Author: PlaidDragon
Pairings: 1x2, 5+2, 3x4
Warnings: Yaoi, angst, lemon, OOC
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its original characters do not belong to me.
Silence Part 1
Was this the silliest thing he did? Duo wondered, looking at his reflection in the mirror as he smoothed away the wrinkles from his trousers and fluffed his bangs. It didn't matter what he wore or how he looked or what he'd done with his hair this week. Heero couldn't see it. Would never see it.
Heero wasn't here anymore. That's what all the doctors said. The mind, the spirit, the soul of Heero Yuy was long gone. All that remained (because of the foolish stubbornness of his psychologically fragile and emotionally distraught husband; implied, but never spoken, of course [mustn't upset the paying customer!]) was this meager shell.
::Well, fuck them!:: he growled under his breath. ::It's MY meager shell, MY husband, MY lover and the parent of MY son in there, and he's NOT gone!:: He tucked a loose strand of silver behind his ear, poking the end into his thick auburn braid.
::I always thought it was a tall tale, going gray overnight. Joke's on me, isn't it? Again.::
He slipped into the room, pausing a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dimness. He scanned the monitors, noting that everything was normal.
::Normal?! When did that word start describing THIS?!:: An errant tear slipped down his cheek before he could catch it. ::No! Don't start! You'll never stop!::
He swallowed and put on a grin and stepped forward. "Hi, Marissa," he said brightly to the woman who sat next to the bed reading aloud softly. She jumped with a gasp. He always startled her, even when she sat facing the door. She had never actually seen him enter the room; just that sudden husky voice full of smiles and vitality.
She closed the book, catching her breath. "Hello, Mr. Maxwell," she smiled, trying to match his buoyant mood. Of all the family members who came to visit their loved ones, he was the only one who ever really smiled. She didn't understand why or how he could be so happy when the man he loved...
Well. That wasn't any of her business.
"How's your love life, babe?" he grinned. "Still beating the guys off with a stick?"
She blushed in spite of herself. From anyone else... But Duo Maxwell was a flirt; she'd figured that out soon after she took this job. He couldn't help it, any more than he could help breathing, so she didn't mind.
"Same as ever," she replied blithely. "The Prince of Timbuktu got into a fistfight with the King of Romania over me at the royal ball last night, so I went home with Lord Studly!"
"Atta girl!" he laughed, and she was pleased that she'd had such a good comeback waiting.
She marked her place in the book and laid it on the table as she prepared to leave. "There was a bit of activity about an hour ago," she said neutrally. "Doctor Phillippe came."
"Okay. Thanks, Marissa." Duo settled carefully on the bed, stretching out next to Heero and taking up his lax hand. "See you later."
In the hallway, she wiped at her eyes angrily. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why did stuff like this happen to people like that?!
~*~
"Hi, Heero," he murmured softly, caressing his cheek. "Not much news today, but what there is is pretty good," he smiled. "Solo got his brown belt. Wufei is really pleased with him; says he has your discipline. And you'll never believe it! Kid wants to be a cop! Can you imagine that! MY son a cop! I asked him why," he said after a moment of silence. "He said... He said he wanted to stop people... like the man who... who hurt his father..." He swallowed; God, why did he do this to himself? He wiped his eyes and kissed Heero's cheek. "Sorry; I wasn't going to do that."
He snuggled closer to the still figure, running his hand over the wasted muscles, touching, caressing, and just making contact with the man he loved. He ran his fingers through the sable hair, so soft and silky. Heero's eyes were closed; he was torn between wishing they would open so that he could look into their cobalt depths again, and glad not to see the emptiness in them. He laid his head on Heero's shoulder with a sigh.
"The wedding went off without a hitch, although I was sure Hilde was going to do a meltdown when Roxy pretended to lose the ring. I think she would have gone for his throat if they hadn't been in church. But they're officially hitched now, and off on honeymoon. I decided to close down general operations while she's gone. Use the time to catch up on the paperwork and stuff."
He lifted Heero's hand to his lips. The fingers twitched spasmodically as his mouth moved gently over his knuckles. Once upon a time, that tiny movement would have thrown him into an orgy of hope, but it was just an electrical signal in the nerves... Nothing more.
He glanced at the monitors. Yeah, there it was. A tiny tweak of galvanic response.
So, why did he insist on this? Why did he keep Heero tied here like long-dead flowers pressed between the pages of a book? Because he couldn't be sure... After all this time and all of the medical first, second and third opinions, he remembered a brief moment from years before and he clung to hope.
~*~
He'd found it surprising as well as intriguing that the boy strapped to the table was awake when all the monitors said he was still unconscious. Such rigid control of his automatic functions; what incredible training! What a soldier! (What a tempting sight, too, his baser side had purred. That gorgeous body four-cornered like a bad porn scene.) And what a struggle it had been, to break through that rigid control to find the real Heero Yuy...
~*~
::Maybe... Ah, maybe I'm crazy! And maybe, just maybe, you're still in there, my Heero, my love. I just can't stop believing in that. In you... Even if it is of comfort only to me.::
He continued his recitation of the news that he thought Heero would want to know, but his unconscious wandered.
Old stuff. Useless stuff. Like why the colony had granted a visa to that slimeball of a convicted criminal in the first place. ::Why our shop? Why, why, why?!::
~*~
Heero held Solo in his arms, waiting for Duo to get off the phone. It wasn't a problem; today he was early. The man walked through the door and straight to the counter. Before he stopped moving the gun was in his hand, pointing at Heero and Solo.
"Empty the safe!" he snarled.
Heero froze, eyeing the gun, processing his options in an instant. He had none. He couldn't do a thing with his son in his arms.
Duo dropped the phone, surging to his feet with a growl. "This is a cashless shop, buddy! There's no money here!"
"Open the goddamn safe!" His hand shook, the gun barrel wobbling slightly. The safety was off; the thing was cocked and loaded.
"I'll do it," Heero said flatly, putting Solo down carefully behind a steel desk. He turned toward the safe, then spun, lunging at the gunman. He grabbed the man's arm, forcing it up, as Duo leaped two desks and the counter.
The gunman was bigger than Heero; he managed to get his arm down. At the same moment that Duo slammed the heel of his hand into the man's face and broke his nose, driving shards of bone into his brain and killing him instantly, he pulled the trigger and the gun went off, and Duo's world sucked itself inside out.
~*~
Brain dead. Vegetative state. Hopeless. Pull the plug. Let him go.
::Like fuck I will.::
~*~
Thank the God for his friends. Thank you, Lady, for quietly determined Trowa who stepped in to run the business with Hilde (who was something of a basket case herself for several weeks). Thank you for rock-solid, dependable Quatre who handled the doctors, the hospitals, the shuttle flights to Earth and the media with such easy aplomb. Thank you for stern, honorable Wufei who took Solo under his wing, keeping the child occupied and sheltered until Duo recovered. And for Catherine and Sally Po and Rashid and people he barely knew who closed a protective circle around him and his ravaged family.
He was even grateful to Lucrezia Noin for roping and tying Relena and getting her back on Earth, before he put a bullet in her. After all the years of commitment, a marriage (who cared if it wasn't recognized in the Sanc Kingdom), a child and a life that promised happiness, to have Relena Peacecraft come wailing into Heero's room, spouting her useless platitudes and bemoaning the circumstances that brought her ("HER"?!) darling Heero to this foul end, had nearly sent Duo round the bend.
His battle-honed instincts had him pinning her against the wall, the barrel of his automatic halfway down her throat, when Noin intervened with Quatre's help. Finally, after all the sweet reason in the world had failed, Relena seemed to get it. Heero belonged to Duo, not to her. Never had belonged to her, never would.
She went away with Noin, and they hadn't heard a word from her since.
And he had laughed and laughed afterward, until someone gave him a shot that knocked him out for two days.
~*~
::And here we are, my love, after two years, three months and five days. And tomorrow is our anniversary.::
Aloud, he murmured in Heero's ear, "I wish you could understand. I wish I could know where you are, what's happening to you. I wish..." His voice caught in his throat, and he began silently to weep, hugging Heero tightly against him. "I want... I want to love you again... I want you to hold me... I want to hear you call me an idiot... I want... Oh, God, I want..." he whimpered, tucking his head under Heero's chin, tears falling silently onto his pale skin. "I want, I want, I want..."
~*~
Marissa knocked respectfully before opening the door. Mr. Maxwell didn't like to have other people see him crying. Evidence of past tears didn't seem to matter, but he always turned away until he could get himself together. She didn't like to see him crying either. It just wasn't right in someone so young.
He sat up from where he'd been lying on the bed beside Mr. Yuy. "Has it been two hours already?" he muttered. The smile he gave her was patently false; he looked years older today, as if the months of anguish had descended all at once.
"I'm afraid so, sir." Her hand touched the small package hidden in her pocket; she debated giving it to him. He seemed uncommonly sad today; maybe it would be better to wait. But then her hand was moving with a purpose of its own, holding out the small box to the lovely young redhead. "Mr. Maxwell, I remembered that you mentioned last week that your son wanted to be a policeman. "I... That is... My brother... was a policeman... on Earth... before the war... I thought your son... I thought he might like to have this..." She put the box in his hand. "My brother didn't have any children, but he loved kids..."
Duo opened the box. In it was an official numbered officer's badge from the city of Los Angeles. He looked up at Marissa. "I couldn't..."
"No, no, no. If I didn't think it would be cherished, I wouldn't offer it," she said quickly to cover her embarrassment. "Unless you'd rather he didn't have a reminder."
Duo stood up to wrap his arm around her shoulders to hug her and kiss her cheek. "Not at all, Marissa," he said brokenly. "He'll love it; I know he will. Thank you so much."
"Well," she said briskly, "we can always use dedicated policemen, even here in the colonies."
"That we can," he sighed, closing the box and tucking it into the pocket of his shirt. "I was just telling Heero that the young scamp wants to be a cop. I'm sure he's laughing at me right now," he grinned. He glanced at the clock. "Speaking of which, I'll have to pick Solo up shortly. We'll come tomorrow, and Solo can practice his manners by thanking you personally."
He turned back to his husband with a sigh. "Time for me to go, my love. Tomorrow is June seventh," he murmured against Heero's cheek, stroking his dark hair. "Our day. I love you. Please come back to me."
~*~
The dream woke him violently as it always did. He sat bolt upright in bed reaching for the gun that was no longer there. When he realized what had happened, he sighed, and drew his legs up to rest his cheek on his knee, waiting for his heart to quiet and the panic to subside. He wouldn't be going back to sleep tonight. Or rather, this morning, he corrected himself with a glance at the clock.
He crawled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He glanced at his reflection, turning away hurriedly. Thank the God Heero couldn't see that; what a mess! And then he looked again at his reflection.
In the background of the mirror, Heero watched over his shoulder, cobalt eyes gleaming in the darkness, a faint quirk to the corners of his mouth.
"Aaaaiiii!" Duo staggered back from the mirror, stumbled on the rug and fell. His head smacked the wall and he saw stars for a moment, and heard a flat, slightly nasal voice saying gently, "Duo no baka; be careful."
"Heero! Ah, Heero!" he cried, scrambling to throw himself against the mirror. But the image of his love was gone, if it had ever really been there.
"I'm losing my mind," he whispered, resting his forehead against the cold glass.
"Daddy...?"
He pulled himself together, going down on one knee to gather his sleepy son into his arms. "Sweetheart, what are you doing up? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," the little boy mumbled. "Papa said you fell. Did you hurt yourself?"
Duo stared at him, mouth slack, as the ground seemed to drop away. "Papa? Papa Heero?" He took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his calm. ::He's had a dream that's all. He heard me fall and his subconscious made a dream. He misses Heero and he inherited his sense of responsibility.:: He swallowed. ::He just naturally feels protective... And... and I'm just making up excuses, because I just... can't... go... there...::
To his abiding horror, he burst into sobs in front of his son, crumpling to the floor to weep helplessly. Dimly, in the distance, he heard Solo speaking breathlessly, but he couldn't make out the words. He lay on the cold tile whimpering, arms wrapped tightly around his ribs, barely aware that Solo had returned with his favorite blanket, tucking it around him and curling against him protectively.
"It's okay, Daddy," he said in his confident, six-year-olds voice, patting his face lightly. "I'll look after you."
::Heero... Oh, noooo...::
~*~
Arms lifted him off the floor, carried him back to bed, and tucked him in. He couldn't see who it was, still couldn't stop crying long enough to thank his rescuer. ::Heero! Heero... I need you...::
In the morning, he found Trowa dozing lightly in the chair next to his bed and Solo curled up on the foot of the bed.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position, eyeing Trowa in confusion. "What happened? Trowa... Why..."
Trowa opened one eye. "You freaked out. Solo called Wufei, but he's in Shanghai, so Wufei called me. I found you on the bathroom floor in hysterics, babbling about Heero."
He moved over to sit on the bed, laying a hand on Duo's shoulder. "You need to get back into counseling. Solo's too young to lose his remaining parent to a psych ward. And he's too young to be parenting YOU."
"I saw him," Duo whispered. "In the mirror. I looked at myself, and he was in the mirror, standing behind me, smiling... I... fell... And I heard him telling me to be careful." He looked up at Trowa's carefully neutral expression. "Everything just fell apart then... All these months... I just miss him so much... Everything came crashing down and I couldn't stop crying... I hope I didn't scare Solo too much," he said miserably, hanging his head. "I'm a fucked up mess..."
"You're a grieving husband," corrected his friend gently.
"Okay," Duo agreed with a sigh. "I'm a grieving fucked up mess."
Trowa didn't try to argue. Instead, he gave his shoulder a squeeze. Duo leaned against him and he laid his arm companionably across the redhead's shoulders.
"Where's Quatre?" Duo asked after several minutes of silence.
"It's grant time at the Winner Foundation. He has to make the final decisions this week."
"Mmm... He hates that, doesn't he? Having to say 'no' to someone."
"Yes."
Solo began to stir. He sat up to regard his father somberly. "Daddy, are you okay now?"
Duo managed a pretty decent smile. "Yeah, sweetheart. I'm feeling better. Thank you for helping me, and for calling Wufei and Trowa." The little boy crawled up to wrap his arms around Duo's waist, laying his head on his chest.
"I was a little worried..."
"Oi, sweetheart..." Duo sighed, his heart wrenching. He stroked his son's sable hair and hugged him tightly.
"But Papa said you were just tired," he finished.
Duo looked at Trowa, his chin quivering.
"Solo," said Trowa quickly, "may I have a glass of water, please?"
"Sure. I'll be right back." He hopped off the bed and disappeared.
"Duo..."
"I know, I know!" He hid his face in his hands.
"Maybe it's time..."
"NO!"
"Duo, you have to face it..."
"NO!" He covered his ears. "I don't have to face anything!"
"Duo..."
"If it was Quatre, would you face it?" he snarled.
Trowa looked at him. He sighed. It was a low blow. He deserved it. "No," he said quietly. "Probably not."
"I can't shake the feeling," Duo whispered, touching his ring to his lips, "that he's there. He's in there. For whatever reason, he's there and he just can't get back yet. That day in the military hospital... Nothing showed on their monitors either."
Trowa declined the argument. Duo always was the eternal optimist...
TBC...
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