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Drug Trip	By : Zethsaire Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male > Heero/Duo Views: 790 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters. I don't make money off this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Author's notes: Currently the couples in this fic are ...none. You'll just have to read it to see what happens! But I can guarantee that if you don't like 1x2, this fic ain't for you!

This story is mature for drugs, violence and sexual themes. If you feel uncomfortable with that, you shouldn't read it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I don't plan on making money of this fic in any way. It is for pure enjoyment and writing practice only!

Prologue

Sunday, March 16th, AC 204

It's not every day your long lost best friend shows up on your doorstep completely shitfaced. I hadn't seen him in almost six years; it'd hurt at first, but I got over it eventually. He was the kind of person who, if he didn't want to be found, you wouldn't find him. We had a fight, he took off. Never thought I'd see him again. Guess he proved me wrong.

I almost shot him when he knocked at my door. He was skinny – super unhealthy looking, like he hadn't eaten in weeks. Hair covering his face, tangled, unwashed and uncut. His eyes were sunken in and bloodshot, and he was twitching. My hand went for my gun, until he spoke. No matter what he looked like, there was no mistaking that voice. Husky, wild, untamable. Body bruised and soul shaken, that voice was still strong.

"Hey Duo." He wheezed. "I uh…I know I yelled at you a lot yesterday. I was a dumbass."

If Duo hadn't figured out something was wrong by now, that clued him in real quick. Of course he knew about soldiers having flashbacks, he'd had them himself, but it was really weird for someone, especially Heero, to be flashing back more than six years. Especially since he'd stalked off that night, anything but repentant, and hadn't called, emailed, or even given Duo any reason to think he was still alive.

"Yeah, you were." Duo peered at the man through his doorway. He gripped a filthy duffel bag with both hands, those hands shaking. He was covered in sweat, and his pupils were dilated. Duo had never thought he'd see the day that Heero Yuy, Perfect Soldier, was on a drug trip.

"I know." Heero sounded a little angrier this time. "I was going to apologize. Whatever. I knew this was a stupid idea." He turned away and stalked off. Or he tried to, but he was stumbling and swaying so badly, he just looked pathetic.

Duo glared at him as he went, and then started as he realized what a douche bag he was being. Who gets to have a second chance at reconciling with their best friend? He'd already thought Heero was gone from his life the first time. After tonight, well, with the shape Heero was in Duo honestly didn't know if he'd last long.

"Oi, Heero! Come back. I'm sorry too. Hey!" He ran after Heero, who was either ignoring him or couldn't hear him anymore. Depending on how bad he was tripping, he could be completely in his own world.

He caught up to Heero easily, but wasn't sure whether he should touch him or not. If Heero thought he was an enemy…

Duo looked at his wasted figure, and at how bad he was shaking, and decided that Heero probably wasn't a match for him in this state anyways. He carefully reached out and grabbed Heero's shoulder.

"Hey, I said I was sorry. You don't look too good. Why don't you stay at the apartment for tonight?"

Heero flinched, and spun around, his eyes wide and panicked. He didn't try to hurt Duo, but he did twist defensively out of his grasp and back up a few steps. He looked at Duo for a few moments, completely confused.

"Duo? What…what are you doing here? What's going on?" He reached out a hand, and touched Duo lightly on the cheek. "Oh God. You're real. Oh God!"

Duo sprang forward to catch him as his eyes rolled up and he fainted. He looked at what was left of the man he used to call his best friend, and sighed. Heero wasn't heavy, and Duo started to worry even more as he carried him back to his apartment. Even during the war, Heero had weighed more than this. They had both carried packs that weighed more than he did now. If Duo had to guess, he'd say Heero was maybe ninety pounds, soaking wet. And that scared him.

He got Heero back to the apartment without much fuss – they hadn't really gone all that far. He laid the man down on his futon, clearing some books and vids off it to make room for him. After locking his door again, he came back and gently covered Heero with blankets. He felt foolish, tucking him into bed like that. Heero looked so small and defenseless, Duo's heart ached. All the pain and bitterness he'd put between them melted away as he gently lifted Heero's head up and put a pillow underneath.

Did he think this was going to miraculously change things between them? Not really. But he couldn't turn his back on his friend now. There had been so many nights after Heero had disappeared that he'd cried himself to sleep wishing he could bring him back, could apologize somehow. He'd been given another chance, and no matter how fucked up Heero had gotten; Duo was determined to make it right. Heero had come to him, bad trip or no, to him, not anyone else. He wasn't going to throw that away, no matter how hard it was.

It was going to be hard. Duo had grown up on the street; he knew an addict when he saw one. Heero had it bad. It was hard to tell exactly what Heero had gotten himself hooked on, but Duo had seen the track marks when he covered him up, which probably meant heroin. That could account for a bad trip too, but something hard enough to make him forget so much, that was more like party drugs; ecstasy or LSD. All that shit was nasty, and Duo had watched more than one addict waste away on the street, selling every cent they owned for another hit.

He didn't even know if Heero wanted help. If he was tripping back to six years ago, he wouldn't have been addicted then. He was coming to talk to Duo about an argument, not ask him for help curing addictions to who knew how many drugs. Even if Heero did want help, Duo wasn't sure he was the best person for the job. He'd managed to steer clear of the harder drugs easily enough; after watching kids your age die from overdoses right in front of you, you kinda got turned off some things. But he had an addictive personality, and he still drank and smoked on a regular basis. Hell, he'd been addicted to Heero himself at one point, and that had not been a fun dependency to get over. Having Heero here, in his very small home, with highly addictive substances involved, was not really a good idea. Then again, when had he been known to make good decisions?

Duo sighed. This wasn't getting him anywhere, and he had to work in the morning, assuming he wasn't too busy detaining a psychotic, withdrawn Heero from running down to the nearest back alley to sell his soul for some more heroin. Assuming Heero didn't kill him in his sleep, mistaking him for some enemy. Assuming he even woke up in the morning.

He stopped that train of thought right there, and forced himself to go get ready for bed. He was already in his pajamas, so he kicked off his shoes and shuffled over to his small bathroom. As he looked in the mirror and brushed his teeth he tried to stop thinking about how much he'd grown, and how little Heero had. As he spat his toothpaste into the sink he told himself to stop worrying about what he'd do with Heero while he was at work. As he rinsed out his mouth, he told his brain to stop thinking about what it was going to be like to sleep in the same apartment as Heero again.

Putting up his toothbrush and snapping off the light, he walked back out into the main room. His place was small; his bedroom doubled as an office, which he ran his business out of. His kitchen was no more than a counter in-between a stove and a refrigerator, with a sink and dishwasher off to one side. There was the bathroom – small enough that you couldn't close the door unless you were actually sitting on the toilet, with a stand up shower that was much too small for someone Duo's size. A growth spurt after Heero had left had put him just over six feet, and small spaces he used to find comforting now caused him a great deal of discomfort.

The main room held a television, the futon, coffee table, and a round table with a cheap plastic chair that Duo usually ate at before relaxing to some videogames, old movies or cartoons. His bed was right near the door in his bedroom, and if he angled himself just right, he could watch tv from there. On his days off, sometimes his only movement for hours consisted of rolling out of bed and taking two steps to the futon. Now, the futon with Heero's still form on it seemed much too close to his bed. He tiptoed by, hoping not to wake the man. Any normal person strung up that bad would sleep for the rest of the night and the rent of the next day, so there wasn't really any reason to worry. That didn't stop him from doing it though – this was Heero, and he was hardly normal.

He spent almost an hour trying to fall asleep, listening to sound of Heero's uneven breathing. There had been a time when that sound put him to sleep in seconds; when it had meant that all was right with the world, that he was safe and protected. Now it kept him awake, listening for that next breath, hardly believing that he was hearing it again, as if unless he paid attention, it would slip away again. The knowledge that he had to be the protector, the one who made everything okay, was hard for him. He wasn't a coward, and he had faith in his own abilities as far as self-preservation went. But everyone he'd loved before, everyone he'd tried to protect; well they hadn't fared so well. And if the same thing happened with Heero – if he lost him, he knew he'd never forgive himself.

Finally, sleep came to him. As he slipped away, he dreamed that it was six years ago, and he and Heero were living together, roommates and best friends. Heero was going to get up wretchedly early, and scold him for sleeping in. They would have breakfast together, before they both went to work. Duo would go to the shop where he was currently apprenticing under Howard, learning the business side of the trade, and Heero would go off to job at the Preventers. Une worked him hard, and he was often stressed out, but he always took time out of his day to spend with Duo. When they got home Duo would cook dinner, and make fun of Heero for how awful he was in the kitchen, and they'd watch movies and talk, before Duo talked Heero into playing videogames with him. They'd stay up most of the night, racing, fighting evil, or dueling it out in the ultimate showdown, while Heero tried to pretend he wasn't having just as much fun as Duo was, and Duo tried his hardest to make Heero smile.

And sometimes, very, very rarely, he would succeed.

End Prologue

Author's notes: Welcome to the new and revised Drug Trip! The first four chapters just have small changes, fixing grammar and point of view mistakes, and working to maintain a much better level of consistency between places and times of day. I re-read it the other day and it was so confusing, I don't know how you guys put up with me! Anyways, I hope you like the new fic. Comments and suggestions are always appreciated.

Zethsaire, out!
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Drug Trip