"Warheads"

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: Post War, angst, fluff, psychological issues, lemon

Pairings: 2x1

Summary: Duo and Heero try to become more than comrades in their attempt to be normal young men. They settle down but find that peacetime is difficult to adjust to and with only each other to rely on, it is a struggle, especially for Heero.

" Warheads "

Part XXIX - Mirror, mirror

When I woke up, it was yet to be morning. The hour displayed on the electronic alarm was ungodly. The sun was still busily preoccupied on the other hemisphere, yet light flooded into the bedroom, pouring white over all the dark surfaces. I squinted at the source, the rectangular shape of the bathroom door opening. In a dazed and confused state caused by the deep sleep I had previously enjoyed, I swung my legs over the edge of my bed as I usually did, but rather than my knees bending and my feet planting on the floor, my legs just ended up outstretched across a second mattress. I felt the softness and cold of the sheets on my heels and the back of my calves.

"Heero?" I wondered groggily, my mind struggling to grasp reality.

Gagging and coughing, barely veiled by an attempt to be quiet, echoed off the bare tile walls of the bathroom.

I immediately crawled off the adjoined beds and barefoot padded across the room. I halted in the doorway, momentarily overwhelmed by the intensity of the light. Soon, contrasted against the white shapes that filled the space, Heero's kneeled, slumped silhouette appeared to me. With both hands he held onto the seat of the toilet as his face, shielded from sight by his messy mop of hair, hovered above it. I approached him slowly and crouched down next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back as his whole body violently convulsed and the delicious, overpriced dinner we had had, ended in the toilet bowl. Knowing there was nothing I could do for him, I tried to show my support by rubbing his back and sometimes, when he leaned forward too far as he gagged, I reached out my hand and pulled back his bangs so he wouldn't soil them.

"It's okay." I whispered.

"I'm sorry." He managed.

"Don't worry about it. It's okay."

He couched and gagged some more, but it seemed he had emptied out his stomach and all he did was dry heave. "Don't you have something to cure this?"

I smiled sadly. "No, I'm sorry, just aspirin to help you feel a little better. But the most important things is for your body to get rid of it. Then it'll get better soon."

Heero remained hunched over the toilet for many more minutes and I simply quietly accompanied him, stroking his back and sometimes running a hand through his hair, on his forehead there was a cold sweat.

"Done?" I asked after a while, no judgment passed.

"I think so." He muttered and sat back on his calves. He hooked his hand under the hem of his night shirt and reached it up to wipe his mouth as I flushed the toilet.

I rose to my feet and reached down to hoist him up. He felt like a dead weight, his limbs were completely limp. I hooked my arm under his knees and lifted him off the floor, carrying him back to the bedroom and gently sitting him back down on his bed. I helped him change into a clean shirt, being reminded of the days just after the mission that had gone horribly wrong. I also fetched him a lukewarm, wet cloth to clean his face. Seeing his pale complexion and tired eyes, brought aching sympathy to my heart. I went back to get him a clean, cold cloth and draped it on his neck and then left for the kitchen to get him a glass of water and a some aspirin.

I watched him struggle trying to swallow the water with the pills. "It'll be okay..." I spoke soothingly. I brushed his bangs out of his face and stroked his cheek, looking into his unveiled, tired eyes, heavily lidded. "Where you in the bathroom long before I heard you?"

"No." He said with a voice hoarse from gagging. "I didn't mean to wake you. I didn't want to wake you."

I smiled at him to let him know I blamed him for nothing. "Don't be silly. When you're sick I don't want to lay in bed and do nothing. I want to help."

Heero grimaced and looked down at his lap. "But it was my own fault. It's not your problem. You shouldn't have to deal with it."

I kneeled down on the carpeted floor before him to make him look at me again. "It is actually. Looking out for each other is part of a relationship. A normal relationship."

"Yeah?" He sounded hopeful.

My smile brightened. "Yeah. And getting wasted and vomiting your guts out into the toilet is pretty normal too for a teenager. So long as you don't make a habit of it."

"I won't."

"Good." I pushed him down on the bed and draped the thin sheets over his body. "Try to get some sleep."

"Same to you." He muttered, his eyes already closed, his body weak and relaxed.

I walked around to my side of our twin beds and let myself drop down on the mattress heavily. I glanced at my clock and without even realizing it, I had been up and about taking care of Heero for little over an hour and my chances of recuperating before morning were increasingly slim. Yet my concern did not lie with myself, they lay with Heero. In the dim light of the lamp that was precariously balanced on top of my head board, I stared at him intently. He lay on his back, with his arms at his sides, his mouth was open as he breathed, it seemed labored and it sounded hoarse. Sometimes it looked like he was gasping for air. I scooted closer to the crevasse that separated our beds, calling out his name softly.

Heero blinked his eyes open and slowly directed them at me.

"Are you okay? Do you think you're going to be sick again?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head ever so slightly. "I just don't feel good."

I sighed. "Yeah... I told you you were going to regret it."

Heero frowned, his eyes remained closed. "I'm not sure I regret it. The alcohol was nice for a while..."

I chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, I'm sure it was..." I didn't say anything else, mostly because I simply didn't know what to say. In a way I didn't think it to be abnormal for a guy Heero's age to be experimenting with alcohol, quite the contrary, still, for some reason, I didn't think I should encourage the behavior. "Go back to sleep." I told him, flicking off the light and I reached out for him in the dark, my hand landing on his torso, somewhere low on his ribcage.

He covered my hand with his own and I briefly feared he would remove my hand, instead, he relocated our hands to his chest, right over his heart and I could feel it beat.

I felt like he was trying to tell me something, but I wasn't sure what. "Is something wrong?" I asked, absorbing the heat of his skin through the palm of my hand and feeling the thuds of his strong heart through the tips of my fingers.

"No." He said, with a serenity to his voice. He kept my hand to his chest. Our breathing and the beating of our hearts aligned. We were both enveloped with an overwhelming sense of calm and I felt like I was dreaming, even though I was still staring at Heero's form in the dark. I watched him fall asleep, his body losing it's tension, his heart rate slowing down. I kept my hand to his chest, enjoying the feel of the steady thud that vibrated through his torso. The rhythm eventually lulled me to sleep.

I loved being so close to him as we slept.

After an interrupted night like that, the alarm sounded way too harsh, way too obnoxious and most importantly: way too early. I hit "snooze" a couple of times, my arm working with a mind of it's own because I don't believe I ever fully regained consciousness till someone shook me lightly but urgently. I cracked one eye open to peer at the intruder of my peaceful realm of sleep which was no more. His face carried apologetic features and the expression made me lose the sharp edge of my morning temper.

"Duo?" His voice was so steady and deep and carried through the air like a drum from heaven.

"Hm?" The tone of my own voice was much more mundane, riddled with an earthly tiredness.

"Duo, it's five past eight."

Electricity arced through my body, stiffening my limbs. When I overcame the initial shock, I jumped up, exclaiming: "Five past eight? !" There was no time for a shower, or even for clean underwear. I jumped in a pair of jeans that had been left on the carpeted floor last Friday, it was due for laundry but I had no time to be bothered. "Shit shit shit..." I rambled as my fingers blindly searched the closet space for a T-shirt. I pulled it over my head and groaned as I pulled my disheveled braid out. But there was no time. However, I couldn't in good conscious leave the house without brushing my teeth. Morning breath is a killer. With my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth and toothpaste foam dribbling down my chin, I realized Heero was probably still painfully hung-over, so I hopped back to the bedroom as I put on one sock and asked him with my mouth full: "Will you be okay?"

"I feel better." His eyes were squinted against the light, he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair looked more messy than ever. He obviously wasn't better.

"Sure?" I grumbled when a glob of toothpaste hit the floor.

"I'll be fine."

"I could stay here."

"That's not necessary."

Even though Heero was my priority, I was glad he did not require my presence, nor seemed to need it. I was never truly excited about going to school, but that Monday, curiosity and protectiveness drove me. I wondered if Sookie and Aston would be proven right and if they were, I wanted to be there for them, protect them if necessary and show whichever bully to rear it's ugly head, just how powerful a "fag" can be. I was ashamed to admit, that a part of me actually looked forward to the prospect of kicking someone's ass. I don't suppose that was very normal of me. Or maybe the contrary...

Before I left, with my shoestrings untied and plain, dry bread for lunch, I advised him to take a few more aspirin, drink plenty of water and rest and reminded him that he didn't need to go to Nettle if he wasn't up for it. In his eyes I saw a flicker of someone who would gladly accept the excuse to escape that responsibility, but I knew he wouldn't. The Perfect Soldier doesn't run from responsibility. In spite of the time pressure, I rushed back to plant a brief kiss on his stunned lips and then I was out the door, running.

My route to school took me past the school building of our rivals, of a prestigious private school with a limited amount of students, yet the building could swallow ours. When I hastily passed their cast iron front gate, I heard deep male voices call after me: "Yeah, you'd better run! Fucking loser!" and the last thing I heard was a roar of laughter. They must have been at the game Friday and saw me there. I always scoffed at Heero when he objected to my braid - claiming it to be too memorable, too conspicuous - but I guess he was right.

My feet carried me unexpectedly fast and even though I should have been late, time must have paused in bemusement at my stumbling antics and allowed me to catch up, for I sprinted through the front gates of the yard just as the bell rang and I followed the droning crowd inside. Squirming between the many bodies that all had to squeeze through the double doors of the building, I noticed sullen looks and slumped shoulders, defeated souls marching inside like to their execution. Both familiar and unfamiliar faces became similar by the cynicism and disappointment that they shared in their eyes.

The halls of the school were barren, no longer did the colorful claims to victory decorate the walls.

I broke away from the marching dead, rolling my eyes at them. It's just a damn game, I thought to myself, stricken by the fact that this affected them like war. In the moment I found myself resenting them, even though in turn Heero would condemn me for allowing such a useless emotion. I pushed past the last of them and made my way for the classroom. The teacher was a devout fan of the school's basketball team, I avoided eye-contact to avoid conversation and slipped into my seat, conveniently located in the back. From behind my little desk with proclamations of love scratched into it - for girls, boys and national football teams - I watched morose souls gather. And as the teacher began with soft-spoken words like he was addressing a crowd at a wake, I noticed one chair remained empty: Aston's.

As the philosophy class was shamelessly abused to discuss the tragedy that had transpired the previous Friday evening, I zoned out. Living between war and gunfire and violence had taught me at least one useful lesson in life: how to successfully block out uninteresting noise. My ears were trained for - and only responded to - the ring of the bell fifty minutes later as class ended. But the next class also could not keep my attention. My mind tried to divide itself between worrying about a variety of things, only to end with an incoherent mess; a string of names, places, events and feelings, the majority of which evolving around Heero, but a recurring topic was Aston and Hunter and part of the basketball team, all noticeably absent. In the way that you'd be sorely attuned to the absence of something inanimate yet primary in your life, like chairs missing from the kitchen table; pillows missing from the bed; spoons missing from the cutlery. It was obvious, increasingly so as the day progressed, but no one commented.

During every break I wondered aloud about Aston's and Hunter's absence in the presence of Sookie and even though she was one of the few to have noticed - or at least to have acknowledged her awareness - she did not seem disconcerted, unlike me. She noted, rationally, that they probably agreed to skip school to let the brunt of the force of mass disappointment pass. I didn't share her certainty. Hunter I believed to be able to willingly quit school, much like the other missing basketball players. Aston, as much as his life and demeanor has changed recently, would not. He was in the honors program, he had perfect attendance record and was tendering several offers of full-ride scholarships to prestigious universities nationwide. Moreover, he was a perfectionist geek who prided his school work above everything else.

I told Sookie I was worried, she retorted playfully that I was merely redirecting my concerns from one source to another because the primary source wasn't very susceptible to my feelings. Which led our conversation to a mixture of her extracurricular psychology class by the curious miss Colt and my personal obsession with Heero. Realizing I was being shrunk by someone who isn't even a shrink, I cut lunch short and leisurely trotted to the next classroom, occupied with my own thoughts as my fingers played with lint deep inside my pockets.

I wasn't the only one to arrive ahead of schedule.

Rounding a corner from the opposite end of the corridor were three key players that I had found missing during the day. Danny, Eduardo and a tall guy with shaven head, first string and one reserve player respectively for the basketball team. In spite of their humongous failure right before the weekend, they walked with a victorious bounce in their steps, laughing amongst themselves. I hadn't expected to see them in such good spirit, especially because - whatever they might claim - they were partially to blame for the devastating loss against their arch enemies and the shame the whole school suffered as a result of it at the hand of the preppy private school students.

Apparently not at all laden with the consequences, Danny waved at me after being nudged by the one guy who nodded his clean shaven head towards me. Their gaits only seemed to become more arrogant.

"Duo." He said when the distance between us had closed to about five feet.

"Danny." I nodded towards the other two in greeting. "Good to see you guys aren't as stricken with the defeat as many others are." I commented lightly, though I definitely had my guard up, being alone with them in one of the more secluded wings of the building.

"Well, we just had a very productive meeting and I think it is pretty safe to say there will never be a repeat of last Friday night." Danny responded smugly.

"Oh. That's good. Was Hunter at this meeting?"

The three of them snickered at my question and made brief eye-contact with each other like they were sharing an inside joke.

"I hadn't seen him all day so..."

"Hunter is a coward, he staid home today. But his presence wasn't really needed at this meeting. As three senior members of the basketball team, we decided it's best for Hunter to leave the team."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "He is the star player and not to mention team captain."

Danny seemed irritated and bit back: "The school's basketball team is not a dictatorship, it's a democracy. It was his vote against ours." The others nodded congruently. "Even if he had been there, he would have been greatly outnumbered. It would have only embarrassed him. We sent him an email." Danny chuckled.

I squinted my eyes at them, there was no suppressing my disdain and disgust. "He was offered a scholarship! Not only are you hurting your own future as a successful basketball team, but you're also hurting his future. All of you are to blame for what happened Friday, you hardly practiced. You got conceited."

It was a classic case of saved by the bell. It rang at a deafening volume and with a final smirk the threesome, not at all moved by my words, stepped past me and walked away.

Assholes, I thought to myself. It explained why Hunter hadn't shown up for school, not only did he suffer the embarrassment of losing the game, but also of being kicked off the team, with severe consequences to bear. Perhaps Aston had chosen to stay home as well, to support him. In a way I found that to be quite romantic, yet the whole situation still left me with a sick feeling in my gut, especially after being called out by those guys from the other school. I knew Aston passed that private school on the way here as well, I wondered if maybe something had happened.

The bell rang a final time at four pm and I dragged my feet, following the crowd through the hallway. They were all eager to go home and end this awkward day. I was in no such hurry. Heero's appointment had been rescheduled to later in the afternoon and I knew he wouldn't be home for another hour. I used the rare opportunity to venture into the library, surviving the menacing stares of the volunteer librarian as I passed her desk - barely. I downloaded book copies from the computers for my history project, due before summer break. I strongly disliked the assignment, the subject was pre- and post-colonial wars with an emphasis on the difference in politics and strategies. I knew I would ace it, that wasn't the point. The point was that it was confrontational, like holding a hand mirror to your face and focusing all your attention on the ugliness; the imperfections. It was hard, even though it was - apparently - history.

Funny how some things never feel like they will ever be in the past when they concern you. And then you wake up one morning and you realize you are the only one still carrying it with you in the present and to everyone else it's "ancient history", "bygones be bygones", "water under the bridge".

A sign on the door to my history classroom reads in medieval font: "Here, history is being rewritten". It was supposedly a comic pun reflecting the fact that the teacher prefers to dictate the material to his students and the subject matter, but to me it tasted bitter. I was one of few people at this school painfully aware that history cannot be changed, it is despairingly unmovable, like a heavy bookcase of history books blocking the sole fire exit.

Feeling raw and sore inside I left the library, gazing down at the carpet as I passed the librarian once more. In spite of never having met him, she was very skilled at the Heero-glare-o-death.

In the short time it had taken me to download the books, the whole school had emptied, from students to teachers to janitors and other staff. The lights were switched off, leaving the windowless hallways dark.

I reached the main hall and through the glass of the double front doors I saw the threesome from before at the front gate, with smoldering cigarettes limp between their lips that bounced up and down as they talked and laughed. I decided to take a detour, use the back door of the building that opened up to the sport fields. The gate by the outdoor basketball court would be locked, it was only to be used in case of emergencies, but it was low enough for me to scale with ease and without ripping my clothes on the barbed wire. I doubled back through the building, disappearing once more in the dark hallways. It would be a mistake to assume I am afraid of them. I wasn't. I was afraid of myself, of what would happen, of what I would do, should they push me into a corner that wasn't to my liking. I could harm people with an ease that sometimes frightened me, during war, as a rebellious soldier, you can get away with it, registered civilians do not enjoy the same leniency.

I passed the entries to the locker rooms, going further back into a dusty hallway that led to an emergency door to the fields. The hallway was lined with locked doors, a selection of small rooms used to store the sports equipment that was used during when unpredictable weather conditions forced the coach to take his students inside. I just walked by the final closet door to press down on the lever to open the emergency exit, when I heard loud banging coming from the other side of the nearest closet door. I froze, confused for a moment, my ears trained, waiting for the sound to return. There was only a slight pause when the banging returned, sounding even more desperate. Then there was a muffled voice:

"Help! Is anyone out there?"

Even through the door I recognized the voice. I dropped my bag to the floor and instincts had me grabbing at the handle, even though it was obviously locked. "Aston?" I called, trying to force the lock in vain.

"Duo?" He responded with apparent relief. "Duo get me out of here! Go get the coach, he has the key."

I shook my head, knowing the building was long abandoned. "Step back!"

"What?"

"Step away from the door!"

"O-okay!"

I took a few steps back myself. The hallway was very narrow, so I couldn't get much distance for a running start, but I had faith it would be enough. "Are you clear?"

"Yeah!"

I rolled my neck and shrugged my shoulder; a brief warm-up. With my adrenaline pumping I sped forward, pushing away from the wall and with great force I crashed my shoulder against the door, just above the lock. Like any door in the past had, it opened. It swung round on it's hinges and hit a mat leaning upright against the wall. The room was completely dark, there was no window. "Aston?" He didn't answer me, instead, he rushed towards me out of nowhere and wrapped his arms tightly around my neck. I embraced him and noticed his body shaking with sobs and he was hyperventilating in the juncture between my neck and sore shoulder.

"It's okay, it's okay." I said, rubbing his back. "Let's get you some fresh air." I guided him out of the small, claustrophobic room and opened the emergency exit. I sat him down on the concrete steps, kneeling in front of him. His bangs covered his face, tears fell out of nowhere and landed in his dusty lap. "Just breathe." I tried to reassure him. "You're okay." I had to calm myself down as well, my body was converting the adrenaline into pure rage. I ran my hands through his hair, brushing out some of the dust.

Aston slowly started to breathe normally and his hands stopped shaking.

When I felt he was ready to speak, I asked, albeit somewhat redundantly: "Who locked you in there?"

"Danny," he blurted, taking in another shaky breath, "and Eduardo... and Parker."

The troublesome threesome, I noted with discontent, Parker must be the bald guy. "How long have you been in there?"

"All day!" He cried, without looking up at me. "They were waiting for me at the bike shelter when I arrived at school early."

Feeling increasingly protective and angry, I continued: "Did they do something else? Did they hurt you?"

"They broke my phone..." He mumbled.

"They didn't hurt you?"

Aston finally looked up at me and the sight of his face startled me. His lips were smeared red, I realized it was poorly applied lipstick, blush tinted his cheeks a bright pink, but bruises shown through and he had dark purple and pink circles of eye shadow around his eyes. Forcefully applied mascara had gotten into his eyes making them red and irritated. With a sickening feeling in my stomach I noticed trails of blood on either side of his neck. I followed the trail op to his reddened ears and saw that they were pierced crudely and torn.

"They did it with big nails that they found lying around." He said as he caught me studying his earlobes in horror.

I balled my hands into tight, white-knuckled fists. My whole body started shaking with anger. "Come on." I rose to my feet and helped him get up from the steps.

"Where are we going?"

I wrapped one of his arms around my neck and supported him with one of my arms around his waist. He was weakened after a day of not eating and drinking, whilst banging on the door and screaming his lungs out to no avail. "I'm taking you to the library. Everyone else has already left." I said, guiding him through the shadowy hallways.

"Won't you stay with me? Please stay with me?" He pleaded pitifully.

"I'm sorry Aston, I can't," I apologized, "there's something I have to do." I explained darkly.

"I don't want you to get into trouble."

"Don't worry about it." I pushed through the swinging doors to the library and for the first time to my knowledge, the stern and warning look melted away from the librarian's face and she approached us with explicit concern that suited her elderly features. She rolled her desk chair towards us, to meet us halfway and I sat Aston down in it.

"What in the name of God happened?" She asked as she started to mother over Aston as I had hoped.

"Will you please call his parents and help him rinse his eyes out?"

"Sure, of course." She snapped her head back up to me when I started to leave. "Where are you going?"

"I have to take care of something." I said and I did not respond to her objections nor Astons concerned stare. His sad, red eyes only fuelled the fire of my rage more and made me even more determined. What came over me was an old sense of who I was. A character that believed head-on confrontation could solve any problem and that vengeance was justified no matter what the situation or context. With that war mentality I stormed through the school into the yard. I felt like a tank, unstoppable, the flagstones cracking under my weight. I don't think I passed through the doors with intentions more severe than intimidating them, but as soon as I spotted them and they spotted me, I knew blood would be shed but I did not stop myself.

"What's with the face, Duo?" Danny challenged as I approached them.

Within seconds I was face to face with him. I could feel his breath on my complexion. It made me feel sick. His gaze was confidant, cocky. I knew he would regret it.

At heart I was still a teenager, no matter how intensely the attempt had been to suppress that, so the first thing I did was push him, hard. To keep his balance he had to take several steps back, but he only chuckled arrogantly, lulled into a false sense of security by a "safety in numbers" mentality that -unbeknownst to him - did not apply in this situation.

"What the fuck man? Do you have a problem with me?" He jested, casting sideway glances at his back up.

"You retarded ass-fucks." I seethed.

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you?" He spat.

"Ignorant little bitches like you aren't my type." I stared at him and made a point to briefly make eye-contact with his friends as well. Baldie was already starting to crack.

Danny snorted. "Then what would you call that little boy toy of yours that you brought to Aiden's party?"

I pushed him again, even harder this time, Eduardo had to reach out for him and prevent him from falling backwards. "You have no idea what kind of buttons you are pressing." I warned him.

This time the asshole laughed, rolling his head back in the process. "Oh please! What do you want? Do you really think we are afraid of you... faggot?" Fingering the detonation switch.

I didn't respond, because my next countermove would have been fists rather than words.

"We had to make sure that little fairy friend of yours and his butt-buddy didn't embarrass us like that again. None of you people should embarrass us again."

I rolled my eyes. "Us people? You have no fucking clue what you're saying! There is no "us people", there is only the smartest guy in school, the best high school shooting guard in the state and the guy who is going to kick your scrawny ass."

Danny pointed a vibrating finger at me. "You'd better stop thinking about my ass, Maxwell."

I smirked at having found a blistering sore spot for him. "Well, that puts me in a difficult position, because all I think of you, is an inbred little asshole who's stuck in evolution a few stages behind the rest of us. Us people."

That is when the first blow landed. Danny had balled his fist and swung it at my cheek. I could have easily ducked, he had a clear tell and not the most swift right hook, but I was gentlemen so I let him have the first punch. Mere milliseconds after he had the pleasure of hitting me, before he could even enjoy it, I swung my arm round and hit him in the face hard enough to make him groan and fall to the groan. I heard something crack, his nose, his eye socket, maybe both.

The bald guy came behind me and wrapped his arms around my neck in a halfhearted choke-hold as Eduardo took advantage of the moment to throw a few punches at my gut. Holding onto my strangler's arms I kicked up one leg and hit Eduardo square in the chest with my boot, which had him gasping for air long enough to take care of Parker. I firmed my grip on one of his arms, pulling it away from my neck and twisting it around, immediately subduing him. He winced and whimpered, it was very painful to have your wrist contorted like that. I knew because it was a position I had been in with Heero, in the sparring ring at our gym. As Heero had done with me, I forcefully maneuvered him around and threw him over my shoulder. He took the crash to the concrete well, quickly getting back to his feet, but only to flee cowardly.

"Look at the straight man running like a girl!" I pointed out to Danny who had risen to face me once more.

"Fuck you!" He used his sleeve to wipe away the blood pouring from his nostrils. He attacked me again but I thwarted his attempt easily, hitting him in the face again and pushing him back. He landed on his ass again.

When Eduardo got up and thundered towards me I used his own momentum against him and threw him on top of Danny. Frustrated at how long it took for them to get up again, I hoisted Eduardo up by his jacket and kneed him in the gut before pushing him away again, watching him stumble and fall to the ground. I grabbed a handful of Danny's hair and pulled him into a sitting position, kneeling over him.

"You got lucky..." He mumbled. "I could have easily beaten you."

I shook my head. "No. You got lucky... I could have easily killed you."

I sighed, staring into his frightened eyes did not give me the satisfaction and sense of justice that I had anticipated. Instead, I felt like I had lost control over myself and from who I wanted to be, slipped back into who I used to be. The twisted person I desired to be no more. And I worried, I worried that the God of Death within me was as out of bounds and uncontrollable as Heero's Perfect Soldier and that I could be overridden by him. I knew in that moment, holding Danny up by his hair, that I had two choices, one of them would empower Death, the other one would silence him. It seemed so straightforward to gravitate to the latter, but this was not the case.

I could kill him. I mean, not just physically, but I could kill him. I could kill him without so much as a blip on my morality radar. Danny is scum, ignorant, self centered scum. I've killed lesser scum. Men have died at my hands for lesser faults - some could even only be blamed for blind obedience. I could watch Death do whatever he feels needs to be done.

But I realized that if I let him, I'd be as much of a loser as Danny, to let some ugly side of me become me. And what good would that do for Heero?

I let Danny go. Not because he squirmed and screamed, but because I realized Heero was at home, waiting for me. He needed me and I needed him.

The boy groaned as he fell back to the ground and then he curled up, expecting me to kick him. Instead I stepped over his shrunken frame and walked away.

I started a light jog, not necessarily running away from something, as much as running towards something. Getting short of breath I slowed my pace just as I rounded the final corner. The school and everything that had happened there was removed from me in space and time, but the possible consequences loomed. I couldn't outrun those.

I saw a black sedan parked at the curb near the front door of our building, with Preventer license plates. I spent the last of my breath to race to the door, swiping my card through the reader to get it open. Stepping into the small, brown stone lobby I felt a sense of relief when I saw Heero, standing in front of the elevator doors. His eyes found me in the reflection of the stainless steel and he turned to face me.

I was overwhelmed with a sudden urge to kiss him and I gladly gave into it. "Hey." I breathed after parting our lips.

His analytical eyes stared into me. "What's wrong?"

I blinked. "What do you mean? Nothing is wrong."

He cocked his head to the side slightly and narrowed his eyes. He studied my face briefly and then concluded: "Well, you should have been home over an hour ago, you are perspiring profusely and you got red when I asked you what's wrong. My interpersonal communication skills are not of the highest quality but even I manage to see something is definitely wrong."

My eyebrows drew up. Through my perplexity I managed to quip: "Are you always this talkative, or only when you catch me in a lie?"

"This I believe to be an attempt to change the subject." He noted and he seemed proud of himself, which was endearing.

"Not." I bantered childishly, becoming distracted by the glint in his eyes that seemed to light up his whole face.

We were interrupted by the ding of the elevator as it reached the ground floor. Upon the doors opening, we stepped inside and pushed the appropriate button. By the time we passed the first floor, Heero warned:

"Duo."

The way he said my name crumbled my secrecy. Though I never had the intention of keeping this from him, I dreaded telling him. I was ashamed of myself. "Okay, okay... I... I did something bad. I mean, it was the right thing to do, I think, but it was bad."

Heero is a genius, yet I managed to confuse him; his brows furrowed. "I don't understand."

I chuckled. "That's okay. I wasn't making much sense anyway."

"But I was doing so well." He pouted. He actually pouted, however slight.

To reward him for how well attuned he was to conversational markers earlier, I told him what I dreaded him to know, because Heero is another mirror, a distorted mirror but yet in it's distortions I saw the truth most clearly: the God of Death. I wasn't afraid that he would judge me. I was afraid that he wouldn't. That he wouldn't see that what I did was wrong and violent. "You remember Aston, right? From that party?"

Heero nodded.

We walked to the front door of our apartment whilst I kept talking. "Three stupid jocks at school harassed him and locked him in a closet all day. When I found him... I got so angry. I felt like I couldn't control myself."

"What did you do?" Heero asked, surprisingly inquisitive. I sat down on the couch and Heero made a brief detour to the kitchen to get a spoon and the jar of peanut butter, his favored post-therapy comfort food, which I allowed him. When he joined me on the couch, I continued.

"I kicked the shit out of them. I mean, I didn't really exert myself, but these are just stupid kids, they had no idea how to defend themselves. I thought I would feel better afterwards, vindicated, but seeing them, weak and defeated, just made me angry with myself... I should have handled it differently, but that didn't even occur to me, I just stormed toward them and started provoking them, making him throw the first punch so I could throw the last." I sighed. "I guess I thought that by now, I'd be different, I'd think twice before going to that place. But seeing Aston made something click and I didn't remember any of my good intentions, to stop being like that, all I remembered was my training, how to overpower guys bigger and taller than me." I stopped and looked at Heero, after studying the carpet. His face was blank, but in his eyes there was a struggle. I had unwittingly put him in an uncomfortable position, subconsciously asking for advice or kind and reassuring words, neither of which he was capable of giving as of yet.

There was a silence between us for a long time and I was about to regret sharing the fight and my feelings with him so candidly, when his pleasantly deep voice suddenly resounded. "Sounds like you had a bad day."

I chuckled bitterly. "Yeah."

Heero didn't say anything, he probably didn't know what to say. He dipped the spoon in the peanut butter, but instead of bringing it to his own mouth, he held it out to me. No words necessary.

I smiled. "Thanks buddy." I let him hold the spoon as I licked the side facing me clean. When I was done I winked at him, causing him some embarrassment, but also provoking a tiny curl of the lips.

Supposedly to distract us both from the sexual connotation of my gesture, he asked: "Will you be expelled?"

"I don't know. Probably." I let the words sink in.

Heero was silent for a little while and later wondered with that slight frown of his if I would mind.

I stared at him. Perplexed both at the fact that he asked and the fact that I didn't know the answer. I figured I should know, I figured I should have had an adamant "yes" prepared, but I didn't and I admitted that truth to him, my voice somewhat wistful. "I don't know."

"But probably?" He countered, it seemed he, too, was expecting a different response to come forth from me.

I frowned, deeply. "No." I ran a hand through my hair, unnerved by my own lack of understanding. "Maybe even the contrary... I... I honestly don't know... but I guess that in itself is an answer. I mean, if it would bother me, I would know, wouldn't I?"

Heero shrugged, he had no expertise, thus no insightful comment, on the matter and wisely kept his mouth shut to prevent himself embarrassment. Yet he seemed to search. His eyes darting left to right even though the search was focused inwards. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but he second guessed himself and in the end no words passed his lips, his frown only increased.

"What?" I asked curiously, readjusting my positioning on the couch to properly face him, watching the struggle for words in his expression, noting every slight shift of muscles as he bit his lip, narrowed his eyes and even wrinkled his nose. Had I grown so accustomed to reading his minute facial expressions that they appeared more exaggerated to me than they were, without me realizing it, or had Heero become more expressive over the course of time, without either of us realizing it?

"I know what you mean." This admission seemed to startle him even more so than me.

"Yeah?" I gently ventured.

He nodded, but seemed reluctant to elaborate. I allowed him as much time as he needed to find words and form sentences with them. My patience paid off, as did his effort. "When you asked me when Nettle would clear me for work..." his sentence trailed off, discouraging me, but he found the confidence to continue. "I started thinking. I don't think I want to be an active agent any more."

I've heard many euphemisms in my life - "it's just going to sting a little, boy", "it's only a shallow cut", "we're just slightly outnumbered" - but I experienced a true textbook example when Heero's words left me stunned into silence. Stunned was not the word. Silence was not the word. English language had yet to invent words that approximated the state I found myself in.

He ripped me back into reality with his next words. "But I feel I should be."

I sighed. He was correct. He did know what I meant. I experienced the same thing he was. I didn't think I'd even want to return to school after what had transpired, I couldn't imagine myself being around people like that, people with such insignificant thoughts completely blown out of proportion by the collective illusion that each individual student was the center of the universe. Yet I felt like I should be in school, simply because people my age are and I'm smart enough to graduate. Just like Heero felt he should be an agent, just because he was once a soldier and he was the best. A sense of obligation to yourself and strangely, to others as well.

I smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, but I don't think it was sad either, just a confused appreciation. "We are not so different, you and I." I mused aloud. My smile turned honest as Heero unconsciously brought the spoon to his mouth, one side still lathered with peanut butter. "So does the peanut butter mean you had a bad day too?"

He shrugged, slowly licking the rest of the spoon clean. What that did to me was unspeakable.

"Are you still hung over?" I didn't mean to say that with a smirk, but I suddenly found myself amused.

"No." Simple as that.

"How was therapy?"

"Fine." He said "fine", but it sounded too much like "annoying" to be anything but and to be anything but intentional, so I chuckled.

"Do you want to talk?" It had become routine to share stories after his therapy sessions, but from the tired look in his eyes I knew even before I posed the question, that I would be shot down.

"Didn't we just do that?"

"I guess."

We let silence come between us again. To ignore the volume of my own unwelcome thoughts I focused on the sounds of raindrops hitting the large bay window, as the forecasted rainstorm passed over, darkening the skies. The rain grew louder and louder, the water was beating against the windowpane and the walls. But even as the storm reached it's peak and even flashed a few sparks of thunder, I could still hear myself asking in my head: "What does this all mean? Where is this taking us?" Heero just admitted he didn't really want to be an agent, I just realized I didn't really want to be a student, yet I had the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach that these facts wouldn't change anything. Heero preached of acting on emotions, but all his life he has seemed to be the mere messenger, in the end he'd do as his training dictates. And when have I ever taken control of my life with positive outcome?

It made me wonder grimly if anything we ever said or did had any meaning; moving in together; starting a relationship; confessing our love. Could words, actions and feelings ever truly coexists, or was that connection permanently severed in us? The scientists still holding the knives, even in death.

I snapped my head back at Heero when I heard him get off the couch, audible even above the beat of the rain. With a slight limp he returned the peanut butter and the spoon to the kitchen. I watched him as he stood at the sink, he wasn't washing the spoon, even with the rain I would have heard the water run, but for some reason he was just standing there. I noticed that his shoulders were slumped and I realized I had never seen him like this before.

The word "hopeless" came to mind.

With his back still facing me, he announced: "I'm going to lie down for a while. Maybe I am still hung over." And with that he promptly limped to the bedroom and he shut the door behind him.

I sat and the ouch and counted to ten, and then again, and then again, till I felt an appropriate amount of time had passed and then I followed him. I opened the door to the bedroom to find it completely dark. It took a few seconds, after closing the door behind me, for my eyes to adjust to the extremely low lighting, of sunlight which had had to struggle it's way through thick clouds and thick curtains. I saw the vague shape of our beds joined together and Heero lying on his side of it, on his stomach for a change, on top of his sheets, still wearing his jeans and button-up shirt. He wasn't sleeping. His body tensed up the moment the light had streamed in through the opened door.

I crawled over the footboard and settled on my bed, lying on my side, facing him, even though he faced away from me. I tore my lustful eyes away from the curve of his ass. "Please don't do this." I whispered.

"Don't do what?" His muffled voice sounded.

"This, pulling away from me."

"I'm just tired." He was quick to retort.

"Okay." I inched closer towards him, my body lying on the very edge of my mattress. "Then I'm just going to lie here with you for a little while."

Heero didn't say anything.

I boldly moved my hand to rest it on the small of his back. A long time passed and I realized neither one of us was going to fall asleep. I felt a tension between us, not necessarily a bad one, rather a tension of desire. I waited a little while longer, gauging his response, when I decided it wasn't negative - that he wasn't distancing himself from me - I finally crossed the line between my mattress and his and fully encircled his waist with my arm. My nose was buried in the dark pandemonium of his hair. He smelled so great, I thought, even though I knew it was just pheromones between us running wild after so many cold showers, on my part at least. My embrace wasn't meant to be about sex, but with our bodies pressed up against each other, sharing heat, it inevitably took that turn.

I kissed the back of his neck and let my hand wander up and down his spine and massage the muscles in his side. The tension suddenly flooded from his body, being replaced with a relaxed state, accompanied with a deep sigh. Taking it as an encouragement, I kept kissing his neck, sometimes playfully licking or nipping and with my hand I moved over his ass, lightly at first, then stronger, firmly caressing. When I grew curious for more, I turned him onto his side, his back flush against my chest. This allowed my lips to relocate it's ministrations to his ear but confronted with the burnt skin I focused my attention on the side of his neck and his jaw as my hand roamed over his torso.

Somewhere in the linear space of time I started to unbutton his shirt. The final button was undone and feeling his skin, with the ripple of muscle underneath, under my fingertips, caused me to shiver. My erection was obvious, he must have noticed with him pressed so tightly against me, but it didn't seem to bother him and I was curious if we shared this state, but I didn't want to go there after the last time, the memory of which I forcefully tried to erase from my mind.

I used my fingers to tease and stimulate his chest, eventually paying extra attention to his nipples, to which he responded sensitively. Feeling that it was all becoming a little bit too much for him, I slowed down.

I lightly dragged my fingers down his abdomen, lower and lower, with every intention to stop at the hem of his jeans before simply moving them back up again, but Heero wasn't aware of this and I felt him tense up and heard him make the smallest sound as the tips of my fingers were a mere inch away from the button of his jeans. "I'm sorry," I breathed heavily in his ear, dragging my hand back up to his chest, "I wasn't going to-"

"No." He gritted through his teeth. "I meant... I want..." He pushed his face into his pillow, deeply embarrassed.

He didn't need to explain, I understood what he meant. I didn't comment, I just brought my hand back down and cupped him through the rough material of his jeans. The reaction was instant, he arched his back, arching into me and his mouth opened in a - sadly - silent moan. Him shifting against me drove me insane. The friction was so good, something like that shouldn't be allowed to feel that good, but it did.

Curious fingers popped open the button to no objections from Heero, so they proceeded to gently lower the zipper. As I pushed my hand inside, I raised my head to look at Heero's closed eyes. I wondered if he was thinking of him again. I was. But I didn't let it stop me, I felt like it was something we had to push through. Strangely it seemed to bother me more than him, but then again, I wasn't distracted by a dexterous hand down the front of my pants, though him just writhing against me did an admirable job.

He made another tiny sound, but immediately buried his face in his pillow again. I was about to ask him if something was wrong, the rhythm of my hand faltering, when he strongly clamped his fingers around my wrist in an attempt to keep me going, rather than stopping me. I obliged happily. I expected him to come swiftly after that, but it seemed he was holding back, effortfully preventing himself. Realizing he was probably uncomfortable orgasming in someone else's presence, as it was obviously a first time for him, I tried to offer words of reassurance.

"It's okay." I whispered.

He groaned, not a groan of pleasure, but one of frustration.

I didn't want to end it like that, leaving him embarrassed and even more uncomfortable with future physical contact. I awkwardly maneuvered my other hand underneath his neck to turn his head to face me and I passionately kissed his lips. I pushed my hips against him, selfishly seeking some sort of release for myself, but thoughts kept me from achieving that. I was more focused on him and more determined on his completion.

Heero suddenly pulled away from my kiss, turning his head away, his mouth agape as he panted.

I could feel he was close, so as a final effort, I seductively whispered into his ear as best I could: "Please come."

And he did.

He buried his face in the pillow again and may have even bitten whatever mouthful of fabric he could get. However he did it, he didn't make a sound, not even the slightest gasp or quietest moan. I kept stroking him till I was certain he was done and then removed my hand, wiping it on the back of my jeans before wrapping my arm around him again.

His chest heaved heavily as he tried to regain his composure as quickly as he could and I waited patiently for him, my hand drawing feather light, random patterns on his chest and stomach. I breathed deeply through my nose, against the back of his neck, trying to calm myself. My body showed the obvious signs of arousal, but I wasn't in any mindset to do anything about it. Many minutes went by without either of us saying anything and when I noticed the room had gone completely dark, not even the slightest sunlight filtering through, I wondered if those minutes had been hours.

The first thing he said, wasn't what I expected.

"I made a mess." He sounded sincerely concerned and deeply apologetic.

I sighed, my breath running past his skin, creating goose bumps. "Don't worry about it. We'll change the sheets later."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, it's fine." I held onto him a little tighter liking how when I hold him close like that, I could feel his heartbeat vibrating through me and the heat of his body driving away even the most distant memory of cold. But my mouth went dry right before I couldn't stop myself from asking: "Did you think of him?"

He took a few moments to gather his thoughts. "No."

It was indescribably relieving to hear that. "Good." Another understatement.

"You did."

I noted how it wasn't a question, it was a statement. Maybe I should have denied it, maybe if I could have been convincing enough, it would have been better. But if even Heero could pick up on it, in the throws of physical pleasure, it had to have been pretty blatant and denying it would only add an even more obvious lie to my repertoire. "Yes."

"Why?"

"I worried about how you were feeling, if you were thinking about him." I whispered in the burnt shell of his left ear.

He took a deep breath, preparing to say something, but then released it in a long sigh. he seemed to think it through a little while longer, hesitating a few times more, aborting at the last second. I didn't pry, I had the feeling that it was only a matter of time, for him to find the words, to tell me whatever he wanted to say. And I was right. His voice was a little more monotonous and analytical than I would have preferred, but his words were like a warm caress.

"I wasn't thinking about him... Because that time and this time were completely different. That time, all I could think was that I wanted him to stop. Now, all I could think was that I wanted you to continue."

I took hold of his chin and tilted his head back for a deep and grateful kiss.

We parted too quickly for my liking, Heero turned his head away from me again. I tried to relax, with him warmly in my arms, but the tension transferred from his body to my own and it became difficult to focus on peaceful thoughts. Every breath he took felt panicked and constricted, it felt like in my arms he was gasping for breath. It didn't take long for him to start shifting self-consciously in my embrace and not long after that for him to abruptly pull himself free and rise to his feet. He stood at the bedside, his back turned towards me. With my eyes adjusted to the scarcity of light, I could see his sharp elbows move as his fingers zipped and buttoned up his jeans.

"What's wrong?" I asked and I reached out and hooked one finger into the belt loop at the small of his back.

"Nothing." Heero lied and he easily stepped away from my limp hold on him. A little further away from me he buttoned up his shirt.

"Heero..."

"Please." He begged with firm voice, finally looking at me even though much of his eyes were shadowed under frowning brows. He leaned forward and gripped his sheets tightly.

Unsure, I rolled back onto my own bed and watched him rip the sheets away and bundle them up in his arms. I followed him to the little laundry room at the end of the hallway, the bright light nearly burning my eyes. "Heero." I called him, but he stormed ahead of me. I watched him stuff the sheets into the laundry bin like he was trying to magically expel them from our world. Like the opening of the hamper was a gateway to a completely separate universe which we could conveniently use to get rid of our filthy sheets and confusing feelings. There was a desperation in his movements that frightened me. I took hold of his arm just as he slammed the lid closed. "Heero." I said firmly and a startled cobalt blue gaze settled on my serious face. "You don't have to be embarrassed." I tried and even offered him a smile. "I liked it too." I added with a wink.

He didn't say anything, his eyes just glazed over with a stubborn resilience.

"Will you please just tell me what's wrong?"

"I said nothing is wrong." For some reason he clearly became frustrated with me. Perhaps I was prying, but I felt like I deserved, as much as needed, to know.

"Oh, so you're just storming through the house and glaring at me for nothing?"

"It just isn't normal, is it?" He suddenly wondered with raised voice, his eyes penetrating mine.

"Heero, masturbating and coming and all that stuff is perfectly normal..."

"That's not what I mean." He shot back and he sounded even more irritated.

I lost my patience with him, something that doesn't often occur, but how was I supposed to know what he means when his face is blank and his eyes are just angry and otherwise unreadable? I may not be as dyslexic at reading him as many others are, but I'm far from graduating on an academic level. Sometimes the literature on his face was just too subtle for me to deduce the sub context; the layers within layers; the meaning between the words. It is as frustrating not to be understood as it is not to be able to understand, he should know this! So in my frustration I practically yelled at him: "Then tell me what you do mean!"

"These things I'm feeling are not normal! And every time I forget... like... like when... just now... I hope that they are gone forever but then they just keep coming back!"

"What things?"

"Things that make me wish I was dead inside, like I used to be!" His voice had a higher pitch than normal, he sounded so vulnerable. He looked up at me, fully clothed, but suddenly naked. His eyes searched for answers I didn't have.

I was shocked. I was hurt. I struggled for words for a long time. I had to regain my composure first, because if I opened my mouth too soon, I knew I wouldn't be able to speak, I would just cry. "First of all," I finally started, "you were never dead on the inside. Never. Second of all, I know that it must hurt, it must be confronting, talking with Nettle and with me and it might feel like there are only bad consequences to letting yourself feel. But I promise you, it'll get better and soon the good will be in balance with the bad and after that, the good will outweigh the bad."

"How do you know?" He challenged, the long silence that it had taken me rightfully left him with a fair amount of disbelief.

"I've been through it."

He seemed momentarily taken aback. "When did the good start outweighing the bad?"

I smiled sadly. "The moment I met you." That sounded so naive, so overly romantic, so sappy and cliché, but it was the truth.

He looked down, I had clearly made him feel guilty that meeting me hadn't accomplished the same change in him.

I lifted his head up by his chin. "You'll get there too. I'm not offended that it takes you a little while. I'm honored that you are trying so hard for me."

Heero didn't say anything, he cast his gaze down to his bare feet. But I could tell that he had little faith in his own capabilities.

I didn't know what else to do. The only other thing I could do, was hug him. So I did. I slid my hands from his shoulders around his waist and pulled him tightly against me. His body appeared still and in control, the flashes of the face I saw, was an impassive one, but with our chest pressed together I could feel his heart beating wildly, lively. I whispered "I love you" in his uncharred ear.

"I love you too." Heero muttered against my shoulder. And then later an unconvinced, but heart warming: "Thank you."

"You're welcome buddy. And until you get there, I am more than happy to help you forget."

And there we stood, in the tiny space of our laundry room, with big feelings between us.

I disengaged our hug and excitedly announced that I was up for some Thai food. Heero dryly reminded me, with a quick dart of his eyes to his wrist watch, that it was past midnight and I glibly reminded him of the wonderful world of twenty-four/seven service. Trying to lighten the mood - in fact, I felt quite light in my heart, in spite of everything - I practically skipped around the apartment, towards the phone in the kitchen to order food and while I waited for the dial tone, I told Heero to "slip into something more comfortable." He just quirked his eyebrow at me, not getting the reference and left to change. There were four missed calls, all from the same number - school - but I ignored them.

For that night, we left our feelings with the laundry. For that night, the hamper did serve as a gateway to an alternative universe that allowed us to forget. For that night we were travelers without extra baggage and we enjoyed in-flight movies the likes of Casablanca, My fair lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. Movies that would normally make me laugh, or feel uncomfortable, but those feelings were in my other suitcase.

Time went by swiftly, without either of us noticing. I popped in DVD after DVD and each time I sat back down on the couch, I sat down a little closer to Heero, so at the start we were sitting at opposite ends but by the third we were hip to hip and I had managed to subtly wrap my arm around his shoulder and somewhere halfway through Heero had leaned his head against me.

The first few movies seemed to have caught his attention like case studies, but when he realized these movies weren't reliable sources for the real world, he seemed to relax more.

Neither of us said anything, though I doubt either of us was as absorbed into the films as we might have appeared to be, till Heero raised his head off my shoulder a little and he wondered with a soft voice: "Is it getting light outside?"

My initial reaction had been: "Don't be silly" but then I realized that the credits which had just started to scroll were from the fourth movie and after a quick peer through the bay window, I had to agree with Heero. "I think you're right."

"You have to be at school in little over three hours." He noted, glancing down at his watch.

I shrugged. "I don't think so."

"No?"

"No." I turned to face him and smiled. "Let's go sleep."

Heero nodded, his eyes looked very tired. Even though as Gundam Pilots, we had gotten used to odd days and late hours, it's a rhythm you quickly lose track of. In peace time, you become attached to your eight hours of sleep every night and your warm shower every day and your hot dinner every evening.

I switched off the TV and the few lights - soon they wouldn't be necessary anyway - and shuffled after Heero to the bedroom. The rain that had lasted through the night had cooled the atmosphere and the chill it created was delicious, especially the feeling of crawling into your warm bed, leaving the cold behind. I didn't think much about it, but then I noticed Heero bending over in front of the closet, about to get out a new set of sheets. I smirked and for a moment, relinquished the warmth of my bed to crawl over to the footboard and hook four fingers into the elastic waistband of his sweatpants and pull him away from the closet. Sitting back on my calves on the edge of his side of the bed, I turned him around and placed my hands strongly only his hips. "Don't be silly." I told him, looking up at him. I kissed his stomach through the thin material of his T-shirt and then tugged him along - ignoring any half hearted objections he might have had - across his bed, into mine. With him close next to me under the sheets, the warmth was even more cozy and comfortable.

Sunlight fought to break through the thick fabric of our curtains, the room grew a little lighter, but my eyelids were drooping and behind them was a peaceful darkness I welcomed. I waited for Heero to close his eyes, till he couldn't keep them open any longer. Then I closed my eyes as well. With the sense of sight eliminated, I focused on the feel and scent, liking how the dipping of the mattress under our weight only seemed to bring us closer together, liking how the sheets seemed to purposefully caress my body with every slight move Heero made, loving how my pillowcase started to smell like him.

God he smelled so great...

Even with my eyes closed, I was reluctant to let myself succumb to sleep, even though both my mind and my body craved it. I knew that once we would wake up, our baggage would have caught up with us again, all of the memories best forgotten and feelings of pain and despair, that tainted us, scarred us and deformed us and held a mirror to our faces to show us our old eyes, scarred bodies and calloused hands; outward symptoms of inside damage.

I dreaded the return to reality once my twisted sub-consciousness would be done entertaining me, but I could not fight it off much longer. For a moment my body felt so heavy, like weighted down with stones and then I was slipping away, drowning and I couldn't swim back to the surface. And then I was completely weightless, like my body didn't even exist anymore.

After a moving day like that, a dream was inevitable. In this one, I was aware that I was dreaming and I found it to be very annoying that I was. I was lying in my bed, Heero's bed wasn't anywhere, it was only mine. When I planted my feet down on the carpet next to the bed, I stepped into water, about three inches deep. Heero's bed wasn't the only thing absent from the room; there was no closet and no door to the bathroom. So I walked through the layer of dark water, my footfalls creating ripples that ruined my crisp reflection in the surface of the water, towards the door to the living room. I opened it and instead of it leading out to the living room as it should, I found a vast expanse of space, there was nothing in sight except for a blurred horizon where the black water met grey skies. Standing several yards away from me was Heero, staring down at the ground, or rather: at his own reflection in the shallow water.

"Heero?" My voice was so loud in the emptiness, but it seemed like Heero didn't hear me, he didn't respond at least. "Heero." I tried again. When my call went unanswered a third time, I walked up to him, even though I knew he wasn't real, just a projection of my sub-consciousness. However, when I started closing in on him, he frantically gestured for me to stop, to stay were I was. He never looked up at me, he kept staring at his mirror image.

I chuckled sheepishly. "What?" Not taking him seriously, I took another step towards him.

His reaction was even more desperate, along with the hand gesture, he begged me: "Stop! Please! Don't come any closer!"

I stopped and looked down at my own feet. Only then did I realize that my steps were creating ripples that traveled across the entire surface of the water and as they reached him, they distorted his image. What I had yet to grasp was why this was so bad. I took another step and got the same, panicked reaction. His voice sounded like he was near tears and I wondered how my sub-consciousness could possibly know what Heero would sound like when he was about to cry. It appeared I had been endowed with more creativity than I formerly realized, for obviously I had never seen or heard Heero any where near tears. "What's the matter?" I asked this unrealistic version of my boyfriend.

"Just please don't come any closer! Please stay away!" He never tore his eyes away from the water. His voice, though fake and farfetched, was heartbreaking.

"Heero..." I walked up to him anyway, the ripples running across his reflection. His face was one of anguish and despair, he obviously didn't like what he was seeing. Even though I knew it wasn't real, seeing him like that still made my heart clench. Yet I was too curious about the reflective image that had him so upset, to stay away. When I had been at the door and the water was still, his reflection looked like a perfect mirror image of him, nothing remarkable. I wondered what the ripples did, what they made him see that had him react like that.

Walking up to him, I kept my eyes trained on his face, studying the way his features moved in such an unfamiliar way, contorting between disgust, severe sadness and paralyzing fear. When I finally stood beside him, the water moving at our feet, I looked down. The image that I saw was nothing other than to be expected. I recognized the both of us, even though the image was misshapen. But as soon as I looked at him in the water, I felt sick, sick through my entire body, which started shivering violently. I felt pain on my skin, like knives slashing me and leather straps whipping me. I felt hands stroking my body that I want to push away, but can't. My hair was being pulled painfully and someone was shouting the most horrible words in my ear. It was J.

Next to me, the dream-Heero is screaming: "Look what you're doing to me!"

And then I woke up. I was back in the bedroom, this time including all the appropriate furniture and - most importantly - Heero at my side. It hadn't been that the climax of my dream had startled me awake, Heero had his eyes open as well. We had been awoken by the ringing of the phone coming from the kitchen. I sighed. "I'm sorry. It's probably school, or Sookie. Both probably want to kick my ass by now." And with that, reality started again, but I got out of bed realizing that the dream-Heero didn't nearly differ as much from the real Heero as I had initially thought. Both were afraid of what would happen to them if I got too close. The closer I got, the more painful truths the mirror reflected.

Against my wishes, I did the mature thing and I decided to answer the phone. After I said my name, I wondered how long the phone had been ringing, because there was a long silence coming from the other side of the line, like the person hadn't expected me to pick up and was waiting for the voicemail. Finally I recognized the voice from the lady at the administration desk as she introduced herself.

"I have principle Murphy on the line for you." She added.

I swallowed a lump. "Okay."

"Here she comes." She said, like she was referring to a natural disaster of choice in some nameless apocalyptic blockbuster.

Hurricane Murphy's voice resounded strongly through the telephone. "Duo Maxwell, I presume you know why I am calling?"

"Yes." I looked at Heero, making us breakfast at lunch time.

"I need you to meet me today. We obviously have something important to discuss. I've got many upset phone calls from three sets of parents."

I defensively retorted: "They started it!" Maybe not so mature as I had intended.

"I know. There will be consequences for all of you. How does two forty-five suit you?"

I looked at the clock on an opposite wall. It was 13:20 already, but I could make it, so I consented.

"Good. I'll see you then. Goodbye."

"Bye." I accepted the sandwich Heero immediately offered me.

"And?"

"She wants to see me."

Heero, never having gotten himself in trouble at any of the schools we enrolled ourselves in as a cover, didn't know what that could mean. He was always the perfect student, I sometimes secretively blamed him if our cover was blown, no student is that perfect. Funny thing is, Heero used to blame me - albeit not as secretively.

"She's probably going to expel me. But, if I'm lucky, those other guys will get expelled too." I worked my way through breakfast quickly, keeping an eye on the clock. "What are you gonna do?"

Heero shrugged. "Maybe walk a little."

"Don't push yourself!" I warned him, even pointing that finger at him that I used to hate when it was pointed at me.

He didn't make any promises.

I showered the last of the tiredness off my body with the beat of cold water coming from the shower head. It was hard to relax, not because the temperature was freezing, but because Heero was in the bathroom as well, standing at the sink, just brushing his teeth. Oh hell, Heero could pick his nose and still turn me on.

I watched him through the frosted curtain and could see him more clearly than he could see me, thanks to the lighting. He was staring at his own reflection, even though the brushing he obviously did routinely and needed no visual feedback for. I, personally, was the type to drift away from the sink and walk around the room, fidgeting with things, trying to occupy myself till the two required minutes were up. Heero made a study of himself, those four minutes a day. I don't think there is a single pore on his face he hasn't scrutinized nor scolded.

I knew what I saw, when I looked at him. The most beautiful face I've ever seen. Sometimes it amazes me, just how perfectly handsome he is. But I didn't know what he saw when he looked at himself. Sometimes, when I caught a disdainful shift of his expression, I could swear he must not be seeing the same thing I did.

Once I was done, I boldly pulled the curtain back and stepped out onto the tiled floor in my birthday suit. I didn't even get the tiniest sideway glance.

I tendered my ego with a big fluffy towel, wrapping it around myself. Heero just finished, spitting the excess toothpaste into the sink and rinsing out his mouth. When he came back up, I had come to stand behind him and had joined him in the reflection. He looked at me with those brilliant eyes, his face was forlorn. With one arm I reached around him and readjusted a heavy lock of his bangs, brushing it out of his eyes. "You are so stunning." I told him. This seemed to surprise him. He looked back at himself, as if to see what the heck I was talking about. I came to stand closer to him and kissed his ear and neck, never breaking our gazes in the mirror. "You are so crazy beautiful." I had to say it, it was a truth burning on my tongue, even though it clearly made him self-conscious and uncomfortable.

There was a brief silence and then a dry: "You are late."

It was so out of context, I didn't even realize what he was referring to. "What?"

"You need to be at school in twenty minutes." He explained flatly.

"Oh shit! Not again!" I dropped the towel to the floor and darted back to the bedroom. That shower must have taken me a lot longer than I realized even though I had purposefully neglected to wash my hair! I jumped into a pair of boxers and jeans and slowed down shortly to pick a presentably shirt, going for a neutral brown shirt because I always felt brown said something along the likes of: boring but responsible. My braid looked a little bit more disheveled than I would have preferred, but there was no time, I could not be late.

"Good luck."

I looked up at Heero as I was stepping into my shoes without socks. It left me with mixed feelings. Would I need it? Would it help? Did I even want it? But instead of sharing that bundle of confusion with him, I just said: "Thanks." I gave him a hasty kiss and then reminded him not to overexert himself. And then I was gone.

My instinct was to sprint, but I figured dark sweat stains on my back and under my armpits didn't really reinforce the message of the brown shirt and I calculated that I would make it on time with just a steady jog. When I arrived at school, classes were in session, the yard and the hallways were completely abandoned. I walked through the gate, right across the "crime scene". There had been blood on the flagstones yesterday, but the rain had washed everything away except for my guilt. I apprehensively made my way towards the principal's office. The lady at the reception desk gave me a meaningful, disapproving look. The door to the office was open, but I didn't step inside, I knocked on the doorframe politely.

Murphy looked up and when she saw me, she heaved a deep sigh. "Duo..." She looked at her watch. "Right on time."

If only she knew, I thought to myself.

She got up out of her chair and walked up to me, her expression was a strange mix of anger and sympathy. "Come on, the others are waiting."

"Others?" My heart dropped into my untied shoes, overwhelmed with sudden feelings of nervousness. I knew exactly what she meant with "others". I followed her down the hall, to where I knew the conference room was where they held the teacher meetings. Danny had managed to successfully stink bomb the place just this year.

She opened the door and gestured for me to step inside.

The foul odor that had been there to our amusement, was long gone, a foul atmosphere remained.

All seated at one side of the long conference table, were Danny, Eduardo and Parker, looking pretty shaken at the sight of me, but with a smug sense of justice on their lips regardless. They were all accompanied by a parent of their choice. Eduardo and Parker had brought their fathers, sitting next to Danny was a sophisticated women in a Chanel suit, she had the lawyer vibe to her, but all I could think was: Danny brought his mommy. It was clear, he looked like her.

The parents sent angry glares my way. I've never seen people look at me like that, not even when I was a filthy street rat.

"Sit down, Duo." The principal ordered. She sat down at the head of the table and I sat down across from the three boys and their parents. I realized I was sitting there all by myself, unlike them, I had no accomplices or parents to fall back on, I had only myself to make my defense. Being used to this, the sting in my heart was dull, mostly I just realized that I didn't need accomplices or meddling parents. It once more underlined how different I was from them and even though I was outnumbered, I felt stronger on my own, than they looked as a front of six people.

"Duo, this is Daníel's mother, Eduardo's father and Parker's father."

I nodded.

"I know tensions may be running high, but I want this meeting to proceed in a civilized manner." Murphy stressed, making eye contact with each individual. "Obviously this situation is complicated, what Duo did was wrong, but what your sons did was also wrong."

"Still, there was no reason for that kid to harass my son like that!" Parker's father barked. He was an overweight man and his tight black tank top barely covered his hairy chest. Even from across the table, I could smell the alcohol the moment he opened his mouth and Parker seemed to cringe as he spoke. I found myself feeling sorry for the boy.

"No, there is no justification, I know that. And right now we are not here to talk about what happened between your sons and Aston, that has already been dealt with. Now we need to focus-"

"Wait, dealt with?" I interrupted her, rendering my "boring but responsible" shirt moot. "How has it been "dealt with"?"

Murphy stared disapprovingly at me for a little while, before she answered: "Daniel, Eduardo and Parker have been suspended for a week-"

"Suspended?" I exclaimed in apparent shock.

Murphy ignored me and continued. "They will be in detention every school day for a month, during which time they will also serve lunch duty."

I scoffed. "This is ridiculous! They harassed him! Aston is probably never gonna come back here, he was completely traumatized!"

"Don't exaggerate, they hardly laid a finger on him." Danny's mother spat defensively.

"Hardly laid a finger on him? They pierced his ears with rusty, old nails! He had bruises on his face! His eyes were red and swollen from that make-up shit!" I nearly stood up out of my seat. I don't know why, but the God of Death reminded me that I could kill every single one of them and at that moment the suggestion was tempting. "At the very least they should be expelled!" I told Murphy.

"Duo, that is not for you to decide. This issue has already been settled, Aston's father was fine with it."

"That's because Aston's dad is as much of a homophobe as they are!"

"Duo, you will lower your voice right now!"

I bit back an insult for my own sake, but I was enraged. I glared at the three boys across from me. They got a mere slap on the wrist because they had the luck that even after so much time, many people still share the same ignorant hatred as them.

"Now, considering the circumstances and the fact that you were standing up for a friend, however wrong your methods were, they have already agreed that you do not need to be expelled either. But, considering that you did a lot of physical damage, such as cracked ribs and broken eye sockets, I do think you should be punished quite strictly. Because that kind of rage is not befitting for a young man. I know that having been more involved in the war than many kids on earth have been, might have changed things a little for you, but this behavior is inexcusable. So I was thinking two months of detention and mandatory participation in our weekly anger management class, headed by miss Colt, till graduation, because as she says in her psychology class, you can never stop working on anger issues."

"You're letting him off too easy." Eduardo's father mumble under his breath.

I looked at Murphy, she was waiting for me to agree with her, it almost seemed like she expected me to be grateful. "No." I said.

"No?"

"It's not fair."

"Not fair?" She repeated flabbergasted. "Most students get expelled in these kinds of situations!"

"Then why didn't I? Why didn't we? Anger management? What kind of bullshit is that? And what about them? Does Colt organize "homophobia management" classes as well? They just fold paper planes for an hour every day and serve lukewarm pasta and they're done! They are the real problem, a problem you should address! How can any other gay kid feel safe when you let assholes like them get away with harassing us?"

"You're a faggot too?" Parker's father asked, then he turned to his son. "You got beat up by a queer?"

"Yes, sir." I answered, looking at him sternly and dangerously across the table. "He sure did."

"Duo, if you continue this attitude I'm going to expel you after all." Principal Murphy warned.

"Not necessary." I got out of my seat. "I'm dropping out. Give me five minutes to clear out my locker and I'm out of here. I don't need to be around this... this poison." With that prompt decision, I left the conference room.

Murphy called after me, shocked, but I didn't respond and she didn't chase me. I understood, she had been forced into an awkward position, what I didn't understand was how she could live with the decision she had made to let those bullies get away with it. Though I, for one, felt completely at ease with my decision.

I reached my locker and ripped it open. I hadn't brought a bag, but there wasn't much to take anyway. Aside from the three textbooks which I would have to return to the school later, along with the others at home, I threw everything into a nearby garbage bin, even papers and projects that I had been working hard on, deceiving myself with the illusion that those assignments actually had some importance in the grand scheme of the world, or even just in my life. As I headed out, the bell rang, initiating the ten minute break students used to exchange books, go to the bathroom and smoke. Crowds poured into the hallway and onto the yard. I practically had to elbow my way through them, holding the books to my chest with one hand and using the other to make my way through the masses.

A few yards away from the gate, I cleared the bustling crowd and in the open space I stopped dead in my tracks. The books almost dropped to the ground. Right where I had subdued Danny, Eduardo and Parker, just the other day, I found myself subdued, stunned frozen.

Waiting at the open gate, not even aware of my presence yet, was Heero, casually leaning against the brick wall, his gaze far away, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his deliciously tight jeans.

The inevitable smile on my face freed me and I walked up to him. As I closed the distance, he noticed me and looked up at me. "Heero." I breathed in awe and my smile only widened.

"Were you expelled?" He nodded at the books in my arms.

I shook my head. "No, actually, I quit."

His eyebrows drew up minutely. "Yeah? You can do that? Just like that?"

I shrugged. "I'm eighteen. As far as they know at least."

"No, I mean... you can do that, so suddenly? It doesn't bother you?"

"Yeah. All this shit... I just had an epiphany. I don't belong here." I looked back at the crowd full of young and naive faces. "I thought I still could be and part of me wish it was so, but... I'm not a kid anymore. For what it's worth, the war matured me and made me older and wiser than these kids will be for a long time to come. I can't be around them, it frustrates me." I looked back at Heero. "I want to be around you. I'm happy you came."

He shrugged like it didn't mean anything. "I wanted to take a walk anyway."

"Sure you did." I smirked.

Heero leaned in closer and whispered: "Some people are looking at us."

I didn't check, I'm sure there were. "Good." I closed the distance between us and kissed his lips lengthily. I vaguely registered some distant catcalls. I ended the kiss and with a smile suggested we head home.

Heero agreed.

I used my free hand to take hold of his, briefly catching him by surprise, but he didn't pull away and we comfortably held hands the whole way home. I wondered if my actions would reflect on Heero, if he too would have an epiphany and solve his situation according to his feelings, rather than his morality and would quit the Preventers as an active agent. But inspiring him was not why I did it - I wasn't that good - the further I was removed from school, the more normal I felt, because I wasn't trying to be something I was supposed to be, I was just me.

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Chapter 30

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