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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 6 Of course we completed our assignment according to Heero's schedule. I realized very quickly there was little room for argument. I had wished for our forced interaction to bring us closer together – to help him understand me and to help me understand him – all this time spent together, however, only led to us being comfortable enough around each other to exchange vicious words. Another thing I was quick to realize was that Heero was an easy guy to hate. He was arrogant, obnoxiously so, frustratingly quiet, inflexible, demanding and emotionally retarded – at least to some extent. Yes, he was very easy to hate. But I never did do things the easy way. I didn't want to hate him. Even though there was not a single similar strand of DNA in our bodies I considered him to be more like family than Cameron. Perhaps because our shared disinterest and distrust of our 'father' – I could tell Heero was apprehensive of him too – connected us. However, it seemed to be the only thing that connected us and that made for a terribly flimsy foundation of any sort of relationship; friendly or brotherly, or… otherwise, but I wasn't allowed to think along those line. On paper it was criminal and immoral to think along those lines. Best not to even tread down that path with the stealthiest of footfalls. So inwardly I just grumbled about what a stubborn asshole he was, with him sitting right next to me in physics class. The teacher was so impressed by our work, handed in two weeks before the deadline, that he felt inclined to give us another assignment. At least, that was the story we would agree to tell Cameron and Tabytha. The truth, Heero assured me, would not fare well in the Maxwell residence. I believed him. The truth was that we were sentenced to two weeks of detention – together! – because we showcased our brotherly tolerance for one another in the presence of the teacher and the thirty-something students riling us up. "You ignorant imbecile!" Heero had started it. He had smacked me upside the head with our thick report that we were about to hand in. He obviously deeply regretted giving me the responsibility of fabricating a front page for our report, seeing as I had clearly made of mess of it, by his standard any way. As a home-schooled kid, how was I supposed to know that there were very specific and strict guidelines for the front page? Down to font type and size! In my opinion the result was very professional looking, hell, I had spent all of my free period that day putting it together, because I didn't want to give him any ammunition. But now my damn brother was fully loaded and the safety was off. "Well, it's your own fucking fault, you should have told me." "You are right," He had agreed with a most sarcastic snort. "I should have known that I have to explain every single little thing to you… three times if not more!" "What's the big fucking deal anyway? We'll make a new front page after school. I'll personally go find the teacher tomorrow and hand it in. What's one day?" "As if I'd trust you to do anything right at this point." "Oh, fuck you! Daddy's little boy, daddy's trophy boy. You have to be perfect or else he won't love you anymore. Now you're this anal little bitch!" There were mean chuckles coming from the crowd surrounding us, momentarily distracting me. "At least I don't do everything wrong. No wonder Cameron left your mother, she was probably just as stupid as you!" Heero's vicious comment reeled me back into our heated argument. I had it coming. But still… Enraged, I punched him in the face. My fist connected with his cheekbone. Hard. The loud smack silenced everything, even my own heartbeat. Of course I regretted it as soon as my stroke fell. I hadn't expected a physical retribution of any kind. Honestly, I thought Heero would be the kind of guy who let his words do the talking. But just as the teacher walked in, witnessing my punch, and roaring out our names as he approached us, Heero recovered, touched his reddened cheek only briefly before steeling his gaze and lunging forward, tackling me to the floor. He got in two hard punches to my gut, cheered on by our classmates who made filthy catcalls, when the teacher stood over him and pried him off of me. The punishment was considered lenient, because of our delicate situation, being strangers thrown together in a house and promptly called 'brothers'. The teacher didn't make too big of a deal of it and if we agreed to detention, he would not inform the principal and then no parents would be called. We eagerly agreed. At home we had been keeping up pretenses that we were friends, we didn't want all our hard work shattered with Cameron hearing of our altercation. The lesson was started as usual and the teacher let us hand in our report in spite of the front page that did not meet guidelines. Heero made him promise that it would not affect our grade. Heero was seething next to me. In a way, this was a relief. I was relieved that he was not a psychopath, void of all emotions. He had me worried at some points. He seemed so… blasé about everything, like nothing could harm him. Not emotionally at least. I still hadn't been able to pry out of him why people at school were making remarks about his sexuality and promiscuity – to put it nicely. Not for lack of trying though. Every time he seemed completely unfazed. If it had bothered him, I was certain I would have gotten an answer out of him by now, for the purpose of shutting me up. He'd just shrug, or tell me to mind my own business, reminding me that we were not brothers, and no piece of paper was ever going to change that. Come to think of it… I scratched the back of my head and shot a sideways glance at him. He was rubbing his offended cheek, glaring at the blackboard at the front of the class where the teacher lectured incessantly. In spite of my persevering pestering, he had never denied the rumors. Whether or not that meant anything I couldn't possibly know, but it did suddenly strike me as odd. When my mom used to question me about things, I was always quick to deny them. Regardless of whether the accusations were correct. Duo, are these cigarettes yours? No! Duo, did you curse at the cashier? Absolutely not! Duo, please tell me you didn't steal this money. Of course not! "What are you smiling about?" Heero spat when he caught sight of my far-off gaze and curved mouth. "Family. I can't even begin to explain that to you." Looking away he grumbled: "Asshole." "Dickface." I said that a little bit too loud. The teacher spun on his heels and barked: "Maxwell!" "Yes?" Heero and I said in unison and then we turned to glare menacingly at each other. He sighed and continued the lesson. After class I followed Heero to his locker. He threw accusations of me stalking him over his shoulder, quickening his pace, but he wasn't about to get rid of me so easily. "I thought things were getting better. What happened this weekend that was so bad that you have to hate me again?" "I had to spend it with you. It was exhausting." He ripped his locker open and got out his coat. "Like you're a roll in the hay." "We don't actually have to like each other," he insisted. "We just have to pretend." "Yeah? And you figure we did a hella fine job of that just now? I may think a lot of things of Cameron that aren't exactly flattering, but he's not stupid, or blind. This act is going to fall through and who knows what kind of bonding exercise he will submit us to then." Heero let out a deep sigh and slammed his locker shut. I had expected him to stomp off and leave me there, but instead he heavily leaned back against the wall of lockers and seemed to wait for me to continue. In lower volume I continued: "I never asked to be part of this family. And I don't have the illusion that I am, or ever will be. I just want to make my way through this year and then I'm gone. Can't we just both work to make this year the least excruciating it can be?" He directed stone cold eyes up at me. "If you don't want this year to be excruciating, you should leave." "Can't you work with me here?" He didn't respond, he gritted his teeth. "Believe me, if I had the means, I'd do us both a favor and get the hell out of here. But I already tried to make it on my own and it didn't work, they found me. They brought me here. If I try to run they'll just find me again and bring me back. I don't think that is going to improve the situation." Heero deflated. Jeez, I thought, is it that much of a disappointment to know you are not going to get rid of me? "I know," he breathed. "Sorry?" He looked up at me again, something other than disdain in his eyes for once, but I couldn't make sense of it before he blinked and it was gone. "I know they will find you." I frowned deeply. "What? What do you mean?" Heero reformed his usual scowl. "Never mind. You wouldn't understand anyway." Then he walked off. "What wouldn't I understand?" I called and then jogged after him. "Do you know something? What, did Cameron send his goons to come find me?" I knew Cameron was once a successful lawyer, at a powerful firm and he always seemed to have a strong connection to the police force. Networking, bribing, who knew? All I knew was that before Cameron left, 'daddy' had a lot of cop-friends and he called in a lot of favors. Suddenly I imaged him as some kind of mafia godfather. The thought amused me, yet, at the same time, worried me. Cameron had never reached out to me or my mom after he abandoned us, but maybe, after her death, he finally felt some kind of responsibility towards me and maybe he was the one to put in motion the investigation that eventually found me making a poor excuse of a living at the Las Vegas casinos. Heero ignored my questions, he unlocked his bike, jumped on and raced off. I was left to walk home, in deep thought. When I arrived at the house both cars were missing from the driveway, indicating that both Cameron and Tabytha weren't at home. That was a relief. I entered through the garage door and spotted Heero's bike, next to the others and the black motorcycle. I could hear his footfalls upstairs, in his own loft above the garage. He spent very little time in the house, he was always up in his room. It wasn't a mystery to me what he did up there. I was pretty convinced Heero's life revolved around his studies. His room was probably boring too, utterly practical and impersonal. Still, I was dying to be in there. Not because of what I might discover but because it would be a victory. No one could frustrate me quite like Heero could, but strangely I was still interested in him. I feared it was because of something I didn't dare to admit, not even to myself. We may not be brothers but we were still… 'brothers'. I went into the house and upstairs to my own domain. I worked on my homework and then spent some time surfing the web. Somewhere near dinner time I was startled by an abrupt and curt knock on my bedroom door. Embarrassed I clicked away the high school mathletes webpage and called: "Yeah?" The door promptly swung open. I was surprised to see Heero standing there, looking as pissed off as he did in the picture that I had had in the background for most of the afternoon. "Tabytha just texted me, she and Cameron will not be back until late, so we have to arrange our own dinner." It was still weird to me that he didn't call them 'mom' and 'dad'. But then again, they were equally distant towards him, so why shouldn't he? Maybe, in fact, he should be referring to them as mister and misses Maxwell. That would more accurately reflect the nature of their relationship, as far as I had been able to observe these past few weeks. "Okayy," I drawled. "What are you in the mood for?" "I already ordered pizza, you can do whatever you want." After that announcement he stepped back and pulled the door shut. Thanks, I thought sarcastically. I jumped up and headed for the kitchen, to see if there was anything I could fix for myself. Heero was sitting at the breakfast table, waiting for his order. He had a tablet in his hand and swiped his finger from right to left across the screen as he leafed through pages of what looked to be a boring – probably scientific – document. "What are you reading?" I inquired politely as I stuck my head into the fridge for recon. "It wouldn't interest you. Too many big words." I rolled my eyes. The dumb-jokes were really getting old. I pulled out a lot of left-over things that I thought would make a pretty mean sandwich and set to work. "I think we did a pretty good job on our assignment," I remarked matter-of-factly. "We'd better." "Or else?" I shot back with a grin. "Or else I'd kill you." I chuckled. "You've said that before. I think your bark is worse than your bite." "How would you know? I haven't bitten you yet," He replied absent-mindedly, yet there was something dark about the comment. I ignored the implied threat and winked at him. "Hmm, come on over and have a taste, baby." He scrunched up his face in dismay, masking his shock. "How's your face by the way?" "It's fine. You hit like a girl." I chuckled freely. "We have to come up with an excuse," He started flatly, after a few moments of silence. "For what?" "For why we'll be home two hours late every day for the next two weeks. We can't tell the truth." He was adamant. "Oh, right." After a brief moment of thought I suggested: "We can just say we can only work on our extra assignment at school. In the science lab or something." "Acceptable." "It's a good idea, that's what it is." Heero's pizza arrived and without saying anything he paid for it and took it upstairs to his room. Whether or not it actually was such a good idea, I didn't know, but it didn't really matter, Cameron and Tabytha bought it, which was the purpose of it all. The next day we reported to the physics classroom for our detention. "I had a little talk with the other teachers," the physics teacher said upon our entry. With a smirk he continued: "Don't worry we have plenty of chores for you to do over the next two weeks. You can start here by cleaning this classroom, you can get mop and buckets at the janitor's office. Oh and don't forget to bring some tools to scrape the chewing gum off the undersides of the tables. That should keep you busy till five. Report to me in the teacher's lounge when you are done." After leaving those instructions he left us alone. "He's enjoying this way too much," I remarked as I watched him leave. Heero too left the classroom, presumably to find the janitor for supplies, so I followed him. The older man was more than happy to supply us with two buckets with hot, soapy water, two mops, rags and sharp tools for the chewing gum. Knowing of the altercation that got us in trouble, he joked: "Don't kill each other with these." I thought: Don't put any ideas in his head. I faked a smile and took my share of the materials from him and then jogged after Heero. We started with scraping off the chewing gum. A disgusting and frustrating chore that we both focused on intently just so we wouldn't have to talk to each other. I got increasingly pissed off. Even though I was the one to initiate the fight in a physical sense, by slapping him, he took it too far by tackling me to the floor and throwing punches at my gut – which had gotten quite bruised, the little asshole packs quite a punch – and his intense and aggressive reaction was probably what had gotten us into more trouble than my slap would have gotten us in. Besides he had started this all by overreacting to my understandable mistake! What was the big deal anyway? I was just being nasty when I said that he has to be perfect or else Cameron wouldn't love him anymore. Something about Cameron's life with Tabytha and Heero must make him happy – something more real and important than his son's outstanding grades – or else he would have left already, like he left me and my mom. Maybe that is why things blew up between us, after a promising change last Friday. Maybe we could never stop resenting each other because I would always be bothered by the unconscious pain that, in a way, Cameron left me for him, he was good enough and I wasn't. And maybe Heero would always be burdened with the realization that no matter how good his grades were, or of how many clubs he was president, he would never be flesh and blood and there would always be something 'special' between me and Cameron, even if I was a total idiot. I didn't know if that was what he felt, but I would be understanding if he did. But most of the time it just felt like he hated me for me. Every time that thought popped into my head, it became irresistible to yell back at him just as loud and just as mean as he was yelling at me. I hated that I cared enough to let it get to me. I wanted to fly under the radar this year, just make it through, make it through. I would have been fine being invisible to them. I didn't expect to care. I didn't expect to care that Cameron had once left me and my mom – I had never given it much thought before – and I didn't expect to care about this stranger that is supposed to be my brother, whom I owed nothing and who owed me nothing. Life had funny ways. "Why are you staring at me?" Heero demanded to know, annoyed by me as usual. I hadn't even realized I had been staring, lost so deeply in thought. I just said: "Sorry." Then I finished scraping the chewing gum off the underside of the last table. Heero blinked, now he was staring. Obviously he had expected an argument to ensue. "Heero," I started out of the blue, "do you hate me?" His answer was immediate: "No." I smiled, but that smile faltered as he added: "How can I hate you when I don't even know you, or care about you?" "Right." We didn't speak again. It was easier not to. Although, I wasn't really sure if it was better than the constant fighting, at least then we acknowledged each other's existence – by spitting on it. But Heero seemed perfectly content to not just not be my brother, but not even be a stranger, he disappeared, made himself part of the furniture, or part of thin air. As he sure as hell wished I could just disappear, for real. Why? God knows, but not me, that much was certain. He was probably just as confused as I was, not knowing what to feel, what to think. But that was putting words in his mouth. I kept thinking that he was like me, only to be reminded that that was probably a mistake. Why would he be like me? Why would he feel like me? Why would he think like me? Nature wasn't the answer. Nurture? I grew up on the road, abandoned by my father, watching my mother slowly slip away and not being able to do anything about that, or about her heavy guilt, that was in her eyes whenever she looked at me. Heero got adopted by a rich mommy and – my – daddy when he was eight, he probably remembered as much about his old life as I did – practically nothing, his life was all shiny and pretty, no hunger, no desperation, no cleaning mom's vomit out of the car seat. No, we were very different, I concluded grimly and shot a look his way. But I couldn't hate him just because of that and I didn't. I supposed I was so desperate for family, I needed him to be it. Anyone other than Cameron, the kind of father who abandons one son and spies on both. Detention came to an end. Heero jumped on his bike and sped off, I casually trotted after him. Cameron never suspected anything. It probably never crossed his mind that his prodigy child could be in detention. And with Heero as my wingman, I was never suspected of anything either. Two weeks of detention crawled by. It was agony. Silent agony. I was the kind of guy who needed conversation – word! Words! Anything! – but Heero was giving me nothing. We took our seats next to each other in physics class. The teacher started the class by handing out the graded reports. I waited with sweaty hands. I didn't care that much for grades, but I knew it meant everything to Heero and I didn't want to give him an actual reason to hate me. Then this year would be completely unbearable. If I could just avoid giving him reality-based reasons, maybe I still stood a chance. When the teacher walked by our table, he didn't give us anything, he leaned in and said in a hushed voice: "Meet me after class." Heero went rigid. And so did I. "What's that supposed to mean?" Heero didn't respond, but I saw him rub white knuckled hands together. Not good. That one class was more excruciating than the entire two weeks of detention. It was like sitting next to a time bomb, just waiting to blow shrapnel into my body. Around us whispers started, then chuckles. I threw a look over my shoulder and the girl behind me – in a cheerleader uniform – looked right at me, holding my stare, then she turned to her partner and leaned in close to whisper something in her ear. The girl covered her mouth to control the burst of laughter. The teacher snapped his fingers. "Maxwell, eyes up front." "Yeah, other Maxwell, take a gooood look." A boy leered. Everybody laughed. The teacher addressed him with a harsh tone: "That's it, mister Colt, you're out of here." The young man protested. "I didn't do anything! It's not like I got in a fist-fight with anyone," he pointedly looked our way. "I don't care. I don't like that kind of innuendo's in my class." What the fuck is going on? I asked myself. Heero ignored the entire interaction and was still just scribbling down notes on the teacher's interrupted lecture. "But-" "Out!" The teacher threw his arm up and pointed straight at the door. Angrily the student packed his stuff and got up, scuffing his feet. "And come see me tomorrow about that F I just handed back to you," the teacher added right before Colt slammed the door. I was too confused to focus on the rest of class, eager to know what was the exact meaning of all of that. But Heero's wasn't going to tell me, he neglected all my hushed attempts to get answers out of him. Blissfully, the class ended and we stepped up to the teacher's desk. The older man busied himself wiping the board clean as the classroom emptied. To the last one he called: "Shut the door!" And they did. "Sir, what was that all about?" He raised his eyebrows, surprised that I didn't know. "If you don't know then you don't need to know." That answer was more frustrating than Heero's cold shoulder, because it only made me more curious. "About your report," he opened up the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a familiar stack of paper. I frowned when I read the red and circled grade, upside down. A-. What the fuck was the big deal about an A-? I felt ecstatic, it was the best grade I had ever gotten. However that feeling soon drained out of me when I saw Heero's slumped shoulders. All of me was filled anew with confusion and curiosity. "I was hoping to avoid a situation by handing this back to you in private," the teacher explained as he pushed it across the desk, towards us. Heero shook his head. "I don't mind the remarks." "I do." The teacher said, talking to Heero like I wasn't there. "It's not just an insult to you, it's an insult to me too and I do mind." "What the fuck is going on?" The teacher looked at me. "I commend you for not paying attention to nasty gossip. You should keep it that way and stay out of it. Unless your brother thinks otherwise." "He's not my brother," Heero and I mumbled in unison. The grey haired man sighed. "Why did we get an A-?" Heero demanded to know, he seemed ready to contest the grade. "It was a good report, very detailed, very in depth, no factual errors. That is why it's an A. However, I did deduct some overall points for lack of focus. You get into detail about aspects that are leaning towards being off-topic. It made some parts convoluted." "What do you mean, we didn't write anything that was incorrect," Heero argued. "No, you didn't. An A- is still a great grade, Heero. It's just not an A or an A+, like your usual, because you delved into unnecessary information. I let it slide before, but not this time. Think of this as a cookie recipe," he held up the report, "mixed with information on the mass production of flour." "But that is valid information." "But not relevant when you are baking cookies, making the recipe difficult to follow and therefore affecting the quality of the recipe and the end result. You need to learn more focus in your papers. It's great that you know a lot of extra things, research a lot of extra things and put in a lot of extra effort, but 'extra' isn't always better." "But-" "The grade stands, Heero. Nothing," he stressed, "is going to change it." Heero ripped the report from his hands and stormed off. "Congratulations on your A-, Duo." "Thanks." I didn't feel very victorious. Not until I had some answers. I chased Heero to the bike stands at the side of the building. "Is an A- really that bad to you?" "Yes. Technically it's the worst grade I have ever gotten." "Technically?" Wheels in my head whirred as I puzzled the pieces together. "Is that what he meant with 'Nothing can change that?' You're in the habit of convincing teachers to change your grades?" He shrugged, unlocking his bike. I snorted and joked bitterly: "Jesus, what would that take, sleeping with them?" Heero stilled. I had my answer. It came as a shock, to put it mildly. "Oh my God…" I stared at him in disbelief. "What's the big deal?" He snarled once confronted with my flabbergasted expression. "What's the big deal?" I mirrored breathlessly. "You fucked a teacher for a better grade! Assuming there was only one." "There was only one. Now get out of my way," he demanded as I blocked the exit. "What the hell happened? Who suggested it?" He glared at me. "What does it matter?" He seemed to really be lost on the gravity of his stunning admission. "Well excuse me, but when someone drops a bomb on me like this I like doing a little CSI, figure out what the fuck happened." He sighed dramatically and obliged out of impatience: "He gave me an A-, I thought it was unfair, so I convinced him I knew my stuff by having sex with him so he would give me an A+. And he did." "Knew your stuff?" I waved my finger back and forth at him. "No, no. Have you ever watched CSI? This is not how it works. I need to know the exact trajectory of each fucking blood splatter on the wall." "Why?" "Why? Because apparently now I am involved in this, or so everybody at school thinks. Because they know, right? And that is why they call you a whore and mimic a blowjob behind your back." He appeared unfazed, despite my crudeness. "Everybody in that classroom snickered at the thought of us having a threesome with the old geezer to upgrade our A-! If you don't care, then you might as well tell me." "Fine." He leaned the bike against the wall and impatiently put his hands on his hips. Monotonously he started: "It was a Sex Ed class. In addition to a test we had to write an essay, on safe sex and what goes where and all that stuff. The teacher was this thirty-something Phys Ed teacher and he'd been eyeing me all semester and making shy passes, it was really boring." I frowned at that. Interesting choice of adjective. I probably would have used 'creepy' or 'frustrating'. Heero continued mechanically, rolling his eyes and sighing impatiently with frequency: "He gave me an A- on my essay and when I asked him about that after school he said that he didn't feel like I had 'grasped it'. He was being all vague and nervous. I knew my essay was flawless and I knew that I 'grasped it'. So I showed him." My jaw dropped, partly at the shocking story, partly at the nonchalance with which he shared it. "I asked him if he had a condom, he stammered that he had one in his wallet, so I took it, put it on his dick and showed him I knew enough about sex to deserve better than an A-," Heero clarified, probably mostly for shock value. He shrugged. "He changed my grade to an A+. I thought that was the end of it, but he got even more weird. The next year guilt was apparently eating him up so he confessed to the principal so I could get help for the damage he had done to me. What an idiot. Anyway, the story got out because of some stupid part-time school nurse. Everyone thinks it's just a rumor, but they like it so they accept it as truth." A deep frown marked my forehead. "And none of this bothers you?" He shrugged again. "No. The school year was over before he told, so it was too late to change my grade back anyway." I was baffled at his response. "But what about Cameron and Tabytha? Weren't they pissed off at you?" "Of course they were, Cameron at least. He hates it as much as I do when I get an A-." My eyes nearly popped out of the sockets. "No, I meant: weren't they pissed off, or at least concerned, that you had sex with a teacher for a better grade?" "Oh. Yeah sure." I didn't know how to process any of this. For the first time the thought occurred to me that in spite of what I had been through with my mom, he may well have been the most fucked up out of the two of us. He was so casual about it. It concerned me. Made me wonder how low he must value himself to use himself that way to get the best grades. Maybe it had to do with his past, before his adoption. Maybe he remembered more of his past life than I did of mine. Or maybe it was Cameron, putting so much pressure on him that Heero would rather prostitute himself in exchange for an A+ than admit to Cameron that he 'failed'. 'Daddy's little boy, daddy's trophy boy. You have to be perfect or else he won't love you anymore.' Had I been right? That made me feel sick. Not just because it might be true, but because I yelled it in his face. "Are you going to let me pass now?" I stepped aside but stopped him with my valid question: "What do you want to tell Cameron about this A-?" With his back turned t me he thought it over. "We have no choice but to tell him." His voice was dark. "We could lie…" I suggested quietly. "Like we told him we had an extra assignment instead of detention." Heero snorted. "That lie works because we said that assignment wouldn't be graded. He only cares about grades; measurable performance. He practically goes over my report cards with a magnifying glass. He won't miss a glaringly obvious A-." He threw his leg over the seat and sped off. I watched him go. I had some answers, but now I was only more confused and more concerned. I had expected that once I would get to know this 'family' better, I would feel better about them, bridge the gap perhaps. But with the first of the mysteries revealed, I didn't feel any better, nor did I feel any closer to them and I didn't want to be. Instead it became increasingly apparent how lucky I had been that Cameron decided me and my mom weren't good enough for him. With dread I went back to the Maxwell house. Cameron's fancy sedan was missing from the driveway, he was still at work. Light came through the street-facing window in the loft above the garage and sometimes I saw Heero's shadow moving along the wall. Inside Tabytha was walking around awkwardly on bare feet with toe-separators, her toenails a bright pink. "Ah! Finally, someone is here!" She exclaimed as she spotted me step through the front door with hesitation. "Come, come!" She waddled toward me, grabbed my arm and pulled me to the kitchen table. "I could really use someone else's opinion on this." "Why didn't you just call Heero downstairs?" "Oh, he's home?" Then she shook her head. "Heero isn't of much help when he comes to this." She directed me to folders spread out on the surface of the table. Travel brochures. Pictures of exotic places, foreign traditions and white beaches. "Cameron and I decided that our wedding gift to my sister would be a honeymoon vacation!" She announced gleefully. "She thinks I am arranging a lame midweek in an Aspen ski resort for her, but she went there the last two times, it's time to break the routine if she wants this man to stick around!" Tabytha laughed. "Now, I have my preferences, but there are two people going on this trip, one of them a man, so I need a man's opinion. What would you like? An African Safari? Or maybe a Caribbean cruise? Or perhaps a fourteen day city trip through Europe? Or, this one; a luxury vacation in the Icelandic hot springs? Or a cultural trip through Egypt?" I stared at the myriad of tantalizing images. Places I had never been and would never get to go. It made it difficult to make a decision. It was too impossible for my mind to consider, even hypothetically, for someone else. "Egypt?" I tried dumbly and I picked up a brochure with a picture of the Sphinx. She made a face. "It's so hot there and so sandy. A woman has to look good on her honeymoon, not all sweaty with burned skin and cracked lips." Then why did you ask? I wondered, frustrated. Clearly she wasn't going to let me go until we had reached a decision, so I made my next, random pick. "Africa?" "Hmmm… I don't know. To be honest, my sister prefers wearing animals to seeing them." She let out a hearty laugh. In the interest of speeding the process along, I opted for a city trip through Europe. "I'm so glad you picked that one!" She squealed. "I think it's the perfect honeymoon, lots of luxury hotels and lots of shopping opportunities." Poor guy, I thought, God knows how much guys like a two week long shopping spree with their wives. I retreated upstairs to mull over the overwhelming new information of the day. Suddenly, I saw Heero in a completely different light. He went from an arrogant, entitled snob to a troubled and damaged kid and I was surprised at my own emotional reaction to that; I wanted to protect him, I wanted to help him. Technically I was his big brother, if only by a couple of months and on paper, but maybe I should start acting the part after all. I had been obsessed with making this year bearable for myself, but my focus was shifted to making Heero's life more bearable. All in a day's work. I took my laptop into my lap as I settled back on the bed and went to the mathletes page, that I had visited so often. The picture hadn't changed one bit, the same people, the same setting, the same expressions, but I perceived the whole thing as different. Heero especially. I felt sorry for him, though I knew he would hate that and with argue with that. A few hours later Cameron had returned home from work and I was called downstairs for dinner. Cameron looked different to me too. I had always been suspicious and distrusting of him, but in the back of my head had been the glimmer of 'benefit of the doubt'. My concern for Heero and for myself, honestly – because what kind of household had I been thrown back into? – cast a thick shadow over that glimmer. As always, Cameron asked us about school. It was the only thing he ever discussed with us and after the revelation of that day that became all the more poignant. Heero shot a look at me. Maybe there was fear in his eyes, but I wasn't sure. He blinked and nothing but a dead stare remained. He redirected it at Cameron and started: "We received our grade for our physics assignment." "Great." Cameron sounded a little apprehensive and briefly looked at me. He probably worried that I would be responsible for messing up his son's perfect record. My thoughts paused. I wasn't responsible, it had been Heero's fault – I even asked him if the report wasn't unnecessarily elaborate. But I could pretend to be. I could take the responsibility. "We got an A-." Cameron's face turned to stone, his eyes fittingly stone cold. He held his stare with Heero temporarily, then fixed his gaze on me, expecting the blame was mine. "It's my own fault," Heero said before Cameron could accuse me, drawing his adoptive father's attention back to him. Cameron's white knuckled hands were strangling his steak knife and fork. The tension in his entire body frightened me, all the more so because his expression was so calm and impassive. "No," I interjected. "He's just standing up for me. It was my fault." At Heero's earnestly shocked expression I gave him a nod to reassure him that I was certain of my decision to take the blame. "I was worried this would happen…" Cameron said, disappointed. "Yeah, it was all my stupid fault. I wanted to do really well, but I guess I got a little zealous and I just added way too much irrelevant detail. The teacher had to deduct points because some parts were borderline off-topic." Our father let out a deep sigh. His hand relaxed and he placed the cutlery neatly on the table beside his plate. "Well, I appreciate that you tried to do well. But you should have been more thoughtful and you should have asked for Heero's guidance," Cameron said strictly. Then he turned to face Heero. "I am impressed that you were willing to take the fall for Duo's mistake, but I think you should own up to your own responsibility and your own errors. If Duo made mistakes than you should have spotted them and corrected them. I don't want you to slack off now that you have a partner to share the workload with, you should have known to check his work." It was hard not to be offended by Cameron's words but I was too preoccupied studying their interaction in a new light, given today's information. Cameron I recognized to be as dominant and overpowering as I had always perceived him, but I didn't notice until then how submissive Heero's demeanor was. He didn't look Cameron in the eye, he looked down at his plate, head bowed with shame. And he didn't speak, no impatient and frustrated 'uhuh's and 'yeah's that you might expect from a teenager. He only occasionally nodded his head. Cameron finished with a finger pointing at his adoptive son. "We are going to have a talk about this later this evening, young man." Heero seemed to shrink into himself. "And I think you and I need to have a talk also," he directed at me. "Okay." The tense atmosphere ruined everybody's appetite but Cameron's. Soon Heero and I were ordered to clear to table – no dessert, like we were five year olds caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar – and then we each went up to our own room. I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. I had homework due the next day but I couldn't focus on algebra and early American history. I remembered my mother, disappearing into her deathbed, becoming smaller every day. She had told me: Don't let them take you back to him. I still remembered the feel of the crumpled up bills in my sweaty palms. All the money she had managed to save up for that day. The day she told me to run from social services. I had assumed she didn't want me to go back to him out of spite, that she didn't want him to have me as a son after all, after he left us to fend for ourselves. But maybe in truth she had come to realize over the years what a blessing in disguise it had been that he had left us. What a poison he could have been to me. I barely remembered anything from before he left, but maybe in hindsight she had seen the signs of an overbearing, controlling father. I just hoped that had offered her some peace in life, to cope with being abandoned. And I just hoped that in Heaven she had no idea of me being in that house – his house. Late that evening there was a knock on my bedroom door. That was the only warning I got. The door swung open and Cameron appeared uninvited. As casually as I could I closed the screen of my laptop. Luckily it was angled so he couldn't have seen the mathletes picture – zoomed in on Heero's face – from the doorway. "I still wanted to talk to you." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. I straightened up in bed, I wasn't sure what I should be prepared for but for some reason my body instinctively prepared itself to bolt. "I couldn't be happier that you and Heero seem to have become genuine friends," he started. He sounded insincere, or maybe he was just really tired. He looked really tired. "That makes you his first and only friend. But school should be Heero's priority." He waited for me to agree. "Sure. Yeah." "I want you to take this seriously, Duo." His voice took on a more commanding tone. "I do take it seriously," I lied through my teeth, "I know how important school is for Heero. I don't want to get in the way of that." "That is very reassuring to hear. Please understand that I am not mad at you. You made a mistake, that is not unforgivable." I had a suspicion that he only granted me this leniency because he still sought for me to forgive him for his mistake, for leaving me and my mom. "You haven't been to an actual high school, so how could you know how to write a good report?" I took that as an insult towards my mother and her teaching – which she was great at - but I wisely kept my mouth shut. "I'm most disappointed that Heero didn't catch the error. I want you two to be friends, but I don't want Heero to lose focus." "I doubt he will." He looked at me for a long time, scrutinizing me. I stared back at him, growing increasingly uncomfortable. "I know Heero told you about the incident with the teacher." I raised my eyebrows. I hadn't expected him to bring it up and I hadn't expected Heero to tell him. "He said he didn't, but I know my son." Well, one out of two, maybe. "So you know how important it is for Heero to be successful academically." I couldn't contain my sarcastic remark: "Do you really believe that was all about his devotion to straight A's?" "Don't you assume things, Duo," he warned. "As much as I regret it, you don't know this family." Regret? I was unconvinced. "All I wanted to say was: I want you to be friends, but I don't want you to interfere. Do you understand?" I stared at him defiantly. He doesn't just not want me to cut into Heero's study time, he doesn't want me to snoop, he doesn't want me to know things. I could tell. That just made me all the more inclined to find out exactly what he doesn't want me to know. "Duo?" "I won't interfere," I promised him. My legs, casually crossed at the ankle, served as crossed fingers. "Thank you." With a nod he excused himself and left my room. "Fucking freak," I whispered to myself once the door was closed. He thought he had the right to secretly spy on me but he wanted to deny me the right to figure out this twisted family dynamic? I wasn't deterred so easily. He saved me from his own mind-control by leaving, forfeiting his ability to command me to either do or not do anything.
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