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Sub Rosa: Catch-22
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Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is still not mine. Dammit.

Note: And why does everything think a certain fear of Duo's is unfounded??? (hehehe...)

So far, everything was going as I'd planned.

It had been three weeks ago that Heero had talked me into staying. Trowa had made it no secret that he wanted me gone and only tolerated my existence for Quatre. Quatre had been so happy to hear that I was staying, he'd practically missed my condition. He was upset to hear that I was only planning to stay for one month, but he jumped right back onto his feet... figuratively, at least. He and I were both stuck on wheelchair detail. Wufei had come over and spoken to Heero for a time, but they'd eventually broken apart and turned to me, giving me their full attention.

One more week, and the subject would come up. I'd planned things perfectly, and so far everything was going smoothly. With my grudging acceptance of situations and attempts to make the best of things, even Heero had lost his suspicions. Slowly I'd let my laughter sound more natural. Slowly I'd started making more natural jokes. Every once in a while I would pause and look confused. I would stare at those around me in semi-wonder. It was working perfectly.

But surprisingly... I was finding it hard to believe I was faking it.

Wufei was still sarcastic and funny. Quatre was still as bubbly and kind as ever. Trowa was stand-offish, but I'd accepted that such would be the case before I found myself crossing the threshold into Heero's house.

But the most wonderful, the most agonizing part, was Heero. He fucking doted on me. When I starting wheeling my sorry-ass self over to the fridge, Heero would get up and grab whatever it was I wanted. He learned quickly what I liked and what I didn't and altered his shopping to include foods and drinks that appealed to me. He tolerated my worst moods, fake or real. He smiled. God, did he smile.

More often than not, I felt the pain tear through me, over and over, like Prometheus' cursed hawk was eating at my liver instead of his. At night, alone in Heero's spare room, the pain came to overpower me. I never cried, I would never be so weak, but God did it hurt. During the day, I had my smile to hide behind. But at night, I had nothing but my fears and sorrow. They were no defense.

But I would continue, because Heero wasn't crying.

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Every story unless otherwise claimed is Kayura's, and is copyrighted 2006 under her name.