"...couldn't explain it to you. I couldn't bear to see the condemnation I was sure I'd find in your eyes. But when Aaron fell, we'd been fighting--over Annabelle. We were on the mossy ledge of the falls, and when I pushed him, he slipped. And there was a moment when I think I could have saved him--as he clung to the edge and called out to me for help. But I hesitated. For a split-second I let my jealousy rule, and by the time I acted, it was too late. I lost my best friend because I envied him. I murdered my best friend..."
--excerpt from a letter from Jacob to Ephraim Barton
Smoky Hills Part 36
Consequences
Duo sighed as he shut off the Jeep. He knew full well that Quatre was going to fuss, and for once, he didn't welcome the attention.
He'd been trying all day to block the thought of Solo's bones ending up stuffed under a tree, dug up by a wandering dog, and finally sitting in a lab somewhere while emotionless scientists picked over them.
He hadn't had much success though.
As far as how he felt about all of this--well, he wasn't quite sure about that, either.
For so many years, he'd been angry and hurt over Solo's disappearance, blaming first himself, and then Solo, and then the town of Smoky Hills and pretty much everyone in it. He'd figured Solo had decided he needed to get out of the constricting intolerance of the small, close-knit town so desperately that he couldn't wait for Duo to graduate so they could leave together.
He'd transitioned from hating Solo, to missing him so much it hurt, to dreaming of his return, and eventually giving up and letting go of any hope of that dream coming true. In a sense, he'd already gone through the whole grieving process, and begun to move on. Aside from an occasional memory that dredged up either a wistful smile or a stab of pain, he'd almost stopped thinking about him.
That was until Heero Yuy moved to town, and Duo was forced to make a daily trip down a very literal memory lane.
And he was pretty proud of how he'd handled that bit of heartache--even going so far as to entertain notions of forging a relationship with the guy, which would have been the ultimate poetic justice. The man who made him revisit his past with Solo could also be the man who helped him finally get over it and truly move forward.
At least, he'd entertained those notions up until he realized his first instincts had been right; Heero was with Trowa.
Even in his frantic rush to get his shoes on, visit the bathroom and run down to demand answers about Solo's death, he hadn't overlooked the fact that there were only two finished bedrooms in the upstairs of that house. One had been the guest room he occupied, and the other had obviously been shared by the two inhabitants of the house.
He almost wished Heero had just left him on the couch and thrown a blanket over him. At least that way he could have continued in his little fantasy. He wouldn't have known their sleeping arrangements one way or the other.
But the oh-so thoughtful man had carried him up to the guest room and kindly tucked him in. And then he'd come looking for him after he took off. He'd cared enough to bring coffee, which was such a sweet gesture it just tugged at Duo's heart.
He'd even flirted, sort of.
"Maybe I'd like to know more..."
If that wasn't an invitation of some kind, Duo didn't know what was. And he'd been so tempted to tell him more--to tell him anything he wanted to hear. But the last thing Duo would ever dream of was breaking up a couple--let alone a couple so obviously suited to one another as Heero and Trowa.
He hadn't had a chance to see how the two interacted. But he knew what a friendly, funny guy Trowa was. And he'd seen how pleasant and thoughtful Heero could be. He was the last person who'd want to hurt either one of them--or help them hurt each other.
Duo really, really hoped he'd misinterpreted the "like to know more" comment--that Heero wasn't a cheater, but a nice guy who wanted to be his friend because they both liked dogs and spending time in the woods.
"Damn him anyway," he muttered, resting his head on the steering wheel. "Why'd he have to be so damn nice to me?"
It made it all the harder driving away from the first guy he'd looked at seriously since Solo.
But if Heero was the kind of man who'd cheat on a nice guy like Trowa, he wasn't anyone Duo wanted to be with.
If only he wasn't so gorgeous...
"Coming in, or are you going to sit out here all day?" asked a voice from beside the car.
Duo looked up sharply, into concerned blue eyes. "Not sure," he admitted sheepishly, warmed by Quatre's concern, which was at least genuine and pure. "Could we not talk about this just yet?"
"Talk about what?" Quatre asked with a teasing smirk. "You sitting in your car staring into space? Or whether you're going to remain there all day?" He laid a gentle hand on Duo's shoulder, ignoring the flinch. "Come inside and let me make some cocoa to go with lunch. I promise we don't need to talk about anything until you're ready."
Duo grunted his assent, and opened the car door, getting out and bracing himself--certain that in spite of his low-key approach Quatre would drag him into a sympathy-induced bear hug.
But his roommate merely turned and walked away, expecting him to follow.
Once inside, Quatre went quickly about his business, heating water for the cocoa and grabbing a bag of mini-marshmallows from the cupboard. "Hungry?" he asked, not even looking at his somber companion.
"Not really." In spite of having had nothing but the coffee Heero brought him, Duo couldn't muster up much of an appetite.
"Could you eat some toast maybe? Or a bit of the soup I made today?"
"I guess."
"Then we could get busy cleaning the gutters, since it's a warm day."
"Sure," came a listless response.
Duo knew what his friend was up to--planning to spend the remainder of the day dancing smoothly around the subject of Solo's death, filling the time with idle conversation and meaningless chores. While it was better than talking about Solo, he doubted it would do much to take his mind off him.
Quatre set a cup of steaming cocoa in front of Duo and went to throw some bread in the toaster and dish up some soup. "I never got to tell you about my date," he said brightly.
Duo looked up with a frown. "Date?"
"With Trowa?" Quatre said chidingly. "Last night? I was meeting him at the library--"
"I know that," Duo said a bit testily. "But you keep using the word 'date,' and I don't think it was."
He couldn't imagine Trowa stringing Quatre along--let alone cheating on a drool-worthy partner like Heero. It had to have been a misunderstanding that Quatre thought their book meeting was a real date.
"It was a date!" Quatre asserted.
"Did he kiss you goodnight?"
"Well, no."
"See?" Duo snipped back. "Not a date."
"Yes, but--"
"Do you have plans to meet up again?"
"Not yet, but--"
"Get over it then," Duo said curtly. "Trowa needed help with his journals and came to you because I told Heero you knew about that stuff, and Heero told him. Simple as that. There's nothing romantic about it."
"But we really hit it off," Quatre insisted, grabbing the toast and setting it next to the bowl of soup he'd put on the table.
"They're a couple, Quat."
"What? No. I don't think so--"
"They sleep in the same fuckin' bed!" Duo snapped. "Now would you just drop it?"
At Quatre's wounded look, he took a long sip of cocoa, almost enjoying the slightly too-hot burn down the back of his throat. He deserved to suffer for picking on the sweet blonde.
But Quatre needed to be set straight. He couldn't be allowed to be taken advantage of. And he'd no sooner want to break up a couple than Duo would. He had to know the truth about Heero and Trowa.
"Maybe--"
Duo stood up sharply, slamming down his mug. "I'm going to take a shower." He turned and stalked out of the room, every bit as wound up by the conclusion he'd reached about Heero and Trowa as he was by Solo's death.
Everything was jumbled up in his head, and he was so torn between anger and grief and frustration that he couldn't settle on any one emotion.
So he busied himself with something he could do automatically. He stripped out of the clothes he'd slept in, tossing them on the floor of the bathroom, and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it, before stepping under the stinging spray.
Then he methodically unbraided his hair and worked the shampoo through the long strands, washing the stink of whiskey and sweat out of it, and letting the water soothe away some of his stress.
It wasn't until he'd moved on to washing his body, and the cloth snagged on the gold cross around his neck, that it all came back to him in a rush.
"What's this for?" Solo asked Duo, looking at the small box he'd given him.
"It's a going away present."
"You didn't have to do that. And I'm not--"
"Just open it."
Solo opened the box and took out a gold cross on a chain, holding it up with a frown. "Duo--this is yours--"
"It was. But now I want it to be yours."
"I can't take this," Solo protested. "Father Maxwell gave it to you."
Duo recalled all too well that the kind priest had given him the shining gold chain and cross the last time a family declined to adopt him. He'd told Duo to remember that he was always wanted by the Holy Father, and that an Earthly home and family was nothing compared to what waited in Heaven.
"I want you to have it," he said firmly "Now that you got adopted, I don't want you to forget your family here."
"Jesus, Duo--" Solo blurted, pulling him into a bear hug. "I could never forget you!"
Duo sniffled, hugging back even harder.
"Aw, don't cry!" Solo chided, burying his face in the chestnut hair. "You know boys don't cry."
Duo's only response was to choke down a sob that wanted to slip past the lump in his throat.
"And give me some credit," Solo added soothingly. "Just 'cause I'll live a couple miles away, don't mean I won't be around. The Stevens'll let me stop by. And I'll see you in school."
"Yeah, I guess--"
"You don't guess--you know! You know me." Solo pushed him back to arm's length, glaring sternly down with tear-filled eyes. "We're family, Duo. You're more family to me than those people could ever be. I'd never turn my back on you. And I won't ever leave you. Even if I'm not here at the orphanage, I won't be far away."
"Promise?"
"I swear t'God, Duo. I'll always be there for ya!"
"Then where the fuck are you now?" Duo whispered, burying his face in his hands and letting his tears mingle with the water cascading around him.
He gave in again, leaning back against the tiles and sobbing helplessly, losing track of the time and forgetting about the thin walls in the old house, until the water had turned cool and he heard the bathroom door open and quick footsteps cross the room.
"Goddamnit, Duo! I should've known better!" Quatre blurted, yanking back the shower curtain and turning off the water.
He threw a towel around the shivering, sniffling man, pulling him into a determined hug. "I should've done this as soon as you got home," he murmured against the wet hair. "But I was trying to give you space. Stupid of me! You might've fallen apart when you were drunk, but the news hadn't really sunk in yet, had it?"
He led an unresisting Duo out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around his hair. "Let's get you to bed, and to hell with the gutters. You probably slept like crap last night. Alcohol does that. You need a couple of aspirin, and to eat a little of the soup you left behind." He tugged the mailman down the hallway and nudged him towards his bed. "Get under the covers and stay put," he ordered.
Duo didn't argue at all. In fact, he let Quatre take over completely.
The blonde hustled to the kitchen and re-heated the soup, grabbing a tray and setting a bowl, spoon and napkin next to two aspirin and a cup of water. It only took a few minutes, and when he got back to Duo's room, the braided man had donned pajamas and was obediently curled up under his quilt.
"Here," Quatre said, putting the tray on the night stand. "First, the aspirin."
Duo meekly took the pills and downed them along with the glass of water. Then Quatre set the tray carefully across his lap, watching him pick up the spoon and eat the soup with an almost expressionless face. His motions were automatic as he nibbled the toast and consumed the entire bowl of soup, apparently without tasting a single bite.
Normally he'd have critiqued it, or commented on how the carrots were cut on a slant, instead of straight across, or something. And Quatre was a bit alarmed by his lack of interest.
He noticed Duo kept fiddling with his gold cross, and decided to use that as a conversation-starter.
"I know I never asked before," he said brightly. "But you always wear that necklace. Where'd it come from?"
He thought at first that Duo wouldn't reply, but his fingers stilled and he looked directly at Quatre for the first time since he'd hauled him out of the shower. "Father Maxwell."
Well, that explained why, when Duo was especially upset, he tended to touch or hold the little gold cross.
The indigo eyes had a distant look in them, as if Duo were somewhere far away, instead of right next to his concerned roommate. "I gave it to Solo when he got adopted--" There was a slight hitch in his voice as he added, "So he wouldn't forget me."
"But if you--?" Quatre sighed, sitting beside him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Oh, Duo. He didn't forget you. You guys got together after Solo was adopted, right?"
"Yeah."
"And he didn't leave you," Quatre added.
"I know." Duo rubbed at his eyes. "I'm not mad any more," he said quietly. In fact his voice was barely over a whisper. "I'm just--"
When his voice faded out, Quatre took over for him. "--exhausted. You're exhausted. Think you could sleep a little if I close the drapes and turn off the lights?"
"I dunno." Duo sighed, slumping back against his pillows. "I can't seem to stop thinking, y'know? What happened to Solo...and why that damned dog hadda find him now, of all times. Just when I was ready to let go--"
"You're still ready," Quatre assured him. "Even if he didn't leave, Solo's still gone. And now you know he won't be back. So you don't have to worry that finding someone else is somehow going to mean you're giving up on him, or betraying him. You really are free to move forward now."
"I know," Duo said with a grimace. "But I wasn't kidding before--about Heero an' Trowa. There were only two bedrooms, and I was in one of them. They shared the other."
"So? Maybe they're bunking together until the house is finished," Quatre said with a hint of hope.
Duo shook his head dubiously.
"And since we're on the subject, does this mean you want to move forward--with Heero?"
Duo shrugged. "Not if he's a two-timing bastard."
"You don't know that. Why not reserve judgment until you find out for sure?"
"Because I don't think I can risk it," Duo said flatly. "If I let myself hope--" His voice trailed off and he closed his eyes. "I can't."
"Well even if Heero's not the one," Quatre pushed. "There will be someone. And there's nothing to hold you back when you find them."
"Just the memories," Duo sighed.
Quatre gave a frustrated huff, figuring he'd taken the discussion about as far as he dared right then. "So, deal with the memories," he suggested, pulling away and tucking the blankets around Duo, who seemed to be relaxing and getting drowsy since he'd had a decent meal. "And after that, we're gonna find you the best guy in the world, and I'm gonna see that smile back on your face--for good this time."
A faint flicker of that smile ghosted across Duo's lips as his eyes fluttered shut. "For you, Quat, anything," he mumbled, snuggling down into his pillows and drifting off.
The blonde left the door open as he tiptoed out of the room, so he could peek in from time to time without disturbing Duo. He was just on his way to mute the phone so it wouldn't wake him if it rang, when it rang.
He picked it up quickly. "Hello?"
"Hi, Quatre; it's Trowa."
"Hi!" he replied, unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice.
"I thought I'd call and check that Duo got home okay," Trowa continued.
"Yeah, he did."
"How's he doing?"
"Not great. But I got him to eat, and now he's sleeping. I think when he wakes up, he'll be in better shape."
"Well, sounds like he's in good hands." There was a momentary pause, and Quatre could actually hear the deep breath Trowa took. "I also wanted to thank you for looking at the journals. I thought maybe I could buy you lunch somewhere."
A grin spread across Quatre's face, even as he had to say, "You don't have to. I was happy to help."
"But I want to," Trowa insisted.
"Oh." Quatre's smile widened still more. "Okay then. When would you like to get together? I close the office for two hours for lunch; so as long as we're not going far, we could do it any day."
"Tomorrow? Oh, wait, that's Sunday," Trowa sputtered. "How about Monday?"
"That would be fine. Do you want to meet at Sally's diner? It doesn't look like much, but she's got the best food around here, unless we drive a couple of towns over."
Trowa chuckled at that. "There's other towns?" he joked. "Heero and I haven't seen much of anything on our way to my physical therapist."
"Where's that?"
"Summersville."
"Wrong direction. South of here there are a couple of towns just a little bigger than Smoky Hills, and they've got a few eateries."
There was a momentary pause. "How 'bout if you choose? I don't know the area, and I want you to enjoy yourself. I'd like to go where you'd be most comfortable."
Quatre caught a hint of concern, and frowned thoughtfully. He'd picked up on the wary glances Trowa had been darting at the head librarian as she hovered nearby, and it dawned on him that the auburn-haired man was well aware of the bias against gays in the small town.
Although Quatre hadn't dated any women in town, no one had ever outright accused him of being gay. And he had to think for a moment before he decided not to care one way or the other.
"Sally's is fine," he said firmly. "I can introduce you to a few of Duo's and my friends." He fished for a way to say he'd be proud to be seen in the company of such a gorgeous guy, no matter what gossip it might start, but he couldn't come up with the right phrasing.
"I'd like that," Trowa said quickly. "A lot."
Quatre heard an odd noise on the other end of line, followed by a curse and some squawking.
"Shit--I've gotta go. Heero's having some trouble with Zero--damn bird!"
"The screamer?" Quatre asked, recalling Duo's harrowing tale of blood-curdling bird calls.
"The very one," Trowa replied with a laugh. "I'd better rescue him before we have squab for dinner. So I'll pick you up at the post office Monday when you close for lunch?"
"I'll be watching for you."
When he hung up the phone, Quatre let out a yelp of excitement, which he quickly muffled under a hand. He glanced guiltily up the stairs, hoping Duo hadn't heard. And just as quickly, he decided not to mention the call at all. The last thing he needed was to reopen the debate on Trowa and Heero's relationship. He was having lunch with a gorgeous guy on Monday, and that was all he cared about. Besides, he'd make it a point to find out their connection at that time, even if he had to come right out and ask Trowa. He didn't share Duo's belief that there was more to the pair than met the eye, and he wasn't going to blow a chance to determine once and for all if Heero was available. It would be a nice gift to Duo, to be able to tell him the man he was so enthralled by was gay, single, and maybe even interested.
Content with his plans, Quatre set about cleaning up the lunch dishes and continuing the chores without Duo's help. He hoped his roommate slept all afternoon, and into the next morning; he really needed the rest.
~*~
Duo did sleep through the remainder of Saturday, not putting in an appearance until mid-morning on Sunday, when Quatre was at the table reading the paper.
"G'morning," came a gruff, yawning voice, as the braided man shuffled into the kitchen with a bathrobe thrown on over his pajamas and his hair sticking out at odd angles. "You let me sleep with damp hair," he accused.
"You needed the rest."
"Yes, and now I need a blowtorch to get the tangles out," Duo joked, rubbing his eyes and then stealing a piece of toast off Quatre's plate.
"That's cold," Quatre said, without even looking past the paper to see what Duo had done.
"I'll reheat it."
"I mean, it's pretty cold stealing a man's last piece of breakfast toast," Quatre jibed.
He got a chuckle for his effort, and was pleased with himself.
"Well since I stole your breakfast, how 'bout I buy you lunch at Sally's today?" Duo looked up from under his bangs, an apologetic look on his face. "Seein' as you put up with me yesterday."
"That's what friends are for," Quatre said with a shrug. "You don't owe me lunch." He gave a sly smile. "But I'll take it anyway, thanks."
Duo grinned back, as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "I'm gonna go shower and try to condition this mess of hair into submission. How 'bout we do the gutters afterwards, and lunch will be our break time?"
"Sounds perfect," Quatre replied, glad to see some normalcy in his roommate. Not that he didn't expect some more fallout over the news about Solo. But for the moment, Duo seemed to have regained his balance, which was a huge relief.
"Naw--perfect would be a six-week vacation on a beach in Tahiti," Duo quipped, heading out of the room. "But lunch will have to suffice for as close to perfect as we're gonna get today. Back in a flash, buddy!"
He disappeared back up the stairs and Quatre settled back to finish reading the paper.
True to his word, Duo was showered, dressed, and ready to work in record time, and the two men spent the better part of the warm spring morning doing chores around the yard.
By noontime, they were more than ready for a hearty lunch, and decided to walk the short distance to the restaurant and enjoy the pleasant weather.
When they got there, however, it seemed others had gotten the same idea. After pushing through the door, Duo stopped so abruptly just inside that Quatre nearly bumped into his back.
"What gives?" blurted the blonde,
Duo turned to face him, casting a furtive glance over a shoulder. "Dumb and Dumber are here. I don't think I'm hungry any more."
Quatre looked past him to see Otto and Trant at a corner table, talking in low voices. "They aren't even looking up," he pointed out. "C'mon, Duo. Are you going to let those bullies chase us out of our favorite hangout?"
Duo gave his friend a haunted look. "I don't think I can deal with them today," he said quietly. "If they say anything about Solo, I'm liable to kill 'em."
"First off, we're the only ones who know," Quatre pointed out.
"Hilde knows; that means everyone knows."
"Do you really think she'd blab something that important around?"
"She told me."
"You were his lover. Of course she told you. But I'm sure the cops asked her to keep quiet. And even if they didn't, I'll bet she understands that this isn't idle gossip she can spread." Quatre caught Duo by both shoulders, looking deeply into his eyes. "She's your friend, Duo. She wouldn't do anything to cause you harm."
"You're right," Duo was forced to admit. He looked over at his two enemies, who were still oblivious to their presence. "But Jesus, Quat--I'm not sure I can handle this--"
"We're going to walk right past them and find a booth," Quatre said with determination. He led the way across the restaurant, his aquamarine gaze focused on the hated pair in a challenging glare.
Only Otto glanced up as they passed, and he immediately looked away, while Trant kept up a quiet, angry-sounding monologue Quatre couldn't quite catch.
"That was odd," Duo mumbled, sliding into a booth across from Quatre. "I can't remember the last time they didn't take a cheap shot when it was available."
"Well maybe they're finally growing up," Quatre snipped, darting a last glance at the two, who were in an even more intense, hushed conversation than before. His blue eyes narrowed as he wondered what had them so deeply engrossed in discussion. "As if they ever had a thought," he added in an undertone.
Duo just snorted at Quatre's suggestion that his enemies had grown up, and picked up his menu. "Did you say you were buyin', Quat? 'Cause maybe I could muster up an appetite after all..."
"As I recall, you're buying," Quatre shot back with a smirk. "Wasn't this my reward for the mother hen routine?"
"Ah, so it was." Duo's smile softened. "Dunno what I'd do without you, Quat. You're a true friend."
"So are you," Quatre said warmly. "So are you."
TBC...
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