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The Road to Kindness	By : shinigamiinochi Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 7934 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 38
- 39
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The Road to Kindness

Chapter 8
Author�s Notes: Sorry for the wait. This part, originally, was twice as long as this, but when I hit sixty pages, I realized I really needed to break it up, so there�s a nice little break in here. I should be done with part 8 in a matter of days, it�s just slow going right now.
Loverofyaoi: ok, so I read that review and almost fell off my chair laughing. Didn�t you know that all psychopathic rapists are closeted ninjas? ^_^
Djargo: Yep, that�s me, throwing curve balls at people with Noventa, also known as �left over antagonist 5 slash B�. I wanted him to come back and this was the perfect place for him. As for the kidnapping itself, as you�re going to see in this part and part 8, Duo�s biggest challenge isn�t getting away, but finally making a choice about Wes and his feelings about him. As usual, you flatter me ^.^
Winnie: Will Duo survive this encounter and finally get some justice for all the pain Wes gave him, or will Wes get the final laugh? Welcome to Chapter 8, or the �family drama� chapter.
I also want to thank pikeebo, babydex, rebekah5220, and Freddie Freeloader for their reviews as well as apologize to everyone who sent me reviews and pm�s saying that I broke their hearts with the cliffhanger. Sorry.
　

Part 7
　

Heero felt like he had somehow fallen into the Twilight Zone, that silly, old black and white television show that Duo and Trowa liked to watch every now and then, or perhaps a wormhole leading to his life ten years ago. Despite how late it had been, and their agreement to meet for breakfast in the morning, one thing had led to another and, somehow, Heero and his mother had ended up meeting both his grandparents for dinner that night at seven o�clock after Heero and Name had checked in to their hotel. They had gotten back to the hotel around six thirty, too early to call home and see if Duo was ok, so by the time they had gotten to the restaurant, he had been itching to make the phone call, but had forgotten all about it when his grandmother and grandfather had shown up at their table.

Heero hadn�t seen his grandmother for a very long time, even longer than his grandfather, but she hadn�t changed very much. Kane was ten years younger than Hiroto and, before Heero�s time, his other relatives had slung a lot of insults around about her behind Hiroto�s back about her being a trophy wife. On the outside, Kane had been that; beautiful, quiet, and well-versed in all the things that typical, Japanese house wives were expected to know, how to cook and sew and make tea. Heero�s grandmother was also the only woman he had known when they had been living in Tokyo who had worn a kimono every day and not just on special occasions. His mother had long ago explained to him that his grandmother came from a very old-fashioned, rural village, but she had shown up to the restaurant in an expensive dinner dress in the current European style, and she had never seemed bothered about moving to the west.

Even if people assumed that his grandmother was just a pretty housewife, Heero knew that she was anything but a trophy wife. He didn�t know much about his grandfather�s first wife, his mother�s mother, since Name had been so young when she had died, but he did know that his grandfather wasn�t the kind of man to just marry a woman because it was his duty. If Hiroto had wanted a trophy wife, he could have married a beautiful heiress more than half his age with good social standing or something like that. Instead, he had married a woman who, though younger, had not been like the barely out of high school girls that other rich men had taken as wives, from some poor little town in the mountains, who had already had a son older than Hiroto�s own daughter.

Most of their relatives hadn�t been able to understand why Hiroto had married Kane, but Heero could see it. Hiroto was stubborn and forceful, like the waves that Name was named after, while Kane was patient and quiet. They reminded Heero of his own parents. His mother could be just as stubborn as her father and he knew that he had the same kind of personality, but his father had always been patient, had always been able to find ways to find the solution to a problem, to change his mind, without compromising anyone�s feelings. Always calm and kind to his mother�s uncompromising ideals and forceful attitude, like the moon and the sea, so different, but they worked together in complete sync. Just like Hiroto and Kane. Just like Duo and himself.

That was who his grandmother reminded him of, his best friend. Duo was just as kind and quiet, so people thought that they could walk all over him, that he and Heero were so incompatible. They assumed that Heero�s personality overwhelmed Duo�s, that he just bossed him around, but that wasn�t true at all. Duo could be just as passionate as him, especially when it concerned the people he loved. Besides, his softer personality helped temper Heero�s. If it weren�t for Duo, Heero would still be in that bitter place he had been after his father had died. It hadn�t been someone with a stronger, more stubborn personality that had made him see what an ass he had been, just someone who could understand him, someone with the patience to listen and help him be better. Kane might not be as young and beautiful and rich as those other girls, but she was perfect for Hiroto. Nothing like her son, not even a little. Mizu must have gotten his nasty personality from his nameless father.

Heero�s grandmother hadn�t changed much at all from the last time he had seen her. Time had been just as kind to her as his grandfather, leaving very few wrinkles on her face, her dark brown eyes just as bright and intelligent as they had always been. Kane still kept her hair long, wrapped in a braid that reminded Heero of his American friend with a pang of longing, but hers was in a fancier style, and it was much shorter, only to her chest. Her black hair had some gray streaks in it, but not many. There was a deep blue flower in her hair over her left ear that matched her dress that Heero was sure his grandfather had bought for her. For some reason, that little detail warmed him. An image entered his mind, seeing that flower.

He saw himself combing Duo�s long, beautiful chestnut hair and braiding it for him, each and every morning. He could feel the silken strands as he threaded his fingers through them in his mind, could smell the shampoo that Duo used. The image made something hot flare in his heart, something wonderful and intense and painful. That heat made his cock stir, just a tiny bit, but enough to make him feel self-conscious and embarrassed as his grandfather hugged him. He was sure that his mother�s father didn�t realize that the thought had aroused him a little bit, in a way that was so much more than simply sexual, but he still blushed a little.

Just like with his grandfather, Heero felt anxious in seeing his grandmother again, but kind of desperate, too. There had been a time, back before and when his father had just died, when he had seen his grandparents all the time. They had been his babysitters, even though his grandfather had always seemed so busy. And when his father had passed, they had moved in with them. When his mother had been on the verge of an emotional breakdown, too overwhelmed to deal with giving Heero the attention he had needed, his grandmother had been there, doing the housework, helping Heero with his homework, and cooking for all of them. She had always been so affectionate towards him, even though he was only her grandson through marriage. She treated him like any grandmother would, just like she treated his mother like she was her own daughter. When he had been with his grandparents, Heero had always had this sense of family, especially after his father�s death and finding himself back with them, he realized more than he ever had just how lonely he had been. Heero loved his mother, even when they were butting heads, he found it hard to do anything that he knew would hurt her. That comment he had thrown at her the day she had told him she was moving him to America had burned, the very second it had left him because he knew that bringing up his father�s death had been so� inappropriate and painful and selfish. He hated himself shortly after saying it, even though he had still been pissed at her.

But, as much as he loved his mother, just living together with the two of them had made him lonely for those times when it had been him, his mom, and his grandparents, the reminder that he had family, that he belonged to, not only a large extended family, but one that had a lot of history. Seeing his grandparents together for the first time in years, Heero could really understand why Duo was so touchy talking about how he felt about finding his own family, the bitterness and anger he felt for growing up alone, for not having any adult or loving family member to protect him from the Wes� of the world. It felt hollow, not having that support and sometimes you didn�t even realize how much you missed it, how much you needed it. If Duo�s family ever found him, would he suddenly realize that he actually did want them in his life? Would he leave them for his real family?

Heero looked down at his food, suddenly feeling pensive. What difference did it make, he thought bitterly. Duo�s family had been absent for at least ten years of Duo�s life, if they really loved him, they would have contacted him by now. Both of their pictures had been in the newspaper, along with articles about Heero and Name moving to Maine. Even though the name of the town had never been printed, it couldn�t be that hard for anyone to find them, and by extension, Duo. Heero didn�t know what thought made him more bitter, that one day Duo might decide to leave, or that no one had ever come looking for him. When his father had died, Heero had felt abandoned, like his father had betrayed him and that meant he was alone. Now, he realized how childish and ignorant those feelings had been. His father had died, but Heero had always had his mother. Even if she had died as well, as painful as that thought was, there was still his grandparents and other relatives.

No matter what happened in Heero�s life, he would always have a home. That was a very simple fact. With his family�s wealth and reputation, he would never really be alone. Duo�s family, for whatever reason, hadn�t just died or vanished. He had been left without parents, without a home, a sparse roof over his head. Hell, he hadn�t even been left with a name, some link to how he had come into the world. Duo was the one that had been truly abandoned and Heero saw now that he had never had the right to those feelings. He had been selfish, lashing out at others because of his pain while there were kids like Duo in the world that had lost so much more. It didn�t devalue his own pain, like Duo had said, but it didn�t give him the right to use it as an excuse to make other people suffer.

Duo had told him once that, in those days when Wes had chained him up and refused to let him out that room for quite some time, he had been desperate for escape, for something to take him away from all that darkness. Falling back into his mind, Duo could have picked any place at all to escape to. The most comforting heaven, things that he desperately craved but couldn�t hope to have, the things that made him the happiest. He could have dreamt that he had been born with a family, people who loved him, that he was rich and secure. He could have dreamt of a life without Wes and poverty in it. Instead, Duo had dreamt of their house. Not how he wished that it looked, but how it actually did look. If you asked anyone to dream of the one place they wanted to go to escape pain, even if it didn�t really exist, they would usually dream of someplace that only existed in their minds. Duo had dreamt of reality, of a home that he wanted, one he wanted so badly because he had been there, had felt its warmth, and had cruelly been forced to leave.

Places that were real would always be more powerful than what people could imagine, but what person could claim that their heaven, the place they desired, the place they felt the happiest, actually existed in reality, a place they could visit within walking distance? There was just something so� so sad, knowing that Duo had spent those nightmarish days dreaming of returning to their house, of living there. What made it sad was that it was such a simple wish, one they had easily granted, but at the time, Duo had labeled it as a dream, something that was impossible. And when he talked about meeting his family, he never had any curiosity in his tone, no yearning , just anger. An anger that seemed so out of character for the violet eyed boy. Heero didn�t think that he had to worry about Duo leaving them. Even if he, himself, had missed his own family, he knew he couldn�t put Duo in his place and expect the same thing.

As hollow as Duo probably felt not even knowing who his parents were or had been, Heero didn�t think that he would have some big, cathartic moment if he did meet them. Even if it hadn�t been there fault, could anyone really expect Duo to welcome them into his life without feelings of bitterness and frustration? What could they give him that Heero and his mother hadn�t? They had done more for him than his missing parents ever had, so there really wasn�t any reason for him to be worried, was there? And yet, when his grandmother had hugged him and called him �Chobi� in the way that she always did, instead of being cold to him or chastising him for his past behavior, Heero had been filled with relief, but also sadness, knowing that Duo would probably never have this kind of relationship, this sense of history outside of Name.

Heero nearly chuckled as he took another bite of his steak, thinking about the endless amusement Duo would have gotten if Heero had dared to explain the endearment �chobi� to him, that it meant �little� because, when Heero had been born, he had been the smallest baby in the entire family. Of course, when he had hit puberty, he had sprouted up taller than any of the other Yuy men at that age, thanks to his father�s Russian genetics. According to his mother, his great-grandfather had always been against marriage with individuals who weren�t full-blooded Japanese, which wasn�t easy these days, but Heero certainly wasn�t complaining. In return for breaking the cardinal rule of the Yuy family, Heero had gained his father�s eyes and above average height, not a bad deal at all.

So, while the nickname had always annoyed Heero because it stopped being accurate around age thirteen, it was as comforting to hear as his mother calling his grandmother �haha-san� (1) or Kane calling his mom �Nana-chan�. Heero was pretty sure that no one had referred to his mother as �chan� since she had been a little girl. He could easily imagine Trowa gleefully, and cruelly Heero thought, informing Duo of this nickname and Duo giving out that cute little laugh of his, the one that was rare because of all those years living in darkness, being hit for making such a noise, but beautiful when it came out. It was kind of irritating, loving that sound, because he couldn�t retaliate against Duo being amused by his grandmother�s endearment. He would have to take it out on Trowa, which wasn�t so hard since it would be his damn fault anyway. Just because the Italian had always been taller than him, even when they had been kids�

Heero took a quick sip of his coffee as his mother chatted with his grandmother about her feelings on moving to London. He was still reeling in the relief he had felt at her earnest hug. He had come to England wanting nothing more than to get back home to America, but now that he was here, he was feeling hesitant about leaving. If Duo had come with them, it would have been a real struggle for him. He had missed his grandparents and he was glad that they had gotten the chance to be together like this, even though he was missing Duo like a hot iron had pierced his heart. From the second they had left his grandfather�s office, all Heero had thought about were all things Duo would have loved about London. Not the traffic or the noise or all the people bustling about, but the landmarks and shops and the park that was next to the YC building.

Duo would have liked this restaurant, too. It was a five star place, catering to the YC workers, the building just a few blocks away. It was expensive, a place that you couldn�t even find in Maine, let alone afford to eat at, but it was simple and elegant. The food was damn good, too, and the second the staff had realized who they were, instead of being constantly bothered and schmoozed, they had been left alone once their meals had arrived. There was some nameless piece of classical music playing and the restaurant overlooked the Thames River. With the moonlight shining off the water, it was quite beautiful. It had been quite some time since Heero had eaten at a place like this.

He had gotten used to the restaurants back in America. None of them had been as classy as this one, but he had liked them. Before they had moved, Heero had seen such places as trashy, used to being waited on when he went out to eat, but he had quickly learned that they weren�t worse, just different. Duo had taught him that a six dollar burger could be just as delicious as a fifty dollar steak, it just mattered how you cooked it. Heero had learned to love going out to eat with Duo. They never went anywhere fancy, but Heero had always had fun. Honestly, he didn�t know what he preferred more, the intimacy and convenience, or the class and atmosphere of a place like this. It wasn�t just being waited on, it was the familiarity of this place, and knowing that they were getting the best.

But Heero couldn�t deny that he had changed. This might be the way he had grown up, eating out at places like this, having waiting staff treat you like royalty, but it didn�t make it better than the life he had been living with Quatre, Trowa, and Duo. Why couldn�t he find a middle ground between the past and the present? Some place where he could sit and eat while looking out at a moon-lit river, but also where Duo would be treated with respect, even though he wasn�t from the upper class? He wanted to be able to give Duo this kind of treatment, but without sacrificing anything, including Duo�s comfort level.

They had been sitting in the restaurant for two hours now, just talking and eating slowly, enjoying each other�s company, when Heero felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. Normally, he would have switched it off or put it on silent since they were at a restaurant, but he didn�t care where they were or what they were doing. As long as he was away from Duo, he was keeping the phone on. He really should have called home, just to check in, as soon as they had gotten here, but he had gotten distracted by talking to his grandmother. Name stopped talking as Heero flipped open his phone and saw that it the call was coming from Quatre�s cell phone. He didn�t know why, but his stomach suddenly felt tight. Heero immediately chastised himself. It was nine o�clock here, which meant that it was four o�clock there. Maybe they had all decided to get a pizza or something and Duo was just using Quatre�s phone to check in.
�But why would he do that?� a rebellious voice in his head pointed out, �If they�re at home, it would the home number, and they aren�t, wouldn�t Duo still be calling from his own cell phone?�

�Maybe there�s something wrong with his phone,� Heero shot back stubbornly, �Maybe he forgot to charge it or he dropped it or maybe he left it at the house and just remembered to call when they left.�

�Hello?� he asked, trepidation making him suddenly feel anxious and sick.

�Heero?�

When it was Quatre�s voice coming through the phone and not Duo�s, Heero felt his stomach drop even further. It didn�t mean anything, he thought, maybe Duo was doing something, going to the bathroom or ordering the food and Quatre was the one who had remembered to check in with them�

�But then why does he sound like that? Why does he sound so anxious?�

Heero couldn�t think of a single thing to say to retort that question.

�Has Duo called you?� Quatre asked, his voice sounding as tight as Heero�s stomach felt.

�What? What do you mean has he called me? Isn�t he with you?!� Heero demanded.

�Well�� Quatre sounded hesitant and fearful as he started to ramble, �The thing is, it was Trowa and mine�s anniversary tonight. We were going to cancel our plans, but Duo didn�t want us to. We�re at dinner right now, but he still hasn�t called and he said he would-,�

�Where. Is. Duo?!� Heero snapped, fear and anger filling him.

�He� he went home by himself�� the blonde�s voice was small, almost impossible to hear, like he was about to cry.

�WHAT?!� Heero screamed into the phone.

Name looked at her son in bewilderment and concern while her parents just seemed very confused by his sudden fury.

�What the hell do you mean he went home alone?! What part of �do not let him out of your sight� do you NOT understand?! How can you two be so fucking irresponsible when you know what�s at stake?!� Heero raged.

On the other end of the line, he could hear strange noises; soft murmurs and whimpering.

�Heero,� Trowa�s voice replaced Quatre�s, much calmer than his boyfriend�s, but still anxious and worried, �I know you�re concerned, but screaming and making my boyfriend cry is not helping. Now, has Duo called you?�

�No,� Heero growled, �I haven�t heard from any of you until now! What the hell is going on, Trowa?! You promised me you would look after him, and now you�ve lost him?!�

�We don�t know that,� Trowa argued, �I know how stupid all this sounds, but Duo wanted to do this. He didn�t want to be responsible for us canceling our anniversary plans and he told me he wasn�t going to actually walk back to the house. There�s that bus stop near the school that runs by our street. He was going to be safe, Heero. There are dozens of kids at our school that take that bus. But, more than that, Duo really wanted to do this. You know how his mind works, how his self-esteem has been suffering ever since Wes attacked us. He thinks that he�s put all of us in danger and he hates himself for it. You remember what he was like right after, how he was terrified of even leaving the house. He wanted to do this, to prove to himself and all of us that he could. It was important to him. Do you really think I could have told him no? Do you think I should have?�

Heero found that there was nothing he could say about that. The part of him that was frantic and terrified wanted to scream at Trowa that those were just excuses, that he had let Duo walk home just so he could go on a date with his boyfriend, but even in his anxious state knew how petty that sounded. And it wasn�t true. Trowa cared about Duo just as much as they all did and Heero knew he wouldn�t have let Duo do this unless there had been a good reason for it. He ran a shaking hand through his hair. This couldn�t be happening, it just� it just couldn�t! Trowa had promised it wouldn�t� after everything that had happened, trying to save Duo and Wufei from Wes in the woods and reconciling with him after all that time pushing each other away, there was no way in hell Heero was losing him again.

�I�m sure he�s fine,� Trowa tried to calm his friend, �He said he was going to just veg out and watch tv when he got home. He probably just forgot to call.�

Heero�s free hand continued to shake as it curled into a fist on his lap. He felt like he was going to throw up, like he was having a panic attack. This wasn�t happening� not when he was across the damn ocean, so far away�

�Heero, I�m so sorry,� Trowa tried to apologize.

�We�re going home,� the Japanese boy interrupted and hung up on him.

Even if Duo was home, they were going. Heero couldn�t handle this fear anymore.

�What�s going on?� Name asked as Heero quickly dialed their home phone number.

�Not now,� he snapped tersely as he tried to listen.

�Please, please answer.�

Ring. Ring. Ring

�Please be ok��

Ring. Ring. Ring�

Heero hung up the phone with a shuddering breath as he heard the answering machine pick up.

�He isn�t there,� he murmured, his voice cracking.

Duo wasn�t there. He wasn�t home. He wasn�t where he was safe. No matter what Duo was doing, he would have heard the phone. He knew how important it was to answer it, to remember to call them. Even if he had been in the shower, and Heero seriously doubted that at four in afternoon, he could hear the phone and, knowing Duo, would run out even with soap in his hair. If he didn�t answer, then he wasn�t home. He wasn�t with Trowa or Quatre, probably wasn�t with Wufei. He would have told Trowa if he was with Wufei. Duo would have called Trowa and Quatre when he had promised he would, if he was even able to answer his cell phone�

Heero�s stomach churned and he felt something inside of him tremble. If Duo was unable to answer his cell phone� that one thought was terrifying, that his best friend was somewhere, in some situation where he couldn�t even answer his phone made him, it made him feel literally feel sick to his stomach. He dialed Duo�s cell phone number in desperation and when it didn�t ring, but went straight to voice mail, he felt like he was going to scream. He flinched as his mother put her hand on his, her brown eyes soft with sadness.

�Something�s happened to Duo, hasn�t it?� she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

�He went home alone,� Heero whispered, forcing himself not to cry out of frustration, �but he�s not there!�

�Name, what is going on?� Hiroto interrupted.

Name shook her head, swallowing her trepidation. She could deal with it as soon as they got back home. She wanted to believe that there was some simple reason why Duo wasn�t answering his phone, that he was safe and they would laugh about it as soon as they got back, but she couldn�t help but think of all the road blocks life had thrown in Duo�s way, all the times that the worst had happened. She couldn�t afford to hope.

�I�m sorry, Dad, Heero and I have to go back to America. I can�t explain,� she said hurriedly, digging her credit card out of her purse, �I�ll pay for dinner and call you when we land, ok?�

How could she possibly explain what was going on to her father, that the boy she had taken in was being hunted down by the monster who had abused and raped him for eight years, and now he wasn�t picking up the phone? It was better if he didn�t know that. She wasn�t sure what he would do, if he would try to help or would be convinced that taking Duo in had been a huge mistake.

�No, don�t bother,� Hiroto said with a calm smile, �I invited you here, I�ll pay. Besides, Mizu certainly put you and Heero through enough stress.�

They got up and hugged each other.

�Just promise that if you need help, I�ll be the one you call,� Hiroto said, feeling Name nod against his shoulder.

�Of course, To-san,� she murmured.

Heero hugged his grandmother goodbye, knowing that he should feel bad about leaving them so abruptly, without even explaining why they were in such a hurry, but he couldn�t think of anything, let alone feel anything but rabid anxiety, his mind filled with a heavy, blank buzzing.

�Have a safe flight,� Kane said with a soft smile, though Heero could tell how curious she was about why he had been screaming into the phone.

Heero caught a glimpse of her braid which she had thrown over shoulder, dangling down over her breast. A sharp pang struck his heart and as he and his mother left the restaurant to hail a cab, it was a struggle not to run. At nine at night, all by themselves on the street corner, it was easy for Name to get a cab�s attention.

�Start from the beginning,� she ordered as they sat down, �What is going on?�

�Trowa and Quatre let Duo go home alone,� Heero growled, his fear making his anger rise, �He promised he would call them as soon as he got home, but he never did. He isn�t answering the home phone and his cell phone goes straight to voice mail.�

��K�so,� Name swore under her breath, taking her phone out of her purse, �I�ll have the GPS on his phone activated. They should have it on before we get to the plane.�

�If he even has it on him,� Heero said bitterly.

�And if it�s on,� he thought, remembering with a heavy heart the agony Duo had put himself through in Boston trying to get to the phone and turning it on, only for them to discover that he hadn�t had enough service to make a call. That hellish moment, watching Duo stumble across the room, only to fall into his lap, bleeding everywhere and as pale as a ghost from the pain and exertion of it all. And then, realizing later that that one act had saved their lives� All those things had been by chance, Duo getting control over his body in time to have the strength and will of mind to try to do that, his mother putting a GPS on the phone, the GPS actually working despite the lack of service� Duo had survived that experience by the skin of his teeth. He could have easily died from blood loss and shock by the time they had been found. The likelihood that those same circumstances would play out again and they would be able to find him seemed so infinitesimal.

�Heero, we�ll find him,� Name promised, holding his hand tightly in hers.

Heero didn�t say anything, just kept staring out into space, looking like a thirsty man in a desert, desperately trying to find water before he died. Even just sitting in the cab, Heero could feel his heart beating like a tribal drum, loud and fast, his expensive dinner sitting in his stomach like a ball of lead. Nothing anyone said would comfort him, only seeing Duo�s smiling face, happy and safe, would.
*****
Back in the restaurant, Hiroto gave the waiter his card and sipped at his tea as he waited for him to return. In a half-sip, he noticed his wife giving him an amused stare and put his tea down, raising an eyebrow at her.

�The Hiroto I know would have grilled the both of them until he learned the truth,� Kane said with a cheeky smile.

�Oh, I�m getting the truth,� Hiroto vowed, resting his chin on his finger-laced hands, �Something strange is going on here. Name has always been truthful and straight-forward with me. She takes in some American boy and now she�s keeping secrets from me. I want to know what could be so bad to have my only grandson screaming and swearing at the only friend he�s ever had, looking like he�s about to cry. I may have not seen Heero in awhile, and he might have changed since the last time I saw him, but I do know that he hasn�t cried or looked so lost since his father�s death. I know it has something to do with that boy and I will find out what is going on, and if Name eventually won�t tell me, I�ll find out on my own,� his serious expression dissolved into a smirk, �I�m just getting patient in my old age.�
*****

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. No� no, it was more than just one thing. Many things were wrong� or rather, everything was wrong. He wasn�t laying down, but he was just waking up. His wrists shouldn�t hurt. His head shouldn�t hurt. He couldn�t move his arms, but he could move his legs� he didn�t understand. And the smell� a terrible smell, but a familiar one. When he tried to crack his eyes open, everything was blurry, but it was bright. Too bright to be morning or nighttime. That smell� what was it? There was something important prickling in the back of his mind, something that told him he needed to know what that smell was.

It finally came to him. Cigarettes. He was smelling cigarettes, strong and fresh, so very near him. He hated that smell, had always hated it because he smoke cigarettes. That smell of burning leaves, invading his lungs. But it wasn�t just the cigarettes. There was something else. Every smell, every little thing that he couldn�t put a name to, but it was familiar. He wasn�t in his room, but he knew this place. It was too familiar�

Duo�s eyes shot open, no longer caring about his headache. He knew this place, and he needed to get out of here, now. He was sitting on a linoleum floor, his legs tucked under his body. His denim jacket had been removed, leaving him only in his white t-shirt with the dark blue, stenciled outline of a dragon on the front. His arms were raised above him, not stretched above, but bent and dangling from a pair of handcuffs. He knew where he was. He knew this linoleum floor, all cheap, off-white tiles. He knew the table he was handcuffed to. It was the same one in Wes� kitchen, old, made of light brown wood, the top a large circle with three legs connecting the top to the thick, main leg, like a reverse tripod. He was handcuffed to one of those three legs, sitting under the table like he was a pet dog or cat.

He knew these handcuffs, too. Unless Wes had bought new ones, they would be silver with a large scratch on the right cuff. They weren�t toy cuffs, or even the ones you could buy at an adult toy shop. They were police issue and needed a key to open, made of heavy metal. He knew, from experience, that no matter how hard he pulled or smashed them against things, they wouldn�t break. He also knew that, though the table was old, it was well made and wouldn�t break. Still, as the familiar smell of cigarettes and Chinese food came to him, he thrashed violently, pulling at his restraints with a keening whine, sounding like the trapped animal that he was. He couldn�t be here! Not here, not again, not ever again�. The apartment� he was home. After all this time� he was back home.

�Stop fidgeting!� he heard Wes bark at him, then the blond kicked him hard in the ribs.

Duo choked, feeling the familiar sensation of sharp pain, as familiar as that smell of the cigarettes that Wes had always loved to smoke. The kick hadn�t been strong enough to crack or break his ribs, but the pain was white-hot and he knew that the bruise would be black. He stopped thrashing and simply hung by the handcuffs, an indescribable, heavy, choking feeling, like a weight, settling in his heart. He didn�t know how long he had been out, but his arms ached, especially his wrists, which were probably raw and red.

He felt as though he had walked through the waking world and into a nightmare, a separate reality. He couldn�t be here. It had to be a dream. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He�d say that it was because he didn�t want to give Wes the satisfaction to see him cry, but crying had always pissed the man off. No, he refused to cry because he knew that the second he surrendered to it, he wasn�t going to stop unless Wes hit him. That feeling of being trapped in his worst nightmare made him want to pull at his hands until he ripped them off. Not that that would help. This place was a cage, specially designed for him. The last time he had tried to escape from here, he had failed in the worst way.

Last time, Wes had dragged him back and he had done that again, now. He had only been freed because Wes had let him. If Heero hadn�t found him, there would have been only three outcomes: death by sickness and pain, death by Chris, or the bed, the one with chains in the darkness. Sitting on the same kitchen floor he had walked across that day months ago, it suddenly felt like he had never left at all. Heero and Name were pleasant dreams, lies he had created out of loneliness and despair. A tear escaped his left eye and he gritted his teeth, trying to keep the rest at bay. He had almost died getting out of this prison the last time, had not even been aware when he had left that he would be escaping. How could he possible escape a second time?

Duo looked up at what little he could see of Wes, who was sitting in one of the chairs at the table, through tear-blurry eyes. What was he doing? He finally had him exactly where he wanted him, so why wasn�t he doing anything? Duo leaned forward as far as his handcuffs would let him until he could see some of the top of the table. Wes had gone through his book bag, papers, books, his jacket, pencils, his ruler, and his calculator were all thrown on the table and had been rifled through. He could just barely see his cell phone next to Wes� right hand, way too far away for him to get at it, even if he had more room to move his hands. Wes wasn�t stupid, nor was he nearly as arrogant to the point of near stupidity like Chris.

The thought of Wes going through all his things, his book bag and his pockets, rankled. Those things were his and the blonde man had no right to touch his stuff! He could understand taking his cell phone and tazer, but there was no reason for him to go through his school stuff! That thought was enough to shock him out of his paralysis. Heero and Name weren�t dreams. This place might be a cage, but he didn�t belong here! His other life wasn�t a dream, because he had changed. He wasn�t the same person that Wes had made, he was something different. When he had been living here, he had accepted that he had nothing. All the things that were his had been Wes. His clothes, his money, his school books, his hair brush, his body. All of it had really belonged to Wes and he had never really questioned that. But now, those things were his. They had always been his! He had just been� been too timid and cowed to believe that.

He had let Wes control every aspect of his life. Even if he wasn�t there when he went to school, he could only go if Wes let him. He had grown past that. Name had given him things, with her own money, but had called them his. That had meant so much to him. And now, he was back here and he realized that he had changed. But Wes, he hadn�t. He was exactly the same. To Wes, Duo�s stuff still belonged to him, Duo still belonged to him, and that concept was enough to make Duo insane. What was the point of getting better if the monsters of his past couldn�t even acknowledge it? At the very least, Wes owed him that. He owed him the realization that his little slave wasn�t going to bow to him, wasn�t going to behave. But was that really true? The second Wes came back into his life, the second that he ordered him to do something, Duo did it. In a way, it was as though nothing had changed at all, at the same time that everything had. Because he didn�t see the world the same way he had anymore. He never would see the world the same way as he had, even if he was still having a hard time moving on from his past.

Being here, now, with the same man that he had lived with for eight years of his life was strange. It was comforting and terrible. Familiar and bizarre. It was like coming back home after spending years in a different country, you knew all the streets and faces around you, but they weren�t exactly the same and that difference made everything seem alien. Your father looked exactly the same, but those years apart made you see him in a different way. For the first time, you noticed the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. You realized that he was old and just that tiny realization changed everything. Only this wasn�t his home and Wes wasn�t his father. Not anymore.

Or� was it? He had lived in this apartment for almost a decade. He had grown up here. Had done his homework in the second bedroom. His blood stained the carpet in every room in this place, even the bathroom rug. Every nook and cranny was filled with his memories. Yes, most of them were bad, but not all of them. He had had his first taste of chocolate in this kitchen. He had opened up his first report card in his bedroom. Two B�s and three A�s, with a little note that he was on the honor roll. In Wes� bedroom, Wes had taught him how to get dressed in different clothes. For the first time, Duo had had clothes that hadn�t consisted of a ratty, slip-on shirt and pants that just had a elastic waistband. Wes had taught him how to tie his shoes, button his shirts, and zip up his jeans. Of course, he had also had to learn how to wear things like butt plugs and short skirts, but the other things were terrible memories. They would have been normal if Wes hadn�t slapped him every time he had missed a buttonhole.

Compared to Name, Wes had been far from ideal as a parent, but he was the only father Duo had ever known. He had hit and raped and made him feel like worthless trash, like the entire world would be better off if Duo stuck a gun in his mouth and blew his brains out, that the only way anyone could ever show him an ounce of affection was if he was a good fuck. But� there were other things, too. When Duo had finally perfected blow jobs, Wes had patted the top of his head. No one had ever patted his head before and it had felt good, though Duo hadn�t understood why at the time. When he had gotten the flu, Wes had bought him a bottle of cough syrup. He had claimed that he couldn�t take the sound of Duo�s coughing anymore, but he had gone out of his way to go to the only pharmacy in town that had strawberry-flavored cough syrup, because Duo hated the cherry kind. He had even measured out the right dosage in that dumb little cup for him.

�I love you.�
Duo nearly bit his tongue at that memory. And then there had been� that. Why the hell had Wes said that? Why couldn't he have just kept silent about that? If he hadn't said that, especially at that moment... After all those days, laying there on that bed, believing, truly, honestly believing that he would die in that darkness, all alone, forgotten by the boy he loved, just another dead rat in the gutter, that he would never see the sun again, that he had lived his life without any kind of purpose, without feeling any kind of love, that thing that everyone else harped about, but that he had only just started to see a glimmer of before Zechs' cruel prank had stripped it all away.

He had believed all those things, that he had been approaching the end of his life, and just hoping that it would come soon, so he wouldn't have to spend another week in that bed, that he wouldn't have to live without Heero, that he could hide away from the shame and worthless depression that he felt... then, Wes had let him go. He had freed him, had given him the chance to see the sun again. Even more importantly, Wes had given him his friends back. He had been able to see Solo and Shi and some part of himself that had been rotting in those weeks in the dark had started to come alive again, just by seeing someone who didn't want to fuck him, who just cared about him and wanted to make sure that he was ok. Wes had given him that.

That one moment had been enough to fuck with his head, his tormentor, the monster being the one to give him that gift. He had always been conflicted about Wes, caught between hating him more than he had ever hated any other person, and defining his entire existence through him. But, when he had let him go, something had snapped inside of Duo, some sort of resolve, perhaps the only shred of pride he had ever had, though he believed it had been something else. He didn't think that, at that point in his life, he had had any pride left. He believed that, in that moment when Wes had let him go, he had finally decided that he was never going to run away. It had been at that moment that Wes' confession had really struck him. It had been at that moment when he had finally accepted that this was his life, his future, his destiny. He had never known, until that moment, that in his entire life, he had had some sliver of hope. Going to school, being with Solo and the others, he had had things that he had loved, had strived for. They had been little things, but though he had always thought of himself as a whore, as a piece of trash, somewhere deep down inside, he had always hoped that there was something more. If he got a good grade on a test, he would think that maybe he wasn't so useless after all. When Shi hugged him, he had thought that, one day, he might have a family. Even if he didn't have a mom or a dad, he had that group of seven friends, people who would look after him.

Then, Wes had said it. "I love you." The only words Duo had ever wanted to hear, for his entire life. Spoken, not by Heero or Name, not even Solo or Shi, but by his rapist. At first, when Wes had said it, Duo had been half out of his mind and desperate for some kind of comfort. After all the sex and the confinement, he had been desperate for any kind of affection thrown his way, but he hadn't been so far gone that he had believed him. Wes said all sorts of things, had made promises to him before, but in the end, Duo had always discovered the lie, had always realized that Wes said things like that to fuck with his mind, out of sheer pleasure. Then, with a single plea, Wes had let him go. Actions spoke louder than words, didn't they? Wes had had him exactly where he had wanted him. Letting him go had given Wes nothing, no benefit, no real advantage. He had said that he loved him, and when Duo had begged for freedom, Wes had given it to him. And now he wondered, sitting here on the kitchen floor, looking up at the man, if Wes had never said that, would his heart be so twisted up?

If Wes had just let him go, without confessing those feelings, would Duo feel so compelled to stay by him, feel so attached to him? Would he be able to see Wes as his father, as he saw him now, or would he have lived in denial, easily calling Wes his tormentor only? Or was the strange, bitter love he felt for the man have stayed in him, festering regardless of what Wes had told him? He had thought, not so long ago, that there was no way he could survive without him. Wes defined his humanity. Because of him, he was still alive, had shelter, had gotten an education. When you got right down to it, it was because of Wes that Duo was living with Heero and Name at all. Without him, what was he? Just a homeless kid with a fake name and a shadow of a life. Without Wes, he was unwanted. Wasn't that something everything desired, to be special and have that validated by another person? Wes had had his pick of hundreds of kids, but he had chosen him. The man had who knew how many whores of all sexes and ages, but Duo was the only one who lived with him. In Wes' eyes, even before he had told Duo that he loved him, Duo had been special.

Of course, he couldn't think that without also remembering that Heero and Name also believed that there was something good and special in him as well. Heero was handsome and came from a celebrity family. He had had his choice of anyone in the entire town to be his friend, and he had not only zoned in on him, but easily called him his best friend, someone who he felt even closer to than Quatre and Trowa, although he had known them for much longer. And Name constantly said that she had taken him in, not because he was her son's friend, but just because Duo had needed her. But there were dozens of kids like him in this town who needed her more. What made him so special? It confused him, that contrast and similarity between Name and Wes, between what he knew, in his mind, was what he should have, versus what he had accepted as family.

Even now, knowing the kind of danger that he was in, knowing how crazy Wes was and how worried Name was going to be when she found out that he was missing, Duo felt conflicted. His mind knew that he shouldn�t have any kind of attachment at all to Wes, that everything the man had done to him had broken him like he had been made of thin glass, while Name had built him back up into something strong and shining. The choice wasn�t any kind of choice at all, his logic told him. Name would give him a future, a life he could be proud of. All Wes wanted was to own him and pervert him back into the mindless zombie he had been before, just shuffling from sex to sex until he broke again, only this time, Duo was sure that nothing would be able to fix him. Sometimes, you only got one chance and he had already had his. If he chose Wes, if he went back to that life, he wouldn�t come back from it this time. And that terrified him.

But, although reason told him what he should do, that he should tell Wes to fuck off and do anything he could to escape, he couldn�t stop listening to his heart. There was a dark part of himself that didn�t want to let Wes go, that as scary and horrible it was to be back here, it was familiar and comforting, it was a part of who he was, so how could he possibly ignore that? He had known, without even opening his eyes, where he was. This place, and this man� they were in his blood, in his soul. That didn�t make it right and it certainly didn�t make it good, but he couldn�t rip it out of him. It was like a poison, a parasite that was in too deep. Wes had been the one to tell him that he loved him, but Duo had known, for awhile now, that he loved him, too. He had known, deep inside, but had tried to deny it, because that kind of dependency, so much like a betrayal, or an addiction, had always terrified him.

It had been his greatest fear, that one day he would find that he had become Wes, someone that had no attachments to anything bright and good, just a lot of shit, welcoming and being comforted by darkness. Wes killed without a thought, he beat people down like it was second nature to him, and Duo had no doubt that it was. He didn�t want to be like that, to just succumb to something that it was him, even though he knew that it was wrong, simply because he had accepted that it was his nature. Like the scorpion. He wanted� no, he needed to be better than that. That was why he had told Wufei that he was glad that he had been unable to kill Wes.

Duo continued to study the man that he had lived with for the past eight years, those dark thoughts and feelings polluting his heart. Everything about him was so achingly, annoyingly familiar; his power and height, those cold, grey eyes, the dirty blonde hair that wasn�t quite cut close to his scalp, but wasn�t all that long, either� It was then that he realized that the reason why Wes hadn�t tried to do anything to him yet was because he was reading something. Duo squinted, trying to read what it was, but could only tell that it was a single piece of folded up paper. He caught sight of a familiar, empty envelope and paled, realizing that it was his report card. Wes suddenly smirked, but Duo couldn�t tell if it was one of his sadistic ones, the ones he got before he did something really sick and nasty to him and felt off-balance by it. Hell, he felt off-balance by this entire situation.

�Honor roll, huh?� Wes mused, then glanced down at Duo, �I�m proud of you.�

That feeling came back again, the bitterness and territoriality, as well as a seething anger. Wes didn�t have the right to make any kind of comment about his grades! He hadn�t wanted him to go to school, had hated that he spent half the day there instead of doing his job. Wes hadn�t even allowed him to talk about his school life around him! If he had cared about his education at all, he would know that he had been on the honor roll every single year! Why the hell did he care now? And yet, hearing Wes say that he was proud of him, not for a good blow job or getting more money than Wes had negotiated, but for something that Duo actually thought mattered, made a strange, painful warmth blossom in his chest.

If Wes had said those things more often, �I love you,� �I�m proud of you� � even with the rapes and sex training, he didn�t think he ever would have tried to run away, because as terrible as being a whore had been for him, the worst had been the coldness, how uncaring Wes had been with him as a child. It seemed like such a little thing, being comforted, hearing someone say that they were proud of you, he had always thought that those things were worthless, that he could survive anything and that was all that mattered. Just continuing on, by yourself. Then, he had met Name and realized how powerful those �little� things were. Every time he was sad and hurt, Name was there holding him, stroking his hair, and telling him that everything was going to be alright. The mature part of him that was so used to things going wrong and being alone scoffed at that, but the child inside of him, the one that was stunted and hadn�t quite grown up believed her every time and somehow, that belief made the hurt better.

Name said that she was proud of him all the time. He had thought that the repetition of that would make the happiness he felt when she said that diminish, but it never had. When she said that, it always seemed to validate him. He would work hard to get better grades, to fight against his fears and insecurities, and if he succeeded, that was great, but it wasn�t until she said that she was proud of him that he truly felt confident about those successes. When he had been hurt and depressed, and had been looking for some comfort before he had met Name, Wes had either completely ignored him or punished him, then told him to stop being so pathetic, that he needed to grow up. When Name had hugged him, the hurt had gone away and he had felt� cleansed or something. With Wes, that hurt had been pushed down deep inside of him where it had festered and grown, turning into something truly dark and terrible, like a disease.

But yet, Wes hadn�t always ignored him. Sometimes, if Duo had been really sore or tired, he had given him a few hours off. After harsh wax play, or when a customer had whipped him too hard or cut him too much if they had been into blood, Wes would put lotion on his wounds, which had soothed him a little. When he had been younger, Wes had sometimes, wordlessly, tucked him in. They had all been tiny things, and never what Duo had really needed from him, but they had been more than what Wes had had to have done with him. He was pretty sure pimps didn�t wash their whores� backs for them because their arms were too sore from being tied up above their heads for five hours straight to reach. But he also knew that if he had skinned his knees around Name as a child, she would have swept him up into her arms and rocked him. She would have let him cry without hitting him, would have cared and comforted him. She would have given him what he had needed, what Wes, who claimed to love him, had always refused to do. Duo glared up at the man. He might be conflicted about what their relationship meant, but that didn�t mean he wasn�t bitter.

�The cops are going to find me eventually,� Duo snapped at him, �That guy in the car had to have seen you take me, he�s called the cops by now. And once Name finds out that I�m gone, she�ll tell them who you are, what you�ve done. There�s no way you�re going to get out of this, Wes.�

Wes stood quickly out of the chair and Duo flinched, tugging painfully on the handcuffs, thinking that he was going to get kicked again, or worse, but the blonde man just kneeled down in front of him, looking smug, and far too close for Duo�s comfort.

�You�ve been living with that bull bitch for too long,� Wes sneered, �You think that living with those stuck up shits made you privileged, too? You�ve forgotten. People don�t give a shit about each other. The only reason why the bitch took you in was to look good. Just another Yuy charity case, how cute, like a politician taking in a stray mutt. But sooner or later, they always have the mutt put down or take it back to the street, as soon as no one is looking. No cops are coming looking for you. Like I said, I took care of it. That man didn�t call anyone to help you and the bitch isn�t going to find you. That little Japanese brat made you forget how the world really works, I guess I�m going to have to re-teach you a lot of things.�

Wes reached up and grabbed Duo�s cell phone from the table, dangling it in front of Duo�s face. Duo looked at it like it was a lifeline. If only his hands were free, he could make sure it was on� if only he knew that it was on, then he knew that the GPS was working. Even if Wes turned it off or it ran out of power, the tracker would record the last place he was at and Name could track it. Wes caught the way that Duo was watching the cell phone desperately and his smirk widened. He stood back up and dropped the phone to the floor. Duo watched in horror, his face turning white as the grey eyed man crushed the phone under his boot, the display shattering and the device made a startling noise as it was destroyed. Duo felt his stomach tremble in disbelief, tears pricking his eyes. It was gone� the GPS� the only way he could contact his mom� there was nothing he could do now, except try to escape all on his own. He was alone.

�I�m not Chris,� Wes looked down at Duo, his grey eyes like cold stone, �I�m not stupid. I know how you escaped in Boston.�

Wes kneeled down again and was suddenly much closer than before. Duo flinched harshly as the man reached out and curled his fingers around his cheek, bringing their faces closer together. The metal cuffs bit into his wrists, drawing a tiny amount of blood.

�Not that I�m complaining,� the blonde murmured, �If the phone hadn�t been bugged, you�d be dead right now. When I told Chris not to kill you, I assumed he�d be smart enough to realize I wanted you alive, not that I just didn�t want him to do it. I suppose I owe the bitch, don�t I?� he looked Duo up and down slowly in a way that Duo was more than used to, and it made his insides squirm, �Not only did she get you out of there, she�s been taking real good care of you, hasn�t she? You look� good.�

Wes leaned in until their lips were just barely touching. Duo knew that if he darted his tongue out, he could taste the man�s salty skin. He could feel his warm breath washing over him and smell him. That smell was strangely intoxicating, not that it smelled good, but it made him tremble, his body incapable of deciding if he should be terrified or take this as something normal, something that had happened a thousand times before.

�I may owe her,� Wes said softly, �but you owe me. If I hadn�t called, Chris would have slit your prettily little throat.�

Wes� large hand traveled down his cheek to his neck. Duo felt his fingers trace the faint scar that went across his throat from when Chris had cut him, making Duo shiver. The touch was strange, it was light and barely there, so unlike Wes, but also clearly sexual.

�And we wouldn�t that, would we? You owe me a lot, kiddo, and you still dare to run away from me?�

Duo squeezed his eyes shut. He knew that. He knew that he owed Wes his life, but that didn�t mean that he had to just roll over for him. He owed Wes his life, but not his happiness, and certainly not his freedom. Still, fear overwhelmed him as he realized that he couldn�t bow to Wes. He might be conflicted, but not about this. He could either obey or fight back. When he saw Heero again, what would he tell him? That he did everything he was told because it was what he had always done, or that he had finally gotten some balls to become a human instead of a dog? Duo, though he felt like his entire body was shaking in terror, glared up at Wes, his violet eyes clashing with the blonde�s stony ones.

�I used to believe that,� he said with a strangely firm tone, �I�m not so sure anymore.�

Hadn�t Heero said that? He didn�t owe Wes his life. Wes had fucked up his life. According to Heero, he didn�t owe Wes shit, and that sat with him a lot better than Wes� belief that Duo owed him everything. Wes� expression darkened and Duo instantly knew that saying that had probably not been the smartest thing to do, but it had given him a sliver of much needed pride. It was even worse when Wes regained his smile. That was when Duo knew he wasn�t going to get out of this situation whole, no matter what he did.

�I�ve owned your ass since you were seven years old,� Wes said with a cruel smirk, �Do you really think that just because you ran off to play house with that blue-eyed mutt that that�s changed?�

Duo didn�t know why he said it, but before he could stop it, it slipped out. Maybe he was just pissed at being reminded of Wes� assumption that he was nothing more than a slave and should be grateful, or the reminder of how Wes had destroyed his childhood. Or maybe he was pissed at Wes� slur against Heero, but even as he opened his mouth, he knew he was screwed.

�Fuck you, Wes,� he snarled, then resumed to turning white as a sheet, realizing what he had just said.

Wes narrowed his eyes at the boy he had kidnapped, then reached up by Duo�s hands and slammed his fist into the bar holding the handcuffs up. The bar shattered and Duo gasped, partially in remember just how strong Wes was, partially in shock, and partially in pain and the bar smashed against his hands, leaving dark bruises and a few splinters imbedded in his wrists. He didn�t have the time to even realize that his hands were free of the bar before Wes grabbed the very short chain on the handcuffs and dragged Duo�s smaller body across the kitchen floor by his wrists.

�Let me go!� Duo yelled, thrashing as hard as he could as he was dragged into the hallway, his shirt pushed up as they hit carpet, the material leaving red marks on his pale back.

Wes didn�t seem fazed at all by Duo�s pitiful attempts to get free, his grip on the chain strong and steady, and continued to drag him. Duo kicked at the carpet, trying to get some kind of leverage, but he wasn�t even wearing shoes anymore and Wes was too strong, was dragging him too fast. He knew that screaming and fighting wasn�t going to do anything, he was going wherever Wes wanted him to go, but he couldn�t help it. He felt like a little bunny rabbit in a hunter�s trap and all he could do was thrash around and make noise. It was better than just accepting how powerless he was. Suddenly, Wes stopped dragging him as they reached the hallway closet that was next to Wes� room and Duo realized what he was going to do.

�No, no, no, no, no, no, no, not the dark, not the dark, please, please, not the dark!�

Wes opened the closet door and threw Duo inside. The longhaired boy cried out as his back hit the back wall of the small closet and he crumpled to the ground. He got to his feet as quickly as he could, but Wes was already closing the door. The sound of him locking it was chilling. There was no light in the closet, making Duo blind as he threw himself against the door, beating at it with his bound hands. He screamed wordlessly as the door didn�t even budge, continuing to pound against it. He couldn�t hear Wes outside. It was quiet, completely quiet. The closet was small, just seven to eight feet tall, not even five feet wide. If Duo could spread both his arms out, he could touch the sides, but in the dark, he felt out in the open, exposed, and lost.
Very, very lost.
　

End Part 7

　

　

(1) There are two ways of saying mother. The first, okaa-san, is used to refer to other people�s mothers and is a more formal way to address one�s own mother. Haha-san is kind of the equivalent of �Mom� instead of �Mother�. And once again with the suffixes: sama is the most respectful, san is like Mr., kun is used among boys who are friendly with each other, and chan is used as kind of a cutesy address and is mostly used among girls and children.
No resolution yet. Basically, for the next few parts, think of them like Chapter 5 redux. We will be bouncing back and forth between Heero and Duo again and the situation is kind of similar, just minus the Heero and Duo drama. Keep an eye out for updates on my live journal. There will be many, and I have no idea how long the next part is going to be since it is already at 31 pages, but I�m nearing the end of it.
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The Road to Kindness