Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Deadly Beautiful ❯ The Lost Boys ( Chapter 47 )

A/N: School once again starts eating all my free time and brain power. Le sigh.

 

Disclaimer: I can't afford Gundam Wing. I can't even afford a decent chair to replace this ghetto, falling-apart one. So please, think of the children (me). Please don't sue me for my use of it, even though I didn't get permission.

 

 

Deadly Beautiful - Chapter 47

 

by danse

 

~*~

 

As he sat in the kitchen with his morning coffee, Trowa mused absently that it was somewhat odd that someone should be knocking on the front door at this hour. He heard Catherine moving toward the door to answer it though, so he stayed in his seat and didn't think much more about it.

 

Until he heard Catherine yell.

 

He was out of the chair and into the front entrance of the apartment before he really processed what was going on, and, at the same time that he realized he should have heard the buzzer from downstairs before he heard the knock, he saw who was at the door. He remembered that he was still holding a mug full of hot coffee and was able to rescue it before his grip went slack and he dropped it all over his feet.

 

“Heero, what the fuck are you doing here?” he cried.

 

The tired, beat-up, dirty young man in the entrance was still on his own two feet, but barely. He was starting to lean on the doorframe for support, and his legs clearly didn't have much power left in them. He looked up at Trowa, his blue eyes pained and exhausted. “Think I can stay here for a bit?” he mumbled.

 

Catherine, who had been absolutely speechless right up to this point, found words again. “Trowa, who the hell is this kid? What is he doing here? Were you telling people where we were hiding?” She looked enraged, and Trowa was briefly glad there was nothing nearby for her to throw.

 

Trowa sighed, but just as he was about to explain the awkward situation to her, Heero answered her in perfect Italian. “I'm... an associate of his. I was in a bad accident and I found my way here. Trowa didn't tell me where you were; I tracked him down.”

 

Trowa wanted to know how his strange 'associate' had managed that, as well as why he'd been bestowed with the 'honour' of finding a dead man suddenly on his doorstep, when Heero probably would have had an easier time tracking down any of the other three.

 

As if reading his mind, Heero looked at Trowa searchingly, and then spoke to him in Italian, presumably so Catherine could understand and not get hostile again. “Don't worry about it; I don't think anyone else could have found you,” he said. Trowa wondered if he could have made that sound any more arrogant if he'd tried. “I came here because Quatre's place is clearly already compromised, Wufei might be dead, and Duo's on the wrong continent.”

 

Of course, Trowa thought, realizing that Heero had his sane moments. “Wufei is still alive. He's doing alright,” Trowa answered. “Everyone thinks you're dead, though.”

 

Heero's eyes widened briefly, but then he nodded slowly, once. “That explains why you were so shocked to see me,” he said quietly, possibly not intending for Trowa to hear him. “About that,” he said more loudly, looking up at Trowa again. “Can you keep this to yourself for a little longer? I just....”

 

Trowa raised his free hand to silence the half-dead boy. “Whatever you wish,” he answered. Then he frowned. “How long do you want to stay here? How bad of shape are you in?” he asked.

 

Heero pressed his lips together into a line, looking pained. He slumped a little more against the doorframe. “I haven't slept three hours in total in the past three days since the accident,” he said. “I think I have a concussion. Cuts and bruises all over. I also broke my right arm.” Trowa noticed for the first time that the arm in question was hanging limply at Heero's side. “I haven't had the strength to set it myself,” he explained, almost apologetically.

 

“Why haven't you been to a doctor?” Catherine exclaimed suddenly, stepping forward somewhat from the sidelines. “Are you crazy? You'll catch fever!”

 

Guilt flashed across Heero's face. Too late, Trowa thought, interpreting the brief show of emotion. Sparing a brief glance at Catherine, who looked less angry and more worried now, he took a step forward, setting down his coffee mug on a nearby shelf. “Heero, you can stay here as long as you need,” he said. “You've already died once; we don't need it happening again.”

 

“Thank--” was all Heero managed to say before he fainted suddenly. Trowa leaped forward and caught his teammate before he hit the tiled floor, noting with alarm that Heero was as light as a small child in his arms. Then again, titanium was surprisingly light, too. Catherine shook her head ruefully, but led the way down the hall to Trowa's room. Trowa picked Heero up and, being careful of the broken arm, carried him to the waiting bed, pulling off Heero's dirty sneakers before tucking him in.

 

“When he wakes up, we'll look after the injuries and give him a bath,” Trowa's sister said stiffly from the doorway. “I'm going to call a doctor to get that arm and the concussion looked at. Meanwhile, make sure he doesn't move around too much in his sleep and hurt himself more.” She disappeared into the kitchen without another word. Trowa pulled a chair from the corner and sat down beside the bed with a book, feeling the bite of her frigidness.

 

When she returned ten minutes later with a fresh cup of coffee and a hot water bottle, though, he smiled just a little.

 

***

 

It was the third day since Duo had found out the horrible news about Heero and told Hilde about it, and she was noticing with considerable alarm that his mental state only appeared to be getting worse. She looked at him over the top of her cereal bowl, taking in his bloodshot eyes and the puffy shadows developing underneath them; his messy, unattended hair, flying out of its braid at all angles; the coffee cup barely balanced in his hand; the way he was slouching against the kitchen counter with all of his weight, staring at a spot of nothingness near his hand. Dollars to donuts, he hasn't slept three hours in three nights, she thought ruefully. She took a sip of orange juice, studying him carefully, and then put down her glass a bit loudly as she steeled herself to make a suggestion.

 

“Duo.”

 

“...Mmh?” he grunted a bit latently, still staring at nothing.

 

She picked up her spoon again and started playing with it as she talked. “I think maybe you should go see a doctor.”

 

“...Why?” He looked up at her this time, a suspicious expression on his face.

 

Hilde put down her spoon again and gave him a level look. “I know it hasn't been long and I know that you're probably having a hard time right now, but I think you should go see a doctor and see if they'll give you pills. You're going to crash badly if you don't get rest, especially with the things you do, and I really don't see you suddenly getting better anytime soon.”

 

His expression darkened more. “I'm fine. I don't need to see a doctor, and I don't need to go on any goddamn pills.”

 

Her expression darkened to match. “What are you gonna do, then? Go on like this for weeks until you either get sick, go crazy, or turn into a zombie? Jesus Christ, I'm only talking about a pill to help you sleep. You do dangerous work, Duo; you're going to get killed if you don't look after yourself!”

 

“...It's only been three days,” he growled. “I'm a big boy and I've lasted this long without a mommy, so I think I can pull myself together enough to function, thanks.” His tone couldn't have been more acidic.

 

Hilde gnawed on the inside of her cheek for a moment as she glared daggers at him, trying not to lose control with someone who was not only dangerous, but also possibly feeling unstable and emotional. Finally her self-control won out, and she sighed. “I'm just trying to help you,” she pleaded. “Is it wrong to care about your well-being? I mean, who else do you have to turn to right now? I understand what you're going through--”

 

“No, you don't.” His voice was quiet, but he could have screamed it and had the same effect. The room went deathly silent and almost felt cold. Hilde got off of her stool slowly and deliberately, her face stony even as her hands, clenched into fists, quivered at her sides like they wanted very badly to break something. Preferably something attached to Duo.

 

“You're right,” she said stiffly. “You're absolutely right, as usual, Duo. I mean, what do I know about losing loved ones?”

 

As she left, she slammed the front door so hard behind her that her abandoned cereal bowl rattled on the counter.

 

Left alone in the achingly silent apartment, Duo stared at the door, not quite comprehending yet what had just happened. Finally, blinking hard and pressing his lips together into a thin line, he picked up all of the dirty dishes from the counter and dumped them noisily into the sink before stumbling back into his room to collapse on the bed. He knew sleep wasn't coming, but he had to try anyway.

 

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A/N: Bwahahahahaaaaa so much ANGST. I love it. Please comment.