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A Stagnation of Love (rewrite)	By : shinigamiinochi Category: Gundam Wing/AC > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2207 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing AC or the characters from it. I am making no money from this story

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A Stagnation of Love

Chapter 7

Part 3

Friday morning, I wasn't sure which I felt more: terror or excitement. I woke up early so I could pack the things that I would need for my weekend, refilled Pepper's bowls and apologized to her for leaving her alone for so long. She just gave me her usual wide eyed stare and ate energetically. I took my duffle to school instead of my book bag, not wanting to waste time going home after class to get it. The whole day, I was a nervous wreck, only barely able to focus on my classes. I kept thinking about this stupid 'sleepover' and worrying about needless things.

Would Heero's parents like me after being around me for so long, or would they think that their son had taken up with a juvenile delinquent? Would I say or do something stupid and alienate the only friend that I have? Or worse? Would I be able to handle being in close quarters with the boy that I loved or would I let it slip how I really felt about him? True, he knew that I was gay, but that was ok because he was, too. And he knew that I liked him, or at least found him attractive and he seemed to be handling that fine as well.

But he didn't know that this wasn't just my thinking that he was handsome. He didn't know that his friend was head over heels in love with him and I would rather that he didn't find out about that. Was this what Quatre had felt like that night that he had asked me to oversee his dinner with Trowa, this fear that he couldn't keep his emotions in check? I hadn't understood it back then. I had just thought that it was a matter of simply not saying those words, 'I love you.' I hadn't know what it felt like to be holding all these feelings inside, like they might come bursting out at any moment, until I had done something stupid and fallen in love myself.

Heero and I had a couple of close calls that day at school, but nothing like the last two days. We found that, if we were together, putting up a unified front, our classmates were more leery to fuck with us. Relena and Zechs not so much, but there was nothing we could do about them anyway. The worst was when Dorothy blindsided Heero and managed to cut his right cheek with her long nails, but besides being bloody, it was better than the rest of his bruises. Everything else was just heated, verbal abuse. He must have taken my advice to ice his black eye because, like mine, the swelling had gone down enough for him to open it.

It was even colder outside when school let out than it had been the previous day. I wouldn't have been surprised if we got a little bit of snow that weekend and I was sure that all of the ponds were going to ice over enough to go skating. Most of them were already looking a bit frosty and solid. I had taken to wearing a few layers already and I could see my breath in front of my face as I walked. I felt oddly happy seeing Heero's home again. I felt enthralled all over again at the decor and how homey it felt. Kanuck was right there at the door waiting for us and barked and danced around when Heero opened the door.

"Down!" he scolded the dog when it tried to bowl me over in it's attempt to lick my face.

Kanuck obeyed, but his tail was wagging so furiously, and he seemed so incapable of containing his happy energy, that his butt wiggled as he sat.

"Hi, Kanuck," I greeted the dog with a pet.

"In here, boys!" I heard Heero's mother call from the living room.

The malamute mix all too happily followed us as we walked into the living room. Heero's mother was sitting on the large couch that they had, reading some book. When she heard us come in, she immediately had a bright smile on her face, but when she put the book down and looked over at us, that smile faded into one of shock.

"Oh, Duo!" she exclaimed as she got to her feet and started to walk over to us.

It took me a moment to realize the reason for her reaction. Even though it still hurt a bit, I kept forgetting that my face was still heavily bruised and while my eye had finally managed to fully open, I was still sporting a pretty bad black eye.

"Mom," Heero warned.

For the first time, I wondered what had happened to him when he had gone home the previous day with his other set of bruises, just how badly his parents had freaked out. I felt guilty all over again for my role in things, that it was because of me their son had left the safety of his group and was now getting bullied. His mother completely ignored him and lightly touched my chin, moving my head to the side so she could see the worst of the damage. The intensity of her concern sent a chill through me at the same time that her touch made me blush darkly. Why was she so worried? Heero had almost gotten it as badly as me, and I wasn't her kid.

"You didn't tell me it was this bad!" she scolded Heero, finally letting go of me, "I really wish you would tell me who did this to the both of you, Heero!"

"We've already been through this," my friend said defensively, "There's nothing you can do about it."

"This isn't how we raised you," she snapped, "If someone is hurting you or your friend, you come forward about it! Nothing can be done by doing nothing!"

Seeing the righteous indignation in her eyes, and realizing where Heero's moral compass, the same one that had gotten him into this trouble, had come from, I swore to make sure to never mention Heero's previous treatment of me around his parents, even in jest. I couldn't imagine the kind of pain that it might cause them to know that their son had once been a bully.

"Mrs. Yuy," I interrupted, "Heero is right. Actually, I'm the one that told him not to do anything about it, so I'm the one that you should blame. But trust me, the people that did this to us, even if we told on them, nothing would happen to them. It would just make things a lot worse."

"They've done this to you before," she said sadly.

"Yes," I confirmed after hesitating a little, not sure how much was safe to tell her, "Many times."

"All the more reason for you boys to tell your principal about this!" she said sternly, "People like that deserve to be punished."

"I would," I confessed, "if I thought that it would do anything, but it won't. I've been with them since Elementary School, and they've been told on before, but it's never stuck. Even if it did, if we could prove who it was, the worst that would happen to them is expulsion, their families have the financial means to make sure it wouldn't go further than that. I know these kids, if they got thrown out, they would just retaliate even worse. Whether it's at school or not, it's the same. I'm just not brave enough to do the right thing here, and I made Heero promise not to as well. So if you're mad at either of us, be mad at me."

"You're plenty brave," Heero protested, "Being logical and knowing what to do to minimize being hurt doesn't make you a coward."

His mother sighed.

"I still think the two of you are being foolish, but I suppose there's nothing that I can say to convince you, is there?"

"Nope," my friend said.

"Even your father?" she pressed with a smirk.

Heero hesitated and I wondered what that was about.

"...No," he said reluctantly, "He already spent all night trying."

"Well, I suppose if you two want to eat before Duo has to go to work, I should get supper started," Mrs. Yuy said, leading us into the kitchen.

"Thank you very much for letting me stay the weekend, Ma'am," I thanked her, sitting down at the kitchen table with Heero.

"No trouble at all, Duo," she smiled at me and turned to the fridge, pulling out some things that she had obviously made beforehand, "And you really don't need to call me 'ma'am,' you know. We aren't so formal here. I hope you like beef stew, it seemed like good weather for it today."

"I love it," I assured her.

She put the stew to heat on the stove and placed what I assumed were biscuits in the oven to bake.

"What time do you have work, Duo?" she asked me.

"Four," I told her, "And... uh... I won't be back until really late. I hope that's ok, I don't want to wake anyone up..."

"That's fine. We'll keep the door unlocked for you and give you the security alarm code," she told me.

"What sort of job do you have that schedules a high schooler so late?" a voice came from through the doorway of what looked like the laundry room and Heero's father walked out, wiping his hands with a rag.

"Dad, you're home early," Heero said in surprise.

"I wanted to be here when you and Duo came home," he said, tucking the rag into his pocket and going to the kitchen sink to wash his hands, "since your friend had to leave before I barely had the chance to greet him last time. Besides, I wanted another crack at fixing the washing machine."

"I really wish you would just call a repair man," his wife scolded him, "We just moved here and it's under warranty, so there's no reason for you to be fiddling with it."

"It's the weekend," he pointed out to her, "Getting a repairman out here before Monday is going to be impossible. No reason why I can't have a go at it."

"Actually, there is a repair shop that will come out on Saturdays," I told him, "You just have to schedule before five today."

"Oh?" Mr. Yuy raised one eyebrow with interest and walked over to a white board that was hanging from the wall next to the sink that was covered in little notes like a reminder of a doctor's appointment and a grocery list, "Their name?"

"McKowski's Repair and Mend," I told him.

"Thank you," he wrote it down on the board with a blue marker.

"I'll look that number up," Mrs. Yuy said and left the kitchen.

"Now, then, where is it that you work, Duo?" Heero's father returned to his original train of thought.

I chewed on my lip, debating on what I would tell him. I hadn't even told Heero much about my working situation and the last thing I needed was his father causing waves because I was breaking labor laws. But his blue eyed stare was intense as he waited for my answer. He reminded me of my father in that respect, at least in the sober side of my father, how he could give me a look like that I would feel like he could see right through me. Suddenly, the idea of lying to this man felt exhausting to me, not because I was sure that he would be able to tell that it was a lie, but I was just so sick of it. I was sick of the lies, of the excuses that I needed to give people. Even though I had only met him twice, I liked Heero's father. He seemed like a really straightforward person and I didn't think that I could lie too much to him.

"Well, I actually work two jobs," I confessed, glancing over at Mrs. Yuy as she bustled back in with a phone book in hand, "One is this construction business and the other is just working at the south train yard, unloading cargo. That shift starts pretty late at night, unfortunately."

"Two jobs at your age?" Mr. Yuy's brow furrowed in concern, "Do your parents know that you're working that much?"

"It's not a big deal," I tried to dissuade him, "I get all my homework done on time, so it doesn't interfere with my grades. Working was actually my father's idea."

"But you're just a teenager," he protested.

"Dad," Heero hissed at his father, looking just as uncomfortable with his father's interrogating me as I felt.

"It must put a lot of stress on you," Mr. Yuy continued, ignoring Heero, "I can respect your father wanting to teach you responsibility, but two jobs is a bit much."

"It's not that stressful," I responded, and it really wasn't, at least compared to what I was dealing with at home, working that much was actually a nice respite, "And that's not why my father insisted that I get a job," I looked down, unable to meet that stare anymore and fiddled with my jeans, "We've never had a lot of money, especially not lately. My father was without a job for awhile and it was just my mom and I making any kind of income. He found another job eventually, but he makes less than he did before and we fell really behind on our bills. We're still playing catch up. Besides, I like helping my family and falling behind on our bills effects me just as much as it does them. I don't mind working a lot of hours if it gives my parents more breathing room and it doesn't hurt my grades."

"I'm sorry, Duo," Mrs. Yuy said sadly and shot her husband an icy look that clearly demanded that he drop the subject.

Miraculously, he obeyed her. Heero gave me an apologetic look, but I smiled assuringly at him. I didn't resent his father for asking those kind of questions and my answers had obviously bothered him and his parents more than they did me.

"So, dear," she addressed me as she handed Mr. Yuy the phone book, "Has your family lived in Nausten for long?"

"Both of my parents grew up here," I told her, watching Heero's father take the kitchen phone out of the room.

"Oh, then you would know. Does Nausten have anything special during the winter season? Hope has a lot of winter festival activities and workshops, but I don't see a lot of those types of things here," she asked me.

"Yeah, Hope is more organized than we are and we don't really do a lot here. There's a Christmas fair going on this weekend, but it's mostly just a place for local businesses to advertise and people to sell crafts like handmade ornaments or coffee. All of the school's musical clubs and classes are going to put on a concert next week that's all just Christmas music and there will be a play put on by all the grades, but that's pretty much it. Oh, and the Darlians put on a big Christmas party on the boardwalk on Christmas Eve."

"Yes, we got invited to that," she nodded, "One of our neighbors mentioned that it used to be a lot grander in previous years with the Winners helping the Darlians host it, but they moved away."

I tried to swallow past the sudden icy lump in my throat, but it felt like swallowing a spiked tennis ball.

"Yeah, well, that was a long time ago," I muttered.

It had never really occurred to me while I had been going through my own momentous grief, that the Winners moving away would have an impact on anything or anyone else but me, but they had been as involved as the Darlians in planning town events. There were a lot of things, like the town carnival, that didn't happen anymore, since Mrs. Winner had pretty much spearheaded that event on her own, what with the town's law against outside performers and her organizing people in town that could put on a show like that. Without her, the effort had just... fallen apart.

I felt Heero's knee rest against my own and I looked over at him. He looked sympathetic and I guess it was pretty obvious that I was depressed over something. I had given him Quatre's name, and I had told him that his girlfriend had been responsible for his disappearance from my life, but I hadn't given him any more information than that. Had he asked her about it and had she given him all the gory details or was he clueless as to what I was thinking about?

"Have you ever gone to any of those events?" he asked me, desperately trying to steer the conversation to something more neutral.

"Not since I was a kid," I told him, "My father took me to the festival a couple times, but I haven't been back since."

"What does your family do for Christmas?" Heero's mother asked, moving to the oven when the timer pinged that the rolls were done, "Do you go away or stay here?"

"We don't do much. My family isn't religious and we don't have extended family nearby, so we stay put. My mom's a waitress and until recently, my dad used to be a cop, so the both of them would get roped into working extra hours during the holiday anyway. We don't even decorate that much. It's usually just a home cooked meal on Christmas night and that's it. I guess if I have a tradition at all, it's going to Miller's Pond on Christmas Eve," I said, fighting against getting trapped in some melancholy memory as I remembered that place.

"What's that?" Heero asked.

"You've been living here for two months and you don't know what Miller's Pond is?" I quirked an eyebrow up at him disbelievingly, "It's the biggest pond in town. It's just a couple of miles north of you. Every Christmas week, if it's cold enough, they string lights in all the trees around it and sell food there. There's ice skating, snowman and food competitions. The various church choirs sing carols there and all the food entered is free for people there to have. I like going skating there late at night when most everyone else has gone home and have whatever is left over."

I had gotten Quatre to come along with me one night, when we had been eleven. He had always been leery of going ice skating with me because he had really sucked at it, but he had just sat on the frozen ground and watched me skate, sipping hot cocoa. It had been nice, a definite improvement to just spending the night in my own, empty house and him in his.

"You should teach Heero how to skate when it gets cold enough, Duo," his mother urged as she took the biscuits out of the oven and checked the stew to see if it was hot enough to eat yet.

"You don't know how to skate?" I asked Heero, perplexed.

"I know how to roller skate," he grumbled, "But we didn't have any local ice rinks where we lived and I don't like hockey, so I never cared about learning."

"I can teach you," I offered, "It's really easy."

He balked for a moment, as if the thought of ice skating was daunting or unwanted to him, but some mysterious thought came to him and he smiled.

"I would like that," he said.

"What about you guys? Will you be going away for Christmas?" I asked.

"We'll be visiting Heero's grandparents nearby," she informed me, "You're welcome to join us, if your parents don't mind you spending Christmas away from them."

"T-that's," I sputtered, shocked by her invitation, "that's nice of you, but I would just be a stranger. Plus, I have work Christmas Eve and I need to start dinner before my parents get home on Christmas, but thank you."

"I see," she said, almost mournfully as she handed us bowls of stew and placed a basket full of the biscuits on the table along with two glasses of milk, "but you wouldn't be a stranger."

Before I could protest that, Mr. Yuy walked back into the room and hung the phone back up on it's cradle.

"They were all booked up for today," he told his wife, "but they can come out on Monday. I'll look at it again after dinner and see if I can least find where the problem is."

She sighed and handed him a bowl of stew on his way to the table.

"That darned thing," she grumbled, walking to the table with her own bowl, "Well, I guess it isn't the end of the world, I can put off doing the laundry for a while yet."

"What's wrong with it?" I asked.

"It leaks," Mr. Yuy said, snagging a biscuit from the basket, "no matter which cycle it's on. I've looked at the casing, but there aren't any cracks and I can't seem to find where the leak is coming from. I don't suppose you have any experience fixing washing machines, Duo?"

"No," I admitted a bit shyly, "I'm completely useless when it comes to helping fix things around the house. My dad tried to teach me how to help fix his car and our dryer when it kept turning itself off halfway through it's cycle, but he says I'm worthless for stuff like that and I'm completely unteachable."

"That's not very nice," Mrs. Inori scowled, "Your father needs to learn some patience."

"I'm not very good at fixing things around the house, either," her husband smiled at me, "It's nothing to be ashamed of. That whole macho nonsense, that all men need to be good at fixing mechanical things and heavy lifting is ridiculous. I'm sure you're good at a lot of other things and if your father can't see that, it's his loss."

"Not really," I murmured, pushing a piece of potato around with the spoon that I had been given, "I'm pretty average all around. There's not really something that I'm good at, like Heero is at baseball."

"That's not true," Heero piped in around a mouthful of biscuit, chewing and swallowing quickly, "You're a good runner, you've got the top scores in English out of our entire grade, and you're a good cook."

"W-what," I sputtered, "When have you ever tasted my cooking?"

"In home ec," he said.

"I thought Relena always throws my stuff out," I puzzled.

Heero blushed a little as his parents looked at him in surprise.

"She does, but I try to sneak a bit in under her nose when she isn't looking," he muttered shyly, but then instantly perked up, "and you're really good at it, better than she is. I know you have top grades in that class, too, so don't sell yourself short. Our teacher likes you, because you don't always follow the recipe and try new things."

"Relena throws your food away?" Mrs. Yuy asked, her voice dripping with disapproval.

"We... don't really get along with each other," I admitted diplomatically.

Mr. Yuy snorted.

"I don't think that girl gets along with anything," he muttered.

"Yes, well," Heero's mother shot him a look that I can only call smug, "anyone that can't get along with someone as nice as Duo obviously has a few screws loose. I'm glad you finally broke up with her."

Heero looked so embarrassed by his parents' behavior that I imagined he was looking for a hole to crawl into. While I knew that he regretted ever getting involved with her, their obvious dislike of his ex made me feel much better, and that they liked me made me feel this huge sense of relief.

"Speaking of home ec, have your grades gotten any better," Mr. Yuy asked Heero with that intense stare of his.

"No, Dad," my friend sighed heavily.

"Obviously, changing classes was a mistake, then. Maybe you should consider going back to metal work next semester, now that you aren't seeing that girl anymore," his father gave Heero this knowing look that I couldn't help trying to decipher.

I wondered if Heero had told his parents that he had only switched classes to be with Relena and that was why his father was criticizing him for it. But now that I thought about it... it didn't make a whole lot of sense, did it? It had before, when I had believed that Heero loved Relena, but he had just been pretending, so why would he have wanted to spend more time with her? There was this doubt in me that he had been telling me the truth, but it was fleeting, just a product of my constant insecurities and doubts.

If he hadn't transferred into my home ec class because of her, then why? Maybe she had just pressured him and he had felt that he had to do it in order to maintain the illusion of the loving boyfriend. That made a lot more sense.

"I'm fine where I am," he grumbled.

"Perhaps Duo can tutor you," his mother suggested with a cheekiness that I understood even less than that knowing look of his father's, "You could practice using our kitchen. I certainly wouldn't mind tasting Duo's cooking, and it would be nice to have your friends over here more. Who knows, if you learn to cook, maybe you can give me a day off from it once in awhile."

Heero blushed even darker at his mother's good natured teasing. The Yuys ' interactions with each other were a spectacle to me. I have some understanding on how normal and well adjusted families treat each other and act around each other, but I've never seen it in person. It was weird and alien, but also comforting. It was like a window into everything that I've been missing my entire life, that love and warmth and teasing. I couldn't be a part of it because they weren't my family, but I still liked watching them.

"Honey, you haven't touched your dinner," it took me a moment to realize that Mrs. Yuy was talking to me and not her son.

"R-right," I stammered, ignoring the sudden pain in my chest.

The stew was delicious and I think that I more inhaled it than just ate it.

"This is really good," I complimented Heero's mother after taking a bite out of one of the biscuits, "I can never get them flaky like this."

"Thank you, I'm glad you like it," she smiled brightly at me, "I use buttermilk and salted butter instead of shortening."

That made sense and I made sure to try that next time I made biscuits. I always used shortening because it was cheaper, but butter has a higher fat content, which is what you want to use if you want to make flaky dough. The rest of the dinner was just as pleasant. Mrs. Yuy talked about working as a teacher and asked me some innocuous questions about the town, my hobbies, and my classes. She also kept my bowl filled and I all too happily kept eating it as long as she kept supplying it. I couldn't remember the last time that I had eaten that much. When we were all done eating, Mr. Yuy excused himself to continue looking at the washing machine and Mrs. Yuy started on the dishes.

"I can help with that," I offered.

"Nonsense," she tried to shoo me away from the sink, "You're a guest, I'm not about to put you to work."

"It's the least that I can do after you've let me stay here for three whole days, and for making me dinner. Please?" I begged.

I already felt so strange, being accepted by these people that barely even knew me. Hell, even Heero barely knew me, but I was being allowed to stay there and eat their food. Helping out with a few chores was a small way for things to feel normal for me, like I was giving something back. Mrs. Yuy studied me for a moment and then conceded with a shrug.

"I suppose, if you really insist, I wouldn't mind some help drying the dishes," she said, but I could tell that she was hesitant to even have me do that much.

She showed me where the dish towels were and I went to work drying things while Heero wiped down the table. From where I was standing next to Heero's mother, I could see his father in the laundry room, working on the machine. He was elbow deep in the back of the thing and seemed to have found some part that was suspicious and was attempting to correct it. I turned back to my drying, taking one of the ceramic bowls that we had used from Mrs. Yuy. It was at that point that I heard Mr. Yuy turn on the washer to test it, and the tell tale sign of water gushing out onto the floor.

"Goddamn thing!" he swore at the washing machine, not out of rage like my father would have, but just frustration, and kicked lightly at it.

The sound of his raised voice and the metallic clang of his foot hitting the appliance sent me into a fear filled panic. In that moment, I went somewhere else. I wasn't in the Yuys house anymore, but my own, and the man swearing wasn't Heero's father, but mine. The kick was more vicious and I knew that, within seconds, all that rage was going to be directed at me. It was just a single second that it lasted, but it was enough. I flinched harshly, forgetting where I was and that I was safe, and dropped the bowl that I had been drying. It shattered on the floor at my feet and the sound of it was enough to bring me out of the attack that I was having, but it did nothing to stop the fear that I felt. My memories all too gleefully told me what the punishment was for breaking things.

"Duo!" Mrs. Yuy exclaimed in shock, "Don't move!"

She turned off the faucet and ran to one of the closets in the kitchen. Not even a minute later, when she returned with a broom, I would realize that she had told me not to move so I wouldn't step on one of the shards, but my panicked mind painted over the sound of her voice with my father's, ordering me not to move or I would be punished worse. Mr. Yuy completely abandoned the washer and ran to me.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," I heard myself chanting, looking down at the broken bowl with fear coiling in my gut, mixed with shame at being so clumsy that I had done that, "I'll buy another one, I'll..."

"It's alright, Duo," Heero's father was saying and reached out to me.

My body flinched from him before common sense could override my fear that I was about to be struck, but the man only placed his hand, slowly and carefully, on my shoulder. I realized then that I was shaking a little.

"It's just a dish," he said in this soft, soothing tone that immediately pulled me out of the panic attack and back into reality, "It isn't what's important. Are you hurt? Did you cut yourself?"

I stepped back, letting Mrs. Yuy start to sweep up the mess that I had made and looked down at my feet.

"N-no," I said, unsure of myself.

"That's good," Mr. Yuy said with a relieved smile.

Now that my fear was ebbing, I felt incredibly embarrassed of myself and how I had reacted. What the fuck was wrong with me? Heero's parents should have been mad at me for breaking that dish and for being so damned clumsy and stupid.

"I'm sorry," I apologized again, calmer this time, "I didn't mean to do that..."

"It isn't a big deal," Mrs. Yuy assured me as she dumped the shards into the trash bin, "just so long as you aren't hurt."

I felt so unsure and shaky as she said that to me, like her words had hollowed me out. No one had ever said that to me in my entire life and I didn't know how to react to them. I caught Heero's father staring at me intently, those familiar blue eyes piercing right through me as he looked at me with an almost curious expression. I felt an entirely different sort of panic shoot through me. He had to have realized how abnormal my reaction to him yelling at the washing machine was. Was he wondering why I had gotten so scared? Did he suspect?

"Why don't you and Heero go upstairs?" he said instead of interrogating me like I feared that he was going to, "He can show you were you'll be sleeping tonight."

"Ok," I murmured, still feeling off kilter.

"This way," Heero led me out of the kitchen.

I grabbed my duffle bag and followed him into the foyer and up the stairs.

"Are you ok?" he asked me when we reached the top.

"I feel like an ass," I muttered, my face feeling like it was on fire.

"Don't be," he insisted, "You got startled, it happens. A broken dish isn't a big deal, it's not like we don't have more of them. It was just an accident."

His words made me feel a little bit better as I reminded myself that that was true. What was abnormal wasn't that no one had gotten mad at me for breaking something by accident, it was that my father would have beaten me for something like that. The Yuys weren't abnormal, I was, my family was. It was hard to remember that sometimes, that the things that my father did to me were terrible and wrong. I had been living with it for so long that it was as normal as could be for me and everything in the Yuys home was strange.

"I shouldn't have been startled like that to begin with," I grumbled.

I looked at Heero and saw that he was holding things back, things that he wanted to say. He knew, I reminded myself, at least somewhat about the relationship that I had with my father. Did he realize that my reaction had been because of that? Would he tell his father what was going on? I didn't think that he would betray me like that, but it wasn't like I trusted him. I had lost the ability for that. I wondered, with a great deal of sadness, if I would ever be able to really trust another person again, or if my father and Quatre's death and every other shitty thing that had happened to me in my life had completely stolen that from me.

It wasn't like Heero had never given me a reason not to trust him. He had hurt me, more than most people simply because of my feelings for him, and he had the capacity to do a lot more damage. He held my heart in his hands and he didn't even realize it. That was my fault because, despite my cautious nature, I had placed it there. He had flipped sides like a coin, hiding himself and then turning on his friends for me. How long before he decided to change again and turn his back on me?

But even knowing all of that, some part of me truly believed that, if I was only a normal person, I could grow to trust the boy that I loved. I don't think that I can anymore. I had one of those moments when I truly hated my father and everything that he's ever done to me. Not only did he steal away my ability to trust in other people, he had turned me into this strange thing that couldn't even react normally to someone hitting a washing machine. I had embarrassed myself in front of Heero's parents and given them reason to worry about me, all because of what he had done.

For the first time, I truly mourned myself. I was so different, and so much had not only been taken from me, but denied me, because of my parents. How would I have turned out if I had been born to a normal family like Heero had, or if my father had never raped me or even just never raised a hand to me? Would I be a different and better person if my mother had loved me or never told me the truth about my birth? It hurt thinking about what might have been, the happiness that I could have had and I really needed to stop.

"My room's over here," Heero seemed to sense that I was upset and immediately changed subjects, continuing to lead me down the upstairs hallway.

The hallway was in tones of gold and sage, giving it an earthly feel. It was decorated similarly as the rest of the house, with a few paintings and family photos on the wall. On the far end of the hallway was a large window that overlooked the backyard and there was a small table there with a delicate looking vase filled with wildflowers. The hallway, as long as it was, only had five doors; one on our left ahead of us, one further past the stairs on the left, two on the right past the steps, and one on the far opposite end of the hallway. Even their fucking upstairs was bigger than my house was. Hell, the hallway was wide enough that I could live on the end of it by that window and feel comfortable.

I followed Heero through the single door on our left, which turned out to be his bedroom. The bedroom was about the size of my entire attic, but the comparison should end there. It was immaculately clean for a teenaged boy's bedroom, the full sized bed made neatly with an aquamarine comforter. The whole room was creamy blue with white accents that reminded me of the ocean. There were these large, door sized windows covered with white curtains, a couple of sandy colored bookcases, a dresser, a wardrobe with a small, oval mirror, two bedside tables, one of which held an alarm clock and a lamp.

The only clues of who lived in that room were the handful posters of baseball players and movie posters that I didn't recognize, as well as the desk, which was the only cluttered thing in the whole room. There were papers and books and pencils strewn all over it and Heero flushed when he saw me noticing it.

"I didn't have time to clean that before I left this morning," he muttered in embarrassment.

I couldn't help but laugh at that.

"It looks pretty clean to me," I said.

I almost remarked that he should see my room, but I never actually wanted him to, not with it's mattress lying on the floor, the scarred desk and the aged walls. I wouldn't exactly call my bedroom messy, I tried to keep it clean and orderly, but there just wasn't any place to put things. I didn't have a bedside table or a wardrobe or filing cabinet or anything like that. Just a hole in the wall and a hole in the floor to stash the things that were important to me. I wondered with embarrassment what Heero would think of the starkness of that room or my pile of scraps or the overflowing, cheap bookcase that used to belong to my mother.

Still blushing a little, Heero put his book bag down and led me back out of his bedroom to complete the tour of the second floor.

"My parents' bedroom is downstairs," he told me as he led me to the other door on the same side of the hallway as his room, "So is my father's office, so they won't come up here much. Here, this is the bathroom."

When he opened the door, I nearly laughed at him again. 'Bathroom' is what he said, but compared to mine, it looked like one of those spas that they advertised on television. For starters, my own bathroom is only big enough for two people, if one of them was in the shower at the time. His bathroom looked big enough to fit eight, not including the bath and shower. Yeah, that's right, the damned place had a separate bath from the shower. If Heero had told me that there were people in the world who weren't super rich who had something like that, I would have thought that he was joking.

The bathroom was done in various textures of sand and gold. There was a double sink with a huge mirror and two windows framing the bath. You could actually take a fucking bath in that place with the windows uncovered and no one would be able to see you. The bath itself was this huge, oddly shaped thing that could comfortably fit three people, set into the corner of the room. I can't really describe it properly, it almost looked like a jacuzzi, the actual bath made in white porcelain, but the bath was set almost into this pedestal or cabinet looking formation that was framed in amber gold granite and had wide ledges that you could easily sit on without getting wet. It looked like the sort of thing that you could lounge in for hours.

Don't get me wrong, the bathroom wasn't some swanky thing that you could imagine a celebrity having, I was just blown away by how nice it looked. The shower was just as impressive. It was just as big as the bath and made completely of frosted glass. I imagined myself trying to take a shower in it that night and couldn't do it. I was hit with this sensation... confusion, I guess. What was I doing there, where did I fit in with all of this?

"And this is the entertainment room," Heero, completely oblivious to my internally freaking out, led me out of the bathroom and into the room that was on the far end of the hallway.

I had no idea what he meant by that until he showed me in. The room had obviously been an extra bedroom when they had moved in, and it was the same size as Heero's room, but it had been converted into what looked like an extra living room. The walls had been made into book shelves that housed, not just books, but what looked like movies and games. There was a sofa, chairs, and coffee table surrounding a large television set and what looked to be several video game consoles. There was even a treadmill tucked away in one corner of the room.

"My mom won't let me have a television or game console in my bedroom, only my computer," Heero explained sheepishly, "She says that it would just distract me from doing my homework. If you want to play anything when you're over here, you're welcome to."

"I might take you up on that, I've never played anything more than a board game before," I admitted.

Heero shook his head at that, like it was some great tragedy. We left the entertainment room, passed by one of the doors, which Heero informed me was just another guest room, to the door that was right across from the bathroom and closer to the stairs.

"You can sleep in here," my friend told me and opened the door.

When I had been told that they had a guest room for me to crash in for the weekend, I had been envisioning something rather small, but cozy. Apparently, when the Yuys had moved into that house, it had boasted four bedrooms on the second floor and a master bedroom on the first. That seemed ridiculous to me, but the 'guest room' that Heero showed me was as big as his room, even if it wasn't as nicely furnished. There was a full bed, a desk, a dresser, closet, and a bed side table. Unlike Heero's rooms, the colors in this room were darker and more contemporary, mostly dark grey complimented with beige. The windows were smaller, but not by much. Hell, I would have been happy with a porthole sized window compared to my attic room.

"Is it ok?" Heero asked shyly.

"Yeah, it's great," I put my duffle bag in the corner of the room, "Thanks again for inviting me. I just need to change for work, then I'll be off. I'll see you tomorrow, though."

"Alright, have fun at work," he waved and left me alone to change.

I gave the room another once over, feeling so completely out of place, it isn't even funny. I walked to the bed and, even knowing that I didn't have a whole lot of time before work, I threw myself down on it. It was heavenly and soft, but weird. It's like... getting used to really cheap, bland soup. You eat that for most of your life and then you try soup from some fancy, pricey restaurant that has a ton of rich spices in it, and you don't like it. You know that it's supposed to taste better, and it does, but you're so used to shit that it tastes funny to you. I knew that that bed felt better than my own, but I was so used to my lumpy, flat mattress that it was hard to get used to a better one.

It was also a strange feeling just to be laying on a bed that wasn't mine. I've laid on things besides my mattress, of course, but mostly just hospital beds or couches. I had to keep reminding myself that even though that bed didn't belong to me, I was supposed to be laying down on it, so it was ok. I just couldn't equate the room that I was in as the room that I was going to be spending the next three days in. It was weird, but not a bad weird. I sighed and rolled off the bed, digging through my duffle for the work appropriate clothes that I had packed. I don't think I've ever wanted to go to work less as I did right then.

I dressed, combed my hair, and ran back downstairs. Mr. and Mrs. Yuy acted like the whole dish thing had never happened and I was all too happy to put it behind me as well. Mr. Yuy gave me the pass code to their security system and then I was out of there and on my way to the bus stop that would take me back to south Nausten.

Both of my shifts were long and boring, but I tackled each task with an energy that even Mr. Leneski applauded me for. I don't know what it was. Maybe the home cooked meal in my stomach, that I had had relatively good day if I didn't think about the dish incident, or that I had something to look forward to at the end of my shifts for the first time. Maybe it was odd and something that was kind of freaking me out, but I still felt this kind of happy anticipation. I found myself going over it in my head repeatedly all that night and early morning, 'I'm going home to Heero.'

That was a dangerous thought in how excited it made me. That house was not my home, but Heero was still there. My friend, my only friend, was there and I could be with him. And, a just as powerful thought: I wasn't going home to my father. He couldn't touch me when I was with the Yuys. He couldn't yell at me or hurt me. That night, when I would go to bed in that strange room, he wouldn't be able to crawl into my bed. That thought made me feel so happy that I was almost sick with it. If I thought about it too much, I knew that I would start to cry. A sanctuary, that was the right word for it. Heero had said that he had wanted to give me some peace and quiet, but he would never know just how right that phrase was for what he had given me. So I tried not to let my pessimistic side take hold for once and not think about how frightened I was about all the things that were changing in my life, and just tried to focus on the good things.

I stopped by my house on the way to my factory shift to take care of Pepper. Although time was short before my shift, I took the time to play with her and brush out her fur, hoping that she wouldn't be too pissed at me that I wouldn't be coming home that night. My last shift was even more boring and tiring than the first and by the end of it, all I wanted to do was lie down and sleep. My bruises were still healing and I felt sore and stiff after tossing boxes around for hours. When I left, I walked right past the bus stop and started to walk towards my house before I remembered where I was staying that night and had to turn around.

As I got off the bus on the north end and walked towards the Yuy home, I expected it to be like it always was for me going home to my own house after work, that everything would be pitch dark and I would have to stumble around some strange place on my way up to the guest room. To my surprise, even though it was after two in the morning, all those little lights on the walk way and the porch light had been turned on. And when I keyed in the security code and opened the door, the light in the foyer was on as well. I found a little post-it note on the table there while kicking off my boots.

'Duo, could you be a dear and switch off the lights when you come in? The light switch is right by the door. Thanks!' was written in fairly feminine looking writing.

They had left the lights on for me. I felt something painful quiver inside of me and had to wipe my eyes as I felt something wet there. I was just tired, I told myself, it was nothing. They were just being considerate, that was all. But as I locked the door and switched off the lights, I couldn't shake that pain, this strange, melancholy thing. I stuck the note in my pocket and, as quietly as I could, crept up the stairs and into the guest room that was mine. My duffle bag was exactly where I had left it, but someone had come into the room and turned down the sheets and closed the curtains on the blinds for me. I had that feeling again, that quiver, at the knowledge that all of that had been done for me.

I wanted to take a shower, but I also didn't want to wake up anyone that early in the morning, so I just put my pajamas on and laid down in bed. And stared up at the ceiling, wide awake.

"Fuck," I muttered an hour later, still awake, and rubbed at my eyes.

I almost laughed at myself. I had thought that things could be different there, that if I could only be in a nice, quiet place like that, a place away from the anxiety that my father gave me, I might be able to get a decent night's sleep for once. No such luck. I guess my insomnia is more deeply rooted in me, or maybe it was just because I was so unused to that room and that bed. I tossed and turned for another two hours, in that tired, hellish limbo that insomnia suffers are well acquainted with, before I gave up the ghost. I got up and walked carefully down the steps and into the living room.

I felt wrong walking around a place that I was a mere guest in at that hour, but I just couldn't keep lying there, looking up at a ceiling and agonizing over my sleeplessness. Everything felt so... alien there. I didn't even feel restless or uncomfortable, sleep was just this elusive thing. In the dark, I found the couch and laid down on it. It was a hell of a lot more comfortable than my own couch at home, but it still just felt like a couch. I curled up into a tight ball on the couch, trying to get comfortable and hoping that I would find sleep, if only for an hour. I didn't want Heero's parents see me walking around with raccoon eyes all day.

After about a half an hour later without even a slight doze, I opened my eyes at a strange clicking sound and saw a shape moving in the dark. For a moment, I thought that I was having one of my nightmares and that the thing was coming to get me. My heart hammered in my chest, but it didn't take me too long to figure out that that was just from my assumptions, and not the fear of the nightmare. I was still wide awake. Still, when that shape moved and I felt a wet nose nudging at my hand instead of claws raking at my flesh, I felt relieved.

"Kanuck," I sighed, my fears draining out of me, "Couldn't sleep either, boy?"

He laid his head on the couch right next to mine and whined, as if in sympathy. I reached out to pet the top of his head, feeling this strange, familiar comfort at the feeling of his fur.

"Want to keep me company until your owner wakes up?" I asked him.

He huffed happily and licked my face.

"Gross," I muttered, wiping the slobber off, but I let my arm drape down off the couch and rested my hand against his thick fur.

The dog moved his head off the couch and laid on the ground, seeming content to stay there with me.

"You're a good boy," I murmured and heard his tail whumping on the floor as he wagged it, "Don't tell Heero about this, ok? He'd just worry for no reason."

I closed my eyes and continued to pet the dog. It was soothing, the sound of his tail almost rhythmic.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," I muttered to him, or maybe just to the open air, "I don't belong here. I feel so out of place, like I'm an intruder. I'm not good enough, you know? But I want to be," I felt a tear track down my right cheek and ignored it, "I don't know how to be good enough for him. I wish that you could talk, so you could tell me," I slurred in my tiredness and opened my eyes to see Kanuck's own glittering at me in the darkness, "or maybe it's better that you can't. I can tell you that I love him and you're the only one in the world who can't go telling on me," I smirked to myself before I yawned and closed my eyes again.

"I just want this to last," I murmured, "Just a little bit longer, Kanuck. Can you help me do that? Help me to not fuck things up again."
*****
"Duo, breakfast is ready," a somehow familiar, feminine voice roused me from sleep.

I felt incredibly disoriented. I wasn't on my bed and the woman that was waking me up was not my mother. I didn't even think that my mother was capable of speaking to anyone, let alone me, in that sweet and gentle tone. I opened my eyes to find Mrs. Yuy's deep black ones staring down at me.

"Good morning," she greeted cheerfully.

Memory flooded back to me. I remembered going downstairs to lay on the couch with Kanuck. I guessed that I must have fallen asleep for awhile, because golden, bright sunlight streamed through the windows instead of the dim light of early morning.

"'morning," I mumbled, still half asleep.

"Oh, I didn't wake you up too early did I?" she asked guiltily.

Even without knowing what time it was, I shook my head.

"Time?" I managed to get out, fighting to wake up and be more alert.

"Ten am," I was informed, "I would have woken you up sooner, but you looked pretty deeply asleep. Was the bed uncomfortable?"

"No," I sat up stiffly, "I just have problems sleeping sometimes."

Quite frankly, I was amazed that I had gotten as much sleep as I had.

"Well, if you're not still too tired, Mr. Yuy made waffles," she beamed at me.

I immediately perked up. I hadn't eaten anything since the stew from last night, so even though I was still sleepy, food sounded heavenly. I couldn't even remember the last time that I had had waffles. We don't own a waffle iron, so it must have been some time that Quatre had taken me out to breakfast. I could smell bacon in the air, too.

"I would love some," I managed a tired smile and stood up off the couch, following Heero's mother into the kitchen.

Mr. Yuy was cooking bacon at the stove top and Heero, looking a whole lot more awake than I felt, was setting the table.

"Good morning," the both of them greeted in unison.

"Morning," I waved.

"You're just in time," Heero's father took the stack of plates from his son and started to pile on waffles and bacon onto them.

He handed me one of the plates and I thanked him, sitting down at the table. To my surprise, not only were there waffles and bacon, there was whipped cream, syrup, scrambled eggs, and a bowl filled with fresh, cut up blueberries, strawberries, apples, and bananas. I all too happily spooned some of the fruit, cream, and syrup onto my waffles and put some of the eggs on a smaller plate for later.

"You guys always eat like this?" I teased Heero as he sat down next to me, placing a tall glass of orange juice in front of me.

"The weekends are the only time that we can eat breakfast as a family," he explained, "So, yeah, we usually eat like this on Saturdays and go out to eat on Sundays."

I shook my head. It must be nice, having that kind of structure, knowing what you were going to eat, knowing that your family was going to be there, to have some kind of schedule and being able to have faith in it. Compared to Heero's daily life, mine was pure chaos. The closest that I came to having a schedule was school and work, everything else was a whirlwind. I never knew, when I opened our refrigerator, what would be in there to eat. Even if something was there the day before, it didn't mean that my parents wouldn't selfishly take all of it, especially if my father had his 'friends' over. Every day is different for me, from my sleeping habits to my meals to my interactions with my parents. I yearned for the structure that Heero seemed to have, but I tried not to dwell too much on how vastly different my life was from his.

"So," Mr. Yuy said as he sat down at the table across from us, next to his wife, "what are you boys planning on doing today?"

I shrugged and looked at Heero. Saturdays before work, I usually did half of my homework and worked on chores for Mrs. Liddle and my father. If I was lucky, I could do a little bit of reading before I had to go to work or take a walk or even go to the library. I felt a familiar worry then as I looked at my friend. I was so... fucking boring. What the hell did Heero see in me? What would he do when he finally realized how few hobbies and interests I have?

"Well, I was thinking," Heero glanced over at me, "If you don't have work until four, I have varsity baseball try outs today at two. We could relax around here, maybe watch a movie until then and we can pick up some lunch after that before you have to work. Unless that sounds too boring and you'd just like to stay here? Try outs are only for an hour and I'll probably be done by two-thirty."

"I thought that try outs are next weekend?" his father asked.

"They changed the date. I found out about it yesterday," Heero turned to me again.

"N-no, I don't think that it would be boring, but isn't this a bit early for try outs? I thought that the baseball season doesn't start until spring?" I asked.

"The season doesn't start until April, yeah," he confirmed, "but varsity starts early practice. Most of the players on the varsity team are aiming to get recruited for college, so they're pretty dedicated. If I get on the team, I'll be in practice all through the winter."

"I don't think you need to worry about getting picked," his father said with a snort.

"You're really that good?" I looked to my friend with amazement.

Rumors about Heero's athletic prowess, especially with baseball, had been flying around before he had even officially moved here. I had no clue which rumors were true, but there didn't seem to be any doubt that he was very good. He had been called the star player of the previous varsity team that he had played on. Heero just blushed and shrugged.

"I'm ok," he muttered.

His father shook his head.

"You know full well that you are a lot better than 'ok'. I've told you before, you have the skill and discipline to go pro, if you want to," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Is that what you want to do when you graduate?" I asked him.

Heero hesitated, pushing food around his plate.

"I... don't really know," he admitted, "I enjoy playing baseball because I'm good at it, but it's not something that I'm especially passionate about. I could go professional, and I would probably do alright, but I wouldn't be entirely broken up about it if I didn't, either. There's nothing that I'm crazy about, career wise. I don't really know what I want to do when I'm done with high school."

I had never met another person that was like me, that didn't know what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives, that didn't have any kind of passionate drive, a career that they could see themselves doing and loving. Now that I was a junior, it seemed like everyone else but me had a path. They had goals and dreams and I was the only one that was listless and confused and frightened about the future. It made me feel more like a freak than all those years of bullying. Hearing that hesitance from a boy that I had thought had everything in his life figured out, a boy that had this great, well off family and had once been the most popular boy in school, made me feel this deep connection with him. That we had something like that in common amazed me.

"You have all this year to think about it," Heero's father said kindly, "We'll support you, whatever you decide."

I thought mournfully of Trowa's father, how he had disapproved of Trowa's interests in wildlife photography and had wanted him to stick to his basketball career, merely because it was more 'reasonable'. My views of Heero's dad went way up at that one, little statement. I couldn't imagine having a parent that would support me, even if I chose something that they thought was stupid. I got the impression from the man that it didn't matter where Heero's life led him, he would still be proud of him. I wondered... if I did something important with my life, something special... if I got money somehow and was able to support my parents, would my father be proud of me then? Or was he simply incapable of holding me in any kind of esteem?

"What about you, Duo?" Mrs. Yuy chimed in, "What are your plans for after you graduate?"

I felt something bitter settle in the pit of my stomach and had to take a bite of waffle to smother it and give me a second to think of my answer.

"I don't really know yet," I answered truthfully.

I was pretty sure what the future held for me, but that didn't mean that I had any idea of what I was going to do when I graduated from high school. I hoped that I would still have both of my jobs by then, and some money saved up, enough to rent an apartment, although that was probably unlikely. Undoubtedly, the best option that I had was to take on another job and try to find someone to share a place with. The rest of breakfast was quiet and companionable and I was very happy to let the subject drop. The future was too terrifying of a prospect for me. I just wanted to enjoy moments like that weekend for as long as I could.

Heero beat me to the counter to set up the drying rack for the dishes, so I settled for helping clear the table. Thankfully, I didn't manage to break anything again.

"Duo, can I talk to you for a second?" Heero's father asked me when I finished stacking the dishes at the sink.

"Sure," I said, even as I felt a chill of foreboding.

I remembered the piercing, inquisitive look that he had given me yesterday, when I had freaked out and worried that he was going to ask me about it, but I followed him out of the kitchen and into the living room anyway, feeling like I was about to be scolded. My heart raced with paranoia.

"Will you be working late tonight as well?" he asked me instead, but I didn't feel much relief.

"Yes," I confirmed, "but I'll be out earlier tomorrow."

"What time?" he pressed.

I chewed on my tongue, but decided to be honest with him again.

"One," I admitted.

"That's awfully late," he frowned.

"I'm sorry if I woke anyone up last night," I said frantically, mistaking his tone, "I'll try to be quieter tonight, I promise."

"And what time did you come home last night?" he raised an eyebrow at my careless admission.

Fuck, busted.

"Two-thirty," I said, feeling awful when he looked shocked at that.

Mr. Yuy rubbed at his face, almost as if he were exasperated.

"That's illegal," he pointed out, "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," I confessed, "but I'll be seventeen in two months!"

"And it will still be illegal then," his expression was troubled, but his tone wasn't stern, making it hard for me to tell if he was about to yell at me for breaking the law or lecture me about doing something foolish, "My wife would tell me that it isn't any of my business, and I know that you are trying to help your family, but you're far too young to be working that hard! You're going to work yourself into an early grave with these kinds of hours."

"One of my coworkers says that," I said with a halfhearted smile, "but it really isn't that big of a deal, even if I'm not supposed to be working that late at my age. I don't need a lot of sleep and it's never been a problem. Quite frankly," I rubbed sheepishly at the back of my head, "I don't really have anything I'm good at like Heero. Working hard is all I've been able to do. And the money at that job is a lot better than what I was making when I was just bussing tables."

"Money is not more important than your health," he said sadly, "You might think that you have a handle on things, but this sort of thing can sneak up on you, trust me, I know. Just... think about it, alright? You're young and you have your entire life to be an adult, but you don't have much time left to be a kid. Take care of yourself and don't push yourself too hard. That's all I'm going to say about it," he held his hands up in surrender.

"Thank you, sir," I thanked him, not for his advice, but for his concern, and for letting the subject drop when he had had his say.

Just on time to miss out on that entire, somewhat embarrassing conversation, Heero walked out of the kitchen.

"Kitchen's clean," he told his father.

"Good. I have a couple of things that I need to get done in my office, so in case I don't see you before you go, good luck at your try outs, you're going to do great," he clapped Heero on the shoulder and turned his attention back to me, "And I'll see you tomorrow, Duo. We'll keep the light on for you again tonight."

"Thanks, Mr. Yuy," I felt relieved when he didn't press the issue of my coming home in the early morning and walked out of the living room down a hallway that I hadn't been in yet.

"Come on," Heero urged, "Why don't you take a shower and I'll show you how to work the gaming systems."

"Ok," I followed him upstairs, making a beeline to the guest room while he went to his own room to get dressed.

I grabbed a change of clothes from my duffle bag, as well as my shampoo, hair brush, and other various odds and ends that I had brought from home, and headed into the bathroom. Again, I felt amazed at the shower and bath. It was probably a good thing that I had work that weekend or I would have wanted to try that bath tub and probably have stayed in it until I had become soup. I decided on a typical shower instead, stripping and walking into the glass enclosed stall. The frosted glass was kind of weird. No one could see me from the outside of it beyond a dark shape, but the same was true of anyone on the other side of the glass. It made my hair stand on end for a few minutes, but I shook it off. I had locked the bathroom door anyway.

The shower controls were a bit different than my shower's at home as well. We had two knobs, hot and cold, and a little pin on the faucet that controlled whether it was on bath or shower, not that we ever used the bath one. The stopper on the drain had cracked so badly that it was impossible to take a bath in that damned thing. Our temperature controls were a bit... wonky, also. Not only did we never get hot water, per se, more like slightly warm or tepid, but sometimes the controls were swapped. As in, sometimes if you turned on the warm water, ice cold water came out and vice versa. Sometimes you could turn the knob and water wouldn't come out at all or it was brown. And the stream was completely unreliable. Sometimes it was too weak and sometimes too strong. My father said that our pipes were fucked up. I just think that that shower is possessed by a demon.

The upstairs shower at the Yuys had no such problems. It was just one dial, turn left for cold, turn right for heat, and had a small lever on the bottom that controlled the power and function of the spray. I turned the spray on to medium high and switched the water to hot. And hot water was exactly what I got. I think I might have moaned happily the second that the water hit my skin. The only time I got any kind of hot shower was after gym class, but even those showers were kind of shitty and the hot water only lasted for a few minutes.

This shower didn't have any problems with hot water. Though I usually rush through my showers, I will admit that I indulged a little bit. I braced myself on my arms, laying them crossed on the shower wall and hung my head down, just letting that hot stream fall down my neck and back. It felt like how I imagined a massage would.

"That's it," I groaned as steam filled the shower, "I've died and gone to heaven."

I took my sweet, damned time in that shower, spending several minutes just doing nothing and washing myself almost lethargically. I don't think I've ever been so clean in my damned life. When I finally got out of it, I felt relaxed and lazy, something pretty new to me. After combing my hair and brushing my teeth, I actually felt like a human being. Even my lack of sleep didn't faze me. I found Heero in the entertainment room, setting up one of the consoles. It looked a bit different than the others in that it was white, but I really couldn't tell the difference between them or what they were.

"I thought that we could play a game, unless you would like to do something else," he said a bit awkwardly, turning on the console and the television.

"This is fine," I assured him, "But don't expect me to be any good. I've never played a video game in my life."

He snorted.

"I'm not competitive, this is just for fun. You've really never played any video games before, not even on the computer?" he asked me.

"Well, not never," I confessed, "We got to play a few games for our mathematics classes in Elementary school. You know, those ones where you progress through the levels using algebra and stuff?"

"I don't really think those count," Heero said dourly, like that offended him for some reason.

"It's the closest I had to a video game," I shrugged, "And my dad took me to an arcade a couple of times when I was really little, but that's it. We don't have a computer at home or the money to buy even those little handheld game consoles."

"How do you get your homework done, then?" he asked, plopping a black controller in my hand, "I've seen you hand in graphs for Chemistry."

"It's called the library," I rolled my eyes at him, "It's this wonderful resource that has free books, desks, computers, and you can even print things out for just ten cents a go. It's truly a marvel of modern industry, you should try it some time."

"Har har," he grumbled, grabbing his own controller, only his was white and shaped like a stick while mine had to be held in both hands.

"Why does that look different than this one?" I puzzled, "And where are the cords?"

"It's a motion controller," he explained to me, "I thought you might be more comfortable with the regular controller. And recent console controllers are all wireless. We really need to get you out more."

His voice was teasing, but I wasn't quite sure if he wasn't actually serious or not. It's true that I'm not exactly worldly. I don't watch a huge amount of television and I never watch the news, but that's never bothered me. I don't think that I'm missing much. All the same, when he said 'we', I felt this odd warmth in me and hell if I knew why. The game that Heero picked turned out to be a simple racing game. It was rather colorful and cartoonish, not something that I would have imagined him playing, but the controls were easy enough for me to get the hang of, although it took a few rounds before I was even able to challenge Heero.

He was very patient, showing me which buttons did what and while neither of us were all that competitive, I found that I was enjoying myself as we played, a lot more than I thought that I would. I didn't even notice that, little by little, we had gotten closer and closer to each other on the couch until, during our last round, our arms touched. I couldn't help but blush as I realized that halfway through the game. I was so distracted by the feel of his arm against mine, even through our long sleeved shirts, that I should have easily lost, but for some reason, Heero did even worse than I did and seemed incapable of concentrating on the game.

We took a break from the game and Heero popped in a movie. It was a very silly, but colorful and endearing sci fi film about the kinds of things that all those sorts of movies seemed to be about. The world was going to be destroyed unless the male lead helped the female lead, who had incredible powers, and of course they did save it just seconds before the earth would have annihilated and fell in love with each other in the process. It was a dorky movie, with plenty of plot holes and odd, alien characters, but I found it enjoyable. The two of us had managed to shift away from each other and I was able to relax again somewhat, even if my heart was still racing from that mere proximity.

When the movie finished, it was time for Heero to go to his try out. I followed him into his bedroom where he fished his jacket out of his closet, as well as a baseball bat. It was very pale, almost white, with a black handle and looked fairly worn and well loved, but also well taken care of beyond it's obvious age. I had never actually seen a real, wooden, baseball bat before. When we played baseball in gym, they gave us these cheap, metal ones.

"Here," Heero handed it to me to hold when he saw me examining it.

"It's heavy," I remarked with surprise and it was.

I had been expecting some weight, but I couldn't imagine the kind of strain that it put on Heero to swing it.

"It's rock maple," he told me.

"Is that good?"

"It's more durable than other wood," Heero explained, "It isn't as flexible, which means that I can get bigger hits out of it. It's pretty dense, so it sucks at taking shots off the end, but I've always hit in the middle. It... used to be my grandfather's. He gave it to me the day that I got into junior league varsity. It's getting a bit worn, so I have to be careful. Maple's stronger than ash or birch, but a bad hit off the end can make them splinter."

"For someone who says that baseball isn't his passion," I teased, covering up my discomfort at holding something that was clearly important to him and handing it back to him hastily, "you sure do know a lot about it and like talking about it."

He shrugged.

"I like baseball," he admitted, "Like I said this morning, I'm good at it and it's satisfying doing something that I can excel in. I've been doing it for so long that going through the motions of it is comforting. Don't you have something like that?"

"Cooking, I guess," I told him, "Sometimes I just like make things just to make them and I guess it is comforting to me."

"You look content when you're in home ec," he said softly, "Like you're in your element and you're confident in what you're doing. You're like that when we run laps in gym, too, but you seem uncomfortable with the other activities."

I felt my cheeks heat knowing that he had been watching me intently enough to realize those things.

"I've never been very athletic, but I'm a decent runner. I've always enjoyed it," or I used to, I thought morosely, "But everything else... In case you haven't noticed, I'm not really all that graceful when it comes to sports. I've never been very interested in them, either. My dad watches football and hockey, so I at least know a little bit about those, but I've only been to one basketball game."

"Have you ever seen a baseball game before?" Heero asked me and then looked affronted when I shook my head, "Then I guess I'll have to try extra hard today to impress you."

I sputtered, but he didn't give me any time to be awkward or insist that he didn't need to do a thing for me. He wrapped the bat up in small duffle bag, slung it over his shoulder, and pulled me by my hand down the steps. His parents wished him good luck and then we were out the door. Even though I really didn't want that memory knocking around in my head, considering how quickly things had gone sour after the fact, I couldn't help remembering the night that Quatre had dragged me off to Trowa's game, how happy I had felt. Before I had become friends with Heero, that had been the last time I had felt that kind of happiness.

I really hoped that it wouldn't turn out to be a bad omen. I would do anything to keep history from repeating itself.
End Part 3

Author's Note: Well, I was going to try to fit the entire weekend into one part, but it got a bit long. I hope none of this is boring anyone, although this story isn't exactly actiony to begin with. Next part will probably be another long one as I struggle to get to this chapter's main plot.
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A Stagnation of Love (rewrite)