Title: First Confrontation [HIV 2/?]
Author: Darkwood
Rating: PG
[A/N: This story deals with mature themes in a past-tense situation, and the angst that can come afterwards. The first and second parts employ more angst, but please bear with me as the story progresses, I think you'll be as pleased with the way that it passes through the stages of dealing with the mature themes as I am with them. This is why this story is taking as long to finish as it is, I am trying my best to accurately represent one person's struggle with the issues within.]
***
Upon waking, Duo shoots up in bed. “Where the hell am I?” He looks down at his state of nudity and pulls the covers around himself. “Who the hell did that?”
Another person walks into the room. Duo looks up to see Heero.
“H-Heero.”
“What’s wrong with you, Duo?”
“What do you mean?”
“Throwing up at that theater, allowing the usher to cop a feel from you?”
Embarrassed, Duo pulls the cover up to his face, waiting for a slap. When none comes, he peeks out from under it. Heero’s arms are crossed, but his face is worried rather than angry. Duo drops the sheet, despite his nudity, and rubs his neck awkwardly.
“Uh, well, you see it’s…”
“What happened?”
“Don’t you read the newspapers?”
“What do you mean?”
Duo, slightly taking heart from this, leans back on to the pillows behind him. Heero sits on the bed next to him, and he shies away, involuntarily. Heero looks puzzled down at him.
“You’re not the Duo that I remember,” he says.
“I’m not the Duo I was in the war, you mean?” Duo says harshly.
“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” the unsure reply comes.
“Well maybe the war brought out a different me. It sure as hell brought out a different you. You’re talking to me, really talking to me, and you never used to do that, Heero.”
Looking a bit uncomfortable, Heero nods. He seems bewildered by his own actions, and he says, “I know, but you never passed out and let me take you wherever I wanted. You used to put up a fight, at least.” He peers intently at Duo’s face, as though checking him for the affects of drugs.
Duo, in turn, stares at the ceiling, “Well, maybe I don’t care any more.”
Heero puts a hand on Duo’s cheek, turning the longhaired pilot to face him. “Why not? Duo, what’s changed so much?”
“Do you mind if I rest here some more?”
“No, go right ahead and do it, Duo. I don’t mind.”
“Well then, I think I will.”
“What was it that guy was calling you?”
“Nicholas Smith. It’s my cover name. Now get the hell out and let me go to sleep.” Duo turns over so his back is towards the ex Wing Pilot.
Heero, slightly daunted, heads for his laptop. He stares at the display as it boots up, and begins a newspaper search. His only clue the name given by the usher and just by Duo. ‘Mr. Nicholas Smith, so that’s who you’ve been for so long…’
Finally, Heero finds the article in question.
Mister Nicholas Smith, age eighteen, was found in an alleyway on Thursday of last week, passed out and surrounded by dried blood, which proved to be his own. The unconscious man was rushed to the hospital and his wounds were treated. It has today been released that Smith was raped repeatedly and left in the alley to die, and in a few more hours would have been so. The alley is rarely used by anyone but workers, who have learned that “it is better to ignore what is inexplicable,” (source unknown.)
This reporter has to wonder what motive was behind the attack on Smith, who has been an upstanding citizen all of his years on the L2 colony.
If this violence continues, will we see other Smith’s filling hospital beds in shock?
The date on the article is six months prior, and attached is the follow up on ‘Mister Smith’s’ return to his home on 71st Street.
Angry, Heero presses the power button on his laptop in disgust. He turns his chair around to look in on Duo.
Upon entering the bedroom, however, he finds it empty.
‘What is all of this about, Duo?’ Heero sits on the bed and puts his head in his hands, ‘Can’t you tell?’ a voice in his head responds to the question.
***
Well, at least I’m out of there. Heero was being crazy, and I don’t think I could’ve handled him pitying me about what happened. He would still look down on me, if he knew. He’d look at me like a foreign element, and he might attempt to kill me.
I’d rather die by his hands, but I don’t want to cause him to become sick like me. That’d be pretty damn funny, though. I don’t think that many would see my irony, though, the God of Death brought down by an internal killer.
Well, might as well get home.
***
“Quatre when was the last time you heard from Duo?”
“I talked to him today.”
“Did he call you?”
“No, I invited him to Thanksgiving. He agreed.”
“Has he called you at all lately?”
“No.”
“How long has it been?”
“About… well, about six months.”
“Thanks, Quatre.”
“Heero.”
“Yes?”
“You’ll come too, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll make it.”
“Make sure Duo comes.”
“Yeah, we’ll be there.”
“Take good care of him.”
“Quatre, do you know something about what happened to him?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“Duo just became… pardon me… Nicholas has been very busy lately.”
“Does he still come around your house at all?”
“No. Not since when he stopped calling.” There is a pause. “I see what you mean about something happening to him. I’ll check up on it.”
“He was raped.”
“What!”
“He was raped, but that’s all I’ve been able to find out since he left.”
“I’ll definitely look in to it.”
“Tell me how it goes.”
“Sure, I’ll be just back.”
“No, there is a week until the departure you sent me, him too?”
“Yeah, eight o’clock on the 25th up there.”
“I’ll get something from him.”
“Do you still…”
“Yes, good bye, Quatre.”
Time for plan B.
***
“Mister Smith, the package you’ve been expecting arrived.”
“That’s great, I’ll take it.”
“Here you are, son, and take good care of yourself over the holidays.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She’s a nice woman, Misses Peterson, and very dependable. She nursed me for six weeks while I was scared to go out in the open alone, and had her son go with me. That’s why some people thought I was gay for a while.
Well, I am, but I’m not gay with him.
I brought Hilde over for a while afterwards, too. She rearranged my apartment how ‘it was unfriendly for burglars’ she said. I told her about how I felt, and she healed a part of me that was hurting still.
She couldn’t fix me completely, only Heero could do that, but I won’t go in to that, because I won’t hurt him like that. I won’t burden him like that, no matter what.
I’ll just stay away from outdoors again for a few days. I think Thursday I’ll stop work at the soup kitchen, and Friday I sleep in. Saturday is my plane, then. I really wish I could’ve stayed until Saturday, but I feel like I’m getting worse.
Thursday evening, and I’m beat. Sprawled on the bed, in fact. It’s a nice apartment, really. I fit in, with all the dark woods and the dark colors. I am perfect for this room, this place.
It is utterly and completely mine. And now I can make my own food and get some more rest. But since fate doesn’t want that, I hear a shout.
***
“The door is for you, Nick!”
“You, really don’t need to announce it like that, Misses Peterson.”
“I know you’ll do the trick, Allen, he’s been so down in the dumps lately.”
“Really, Misses…” Duo is at the top of the stairs. I look up, and his eyes widen. “I’ll just go up now, if you don’t mind, Misses Peterson.”
“Sure thing.”
I follow him up and in to his room.
***
“What are you doing here, Heero?”