Perfect Part 14
Duo curled in a chair by the window, leaning wearily against the sill to watch the sputtering mist/rain falling outside. He had pulled one of the satin sheets off the bed and had it wrapped around him like a pareo.
Heero opened the door silently and stood for a moment, watching him. He heard singing, maybe from the headphones of Duo's player. Then he realized that Duo was singing very softly to himself. He listened hard but didn't recognize it as anything he'd heard before.
If I fell in love with you....
would you promise to be true
and help me
understand....
'Cuz I've been in love before....
and I found that love was more....
than just holding hands....
His voice had fallen to barely a whisper when he stopped, resting his head against the glass.
Heero knocked softly on the open door. "May I come in, Duo?"
"Sure," he breathed, not turning.
Heero brought a chair to sit beside him. He hesitated only briefly before he laid his hand over Duo's. "It was not your fault," he murmured firmly.
Duo sighed heavily. "I know." He turned his hand palm up to give Heero a reassuring squeeze. "But it was my responsibility. And I failed in that." He laid his head on his arm, eyes closed. "He was just a kid.... And no one cared...."
"You cared. And the other boy, Snow, he cared."
Duo pushed himself upright. "They were in love. Rose was planning, saving money so they could have a real life. He wanted to take Snow off the streets. I know it wasn't my fault." He pushed his hair back from his face wearily. "You were right, Heero; I really am useless after these missions." He forced a smile. "But I'll be okay in a couple of days. Don't worry about me."
Heero nodded an agreement he didn't share. He drew his hand out of Duo's. "Would you like me to braid your hair?" he asked gently. Duo blinked, reaching back to feel his ragged braid.
"Yes, please. I would like that."
After a few minutes of drawing the brush tenderly through Duo's rich, silken hair, Heero said quietly, "I'd never seen your hair down before that day at the motel. And then when I cleaned you up."
Duo slid his eyes around. "You did that?"
"Yes. You were covered in blood; I had to see what your injuries were."
"Oh." He closed his eyes again.
"You have the most beautiful hair I've ever seen."
Duo made a noise that might have been a snort. "I don't really want to hear that right now. It... it reminds me of... of them."
Heero separated Duo's long hair into thirds. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry, Duo. I'm not doing very well at being human."
Duo frowned. "You're doing fine. Shut up and braid."
"Yes sir." Heero smirked slightly.
"Did Quatre yell at you again?"
"Hn."
"He's so sensitive," Duo grumbled.
"He cares about you. We all care about you. You've been to hell and made it back yet again."
"Yeah. Go me." He felt of his braid when Heero snapped the band onto it. "You're good at this, Heero. Maybe you've got a civilian career in hair ahead of you."
"...."
"Hmmm?"
"I said I don't think so." He sat down again and noticed that Duo's eyes were wet. "Are you all right?"
"No," he whispered, wiping at his eyes. "I am so fucked up...." He hid his face in his hands.
"Duo...." He put his arms around Duo's shoulders, drawing him in protectively. "Let me help," he whispered. "Please let me help."
~*~
Heero sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and listening to Quatre as he detailed the plan he had given birth to. Only a part of his mind registered Quatre's words though. The majority of his thoughts were on Duo, sleeping once again and being watched by Trowa. He'd come down only because Trowa threatened to drug his drink if he didn't get up and move around and act marginally human for at least an hour. Trowa would keep a close watch on Duo; he was fond of him.
"Winner," said Wufei crossly, "what makes you think any of them will accept such help?"
The blond sighed and sat back in his chair. "If only one of those children accepts, it's worth it. It's a life saved. Who knows what that life may amount to?" He leaned forward again and lowered his voice persuasively. "Think of Meiran, Wufei. What might she have accomplished if she had lived?"
Wufei reddened; it was very close to a low blow, but he saw Quatre's point. His wife had been a strong person, an honorable person and a very determined person. She had had drive and stamina and intelligence; she could have lived a magnificent life had she been allowed to fulfill her potential.
And consider Duo. He may have been a street rat as a child, but he certainly wasn't one now. He was an excellent mechanic, a journeyman hacker, an incredible pilot and a dedicated and ferocious fighter. He was perfectly capable of donning a tuxedo and an attitude of courtly sophistication to crash a Romefeller party and chat the night away with their worst enemies. Perhaps some of those pathetic boys and girls could rise above the streets, as well. Quatre was right, but it didn't make the sting of Meiran's name any less wounding. He glanced at Heero. Yuy looked like he was listening, but the Chinese pilot thought he was probably faking it.
That man's mind is upstairs next to Maxwell. I don't know why he bothered to come downstairs at all. It's not like it's a secret anymore. Although...
He considered Heero more closely.
Perhaps he doesn't realize himself. His life has been very unusual; more so than the rest of us...
"Heero."
Heero looked around at Trowa standing at the bottom of the stairs.
"I need you upstairs," said Trowa. "Duo's running a fever. It spiked at 106.4, but I got it down to 104.7."
Heero's chair hit the floor at the same time as his coffee cup, but he was already taking the stairs three at a time. Trowa followed him, as did Quatre and Wufei, but Trowa shut the door on them.
They looked at each other.
"Winner..."
"I don't know... Something's happened. If I could touch him..." he said worriedly.
Heero stroked Duo's flushed and feverish cheek anxiously. Damn it, damn it! I knew something wasn't right! I knew it!
"Heero, there's something else."
"What is it?" he demanded without looking at Trowa.
"He's bleeding."
Heero's breath caught in his lungs. He whipped the sheet back. "SHIT!"
~*~
"Sally, I need the name of a very good physician, who can keep his mouth shut, in the San Diego area. Preferably one familiar with men's sexual health.
"I'd rather not say right now; it has to do with a mission.
"All right. Yes, please.
"Dr. Osmond Dotrice, University Hospital, go to the ER and he'll be waiting for us. No questions. Got it, Sally. Thank you.
"Ummm... It's Duo. I'll let you know how he's doing."
~*~
Trowa drove. Heero cradled Duo in his arms, his face blank, his cobalt eyes colder than ice. Quatre and Wufei sat silently, occasionally glancing at each other or Duo. They avoided looking at Heero.
Quatre had managed to touch Duo's hand as they were putting him into the van. The pain, confusion and fear he found there were more than he felt capable of dealing with, and the swirl of recent memories made him faintly nauseous. He backed hurriedly away from the contact, and raised his barriers. He couldn't help Duo; not now.
Heero let Trowa do the talking; he couldn't trust himself to contain his rage. Dr. Dotrice knew Sally from their medical school days; he was no friend to the Alliance, OZ or Romefeller. Heero stood by the table holding Duo's hand while the doctor examined him, ran a scan and then reviewed the results of both.
"It's perforated," he said bluntly. "Without immediate surgery, he'll die."
Heero raised his head. The doctor stepped back a pace at the raw fury in Heero's eyes. He wondered, not for the first time, what Sally Po had gotten herself into.
"Do it," said Heero. "Now."
~*~
Heero sat next to the bed, eyes closed but not asleep. He listened to the monitors and the machines and Duo's breathing and his heartbeat. No alarms, no glitches, no arrhythmia, no sudden gasps. Nothing to lead him to fear for Duo's life, and yet he did.
The surgery took long enough to worry him, but Dr. Dotrice said it was not as serious as it could have been. They brought him in promptly and the perforation itself was not large. If it had been ignored, though, he could have bled to death or succumbed to a septic infection within a day or two.
A hand fell on his shoulder. "Thank you, Trowa," he said softly.
"You're welcome, Heero, but he is my friend also."
"I know."
Trowa sat down in the other chair. "Heero, how do you feel about him? I mean inside, where no one has ever seen."
"I don't know. He is a friend, a partner, a source of amusement as well as annoyance. He is precious to me.... I like him."
"Do you love him?" The question was gentle.
Heero shook his head. "I have never felt love for anyone. I don't know what this is. I know that if the man who did this to him were not already dead, I would kill him." He looked up at the emerald-eyed pilot, usually so quiet and thoughtful. "You tell me, Trowa; am I in love?"
"Do you want to be?"
Heero almost smiled. Trowa was business as usual again, answering questions with questions. "I don't know."
"Ask me again when you decide that."
~*~
Gently he lifted Duo's head enough to free his hair. He coiled the long tail around his hand before laying it on the pillow above his head.
"Didn't do a very good job of protecting you," he whispered to the unconscious youth. "Don't worry about doing this again. I've already told them we'll handle our own missions after this. Rest well, Duo. I'll be here." He brushed Duo's shaggy bangs back off his forehead, lingering to touch his velvet skin.
Then he lowered the side of the bed and stretched out carefully beside him, his hand resting lightly over Duo's heart. "I'll be here."
TBC...
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