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Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine. Duh.
Only You
Chapter 19
It was hell to step back, to let the doctors and professionals swarm around Duo. Trowa must have told them how dire the situation
was, because they had all they needed – Heero watched dully as they shocked Duo, then again. They were shouting, just
as his heart was screaming. Duo, he silently pleaded. Don't let it be too late.
They finally loaded Duo up, having brought back his heartbeat. Heero's fears weren't abated, however, as he heard them screaming
out his injuries as they moved him to the elevator, which Quatre had fixed (after having messed with it himself). Broken ribs,
broken leg, broken arm. Sever misuse of his already injured arm, acute hemorrhaging from his head wound... pulled tendons,
discolorations on what the doctors approximated was about eighty percent of his body, lacerations on thirty-five percent.
His hearing hazed after he heard about the ruptured kidney. He felt sick.
Wufei was also carted off – five broken ribs, discoloration, lacerations... not nearly as serious, but still... bad.
Duo went down one elevator, Wufei the other. There were voices around him, people talking. Some asking questions about the
situation, others talking about what they'd seen. Others inspecting the two bodies lying inert on the ground. All of the noise
wracked him. Could no one else see how empty the room was? There were no stupid jokes. No laughter. No... Duo.
He heard Trowa speaking, heard that voice come through past all the others, then found himself being led by the medics. Heard
the word shock. It didn't matter. His eyes still stared at where Duo's makeshift stretcher had disappeared after the elevator
doors had closed. Waited an eternity for his turn to come up, for the time when either Wufei's or Duo's elevator would come
back up to get him.
He heard another familiar voice – Commander Une – but even that couldn't truly reach him. There were no words
to be heard then.
Duo. Duo. He despaired over what would end up happening to his love... the man he'd never admitted his feelings for. He thought
of his silent promise and lowered his head in shame.
<*>
A week. A week and still he did not wake.
Heero visited every day, as soon as Duo was allowed visitors. Four days ago.
Those three days that Heero couldn't see Duo were a haze in his mind. He had gone to the hospital with Wufei. Duo had gone
immediately in a separate ambulance. There was a third one there that stayed to treat Trowa and Quatre, who had minimal injuries.
They both had apologized for it later – as if they should have been more injured, considering Duo and Wufei's states.
Heero managed a tiny smile at the thought of Wufei. His partner was sick and tired of the hospital, but Sally Po, the Preventors'
head medic, had ordered Wufei to remain in the hospital for another couple of days. Wufei had been grousing about it when
Heero had visited.
But he had stopped immediately to ask about Duo.
Heero... had been a wreck once he'd been released from the hospital. Still unable to look, let alone speak, to Commander Une,
he had allowed Trowa and Quatre to drive him to his house – which served to make him think about Duo's house. A thought
he had needed to chase out of his mind immediately, but a thought he could not fully get rid of.
He had allowed Quatre to tuck him into his bed and take care of the bills that had accrued, even knowing that the man would
pay for those bills himself.
When he'd awakened, he'd been feverish to see Duo. When he'd been told that Duo wasn't allowed visitors... was still in critical
condition...
He'd broken down again. Quatre tenderly took care of him, the resident mother-hen of their little group. He had managed to
apologize to Quatre for all the trouble he was causing the next morning, only to be gently told to shut up.
The second day... Heero remembered going into work, dazed and fearful and hardly aware. Une had called him up to her office,
taken one look at him, and had ordered him back to his house. When he'd only sat there in front of her, she'd sighed and given
him paperwork. He'd finished it all in record time.
The third day had been a bit better. He'd learned that Wufei was fine and had managed to enter the hospital to visit him.
Wufei must have met with Trowa and Quatre earlier, because he hadn't mentioned Duo at all, but had instead snapped at Heero
about not taking care of himself.
They'd had a fight, one that close friends sometimes had, one that only strengthened their friendship. Wufei was the one who
had informed Heero about Une's reaction to their insubordination. Instead of being pissed, she'd been... impressed. Especially
when she'd found Jenson's brother on her payroll. And had promptly sent his ass into prison. The trial would be in a couple
of months. Until then, they wouldn't have to worry about him. A burden that Heero hadn't worried about at the time, but one
it was nice to not have to deal with anyway.
Une had also sent out invitations to Quatre, Trowa, and Duo saying that they were more than welcome in her department. Trowa
and Quatre had already declined, but Duo obviously...
Wufei had managed to say that it would help Duo with his financial troubles before Heero had blanked out again.
Since then... he'd continued going to work. He'd visited Duo as soon as he'd found out that Duo was able to have visitors...
he'd left in the middle of work. He doubted Une minded, since he'd done even more work than he usually did, which was normally
twice what most did to begin with.
Duo... had been a wreck. His braid had been done poorly, meaning someone had untied it. To clean it? He was pale and limp.
Though Duo was always shades lighter than he should be, he was never this white... this lifeless. Duo was always moving. Always.
He had bags under his eyes, despite having slept for four days.
But worse, worse than all of that... were the tubes. Everywhere. And casts. And bandages. He looked... dead. Like he was already
dead, but the machines were keeping him alive anyway.
There was one in his nose, three in his arms, one on his left hand. A cast around his arm and leg, bandages tight around his
waist. His bangs were constantly stuck on the butterfly bandage on his head. He'd been told once how many stitches Duo had
needed, but he couldn't think of the number now. Didn't dare try to dredge it up.
Thinking about it, looking at Duo like that... he couldn't get the picture of Duo lying lifeless on that floor out of his
head... couldn't stop hearing that heart stop. It haunted him. He had nightmares. His training kept the nightmares from interrupting
his ability to sleep, but his sleep wasn't restful in the slightest. He kept thinking about Duo...
...About how he had failed to protect him.
And he couldn't help thinking... that his promise to himself to tell Duo his feelings... was why Duo wasn't waking up. That
Duo... should not be loved by a war machine like him.
If only Duo would wake up... he didn't care about anything else... as long as Duo lived... as long as he lived...
Nothing else mattered.
<*>
Being stuck on a bloody hospital bed while his best friend ran himself into the ground was absolutely, positively maddening.
He didn't need Quatre's daily updates to see that Heero was digging himself into a hole. All he needed to see was that empty,
lost, hopeless look on his friend's face. And he could do nothing. In this bed or out of it... he could do nothing.
He feared what would happen if Maxwell died. He feared for Heero... and he feared for everyone else.
What Maxwell had never realized... was just what sort of influence he'd been on the rest of them. Shy Quatre had found the
strength to become more sociable... had found the strength to turn to Trowa and confess his feelings (which had given Wufei
a nosebleed at the time, and which he also could never live down). He had given life to Heero, who had found no reason for
such a thing before. He had given Trowa a sense of peace, a sense that there was more to life than fighting and surviving
as a means for comrades. Had taught Trowa the value of friends. As for himself... he had found a reason for friends, as well.
For comrades. For allies. For a group of people who would stand by him no matter what. And he had found the first bit of peace
he'd felt... since his world had crashed around him. The day his fiancée had died.
The problem with all that... had been the fact that none of them had truly realized Duo's worth... until he was gone. When
Wufei had found himself alone after the war, he'd hunted up Heero and joined Preventors with him as his partner. He'd met
Trowa in his circus when they'd come into town... had been there that very day as Quatre walked up to Trowa and told him he
loved the tall ex-mercenary. They had all come together again, had all formed their group. Each had learned from Duo how nice
it was to have people you trust at your back, willing to help you... whether you want the help or not.
But... despite how hard they had tried... they'd been unable to find Duo.
Now... now, after all this time, they had finally found him. Only... only now...
Wufei closed his eyes. He was not the type to weep. But... the thought of them being too late...
<*>
“It hurts.”
Trowa held his lover tight, knowing that Quatre could not escape the pain he felt right now. The only thing he could do was
to stand by him and try to help him through. Still... his worry over Duo's health made him have to ask. “Love... how
is he?”
“Better... than the first few days. But...” Quatre had tears falling down his face. The sight of those tears always
hurt him and brought envy to him, as well. He never found the ability to cry, even now when he felt the urge to. Quatre, ever
stronger than him in emotions, was able to show his emotions without hesitation, without question or fear of censure. But
seeing Quatre's tears always left Trowa feeling helpless. “Trowa,” Quatre spoke again, and his voice was full
of anguish. “He doesn't... he doesn't know if he wants to come back. And as long as he's unsure...”
Trowa understood, though imagining Duo in that hospital bed for an unknown period of time... Duo, who was never one to lie
down for so long...
“But...” And here Quatre could hardly speak. Trowa hugged Quatre tighter, wishing he could take his lover's pain
as his own. Knowing he couldn't. “But... Trowa... if he decides he doesn't want to... if Duo...” Quatre couldn't
finish this time, either, but he didn't have to. Trowa more than understood. It made him hold Quatre even tighter than before
and rest his head on his love's shoulder. That... he couldn't even think of that possibility.
<*>
Am I... Am I dead?
No. No... This isn't Hell. Hell is so much worse... isn't it? Father Maxwell always spoke of a hot, burning place, full of
fire and sin.
But fire sheds light... it's too dark here. It's... too dark...
Sometimes, despite this darkness, I see things... lights flashing on and off, a white bed. Mostly I see memories... things
I never wanted to see again.
And sometimes I think I here Heero's voice... speaking to me. Once, I heard Quatre. Other voices... unknown. Unfamiliar. I
remember trying to fight them, but I was too weak.
Too weak... the story of my life.
Here, in the darkness, I never see anything other than those memories or that light. When I'm not hearing voices, I can only
hear myself. Hear my darkest whispers. The ones I never listen to when there are other stimuli to occupy my mind. Other thoughts.
Other concerns.
I hear me whisper that I don't want to live. I hear me whisper that I don't belong. That I'll never belong. That this world
does not want someone like me, a pathetic street rat playing himself off as a jokester while maintaining the part of him that
cackles – Shinigami. That I will never be accepted by those I love so much. Those who were supposed to be so very similar
to me. Those that shun me... that despise my existence. If that's the truth... if they don't care... if it's true that I don't
belong...
Then what am I still doing here?
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