"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 XXXIV - The night is darkest (part 1)

I went to work with a very real sense of trepidation. I feared my future would betray me. Was I so long engrossed in an illusion that could never be, or was I jumping to conclusions? I was hoping for the latter, but as the train approached my destination, I couldn't imagine myself ever coming to love, or even look forward to, a day of work under these conditions. I was desiring impossible things, I knew that, but these desires I could not easily shake. I wanted a normal life, I wanted that house with Heero, I wanted a relationship that is real and open. And at the same time I wanted my life to be of a greater importance, of a greater significance, to mean something to more people and to more causes than just to myself and to my own. My role in the war had spoiled me. It wasn't so much that I required a position that satisfied the God of Death - I was done with that character - I needed a position that satisfied my sense of morality and honor. I had helped create a fragile peace and now the sense of duty was upon me to help maintain it.

I didn't feel very involved in that all important maintenance of this delicate peace unclogging rifle barrels and doing routine check-ups on small electronic field equipment, like navigation devices and night vision goggles. For that was all I had been doing for three days now and I just felt myself sinking into resentment, it seemed like Une hadn't received my digital request for a much needed break in the routine.

Every attempt at conversation with my fellow mechanics, ended in a quarrel that had them turning away from me. I was being the nicest I could possibly be, though unable to refrain myself from correcting them occasionally. They weren't stupid, they knew I wasn't one of them. My eyes and face, in spite of my tall posture, betrayed my youth, if only they know how young I truly was. Too young to be a decent mechanic, they all figured, I could see that in the looks they sent my way. Above that the coordinator was paying too much kind and thoughtful attention to me and my work, I didn't notice it until the second day, that he never talked to any of the other mechanics, causing them to realize someone higher up must have demanded kindness and understanding of him towards me. Put two and two together, as they did, and they recognized me as a special case, someone who had been given an extraordinary opportunity based not on skill nor work ethic, but on the people I know.

I could not blame them. If in their shoes I would have approached a person like me with the same skepticism. In fact, I had. On L2, when I was still very young, a boy wanted to join our gang. He was older than me. He wasn't starving, he wasn't homeless, he just wanted to be part of something rebellious as boys his age wanted to be. We all disliked him, but we let him hang out with us, for the sole reason that his father owned a bakery and would happily provide his son with a warm break every day to share with his friends. And I wasn't even that boy, my colleagues couldn't even muster the effort of decency.

The train stopped and I got out. I was already wearing my black overalls and merged with the crowd, yet I felt no part of them. The ones who knew me immaturely avoided me, the ones who didn't know me, were just shamelessly uninterested. We all made our way inside, most keeping to themselves. I spotted Stan in the line ahead of me, not knowing what had gotten into me, I called out his name and waved when he turned to look. He waved, but then turned back again as he was about to enter through the gate. I didn't see him after that.

I made my way over to my station, where my first project of the day would be waiting for me. I frowned when my table was empty, there was nothing there like there had been for the past two days. I wondered if Une had finally received my email and had misinterpreted it as a resignation. I found myself not really caring whether or not she had, but I spoke to Jett when he passed me by.

"Hey," I said.

He looked up from a folder he had been reading. He smiled. "Good morning, Duo. How can I help you?"

I could feel the stares of my colleagues on the back of my head, but when I turned they all redirected their attention to their projects. "Well, I don't have a project waiting for me, but the others do. Is something wrong?"

He reached for his clipboard with assignments which he had held between his arm and the side of his torso. "No, nothing is wrong. There's just been a little delay, the supply crew from last night didn't get the update in the assignments. The new shift should be working on getting your project to you right now. You should be quite honored, normally we don't let new mechanics work on the bigger projects in Grid One, we leave that to the more experienced crew. But Une assured me you are plenty experienced." He smiled at me and I couldn't decide whether or not it was genuine, I leaned towards not. "Ah, here is your project right now." He nodded over my shoulder.

I turned around and say a worker in a blue overall roll a camouflaged dirt bike to my station, causing me a somewhat childlike, enthusiastic thrill, seeing all those parts which are far more interesting and abundant than those of a simple rifle. He placed the accompanying report on my table and left with a polite nod. In the background I could see my surrounding colleagues twisting their necks to curiously observe.

"Awesome."

"Well, enjoy." Jett said and then he walked off.

I delved into the report for clues to the damage and my excitement built as I realized I would have to take the entire engine apart to locate the problem.

I worked, uninterrupted and quite pleased with myself, on the motorcycle till after the mandatory lunch break, shortly after which I had reassembled all the parts and replaced a couple of them as gunfire, as it appears, had ruined them beyond repair. I mounted the bike and started it's engine, satisfied with the deep rumble and soft vibrations of the machine. For the first time, I made use of the outlined red "roads" leading to the back of the grand hall. There was a certain sense of victory as I drove the bike the distance to the back, keeping my speed in check with effort. The closer I got to the platform elevator, the bigger things got, till finally, behind the wrought chassis of a sand colored tank, a mobile suit became visible. A regular Leo, painted a matte black, the Preventer logo on it's shoulders. It lay on it's back, the vaulted door to the cockpit was wide open and reflected the flickering blue lights of malfunctioning screens. A second mechanic was circling it, holding a holographic note pad, he systematically checked the joints for circuit strength, entering the data into his note pad.

A voice came from the cock pit, shouting: "What about now?"

The other shook his head. "The robotics of the limbs are still not responding to the input from the cock pit."

"Impossible, we checked all the connections!" Was the echoing response from inside the machine's stomach.

I was about to make a suggestion, having quite some experience with mobile suits in general, but also Leo's in specific, when someone to my left called for my attention.

"Are you done with that?" A stocky man in blue overall asked me impatiently.

"Uh, yeah, all fixed." I started to dismount it but stopped as he asked:

"What are you doing? Drive it onto the platform, you can park it next to the dragonfly."

I settled myself back onto the seat and slowly drove it onto the platform, outlined by studded double red lines that caused a shock through my body as I drove over them. I circled the mostly empty platform and backed it up in the far left corner, next to the dragonfly, a magnetic levitation transport device, basically: an overgrown, flying motor cycle sent back from repairs in Grid Two. On my way back I handed the grouchy man the repair report for the dirt bike, neither of us said anything.

I walked past the Leo again and noticed the two mechanics talking to each other, one looking over the shoulder of the other, at the data holographically displayed by the note pad. Even though giving my other co-workers advice on how to improve on their work had not been well received in the past, I figured I should give it a shot as the two looked obviously lost over a problem that I knew to be easily fixable. I walked over to them.

"Hey."

The two looked up. "Hello." Only one of them replied, black bangs framed friendly and curious eyes.

"Would you mind some input?" I started friendly enough, nodding at the unmoving assembly of steel and carbon fiber next to us.

They both seemed skeptical but the black-haired one said: "Sure, we're hitting a dead end anyway. Do you know MS technology?"

"You could say that." I replied somewhat mysteriously, hoping to avoid further questioning.

The mechanic showed me the data they had gathered and relayed: "All systems seem to be working, there is no problem with power supply or the hardwire connections, but nothing responds to commands and the main screen in the cockpit just keeps giving default information and then all systems report major error regarding circuits that we know are intact."

I nodded, briefly skimming the data. The information was unnecessary, I had encountered this problem a couple of times before when I tried to "borrow" one of the enemies Leo's. If they had had a former OZ soldier on staff, this would never have been an issue, as they had long learned to deal with this technical malfunctioning. "It's the boot-up procedure," I started explaining, "it's screwed up in all Leo's. You see, they are programmed for automatic start-up, which basically means that all individual systems start booting-up as soon as you turn the MS on. This should be no problem, except for the fact that some systems start up quicker than others, just because they are less complicated, such as the Satellite Control Systems that operate each limb individually in reaction to commands from the Main Operating System. The Main Operating System starts up last, being the most complicated system. but this system needs to be up first to coordinate the start-up process of the subordinate systems, like the four SCS. Without the input of the MOS, every single system starts up independently of the others and then they can't communicate. The MOS doesn't recognize them as it's own extensions, so it gives an error, because there is nothing for it to operate and in turn the SCS are useless without the input from the MOS, so they report errors as well."

I watched understanding dawn on their faces, mixed with a wondrous sense of awe, as they obviously grew curious as to how I know all this. I finished with a shrug and a casual smile: "This is unique for Leo's, none of the other Mobile Suits do this because for those special systems were created, the MOS and SCS and all other systems are one. Leo's, being low-budget and low-tech as they are, are basically just an assembly of parts and operating systems originating from different branches of technology, made to communicate with each other and function as one. That's why they are so fussy."

The two nodded as this explanation seemed reasonable enough to them. "How do we fix this?"

"Well, two ways actually. You can go through the reset process and manually boot up the systems. However, this would have to be done each time you want to use the Leo and in battle situations it is too time-consuming, it takes about fifteen minutes each time and it's not fool-proof. OZ engineers found a way to fix this problem for their Leo's permanently, with a massive recalibration of the system, taking it back to it's most primitive settings, from where you can change the start-up sequence, coordinate it to start up the MOS first and then the MOS will boot up the other systems automatically in the right order. It takes a couple of hours, but at least then your problem will be fixed once and for all."

One of them frowned: "And you've been taught this by OZ engineers?"

The truthful answer was no, it was more a matter of reverse engineering, with a healthy dosage of logic, after having successfully stolen many recalibrated Leo's and then coming across one who was giving me the described problems. However, the answer most appropriate for a young guy who had supposedly spent the war up on L2, away from the majority of the action was: "Yeah, well, you know how it goes. I knew a guy who knew a guy. " I casually brushed it off.

"Right. Well, thanks, we'll certainly give it a try." The guy with the black hair said appreciatively.

"No problem. It really should fix it, if it doesn't, I'd be happy to take a look at it. An extra set of eyes never hurt."

"Okay, that's fine, we'll let you know how it goes. What grid are you from, heavy artillery and armored transportation?"

"No, I'm in Grid One, actually. Fire arms and small equipment." I brushed the back of my neck sheepishly when I saw the strange look on their faces.

"You're kidding." The talkative black-haired one of the two said, clearly baffled.

"Nope."

"Well, I'm not here to judge, but maybe you should really reconsider a re-assignment. Seems to me like it would be a waste of talent to let you replace the lenses of binoculars, or, whatever the hell you guys do down there." He reached out his hand towards me and I excepted it, shaking it. "Thanks for the help, -"

"Duo Maxwell."

"Duo Maxwell. Grid One." He repeated, with a hint of friendly mockery to his tone of voice, the other mostly idly standing by, "I'll let you know how your suggestion turns out."

"Great. And you are?"

"Landon Jones, Grid Five." He answered with a smile.

"Nice to meet you."

I went back to my station, feeling good about myself, about being able to help and about meeting a friendly co-worker, which was a novelty. All good feelings faded away when I neared my work table and I spotted another rifle propped up on it's legs, waiting for me. The report was brief: "Trigger is stuck". It would be an easy, but tedious fix, one I had performed three times already over the short course of time spent here behind this table, which started to feel like an eternity.

In this manner the day grinded on. The motorcycle had been a welcome break but Jett informed me those were few and far between, anything bigger than that dirt bike would be taken care of by Grid Two and obviously the Preventers didn't exactly use and abundance of dirt bikes. At my obvious disappointment at this news, Jett seemed confused and reminded me that Une had specifically arranged for me to be working by myself, which, to maintain speed of repairs, was only possible when working on the small projects of Grid One. To that I could only consent, though I never requested Une to place me on individual projects, rather, when she suggested it, it seemed to make sense. I didn't know what limitations this would bring me.

Obviously I had to send another email.

The day was over and the garage started emptying out. I waited by my work table a little while, I had been unable to finish my newest project - a compass that didn't point North - within the time restriction of my day, but that was not why I remained seated. I waited for Jett to finish up his end of the day meeting with the four other grid coordinators, one of them being Stan, I couldn't help but notice. As soon as the group of five started to break apart, I hurried over to Jett, tapping him on his shoulder.

"Bye!" Stan said to me as he walked away.

"Bye." I turned to Jett who was expectantly looking at me. "I was hoping you would have some time for me."

"Sure. What can I do for you?"

After only two days I was really starting to hate that question. It was brazenly apparent that Une had given orders to all the superiors to tend to my needs. I disliked this. I had always taken care of myself, finding my place in any environment that naturally had a pyramidal structure of command. I wanted to matter, I didn't want to be treated as a special case. But for once, I realized, I might as well take advantage of it, so I wondered: "Working in Grid One isn't really what I had imagined. Is it possible to be transferred to a different grid on short notice?"

"No." Was Jett adamant answer, but then he elaborated: "Though I'm sure Une would make an exception for you."

To the tone of his voice my anger flared and ignoring the fact that he was my superior, I told him: "Look, I'm not here to abuse the fact that I know Lady Une personally. I don't need you to kiss my ass because I'm on friendly terms with your boss. I'm just looking for a job that will suit me. I don't think you get to make snide comments at me just because I'm not satisfied replacing firing pins all day."

He seemed taken aback by my outburst, but didn't comment on it. "I'll make sure your request for re-assignments makes it to the appropriate desk this evening." He spoke haughtily.

"Thank you." I bit back.

He parted with me with his usual, perfectly polite smile and I watched him go, his footfalls a little heavier than usual. I made my way back to the train station where I discovered that I had narrowly missed my train. With a sigh I lowered myself down on the steel bench facing the platform, looking back at the tower of the head quarters, the expanse of the garage invisible underneath. I felt invisible, meaningless. Each day I developed more and more understanding for the fact that Heero could no longer remain seated behind a desk as a hacker, being confronted with the reality of the situation. Just as he discovered information on hostile intents, I too saw the enemy in the world far outside the space of my own little worktable, in every damaged gun or equipment and in the bullet ridden vehicles in Grid Two and Three, perfectly in my line of sight.

You get that feeling you are needed somewhere, somewhere you are not. Why aren't you there? Or why isn't there someone out there who knows what you know and can do what you do? That cynical little voice in the back of my head that was oftentimes quiet but never missing, leered: You aren't out there because you've been too mentally screwed up, like your boyfriend and there is no one out there who can do what you guys can do because no one else can.

It was quite a dilemma to be stuck in the middle of.

"Duo Maxwell Grid One!" Someone called out as if that was my entire name.

I looked up and I saw the friendly face of the MS mechanic I had met earlier that day. His raven black hair matched the color of his overall. "Landon Jones Grid Five." I responded in kind.

He heavily sat down next to me, his hands deep in the pockets of his overalls. He extended his legs out, leaning back in the seat. He groaned as he rolled his neck. Finally, he spoke again. "Oh, we recalibrated that Leo, you were totally right. We changed the start-up sequence and now it's working perfectly." He looked at me with a big genuine smile. The kind of smile a true mechanic has when he has learned something new and has an even more intimate knowledge of his machines. "Thanks man."

"You're welcome."

"Dumb thing is, we've been working on that thing on and off for almost a week, checking every system... we even rewired part of it... I guess when your nose is so close to it, you can't see the big picture anymore huh?"

"Yes, that is possible. Fresh eyes always help."

"Nah," Landon said and he shrugged his broad shoulders, "I'm just making excused for myself. Truth is, we would have never figured to recalibrate. Know why?" He didn't wait for an answer and immediately continued: "We would be too damn afraid we wouldn't be able to boot it up at all once we started to mess with the core settings. We have eight guys working on those things around the clock, none of us had any prior experience with Mobile Suits before we started working for the Preventers. We're good mechanics, we just don't know shit about Mobile Suits."

I frowned. "How is that even possible? No offense, but there are a lot of guys - and girls - in this world who, after the war, have experience with Mobile Suits." There weren't that many engineers, but soldiers grew attached to and familiar with their machines over the course of the war and developed a reasonable technological insight in the specific field

"Well that's the damn thing, former soldiers or employees of military organizations aren't allowed to join the Preventers. The threat of previous affiliations and such. Especially soldier, or pilots, no one who knows how to actually operate them is allowed near them. Afraid their going to nab them or something. Preventers are a damn paranoid group of people."

I looked away because I couldn't hide a smile. Little did he know that the man sitting next to him and his own boss had pretty strong "previous affiliations".

"Our grid coordinator is the only one with some previous experience, as a manufacturer, mind you. Even he is at a loss sometimes. MS mechanics are a dying breed, you know."

"Yeah." The fact that no one in the world is still supposed to have Mobile Suits didn't help.

"You what I'm thinking sometimes?" Landon sat up straight and looked at me seriously.

"What?"

"The Preventers don't even have qualified mechanics to repair the Mobile Suits. Sometimes I wonder how in the hell they are supposed to train adequate pilots. Who's going teach them when they don't allow former soldiers of the Alliance, nor OZ to join?"

"Good point. I don't know. Maybe Lady Une herself, she's a capable pilot."

Landon frowned. "What the fuck, she is?"

Right, I scolded at myself, I wasn't supposed to know that, more importantly, he isn't supposed to know that I know.

Luckily, Landon didn't make a big deal of it. He sat back. "Just something I think about sometimes."

He had got me thinking about it too. Though surely Une had managed to find someone with the capacity and time to train new recruits, or do it herself, it was to be doubted any of these new trainees could hold a candle to us, or even the OZ soldiers we used to fight during the war. I wondered if Zechs or Noin were involved in the training process, but I quickly dismissed that idea as I knew them to be in the Mars orbit, overseeing the construction of a new colony, defending it against possible attacks. It wasn't exactly a short commute to make on a regular basis.

I rose to my feet when my train stopped at the platform. Landon remained seated so I turned back to him and asked if he was coming.

Landon shook his head. "I need a different train, I live in Jacksonville."

"Okay. Have a nice evening." I stepped into the train.

He returned the sentiment right before the doors closed and raised his hand in a wave as the train took off.

I seated myself in a chair away from the other people on board, closing my eyes to rest them after staring at tiny parts for the duration of the day.

At home I found Heero asleep on the couch, still wearing his running shorts and a shirt that clung to his body with sweat. He had added late afternoon exercising to his work out schedule, going to the gym we had nearly become strangers to. I still joined him for a run early in the morning. This intensification of his routine made me aware that the time may be drawing near when he would embark on the mission he previous failed. There was nothing I could do except run with him whenever I could, to remain close to him, but also, to physically prepare myself for the abusive strain that a high priority mission puts on your body, my mind working equally hard to come to accept the fact that I would be joining him.

I slowly turned down the volume of the television before shutting it off, to avoid the sudden silence waking him.

In the bedroom I shed myself of my overalls and took a hot, leisure shower before getting to work on a second email to Une, in case Jett wouldn't keep to his promise. She had sent me an email in return in regards to my previous request. Her words indicated that she had been enthusiastic and pleased with the offering of the motorcycle and I felt a little bad for having to tell her that her kind effort had not been sufficient. In the email I told her about what I had learned today; the inexperience of the MS mechanics and suggested that I would make a valuable addition to that grid. I ended with a sarcastic remark about going to shoot myself with one of those rifles if I would be subjected to the dull job of fixing them much longer. As I pressed SEND, I wondered how far removed from the truth that statement was. I wouldn't kill myself, but I would probably shoot at the ground at Jett's feet as a release of frustration and if I were to accidentally shoot him in the leg... oh well, it builds character, or so I've been told.

I ordered dinner over the phone - Italian because it was Wednesday - and decided I'd better wake up Heero or else suffer the lecture of not letting him disturb his natural rhythm again for future reference. I approached him and softly placed my hands on his shoulders. Even this soft touch stirred him, he let out a meek, dissatisfied moan and threatened to fall asleep again, so I gently shook him to permanently jostle him awake.

His vibrant blue eyes blinked open to look at me with momentary, innocent confusion. "Was I sleeping?" He asked, slowly sitting up.

"Yeah."

He continued with a mumbling voice: "I shouldn't sleep during the day, it disturbs my natural rhythm."

I smiled. "Why won't you go take a shower? Clean yourself off, wake yourself up. Dinner will be here in twenty minutes."

He nodded and left for the bathroom.

In the meantime I set the table and turned the radio on for some soft background music to accompany our dinner. Our meals arrived a few minutes early, but the shower had already been turned off. Heero would be done soon, his mop of short hair no where near the same time investment to dry as my long braid was, so I started unpacking the food.

"Right on time." I commented as he emerged, a small towel still around his neck to prevent water from dripping out of his hair and onto his clean shirt. "Hungry?"

"Very." Heero answered as he sat himself down and his stomach growled in agreement.

I sighed. "You did eat lunch, right?"

"I wasn't hungry then."

I looked at him skeptically. "You weren't hungry or you weren't here?"

He brought a large forkful of pasta to his lips and filled his mouth with it to avoid having to answer.

"How long did you go to the gym for?" I demanded to know.

He kept chewing silently, but once he had managed to swallow the mouthful he answered, because he knew I was going to force him to anyway. "Four hours."

"Four hours? Heero, you can't exhaust yourself like that! And you shouldn't push your knee like that either. You're going to fuck it up more than that piece of shrapnel did."

"It wasn't four straight hours of running, I did push-ups and weights and crunches." He argued, not at all liking this scrutiny and critique.

"Oh fantastic, so not only did you work hard to screw up your knee, you've been giving your shoulder a hard time too." I bit sarcastically.

Heero glared at me, his fork halfway between his plate and his lips, frozen in space even though his stomach was still growling from hunger. "Can we not fight about this?"

"We're not fighting we're having a discussion."

"Fine. Than I wish not to discuss it." He resumed eating.

I decided not to push it. The whole issue was putting a strain on our relationship as it was, there was no need for me to help it along, make matters even worse by confronting him about things he didn't want to be confronted with. Of course I worried about his well-being, but I realized that no matter how much I worried, it didn't increase my chances of getting through to him and so the effect was only directed inwards, as Heero stubbornly continues to run his knee to hell.

There was an unspoken deviousness to my surrender as well, it's origin being that little shadow of the cynical God of Death in the back of my mind, he didn't say anything, but if he were an actual tiny person I imagined he would have shrugged at Heero's opposing disposition. It was a horrible thing to think, but I thought it regardless: Une wouldn't send an agent with a serious knee injury on such an important mission. His own stubbornness may unknowingly cost him the chance to redeem himself. As his loving boyfriend, I think I was supposed to warn him of this, it would probably be the only logic to turn out effective, but he didn't want to discuss it, so I didn't say anything and suffered the gnawing guilt and doubt in silence.

All of a sudden Heero found an unrelated subject that he apparently did wish to discuss. As he scraped the remaining bit of pasta to the center of his plate with his fork, to gather up one last bite, he asked, with his gaze intently focused on his job. "How was work?"

That was something I didn't want to discuss. For starters I didn't have much interesting to report back to him, secondly, I was hoping to be able to keep him in the dark about the details of my work so any future transfers would go unnoticed until I finally found my place in the agency. Hopefully that place was Grid Five. I certainly was looking forward to the prospect. "It was fine." I lied. "A bit uneventful." Now that was closer to the truth.

"Do you like it?"

A tough question to bypass. "Every new job takes some getting used to."

He looked up at me from underneath frowning eyebrows, he had definitely caught on that I was avoiding direct answers to his questions, something he would have never noticed a few months back, so I guess that was good. But what wasn't good was the way he looked at me, rightfully distrusting, aware that I was keeping a truth from him. I expected him to call me on it, after all, I had been the one to preach honesty and openness in this relationship. But he didn't. He didn't say anything. He probably understood that he didn't have to say anything, his gaze said it all. He looked away and brought the last forkful to his mouth.

In silence we cleared the table and then I disappeared into our little office as Heero turned on the television to catch the eight o'clock news. Une had been quick in her response this time with the return of a curt email.

Hello Duo,

I understand, I will see to it that you will be transferred. Tomorrow they will be expecting you in Grid Five.

Sincerely,

Lady Une.

I was pleased with turn of events and found myself cautiously looking forward to the next workday. Realizing how tired I had gotten from this long day, I announced to Heero that I would be going to bed early. His only acknowledgement was a brief raise of his hand, a sort of frozen wave, as he didn't even avert his eyes from the television screen. He had his left leg propped up on the coffee table and his hands automatically worked to massage his knee and the surrounding muscles and tendons in his lower thigh and upper calf. I refrained myself from walking up to him and asking if he was in pain, or offering to bring him a pack of ice, I didn't think my help would be received appreciatively.

I undressed in the privacy of the bedroom and crawled into bed, sighing as my body felt weightless as it was supported by the soft, yielding mattress. I didn't expect to fall asleep swiftly, with all the troubles that had been gathering in my mind, but my body was dead tired and my mind didn't stand a chance at keeping it awake for the sake of pondering. I drifted away to a dreamless sleep.

The next morning my footsteps were a little lighter as I prepared to head off to work. Hope was a powerful thing. I had just showered, after getting out of bed ridiculously early to run with Heero, trailing behind him to observe the movements of his leg. Not just to check up on his physical well-being, but also to distract my eyes from the way his shirt clung in his body. I had the bottom of my overalls on, but the top I had tied around my hips, the white tank top I wore underneath was more forgiving in the heat. I wasn't sure if it was the actual, environmental heat, lingering heat from our work-out or remaining heat from quickly masturbating in the shower, but I was damn hot.

As Heero emerged from the shower wearing only his sweatpants, his hair still dark and wet from his shower, I edged towards the latter of the explanations, feeling the heat rise. We hadn't even kissed since our last toss around the bed, neither of us, so it seemed, found himself in the right mood, but my body could care less about moods and felt electrified each time I couldn't stop myself from remembering his kisses, or his body flush against mine.

I sipped my coffee slowly with a distasteful expression. Too much heat surrounded me.

Heero sat down across from me, reaching for one of the bagels we had gotten on our way back from our morning exercise through the park. I had already finished mine and wrapped an additional bagel in a plastic bag to substitute the truly inedible things that they served at the cafeteria. Sitting there I wished I could just reach out and lightly touch his hand, but it didn't feel right. I didn't know why I specifically longed to touch his hand, but I caught myself staring at them. Even though the palms of his hands are rough as were mine, he had pretty hands, for lack of better words. That is probably a silly thing for one guy to think about the hands of another guy and I wasn't sure if our relationship justified the odd thought. But he had pretty hands, I noted. Long, slim fingers and clean, pinkish nails. The skin on the back of his hand I knew to be soft. I didn't want those hands to kill anymore, I thought, I only want them to hold me, to touch my face.

"Duo?"

I redirected my gaze to his face, blinking mental images away. "Yeah?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "You were staring."

I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Are you still hungry, do you want my bagel?" He asked as he innocently assumed I had been staring at the bagel, rather than the delicate hand holding it.

"No, I'm fine. I wasn't really looking, I was just lost in thought."

His eyes betrayed his curiosity but he didn't ask any questions to satisfy it.

"I have to go." I rose to my feet and grabbed the small backpack with only a bagel and a clean shirt, just in case. I started walking away but at the front door I turned back to him and pleaded: "Don't overexert yourself, okay?"

"I won't." He said. Of course Heero had a completely different idea of overexertion and my plea would probably turn out to be useless, but it was worth a shot.

I took the train and traveled back to the agency, slowly moving forward in the crowd as each employee had to pass through one of only few access gates. I hoped my transferal had transgressed successfully, so I could be free of the tedious work I had been doing for the past three days and escape the looks of my resentful co-workers in Grid One. I decided to head towards the administration desk in the garage to verify, but halfway there a familiar voice called out my - extended - name:

"Duo Maxwell Grid One!"

I turned around and saw Landon approach me with a grin, coming from the access gates.

"It's Grid Five now actually, if all has gone well."

"Yeah, so I've heard, you sure made quick work of that transferal. The people upstairs must have been pretty impressed with your suggestion for the Leo's yesterday."

I got the impression that this time no one was notified of my rather close acquaintance with Une, so I innocently played along. "Yeah, must have."

"Well, come on, we already started work on the other ones." He gestured for me to follow him to the back, to the appropriate grid.

Along the way I curiously inquired: "How many Mobile Suits does the agency have?"

"Fifty-two." Landon answered with a proud smile.

The number staggered me. "Really? That many?"

"Yeah, I was surprised myself that they had managed to salvage that many. But in case another MS incident does happen, the Preventers have to have the upper hand, right?"

I nodded. I doubted any one else had managed to salvage that many. Even though during the war there were thousands of them, the integration of all of Earth's nations and the colonies into the Earth Sphere Unified Nation called for a destruction of all Mobile Suits and any means to produce them. Upon request, only a handful of world famous museums were allowed to preserve a single example of a certain type, but those had been rendered inoperable for obvious safety reasons. Obviously it wouldn't be difficult for a nation or private organization to stow away a few and write it off as a misplacement or damage during transportation to the designated destruction sight, where the "explosive dismantling" would be overseen by ESUN officials. But the ESUN board kept a close eye on the process and a number anywhere close to fifty would have set off alarms.

"So I assume ESUN condoned this?" I asked.

"Oh, hell yeah. Can't do anything without them breathing down our necks. Hopefully we'll never have to use them, but just in case, we have to make sure they are in excellent operating condition and that we are prepared for reparations in case something gets damaged during battle. All MS factories were dismantled. What you see is what you get."

We arrived at Grid Five, where four Leo's lay next to each other, their cockpits open and lit up. I couldn't help but wonder aloud: "Where are the others?"

"Downstairs, in the bunker." Landon said, getting a pack of chewing gum out of his pocket. "Want some?"

"No thanks."

He popped one into his mouth and then announced with a grin: "Let's get to work!"

He guided me to one of the Leo's and gave me the simple instruction of doing what I told them to do yesterday and introduced me to my partner, a quiet professional, who would be serving more as my assistant during the process, checking satellite systems at my request.

As the recalibration had worked wonderfully on the first Leo, there were now fifty-one of them waiting to be updated with the same procedure. I felt a heavy feeling in my gut at hearing that, but I ignored it and climbed into the cockpit of my designated project. Luckily I later learned not all of the Mobile Suits were Leo's, so not all fifty-two of them would need recalibrating, but the majority did. It would be an immense, time-consuming and sadly rather dull job.

Being in the cockpit of a Mobile Suit felt strange yet familiar at the same time. I knew where all the controls were, my hands finding them blindly. I pulled the main screen up in front of me and it flashed the well-known error message. I started work on the recalibration, which strongly reminded me of my hacking efforts during the war, long lines of white script scrolling past on a blue background, my eyes moving back and forth swiftly to keep up with all of the information. To change the start-up sequence might take the inexperienced mechanic about five hours, I could complete the task in little over three. There was no further shaving down the investment of time, three hour is just what it took for the system to go through all the different boot-up sequences as it is stripped down to basic setting and then has to be built up again. I was well into the process of recalibrating my second MS of the day when Landon poked his head into the cockpit.

"Hey man, lunch time."

I wasn't really hungry, but my eyes were already sore from staring at the screen for almost five hours, so the break was welcome. I followed him and the other eight Grid Five mechanics to the front, to the cafeteria. We were the last grid to have lunch, Grid One had already gone back to work. When we passed their stations and I caught them looking at me, I mischievously waved at them.

"Friends of yours?" Landon asked.

"Not exactly."

"Good. Jealous little buggers those Grid One guys are..." He looked at me and jested: "With the exception of you of course."

"Of course." I returned with a smile.

The small group of eight - nine including me - was much closer to each other than the mechanics I had previously been hanging around. Working together, especially working together on such interesting projects as Mobile suits, had created a bond between them and it was like being thrown into a group of good friends. They were very kind to me and showed interest in my background, but I felt a little out of place, being the only one there with dark secrets to keep. We ate and then four of us, including myself, played a brief game of basketball in teams of two. Naturally, my team won, instantly making me Landon's best friend, or so he kept saying, as he teased the other two about their massive loss.

Landon, aside from me, was the youngest of the group, still I estimated him to be almost twenty-five. The oldest of the group was about forty years old but equally immature in spirit as the rest of them. I could feel the age gap, not that I was much younger, but that I was mentally far older than them. I could goof around like the rest of them, but as I did I wondered how they would fare as the only group able to fix Mobile Suits when a new war would inadvertently come.

We went back to work and I managed to reset three Leo's that day, leaving a little later than the rest because I was determined to finish the third, though I assured my partner he was free to leave and it didn't take much convincing for him to do so. When I emerged from the cockpit at the end of another long day, I saw Landon sitting on the leg of the suit.

"You didn't have to wait for me." I said, drawing his attention.

"Don't feel too flattered, man, my train doesn't leave for another ten minutes." He explained.

We headed back to the train station, Landon talked a lot, mostly about the details of his work. I liked him. For some reason I couldn't help but imagine that had it not been for the war, I would have turned out very similar to him and we would have made good friends. But right now, with my history dragging behind me heavily, I couldn't help but feel like an imposter and I realized we could never be friends as long as I kept pretending. Which I planned on doing.

He got onto his train and a few moments later I got onto mine. Thirty of the fifty-two Mobile Suits in possession of the agency were Leo's. To recalibrate all of them would take the entire team several more days. It was yet another wake-up call. And what would we be doing once we were done with all the Leo's? The suits aren't currently being used, so all there was to do was regular maintenance, which I imagined wouldn't entail anything much more exciting or challenging than systematically checking circuit strength and paint touch-ups.

At home I couldn't avoid Heero's questions successfully anymore, so I finally admitted that I had been working as a MS mechanic. He seemed to be intrigued by this, perhaps because he figured my renewed interest in Mobile Suits would lead to more acceptance and understanding regarding his desire to go on that mission, much like we used to go on missions when we were pilots. He wouldn't be entirely wrong, at the very least the work made me realize that we had become addicted to adrenaline and being key players, so I grew more understanding of his craving for it, but my feelings remained mixed, I remained torn.

"Did you know the Preventers had Mobile Suits?" I asked over an otherwise dead quiet dinner.

"Yes, Une informed me. They don't have a lot of pilots though, they are still working on a suitable training program."

"Yeah, I suspected as much."

"But you like working on the Leo's?"

I decided to be honest with him, I might as well tell him because if things remained the way they were, I didn't see myself working as an MS mechanic on a long term basis. It sounded horrible to say, it was horrible to say, but the only way for this job to remotely work out of me, if another war started, than at least my job would be challenging, stimulating and important with the thrill of time pressure. The situation as it was, would quickly be unfulfilling. "I have to be honest, it's kind of dull. We have to recalibrate all of the Leo's and after that just regular check-ups."

Heero Hm'd, familiar with the boot-up problems that the Leo's suffered. "So you don't think you'll continue to work there?"

I could have lied, could have kept up the pretences, but I realized Heero wasn't just this person that I had to protect from himself, he was my boyfriend and I should be able to honestly talk about my feelings with him, for my own sake. I needed someone to talk to and that someone should be Heero. "I don't know. I'm starting to worry that there is nothing I can do for the agency that is really going to suit me. I mean, I could try another transfer to a different grid, maybe work on the tanks, or the trucks, at least those get used and are really in need of repair. But I'm always going to be just a mechanic... Is it totally stupid that I don't like that idea?"

"No. I- I know what you mean."

I sighed. "Look, I know what your thinking. The easy solution would be for us to become agents, go on foreign missions. Save the world one tiny step at a time... But there is one thing I've learned about myself since the war, that that is only a part of me. Yes, a part of me wants to matter, wants to save lives, wants to change lives. That part is very aware that I could do some greater good. But that is not the only part of me. There is also this part that wants the stuff that other people think is so straightforward." I looked at him intently, trying to gauge his reaction. "I want a house, a big house with a big garden. Maybe... maybe have some pets... I want to travel to all these places that I've always wanted to see and stay in hotels not safe houses. And most importantly, I want you. I want you to be with me, but be happy and free. I want to take you out to dinners and concerts... Surprise you with an impromptu trip to some romantic foreign capital for our anniversary..." I said dreamily, leaving it to be interpreted what kind of anniversary I was referring to.

Heero was obviously overwhelmed by my admission, he absentmindedly bit his lip as he looked away pensively.

I reached out and grabbed his hands, feeling their warmth and softness, rejoicing. I waited for him to look at me before I continued seriously: "We can't have those things when we are constantly away on missions. We'd be gone for days, maybe even weeks, or longer than that if we are undercover and you can't have those things when you are never home. I mean, sure, we'd try, like you tried - in secrecy - before... but we both know what that would lead to. We are two former Gundam Pilots, we would take the hardest, most dangerous missions because we feel a responsibility, because we were trained for those missions. I... I don't want my whole life to evolve around that one part of me. That small part is the only part that will ever be satisfied with just adrenaline. The other part needs the house, the traveling, the concerts... the anniversaries... You understand what I mean? Where I'm coming from?"

Heero slowly nodded.

"Well, that is my dilemma. For which there is no easy fix..." I stroked my thumb back and forth on the back of his hand, in hopes of comforting him. It was a lot of information and feelings for him to take in all of a sudden. I could discern a certain detachment on his features, the only way he knew how to deal with all of this. "I've been trying to hide it from you, because I didn't want to confuse you. But I had to tell you, you are my boyfriend, I'm supposed to tell you these things. Because it helps."

He looked up at me and with slightly hoarse voice he wondered: "It does?"

I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, even if all you can do is listen, it helps."

He looked extremely uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. His hands became sweaty and he started a persistent tugging, trying to free them out of my grip.

"What's wrong?" I asked concerned.

"I'm not sure about the parts of me." He admitted. "That part you described, the one that can't live on adrenaline alone... I don't know if I have it. I think I have it, but I can't be sure. Every part of me other than the adrenaline part just... hurts... and makes me scared."

"Scared?"

He looked away, frustrated with himself. "I can't explain it. It's just what I feel."

"Okay. Okay." I was understanding of his pain. He had been through so much, it seemed only logical that he had shut out every part of himself that wasn't critical for survival. He had shut it out for so long that everything else about him had been tainted by the hurt and suffering he underwent as a young child and teenager. Having to open up to all of that again, couldn't be an easy task. I wished there was something I could do or say, to comfort him and to assure him that one day the pain will go away and he'll be safe to embrace those others parts of him. But there were no words or deeds. In this he was on his own. I only hoped that he wouldn't give up.

After dinner we parted, we both needed to be alone with our thoughts. Dinner had been quite emotional, even though Heero didn't show much, didn't open himself up much.

With nothing else to do to pretend I wasn't mulling, I disappeared into the little laundry room and tried to occupy myself there with my chore. Unfortunately the mindless process could not keep my thoughts from straying. I was struck with a sense of mental exhaustion. I was exhausted trying to get Heero to open up to those other parts of himself, while Heero only seemed to work to eradicate them, burying them under a sense of duty. I didn't know what he was thinking, how on earth he could have figured that that would be the best way to deal with things. Maybe he believed that once everything else would be locked away, the part of him he could stand, the distant soldier part, would evolve and grow to want the same things I wanted. But I knew better than that, he was threatening to give into something that was longing to consume him. It wouldn't let him rest, it would send him on mission after mission, in an endless search for a sense of belonging and righteousness, that would justify the heartache of his training. But there would never be anything in the battlefield that would bring him peace. It is not in the nature of a battlefield to provide peace and answers. Battlefield were strewn only with turmoil and more questions.

I could understand his desire to want to go after the Ethiopian president, as Une said, it might alleviate some guilt. Unlike her though, I wasn't so sure if he'll be able to stop at that. In Heero's eyes he had a lifetime of mistakes to rectify.

I leaned back against the wall, rubbing my fingers into my tired eyes. I felt like crying. Never before did I feel so fucked up as I did at that moment. I seethed with hatred, hatred for J. A deep and dark hatred because he stripped and destroyed Heero and consequently he had destroyed me. Heero was the only thing in the world that could truly make me happy, but J had made him so he was also the only thing in the world that could make me feel like this; lost.

I quietly retreated to the bedroom. Heero joined me there an hour later, but I pretended to be asleep, wishing I was, because I was so, so tired.

The short night didn't offer me much rest. I tossed and turned in bed till I finally fell asleep. But an hour before the alarm would go off I suddenly woke up in a cold sweat. I tried to remember the nightmare, but I couldn't, I lost it the moment I woke up and sat up in bed. Of course it was most likely that it involved Heero.

We ran again. Against all odds Heero's knee seemed to be improving under the physical strain he put on it. His gait had evened out, there was no detectable limp in his step. Only when he climbed up the stairs afterward did I notice the stiffness in the joint. If he was in any pain I couldn't tell, he didn't wince anymore when he put his weight on it, but he might have just gotten better at hiding it. There was no way of knowing. If I would ask, he would just claim to be fine, as he always does.

Before I went to work, I suggested that he should come and visit me in the garage, after his session with Nettle that day. I didn't particularly want him to see me work there, but I just needed something, some form of conversation to distract from the awkwardness that had settled between us after last night's shared and unshared feelings.

He said he'd think about it.

I assumed that meant no.

Another train ride, another slow shuffle through the access gates, another MS waiting for me to be recalibrated.

"Good morning." Landon greeted me.

"Good morning." I returned halfheartedly.

"Wow, I don't know if we know each other long enough for me to be allowed to say this, but... you look like crap." Landon candidly observed.

"Didn't get much sleep last night."

Landon winked. "Gotcha, trouble with the misses."

I didn't know how he came to that conclusion, but he wasn't far off. "Actually," I started, before he walked away, "there is no misses." I paused momentarily with hesitation and then finished: "There is a mister."

Landon raised his eyebrows, but surprised me with a smile. "Cool. Good luck today, Grid One." He walked off to his own MS with a wave.

"Cool." I repeatedly oddly once he was out of hearing distance. "Cool?" I shrugged it off. After that twisted high school I had grown way too used to bigotry and homophobia. I climbed into the cockpit and started my day of repetitive work.

During lunch break I had expected Landon to be awkward, or at least display inappropriate curiosity about my admitted lifestyle, but he didn't comment on the fact once and seemed no different from yesterday, being quick to invite me on his team for a game of basketball. I liked his lack of prejudice and discomfort, still seeing me as the guy he had gotten to know yesterday: good mechanic, good basketball player. I discovered a maturity in him that I didn't give him credit for yesterday.

We walked back to our grid once the lunch break was over. As we neared the Mobile Suits, I could see a slim figure standing by them, looking at them with expected scrutiny. I felt a wave of relief as I recognized Heero. I was glad he came, I felt like it was an important step in getting over the awkwardness. Moreover, I hadn't expected him to come, it was so unlike him to just visit. It sparked hope.

"Heero." I said with a big smile as I walked up to him. Landon casually walked past us to his MS but he twirled around behind Heero's back and showed me a stupid grin and a thumbs up.

"You asked me to come." He explained at my surprised tone, he looked over his shoulder with a critical frown, watching Landon go. Obviously he had caught on that Landon did something behind his back, but he didn't voice any questions.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm glad you did." I patted the steel panel on the side of the Leo's leg. "So, do you like my office." I gestured around us.

"It's spacious." Heero commented dryly. "But it reeks."

I smiled as I got the idea that he was making an attempt at a lighthearted joke. "Yeah, that mixture of gasoline and kerosene is quite pungent."

Heero ignored me and pointed at the raised platform the MS rested on. "Why is it on wheels?"

I chuckled. "Oh, we're not allowed to operate them, so once we're done with them and electronic system rolls them onto the platform elevator."

He raised an eyebrow. "You are not allowed to pilot a Leo?"

I shrugged. It was a little weird, but I wasn't insulted and I didn't exactly crave to pilot a Leo, or a Taurus for that matter, they were nothing compared to Death Scythe, it would just be bitter sweet. "Do you want to hop into the cockpit?"

He looked up at the open hatch briefly and then said: "Sure."

I climbed up onto the stomach of the machine and Heero followed me. I sat on the outer edge of the cockpit, my feet dangling in and Heero climbed inside, seating himself. He studied the screens and switches. "How does it feel?" I ask, leaning over to look down at him.

"Smaller." He answered decisively.

"Miss it?" I continued more seriously.

"Piloting a Leo? No." He said with a soft snort.

I chuckled. "Yeah, it's not the same..."

"I hated these things." Heero commented. "More so when I was in one, than fighting against one. The controls are stiff and delayed. The limbs are terribly inflexible. Every movement is sluggish. You could fit the Tallgeese in it's blind spot. And it took forever to get some of them started."

I nodded. "We're working on that last point."

With a sigh he climbed out of the cockpit and sat on the hull across from me.

"How did it go with Nettle?"

"Fine."

"Did you tell her about what we talked about last night?"

"I really don't feel like talking anymore right now." He got up and jumped off the Leo.

I scrambled over to the edge to look at him.

"I'll see you at home." He said and he walked.

"Bye!" I called after him, he didn't turn back or even look over his shoulder. With a groan I turned over I lay down on my back, looking up at the large lights suspended from the ceiling. I was startled when suddenly someone climbed up onto the Leo right next to me. I sat up and frowned at Landon's grin.

"So that was the mister?" He asked.

"The one and only."

He nodded appreciatively. "Yeah, if I was gay I'd tap that ass too."

"Shut up!" I warned him, but my face broke into a stupid smirk regardless. I looked back but Heero was already out of sight. "You just get back to work."

"Right back at ya." He walked over to the feet of my Leo, from where he could climb onto the head of his own and make his back to the cockpit.

As I continued work on the Leo's, I thought a lot about the job in itself and the opportunities and the limitations that it represented. I felt like such an indecisive asshole, but I really didn't want to continue to do this. I tried to imagine what it would be like to do this everyday, for the rest of my life. It honestly scared me. Even Landon himself had confided in me that the job was actually mostly uneventful and that he had been grateful for the malfunction in the Leo's boot-up procedure, as it gave them a more significant task to occupy their time with. Normally, the regular day consisted of keeping the delicate systems dust free, systematically testing the controls of all the Mobile Suits in an endless loop, and replacing rusty panels as the bunker that stored them had suffered a leak a few months prior.

I realized that my transfer had made no actual change at all. The size of everything may have been upgraded in comparison to what I did previously, in Grid One, but was still repetitive, unchallenging work and after the second day it became difficult to discern between the two jobs, Grid One versus Grid Five. The only substantial difference being the friendliness of it's employees, but I didn't join the Preventers to make friends.

After work, instead of going home directly and send Une another unenthusiastic email, I opted for the personal approach. I said goodbye to Landon and circled around the building to the main entry. The fresh air in the lobby was a relief and contrast to the smothering heat outside. The full brunt of the summer was nearing and each day the whole atmosphere just seemed to become thicker and hotter and more humid.

"Hello, how can I help you?" The receptionist asked me as I approached her desk. She eyed me up and down in dismay and I realized the process might have been aided if I had changed out of my overall, not that it was dirty, in most ways my work of the day could be compared to sitting at a desk typing away at a computer.

"Yeah, I was wondering if I could see Lady Une for a moment."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but I'm sure she'll meet me."

"What is your name?"

"Duo Maxwell."

With a sigh she rolled her desk chair over to the telephone and pressed one of the speed dials. She offered me a forced smile, tapping her long fingernails on the desk as she waited for her call to be answered. "Hi, Joseph? Is miss Une still at the office?" There was a pause. "She just got out of a meeting? Do you know if she has some time available?"

I rolled my eyes, why was she beating around the bush, just tell the damn assistant who was here.

"Yes, I have a Don Maxwell here for her."

"Duo." I corrected, "Du-o."

"Right, I'm sorry," She said unapologetically, "a Du-o Maxwell... Oh? Okay. Yes, thank you." She hung up the phone and turned to me with dead eyes. "Hand me your employee access card."

I obediently produced the card from the depths of my pocket and reached over the high reception desk to give it to her.

Without saying anything, not even looking at me, she rolled her chair to another station in her circular desk. I walked around, following her. She put the card into a device and worked briefly on her computer. Soon she handed the card back to me. "Miss Une is expecting you. I've upgraded your card for single access to the control floor, Miss Une's assistant will be waiting for you at the elevators. Just swipe your card in front of the blue light in the elevator and it will take you to the desired floor automatically."

"Thanks." I didn't bother informing her that I was well aware of the procedure. I stepped into one of several elevators and swiped my card.

Joseph was indeed waiting for me, impatient as ever, even very unsubtly looking at his watch as I emerged from the elevator. He stormed in the direction of the command center and I followed him.

I was feeling a little bit nervous. I felt like I had disappointed her. She had been so kind and accommodating and I kept changing my mind. I wasn't being very grateful, but I saw no point in doing a job just to show someone my gratitude.

"Hey there. Working late?" I said as I found her behind her desk, delved into another tall stack of folders once Joseph had wordlessly deposited me at her door.

"Duo." She greeted with a smile and looked down at her watch. "It's actually still early for me. Come in."

"I'm sorry to bother you again."

"Not at all, not at all. Don't worry about it. How do you like your re-assignment?" Her eyes beamed but as she recognized the discontentment on my features she went: "Oh..."

"I'm sorry." I breathed and dropped down in one of the chairs opposite of her. "I just can't seem to find my place." The frustration was obvious in both my face and my voice.

"Duo, I don't mean to discourage you, but I must be honest, working as an MS mechanic seems to be the best thing I can offer you if you still refuse to become an agent."

"I was worried you would say that. I've been fearing the same thing myself."

"I'm sorry." She said genuinely. She looked away in thought briefly. "I can make some calls, see if any of the supervisors in other departments have an idea but... nothing comes to mind."

"I know. I'm really sorry about this. I wish I had a clearer idea myself but it's all so confusing and so much. Sometimes I feel like I've been thinking about Heero so much, my brain just doesn't have any energy left to sustain any different way of thinking. I'm stuck." I sat back and threw my arms in the air, frustrated.

"I know what you mean..." She trailed off, looking pointedly at the many folders. "The day crew has already left for the weekend, but I'll arrange a meeting Monday morning with some of the department heads, see if we can figure something out for you and maybe Heero too. I have to be honest, I may run this place on behalf of the director, but I don't know of every possible function in the agency." She offered me a smile that was meant to be encouraging, but I just felt bad for making her go through all that trouble.

"I really don't want to be a bother. You're busy as it is."

"It won't cost me much time." She assured me. "I'll just get them together, throw the idea on the table and have them figure it out. Their thoughts are much less dispersed and preoccupied than mine, they'll be able to give the issue better focus. I'll make sure they know of all of your talents, so you won't be wasted."

I didn't know what to say, I was moved by her generosity. "Thank you... Thank you so much."

"No problem. So I guess I should tell the coordinator that you won't be coming back Monday?"

"I could, but I'd rather not, I don't want to get too involved knowing that however things turn out, I won't be staying long." It did cross my mind to stop by briefly to personally inform Landon of my decision. We didn't know each other well, nor did we know each other long, but it just seemed appropriate.

"I understand. I'll send him a notification."

I rose and we shook hands as we always politely did. "Again, thank you so much... You are amazing."

Une chuckled. "Could you round up some cute, single guys and tell them that?"

I smiled kindly. "I'm pretty sure a lot of people already know."

She seemed relieved and flattered. "Thank you. Have a nice weekend. I'll call you Monday evening."

"Thanks. Don't work too much."

I left her office and found my way back downstairs to the train station and eventually, home. All in a numbed, disinterested haze, watching the landscape pass me by.

"How was work?" Heero inquired upon my entry. He was sitting at the dining room table thoughtfully reading through the menu of our favorite Chinese take-out restaurant. He looked freshly showered, he had probably returned from the gym only shortly before I got home.

I put my bag down by the door and pulled my arms out of the sleeves of the overall, tying them around my waist again. Matter-of-factly, I answered: "I quit."

Heero looked up, unable to hide his perplexity. "You quit?" He verified.

"Yeah." I sat down across from him and took the menu out of his powerless hands, studying it.

My casual approach seemed to confuse Heero. "Why?" He asked.

I sighed and put the menu away. "It wasn't working out. Even that was just too... automatic. It's hard to explain. But I don't want my work to be something that I can do on automatic pilot, you know?"

"What are you going to do now?" He flatly asked.

"I'm not becoming an agent if that's what your thinking." I looked up at him sharply, but it seemed he hadn't been thinking anything, he just looked confused and a little concerned. "Une is going to talk to some department heads Monday, see if they can find a place for me." I said it with a hopeful tone to my voice, but I didn't have much hope at all.

"She is being very helpful." Heero observed.

"Yeah, well, she's a friend." I shrugged. "And she probably still wants me to join as an agent."

"You think she's just humoring you?"

I shook my head. "But I think she would like me to change my mind, become an agent after all."

Heero didn't respond, maybe to avoid getting into the same issue as yesterday.

"Let's just order." I said and I stood up to get the phone, effectively bringing the conversation to a definitive end.

The dark of the night settled upon us again, accompanied by it's every lasting quiet. The apartment was so silent, it seemed like my own thoughts were being screamed in my ear. Heero was in front of the television, but he had turned the volume way down, aware of how much I disliked the constant news reels. It was considerate of him, but not exactly what I wanted. As he grew stronger physically and mentally even more determined to fix his mistake, I prepared myself for the inevitable; at least one upcoming mission. But I didn't want to admit to Heero that I was caving to his perseverance, so I secretively did some research on the matter behind my computer. A quick search yielded convincing results. It was clear action needed to be taken and yet a part of me - the part that wants the house and the other mundane fruits of life - resented him for making me do this. Even though he wasn't making me do anything, it had been my own decision to offer to come with him, but he left me no other choice.

I jumped up when Heero was suddenly standing in the doorway to our office, calling out my name. The living room beyond him was pitch black. The screen of my laptop was turned away from him but still I couldn't fight my hand reaching up and tilting the screen down to the keyboard a little. Not wanting to make myself look anymore suspicious, I casually tried: "Yeah, buddy?" I cringed at the awfully misplaced term.

"I'm going to bed."

"Oh, okay. Go right ahead, this won't take long." I assured him, knowing that however stealthy I was, I would wake him when I would go into the bedroom.

He nodded and disappeared from sight.

I sat at my desk with my shoulders slumped for a little while, then I closed the screen of the laptop all the way and the light on the side changed from blue to red as it switched to stand-by. I shut off all the lights in the office and then headed towards the bedroom. The door was ajar and warm orange light poured out. Apparently Heero hadn't gone to sleep yet. I swung the door open and was taken aback by the sight that was revealed to me. Heero had again chosen to rest, face down, on my bed rather than his and had switched on the small light on my headboard. A soft glow settled on his skin, he was entirely undressed, not even wearing underwear. He turned his head, the pillowcase rustling with the movement, to look back at me. My eyes traveled up his long legs, over the curve of his ass and across his defined back to his brilliant blue eyes staring at me.

"Heero..." I whispered. It was obvious what was being offered to me - he had even already put the lube and a condom on the mattress next to him-, I just didn't understand why he was offering. Our relationship had been lacking the carefully constructed closeness for the past few days and I found this to be an odd and abrupt way to recapture it, though I couldn't deny that at the sight of him my fingers instantly ached to caress his skin.

He raised himself up on his elbows, looking at me over his shoulder. He didn't offer any explanation more elaborate than: "I want you to make love to me again."

Any attempted effort to resist would be hopeless, I already felt my feet taking me over to the foot of the bed. I toed off my shoes and crawled over him, straddling his thighs. After the shower I had taken earlier that evening, I had changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt and immediately decided to rid myself of the T-shirt when my body quickly grew hot. More in awe of him than sexually aroused, I massaged him first. Starting at his shoulders and then moving down to his sides.

Heero rested his head back on the pillow with a sigh.

My hands moves lower, firmly dragging down his sides, my touch grew more demanding in a sensual way as I began to experience a shift in demeanor myself. I leaned forward, my spine curving, and I placed a light, almost reverent kiss on the small of his back. Just touching his skin and hearing him breathe was enough to make me want more of him; to make me want all of him. I moved my hands further down and lightly let my fingers explore his buttocks. I smiled when the feather light touched drew shivers out of him. "I've missed touching you." I whispered against his skin, followed by a breathy chuckle. I hoped that he understood that I wasn't only referring to the sexual. I dragged my tongue all the way up his spine before moving over to nibble gently on his earlobe and then spent a long time kissing his neck as my fingers lightly teased him below. "Are you sure?" I asked, even as I sincerely hoped he would not back out as my whole body felt alight with flames.

"Yes." He moaned, burying his face in the pillow.

I suddenly realized why he had chosen for this position. Not only did it settle the top versus bottom debate, most importantly, in this position he would easily be able to hide his face. But at that juncture I couldn't let that deter me, I wouldn't let it. I pushed all thoughts away that might lead to a difficult conversation. I sat up, on my knees, between his slightly spread legs and firmly took hold of his hips, pulling him up on all fours. I pushed down my pants just far enough and heavily leaned into him when I reached over for the lube and condom.

As I prepared both of us, I was struck with an unwelcome feeling, that we weren't about to make love, but that we were merely going to have sex. We both seemed to be fighting against every emotion and every thought which are normally necessary to transcend the mere sexual aspect. It felt like a strange physical act after the awkwardness and the confusing emotions of the past few days that seemed to occupy us both. I pushed the thought away, I wasn't about to engage into a serious discussion because of a feeling that may turn out completely unjust. Maybe in our relationship we just had to think less, or me at least. I fussed over every little detail and I could feel that it wasn't doing me any favors, each night when I tossed and turned in bed.

I took hold of his hips again and released a throaty moan as I pushed into him. I could see Heero gripping his long fingers around the sheets and he let out a shaky breath. I leaned over and kissed his ear and one of my hands disappeared between his thighs to distract him from the initial pain. "Are you okay?"

A soft, trembling moan was Heero's only response but I took it as an affirmative answer.

We quickly lost ourselves to a steadily building rhythm. Heero gripped the sheets tighter and started to moan with each thrust as I seemed to have found an angle that was particularly satisfactory to him. He had yelped when I discovered it. I was enthralled by the sight of myself disappearing into him and was somewhat taken aback by the double meaning of that. More thoughts were purposefully neglected.

My hand ran up his strong back, his skin was slick and aglow with a smooth sheen of sweat, my fingers played with the frayed hairs at the nape of his neck. It bothered me that I could not see his face, again. Heero was - stubbornly, I imagine - looking down at the pillow, or maybe at his fists nearly ripping the sheets. Even in the throws of passion it worried me that he was so adamant at keeping his face hidden and decided, that rather than being understanding once more, to push him out of his comfort zone.

My hand slipped from his neck to his shoulder, grabbing it firmly, my fingers digging into the flesh. The first tug was more encouraging than physically pulling him up, I was hoping he would take the hint and sit up on his own accord, but either he didn't notice or he chose to ignore it. I adjusted my grip, strengthening it and pulled him up, my hand shifting to wrap my arm over his shoulder and across his chest as I pulled him against my chest. I kissed his other, exposed shoulder and trailed kisses up to his ear, which I teased with my tongue, effortfully slowing the movements of my hips.

Heero turned his head to the other side, avoiding me. One of his hands grabbed my wrist over his chest and the other covered my splayed hand high up on his thigh, like he was trying to get a hold of me. Maybe he was afraid that I would stop if I didn't get from him what I wanted; something he was reluctant to give.

"Turn your head." I whispered into his ear, my lips brushing the outer shell. "Look at me."

"Nn no." He replied with almost a plead and twisted his head even further away.

I stopped moving all together, just holding him tightly against me. I wasn't any longer preoccupied with my own satisfaction and lust, I was more curious and also worried. There it was again, worry. Always worried. Through my arm across his chest, I could feel the wild beating of his heart and every sharp intake of breath. "Please look at me." I repeated. "I want to see your face."

"No." He meekly said in return again. "No. It's embarrassing."

It was one of the possibilities I had expected and I greatly preferred it to the other: that it wasn't so much a problem of me looking at him, but rather of him looking at me. I was relieved that at least one of my major worries - my boyfriend doesn't want to look at me when we make love - didn't become true. "Don't be embarrassed. It's hot. I want to see your beautiful face; your expressions; your reactions."

Heero remained completely still, his head hanging to the other side.

Quite ready for us to continue and find our release, I moved the hand that was on his chest. With lingering fingers Heero eventually let go of the wrist and allowed me to move it up to his face and take gentle hold of his chin. With careful, gentle pressure to which there was little resistance, I urged him to face me. I leaned my head over his shoulder and finally Heero looked back at me, his big blue eyes unsure. My hand buried itself in the pandemonium of Heero's dark hair. I kissed his mouth, shallow explorations with my tongue, focusing mostly on his soft, open lips. He responded timidly, but favorably, his tongue darting out to meet mine. Eventually, the kiss naturally deepened and we fervently kissed till our lungs burned.

"Hmmm. Ready?" I wrapped my other arm around his waist and both of Heero's hands moved to take hold of it.

He barely nodded.

I started slowly, focusing my eyes on his face as I made long, deep, leisure thrusts. Aside from a concentrated frown, Heero's face was impassive, he was fighting every expression of pleasure, still too embarrassed, but I was cockily confidant that he would give in eventually. And I was right. As I picked up the pace, Heero opened his mouth to emit short pants and his eyebrows started to relax. His deep blue eyes peered at me from underneath lowered lids. When I moved my hand out of his hair, assured that he wouldn't turn his head away, and lightly touched the palm to the tip of his erection, his eyes slid closed and he let out the softest moan.

"Keep looking at me." I beckoned and a jolt of electricity went through me when his passion clouded eyes settled on me again, peering from underneath thick, black eyelashes.

When I managed to find the right angle where each inward thrust touched his prostate, the stimulation of which he seemed to thoroughly enjoy, Heero couldn't be bound by his inhibitions any longer. The building pressure that we both felt, bringing us closer and closer to orgasm, had his features succumbing to the pleasure as his lips spilt passionate moans.

He looked beautiful. Sensual.

This time it would be my bed to be soiled as with a couple of accompanying strokes of his arousal Heero came on my sheets. I followed him into the state of bliss shortly after.

Exhausted and no doubt overwhelmed, Heero leaned back on all fours when I let go of him. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. He waited for me to pull out of him, hissing as I did.

I tied the end of the condom but my legs weren't steady enough to carry me to the bathroom to dispose of it in the nearest trash bin, so I youthfully thought "To hell with it" and dropped it onto my T-shirt that was on the ground. It was better to stain a cheap T-shirt that could either be washed or discarded, than the carpet. I rolled onto Heero's bed and pulled him along with me. My sweatpants were still low around my thighs but I simply didn't have the energy to go through the process of taking them off.

"Are you okay?" I asked. It had only been his second time, so maybe I should have paused to stretch him with my fingers first, as I did the first time.

"Hnn." He groaned sleepily, making me chuckle.

I held him close to my chest and grinned when I noticed the glistening stains on my sheets in the orange light of the small lamp. I looked down at his face, his eyes were closed, his features were relaxed, he looked peaceful. And I wondered, though maybe I shouldn't have wondered aloud: "Heero, do you only like to have sex with me because it makes you forget temporarily?"

His eyes opened, they were unreadable, but his face no longer looked peaceful.

"Never mind." I quickly said. I shouldn't have asked, I shouldn't have asked a question to which a possible - likely - answer was one that made my heart ache as it did now. "Never mind. Forget it." I wrapped my arms around him even tighter. Maybe it was my own fault, maybe I had let the sex happen too quickly between us. If he wasn't ready for all the emotional and physical aspects of love making that I want him to enjoy, than it seemed only natural he would focus on the one pay-off of it that he understood and desired. I shook my head, burying my face in his soft hair, I shouldn't think about it, I should just forget it. I shouldn't have asked.

"Duo, I love you." He firmly said, his breath spreading across my bare chest, realizing his error.

"I know." And I did, I really did. I knew it didn't mean that he loved me less, but it was still painful. There was only love and everything else was so twisted and fucked up that love and heartache constantly fought in my chest. But there was another truth, one that settled the argument even though heartache was winning: "I love you too. So much."

Needless to say, the atmosphere spanning the length of the weekend was loaded. Heero was aware that his inability to immediately dismiss my answer as ridiculous and it was clear that he struggled with it and felt extremely guilty. Whereas I was just trying to forget that it ever happened. An effort that was of course in vain. I knew I wasn't expecting too much of this relationship, but I expected things too soon. There were a lot of things Heero wasn't ready for, it showed on his face each time he avoided an emotional issue, I could see him withdrawing into himself, pulling up shields and barriers. I don't think he purposefully shut me out, he was just trained so well to protect himself from pain that the process was instinctual. Each time I inched closer inside him I set off a landmine that hurt us both and all he could do to spare himself of that pain in the future, was to erect tall walls. Leaving me only shallowly inside. He was trying, but it took him considerably more effort to take down a wall brick by brick than to build one.

But I had faith in him, there was no other option for me, I had to have faith in him or else I would be lost. Over the course of the last few months, Heero had been making such great progress, I shouldn't let these last few set-backs deter me. I hoped they didn't deter him. I hoped he was still as devoted as I was to take down those walls, brick by heavy brick and even though it would be hard and it would be painful, at least we would get closer and closer still. He needed to open up to his emotions, even the hurtful ones, because beyond them was the possibility of happiness, and a true closeness of body and spirit that I yearned for us to share.

When he went away for his session with Nettle come Monday I cleaned the apartment in his absence, dusting off all the empty bookshelves and other surfaces. I longed for pictures of happy memories and being confronted with the emptiness of our home - maybe just a house - was hurtful but I couldn't expect Heero to burst through barriers and simultaneously neglect to do so myself. Besides, I desperately needed means to occupy myself. Every so often my gaze would dart to the phone on the wall by the front door. I knew Une wouldn't call till later that day, till evening, but each time my ears tricked me into hearing the familiar ring, whenever I turned on the vacuum cleaner or put a plate loudly in it's place in the cupboard.

My life needed more purpose than fussing over Heero could bring me and I knew me having something else to focus on would thankfully ease the pressure currently put on both of us. I had no idea what to expect of this "new purpose", I didn't think I should expect too much of it at all, I just knew that it was necessary. I was losing myself and I can't help Heero find himself if I don't even have a clue where the true me has gone. Over the course of a few short, though mostly blessed months, I've gone from a warrior to a worrier. It was time to find a comfortable middle ground.

I was working in the kitchen, doing the dishes from last night's dinner, when the front door opened. I walked over to greet him in normal fashion. "Hey." I rubbed a cup dry in the dishtowel in my hands.

"Hey." He responded. His face looked hesitant and apologetic and his eyes quickly moved to the floor to avoid mine.

His behavior immediately alerted me. I remained in the kitchen, not wanting to impose myself on him. With soft sounds and slow movements I put the cup away, allowing him some time. I closed the cupboard and turned to see him have neared the coffee table. He had something in his hand, something small, his fist clenched around it. "What's wrong? Did it go okay with Nettle?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral though my curiosity had piqued.

He didn't say anything. His hand moved. Whatever he was holding, it rattled as it was turned. He put his hand down on the surface of the dinner table, spread his fingers and retreated his hand. He finally looked up at me, but this time I didn't look at him.

My eyes were drawn to the object he had deposited on the table. It was a small, white box, only about four inches tall. I couldn't possibly read any of the small lettering, but it was the kind of box you just recognize. It was the kind of box the pharmacist packaged their pill bottles with. "What's this?" I asked, resorting to my play-dumb strategy.

"Nettle gave it to me." His eyes were fixed on me now, intently, but my face was too dumbstruck blank to reveal any information.

I walked up to the table and draped the dish towel over the back of one of the chairs. I leaned over, looking at him briefly, and reached for the small box. Its contents rattled again. I brought it close to my face. A sticker was wrapped around one of the corners and read Heero's name. On one of the other sides, vertically printed on the box itself, was the pharmaceutical name, one I could read but would probably have some difficulty pronouncing. PROTRIPTYLINE++. And underneath: A New Generation Tricyclic Anti-Depressant. With wide eyes I looked up at Heero. "It's an anti-depressant." I said stunned, as if he didn't know that already.

Heero looked uncomfortable, his eyes shifted between my face and the box in my hand.

I frowned, beginning to feel the fraying edges of anger. "She thinks you need an anti-depressant?" I said "anti-depressant" as if it was the most disgusting, offensive thing in the world. And to me it was. How dare she prescribe this to Heero? I already blamed her for failing the challenge of talking to Heero and instead resorting to the easy "solution". My anger only increased when I remembered warning Une not to let that shrink pull stunts like this. We stood amidst the headstones of bravely passed soldiers and agents and I told her not to let Nettle give Heero signs like this, not to make him question himself like this. I felt like the trust I had put in her that day was violated, but my anger only lingered with Une briefly, before returning to Nettle. That damn woman. I plucked the lid of the box open and turned it upside down. With a few shakes the orange bottle with white pills dropped down onto the table and a shake later a substantial information brochure followed.

I was completely blown away by this turn of events. Glaring at the offensive bottle on the table was all I could do to stop myself from flushing each and every pill down the toilet and ripping that brochure with tiny, tiny lettering to pieces. How could Nettle possibly think that this is the solution to Heero's problem? He has to feel more, he has to open himself up to feelings! Now she is prescribing him drugs to numb and bury what little feelings he has allowed to surface? I couldn't fathom how this could be a good idea. It seemed simple enough, Heero is hurting, his emotions hurt him and like the doctor that she is, she gives medication for the hurt. However, this is like treating a bullet wound with a shot of morphine and a band-aid! As soon as the morphine wears off, it starts hurting again and then you would have to give more morphine, more morphine, ever more morphine, to numb everything, maybe even give the patient a nice feeling. Meanwhile, beneath the surface, the bullet is still slowly killing him. To cure him, actually cure him, you have to extend the wound, open it up, however painful that is, extract the bullet and expose everything that has been damaged, so you can fix it one by one.

Heero's damage, though not physical, is much like this. Those painful memories won't go away, the drugs will only hide them, hide them so well he'll never want to stop taking those pills, he'll never want to feel them again. But in order to deal with them and to get rid of them, he has to feel them, he has to confront them and find his peace with them. I thought this is what we had been working towards all this time, one step at a time, one wall at a time. The look in Heero's eyes was like a slap in my face. I could tell, I could tell from just briefly looking at him that he didn't feel as strongly about the drugs in a negative way as I did.

His meek comment confirmed my sickening suspicion. "Maybe they can help. She said they could help."

"Yeah, well, of course she says that! Makes her job a hell of a lot easier, doesn't it?" I spat. "How can you believe this bullshit? You can't honestly think that popping a pill will make all your troubles go away!" I was getting angry at him, I couldn't help it. Nettle wasn't hear to scream at but I needed an outlet and the more angry I got with him, the more I felt he deserved it. He should have never taken that damn bottle with him, into our home. He should have given Nettle the same mouthful as I surely would have given her and he should have walked away.

"But what if they can help?" He argued. It seemed he was getting impatient with me as I did with him.

"How can this possibly help? You want to bury yourself? You want to numb yourself? I understand the benefits of these drugs to other people, to people with depression. But you are not depressed, you are having a hard time and you are looking for the easy way out."

"What if I am depressed?" He challenged.

"In your case I'd say that's a good thing, at least that means you are capable of feeling something real, something deep." I lashed out, glaring at the hurt expression on his face, trying to be immune to it. "You can't even cry. You have to shoot your own partner in the head and you can't even cry, not when you do it, not when you talk about it, not when you visit his grave... You tell me about those puppies, as part of your training, I was crying, but you were holding everything back, like you always do! You don't need this this," I pointed angrily at the bottle, "the Soldier is doing a fine job suppressing everything on his own and I don't think it's a good idea for you to aid him in that process! If you let him do this, if you help him do this, where will that leave you? You won't even be yourself, you'll just be a numbed, drugged up, fake version of who you think you should be!"

He was taken aback by my biting words, he literally took a step back.

I didn't know where all this anger and hurt came from. But I resented him for betraying me and for betraying us. We've been working so hard, together, I thought that would be enough, I thought he would think so too. Now he's trying to escape from it all. And I realize he has been trying all along. He doesn't want to feel, I want him to feel, because I know that only then will he truly be himself, will he truly be a complete and full person. I needed him to be that person, because I needed him to complete me, as only he could. But Heero just wants to forget and in his efforts he has been chipping away at himself. These pills were the final straw for me. If he would take them, I didn't know where that would leave us, I only knew that it would leave us facing in completely opposite directions.

I continued, feeling hurt overwhelm the anger: "I thought you knew by now that getting drugged up, getting drunk and getting laid," I paused briefly to swallow a lump in my throat, "aren't solutions. The feelings and the memories are always going to come back and they are always going to have this devastating effect on you if you don't work to understand and accept them!" I raised my voice as if that would make him understand me better.

Heero suddenly snapped back at me, his face hateful, his fists balled: "Don't you understand? I did so many horrible things and now I have to live with those for the rest of my life! I wasn't supposed to live long enough to see peace. I wasn't supposed to live long enough to see myself! But I got selfish, I wanted to survive. I didn't know it was going to hurt this much!"

I blinked, as the only perplexed reaction to his outburst.

"I just want to hate myself a little less! Maybe then I'll be able to be normal! When it stops hurting like this!"

A tremble just went through me and instead of feeling sympathetic towards him, which maybe I should have been, I only felt enraged, a rage fuelled by my hurt. I screamed back at him: "Don't you think I hurt too? I have a past too, but I dealt with it! And I know that hurts but at least I didn't chicken out and take the easy escape! And do you think it has been easy for me? Seeing you like this? Seeing you struggle and hurt, only to retreat back into yourself, away from me?"

Heero didn't say anything.

"I don't love you any less." I continued, my voice a little softer, but still filled with painful emotions. "I will never stop loving you. But sometimes I'm afraid this love isn't enough, it's not enough when there is no openness, when you keep distancing yourself, then this love is just... painful." I let out a shaky breath, all of the worries and feelings that had been haunting me for months now, flooded me. The exhaustion of having to take care of him and worry about him constantly, crippled me. "Every day I love you, everyday I am with you, is hard for me. You make it hard."

Heero looked hurt, with a deep, confused frown. He looked away, he couldn't look at me anymore. He probably didn't understand what was going on, he was probably shocked. He left Nettle feeling like he would be cured and now we stood across from each other, only injuring each other further.

"I didn't mean..." I tried. What didn't I mean? "I love you, but it's hard. It weighs on me. Sometimes so heavily that I feel like I'm breaking and becoming someone I'm not."

Heero suddenly looked at me, challenging: "Then why are you still with me?"

"Because I can't be complete without you." I sighed. "But this is not what I wanted. This isn't what I want our relationship to be like. I can't handle this distance you keep. It's difficult to be this close and see you holding back and withdrawing yourself from me."

"I'm not withdrawing..."

"Yes you are." I snapped. "When you don't cry, even when you - should - want to. When you want to flee to a mission. When you don't want me to see your face when we make love. When you want to take pills. That's withdrawing."

"I'm trying to be different. I'm trying to be normal."

"I don't want you to be normal Heero. I want you to be yourself. And you can't be normal and be yourself, your life has been too screwed up for that, as mine has been."

Heero stood there silently.

Recognizing that the discussion was over, I made use of the opportunity, reaching for the pills. "I'm going to bring this back to Nettle." I said decisively. I stuffed the extensive paper with warnings and information in one of my jeans pockets and the bottle in the other. I took a step towards the door, but then Heero called:

"Wait!"

I turned around and glared at his hesitant face.

He bit his lip nervously and then said: "Can't we just give the pills a try?"

I started to fume again. I dug my hand into my pocket and retrieved the bottle. "After all that, you still want this?"

His face was sad, incredibly sad and defeated. "You are right. I can't open up. I just can't, everything hurts too much and I can't stop myself from shutting it back out. I can't even cry. If I can't do these things anyway, why not take the drugs? At least then it won't constantly hurt anymore. And maybe then we can just be happy together." His voice died down to a mere whisper. "Why can't we just give it a try?"

"Because these pills may numb your hurt, they won't numb mine. And I don't want you to be anyone other than yourself. I can't be with you if you're not yourself." My breath hitched at that. "I love you." I emphasized the last word. "I can't love your shadow." Something warm rolled down my cheek and when it reached my lips I tasted salt. I stepped back towards the table and softly put down the bottle. "If you want them so much, by all means, take them. But I'm not going to stay here and watch you give in to the Soldier... and J." I looked at his face one last time. Sad but tearless.

I walked away, out of the apartment. "Please don't leave-" I heard Heero say, but I ignored him and closed the door behind me.


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Chapter 35

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