed at me. The thought that I was giving him exactly what he wanted, hiding out in my room, not interfering with them, pretending not to be here so he could continue to pretend that I never even existed. I promptly jumped out of bed. With my feet on the carpet there was a moment of hesitation but I pushed through it. I walked out the door, down the hall, down the staircase. In the foyer I ran into Cameron, carrying a tray with my dinner as promised. His face betrayed little shock, but it was there and it fuelled my determination. "I will be joining you for dinner after all." I announced, staring him down. "That's great." He said after a short moment spent in thought. He turned on his heels and walked back, through the kitchen to the dining room. I followed him. "Our guest of honor will be joining us." Cameron said and he placed my plate and glass on the table, at the seat next to Tabytha. There was no mockery in his voice, but the comment still struck me as such. However, I was grateful that he seated me next to Tabytha as opposed to next to Heero, as Cameron sat at the head of the table. Judging by the look on Heero's face and the sharp, silver cutlery in his hands, I wouldn't be safe, sitting next to him. Added bonus, the opposite side of the table offered an excellent vantage point. The boy was stunning, almost unnaturally so. It had never been a secret to me, or to my mom, that I was gay. It was never something I questioned, I had always known. And I never had to go through the trouble of telling my mom, because when I started getting older she would jokingly point out cute boys and make son-in-law punch lines. I realized this household would be decidedly less accepting of this alternative sexuality and because it was none of their business anyway, I figured it would be best to keep it under wraps. However, that didn't mean I couldn't enjoy the view, the only enjoyable view in the neighborhood. Heero glared at me as I pulled out the chair and sat down at the table that was way to large for this little, dysfunctional gathering. He had caught me staring and it seemed to infuriate him. I obviously needed to be more careful and discreet. Though that would be challenge, I thought as I stole another glance his way, his features are striking and eye-catching. He would be a bittersweet addition to my punishment. Tabytha alleviated the tense situation with carefree, enthusiastic chatter about the charity dance she was organizing, referring to many different people that I had never heard of, including more and more gossip into the story as it progressed. Apparently someone named Liberty was trying desperately to hide that she had a bun in the oven even though it was supposedly "so obvious". The way she was going on and on about it, it must have been pretty big news and not of the joyous kind. That worried me. Why obsess so much with other people's lives? Why waste any time second guessing their decisions when there is a life of your own you have to lead? I looked at Heero again, I just couldn't help it. He didn't seem particularly interested in the detailed tale either. With a deep, focused frown he was looking down at his plate. He mostly used his fork to push his dinner around, only occasionally bringing it up to his lips for a bite. His back was rigid, his shoulders were tense, his face was purposefully angled down, away from me. Finally, Tabytha's story came to a conclusion and Cameron commented: "It's sounds like you have had a busy day." She furiously nodded and took the first bite of a meal that had gone cold during her hasty monologue. "How was your day, Duo?" He innocently inquired. I studied his face, it didn't seem like Tabytha had informed him of my little tour of the house. "Nothing important." "Are you enjoying your present?" He asked, eating absentmindedly. "Yeah, it's great. Thanks again." I looked over at Heero and from the way he tensed up even further, I knew he knew I was addressing him when I continued: "I wanted to thank you too, it's a really cool choice. It was really nice of you." My voice dripped with fake politeness, but I didn't know how else to make small talk and to make the world's most insufferable dinner bearable. Without looking up at me Heero grunted: "They made me." "Heero." Tabytha reprimanded with a hiss. Cameron urged her to calm down. "Heero, I know this all new to you, but you really should be nice. Duo is your brother after all." This time, Heero looked up. His piercing blue eyes found me and pinned me in my seat, the sudden eye-contact was like he planted his fist in my gut, knocking the wind out of me. His voice was monotone but that only added to the impact of his words as he said: "I don't want a brother." "Well that makes two of us." I snapped back, not exactly concerning myself with soothing the situation. "Heero, be nice." Tabytha warned. Cameron overruled her again. "Now now, everyone calm down, let's not get angry. Heero, I want you to apologize to Duo for what you said." Heero never broke eye contact with me, his gaze incredibly intense and intimidating. "Heero." Cameron urged. "Fine. I'm sorry." He snapped at me and he rose out of his chair. "I'm sorry you are in my life!" He yelled and then he stormed off. Tabytha called after him. "Heero! Heero! Get back here, Heero, right now!" The garage door slammed shut definitively. "I'm really sorry about this, Duo." Cameron said to me once the commotion had settled. "It is just hard on him, all these changes. Surely you understand." "Yeah. Sure..." I muttered. This kid thinks he has it tough? He doesn't even know tough. He has everything he could have ever wished for and he thinks a sudden, long lost "brother" being thrown into the mix is such a big change? Try losing your mom, being taken out of the only life you know and being dumped in the lap of a man who abandoned you for a better family, in a place where you know no-one and you have no securities. Tough luck little rich, genius-boy, I thought bitterly. So no, in truth, I wasn't all that sympathetic to his struggles. The least he could do was pretend to be nice to be. I didn't particularly care if he liked me or not, he had a pretty face, sure, but that didn't mean I would be pursuing him and on top of that, just because a piece of papers says that we are brothers, doesn't mean we are and doesn't mean we should act like brothers. So it didn't matter if he hated me or vice versa. I just didn't want another factor in this household to make my stay even more uncomfortable. Tiptoeing around Heero and being civil with him to avoid discussions on the matter with "moms and pops" would only be extra work for me, depleting my already insufficient supply of patience and self-control. The atmosphere was extremely uncomfortable. Cameron and Tabytha continued to eat, but probably only as an excuse not to talk. After a while, Cameron paused his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth and said to me: "If you would rather go upstairs, you can." I had a feeling he only said it because he would rather have me go upstairs. I could have stayed, to annoy him, but I would not only make it hard on him, I would also make it unnecessarily hard on myself. So I got up and walked away. I left my plate, even though I didn't get the chance to eat much. I had lost my appetite anyway. I knew I was an unwelcome presence in this family, but to have it yelled in my face made the truth all the more sour. They didn't want me to be here. I didn't want to be here. And yet there was nothing we could to change the situation. The whole situation was so fucked up! There was nothing here to experience other than discomfort and hurtful, old memories. I knew I had to stand it, but I didn't know if I could without forfeiting my last shred of sanity.
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