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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

Chapter List
- 32
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- 34
A Stagnation of Love

Chapter 7

Part 5
　

There is a very distinctive sound to the word 'fuck'. Actually, there is a distinctive sound to most swears, or at least when they are screamed at another person with the sort of hatred reserved especially for long time enemies or those with some kind of bigotry. It's a sound that is clear and obvious, everyone knows, whether they can actually hear it or not, what is being said. It's a sound that overrides all other sounds. That's something that's always perplexed me, that there are specific sounds that are so offensive, so different and frightening, that you can differentiate them from all others, no matter how loud or soft they are.

What do I mean, exactly? Well, here's a fun fact for example: did you know that, if two people are screaming obscenities at each other at three am, you can't block them out, even if you blast your cd player at max volume, headphones on and everything? I know, I've tried. But even the most obnoxiously loud rock anthem can't completely disguise that noise of hatred and animosity. But even knowing that, I always try to, and I always feel this frustration when it doesn't do me any good at all.

That's where Tuesday morning found me, sitting at my desk, my history textbook open and my notes strewn about, headphones in my ears, my music blasted so loudly that it's probably amazing that I haven't blown out my hearing. But I wasn't thinking about all the dates that I would need to memorize for the big, final history test that I would have later that day. I wasn't thinking about all the names and battles that were still alluding my grasp, like muddled grains of sand in my head that wouldn't come together no matter how many times I read the same chapters of text over and over and over and over again.

No, I was focused solely on the sounds coming from downstairs, and how it was quickly devolving from screams of 'you fucking cunt' and 'you perverted pig' to just plain, animalistic screams of rage and hatred. I knew from experience that, soon, the hitting and throwing things was going to start. It was four in the morning and the fight had started an entire hour before that. Of course, things hadn't exactly been quiet before then, either.

I had thought that I would just come home from work and stay up all morning studying for the test. It wouldn't be the first time that I had pulled an all nighter to get my work done. I should have known better, that I would have had better luck studying at the library or hell, even at the park. But at just past two am, I had little choice but to go home and do it. I was used to it, trying to study and do homework with the screaming fights that my parents had. That didn't make it any easier when they started up again that morning.

My mother, to the best of my knowledge, had started the fight. What it had actually been about, I have no clue, only that she had thrown the first insult. She had called him disgusting and loathsome, an animal that didn't deserve to eat at the table like a person. I had promptly slipped my headphones on at that point, knowing that this fight was either going to be very long, or painfully short. Their 'argument' lasted until around five am and ended with the sound of something crashing down in the kitchen, followed by the slamming of the front door.

I cautiously took my headphones off, just in time to hear heavy footsteps coming up the steps in a rapid pace, just short of a run. My immediate instinct was to find a place to hide, but I knew better by then. There would be no running and any place that I tried to hide in, he would find me. I felt tears gather in my eyes, but bit hard on my tongue to keep them from falling and to try to stop the panic attack that had me shaking in my chair.

The door slammed open, crashing against the wall and my father stood there in the door way, like the demon from so many of my nightmares. He was still wearing his work uniform, but it was heavily rumpled and even though he was several feet away from me, I could already smell the whiskey on him. His eyes had dark shadows under them and there were long, bloody scratches all over the right side of his face, made from long fingernails. My mother had gotten him good, more than once, it looked like. I just hoped that he hadn't gotten her worse. And I hoped that a quick beating was all that he had in mind for me, but as anyone reading these journals by now should now, hoping never really works out for me. He stormed up to me, this intense fire in his eyes and I couldn't be sure if the red on his face was from his drunkenness or just pure rage. He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me out of my chair, throwing me to the ground. I stayed there, frozen and unable to stop trembling as I realized what he was going to do.

"Get on your fucking knees, NOW!" he roared at me, already taking off his belt.

Automatically, like the animal that he wanted me to be, I did as he said. There was some part of me that screamed at me to do something, to try to get away, to fight against him, but it was small and grew smaller each and every time he did this to me. Soon, would I just be dropping my pants every time he walked into the room? Offering to service him like this on my own? I braced my arms on the hard floor and rested my head in them, squeezing my eyes shut as tears fell. Just how far from humanity was my father going to take me before there wasn't anything of me left?

I cried out in pain when he entered me, partially because of how brutal he did it and partially because I hadn't had any interaction with the man, sexual or otherwise, since Friday morning. It had been a welcome vacation, but my body wasn't used to it again. I wasn't sure who was more of the animal that morning, me for letting him do this, or him, who fucked me in a way that I can't even call sex. It was more like he was beating me without his fists. He was wild and violent and I felt like he was trying to break me. Maybe that was exactly what he wanted. His large hands grabbed my arms so tight, it felt like he was going to rip them off, his nails scratching my skin open and I wondered if that was just because he was too into it, or if he was taking some kind of revenge for my mother scratching his face.

It seemed to go on forever, and with each minute, he only worked himself up to a worse and worse fervor. He wrapped my braid around his hand and used it for leverage, pulling my head out of the cradle of my arms and when he came, he grabbed at my hips so hard that his fingernails left bloody trails, raking my skin right open. When he pulled out of me, it hurt like hell, but there was this huge relief that came with it, like a bad cramp letting go.

He pushed me onto the floor like I was a dead weight and I made the mistake of looking back at him. Sometimes, when he finished with me, he would have this expression of satisfaction, relief, or even affection. Those times were both easier and harder for me to accept what he had just done. But that morning, the expression on his face, turning it hard and cruel, was revulsion. He looked angry and disgusted at me, like I was the one who had just done something wrong and not him. And had I? Was I the one at fault here? Did he loathe me for being in his life, for making him do these disgusting things?

The second that my father left, I started to sob. I couldn't help it, it just came bursting out of me. As I laid there on the floor, bleeding and crying, for some reason, I thought about the last time that I had spoken to Heero, how he had told me that I could come over to his house whenever I wanted to. The compulsion came on me as hard as my crying fit, the desire to get up and actually do it, walk all the way to the Yuy's home, knock on the door, and beg to stay there for a little while, at least until I was able to feel strong again, until I was able to build up my barriers against shit like this again.

I didn't, of course. That would be stupid, walking all the way to north Nausten at 5:30 in the morning and letting Heero's family see me like that. But it was a nice fantasy. I cried harshly for awhile, trying to get all of the poison out of my system, and when I finally didn't have the strength to cry anymore, I picked myself up, tugged my pants back on despite the blood, and limped downstairs. I didn't even feel any fear as I did so, that my father was down there and now that I had fulfilled one of his needs, he might want to take the rest of his rage out on me in a more typical way. I just felt very tired. Tired and emotionless, like he had ripped all my feelings right out of me. I went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, barely feeling the cold water that came out of the faucet. I washed the blood and semen and sweat off of me, and when I was done, I put some peroxide on the scratches on my arms and hips. The cuts weren't very deep, not with my father's short, blunt nails, but they were ragged and looked pretty awful for what they were.

I wrapped a towel around myself and threw my bloody pants into the washing machine, making a mental note to run a load whenever I had the moment. I was usually a lot more careful about hiding my stained clothing, but what was the fucking point anymore? What did I care if my mother saw the evidence of what her husband had done? It wasn't like she was going to do shit about it. At the very least, I didn't have to worry about hiding that anymore. I thought about making myself some breakfast, but I knew that I would just end up throwing it all up in a matter of minutes.

I went upstairs, got dressed, and tried to get some more studying done before I would have to go to school. I had to do it laying on my side because sitting hurt too much and even though I stared at my textbook for almost another hour, when it came time to leave for school, I felt like I had absorbed absolutely no information. It was all gone, muddled up in my head between my stress and my lack of sleep. When I tried to think about what I had read earlier that morning, all the things that I tried to memorize, all I could remember was my father screaming at my mother, calling her an ugly cunt. I wanted to bang my head against the floor in hopes that the exhausted fog in my head would clear and some kind of miracle would happen.

But then it was 6:30 and I knew that there was nothing for it, I was out of time. As they say, what will be will be. Of course, that wasn't much consolidation walking to class with no sleep, feeling like zombie road kill, and knowing that I would have to take a final, the deciding factor in whether I would pass History that semester, in just a couple of hours. Stress doesn't even cover what I felt that day. I had stayed up all night trying to study, and had very little to show for it. Not that I would have been able to sleep anyway, but I felt the wear from it very keenly. I spent every second between classes with my nose in my American History 2 text book, trying to cram facts into my skull at a frantic pace.

My history class was, thankfully, right after lunch, so even that period saw me sitting down at my usual table and pouring over worksheets and notes. I didn't even look up when Heero sat down across from me.

"You look like shit," he said bluntly.

I just grunted at him.

"You're as pale as a ghost and you look like a raccoon. Did you get any sleep at all?" his voice was like white noise washing over me, soothing and comforting, but also distracting because his was the one voice that I couldn't completely tune out.

"I'm fine," I muttered, trying to focus on the sentence that I was reading.

"Duo," he placed a hand on my text book and pushed it down, away from my face, instantly gaining my full attention, "I really don't think you're going to be any more prepared for this test in the next thirty minutes than you are now. Aren't you going to at least eat anything?"

"I'm not hungry," I sighed, but closed my textbook, knowing that he was right. I let my head fall onto the table with a soft 'thonk', "I'm screwed, aren't I?" I groaned.

"What's wrong?" he asked in concern, pushing his tray of food over to me like a gentle reprimand.

I stared at the food. I didn't want it at all, but I found myself fishing out a french fry just to appease him.

"I didn't get much studying done," I mumbled, trying to find the energy to care even a little about the food that I was chewing on, "My parents were fighting all morning. I couldn't sleep, either."

He winced in sympathy.

"I'm sorry. Look, I'm sure you'll do fine on the test, it's just the same stuff that we've been working on all semester. It's more important that you eat something, especially if you haven't had any sleep. I just wish that you had the time to lay down somewhere," he said mournfully.

Even with everything that I had gone through that morning, his concern for me actually got a small smile out of me. It continued to amaze me how, just by being around him, he made me feel better.

"I'm used to losing sleep," I said, "but I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't get a decent grade on this final."

Even after declaring that, I didn't pick up my textbook again, but spent the lunch period listening to Heero talk about how his baseball try outs had turned out, who would be on the team with him, and sharing half of his lunch. When the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, my stomach cramped up with anxiety.

"Don't worry, you'll do fine," Heero tried to assure me.
*****
But despite all of my friend's reassurances that I had done well, I didn't. I suppose that doesn't come as much of a shock, least of all to me. I couldn't concentrate on the questions. I don't know if it was just because I was so tired, or because of my anxiety, but it was like I was reading things in gibberish. Half of the questions I couldn't remember the answers to at all, my brain was so scrambled. I felt an intense failure when I was the last one to bring my test up. Even my teacher, Mrs. Kreskge, shared a knowing look with me. My grades in history were not the best, and never have been. I had a D+ average going into the final, which was worth a significant chunk of my grade, mostly thanks to shitty test scores. My homework average was the only thing keeping me afloat. If I didn't get at least a C on that final, and I knew immediately that I was going to be lucky if I didn't anything lower than a D, I was going to flunk the course. A course that I needed in order to graduate, and there was no way I was going to be able to go to summer school, not without my father flipping out at me about it.

I walked out of that classroom feeling like the most pathetic, stupid loser in the world. Not even Heero was able to cheer me up. After a few attempts, he surrendered to the fact that I was going to be miserable for quite some time, and that something huge was bothering me, and more or less let me sulk. He stayed close to me, though, and was very sympathetic. More than I deserved. When I bumped into Mrs. Kreskge after gym class ended and was told to follow her to her office, I felt like the world was going to come crashing down around my head. Heero, obviously committed to being the best friend anyone could ask for, patiently waited outside as I went to my sentence.

"I'm sure you know why I asked to see you, Duo," Mrs. Kreskge stated the moment that I closed the door behind me, pushing her glasses up her nose.

Like most of my teachers, she didn't have much of a soft spot for me, but tolerated me more than some. It wasn't my sexuality that she didn't like or even my attitude, she didn't like me because she saw mine and Relena's 'relationship' as a distraction to her classroom. I also don't think that she liked me much because of my father, who had been one of her students during his three year stint at this high school. I don't know exactly what he had done to rub her the wrong way, but I had heard, unsurprisingly, from other staff members that had known him back then that he had had a bit of an attitude problem.

To her credit, Mrs. Kreskge didn't really take it out on me, she just wasn't overly warm with me, either. Of course, she didn't seem to be especially warm with any of her students, so maybe I was wrong and that was just her personality.

"The test," I said mournfully, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of her desk.

I had been in that office a handful of times that semester, usually to get lectured either about my behavior or my poor grades. Like all of the teacher offices, it was small and cramped with filing cabinets, the walls decorated with maps and timelines of various points in history, like the students that came in there needed a reminder of which class they were getting scolded over.

"Yes, the test. I've had the chance to grade yours and I must say, I'm disappointed in you," her stare was cold and impersonal as she looked at me over her desk.

I couldn't help but flush at her words, embarrassed by my obvious failure. She slid my test back to me across the desk and when I picked it up and looked at it, I felt like ripping it to shreds. Something painful tightened around my heart and I felt this deep helplessness and anger.

"I expect better out of someone like you," she lectured me, "I've seen the work that you've done on some of your homework assignments. Now, either you've been copying someone else's work, which I do not believe to be the case, or you have been slacking greatly on your tests. You don't look well today, are things alright at home?"

I looked up from my test to blink at her in astonishment. She was the first teacher that had ever asked me that question and it threw me for a loop. Her expression was a bit softer as she studied me and I wondered what she suspected.

"Things... things are fine," I lied lamely and almost winced at how unconvincing my tone was, "I mean..." I struggled with myself, debating what I should say, my tired mind trying to find the right compromise between a truth that I couldn't tell and a lie that would be too obvious, "My parents have been a bit stressed lately, but..." I hung my head, unable to look at that piercing stare from the elderly woman, "My grades are my fault. I didn't study enough yesterday. I had a lot of problems remembering things... I'm sorry, this was the best that I could do."

"I doubt that," she sighed, "I am willing to offer you the chance to raise your grade. There's a make up test tomorrow after school, and if you can get a better grade on that, I am willing to strike this test off your average."

My eyes widened at her generosity. Make up tests were only usually given to students that were sick or had some disability during the test.

"T-thank you," I said earnestly, standing and clutching my test in a tight grip, "thank you so much."

"2pm sharp," she advised me, "and I suggest that between then and now, you develop better study habits, Mr. Maxwell."

"Yes, Ma'am," I nodded and hurriedly bustled out before she could take back her offer.

"How did it go?" Heero asked me when I walked out of the office.

"I don't want to talk about it," I told him tersely, walking right by him.

And I didn't. Yes, I was grateful that Mrs. Kreskge had given me a second chance. Most kids would be jumping for joy at that, but I wasn't. Being grateful was one thing, but I wasn't hopeful for any kind of miracle. So I had a second shot, great. How the hell was it going to be any better than my first?

"Duo!" Heero called to me, following me out to the parking lot.

All of the school buses had already left and there weren't many kids or teachers lingering out there. Good, because I didn't want to deal with anyone. I stopped as my friend reached out and grabbed my arm, stopping my escape.

"Hey, talk to me. What happened?" he asked.

I was so worked up, my anger making my heart pound unpleasantly and all I wanted to do was punch something. My immediate response was to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone to beat myself up over how stupid and useless I was in peace, but when I turned around, his expression was so worried, so open and honest, it deflated me. He let go of me and I sat down on the brick ledge that ran across under the overhang we were standing under.

"I got a D-," I muttered.

Heero winced.

"I'm sorry, Duo," he apologized.

"Well don't be!" I snapped at him, "It has nothing to do with you!"

I hated myself for saying something like that to the only friend that I had, but I couldn't stop the bitterness that was pouring out of me.

"Is there anything you can do to bring your grade up?" he ignored my testiness.

"Mrs. Kreskge is letting me take a make up exam," I told him tonelessly.

"Well, that's not so bad then is it?" he asked with a bright smile, "You'll do better next time, don't worry about it-"

"Stop it!" I snarled at him angrily, "Stop saying that shit! Stop... having this faith in me that I'm going to get a good grade or that I'm smart, that my grades aren't a reflection of who I really am! Just cut the shit, Heero! This is the reality! You think that if I could have gotten a better grade, I would have gotten a D-?! You think that I want to fail this class, that I'm just holding back?! No! I tried! I tried as hard as I could and I still fucked up! And tomorrow, I'm going to fuck up again! Hell, maybe I'll even get an F, because that's all I'm capable of! Failing. So stop saying that I can do better when I fucking can't! I'm a loser and I'm always going to be a loser!"

I hung my head and hid my face in my hands. I could feel tears pricking at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall, not in front of him. I was such a miserable excuse for a human being, too stupid to pass a test and too full of useless anger to be a good friend. I had yelled at Heero, and he hadn't deserved any of it. But instead of hitting me or telling me that he didn't want to be my friend anymore, which was exactly what I deserved, he sat down next to me and put a hand on my knee.

"Duo," he needled softly, "Come on, tell me what's wrong, what's really wrong here. This isn't just about having to take the class over, is it? You can't really believe all of those things."

"Yes, I do," I muttered into my hands.

It took me a few minutes, but I raised my head and rubbed at my tired eyes, feeling incredibly worn.

"You know, when things got bad with the bullying, I thought about quitting school," I smirked bitterly, "I thought about it a lot, especially when things got worse at home. School didn't mean anything to me. Graduating was worthless. I thought about just going to work somewhere, cutting all the bullshit and not having to deal with Relena or Zechs anymore. But I stayed. I thought it was because of Quatre, because I didn't want to let him down. And I thought that it was because I had nothing better to do, that I would just fail in getting a decent job anyway, or my father would flip out."

"But that's not the real reason, I know that now. I... I don't want to fail, Heero," I gripped at my braid as it fell over my shoulder, wringing it tightly, the pain oddly comforting, "I don't want to be like him. I... I can't be like him."

"Like who?" Heero asked, his tone infuriatingly soft and gentle, not pushing me, but listening intently.

"My dad," I managed with anguish, "I can't be like him. You know, he never graduated high school. My mom didn't, either. She got pregnant and then the both of them had to make ends meet all on their own. That's why, when he got fired, we had such a hard time. No one wants to hire a high school drop out. I don't want to be like that, I don't want to be just another Maxwell failure. Can't I do this one thing? Can't I prove to my parents that I can at least do this right? Why am I so stupid? Why can't I do better? This shouldn't be so hard, so why is it? Why am I such a constant fuck up?"

"Have you ever considered," my friend suggested instead of continuing to insist that I was wrong, "that the problem isn't yourself? Have you ever considered that the reason why your grades are low isn't because your... lacking in intelligence, but because your household environment is keeping you from concentrating on your work? If your parents are always fighting and yelling and are making it a volatile place for you, how can you possibly study? Maybe, instead of thinking things like 'I can't possibly do better than this', you should just try to study some place that's quieter and more structured?"

I looked over at him, meeting his blue gaze. He didn't mock me for the tears that were clearly in my eyes, but just gazed patiently back.

"I don't know," I muttered, "I've gone to the library to study before, but it never seems to help. They close early and the only time I really have anymore to get work done is at work or after it. And even if that were true, I should be able to work around it! If I were smart, like you say that I am, why should a little bit of noise matter?"

"It's not just a little bit of noise," he insisted, "Concentration is a big key to studying and memorizing information. Look, I'm not saying that I have all the answers here, but don't just give up! I know your parents are hard on you and it might seem like you don't have any options, but don't just accept that you can't do any better when you don't know that," he chewed on his lip a little, mulling something over, "I know that you have work, but I have a proposition."

"Actually," I lamented, "I'm going to have to take it off. I'll miss the money, but if I have any hope of passing this damned class, I'm going to need to take the time off tonight. Even if it doesn't do me any good at all."

"See?" he said with a smile, "That's what I love about you. Even if you say that there's no hope, you still put that kind of effort in. All I'm asking is that you take the next step and try things differently."

'That's what I love about you.'

I felt my face go about as red as a pepper and my heart stopped beating. That or it was beating so fast that I couldn't even feel it. I was going to combust. I was never going to breathe again. I-

"What's the proposition?" I somehow managed to speak as my brain took a speedy vacation from reality. I even managed to maintain my voice and not just squeak it out like some little kid.

"Study at my house," he offered, "Call your bosses and tell them you can't come in today, then meet me at home. I can help you study and you'll be someplace quiet. You can even use my computer. I have all my history notes in there. Who knows, they might be helpful."

"I couldn't-," I started to protest.

Just how much was I going to impose on him and his family? He wasn't even acting mad after I had yelled at him, instead he was offering me all that.

"You can and you will," he said firmly, "Just come meet me when you're ready. Just try, alright? If it doesn't help at all, then I'll shut up about this and you'll at least have a bit of quiet before you go home tonight. Ok?"

"Fine," I sighed, "I'll try. But I still don't think that it's going to help me."

To my utter shock, he pulled me into a brief, but tight hug. All of the blood in my body made a dedicated journey to my head and I thought that I just might pop something.

"I know you don't believe me, but it will be alright. Just... if you feel these things again, talk to me, ok? You don't have to go through this by yourself, you know. Maybe I don't understand everything, but I'm your friend and I can try to help you," he told me.

I had to stand up and sling my back pack over my shoulder to hide my utter happiness at that hug.

"I'll try to remember," I murmured, looking at the ground, but then shyly glanced at him again, "Heero, I'm... I'm sorry. I wasn't mad at you. I was mad at myself... and I took it out on you and that isn't ok."

"No," he touched my back lightly, "but I get it. Everyone gets mad and frustrated sometimes. I forgive you."

I managed a weak smile.

"Well, I think I'm done embarrassing myself enough for one day. I'll use the phone in the main office and meet you at your house then."

He hesitated for a moment, but then beamed at me.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," he said.
*****
By the time I had called both of my bosses to cancel my shifts that day, I felt even more like an asshole, not less. After everything that Heero had done for me, I had snapped at him, just because I had gotten depressed and angry at myself. He hadn't even gotten upset about it. I felt a hell of a lot worse about yelling at him than I did skipping two shifts. That was at least necessary. Even if I didn't have any faith in my ability to pass that test, I had to agree with Heero that I had to try. I needed it, and not just because I had to pass the class. My self-confidence could really use a boost at that point.

It wasn't that long of a walk from the school to Heero's house, so I went on foot. It was cold again, the wind harsh and biting, but it wasn't snowing at least. I rang the doorbell and was surprised when, instead of Heero, his father answered the door, looking perplexed to see me there.

"Uh, hi, Mr. Yuy," I greeted him.

"Hello, Duo," the man said in confusion, "Did you forget something here Sunday?"

"No," I was getting more bewildered by the minute, "Heero asked me to come here so we could study together, didn't he tell you?"

Mr. Yuy's brow furrowed.

"When did he tell you that?" he asked.

"About twenty minutes ago, right after class. I thought that he would have told you if you're home. Didn't he come home yet?"

"No," he confessed, "Heero has his first varsity practice today, he texted me about it earlier. It's going to go on for a few hours and the coach is going to take the team out for dinner afterwards, so he won't be home for quite some time."

"Oh," I felt my heart drop into my stomach.

All sorts of terrible, paranoid thoughts screamed at me. Heero had lied to me. Ok, I could deal with that. It wasn't like I've been completely honest with him, I wasn't going to get pissy at him just for being dishonest. But why? Was this to get back at me for flipping out at him? But as far as pranks went, this was pretty lame. And he had seemed so honest when he had offered me a place to study for the evening, I just couldn't believe that he would give me that, knowing that I would just get turned away.

I tried to be logical about it. The fact was that Heero wasn't home and there was nothing that I could do about that. But it still hurt. He had given me an ounce of hope. I supposed that it wasn't really his fault that he didn't know how rare and precious that was. Still, I felt betrayed. I had needed him, and he had turned his back on me.

"I'm sorry," I forced a smile on my face, "We must have had a miscommunication. I'll just... uh... go home now."

I started to turn to walk away as fast as my feet could carry me, sadness wrestling with embarrassment, but I didn't even get to turn my back all the way to Heero's father before he spoke again.

"You can stay, if you like," he offered, "Heero isn't here, but it would just be you and me until the missus comes home at four. The house will be quiet, if you need to do your homework."

"No, it's ok," I protested, "I don't want to impose. I mean, I'm just Heero's friend, I can't force myself on you like that."

"Nonsense," he scoffed and moved from the door, opening it wide in invitation, "Come in and relax. You're always welcome here."

I twisted the strap of my book bag in both of my hands as I tried to decide, but it really wasn't much of a hard choice. I walked inside the house, feeling incredibly nervous, but the familiarity of the place helped to sooth a bit of that.

"Thank you very much, sir," I said as I took my sneakers off, "I promise, I won't bother you at all."

"It's fine," he smiled, "I'm just logging some of my notes on my office computer, nothing important. Why don't you use Heero's desk to study? His computer is just on sleep mode if you need that as well."

"Sure," I nodded, remembering what Heero had said about his notes, "Thank you again, so much."

"It's not a big deal," he started, but I shook my head at that.

"It really is," I insisted, "I don't know why he lied about not being here, but Heero offered to help me study for a make up test for the history final that we had today. I... I didn't do so well on it and I really need a decent grade, but my house is... well, it's not a great place to study right now, which is kind of why I did so horribly on the test, I guess. That, or I'm just that awful," I knew that I was rambling and that it was part from being nervous and part from my lack of sleep, but I couldn't get it stopped, "What I'm trying to say is, this means a lot to me."

To my relief, Heero's father chuckled.

"Well, then I am very glad that I could convince you to stay," he placed a hand on my shoulder and walked me to the steps, "Stay as long as you like. You can stay for dinner, too. Mrs. Yuy and I were just going to get Chinese since Heero isn't here, if you don't mind that."

"You don't need to feed me," I tried to protest, but he waved off my concerns.

"Just yell if you need anything," he said and walked into the living room.

I watched him go with this surreal feeling in my gut. Heero might have lied about being there, but he had still given me exactly what he said he would. I felt doubt about my suspicions, that he had done this maliciously, but I had no clue what he had been thinking, so I let it go. I went upstairs and realized with a sharp pang as I walked into Heero's room that that feeling I had had that weekend, that this was a strange place, was gone. I still felt out of place, but I felt this... I don't know, familiarity. I knew that painting, that vase, that bed. It wasn't home, but it was something. Something that I didn't have a word for. Comfort, I suppose comes close.

Even though it was familiar, I still sat down at Heero's desk feeling like an intruder. His desk was much cleaner than it had been when I had visited and I found ample space to put my text book and notes on. Heero's computer was a fairly expensive looking laptop and I spent a whole ten minutes staring at it's closed lid, debating whether I should use it or not. What if I broke it? I sighed at my own hesitance and opened it. Both Heero and his father had given me permission to use it, I would just be very, very careful with it.

A cheery, bright background greeted me as the computer switched itself on. There was no password and Heero's notes were already up. He must have been using them the last time he had been at the computer. I scanned through them and found with some surprise that they were a lot more thorough and neat than my own were and were going to be a lot more useful. I dove right into them, reading line after line. When I found an event that had a date, I repeated it to myself over and over and then forced myself to try to recall it after reading a few more lines.

When I got to the last page, I found with satisfaction that it was over an hour later. I had managed to get through all of his notes without being disturbed even once. Even better? I could remember at least half of the dates that I had read. It really hit me then, something that I hadn't really realized during my weekend there, just how quiet that house was. There was no screaming, no cars honking, no sounds of drunken parties or loud music being blared from any of the neighbors. There was total silence. It was... amazing.

I poured over everything, again and again, powering through my exhaustion with pure dedication. I used a blank notebook that I had in my bag to quiz myself on the things that had been in our collective notes, testing to see what I could remember and beating into my head what I was still shaky on. At some point, Mr. Yuy came into the room with a plate of various food; chicken fingers, egg rolls, lo mein, beef fried rice and a few things that I didn't recognize but ate anyway. I remember thanking him and him being amused that I didn't even raise my head from my textbook, but he quickly left me alone.

I didn't stop reading and taking in information even as I ate. I remember just thinking 'I have to do this, I can't fail, I have to keep at it' with a fervor that probably would have disturbed some people, if they had been watching me. Later, I would realize how stupid and a bit nuts I was being, but even as my tiredness hit me, I refused to acknowledge it. When my eyes started to droop, I pinched myself, hard, and kept staring at the computer screen.

I made it halfway through the food that Mr. Yuy had brought me before my sheer exhaustion finally pulled me under. I only know that because, when I felt someone shake my shoulder lightly, I opened my eyes to see the dish still sitting next to me, one of the chicken fingers two-thirds eaten.

"Duo," Heero's father had such a soothing tone, I wanted to just fall right back to sleep, "Come on, you can't sleep like this, you'll hurt your neck."

"Hm?" I muttered and slowly sat up, rubbing at my eyes.

I looked around, trying to piece together where I was and what was going on. It didn't take me long.

"Sorry," I mumbled, "I must have dozed off."

"It's fine," he chuckled, "but you look exhausted. Why don't you lie down for awhile?"

"I-I couldn't," I tried to protest, but it was hard when laying down was exactly what my body wanted me to do, "It's late and I have more work to do. I don't want you to fuss over me."

"It's only just turned 5," he soothed, "and you're not going to get much more studying done if you're too tired to keep your eyes open. Just a couple of hours and you'll do fine. You'll have to use Heero's bed, though. The guest room bed isn't made up anymore. We got the washing machine fixed and they're not dry yet."

"But Heero-" I started to protest again, feeling weird about using his bed when he wasn't even there.

"Won't care," his father assured me, "Now come on, you've been staring at this screen for too long."

He reached over and closed the laptop's lid. He gently touched my arm and led me to my feet. I was at the point of tiredness that I couldn't even find the words to say no anymore. I walked to Heero's bed, let his father pull the sheets down for me, and practically fell on it. I think that I would have fallen asleep right then and there if Mr. Yuy hadn't ruffled my hair. My eyes shot open and I stared up at him, startled.

"Rest, Duo," he urged, "and you'll feel better when you wake up."

I watched him leave and softly close the door behind him. The last thought that I had before I let sleep take me was a single, sorrowful question. When was the last time that my father had done that to me? Ruffled my hair? He had done it a lot when I had been a child, but lately... I couldn't remember. So many years... the last time I could remember him touching me so kindly, without sex or hitting being involved, was... when? When I had cried at the kitchen table and he had held me? Hadn't there been a time after that? Some time... in the last three and a half years that he had touched me so... paternally?

I think I might have cried a little, but if I did, it's just an impression I had. I slept for a long time, longer than I would have liked, but no one had decided to wake me up. My sleep was deep and uninterrupted by anything. The nervousness that I had felt the last time that I had slept in that bed was gone. Instead, I found it comforting. The pillows smelled like Heero and even after I had only slept in it once, I had gotten used to it somehow. It was ten o'clock when I woke up, almost five hours later, and I felt more refreshed than if I had slept for eight back home.

I slipped out of Heero's bed and opened up the computer again. It was late, but I wanted to make sure that I had retained at least some information, despite my lengthy nap. I mourned that loss of time, but Heero's father had been right, I wouldn't have been able to study well as tired as I had been. I quickly scanned over my friend's notes again and felt this incredibly relief when I was able to remember almost all of the important details on my own. I guess that sleep really had done my some good, the dates and names had stuck in my head, at least most of them, enough that I knew that I was going to get a better grade on the make up. That was something even rarer than hope: confidence.

I started to pack up my things when it dawned on me that Heero still wasn't there. That instantly worried me because Coach Horner never would have let his players stay out that late on a school night. Besides, being gone for seven hours for a practice seemed excessive. What if something had happened to him? What if Zechs had jumped him? Heero had a cell phone. If I could get the number off his parents, I could call him and make sure that he was ok. Of course, if he really hadn't come home, his parents had already tried that. I tried not to worry about it, for all I knew, Heero stayed out late all the time, and even if there was something wrong, there was absolutely nothing I could do that his parents couldn't.

I picked up the desk and looked around the room. The unmade bed made me feel guilty. I felt like all I was doing was using Heero and his family. What had I ever given back to them for all that they had done? I was so worthless, there was nothing that I could do. I migrated around the bedroom and picked things up; dirty clothes, pieces of paper, things that were obviously out of place, and busied myself with meticulously making the bed, but it didn't make me feel much better. I sighed, shouldered my back pack, and made my way downstairs. Despite my reassurances to myself, I decided to try to find Heero's father if he was still awake and ask him where Heero was.

That turned out to be completely unnecessary when I walked into the living room and found my missing friend laying on the couch, fast asleep. More guilt pricked at me as it dawned on me that he was sleeping down there because I had been in his bed and he hadn't wanted to wake me up. I walked over to him and kneeled down in front of him. The living room was dark, but the sky light was filled with stars and the half moon, giving me enough light to see his face.

Whatever doubts that I had had about him lying to me vanished. This was who Heero was, not the bully that had quickly changed sides to help me, but this boy who, just to give his new friend the chance to sleep, had allowed himself to be kicked out of his own bedroom. I was sure at that moment that, whatever reason Heero had had to lie to me about being there that evening, it had been a good one and not one meant to hurt me.

Looking at him then, his handsome face smoothed out in sleep, his dark bangs obscuring one eye, I wanted to kiss him so badly. I had forgotten how good that felt, just kissing and touching and holding another person. As bad as my relationship had gotten with Trowa, that's the one thing that I miss. Some part of me wanted that so badly with Heero that it hurt. I leaned in close to him, Heero's smell, the same smell that had been on his sheets, was intoxicating and I could feel my heart race. I could do it, I knew. He was fast asleep. One little kiss, and he would never know.

"Thank you," I whispered to him softly and stood back up, my hands shaking with my poorly repressed need to touch him.

I took an afghan that was slung over one of the chairs and laid it over him before turning and walking out of the house, like a ghost in the night.
*****
Heero and I didn't really talk about my going to his house the next day. I was too busy having a heart attack over the make up test and he was acting spacey, like there was something heavy on his mind. Honestly, I barely noticed it until after the fact, but whatever decision making process had him distracted, he had dealt with it by Thursday, so it barely made it past my radar on Wednesday. Tuesday night, I went home, sneaked past my father, and went right to bed. Between him and my mother's continuous fighting, which would only get worse by the following week, I only managed another two hours, but that was ok. The make up test on Wednesday went a lot more smoothly for me with seven hours of sleep under my belt and the intense studying that I had done. I actually felt confident handing my test in, a rare feat. And when I got my grade back after class on Thursday, I felt another rare thing as I stared down at my test: shock.

"Well?" Heero asked me eagerly as we walked out of the classroom together.

"I..." I said in a bit of a daze, my mind still catching up to reality, "I got a B."

"That's great!" he exclaimed.

"I've never gotten a B in history before," I mused out loud.

I could still remember Mrs. Kreskge's satisfied smile as she had handed my test back to me. It still didn't feel real. Some part of me thought that it had to be a fluke, that the grade was wrong, but I knew that it wasn't. How the hell had I done that?

"I told you that you could do it if you just tried," Heero said a bit smugly, "You aren't as dumb as you think you are, you just need better study habits is all."

"Thank you," I said earnestly, some emotion nearly choking me as it filled my throat, "If you hadn't told me to come over on Tuesday... there's no way I would have passed this, let alone gotten a grade like this. I... there's nothing that I can do to repay you... I don't know what to say. You're the only person that's actually believed that I could do something like this... in a long time."

"You don't need to thank me," he said softly, "We're friends, this is what we do, we help each other out. I'd be a pretty shitty friend if I couldn't do that much for you. Don't worry about trying to pay me back, that's not why I did it. But I'm sure that something will come up that you'll help me with. You can help me study for the Spelling final that we have next week if you like."

"I would," I nodded eagerly, still overwhelmed with my gratitude.

"Look, Duo..." he glanced away from me nervously, "About Tuesday, when I invited you over..."

"You don't have to tell me," I insisted, partially because I was afraid of what he was going to say and partially because I just didn't care about his dishonesty anymore. It was a drop in the bucket, one, minor bad thing that he had done amidst all of the good and wonderful, "I know you went to your practice, it's not a big deal."

"It is," he lamented, "I didn't want to lie to you, but you were so distraught... I thought that I knew what you needed, but I knew that if you knew that I wasn't going to be there, you wouldn't go."

"That's not true," I protested his lie, but he shot me a knowing look.

"Really? It was hard for you just to agree to come over to study, would you really have gone to my house knowing that I wouldn't be there?" he pressed.

"No," I sighed, "I was ready to leave when your father told me that you weren't going to be home. I only ended up staying because he convinced me."

"I'll have to thank him, then," Heero said.

"Me, too. He didn't just let me stay, he gave me dinner and let me sleep in your bed... Sorry about putting you out, by the way," I apologized.

"No big deal," he laughed, "It's not like you're some stranger, and you've slept in it before. My parents were impressed that you cleaned my room and made the bed. You really didn't need to do that, you know."

I blushed and shrugged. I didn't try to explain that that was just the way that I had been raised and even if I hadn't been, I had felt guilty and had needed to do something for him, even if it had been small.

"Um, do you mind if I tag along with you when you go home?" I asked him, "I really wanted to thank your father in person. He was really nice to me."

I didn't mention the whole tucking me in thing, it was too personal for me.

"Ok. He won't be home, but we can swing by his office after school," Heero told me.

"That's ok!" I waved my hands frantically in dismissal, "I don't want to bother him while he's at work."

"It's fine," he said nonchalantly, "If he's with a patient, then we can just leave. Otherwise, he doesn't mind if I visit him."

And so, that's where Thursday afternoon found me, walking to Mr. Yuy's office with Heero. As it turned out, his practice was right in Nausten and his office was just a ten minute walk from the school. I had been imagining one of those small businesses that was a part of one of the strip malls in central Nausten, but his office was actually a part of one of the local health clinics, a much nicer and more professional area. It was fairly empty when we walked in, with only the receptionist around.

"Hi, Amy," Heero greeted her, "Is my dad free?"

"Hello, Heero," she smiled at him, "Yes, he just finished with a patient, you can go right in."

"Thanks," he nodded to her and led me out of the waiting room and down the hall, past a couple of doors to one that bore Mr. Yuy's name. Justin Yuy.

Heero reached out and knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

My friend practically pushed me into the office before I could have any more protests about doing this.

"Hey, Dad," Heero greeted.

Mr. Yuy's office was bigger than I had imagined that it would be, but pretty cozy. There were the typical framed certificates on the wall and couple of paintings of various scenery. There were a bunch of bookshelves packed with books on psychology, a few that looked pretty interesting that I wouldn't have minded to read. His desk was large and made of mahogany. He was seated at it, obviously using his computer when we entered.

"We aren't bothering you, are we?" I asked nervously.

"Duo wanted to talk to you about something," Heero interrupted me.

"Of course," his father smiled at me, the same, exact smile that Heero would have sometimes, "You aren't bothering me at all, what is it?"

I turned to look at my friend for guidance, but the sneaky, little fuck walked out of the office, closing the door behind him.

"I'm sorry that I missed saying good bye to you yesterday," Mr. Yuy walked from behind his desk, "but you really looked like you needed the rest. How did the test go?"

"Really, really well, actually," I told him, "I got a B."

"That's great, Duo," he smiled even brighter, "I'm glad."

"I wanted to thank you for letting me stay there to study," I rubbed sheepishly at my neck, "And for dinner and letting me sleep in Heero's bed... I really can't thank you enough for that. If there's anything I can do to repay you..."

"There's no need for that," he scoffed, "And you didn't need to clean Heero's room, either. You were a guest, I don't need to be repaid just for helping you find a quiet place to study."

"No, I did need to do that," I protested, "I felt like I was using you... and I was," I chewed on my lip, debating what I was about to say, but I felt like it needed to be said, "From the first time Heero invited me into your home, I felt happier there than I ever had in my own house. And this weekend, every time I came back after work... I felt like I was going home. I had no right to feel that way, but it's the first time I've ever felt it. Whenever I go back to my house, I call it home, but it hasn't felt that way, especially lately. It's just the house that I grew up in. Your home it's... it's peaceful and quiet, and your family is amazing. It isn't right that I keep wanting to stay just because it's better than my own when I don't belong there."

I looked down at the floor, feeling ashamed of myself.

"My parents fight all the time. Lately, it's been every single day. They scream and swear and throw things at each other... When I failed that test, Heero suggested that it wasn't because of me, but because I can't get my work done at home with all that going on. I hadn't wanted to believe that, but I guess it's true. I think that, when he offered for me to come over that day, I hadn't really believed that it was going to help. But I agreed to anyway, not because I really wanted a place a study, but because I needed to be some place quiet for awhile. I needed to get away, and it's wrong that I keep using you guys like that. So, I just wanted to say thanks, because of you, I was able to pass that test, but also sorry-"

My words were cut off when Mr. Yuy suddenly enveloped me in a gentle, but warm hug. It made me flinch for a moment, his movement taking me by surprise, but it felt good and I found myself melting into it.

"You don't need to apologize for that," he told me softly, "Don't ever apologize for taking advantage of something that's being offered to you, something that you need. I'm happy that we were able to give you a place to study, and I'm relieved that our home could be a sanctuary to you."

I felt a cold loss when he let go of me, but some of the warmth lingered in my chest at the memory of his arms around me, and his kind words. I watched as he returned to his desk and looked through his briefcase for something.

"There is something you can do to repay us," he told me, walking back to me with something clenched his hand.

He reached out and I took what was in his hand. The last thing that I expected to see being placed there was a key.

"What..." I asked, bewildered.

Mr. Yuy placed his hands on my shoulders and smiled at me.

"I have a favor to ask you. This is the spare key to our house. Whenever you feel like this... whenever you need a place to stay, if you're parents are fighting and you need some peace and quiet, or even if you just need to use one of our computers for your homework, come over and rest whenever you're able to. Even if Heero or even Mrs. Yuy and myself aren't home, you just come right over. You can eat our food, watch television, whatever you like. You are always welcome in our home, Duo. Promise me that you'll at least consider it."

I looked up at him in shock for a moment, then down at the brass key in my hand. It felt like it weighed about a hundred times heavier than it had when he had first dropped it into my hand. What he was offering me was too much. His warm kindness was too much for me. I felt like I was either going to burst into tears or throw the key back at him and run. Who was I for him to be offering that sort of thing to? Why was he being so nice? I couldn't understand his actions.

"I-" I started to say, but the words got stuck in my throat.

I needed to say no. I was just Heero's friend, just some dumb kid that he had met and had taken home one day, like a lost puppy. I was no one special. How could I share their home when I didn't belong there? But... but I couldn't do it. I couldn't hand that key back at him. It wasn't just because that would be rude. There was something in me, something in my heart that couldn't let go of that key. It clung desperately to what he was offering. It recognized this gesture as this incredibly rare and beautiful thing, something that someone like me could never hope for.

That was dangerous. That kind of feeling didn't belong in me, that hope. Have you ever wanted something so badly, you feel like if you don't get it, you'll break? And have you ever known that it's something that you should never have? It hurts. Just the act of wanting it, let alone just getting it, hurts so badly. But you can't turn away from it. When you finally get it, you can't let go of it, even if you know that you should. Even if you know that you don't deserve it.

"I promise," I whispered and clutched the key so tightly in my hand that it's serrated edges cut into my skin.
　

End Part 5
Author's note: Writing this part kind of sucked me into this literary black hole that wouldn't release me until it had had it's way with me 0_o I started to write this the day that I uploaded part 4 and got three pages into it, which is pretty typical for me. I tend to average 3-10 pages on the days that I try to get writing done. But yesterday, a writing vortex just consumed me and I ended up writing off and on all day. Somehow, I managed to spew out another twenty pages that day and completed this part today. So, if there are any errors in this part, blame my muse, who apparently decided to kick my ass yesterday. *dies a little*
In all seriousness, I must reiterate that this chapter is going to be quite long and, while it is not as horribly dark as the fifth chapter was, it's a bit somber. Also, Duo's little rant about forgiveness is going to be explained in the next part. I was expecting to get to that in this part, but things ran on a bit long.

　
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A Stagnation of Love (rewrite)