anger, revelation of Heero stupidity and Trowa trauma.
it Down to Learning + Chapter 7
"Heero? Heero, what's going on? Where's Duo?"
Trowa leaned against the frame of the door in the room that Heero was
presently engaged in tearing apart, watching as Quatre hovered over the
other man, trying to get him to stay still, repeating the same pointless
questions over and over again.
Heero pushed the blond aside and slammed into the large walk-in closet,
bellowing Duo's name.
Trowa considered reminding Heero that Duo had come out of the closet a
long time ago, but somehow it just didn't seem to be the most appropriate
time for jokes.
The tall man acknowledged to himself that nothing about this situation
was funny. A feeling a sick dread had settled in the pit of his stomach,
and he was afraid that nothing was going to be funny for a long time.
He hadn't had that feeling in a long time - years. He'd used to experience
that sick dread constantly - it had been so much a feature of his existence,
that after the wars were over and there was nothing to worry about, he
hadn't quite known what to do. He hadn't known how to live without a constant,
overwhelming sense of apprehension.
But now... well, now it was back. And Trowa didn't like it one damn bit.
That was probably why his mind was producing bad, inappropriate jokes
- he didn't want to face that the idyll was over.
The idyll. He knew - he'd always known - that that's all this life was,
all it could be.
Nothing this enjoyable, this... perfect could last.
It would end, as all things did.
He'd always known that.
And the sick fear in his stomach warned him that the end had finally come.
He just... didn't want to accept it.
He scowled, glaring at the open door Heero had retreated through, with
Quatre in close pursuit. Wufei touched him lightly on the arm, and he
turned to meet worried black eyes.
He shrugged in answer to the question in those liquid depths, looking
He didn't want to see the understanding in Wufei's eyes when he too realized
that, most probably, their peace was at an end.
Worse still, he didn't want the other man to read that truth in his eyes.
A loud crash came from the closet, accompanied by a startled cry from
Quatre, and a moment later a wild-eyed Heero rushed back into the main
"He's not in there!" Heero bellowed to Trowa.
"No shit," Trowa snapped back, eyeing Heero with disfavor.
"If he's not here, where the hell is he?" the Japanese man shouted
back, as though this room was the obvious place for Duo to be.
In fact, it was not a room the other man spent much time in. They all
had a private room of their own, with a small bed, dresser and a closet
for their clothes. It was a place where they could all retreat, store
their belongings, and have some privacy if they needed it.
They almost never used the rooms. They were more or less glorified dressing
rooms. They always slept together, in one of the large bedrooms in the
The room that they actually slept in varied from night to night. Trowa
was never sure when he woke up in the morning where or exactly with whom
he would spend that night.
Neither were any of the others.
It was a slightly odd arrangement. As Trowa glanced around Duo's 'room,'
a thought struck him that had never really occurred to him before.
Despite the fact they that all had their 'own' rooms, they never used
them. The other bedrooms that they did sleep in, they rotated randomly
In a strange way, although their living quarters boasted no fewer than
fourteen bedrooms, Trowa didn't have his own bed now any more than he
had as a child.
Never in his life had he had a room of his own.
He'd never decorated a bedroom.
Had a bed he felt attached to.
He'd never had... a sanctuary.
Trowa glanced around the room they were standing in. There was a bed,
a desk, a chest of drawers. It was decorated in a soft yellow, with curtains
and a bedspread of the same tone, flecked with an equally muted shade
Pastel yellows and greens certainly didn't scream, "Duo!" to
This wasn't "Duo's room" anymore than the room next door where
he kept his things - a room decorated in shades of mauve and beige - was
Trowa shook his head, trying to dismiss the seemingly random thought.
There were bigger things that he should be worrying about at the moment
than stupid bedrooms.
Like where Duo was.
"Where is he?" Heero bellowed at him again.
Trowa narrowed his eyes. Heero was in that particular state of panic that
could be created by only one thing - knowledge that you yourself had done
something very stupid and fucked things up very badly.
Heero was panicking... and Duo was missing...
Therefore, Duo was probably missing because of something Heero had done...
And so it followed that the feeling of sick loss in Trowa's stomach that
was growing stronger with every passing minute was caused by Heero.
Trowa's eyes narrowed even further as he stared at the Japanese man.
He was suddenly very angry with him.
"I've got to find him... I've got to find Duo!" Heero shouted,
and tried to shove his way past Trowa.
The taller man reached out quickly, grabbing Heero's arm and jerking him
back in front of him.
"Duo's not here, Heero," he said flatly. "Where is he?"
"I don't know where he is!" Heero bellowed. "I have to
find him! I need to... " The blue-eyed man's words trailed off, and
he growled in frustration. "I need to find him," he finished
inadequately. "Let go of me, Trowa, so that I can... "
Trowa tightened his grip on Heero's arm, pulling the other man so that
he was standing directly in front of him. "What the hell is going
on, Heero," he demanded through clenched teeth, emphasizing each
Heero glared at him, the glare that had once wilted men twice Heero's
age, but Trowa had seen it too many times for it to retain its efficacy
with him. He just glared back.
"What's going on?" Trowa repeated evenly.
Heero stared at him, and the silence lengthened between them. Trowa's
fingers tightened, digging wells into Heero's strong arm.
The blue-eyed man glanced down, staring at Trowa's bone-white fingers
clenched over the flesh of his arm. He looked up and his eyes met Trowa's
green ones for a long minute. He sighed, and the anger seemed to drain
out of him. "We had a... well... he... " Heero trailed off,
his face reddening.
Trowa scowled at him. Heero didn't stutter. Yet, he was.
"Did you have a fight?" Quatre asked, moving up to stand beside
the Japanese man.
Heero shook his head impatiently. "No," he snapped. "At
least... well... "
"Look at this." Trowa's head snapped to the side, his instincts
alerted by the tone in Wufei's voice.
The Chinese man's face was drawn with worry. He held out a folded piece
Heero grabbed for the paper, but Trowa yanked hard on his arm, knocking
him off balance, and grabbed it instead.
Trowa finally let go of the Japanese man, and carefully unfolded the plain
white piece of paper. He smoothed it carefully as he opened it - it didn't
really need smoothing, it wasn't crumpled. But he needed something to
do with his hands to stop the fine trembling running through them.
Hi Guys, the note read. I'm just writing this so you don't worry about
what happened to me. I'm... going. I should have gone before... I shouldn't
ever have been here in the first place. I've been lying to you, and I'm
sorry. Heero can... tell you... everything. I hid things from you. I thought
it would be ok, because the past never seemed to matter with us, but...
the past always matters. I'd forgotten that, I guess. I never meant to
hurt any of you. I'm sorry. Please... don't be mad at me. I'll miss you
all. Love, Duo.
Trowa stared at the paper, the words blurring into each other.
Duo left? Duo had gone? That wasn't possible. He'd woken up with Duo this
morning, the American's arm thrown casually over his middle. Everything
had been just like it always was. And now... Duo wasn't here? It just
couldn't be - Duo couldn't be gone tonight - it just didn't make any sense.
He looked up slowly, staring at Wufei, seeking some answer to the questions
that plagued him. Wufei would tell him the truth. Wufei had given him
this paper, and so Wufei would explain what was going on.
But there was no comforting solace on the other man's face.
"It was on the dining room table," Wufei told him softly. "He
must have thought we would be home earlier, and eat... "
Or he hadn't wanted to put it somewhere conspicuous. They didn't eat in
the dining room all that often. At least, they didn't eat the kind of
meals you ate in the dining room. They ate pizza and take-out Thai food
and fried chicken. They rarely sat down for a formal meal.
No. He definitely hadn't wanted them to know.
Why? Why hadn't he wanted them to know that he was gone? Why had he left
in the first place?
Heero grabbed the paper out of Trowa's hand. Trowa watched the other man's
blue eyes move as he read it through once, twice and again. Heero stared
at the paper for a full minute, just staring at the words as though they
would change if he looked at them.
"He's... gone?" Quatre had read the note over Heero's shoulder,
and he was staring between Wufei and Trowa with the same look of uncomprehending
disbelief that Trowa was struggling to keep off his own face.
"Where'd he go?" Heero shouted. "Think, damn it! Where
could he have gone? We have to find him! We... "
"Don't you tell me to fucking think, Yuy," Trowa snarled, advancing
on the agitated man. "What do you know about this? What happened?
Why did Duo leave?"
"I don't know!" Heero shouted. "I don't know why he left!
I knew he'd be mad at me, but I have no idea why he'd... "
"You knew he'd be mad at you." Trowa grabbed on to the pertinent
piece of the other man's babblings as he continued to advance slowly.
Heero was backing up. "Why would he be mad at you?"
"Trowa." A hand came down on his arm, and he turned his head
to the side, snarling at Wufei.
"Let him talk," Wufei ordered simply.
"I'm not stopping him," Trowa snapped. "I... "
"Just stay here," the Chinese man advised quietly. He turned
his attention to Heero. "What happened, Heero?" he asked simply,
his voice bare of emotion.
Heero growled, shoving a hand through his already-tousled dark hair. "Why
are we standing here wasting time?" he demanded. "We need to
go find Duo! We need to... "
"We need to know what happened, before we can figure out where he
may have gone," Wufei interrupted smoothly. "What happened,
"I don't know what happened to him!" Heero replied in a shout.
He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, a nervous gesture that was
entirety atypical. Heero never fidgeted. He never displayed any kind of
He was now, though.
"You were the last one to see him," Trowa snapped, stepping
forward aggressively despite Wufei's restraining hand on his arm. "What
Heero looked away from the challenging green gaze, his cheeks flushing
slightly. "I... He was the one that messaged me," he said awkwardly.
"I met him in one of the conference rooms... "
"I knew it!" Quatre interrupted, scowling as his grievance from
earlier in the day was confirmed. "I knew you both left to fool around!
Damn it, Heero, you know that kind of thing just gives Une more ammunition,
why do you insist on... "
"Fuck Une," Trowa snapped, still glaring at Heero. "So
you were in the conference rooms screwing around, and then what?"
Heero stared at the floor, his mouth set in a stubborn line.
"Then what?" Trowa repeated loudly when the other man didn't
"None of your fucking business," Heero snapped, looking up to
glare at the other man with frustrated anger.
With one smooth lunge, Trowa shook off Wufei's light restraint and bounded
forward. Before Heero even realized he'd moved, he had a handful of the
other man's shirt and had slammed Heero up against the wall.
"Duo's gone, you were the last person to see him, and you've as good
as said you did something to upset him," Trowa summarized, the anger
pounding through his veins honing his voice to a soft, dangerous smoothness.
"It certainly is my fucking business, Heero, so stop dicking around
and tell me what the hell is going on!" By the end he was shouting,
and he slammed Heero's head hard against the wall for emphasis.
"Trowa!" Now it was Quatre's hands on him, forcing him to put
Heero down, pulling him away. "This isn't helping anything!"
Quatre wasn't quite right. True, his screaming at Heero wouldn't bring
Duo back, wouldn't correct whatever had passed between the other two pilots
earlier in the day. But it was certainly making him feel better.
Trowa shook off Quatre's restraining hands and clenched his fists, glaring
at Heero. "What happened?" he spit through clenched teeth. It
was no longer a question, but a demand for information, and Heero sighed,
recognizing it as such.
The Japanese man stood straight, putting his hands behind his back. His
gaze appeared to fasten on something somewhere behind Trowa's left ear,
and he began to speak, in a cold, passionless voice.
Trowa almost lost track of what Heero was saying, he was concentrating
so hard on the other man's demeanor. He never talked like that, but somehow...
the whole position, the tone, everything, seemed strangely familiar.
It hit Trowa suddenly, and he almost swayed as the sudden realization
It was Heero's "mission report" stance. This was how he'd related
any success or failure to anyone he considered a superior, during the
He hadn't acted like this in years, but it was a side of Heero that Trowa
had seen frequently during the war. It was the stance he had took when
he spoke to every family member of every official that had gone down on
that ill-fated plane at New Edwards.
"... in the conference room." Trowa shook himself and forced
himself to pay attention. He'd already missed the beginning of Heero's
recitation - he didn't want to lose anymore.
"Hillis walked in and caught us. He slammed out and told us we should
hang out a red light if that's what we were going to utilize conference
rooms for." Trowa bit back a snort of derision. He didn't believe
that Hillis had used the word "utilized" anywhere in his remark.
Heero was so intensely... military sometimes. It was easy to forget that
Heero had been raised to be a weapon, but sometimes, especially when the
Japanese man was uncomfortable, it was very apparent. He fell back on
all the excessive formality of the military when he was in the least bit
"Duo replied that his red light days were over. I... asked Duo why
he said things like that." Trowa's eyes narrowed, catching the slight
hesitation. He'd bet that Heero hadn't exactly phrased his request in
the most polite manner.
"He told me he said that because they were. I asked him what he meant
by that, and he told me... " Heero hesitated, and his eyes moved
to Trowa's. The tall man saw the bewilderment and pain in those blue eyes
- Heero's detached, bureaucratic facade was crumbling. "He'd told
me he'd been a prostitute," Heero finished heavily.
Trowa was staring at Heero, he wasn't looking at Quatre or Wufei, but
he heard the indrawn gasps of surprise from the other two men at Heero's
revelation. He wasn't surprised, though.
This information only confirmed what he'd been thinking since he saw Duo's
reaction to Dacia and Michel's stories. He wondered with slight exasperation
why everyone else seemed so shocked - hadn't they seen how atypically
the American had been behaving?
But, he supposed they wouldn't. Or, at least, they wouldn't realize why
Duo would be acting strangely. For all that they had all been soldiers
at a very young age, they'd all - even Heero - had very sheltered upbringings.
They had all been cherished children - the heir to the business, the pride
of the clan, the hope for future victory - and they'd all been protected
He and Duo hadn't been precious to anyone, though. They'd seen a lot more
of the ugliness of the world than the others. So maybe it wasn't unusual
at all that Quatre and Wufei and Heero wouldn't have drawn the same parallels
that he had.
But the question remained, how would they react?
"What... do you mean, Heero?" Quatre asked, and Trowa heard
the strained horror in the blond's voice.
Heero's eyes moved briefly to Quatre's. "When he was a child, Quatre,"
he managed, his voice missing all of the detached flatness of a moment
ago. "Just a kid. He had to... "
Wufei said something in Chinese, and Trowa glanced over at him. The smaller
man's face was dark with anger, his eyes flashing. "What is wrong
with people?" he hissed angrily. "Children are precious. They
should be protected, not used for... "
"Why didn't he ever tell us?" Quatre murmured.
Heero shrugged. "I... I don't know," he answered helplessly.
"I just... he just told me today, and... "
"And what?" Trowa interrupted, Heero's hesitance reminding him
of the point of the questioning. "What did you do when he told you?
Why aren't you with him? Why don't you know where he went?" His voice
got louder and louder with each question, until he was shouting again.
This was the answer - this had to be. It explained why Duo left. He'd
told Heero this secret, made this painful confession, and Heero had rejected
"I... I told him... I... I didn't know what to do, Trowa," Heero
"Because you found out you'd been sleeping with a whore?" Trowa
accused smoothly, again advancing on the other man. "Because you
found out that you'd been sharing your precious body with someone who
used to sell theirs?"
"NO!" Heero insisted furiously, shaking his head from side to
side, but Trowa was too angry to absorb the other man's denial.
This... anger... always caught him by surprise. Confused him. He tried
to hide it from everyone, and had done an admirable job of it in the years
they'd been together. Once he'd lost control during a case, venting that
uncontrollable rage on their target, a sadistic killer who'd kidnapped
and horribly murdered the family members of some government officials
who'd helped pass legislation that tightened the penalties on criminals.
After that particular occurrence, Une had threatened that if anything
like that ever happened again, she'd have him brought up on charges and
thrown out of the Preventers. They'd been able to hide that one incident,
though, because only the five of them had been on the mission.
And the target... well, he wouldn't be talking to anybody, unless they
went through a medium.
He'd shocked his four lovers that time, but they'd dismissed it as a one-time
episode, brought on by the horror of some of the crime scenes that they'd
had to witness over the course of that case.
They hadn't seen him in the year or two after the war.
When all of the restraints of being a 'soldier for peace' were lifted
from him, and he didn't have to fight, or kill, or answer to anyone...
when there was nothing to do and noone to fear, this anger had suddenly
risen in him.
He'd been thrown off of two colonies, out of three cities, and out of
more bars than he could count. He'd fight with anyone, over anything.
He wasn't even angry at anything specific. He'd just been... angry.
He'd been angry only once before in his life, up to then, and it had been
so long ago he could barely remember it. He'd forced himself to forget
it, to the point where he didn't even understand exactly what anger was.
He'd seen other people, the other pilots even, get angry, but he hadn't
understood the emotion. Even when he was captured, when they were betrayed,
even when Quatre himself shot at him... that was just what happened in
battle. It was nothing to get angry over.
It made no sense. Even he didn't understand it. He'd managed to keep his
temper through events like that, but once there was nothing to be angry
at, he couldn't contain his rage.
It had faded away after they had all come to their arrangement, when there
was something else to occupy his time, soothe him, distract him.
But now it was back and it burned hotter than ever. This time, though,
it had a focus.
Heero. He was angry at Heero.
Heero had hurt Duo.
"So you were too good for him, then?" Trowa continued mercilessly,
his whole body trembling with the force of his fury.
"No, Trowa! I never said that. I said... "
"You know, Heero, you aren't exactly the most pure person to ever
walk the face of the earth. You... "
"I never said that, Trowa!"
"You must have said something!" Trowa shouted, fists clenching.
"Duo's gone, Heero! He's gone! What the fuck happened?"
"I told him it was sick... that he'd been used like that," Heero
babbled. "I said... "
"Allah," Quatre whispered. His voice wasn't very loud, but it
wasn't often that Quatre appealed to a higher power, and it startled them
They all turned to the blond. He was clutching his chest, his face pale.
"You didn't say it like that," he accused Heero. "Did you?"
Heero flushed. "I... don't know!" he insisted. "When I'd
calmed down, I realized... he may have misinterpreted... "
"You hurt him," Quatre said, just as flatly. The blond was trembling,
and he reached out, grabbing hold of the dresser to steady himself. "You
know it, now. You feel it... "
Trowa stared in concern at Quatre, noting the blond's pallor, his trembling,
and the hand that was still pressing firmly against the broad chest.
"Guilt... you know you hurt him... " Quatre murmured, weakly,
closing his eyes as though in pain.
"Quatre... stop." Wufei approached the taller man, and carefully
reached out and pressed his hand to the hand that still rested on the
Quatre started at the contact, jerking away from Wufei's touch as though
it hurt. But the Arab stopped trembling, and some color slowly leaked
back into his face.
Trowa slowly turned his stare back to Heero. "What did you do?"
he asked softly.
Heero took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a minute. "I... it
shocked me, Trowa," he confessed, opening his eyes. "I didn't
know... how to react. What to say... what to... "
"Did you tell him you were sorry?" Trowa demanded softly. "That
you still cared about him? That it didn't change the way you thought about
"No, I... "
"Why not?" Trowa interrupted fiercely.
"I don't know, Trowa, I was... I didn't know what to do!"
"So what did you do?" Wufei inserted pointedly.
Heero looked away. "I... left," he admitted unwillingly.
There was silence for a moment.
"What?" Quatre asked finally, with the air of someone who knows
that he can't possibly have heard correctly.
"I left," Heero repeated.
"You left," Quatre said blankly.
"You asshole!" Trowa bellowed. This time he didn't bother with
Heero's collar - his fist connected cleanly with the other man's jaw,
knocking him off balance and sending him sprawling to the floor. The rage
was still there, hotter than ever, spurring him on as he followed through
with the blow, bending down to lift Heero up and punch him again. He gloried
in the feel of his knuckles connecting with the other man's face - he
wanted to hit him again and again, he wanted to punish him, to hurt Heero
as Heero had hurt Duo, as he hurt thinking of the misery of Duo's past
and the realization that the American had left them all without even saying
good-bye... the pain in his hand blotted out the pain in his chest, the
fury pushed away the sorrow, and if he yelled, he wouldn't be able to
"Trowa! Allah, Trowa, stop it! What are you doing?" Quatre's
horrified voice penetrated the haze of his fury, but still he snarled
as Quatre and Wufei pulled him away from Heero.
"You heard him, Quatre!" Trowa shouted. "Do you realize
what he did? Do you know what you did?" he shouted at Heero, who
had risen slowly from the floor and who stood staring at him, rubbing
his aching jaw.
"I just... Trowa, I just couldn't... I couldn't... deal with... I
didn't know what to... "
"You couldn't deal with it." Trowa shook his head in disgust.
"What was there for you to fucking deal with, Heero? All you had
to do was be there for him. You couldn't even manage that?"
"I... couldn't stand to think of Duo being hurt like that, Trowa.
"You couldn't... you're an asshole!" Trowa shouted again. "It
was Duo who was hurt, Heero - not you! Nothing happened to you. Nothing!
You were fine! He was the one who had to deal with that, and you couldn't
even stick around when he told you about it?"
"I... I didn't want to upset him, and... "
"And so you ran away?" Trowa's throat was starting to ache from
all the shouting. "Can you imagine what that looked like to him?
He tells you that, and you take off?"
Heero was staring at him with a pleading look on his face, his skin white.
He realized what it must look like now, but he obviously hadn't thought
of it then, when it mattered.
"You asshole," Trowa muttered. "What the fuck is wrong
with you, Yuy? You were more grown-up when you were fifteen than you are
Heero snarled, his pale features darkening as Trowa continued to hurl
insults at him. "What makes you the master of tact, Barton?"
he spit out. "You have plenty to say to me, but I'd like to see if
you'd handle it any better... "
"I could hardly handle it worse," Trowa spit.
Heero sneered at him. "But you wouldn't fuck anything up anyway,
right, Trowa?" he mocked. "You're perfect, you understand Duo
better, you... "
"I do understand him better," Trowa barked.
"What makes you the fucking expert?" Heero shouted. "Why
are you... "
"Why?" Trowa yelled back. He shook Quatre and Wufei away and
stepped forward. "Why am I the expert? Because, Heero, when J was
feeding you nutritious vitamin supplements and the glory of the revolution,
I was in the same damn place as Duo - on my knees, or on my back, using
the only thing I owned to keep me from fucking starving to death!"
Trowa couldn't have shut Heero up more effectively. The Japanese man's
mouth opened, and closed, his face turned red, then white, and he looked
for a moment if he were going to fall down.
"Trowa," he managed after a minute. "Trowa, no, not you
too... you couldn't have... "
"What do you think life's like for kids who have no home, Heero?"
Trowa spat out angrily. "You... you think nice people give them shiny
apples and a warm place for the night? Welcome to the real world,"
he sneered. "I did what I had to do. You think I wanted it? You think
Duo did?" he demanded rawly, fighting to stay angry, to hold onto
the rage, to hold on to anything that would keep away the bleakness that
threatened. "When you're too small to protect yourself, and noone
else wants to bother, there's not a lot you can do when someone wants
you. And after awhile, it's easier to give it away than have it taken."
Trowa stared at the floor, not wanting to see Heero's horrified stare
anymore, and unable to even bring himself to look at Quatre and Wufei.
He wished already he hadn't said anything. But Duo... Duo had told, and
suffered, alone, thinking that everyone would rebuff him. He'd left, thinking
he'd be - that he'd been - rejected and despised. Trowa couldn't let him
suffer that alone, not when he could share it. Even if Duo didn't know
he wasn't alone, he just... couldn't leave him.
"God, Trowa." The green-eyed man looked up at Heero's horrified
"What?" he demanded flatly. "Don't know what to say? What
to do? Want to run away?" he taunted. "I know, Heero - I broke
the rules. We aren't supposed to talk about anything - we're only here
for the sex right? I'm sorry," he apologized insincerely.
He began to move toward the other man, not with the aggressive lunge from
before, but slower, more deliberately.
"I'll make it up, Heero," he promised. As he moved in on the
other man, Heero retreated, until his back was against the wall. "I'll
stay where I'm supposed to stay," he whispered, bracing his hands
on the wall on either side of Heero's head, imprisoning the man against
the wall. He moved forward and rubbed his pelvis against Heero's.
"Trowa! What the fuck are you doing?" Heero demanded, trying
to push him away.
"Isn't this what you want?" Trowa asked, leaning down to move
his mouth against Heero's neck. "You don't want anything interfering
with the sex, right? That's the whole point to everything... Nothing can
get in the way of that - not meetings, or jobs, or other people who might
want to use the conference room... certainly not other people's feelings...
Trowa pressed himself harder against Heero, grinding his hips in small
circles against the other man. He didn't know why he was doing this, didn't
know what was driving him toward it, but he couldn't stop himself, couldn't
fight the impulse to make Heero feel as uncomfortable and cheap as he'd
made Duo feel...
"Trowa! Stop it! This is... not right." Poor Wufei sounded bewildered,
the note of certainty usually so strong in his voice completely absent.
Trowa resisted the Chinese man's attempts to pull him away, just rubbing
harder against Heero. He lifted his head and stared down into the blue
eyes, staring up at him with bewilderment and pain and hurt churning within
them. He moved faster, and felt Heero's growing hardness against him.
"Trowa... don't," Heero choked, shaking his head.
"Don't what?" Trowa asked artlessly, sliding one hand off the
wall to run down Heero's side. "This is what you want, isn't it,
Heero? You just want this... nothing else... "
He slid his hand between their bodies, and wrapped his fingers around
the bulge in Heero's pants, squeezing hard.
"Trowa... STOP!" Heero shouted, shoving the taller man violently
away from him.
Trowa staggered backwards, loosing his footing and falling painfully to
the ground. He looked up and Quatre was standing over him. The blond hesitantly
extended a hand to help him up.
Trowa stared at the tentatively outstretched hand, then up into the blond's
The anger was gone, the drive to punish, the angry lust. It was all gone.
He stared up at Quatre, his chest aching from the sudden sense of betrayal
pulsing through his entire being.
It was all gone.
And Duo was gone.
He stood up, ignoring Quatre's hand.
"Trowa?" Heero asked irresolutely.
"I'm going to call the airports and the shuttle lines," Trowa
said flatly, turning his back on all of them. "I'll inquire after
Maxwell, and all our known aliases A-I. You all can divide up the rest,
if you want to bother."
"Trowa, wait a minute." Quatre.
"There's nothing more to say here," Trowa said flatly, moving
out of the door, into the corridor, ignoring the voices behind him.
He'd gotten his answers.
It didn't matter.
The idyll was over. Best to end it decisively.
But he had to find Duo.
Duo might... he would... understand. It would... it was... hurting him
too, the sudden fall of their house of cards.
He had to make sure Duo would be all right.
Then... he would be free to go back to...
To his nothing.
6] [part 8] [back
to Shoori's fic]