Author's Note: This fits with chapters twenty-three and twenty-four of Witness.
Diary of a Protected Witness Part 17
Limbo
I was not sulking. No matter what Chang or Yuy might've thought about the way I acted after our big blow up, I wasn't sulking.
I was staying out of the way of the two guys whose job it was to keep me alive--trying not to make any extra work for them--trying to give half a shit about staying alive.
Wasn't as easy as it looked, either. While I managed to fill my time by drawing or listening to my music, time seemed to slow to a crawl for me. Even a little flirting over breakfast with Heero didn't occupy me long enough to revive my enthusiasm for living.
I even tried to help out with dinner one night, but Chang just snapped that they didn't need any help, and I realized the ice in the atmosphere was there for good.
Or so I thought...until Yuy walked into my room a couple of days later and shoved the phone into my hand.
"Winner's on the line."
Quatre? I had no idea why my lawyer would be calling, and I knew we were supposed to be conserving batteries, so I took the phone kind of hesitantly. "Quat?"
"Yes, Duo, it's me."
"Hey, it is you. What's up, man?"
"How are you, Duo?"
"Me? I'm fine, why?"
"Heero said you seemed--unhappy."
"No...I'm not. Well, maybe a little," I admitted. "It's...a little lonely."
Well wasn't that the understatement of the year? I'd never felt so alone in my life. Though, I gotta admit, hearing Quatre's voice so full of concern made me feel a whole lot better.
And I felt even better when Trowa came on the line.
"Shini--God, I've been worried sick. How are you?"
"Tro'? Fuck, it's good to hear your voice." I had to swallow to keep from gettin' choked up, and honestly, I did anyway. "I wish I could see you..."
"Same here, love. I'd fucking wrap you in the biggest hug ever, an' never let go."
"Yeah, me too," I sighed, wishing I could collect on that promise right then and there.
We didn't talk for long, but Trowa said all the right things, about how he didn't care if I'd goofed up by calling Hilde--he understood how hard it was for me to see Zechs' funeral on television. He always knew what I needed to hear.
The only thing he got wrong was when he tried telling me that the cops were worried about me--that Yuy was, and had said as much when he called Quatre. I told him he was fuckin' delusional.
But, y'know, just having a few minutes of hearing Trowa's soothing voice--and realizing there was still one friend in my life who'd never, ever turn on me--made a world of difference.
After I gave the phone back to Yuy, who obviously had been just around the corner listening to every word I said, I returned to my sketch book feeling decidedly better.
Like I've said before, Trowa was a real pal. He'd cared enough to force me off the drugs, and to help me find work; he'd been a gentle, passionate lover and a totally kinky guy at times. We'd shared a bed more times than I could count, an apartment in the city until I got my own, and oddly enough a romantic streak that told us both we needed each other's friendship more than love. We were both looking for that elusive "something" out there. And when it looked like I found it with Zechs, Trowa was man enough to push me into being exclusive with him. He was the one who suggested giving up the "benefits" part of our friendship, if it was something that would get in the way of my relationship with Zechs. And he also promised that he'd be there for me if things went bad.
Sometimes I wondered if I was a total fool for not telling him I loved him and that he was all I needed--that Zechs was exciting and dangerous and passionate--but that I'd just as soon have steady and loyal and loving Trowa. I knew one thing for sure. If Zechs had ever made me choose--told me that I couldn't remain friends with Trowa--I'd have dumped his ass in a heartbeat. And Trowa's warm voice on the phone made me realize that was the right decision. He'd been there for me through thick and thin, and he planned to continue the tradition.
God, I loved that guy--in so many ways.
But I'd also picked up on the fact that he was with Quatre. They were somewhere together. And despite a twinge of worry on my friend's behalf, I didn't dare feel jealous of his interest in the handsome blonde lawyer. He deserved the kind of stomach-fluttering feelings Zechs had given me. And if Quatre gave them to him, I'd be as supportive of Trowa as he'd been of me.
Even if it hurt.
I decided that Trowa's little pep talk should be put to good use, and resolved to buck up and get my tough attitude back. I'd been wallowing in self-pity long enough, even if I called it cooperating with my captors. It was time to act more like myself again. I could still behave myself, and help Yuy and Chang in their efforts to protect me, without becoming a silent, somber shadow like I'd been.
I couldn't let Trowa down, now could I?
So I went down to make myself something to eat, and ended up talking to Yuy and Chang about Hilde and her kid for a while--the first actual conversation we'd had since our big blow up. Chang was all for throwing the book at her, but once the shock of knowing she'd sold me out wore off, I hadda admit, I knew why she did it. The kind of money Khushrenada was offering for my head was enough for her to take good care of her kid. Since she'd never found the sugar daddy she was after, she'd had to work two jobs to afford a decent life. I could see why, when it came to a choice between helping her kid and staying loyal to a guy who'd turned her down, she'd choose the kid.
Didn't mean I liked it. But I understood. It's a dog eat dog world, y'know. Sometimes ya gotta protect your own.
I was just glad I still had my unshakeable faith in Trowa. You'd think after Hilde's betrayal I might've wondered if he'd be next. But I never did. I just knew, deep in my heart, that Trowa would never do anything to hurt me.
I also knew, and I have no idea why, that Yuy and Chang, for all their bluster and contempt, were both willing to die to protect me. In Chang's case it was a matter of honor and duty; but in Yuy's, I guess I still hoped there was a smidgeon of something more mixed in there.
I think I might've been content with him just feeling a little sense of obligation for the really nice blow job I'd given him. But I really hoped there was even a bit more. I wanted to believe he wanted me alive for more than his precious court case.
After all, he'd called Quatre, hadn't he? I didn't know what that meant--but I was almost sure it meant something.
And the next day, we finally had a little heart-to-heart about the sex on the floor.
Yuy seemed to think I'd initiated it just for the hell of it, and I tried to set him straight. But it was kind of hard when I couldn't exactly pin down my own motives. I mean, sure, I'd lusted after his body. And when I lifted his gun, all that was on my mind was seeing him naked and maybe embarrassing him a bit.
But when it came right down to it, I'd been desperate to feel something more than fear and loneliness; I'd needed to be touched and held and, well, fucked through the floor.
Not that I could seem to make Heero understand it hadn't just been an outlet for my frustrations. He really thought it meant nothing to me--and I didn't know how to correct that impression without revealing that I had more than a passing crush on him.
I wasn't ready to make that admission...not by a long shot! Jesus Christ, I'd've had to be crazy to give him that much leverage over me. If he knew I was attracted to his single-mindedness and the sheer determination and competence he exuded...
Well, let's just say I didn't want to give him that much of an upper hand. It was better that he thought my lust was just a fleeting thing--that I was a shallow, selfish player--than that he know I harbored some real feelings for him.
Fuck! Did I just say that?
Fortunately, the conversation got around to Zechs, and how we met, and I was able to amuse Heero enough to divert his attention temporarily, though we did end up back on the subject of our little indiscretion when I tried to apologize for the whole "gun" thing.
Of course, he seemed to think I was regretting the incident, and I had to correct him on that. I needed him to know I didn't regret having sex with him. I don't know why that mattered so much, but it did.
"I was only going to apologize for the way I forced you. I wasn't going to say I was sorry."
Whether it tipped my hand or not, I needed him to know that much. I wasn't sorry it had happened, regardless of how it got started. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat, if I ever got the chance.
I hoped maybe he could read between the lines enough to know I still wanted him. Not that I thought I had a chance, since he made it clear he needed an emotional connection with his sex partners, and I couldn't picture him having any kind of feelings for me. But I at least wanted to leave the offer out there for him--in case, maybe, that spark I thought I saw in his eyes from time to time wasn't all in my imagination.
God--I'm a fuckin' dreamer, aren't I?
OWARI
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