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Surrender	By : YojiKato Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 840 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing nor any of its characters. I only own the original characters. And nobody's paying me to write this.

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Hope can be a frightening and dangerous thing. The first week back on chemo, Heero did great. He managed to put on weight. He worked some from his laptop at home, reviewing reports for Une. He laughed and smiled, and actually dragged me out of the house Saturday night to attend the fair.
Middle of the second week, the chemo's side effects returned, which meant Heero became more tired and less active. I had to keep reminding myself that it was the medication and not the cancer. The new drugs did counteract the chemo, though. He wasn't as tired as before.
So, the days moved on and, with Heero not seeming quite as sick as he had been, most of his attention shifted to Trowa. He still loved him and I know he always will. And a small part of me, I have to admit, resents Trowa a little for that.
I'm not needy by any stretch of the word, but the sudden distance bothered me. I wanted to believe that it was nothing. That Heero had only pulled away because he was busy going through files. That he was tired or the medications were making his mind fuzzy.
But I always came back to the same reason as to why he would be so standoffish. Trowa.
******
Quatre leaned against the wall outside of their bedroom, listening while Heero talked on the phone as he was getting chemo. It had become a daily routine. For the hour or so that he had to sit still for the drugs, he called Trowa. Quatre tried to squash the jealousy making its way through his chest. They used to spend that time talking or just sitting together, but Heero didn't seem interested in spending time with the blond lately.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He felt a little guilty for listening in on the conversation, but he couldn't help himself. It had become a routine that he was ashamed of, but it was the most Heero ever talked anymore.
“I think you should go back,” Heero was saying. “Because you're a damn good Preventer. They need you... So? You have a lot to offer outside of field work.” Quatre chewed his lip at the soft sigh that left Heero's lips as Trowa responded.
“You're grounded, set in facts. Your emotions never get in the way... no, that had nothing to do with emotions. You trusted Harding because of years of evidence that he was trustworthy. That's not the same thing as letting your emotions get in the way of your reason.”
Heero was silent for a long moment and Quatre cut his eyes to Nancy who was dusting a table down the hall. She gave him a small, sad smile before moving down the stairs.
“You're too important to a lot of people and you're self-destructing... Yes, you are. It may not be as obvious as an alcoholic or addict, but I can see the signs. There are people counting on you, Trowa.” His voice tightened slightly. “Ronnie needs you.”
Quatre closed his eyes. That sounded far too close to regret. He pushed from the wall and went downstairs. He moved sluggishly into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of brandy from the cabinet, filling a glass and drinking it down quickly.
“Sir, I don't think-”
“Shut up, Marty, and make dinner.”
The cook's eyes widened. In all his years of serving Quatre, the blond had never spoken to any of them in such a manner. In fact, he didn't think he'd heard of Quatre speaking to anyone like that. He frowned as his boss poured another glass and downed it.
“If I may, what's wrong?”
He closed his eyes, leaning his hands on the counter. “It's nothing.”
“Since when did 'nothing' make you drink at two in the afternoon?”
He ground his teeth and poured another, throwing it back before grabbing the bottle and turning to leave the room. “Just drop it.”
His brows drew together. “I'm worried about you, Quatre.”
“I'll be fine,” he said quietly. “I'm just...” He sighed and sat at the table, pouring another glass. “I'm losing him, Marty. And this time, it's not to illness.”
The cook sat across from him. “What are you talking about? He loves you.”
“Maybe.” He stared down into the amber liquid. “But he loves someone else more... and he loved him first.” He threw the drink back.
“I don't understand.”
“Trowa.”
Marty shook his head. “Trowa isn't gay and he's happily married with a child on the way.”
“And Heero spends hours a day talking to him. I live with him and I can't get him to say more than two sentences to me a day. What am I supposed to think?”
“Have you talked to Heero about this?”
He barked a mirthless laugh. “And say what? 'Heero, are you wishing you were with Trowa and not me?'... Somehow I think that would make matters worse.”
Marty grabbed the bottle and pulled it back. “This won't help.”
Quatre's eyes narrowed. “I'm not looking for help.”
Marty shook his head. “Then what are you looking for?”
He snatched the bottle back. “At the moment? An escape from reality.”
Marty shook his head. “And what good will that do?”
Quatre poured another shot. “It will help me forget for a moment that I'm not the one he really wants to be with.” He emptied it quickly.
“Yes you are.”
He took the bottle and glass and retreated upstairs to a guest room, locking the door and sprawling on the bed. He was being childish, he knew, but he was afraid to confront Heero about it.
******
“What do you mean?... No, everything's all right.” Heero sighed. “It isn't like that. I just... Are you sure you want to know?... All right, we haven't had sex in almost two months thanks to the chemo. He says he doesn't care, but I feel bad about it. He's made all these sacrifices for me.” Another sigh. “Hell, he's put his life on hold for me and I don't have anything to offer.”
Heero had the phone in his left hand while his right covered his eyes. “He's spent hours cleaning up after I've been sick, taking care of me when I couldn't get out of bed, and who knows what all else. And all I can give him is an uncertain future.”
He was silent as Trowa spoke. “I know... I know, and I love him, too. That's why I hate what I'm doing to him.”
He looked up as Mike came back into the room. “I need to go, Trowa. Talk to you later.”
He hung up the phone as Mike unhooked the chemo line. “Is he going back to Preventers?”
Heero shrugged. “He said he'd think about it, but I'm pretty sure he is.” He stretched his arms in front of himself.
Mike stared down at Heero, amazed by how well he was doing. The new drugs were doing wonders for his energy and overall health. He was still a little tired and became weak at times, but compared to his previous reaction, it was a definite improvement.
“You look a little stir crazy.”
He nodded. “I am a bit, but we're going out with Wufei and Duo in a little while so that'll change.”
He searched for his lover in his office, the den, and the living room before leaning into the kitchen. “Marty, have you seen Quatre?”
The cook nodded. “Yes and he's very upset.”
“Why?”
“I think you better ask him that.”
“Where is he?”
“He went upstairs.”
Heero moved back up the steps, wondering what had happened between breakfast and now. Quatre had seemed all right earlier. He frowned as he encountered the locked guest room and knocked once. “Quatre?”
“What?”
“Let me in.”
“Not right now, Heero.”
He frowned at the slur in the blond's voice. “Are you drunk?” No answer. He leaned his forehead to the door, fear rising in his chest. What had he done wrong? “Quatre, let me in.”
It was a full minute before the door opened and he watched the blond move back to collapse on the bed. He pushed in and sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at the bottle of brandy on the floor. He raked his fingers through the blond's hair.
“Talk to me.”
He closed his eyes. “I don't wanna be second to 'im.”
Heero's jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”
“Trowa.”
He shook his head. “That was a long time ago and Trowa's not gay, remember?”
He rolled to his back and looked up to Heero. “That doesn't mean you don't love him.”
“I do, but it's the same way I love Wufei or Duo. I don't want to be with him. I want to be with you.”
“Then why are you shutting me out? Lately you'll talk to him for hours on end and I can barely drag two words out of you.”
“That's... Quatre...” He released a breath and rubbed his forehead. “Because I didn't want to vent to you.”
“I'm your lover, Heero. You're supposed to vent to me, it's in the job description.” He put a hand to Heero's cheek. “Don't shut me out.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to Quatre's softly before stretching out beside him and curling to his side. “Don't doubt me, Quatre. I'm not going anywhere if I can help it.”
A soft knock came to the door. “Yes?” Heero called out.
“Sorry to bother you, but Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Chang are here.”
“Oh hell.” Quatre sat up, swaying slightly as the alcohol buzzed through him. “I forgot they were coming over.”
Heero laughed softly at the embarrassed expression on the blond's face. “Go and take a shower.” He pushed from the bed and dropped a kiss to the top of Quatre's head before helping him to his feet.
Quatre stumbled and held onto Heero for a minute. He stepped back and grinned sheepishly at his lover. “Sorry.”
He smirked as he watched the blond sway slightly as he disappeared into their bedroom. He went down into their living room.
“I don't think we'll be going out tonight.”
Duo frowned. “Why not? You look like you're feeling all right.”
He sat. “Yeah. That's not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
He shook his head. “We'll wait for Quatre.”
“Where is he?”
“Shower.”
“In the middle of the day?” Duo smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Were you two going at it?”
Wufei rolled his eyes and smacked Duo's shoulder. “Stay out of other people's sex lives.”
Heero grimaced and leaned his head back in the chair, an action Duo didn't miss. “What's wrong?”
“Don't worry about it. I don't want to have that particular conversation again.”
He raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, they heard a high pitched yelp followed by a series of thumps and grunts. All their eyes widened and they raced to the stairs where Quatre was lying, apparently having slid down.
“Ow... I think I broke my butt.”
Duo pressed his lips together but a snorted laugh broke through. The finger Quatre pointed at him waved through the air. “You... shut up.”
Wufei started. “Are you drunk?”
Heero sighed and knelt by the blond. “Do you really think you broke your tail bone?”
“No.” He sat up with a grimace and rubbed the offended area. “That hurt.”
“What happened?”
“Missed a step.” He accepted Heero's help up and limped to the living room, falling on his stomach on the sofa.
Duo folded his arms over his chest. “Now, why are you drunk so early in the day?”
“Don't wanna talk about it. You should get drunk, too, an' then we can have a party.”
He squatted down. “Is this an 'I'm so happy I wanna party' drunk, or an 'I'm having a shitty day' drunk?”
“Started as the first, but now it's the second,” Heero said as he lifted Quatre's head and sat down, letting him use his lap as a pillow.
Duo nodded. “All right then.” He headed for the kitchen. “You drinking, Fei?”
“No thank you.” He sat on the love seat. “I'm still recuperating from last weekend.”
“What was last weekend?”
“We went to the club.”
“Ah.” He raked his hands through Quatre's hair and the blond purred softly. He laughed. “You're like a kitten.”
“Hm.” He sat up suddenly, grimacing from the pain in his behind and swaying slightly from the alcohol in his system. “I left the brandy upstairs!”
******
Trowa sat in the rocking chair in the nursery, staring at the crib. Ronnie would be home soon from work and all he'd done all day was sit in the nursery and talk to Heero. He didn't have the energy to do much of anything. It was crazy, but he wondered if he wasn't getting depressed. He hadn't felt so out of sorts since he had amnesia during the war.
He stood and crossed to the crib. In less than four months there'd be a child in there, one that was completely dependent on him and Ronnie. He raised his left hand and flexed the fingers he could, grimacing at the slight pain the action produced. How was he supposed to take care of a child when he couldn't even use one of his hands?
He sat by the crib, leaning his head back against the bars. He pulled his knees to his chest and folded his arms over them before dropping his forehead to them.
“Have you been in here all day?”
His shoulders tensed but he didn't say anything.
Ronnie sighed and knelt beside her husband. “Trowa, you've got to stop doing this to yourself.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Going back to work would be a good start.”
He clenched his teeth. “And do what? Sit at a desk all day?”
“It was Heero's work at a desk that exposed the arms deals as being bigger than they were.”
Trowa looked up to her. “Ronnie-”
“Data collection is important. Without it, missions don't happen. It's imperative to make assignments successful.”
He dropped his eyes to the floor. She was right. Without proper and full information, missions became dangerous. Wrong information got agents killed. He'd always preferred field work, but it wasn't an option to him anymore. He looked around the nursery, eyes falling on Ronnie's growing stomach. He slowly put his hand on the round bulge that held their baby protectively inside.
Their baby. A child was a blessing, wasn't it? He should be excited about it, not moping over a few fingers. He could still work and provide for his family.
He raised his eyes to Ronnie's and gave her a soft smile. “You're right. I'll talk to Une tomorrow.”
TBC....
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Surrender