Descent of an Angel

Ardra: WOOT! New chapter! I'm on a ROLL!

Heero: You spent three months not updating. Putting up two chapters so close together does not qualify, in definition, as a 'roll'.

Ardra: ... Has anyone ever told you that you are such a buzz kill?

Duo: Yes!

Heero: Hn.

Ardra: Well, anyways. I'm still in a good mood today, and since I am, most of the time that means WRITING! *throws rainbow confetti into the air*

Heero and Duo: *sweat drop*

Ardra: Now! Down to business! *pops knuckles* OW! No one told me that hurts!

Duo: *snickers*

To all my Reviewers, thank you for posting your thoughts and comments. I am not as used to using AFF as I am using FF so doing things like the bold and italics that I have on that site don't come up over here. Once I figure out how to make the bold lettering and the italics, it should be easier for everything to follow... I hope. Bare with me, I beg of you because I'm still new at this. My last fictions posted on here was a while ago and I have no idea how those are even still existing since they weren't that good. XD

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Chapter 12

Yawning softly, fingers running through mused hair, Trowa stood before the counter, a silver spoon being turned slowly in the dark brown liquid in his cup. He watched the gentle stirring of the liquid as he made sure the sugar was completely melted into the black life giving liquid. It was a really slow morning. Day four of their 'shifts', and it didn't seem to be getting better since they had someone up when Duo was leaving his room and checking out the house twice in four days. It was a nerve-wracking experience. When Duo finally noticed them both times, the fear and the panic that took over his whole form as he bolted back to the safety of his room, was a saddening sight.

Duo seemed to be relaxing more now, but he didn't trust any of them, that fact was displayed every night. The first time they had dinner together, the four of them, Quatra's chef had served them the most perfectly prepared steaks, diced boiled potatoes and fresh greens, but Duo refused to touch any of it. Since then, he wouldn't touch anything that he hadn't seen made, or cut and portioned for all of again, Trowa picked up his cup and turned, not looking up as he made his cup swirl as he blew on it so he could take a sip. After sampling the best part of coffee, the first taste, he lifted his head, only to be startled by the sight of Duo before him.

Hissing in pain, Trowa turned as he placed the cup of now half full coffee onto the counter and grabbed a towel. He wrapped his scalded hand in it, then turned to the thin man in the doorway.

"Duo? What are you doing? What the hell were you thinking? Sneaking up on me?" Trowa demanded as he flicked his injured hand through the air to try and give it a little relief from the pain caused by the scolding liquid.

Lifting his head when he didn't receive a response, Trowa winced a little as he remembered how harsh his words had been. Duo didn't need that, especially not from him.

"Duo. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. You shocked me, that's all." Trowa explained, trying to keep from moving towards the man.

Duo flinched away from him, then side stepped around him, keeping his distance from the long banged male as if he was afraid that Trowa would physically attack him at any moment. Trowa bit his lip in anger, silently berating himself for his slip. He was trying really hard to keep his cool around Duo, even if he was really angry or overly tired. It wasn't fair to the already frail man that he would take even the slightest bit of his frustration out on him. After all that Duo had been through in his life, he didn't deserve even the slightest bit of anger from the likes of him. His heightened senses caught the sound of soft feet padding up the hall before Quatra rounded the corner.

"Trowa-Oh! Morning, Duo. I didn't know you were awake yet." Quatra said, giving the light brown-haired male a smile.

Glancing at him, he didn't respond to the greeting before he turned his gaze away, his eyes betraying the distrust and uncertainty he was feeling more than his own emotions did to Quatra's Space Heart.

Biting his lip, the blond shifted rather uncomfortably, "Your physical therapist will be here in a few hours to see you."

"You arranged for him to come here?" Trowa asked, retrieving his coffee from the counter.

"Of course." Quatra beamed as Trowa walked past him to the living room to catch the news.

A loud, metallic crash followed by a sharp, painful hiss made the blond turn back into the kitchen. Duo had attempted to heat a pan to cook a package of left over ground beef, and only managed to burn himself on the pan. Now the pan, and the ground beef, laid ruined at Duo's feet, the distraught and injured man falling to his knees to clean the mess.

"Duo! Are you okay?"

Duo flinched away when Quatra suddenly appeared beside him, producing paper towels to aid in the cleaning of the raw meat.

"What do you care?"

Blinking in shock, turquoise eyes raised to meet only bangs obscuring half lidded violet. Duo's head was half lowered into the mess, his body turned away from Quatra, all his muscles tense, ready to bolt. This was how it always was with Duo. He feared this was how it would always be now, that he would never be able to get as close to the man as he had once been, or even gain enough of his trust to sit beside him.

"Duo, I have always cared. You are like a brother to me."

"A brother, huh? A brother you can just forget about whenever you deem it necessary to?"

"What? No!"

"Don't even start with me! You blocked me and forgot about me for five years!"

"I didn't know you were taken, Duo!"

"You would have if you didn't just file me away! Fitting that the business man filed away a friend that needed him, huh?" Duo growled out, raising his head to glare at the blond before him.

"I made a mistake, Duo. You're going to keep throwing this in my face?"

"I will never forget what you did to me! I told myself for a very long time that you could sense my pain, my suffering. I clung to the hope that you felt me and would send the others to rescue me if you didn't come for me yourself. I spent two years, two god damned years holding onto the hope that your ever-observant Space Heart would feel me. After two years... two years of beatings, poisons, starving and emotional breakdowns, I came to realize two things. One, that you were never coming for me, that you were blocking me and didn't want anything to do with me, and two, you never cared in the first place!"

"That's not-"

"You hated me as much as the others did! You wanted to forget about me, you wanted nothing to do with me at all! You, the bright and shining Winner heir didn't want a lowly little street urchin like me tarnishing your perfect world. A world where you got the man you want, where you got the company you wanted, the spot light that you wanted, everything you could ever pine for, and I didn't exist. You want me gone even now!" Duo yelled, tears streaming down his own face.

Quatra opened his mouth to protest but Duo was already on his feet and gone. Heavy footfalls thundered up the stairs and the bedroom door snapped sharply closed, rattling the picture frames on the walls, one even falling from the wall and shattering to the ground. Shaking, his chest hammering with his own emotions as well as the overwhelming sensation of Duo's, Quatra could just kneel where he was. His heart aching too badly to move or even breath.

"Little one? What happened? Quatra?"

The blond looked up, tears threatening to spill over as he fought them back. Trowa knelt down beside the tiny heir and strong arms wrapped around his slender frame, pulling him close and causing the blond to break down in his arms. Quatra sobbed hard as all of his pain and Duo's pain, as all of the suffering and distrust he'd been holding in for so long, finally came out in a shuddering, breath-hitching sob.

"Shh. It's okay, little one."

"No, it's not! You know it's not okay just as much as I do! I blocked him, like he said! He was right! I might as well have been the one to keep him there! I could've helped him sooner, and I didn't! I was too selfish to help him when he needed me!" Quatra sobbed into the hard chest his face was pressed into.

"You didn't know." Trowa crooned softly into the feathered blond hair.

"That's the point, Trowa! I could've helped him and I didn't because I chose to remain ignorant! Despite my promise to keep you guys close with me, I blocked him the instant he disappeared because I was too selfish to let myself feel him! I was afraid to feel him happy! Why should I be so afraid of that? He deserved to be happy and I selfishly blocked him because I thought he would've been happy without me!"

His arms tightened around the small blond, holding him closer to his chest as he cried. It seemed like hours before Quatra was able to settle down long enough for Trowa to let him go. The Winner heir rubbed at his face, making him look like a small child as he did so, trying to get the redness that came with crying to ease away, but it only succeeded in making it redder. Trowa left him to calm himself as he picked up the rest of the mess Duo had made by the stove.

"What's going on?"

Trowa turned his head to Wufei, the man still half buried in a towel from his morning regiment outside. His body clothed in a white tank top and an equally white pair of sweats that were clinging to his body with sweat. Quatra sniffled a little, still trying to recompose himself to no avail.

"Just... getting a little of Duo's temper." Trowa explained, keeping his voice lower than even his normal uninterested tone.

"He's still in a bad mood?" Wufei asked, sounding exasperated as he scrubbed his face of a patch of sweat.

"At the rate we're going, he's always going to be in a bad mood. It's one extreme to another with him. He's either extremely depressed, or he's extremely angry. There is no in between anymore with him." Quatra explained, his voice thick from crying, even hitching in a few places.

"Never seems happy either." Wufei grumbled, tossing his towel over his shoulders.

"That's because he isn't. Would you be happy in such a situation?" Trowa asked, looking at the Chinese man, as if daring him to say anything against his statement.

Wufei merely shrugged, his body twisting towards the stairs, and starting up them, intending for a shower. Quatra took two more calming breaths, raking his fingers through his hair once before he was able to feel as composed as he did before this whole affair. Lifting his head to level the best he could with Trowa, he let himself take the other in for a couple seconds. If he was honest with himself, he would say this was the first time he was seeing Trowa, truly seeing him, since they brought Duo home almost a month ago.

"Do you think I should cancel the therapy appoint-"

"Don't cancel anything of his without his consent. He's not an invalid."

Quatra tensed almost visibly at the sudden monotone growl from Heero as the messy haired man stalked past him, wearing the long forgotten tank top, and spandex shorts. Something Quatra hadn't seen on him since the end of the Second Eve War.

"But, Heero, he's all emotional right now. There's no way he's going to be able to get anything done in the state that he's in."

Dark blue locked with turquoise in a sudden battle of wills. Heero's glaring features not moving even for a second as he stared Quatra down until the blond backed down.

"This is part of the problem he has with us. Did you ask him if you could have his therapists come over? Did you ask him if you should cancel his appointments?"

"Every time we talk to him, we just get his anger and mistrust. There is no talking to him." Trowa muttered, leaning into the refrigerator with his right shoulder, his legs crossing at the ankles, and armed folding neatly over his chest.

"Hn. Then you aren't trying hard enough." he grunted, moving to the tea cabinet and pushing through some of the many selections that Quatra kept for them all.

"Have you been able to talk to him?" Quatra asked, his voice challenging and demanding.

Heero glared at him again, his eyes narrowing almost dangerously then turned back to the cabinet, "No."

"Then why are you talking to us like we're idiots because we haven't talked to him when you haven't talked to him either?" Quatra demanded.

"I haven't talked to him because I choose not to, not because I can't." Heero said, his tone dismissive and uninterested.

"Well, here's the pot calling the fucking kettle black. Mr. Perfect chooses not to talk to our suffering friend but thinks he knows exactly how to talk to him." Quatra growled, the color of his eyes darkening.

"You don't listen to him." Heero shot back, glaring again.

"The fuck I-"

"Shut the fuck up and listen!" Heero growled, shocking the agitated blond into silence, "You're so caught up with all of your own thoughts, and words that you aren't listening. Listen!"

Confused, Quatra let his mouth close and he listened to the silence for a bit. About to demand what Heero was talking about, he senses picked up a faint thudding noise. It wasn't the thudding noise of something falling, or someone walking. It was a thudding he'd heard before, but he couldn't place where. He closed his eyes, listening to the thudding as it pounded rhythmically from somewhere. The feeling of Déjà Vu swept over the blond as he tried to remember where he'd heard this before. Images of a safe house in the country entered his mind. He remembered being curled up on the couch with a book, a title he couldn't remember, and the rhythmic thudding over his head, lyrics wafting down to his ears of a old metal band long since passed with the creation of the colonies.

Realization of what the noise was hit Quatra like a ton of bricks. His brow furrowed and he lowered his head to Heero, who was quiet as he was, a look of concentration on his face.

"Disturbed. Indestructible Album. The Night." Heero rattled off before he opened his eyes, showing a sort of softness in them that wasn't there before, "He's upset, angry at something but he doesn't know what to do about it. He feels like he's lost in darkness and can't find his light anywhere, if he even still has a light."

Quatra's gaze flicked to Trowa, who looked confused where he was. Green eyes lifted to the ceiling, listening to the thudding himself, leaving Quatra to handle this alone.

"How did you-"

"While at the institute, Duo was extremely hard to read. His mood. His thoughts. What age he was for that day, or what he would think of me. Every day, I would find him in one corner, either talking to himself, or coloring if he was able to convince someone to give him paper and a crayon. Then, one day, I went to visit him and I could hear him singing from the hallway outside of the ward. The nurses left the PDA on and turned the radio on to listen to in the Nurse's Station. Duo, subconsciously, recognized the song playing and was singing along. Since that day, I would find him at the window, singing a song. Depending on what song he was singing, it would tell me what mood he was in, what was going on with him, and who he thought he was today. It's no different now that he's got the computer and is looking up the actual songs."

"You gave him your laptop?" Trowa asked, floored as Heero nodded.

"I gave him my new one. I'm using my old one now."

"You have him your laptop?" Trowa repeated, sounding utterly flabbergasted by even the thought.

"How do you know this song, and what it means to Duo?" Quatra asked, ignoring Trowa.

"I looked them up, listened to them being sung by the original singers, and looked up the lyrics. The lyrics say a lot when someone is having trouble finding the words themselves. Duo knew that before any of us did and utilized it long before this. He used to do it during the Wars, too, but none of us noticed before. This isn't a new practice for him, you just have to know what these songs mean to him."

"What songs are they?" Quatra suddenly demanded, a new fire in his eyes at the thought that maybe he could get closer to Duo through his music.

Heero shrugged, "They're all old songs. Before Colony songs. Mostly of Disturbed, Korn, Aerosmith, Nickleback and bands like that. He has one from Breaking Benjamin that he loves, another by Simon and Garfunkel he uses when he's on the verge of a break down. There's a lot of them, and they aren't just individual songs. Sometimes, he just picks a song randomly from an album that fits his mood. It's not the case here, but sometimes he does."

"You have had longer to look into this than we have. You have to help us with him and with what to do."

"I don't have to do anything. You are being too self-centered to figure it out yourself. Listen to the lyrics at his door, type them into any search engine and look up the songs for yourself. I'm not helping you." Heero grunted as he turned for the front door.

"Why not?" Quatra demanded, his anger rising yet again.

"Because I refuse to lose him again. I had to work to get to know him, and so do you."

"This is not a fucking game, Heero. We need this information if we're going to be able to deal with-"

"Deal with what? With him? There is nothing to deal with, Quatra. He's scared and hurt, not violent. You have to get closer to him in your own way. If you get closer to him my way, then it would appear fake to him and he won't trust you no matter what you did. He's not stupid.

With that final word, Heero walked out the front door and into the yard to do his morning run. Sighing in defeat, Quatra pressed his fingers through his hair. Lifting his head again, he heard the song change in another one, the base pounding against the walls of the room and traveling down into the kitchen where it became a dull thudding noise to all of them. He had to get through to Duo his own way. Some how.

"He gave him his laptop..." Trowa mused behind him, the amazement still in his voice.

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Duo's door creaked open slowly, the music stopped a few minutes ago, and silence greeting the house once more. Glancing around, he deemed himself completely alone at last and started down the stairs to get to the kitchen.

"Living just isn't hard enough. Burn me alive inside..." Duo sang softly to himself as he descended the stairs and walked into the kitchen, "Living my life is not hard enough. They take everything from you... Living just isn't hard enough. Burn me alive inside... Living my life is not hard enough... Take everything away..."

Glancing around the kitchen, he made sure there was no one with him as he hummed the guitar solo to himself. It calmed him to sing like this. He couldn't relax around the others, or even alone in his room. If he didn't have music playing or was humming to himself, he was a nervous wreck. It took him days of no sleeping to realize that was what he needed. Secretly, he owed a lot to Heero for giving him his laptop when he did. He had been close to letting the darkness claim him when Heero knocked on his door, saying he had something for him and that he was leaving it at the door for him to take. He had been really surprised to see Heero's prized laptop at his door, and thought it was a trick at first, but when Heero didn't return to reclaim it, he snatched it up before he could have second thoughts.

That laptop saved his life in more ways than one. It helped him sleep, and it kept him somewhat sane as he found these little sites where he could just escape his life for a little bit. These little RPGs that he had once played during the war for shits and giggles. Now he was playing them to keep his sanity. He didn't know what he would do without them.

Pushing aside items that he didn't want to eat, he settled on making himself a small sandwich to eat. He worked quickly building his little sandwich before he put everything back and leaned against the counter, allowing himself to relax as he ate his new little creation. He'd almost forgotten about the others in the house, and he would've been completely and utterly relaxed for the first time in months if it wasn't for the doorbell going off. Quatra tore downstairs like a bull in a China shop to throw the door open to the visitor on the other side.

"Duo! Your therapist is here!" Quatra called, obviously thinking that Duo was still upstairs or something.

Duo ignored him in favor of finishing his sandwich, but that didn't last long as Quatra spotted him in his trek to head back upstairs.

"Oh, there you are, Duo." he said, his voice covered in fake sweetness, it made Duo want to gag but he didn't.

Instead, he focused on his last two bites then marched past the blond heir into the living room where his therapist was waiting for him to start their session.

His physical therapist was more for his heart than anything else, but with past problems came with present situations that needed tending to. No matter what Duo did, he couldn't get himself checked off by this man in order to say that he didn't have to see him anymore. He would love nothing more than to be able to keep himself from being poked and prodded at by anyone.

"Good afternoon, Duo." the man greeted, intending it to be a good-natured gesture, but Duo wasn't biting at the bit.

He didn't trust this man anymore than he did the other pilots. He wasn't the kind of man that looked like he was up to something. To Duo, he seemed sort of normal with his short black hair, hazel eyes, tan skin all pressed into normal wear clothes that he always wore for the therapy sessions, even when he was at his office. One would say he was kindly looking man, but it didn't make Duo let his guard for him anymore than he did with the other pilots.

"I see we're in a foul mood today." the man chuckled as he went into his bag, retrieving what he would need first.

Despite the lack of a response from Duo, his therapist, John, continued to talk. Explaining what they were going to be doing as he handed Duo a tab that he was suppose to hold over one eye while using the other to read the chart that was being held before him. Duo did as he was told, pressing it to his left eye and using his right eye to look at the chart. The numbers were fuzzy and blurred in some spots, the ones on the outside were completely illegible to him and he wasn't suppose to move his eye from one fixed spot while he did this.

"Okay, Duo. What's the middle letter of the second line?"

Duo swallowed as he stared at his spot, a little dog drawn in the center of it. He could barely make out the letters in the second row, let alone one specific letter. It was all meshing together into one giant blob monster to him.

"... P?" he asked, noticing how it seemed to come down a little from the top, hoping he was right.

"And the last letter of the middle row?" he asked.

Duo silently swore to himself. Only two letters today, which means his first letter was wrong, "D." he rattled off, his point of focus close enough to see the D for what it was.

"Okay, left eye." the Therapist said, switching the chart for the other eye.

Duo hated to admit it but that was actually his good eye. His left, alone, couldn't make out certain shapes, or letters, on its own and needed assistance from his right. Pressing the tab to his right eye, he bit his lip as he was put into a world of just colored blurs and lights.

"Can you see this chart?" John asked, holding the chart on the edge of his knee.

"Barely." Duo grumbled, fingertips digging into the cloth of his pants.

"Can you see any letters on it?"

"I can somewhat make out black blobs against the white. It just looks like the paper has holes in it."

"Well, at least you can see them this time. " he chuckled good-naturedly, setting the chart aside.

Duo wasn't amused in the least bit as he handed back the tab. He tensed when his therapist slid forward, closer to him.

"Let's see your right hand." He said, holding out his own hand to take Duo's.

Duo hesitated for a few minutes, using the needed hand to brush his ear length hair behind his ear. He hated having short hair. He wanted his long hair back, he wanted his braid back. This short hair got in the way something fierce. It was distracting, and no matter what he did, it always seemed greasy and dirty. Pushing the thoughts of his hair aside before he became depressed again, he shifted himself closer to John and gave him the needed hand.

He watched tensely as John worked his fingertips gently over scars that dotted along the back of his hand and wrist from the surgical repairs on his bones. About five little metal rods in each hand replaced some major bones in his hand. Phalanges, he thought that the bones that needed replaced were called, but he could never remember little things like that. Names of bones were never his specialty, the only one he could ever remember was the Femur in the thigh, and that was only because he remembered Heero either breaking or fracturing it during his little swan dive attempt from the hospital when Duo first rescued him. He only remembered the bone's name because it sounded funny when he heard someone squawking about it.

A sharp hiss came from him as he pulled his hand away from the offending man. He'd pressed a little too hard on the joint of his middle finger. His joints were the one thing they couldn't surgically repair, and would have to heal on their own. It was a long and painful process, made even longer since he had a horrible habit of popping his knuckles before doing shit with his hands. He learned real fast not to do that.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to press on that. I slipped." John offered, holding his hands up in surrender then fished the clipboard out of his large, never ending bag and scribbled something down, "You seem tired."

"I am." Duo said quickly, flexing his hand to get the joint to circulate blood again to ease the pain, also to distract himself from the fact that he could feel that feeling in the back of his head again.

"Too tired for your exercises?" John asked, glancing at the longer haired man.

Silently, Duo did a mental check of his body. How tight his muscles were, how heavy his bones felt. Especially that little feeling he was getting, the kind that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on ends.

"Yes."

John sighed as he scribbled yet again, then leaned closer to him, making Duo scoot away.

"Look, Duo, I don't have the right machine here, but I can tell by your complexion, the muscles around your heart are weakening because you haven't been doing your daily exercises. If you keep on like this, your heart's either going to fail, or else your body's going to start to reject it. You have been taking your anti-rejection pills, yes?"

"Everyday."

"Duo, I'm not going to tell you this is something you're going to do, because that will just push you into not doing them at all. These are things you really have to do. Those pills only do so much for your heart, and the rest is up to you. You have to work those muscles in order for your body to recognize it for what it is and keeps its hold on it. You have to do exercises."

"Right. Do my exercises. Can we end here today?" Duo asked, allowing his tiredness to show in his voice.

Seeing he wasn't going to win, John nodded and began to pack up. Once he left the house, Duo ascended the stairs to his room and closed the door behind him. Around the corner of the kitchen, Heero stepped into the main hallway and lifted his gaze up to the stairs where he could barely make out Duo's door at the top.

The therapist's words drifting into his head, plaguing him with the images of Duo letting his body start to reject the heart he was given. Maybe Duo had finally given up and this was his way of slowly committing suicide. His ears picked up the sound of music playing again from the confines of the room, the base ringing off the walls. His mission demanded he find some way to help Duo through all of this. First, he needed to try and find a way to get Duo to trust him enough to talk to him and be around him.

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A firm knock on the door made Duo shift in his sleep. Blearily, his eyes were assaulted by the darkness in the room, and the glaring light from the screen saver of the laptop; pipes snaking their way across the screen only to disperse and make a whole new path of pipes. Another knocked forced him out of the safe recluse of his blankets and to the door, opening it slightly to see Heero standing on the other side, an unreadable look on his face.

"What?" Duo grumbled tiredly, rubbing his good eye to try and clear the fog that was caused by sleep.

"I wanted to make something." Heero said, shifting as if uncomfortable in front of him.

"Congratulations... What do you want; a prize?" Duo grumbled sourly, letting his look slip into a glare.

"I was hoping you would help me with it. You were always good at cooking."

"Says the guy who never let me cook in the first place. You always claimed I would blow up the house."

Heero winced before he lowered his gaze, swallowing thickly, "Well, that was then. This is now, and I want you to help me cook these."

"Why should I?"

"They're chocolate chip pancakes?" Heero offered, looking up when Duo didn't respond right away.

Duo was looking at him skeptically before he tilted his head away from Heero, looking at him with just his right eye, "What are you playing at?"

"Playing?" Heero asked, genuinely confused.

"Playing at; what's your game? What are you trying to accomplish here? What's your motive?" Duo explained, rolling his eyes.

Heero shook his head; arms folding over his chest much like a petulant child, "I'm not 'playing at' anything. I just want to make these pancakes, I remembered they were your favorite and I wanted to see if you wanted to help me make them. Forget it, I'll asked Quatra." Heero grumbled as he turned towards the stairs.

"W-wait."

Heero stopped in mid step, foot hovering over the top stair as he looked back at the unsure looking man at the door.

"No funny shit, okay? Just making pancakes?"

Heero nodded, "Just making pancakes." he agreed.

"All right. Let me get dressed and I'll be down in a few minutes."

Heero smiled to himself as he watched Duo slip back into his room and disappear. So far, his plan was coming together perfectly.

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"That doesn't go there."

"Yes it does, it says so right here."

"Don't touch the screen!"

"We can clean it."

"Don't... touch... the... screen..."

"Fine. It says there, three eggs and a half cup of butter milk."

"That's for half the serving size we're doing. Everything's doubled, damn it."

"... Oh."

"Make sure the blender's on low when you turn it on."

"How do I do th-"

"Ah! Turn it off! Turn it off!"

"How the fuck did I turn it on?"

"Pull the plug! Kill the power! Shit! It's fucking everywhere!"

In the living room, Trowa and Quatra glanced at each other before moving to the kitchen to see what the commotion was about. The kitchen was covered in pancake batter. The walls had it sliding from the top, the ceiling had globs dripping from it, and the cabinets had it sticking to them and there was the two men that had been standing mere inches from the point of origin that were now covered in batter.

"Damn it. There's egg in my hair." Heero grumbled, pushing his now batter heavy hair from his face.

"Fuck your hair, there's batter on the laptop!" A batter covered Duo whined, grabbing paper towels to try and clean the machine off.

Trowa snorted at the switch in situation. He remembered a time where it would've been Duo bitching about his hair, and Heero the laptop. Heero turned towards the snort, his foot landing on a patch of batter and he slid on it. Starting to fall, his hand flew out to break it only to be caught by Duo's hand and pulled back up right before either of them had time to even think about what they were doing. Blinking, Duo released his hand quickly and snatched up his laptop as if he was afraid it would disappear and he didn't have a hold of it. Without a word, Duo ran from the kitchen and up to his room.

"What? You're not leaving me to clean all this by myself!" Heero called after him.

"You made the mess!" Duo called, the bedroom door snapping closed behind him.

Cursing, Heero looked down at the mess. He was so close to getting Duo to relax, and he had to go and blow it.

"What was that all about?" Trowa asked, moving to the cabinet and retrieving wash cloths.

"I was trying to get Duo to relax with me by having him help make pancakes, his favorites, but I royally messed the whole thing up." Heero grumbled, taking an offered towel from Trowa.

Trowa grunted as he moved about, cleaning batter off the ceiling since he was the tallest, Quatra tackled what he could on the walls and Heero did the cabinet and counters.

"Maybe we shouldn't try and get him to relax like this. Maybe we just need to find something he can latch onto then he's scared and can't make it to his room. Like a security blanket." Quatra said, wiping his brow with his wrist.

"You want us to give Duo a blanket?" Heero asked, frowning at the blond.

"Not a blanket. Just find something that he can take with him so he can relax around us."

"It's not going to work. He already has the laptop, so if he's still not comfortable around us with it then that means that he's not going to be comfortable with anything else." Heero said, glaring at a particularly rough patch of batter.

Giving up, the three fell silent as they worked until the kitchen was completely cleaned up. Heero trying his hand at the pancakes again, making some and putting them in the refrigerator in case Duo came down and wanted some for later. Unwilling to let his mission be labeled a failure, Heero went upstairs and locked himself in his room to try and come up with a whole new plan of action.

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