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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.

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The Road to Kindness

Chapter 8

Part 14
Outside of the apartment, it was night. A cloudless, black sky with a million pinpricks of starlight greeted him, as well as a warm breeze that ruffled his loose hair. But Duo was senseless to all of it, even to the feeling of rocks and gravel scratching the bottoms of his feet, the way that the blood started to cool on his shirt and skin, and the feeling of the bloody knife slashing his fingers as he gripped it. His mind buzzed and his heart was like a tribal drum, spurring him further step by step. At some point, from the front door of the apartment to the main street, his adrenaline had abandoned him, leaving him a worn and empty shell.

His body wanted to lay down in a gutter somewhere and sleep. Perhaps even fade away into a coma, somewhere dark and silent where his thoughts, like buzzing bees creating indecipherable sound in his head, could not find him. Where his horror could not cling to him. His head wouldn't let him. Even as layer upon layer of terror and confusion and guilt filled him, some part of him led him, told him where all other noises and thoughts fell on deaf ears, where he needed to go. It was almost like that time before, when he had been half dead, and had found himself in Heero's room. But then, he hadn't remembered anything, had been in too much pain to really understand what he had been doing.

Now, there was no pain. Only what was in his head. He walked slowly, like he was sleepwalking. It was the most energy he could exert. He had never walked from Wes' apartment to his home before, but some instinctual part of him knew the way. He didn't even try to stay hidden, simply walking a set, determined path. At some point, a homeless man approached him from his left side, not seeing the knife or the blood on him. But he saw the flat, almost crazed look in Duo's eyes and quickly went away, like how an animal could smell insanity on a person or another animal. By some kind of miracle, there was no one else out in the middle of the night to see him, just the kind of people that had no desire to call the police and were quite content with ignoring the strange boy.

The walk seemed to take forever. And it seemed like it had taken no time at all. The sight of the white house, surrounded by rich and neatly cut grass almost had him sobbing right there on the street. But he couldn't. He couldn't stop. He was close... so close... Duo gripped the familiar knob with his free hand, leaving smears of blood on it. It wasn't locked and the security system was disarmed. He opened the door, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him. He could hear voices coming from deeper in the house, but they weren't the voices that he wanted, so he continued to walk.

He reached the steps and climbed them, each creek like a song you could remember from your childhood, a sound that was comforting and nostalgic. As he reached the top, he heard someone say his name in a shocked tone, but it didn't reach the high, or rather, very low place that his consciousness was. For a moment, he forget where he was. He forget when he was, and almost screamed out in pain, only his body remembering that he wasn't mortally injured anymore. As he saw Heero's bedroom, he walked faster, his heart starting to race again, but out of desire instead of fear. The door was open and the room was dark, but there was enough light to see where he was going. With a need so great, his stomach twisted and his head roared, Duo walked to the bed.

It was empty. Just like before, just like last time. Heero wasn't here. He needed him to be here, but he wasn't. He was all alone again.

Alone, in the dark. There's no one here. You're never going to see Heero again.
All the strength left him at once and Duo fell to his knees. Tears streamed down his face and he let them fall. He didn't know why he was crying, but an immense sadness filled him and it only made him cry harder.

"Duo?!"

He blinked, the word penetrating through his shock. It was the voice he wanted and some last bit of strength soared through him as Heero ran to him and fell on his knees next to him. Hands larger and darker than his own reached out, shaking almost as badly as his own were, and touched the sides of his face.

"Oh, my god," Heero breathed and his voice was a mix of fear and relief.

Duo felt frozen. A hundred things filled his throat, wanting to explode out, but the words were trapped there as he looked into wonderfully familiar blue eyes. Suddenly, those words, all the things that he wanted to scream, didn't matter. One of those hands covered his that was still gripping the knife. The heat coming from them seared into his cold skin.

"Hold on, hold on," Heero said frantically, "It's ok."

'Is it?'
He was scared. Heero was scared. Duo didn't know what to say. He knew, on some kind of level, that he had to say something to not make his best friend so scared anymore, but he couldn't think. He felt like he was melting away. It was like he had waited for this moment for so long and now that it had come, his entire self was shutting down. Tan fingers pried the knife from his slashed fingers and dropped it to the floor, sliding it under the bed where Duo wouldn't be able to reach it.

'It isn't my blood, don't worry, it isn't mine,' was what he needed to say, he suddenly realized, but the words just wouldn't come. Heero was breathing hard, frantically as he looked at Duo's blood soaked shirt. His shaking hands touched the blood on his shirt, prying at the cloth and lifting it up, searching his skin for some horrible wound.

Quatre ran into the room with Trowa right behind him.

"Heero?" he breathed, wanting to yell, but was finding it hard to speak more than a whisper.

"Go get the car started," Heero snapped at him, not even turning to look at him, Duo the only thing he could see, "My keys are on the kitchen counter!"

Quatre ran and Trowa disappeared somewhere. Heero didn't care. He couldn't find where the blood was coming from, and that should have alleviated his fears, since that much blood had to have come from a very noticeable wound, but it only frightened him further. And Duo was so pale... The longhaired boy suddenly leaned against him bonelessly, his slender, trembling hands gripping at Heero's shirt. Something in the Japanese boy snapped. He wrapped his arms around his friend and crushed him to his chest in a tight hug, crying into his shoulder. He felt so cold.

'I missed you,' Duo thought and suddenly knew that that was what he had to say. That was what had been on the tip of his tongue from the moment he had seen the house. He opened his mouth to say it, to try to make Heero understand why he had been so scared all this time, why he had had to come back here above anywhere else.
'What do you think he will say, exactly, when he finds out what you did? Will Heero still call you his best friend when he learns that you-'
Duo's throat spasmed and the words became strangled, soundless. His eyes widened in alarm and tried to speak again, this time just to tell Heero that he was fine. Nothing came out. It was like his throat and tongue had been shot up full of Novocain. He couldn't speak. It was too much for him, he was done. He wanted to scream that at the top of his lungs. He couldn't take anymore.

Heero tightened his grip around his friend as he fell limp in his arms. He felt around at his back for any wounds that might have caused him to pass out like that, but couldn't find anything. There were heavy black rings of tiredness under his eyes and he looked worn, like he had just come from a battlefield. Duo looked like he had lost some weight, Heero noted with pain. Trowa walked briskly back into the room, holding a blanket.

"Hurry, wrap him with this," he told Heero.

"I can't find where he's hurt," the blue-eyed boy said desperately, looking up at Trowa with a wide, scared expression, as though demanding the older boy to tell him what he was supposed to do.

"They'll figure that out at the hospital. You have to keep him warm, Heero, he's in shock," Trowa ordered.

Heero took the blanket from him and wrapped Duo in it, not liking how the boy stayed so still as he manhandled him. He was gentle and cradled him like he was made of finely crafted glass as Trowa led him out to his car. Quatre already had it started and out in the street, looking like he was about to have a panic attack. Normally, Heero refused to let anyone drive his car. Now, he just didn't care. It was probably just as well. He was in no shape to drive.

"C'mon, let's go!" the usually calm blonde yelled at the both of them as Heero slid into the back seat and Trowa sat up front with his lover, "I called your mom, she's going to meet us there!"

Heero nearly yelled at him to just drive, but Quatre was already speeding down their street. He kept Duo in his lap, holding him still, his fear growing and growing as the longhaired boy didn't wake up once during the entire ride to the hospital.
*****
The emergency room gave Heero one, long shock of deja vu. It was exactly like that night, and he hated each and every reminder of it, how close Duo had come to dying. He hated the white walls and white floors and white uniforms, and how all that white made the blood drenching Duo's shirt seem so much brighter, so much more terrible. His best friend hadn't stirred the entire ride there and Heero had itched to check him all over for wounds but had been incapable to actually get his hands to move from cradling the longhaired boy to his chest, his blue eyes wide, but unseeing as he felt Duo's warmth, his very real weight in his arms. He had been too scared about what he might find.

He felt that fear now, that same exact fear as months before, turning his heart into a terrified bird in a cage, terrified that, just like before, he had failed, and Duo was going to be the one to pay for it. And again, when they took his friend from him, he felt that primal instinct to grab onto him for dear life, to not let the boy he loved to be taken away from him again, no matter what. But this time, for whatever reason, perhaps because his friends were there with him and some part of him understood that they would back him up if anything was wrong, or because he understood more of what was happening this time, he stayed still and let the various nurses and orderlies do what they were paid to do.

Still, he felt a gaping hole in his heart when Duo disappeared into the ER, like something vital had been torn from him. He flinched as Trowa put his hand on his shoulder. It was a welcome touch, a reminder that he wasn't completely alone this time, that if something went wrong, his friends would be with him the whole way. They wouldn't let him make a bad choice.

"C'mon, Heero, let's sit down," the taller boy said softly, leading him over to the waiting room chairs, "you're shaking."

And Heero realized that he was. Not just his hands anymore, but his entire body. Numbly, feeling more like a robot than a person, he did as he was told. As he sat down, he realized that there was blood streaked over his arms and his shirt. The thought that it was Duo's blood, his love's blood again, made him almost break down into tears right then. Would this ever end? Would this nightmare ever be over? Or would this be the foundation of their relationship, hospital visits and him crying, even if it was only in his head?

Trowa met his boyfriend's aquamarine eyes and Quatre nodded, wandering over to the little bar that was next to the nurse's station to make Heero a cup of coffee. After an entire day of fruitless searching, only to suffer such a shock no more than ten minutes after they had come home, Heero needed rest, they all did, but he knew from experience that none of them would be sleeping until they got some sort of word from whatever doctor was seeing over their friend. Even if Heero didn't want the coffee, at least he could hold something warm. It was in the beginning of Summer, but Quatre felt ice cold.

He could still see it, behind his eyes, Heero cradling Duo's limp body, his bloody body, his childhood friend looking half crazy, and half like he was about to start sobbing with relief and fear at any moment. And suddenly, he realized that he was getting a taste of what his Japanese friend had gone through that night when he had found Duo collapsed in his bedroom, all by himself, and had sat in this very waiting room, for some kind of news, like a lone soldier. They had done all they had could do, they had gotten Duo here, but now what? What were they supposed to do, especially if something went really wrong? Quatre poured three cups of coffee for them and glanced back at Heero. He was sitting ramrod straight, staring at the floor like there was some great secret etched there. Quatre didn't want to think about what Heero would do if Wes had seriously hurt Duo, or worse.

Quatre sat down next to Heero and gave him and Trowa their coffee. Heero only held it and took to staring at the dark brown liquid instead of the floor. If he didn't look so alert and scared, Quatre would have thought he was sleepwalking. He wanted to sit next to his boyfriend, to put his hand on top of his like Trowa was doing to Heero, but knew who really needed him. He dimly understood that, with the two of them flanking their friend, they looked like a guard. A blonde nurse approached them with a clipboard and Quatre recognized her from the first ER visit they had had with Duo, she was the one that had the same last name as Trowa, but they weren't related.

He tensed, remembering all the issues they had had in this hospital, all the times that Name had ended up having to threaten a nurse or another staff member, just to be allowed to see Duo and make medical decisions for him. Rationally, he understood it. From there point of view, here came this woman who was used to people doing what she wanted just because she had money. To them, it looked like she was pushing them around, breaking their rules because she was rich and thought she could. It made a lot of proud people want to fight, to maintain order. But they didn't understand, and part of that was just because Name tried her hardest not to have them invade Duo's privacy. They were the only family Duo had.

The fact that they weren't his legal guardians didn't matter. Quatre knew that Duo didn't care if Name adopted him or not. All he cared about was if she loved him, a name wouldn't prove that to him. All that she had done proved it. If he really cared that much about a name, wouldn't he have resented taking Wes' last name? He wasn't sure. The waters of Duo's mind ran deep, and as much as he believed that they knew him well now, he knew that there were things buried deep inside of his heart that he didn't want any of them to know.

He wished there was some way Name could take responsibility for Duo without having to go through all the fanfare of adoption and legal documents, that they could just walk in here and be accepted as his family. That's what hurt the most, that in the eyes of the government, they were just strangers. To his relief, the nurse smiled kindly at them and handed Heero a clipboard.

"I take it your mother is going to take care of everything again?" she asked him.

Heero nodded silently.

"Please fill these forms out then," she said, "and do you need to use a phone to contact her? Is there anything you need me to tell his doctor about what happened?"

He shook his head, dismissing her as he scanned the paperwork she had given him.

"Thank you very much," Quatre smiled back at her, immediately falling into the role of the one in command, "We called her a little while ago, so she should be here very soon. And we really don't know anything more than the doctor does about this. Will you please tell us anything you can, right away?"

"Of course," she nodded and went on her way, through the door next to the nurse's station.

Quatre was happy to see her go. He hated having to lie. He didn't even know what to say. What had happened... what he thought had happened wasn't going to help Duo right now. He didn't even know if what they assumed was right. They didn't know anything, not even how bad Duo's injuries were. Heero was completely focused on the paperwork affixed to the clipboard, like he was taking a test. A heavy silence fell between them as the Japanese teenager filled in Duo's fake name that they had used all the other times that he had been admitted here, his age, his race, his permanent address... Quatre and Trowa looked over at him in alarm as he paused in writing and gave a strained, bitter chuckle.

"It's a lie..." he murmured.

"What is, Heero?" Trowa asked softly, not liking how stressed his friend sounded.

"Everything. Everything on here... the only thing I know for certain is his blood type. Everything else, I either have no clue or it's an outright lie that we made up. He's my best friend... I love him... and I know next to nothing about him. His real age, his real name, who his parents were, where he came from, where he lived with Wes for most of his life... all those things, he's never said or even he doesn't know..." fresh tears tracked down his cheeks, "I should know these things..."

"Are they that important?" the Italian boy asked.

"Of course they are!" Heero snapped at him, the nurse at the station who was on the phone pausing in her conversation to give them wary looks, "They're a part of him, part of what makes him who he is!"

"But are they important?" Trowa snapped back, "How old he really is, his real name, who his parents were... do they change anything? Do they change who he is or how you feel about him? If you suddenly knew all those things, would it help him now, would it help you?! You did everything you could, Heero. You didn't chase him away this time, you didn't make him cry."

Heero covered his mouth with his hand, his feelings from that time rushing back from some dark place in his heart. His guilt, that terrible gnawing guilt of the monster he had been, the horrible things he had said, hitting Duo, chasing him away into the night for worse monsters to feast on him. Almost getting him killed. He had let Duo believe that he had moved past all of that, but it was a lie. Even now, it ate at him and haunted his dreams, that for a moment, he had become something pathetic and weak, that he had hurt someone who had needed his help. Deep inside, he knew that Trowa was right. He wasn't to blame for this. He hadn't thrown Duo away for Wes to find him. So why did he feel like it was his fault, for not being able to protect him?

"He came back to us, Heero," Quatre whispered, "No matter what happened, who took him, or what they did to him, he came back. Duo's strong, you know that. Even if he doesn't, we all know how strong he is. He returned home, all under his own power. Do you really think, if there's something wrong with him, he won't pull through now when he's almost back with us again? We aren't finished yet, we didn't fail him, because our part hasn't started yet. He escaped, and now the doctors are going to fix everything that they can and when they're done, we're going to fix everything that we can. You can't blame yourself right now, you don't have that luxury."

Heero let Quatre stern, but honest words fill his heart and felt himself nod and start to write again. It wasn't over... that was right. Just like last time, the hard part, the really hard part, hadn't been looking for Duo, or finding him wrapped up in a bloody sheet in his bedroom. It had been after, listening to Duo's sobbing words of what had happened to him. It had been picking up the pieces. He steeled himself and fought back his tears. Whether or not he could blame himself for this... he would figure that out in due time. He handed the clipboard to Trowa who took it back to the nurse's station.

All he could do now was wait for someone to tell him what injuries his friend had, and for his mother to show up to take control of this situation from him. And then, the hard part, the part that was important, would begin.
*****
Name got there no more than twenty minutes than they had. Quatre was sure that she had broken all kinds of traffic laws to get there in the time she did, remembering how curt she had been with him on the phone once he had told her that Duo had found his way home. She looked out of breath and almost as panicked as her son did. Then, for a period of time, chaos the likes that only Name could bring, ensued. Without even taking a second to ask Quatre to elaborate on what had happened or ask Heero if he was ok, she had flagged down Nurse Barton, gave Duo's insurance and her credit information and had a lengthy talk with her.

Quatre caught the words 'visiting privileges', 'notification', and 'anemia' several times and they only made him feel more anxious, but some part of him felt comforted, seeing her take charge like that. The first time they had met, Nurse Barton had seemed so flustered by the other woman's power and demands, hesitant to do what she was asked and clinging stubbornly to hospital policy. Now, she just nodded along with everything Name said. Perhaps, after three hospital visits, the nurse understood that when the hurricane named Name Yuy came knocking at your door, the only sensible thing to do was to get the hell out of her way.

Confident that Duo would well taken care of, Name turned her attention to the boys. She looked exhausted and completely in control at the same time. Her whole demeanor softened as she walked up to them, her black eyes flickering to her son every now and then. She hadn't been out on official business, no doubt trying to get word from her various connections that she had sent out to find Duo, dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a simple, navy blue top that had probably flustered the nurse more than her rapid fire demands.

"What happened?" she asked Trowa, focusing her attention to the calmest looking of the three, "Is it true, Duo came home?"

"Yes," Trowa answered, "Heero got to him first, but... he just... walked in through the front door, like nothing had happened..."

"He was covered in blood..." Heero murmured, not looking at his mother but at the floor again, "He was confused... like he had just woken up and didn't know where he was... he... he..."

"He had a knife, and it was covered in blood. Dark blood. And I looked and I looked, but I couldn't find a wound... he was hurt, but I couldn't find it!"
"He was shaking... in shock..." he said instead.

He didn't want to tell anyone about the knife. Some part of him screamed at him that the smartest thing he had done all night was toss it under the bed. He had thought he had done it for Duo's safety... he had been so sure of that... had he? When he had seen that knife, so drenched in blood, he had panicked. He had been terrified that Duo might cut himself with it... but had that been the only reason why he had hid it like that? His mother knelt down in front of him and lightly touched his hand. She frowned at how cold it was. Unlike Heero, Quatre, and Trowa, her hands were steady, but Heero knew that if she had seen Duo, they wouldn't be. No, it was more like she was forcing herself not to fall apart like the rest of them. He saw the fear in her eyes very clearly, as it mirrored his own, but she knew that she had to stay calm.

"Did he say anything to you, anything at all?" she asked quietly, making sure that no one would be able to eavesdrop on them. There were only three other people in the ER waiting room, one was fast asleep, another on the other side of the room, and the nurse was still on the phone.

Heero shook his head.

"Not a single word," he said.

Name sighed.

"What were his injuries?" she asked, keeping her son from drifting off into anxiety again.

"I... I don't know..." Heero admitted, thinking of the blood again, "There was so much blood, I couldn't really tell. It looked like he had cuts all over his arms. His face was bruised really badly, and he's lost weight. That's all I could tell."

She stood up and ran a hand through her hair. This time, it was a little bit less than steady. She felt an immense deja vu sweep over her. When Duo had gone missing, she had known that they would end up here again, especially if Wes was the one who had kidnapped him. She hated it, but at the same time, she also felt a massive sense of relief. They were here, which meant that Duo was alive, that there was enough left to help and heal. Better here than in a morgue, or nowhere at all. He was here, somewhere beyond the doors that they weren't allowed to go through, laying on a stretcher, perhaps being operated on again, getting a blood transfusion from some nameless person, she didn't know. But he was within her reach, not in the hands of a monster. Right now, that was good enough for her.

Quatre moved over so Name could sit down next to Heero. She leaned heavily against him, not a single one of them saying anything. None of them needed to. They all felt the same terror, the same anxiety. No magazines or books were passed between them. They sat still in the stiff, waiting room chairs and did just that. They waited.
*****
It was longer than it had been before. Heero did not know how that was possible, or even what it meant, but hour after hour passed them by with no word from Doctor Stark or anyone else. The night and early morning came, the sun rose outside, and he watched time pass through person after person being admitted to the ER, some with gun shot wounds or broken bones. There had been a child that had drunk some drain cleaner, according to her screaming mother. Just two hours later, a doctor that Heero didn't recognize came out and tried to lead her mother away, but she refused to budge. Finally, with great reluctance, he had told her that they hadn't gotten to her in time. Her daughter had passed away.

Eventually, she let herself be led into the ER, though she had still been screaming and sobbing uncontrollably. Heero was glad to see her go. Every cry and near screech had reminded him of his mother, locking herself in her room and sobbing when his father had died. It made his nerves feel icy cold and he had to fight to keep his own sobs from starting. After five hours, Nurse Barton left and came back with coffee for all of them, real coffee, not the shit the hospital served.

"Have you heard from him at all?" Name demanded, looking like a pent up lioness, her eyes blazing and her muscles tense.

The nurse shook her head.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Yuy. I asked his nurse assistant what was going on and she couldn't tell me much. All I learned was that he isn't in surgery, but there's been an alert placed," she informed her.

Heero felt like someone had shocked his heart as it skipped a few beats, only to speed up into a mad rhythm.

"An alert?" Name asked breathlessly, "What does that even mean?!"

"I don't know," the nurse admitted, "It could be a number of things. He could have had a panic attack, or they could be prepping him for another blood transfusion. I'll keep asking, but I'm not one of Dr. Stark's staff, so information is slow at best. I'm so sorry."

Name shook her head and thanked her. The news was a mix of relief and fear to her. She knew from experience that if something had really gone wrong, if Duo had died or gone into a coma or something equally horrible, they would have told her by now, and that he wasn't being operated on was a good thing, wasn't it? But why was there an alert? Just what had Wes done?

Nearly ten hours went by before Stark emerged from the ER and by then, they were all jumping out of their skin. Quatre and Trowa had managed to doze off a few times, though not for more than a couple of hours, but Heero and Name had stayed wide awake. Heero looked worse than the people that were admitted into the ER and Name wanted to tell him to try to sleep, but didn't dare. Heero didn't know if he should glare at Stark for taking so long or be relieved to see him. He examined every inch of the doctor's clothing for even the tiniest drop of blood, but he was in his white coat, not surgical scrubs. Heero had no idea what that meant.

"Come with me," he nodded to Name and Heero, then walked through the emergency room doors without looking back to see if they would.

Quatre wanted to scream at him that they needed to come, too, but Name shook her head at him and he understood that this was not the time or the place to argue about who had visiting rights. Heero and Name needed to be with Duo more than they did and he knew that they wouldn't keep them in the dark for long. Heero followed the doctor, feeling like he was in walking coma, like nothing around him was real except for himself and the doctor. Beyond the large, swinging doors was a long hallway. Nurses and orderlies bustled around, pushing carts and running from one room to the next. Stark led them to a little side hallway, where he turned to address them. The hallway was out of the way of everything, a place where they could talk and, perhaps, yell.

"What the hell is going on?!" Name snapped at him.

This time, Stark wasn't coping an attitude towards her. He looked very tired and agitated. As he crossed his arms over his chest, the sleeve of his coat on his right arm pulled up and Heero saw a fresh bandage.

"Is Duo alive?" Heero blurted out. He didn't care about anything else. He didn't even care if Stark had kept them waiting just to piss them off.

"Yes," Stark told him in a flat, exhausted tone, "and he isn't in any danger, currently. He lost some blood, but the transfusions were a success."

"Then what has taken so long-" Name demanded.

"All that blood," Heero interrupted, "He was stabbed," the knife flashed in his head, "or shot, wasn't he?"

"No," Stark said, utterly confusing the both of them, "His injuries were not that severe. If I had to wager a guess, that blood isn't his."

Heero paled. What was going on here? Was Stark lying to them? No, he decided. He remembered his own frantic search for the wound to cause that much blood, and how sure he had been that the reason why no one had stepped forward in the waiting room to tell them that Duo was out of surgery was because he was dead. There was no way anyone, let alone someone with Duo's health problems, could lose that much blood and live.

"His arms are all slashed up, which is why he needed the blood, but there are little other external injuries," Stark intoned, "He has very heavy bruising on his wrists and the side of his face, as well as his neck. He also has a bad concussion."

Heero's guilt emerged like a poisonous snake in his gut. He had let Duo black out. What if he had brain damage because of his stupid mistake? He should have realized it, with the blood on the side of his head, but had been so concerned with the blood splashed on his shirt, that it had hadn't occurred to him that Duo might have a head wound. Why was he so fucking stupid?!

"How bad is it?" Name asked, even as she was afraid of the answer.

"We already gave him x-rays and his skull isn't anymore damaged than it was before," the doctor assured her, "He's going to have a bad headache and act very confused for the next couple of days, but I believe we're out of the woods in that area."

Both she and Heero let go of the strained breaths they had been holding. Duo already had short term memory problems, how would he handle it if it got worse?

"The trouble isn't the concussion or blood loss, it's his immune system."

"Because of his spleen?" Heero guessed and Stark nodded.

"I don't know what happened, but he obviously hasn't been taking his medication. The weight loss isn't indicative of that, but it's made his condition worse. He's running a high fever and has some sort of low grade infection. Honestly, it wouldn't be as bad as it is, but he's been sick for awhile, more than just a day, so it's run havoc in his body. He's very weak and fatigued, a little bit malnourished, there's some inflammation in his muscles. He is also very dehydrated, but we're giving him a heavy dose of fluids and antibiotics. Unless the infection is a lot worse than we think, he should be able to leave here in three days."

Heero almost broke down into tears. It was ok... Duo had got out of this without some sort of terrible gaping wound or illness? Then why did he still feel like all of their heads were on the chopping block here?

"Honestly, Duo was very lucky," Stark admitted honestly, "His system was compromised, and in a couple more days without his meds, his body would have shut down a lot more severely than it had started to. He probably would have died. We already noticed some of the signs, fluid in his lungs, the beginnings of an infection in his kidneys, but nothing bad enough that some rest and the right medicine won't cure in just a few days. That being said... there is a complication..."

"A complication," Name echoed in disbelief.

Heero clenched his fists. He had known, but he hadn't wanted to really think about it, that there had to be a good reason for this lack of communication.

But he said that he's alive and isn't in danger, that's all that really matters. I can handle anything else, I can.

"At first I was willing to dismiss it as a panic attack or confusion from his concussion, but..." Stark shook his head, "While we were giving him the first blood transfusion, he woke up. And in the time that my back was turned, no more than sixty seconds, he had ripped out two of his IVs. He then got a hold of the scalpel I had used to cut his shirt off of him."

Heero eyed Stark's bandaged arm, putting the pieces together in his mind.

"He didn't know where he was," he protested in Duo's behalf, "He thought he was in danger, he was just trying to protect himself!"

He could imagine it easily. Duo had problems with hospitals and needles on a good day, but if he woke up and still thought Wes had him, of course he would grab the nearest sharp object and try to save himself.

"By the time I got to him, he had stabbed himself four times in the leg," Stark said gruffly.

Name's eyes widened and she looked at him with a horrified expression.

"He wouldn't do that!" Heero growled at him in denial, positive that the doctor was trying to pull something.

"It was when I tried to get the scalpel away from him that he cut my arm," Stark shot back at him, "Even without any sharp objects to use, he tried to hurt himself two more times before I could get the IV's back in him. I had to sedate and restrain him to get him to stay still for that long."

"Stark-" Name warned.

"I took his anemia into account," Stark cut her off angrily, getting pissed off by the way that they were looking at him, like he was the crazy one and not the boy that had lashed out at him, "I gave him a small enough dosage to keep him still long enough for me to treat him so he wouldn't make things worse, and he needs the rest anyway."

"Is there any reason why we can't see him?" Name asked curtly, burning with the need to see the chestnut haired boy with her own eyes.

Stark snorted.

"Follow me," he grumbled and led the two of them down the hallway.

With each step, Heero felt like he was unraveling, what little left of himself he had under control. Stark's words had done absolutely nothing to ease his anxiety. Duo wasn't under any immediate danger, but he was still here, he still needed this place to get better, and to him, that was bad enough. And he didn't trust Stark. The man had never really done anything necessarily bad, he just rubbed Heero the wrong way. He seemed to detest their presence and, despite the fact that Stark was a good doctor and they owed him Duo's life, he wouldn't put it past the man to do... something, for the sake of his pride. What that something was, Heero had no idea, he just felt on edge around him.

Plus, he remembered how Duo had seemed so wary around him at first and even the last time they had visited, appeared to only to be on guard whenever the doctor had been in his room. Heero didn't trust Stark, but he trusted Duo's opinion of peoples' characters. All that about Duo trying to hurt himself... he just couldn't believe that. He knew how terrified that younger boy got when he was sick and thought he was being surrounded, but he hadn't just attacked Stark, but himself. He couldn't believe that Duo would stab himself in the leg. He just couldn't think of a reason why he had done it...

Maybe... maybe Duo still thought he was with Wes... or worse. What if he believed that he had escaped, but that Wes had gotten him back? Maybe that had been the last straw for him and he, in his delirious state, had decided to try to kill himself instead of be with his abuser anymore... but if that was the case, why hadn't he tried to slit his own wrists instead of just go for his leg? Heero shivered as Stark stopped at one of the rooms and opened the door, that image of Duo ripping out his IVs, grabbing the scalpel, and opening his wrists burned in his head.
*****
Duo was sedated, but his sleep was far from restful. As though he were floating on stormy waves, he rose from violent, troubled dreams to just as troubled thoughts that came from that dark and sadistic voice in his head, only to fall back into more nightmares nearly as quickly as the others had faded. He couldn't remember his previous dream, only that it had something to do with the times he had been living on the street, the feeling of snow, prickling his bare skin, and the taste of rat in his mouth.

Now, the ground beneath his feet wasn't ice-cold pavement. It was the hallway of Wes' apartment. His feet were still bare and they still felt cold.

'I don't want to be here,' he thought, 'I escaped here... didn't I?'

"Did you?" that all-knowing voice asked.

This time, the voice wasn't just in his head. His self stood in front of him, in front of the closed, closet door. Like with most dreams, the details weren't perfect. This Duo seemed taller to him, even though they met each other's stare at the same level. His hair was darker, but more like it was dirty than it was naturally darker. He was thinner and paler, but not sickly. His eyes seemed to not be able to make up their minds on what color they wanted to be, one moment pitch black, the next the same shade of blood red that Shi's were. The details were skewed, but Duo somehow understood that this was him, and just looking at the specter frightened him, though he didn't know why.

"You killed him," it accused.

Pain, rage, sorrow, grief, remorse, and indescribable guilt shot through him all at once with those words, making him feel like his heart was being torn in his chest with hot razorblades.

'No!' he screamed, shaking his head frantically in denial, and even in his dream, he could feel the tears pouring down his cheeks, 'I didn't do it! I didn't kill him! There's no way I could have killed him!'

His doppelganger smirked.

"Do you think that he's the Boogeyman, even now? Do you really think, even he could have survived it... when you plunged that blade into his throat?"

Duo felt like screaming, and maybe he was. It seemed like he was.

'No,' he cried, 'I didn't mean it... I didn't mean to hurt him... I didn't want to hurt him, I just wanted to run away... I didn't mean it! I couldn't have... I couldn't... not to him... there's no way he could have died because of me...'

And deep in the dream, he clung to that reassurance. He was weak and pathetic, nothing more than a crying child. Always had been. That Wes could have died, the same man that had taken out gangs and created a criminal empire out of nothing... because of that wailing child... he couldn't accept that. Wes couldn't be dead, he couldn't have killed him. He hadn't wanted to. After everything the man had done to him, he hadn't wanted to kill him!

His other self only continued to smirk at him, then pointed to the floor. Duo followed his gesture to the space under the closet door. A pool of blood grew on the carpet there, moving almost like a tide, spreading over the floor like something alive. From behind him, he heard footsteps. Familiar footsteps, with all of the power of thunder. He whirled, but his body felt wrong, not really sluggish, but like there was something wrong with his right leg.

Wes stood there, as though he just come storming out of the kitchen. A tiny, conscious part of himself expected to see him dressed in a suit, just like he had been the first time they had met, even as he knew, somehow, that Wes had stopped needing that charade long, long ago. He was just wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. He had his belt clenched in one hand and his grey eyes were bright with fury.

'I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry for what I did!' he wanted to scream, but the words wouldn't come. Seeing his dea- ... his pimp there, he felt a strange mix of relief, guilt, and fear.

He felt himself take a faltering step backwards. Wes looked bigger, because he wasn't a teenager right now. He was smaller and his abuser, in comparison, looked like some towering monster.

"Get the fuck over here, now!" Wes snarled in the authoritative, cold tone that Duo was so used to hearing whenever he was about to be punished for something.

Duo was aware of a sense of deja vu, a memory that prickled the back of his head, but in his nightmare, it eluded him. He felt himself shake his head, as though his body were moving on its own.

"Please," he heard himself say, but they weren't his words, at least not his present ones, "please, I didn't mean it!"

Wes was completely unfazed by his pleas, striding forward with that same cold, annoyed look on his face. Duo's older self knew what the child he had been had not. Protesting his punishment was the biggest mistake he could have made. Seeing the intent in those stony eyes, Duo tried to run, but as he twisted, pain flared in his right ankle. He managed a meager three steps before his leg spasmed (swollen... my ankle was swollen because he had tied me up and I had struggled so much trying to get out of it, I pulled a bunch of muscles in my leg and ankle...) and he fell.

In no more than a second, Wes was on him like a wolf after an injured deer. He grabbed his downed prey by his wounded leg and dragged him back. Duo felt like he couldn't breathe and honestly couldn't tell if that was just another part of his memory. He heard the soft sound of Wes swinging his belt, a sound that even his younger self had easily become familiar with from his earlier days of training, back when he had had enough of his self left to try to fight what was happening to him. He heard the sound for only a second, then the rest of them were drowned out by his startled cries.

Wes had hit him hundreds of times by then, mostly whenever he had misbehaved or failed in his training. It wouldn't be until later that he would teach Duo how such blows might be used to pleasure his clients. He had always hit him with the soft end of the belt, aiming for pain and bruises. This time, he hit him with the buckle. Each hit with it created a trail of liquid fire, tearing open his shirt and his skin. The sharp pain drove the air from his lungs, robbing his cries of any kind of volume or power. All he was aware of was that pain arching over his back, and how wet his skin suddenly felt.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, I'm so sorry," he heard someone say, their voice warped and small, barely audible over the thwack of the belt and the ripping sounds of his ruined shirt. He dimly realized that the voice was his own.

Wes seemed satisfied with the damage he had done and ceased the blows, but the cessation in rhythm only turned the sharper pains into throbbing, agonizing ones. Duo remembered crying, and he could hear his child self crying, but he, himself, wasn't. Truthfully, Wes hadn't hit him that hard, not as hard as he was used to him doing once he had gotten older, and his skin had gotten thicker. Even through his anger at being disobeyed, some part of Wes had held back, aware of how easy it was to break a small, underfed child.

But he still felt the tears behind his eyes, waiting to break forth. It wasn't the pain, at least not the pain in his ankle and back. It was the pain he felt every time he felt Wes' eyes on him, that familiar stare. It was the pain he felt every time he heard his voice or even the steady, controlled blows he was so used to. Every part of Wes that was forever burned into his soul, things that he wanted to exorcise, but knew that he never could. Those feelings... even in his dreams, he could feel the ache in his chest, the yearning. And deeper inside of that pain, he could smell blood, heavier than his own, and hear the wet sound of a knife piercing solid flesh. It made that yearning and ache grow and grow and grow into a black hole inside of him. He didn't know what he wanted. He was terrified, and guilty, and just didn't know where that yearning belonged among them.

Wes grabbed him by his injured ankle and dragged him into the closet, Duo's torn shirt riding up and his blood streaking the carpet. His older self remembered struggling to clean it later. Before Wes slammed the door closed, Duo got a glimpse of him in the last view of light he would get until the morning when Wes had let him out again. His handsome face was as stony as his eyes, his dark blonde bangs falling in his face for a brief moment, starting to get a bit long and messy. Duo was overcome with misery and self-hatred. He wanted to fling his arms around the man and cling to him, as though he thought that his embrace could keep Wes with him, could turn back the clock.
I'm so sorry.

His child self scrambled to the door, but it was too late. The door closed and he was submerged in darkness. Memories, from both back then and currently, bombarded him. Memories of one hot summer living on the streets when a three day long black out had turned his nights into a nightmarish war zone. Memories of a semen soaked bed and manacles around his wrists and ankles. Memories of Wes sitting next to him in this same closet during his delirium, stroking his sweat dampened hair more gently than he had ever touched him before.

"I love you so very much. Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

Please forgive me.
His child self beat frantically at the door, equally terrified of the darkness and being trapped, nearly hyperventilating in the small space.

"Please, please!" he shrieked, both sobbing and screaming at once, "I'm sorry! Please let me out!"
Let me out let me out let me out
"I'll be good, I promise! I didn't mean it! Please... I'm sorry... please!"
Let me go
His words faded away to a choked sob as he stopped striking the door, drained of his energy and adrenaline. Over his cries, Wes' voice came through the door, hard and cold, tinged with anger, when in his memory, there had only been silence.

"Saying you're sorry isn't good enough," he snapped and Duo heard his footsteps moving down the hallway.

Agony wracked his heart, each word like its own nest of wasps, stinging him over and over again.

Please forgive me. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!
"Saying you're sorry isn't good enough."
No. No, it had to be good enough! He had to be forgiven. He just wanted to take the whole thing back.

'You took the life of another person,' his other, darker self accused.

Duo sobbed in the darkness.

"I didn't mean it..."

'You severed his jugular vein with his own knife,' the voice continued coldly, but there was a hint of glee in that inner voice.

"No!" the longhaired boy screamed in denial, shaking his head frantically, "I didn't know! I hadn't meant to hurt him, it was an accident!"

An image flashed in his head, the very last time he had seen Wes, lying in a pool of his blood. His dead, grey eyes accusing him...

'You didn't mean to do it?'

And suddenly, the doppelganger was behind him, or maybe it always had been, staring down at him in contempt.

"You're full of shit."
*****
It took every remaining ounce of will power that he had left not to run into Duo's hospital room. Stark let Name and Heero enter the room first, taking his time to talk to a passing nurse. Heero didn't care. Stark and his mother faded into white noise.

Duo was hooked up to significantly fewer IVs and machines than that other time. Heero could clearly identify the lines giving him blood, the ones giving him fluids, and the ones feeding him medication and antibiotics. It helped soothe the fear and paranoia he always felt every single time he found himself in rooms like these. there were no avert signs that Duo had been operated on, just some pristine, white bandages wrapped around both of his arms, and the side of his head near his temple. The mint-green covers were pulled up to his chest, so Heero couldn't tell if Stark had been telling the truth about Duo stabbing himself, but he would make sure once his heart was done doing its acrobatics.

The sight of the black bruises on his best friend's white neck, the very defined shape of fingers, enraged him. It made everything hit home to him with a very cold reality. Duo had been kidnapped and hurt, maybe even raped again. He wanted to demand that Stark check to make sure his friend hadn't been sexually assaulted, but he wouldn't do that to Duo. The violet eyed boy would tell him on his own if there was a chance that he had internal injuries. There was a blush on his face from the fever, but the rest of him was deathly pale. The dark circles under his eyes made him look five years older than he was, at least. His hair was dirty and it was loose. That fact startled him before he remembered that it had been down when he had found him in his bedroom.

There was a chair next to the bed and he made a beeline for it. Sitting so close to Duo had him nearly vibrating with nervous and excited energy. He was safe now... wasn't he? He had promised Duo that he would protect him from Wes, but he had failed. Normally, that knowledge would have sent him spiraling into crippling guilt and self-hatred, but Duo hadn't needed him feeling sorry for himself. He had needed his strength and courage. The only thing that had sustained him these last five days, the only thing that had made his nights and dreams even slightly bearable was his belief that, had he been here, none of this would have happened. He never would have failed him.

But wasn't that completely arrogant? If Wes tried to get Duo back from this hospital, would he be able to stop him? The last time they had met, Wes had kicked his ass, even without his gun. Heero reached over and touched Duo's hand, his heart pounding like a tribal drum. He had to protect him, had to. He had to prove to both Wes and Duo that he could. But he still felt so powerless.

Just like Stark had told him, Duo's wrists were tied down to the bed, but Heero saw with immense relief that they weren't the very thick leather straps that he had always seen them use on mental patients in movies and television, but simple, thin black straps that worked, not with a buckle but Velcro secured in such a way that only a second party could pull them open. But still, seeing his love's thin, white wrists tied down was heart breaking. If Duo woke up and discovered he was tied down, he was going to have a panic attack. Thinking of those violet eyes widening in terror had him grabbing the nearest cuff, ready to pry it open.

"Don't," Stark ordered.

Heero glared back at him, but his mother spoke for him, her voice strong even though she looked pale and worried from Duo's appearance.

"Is this really necessary?" she demanded, "He's sedated and he isn't some kind of lunatic!"

"I only gave him enough to settle him down," the doctor snapped at her, "He fell asleep because he's sick and lacking proper nutrients. And that was an hour ago. He should be waking up soon. Also, it is the policy of this hospital that any patient that attempts to harm either themselves or others be restrained for the duration of their stay unless they are seen by a psych councilor. Which I am recommending in his chart, especially if he continues to try to hurt himself."

"He's sick," Name said as calmly as she could at that moment, "and he doesn't know where he is, it doesn't mean he's unbalanced."

But Stark heard the slight doubt in her voice and knew that she was examining every detail in this situation. He hated her, but even he had to admit he admired her composure and rational thinking. Most women couldn't possibly conceive that their children or other family members would do something like this, but this woman knew that, with the boy's history, being unbalanced was not outside the realm of possibility.

"He's been sick and confused before," he pressed, "and this is the first time he's reacted this way."

"Look," Name pointed out tiredly, "Heero and I are going to be watching over him. We'll make sure he doesn't hurt himself and try to find out why he's acting like this, if it continues."

"Fine," Stark snapped, "But if this behavior continues, I will send him for counseling."

Name was shocked at the ease that Stark had agreed. He didn't want to, she could see that stubbornness in his expression. But there was something... different about him from the last times they had met. He wasn't being as pompous, like he was holding back. Being cautions. No, it was more than that. He was distracted by something, something that had nothing to do with them, perhaps a more urgent patient. Name quickly decided that she didn't care why Stark was letting the issue go, only that, for Duo's sake, she was going to exploit it.

Heero hastily undid the straps and saw that even Duo's wrists were bandaged, and what little skin he could see was heavily bruised from something thicker than the hospital restraints. Heero touched the black bruises with just the barest brush of his fingertips, so Duo wouldn't feel any pain, even in his sleep. It felt so good to feel his skin again and he felt an equally deep pain that he couldn't hug him. Behind him, Stark gave Name the remainder of Duo's paperwork, which she filled out quickly, having filled out similar forms so many times now, she could do it with her eyes closed. Once she was done, the doctor bustled away, leaving the three of them alone in uncomfortable silence.

Name walked over the bed and looked down at Duo with an expression that was soft with worry, love, and a great deal of relief, a look that only a mother could prefect. She gently brushed his forehead with the back of her hand, frowning at the heat radiating from his skin. She felt a powerful need for Duo to wake up, to see his violet eyes and hear, in his own voice, that he was ok. Heero remembered her touching his own forehead like that whenever he had been sick and how good it had always felt.

"He'll be ok, Heero," she assured her son even as she continued to examine her charge, committing every bruise and bandage to memory.

Heero knew that she didn't need to look at him to know how bad his anxiety was, he was sure he was wearing the same worried look that his mother was.

"You can't know that," he murmured, "even if he recovers physically-"

"You don't give him enough credit," she said sadly as she pulled a chair up next to Heero's, "He's strong, stronger than you realize. Duo's been through a lot in his life, but he's never fully given up. If he had, he wouldn't have picked himself up so quickly when he had been allowed to go back to school, he wouldn't have cared enough to. I know he seems like he's fragile, and some parts of him are," she reached over to hold his hand, "but we'll take care of him, just like we always have."

"But this is Wes," he argued, "and he had Duo. Who knows what he did to him! I mean... look at his neck..."

Heero pulled his hand away from his mother and wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly feeling chilled. Name replaced his hand with Duo's, not as afraid as her son was of hurting him. His hand felt cold to her, but he curled his fingers a little, responding to her touch and making her smile.

"We'll deal with that when we get to it," she murmured, "Whatever that bastard did to him, whatever pain he's in, we'll deal with it," her black eyes turned fierce as she stroked the top of Duo's hand, "I won't let that monster near him again, I won't even allow him to get the chance."

Heero looked at his mother, ready to be angry at her. She had always been more concerned with trying to find Wes through legal channels, to have him arrested and tried like any other criminal. She had told him that it was what Duo deserved, it was the right thing, and until Wes had shot his best friend in the woods, he had believed it, too. But Wes had stepped up this twisted game of his. He had put someone they loved deeply in mortal and psychological danger. Duo was an incredible person. No matter how much he got hurt, he always thought of the welfare of others and tried to do the right thing. It was one of the many things that he loved about him.

Ever since he had nearly killed one of their classmates for insulting, and verbally threatening Duo, Heero had promised him that he would never do anything like that again, and he had vowed to himself that he would never, ever let Duo see him be controlled by his anger again. He had tried to become a better person, someone like Duo that always tried to be peaceful and do what was 'right'. But he wasn't like his best friend. He had come a long way from the bitter boy he had once been, but when it came to seeing his friends hurt, he couldn't stop the wave of fury that entered him, the need to eliminate any threat. How could he stand by and let Wes continue breathing air, or any of Duo's other abusers, when they would only keep hurting him? He didn't care if it was right or wrong. He just wanted Duo to be safe, and it was high time his mother realized that, too.

He stopped before any words left his mouth, really looking at her. Her eyes weren't just fiery, but also stony, like hardening lava, and the hand that wasn't gently holding Duo's was curled into a tight fist. He had never seen her with this sort of expression before, like a warrior ready to do battle. She was serious, he realized. She wasn't going to stop until Duo was safe, truly safe. It should have scared him. For as long as he could remember, his mother had been this calm, driving force. Always constant and patient. Even when she had been angry, she had been rational and fair.

Heero had a revelation at that moment. Wes was like an especially voracious sort of plague. He moved from person to person, infecting them, changing them until they were as full of darkness as he was. He had taken a scared, lonely little boy and turned him into a trained pet. He had made them all so desperate that they were willing to resort to murder to make them all safe again. Duo was the only one that hadn't broken his resolve. He should have been scared, realizing how much Wes had changed his little family, but seeing the anger in his mother's eyes actually made him feel a lot better.

Duo's fingers moved again, this time squeezing down harder on Name's hand and keeping the pressure on. His brows furrowed and Name quickly recognized the signs that he was starting to wake up. She stood and placed a hand on his forehead, stroking his bangs lightly, hoping the familiar touch would help ease him out of any nightmares.

"Sweetheart," she tried to soothe, seeing how his expression was tight and anxious, whether from that feeling of being drugged or if he was remembering something unpleasant she didn't know. While his mother was focused on Duo, Heero was more concerned about the heart monitor, which was steadily beeping faster and faster. Slowly, as though it was costing him a great amount of energy to do so, Duo opened his eyes. In one moment, those blue-violet eyes were clouded over with sleep, the lingering effects of the sedative, and confusion. In the next, he was wide awake with fear and adrenaline.

Name had only a second of warning to back away as Duo burst up into a sitting position, thankfully not disturbing the IV lines too much. His eyes were wide and he looked around frantically for something, but he didn�t see his surroundings at all, like he was still dreaming. His terrified, shocked look reminded Heero of a documentary he had watched once, when a young gazelle had tried to cross a river to catch up with its herd, only to be snatched up in the cold, uncaring jaws of a hungry crocodile.

The worst part of it was that Duo wasn�t making any noise. Not a whimper or a murmured word, he wasn�t crying or screaming. He was breathing hard, but that was all. The both of them were at a loss of what to do, of how to snap him out of it, knowing that grabbing him was a very bad idea. As they waited, he seemed to get some kind of awareness, but noticing his surroundings only confused him more. Duo looked down at his arms and they thought it was the bandages he was looking at, but it wasn�t. It was the blood he was seeing, the blood that the nurse had meticulously washed off of him.

Wes� blood. The blood he had made him bleed. Splashing, pouring, dripping down on him. Soaking into his skin. So warm... like a living thing. But it wasn�t alive. It wasn�t alive because he had killed the person it belonged to. Unbeknownst to Duo, he had started to hyperventilate and his heart monitor was ringing an alarm. He could feel it sticking to his skin, drying on his shirt, a part of a person, the evidence of the horrible thing that he had done. He rubbed at his left arm, but it didn�t go away. It never would. How could you possibly wash something like this away?

Heero watched as Duo started to struggle to breathe, each inhale and exhale raspy as he tried to get air into his damaged throat and felt like he was going to have a panic attack himself. He couldn�t stand that pained noise, and he couldn�t take Duo�s strange silence. His immediate instinct was to embrace him tightly, to hold him in his arms, but knew that was the wrong thing to do here, that it would only make Duo retreat further from reality. Instead, he gently placed his hand on Duo�s arm, a small, but unthreatening touch. Agony ripped through his heart as the other boy flinched from him, but it was only a momentary instinct. Then, Duo�s eyes were on him instead of staring at something only he could see, and Heero felt that he had managed to reach some rational part of the teenager�s mind.

�Duo, it�s ok,� he said softly, �You�re safe now.�

Tears slid down his cheeks as Heero's words rang in his head. He was safe. He had escaped... he wasn�t in the dark anymore. There was nothing holding him back. No monster, no boogieman breathing down his neck.
�And there never will be again,� the voice jeered, making Duo shake a little with the wave of mixed emotions that filled him with that thought.

He wasn�t in the place he wanted to be, Duo ignored the voice, but he was with the ones he wanted to be with. He wanted to hug Heero and not let him go until he had no other choice, but something stopped him.
�Murderer.�
He shuddered.
Heero... please forgive me. He won�t ever forgive me. Not in my dreams and not in my heart. And I don�t think that I deserve to be forgiven. But, please... if it�s you... if you can forgive what I did, I know it�ll be enough, more than enough... if you can look at me without contempt, without fear... then can I pretend everything will be ok?
Duo opened his mouth to say these things, not even caring that he was about to confess to Name as well. He needed to confess, they had to know. Even if they hated him for it-
�You can get away with it, you know,� his dark self pointed out, making Duo pause, �If you don�t tell anyone, none of them have to know that you�re a murderer. No one has to know you killed him, that you took that unforgivable step to the thing you have been scared of for so long, becoming him. Do you really think that they�ll just... forgive you for that? That Heero will be able to look you in the eye? That he�ll forgive you for asking him to lie and pretend everything�s fine when you should be in jail for what you did? He won�t just be disgusted in you, he�ll be afraid of you... Is that really what you want after everything you did and went through just to see him again?�

Duo�s throat spasmed, just like it had before, and the words that had been on his tongue became soundless.

�You lived with a murderer for eight years,� the voice taunted, �You know all of his tricks, all of his protocols. You�ve helped him hide the bodies more than cone. He was never punished for all the people he killed, all the lives he destroyed, so why should you be? After all, the reason you�re so afraid of becoming Wes... it�s only because you know how to be him, better than anyone else, right?�

Heero watched in alarm as what little color Duo had on his face drained away and he nearly thought the boy was going to pass out. His lips moved but no sound came and Heero quickly realized he was trying to say something, but physically couldn�t. Duo tried, again and again, to say even just one, single word, but his voice wouldn�t come. It was locked away inside. His face twisted up in frustration and he clenched his fists. He screamed, putting as much force into it as he could as fear continued to make his heart beat wildly, his white face turning red as it felt like someone was scraping his damaged throat with nails.

There was only a deep, disturbing silence. It was chilling, watching Duo sob and scream like that, as though the world had been put on mute. It terrified Heero, that the injury to his throat might be so bad, it had damaged Duo�s vocal cords somehow. His best friend bent double, still crying and gasping and trying to speak silently, and hit the sides of his head with his fists.

�Duo, stop it,� Heero pleaded, even more scared that the American was going to hurt himself trying to speak than he was of his silence. He heard his mother say something, and footsteps running towards the room from the hall, but neither of those things mattered to them.

With a great deal of patience and tenderness, Heero placed his hand on Duo�s chest. The longhaired boy stopped and stilled, staring at Heero as though he were truly seeing him for the first time since he had woken up.

�It�s alright,� Heero told him with a comforting smile, �You don�t need to try so hard. You�re hurt and sick. You need to rest. Everything else can wait. You�re safe now, and if there�s anything you need to tell us, we�ll get you some paper or something so we can communicate, ok?�

Heero�s voice and words weaved a calming spell, and Duo sat back against the pillows. His friend�s hand was pleasantly warm. He could feel that warmth through the flimsy hospital gown, seeping down, into his heart. That warmth spread out, settling his heart�s screaming beat. His eyelids drooped and he suddenly felt very tired almost dizzy. Heero�s blue eyes were suddenly the only things in his world that mattered. The blue that he had wanted to see the entire time Wes had held him captive.

Heero smiled softly down at him, relieved he had stopped the panic attack. Duo�s heart monitor still wailed its alarm, but the rhythm was settling back to its normal beat.

�What the hell is going on?!� Stark demanded as he entered the room, switching off his pager.

Duo didn�t even know he was there. The doctor was just background noise. He reached out with a slightly shaking hand and touched Heero�s arm. His skin felt so familiar to him, his warmth like a blanket he wanted to drown in.

�He had a panic attack,� Name was explaining.

Heero placed his other hand over Duo�s entwining his fingers with him. The dam broke.

Duo started to sob, this time more freely and less strained than before. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his chest hitched from the force of his emotions; part grief, part sorrow, part relief, but mostly love, but he still gave no sound. Name was at his side in less than a second and Heero backed away, sensing something in the air that was warm and calm, but also electric, suddenly knowing that this was the first, real time that his friend understood what had happened to him. he had been abducted, but he had escaped. And Heero also realized that he wasn�t the one that Duo needed the most right now for once.

That fact should have hurt, but Duo wasn�t some quick crush of his, born out of nothing but puppy adoration. He loved him. And he could see the pain that he was in now, his bare need, as rare as water in a desert, to be coddled and protected. Heero couldn�t remember the last time he had seen this part of Duo take over like this. He usually had such iron control over it. How could he possibly be petty enough to deny him comfort? It was something Relena would want... to completely control and own something.

Name sat at the edge of the bed and gathered the sobbing boy into her arms, her motherly instincts taking over every inch of her. He felt so frail and so young in her arms, like a vulnerable child, she could hardly bear it. With each gasping cry, his breathing sounded pained and rough and she hated the sound of it. Duo wrapped his arms around her and clung to her as tightly as he could, suddenly terrified that, if he let her go, she would disappear, like dreams or vapor. He felt her hands on his hair, stroking it gently. Her touch was exactly like Heero�s warm and comforting, but very real, very powerful. Feeling her loving fingers there, and her arms wrapped around him like that, unraveled the very last shred of his tentative control and confusion. He sobbed hard into her top, his fingers digging into the soft material.

�Oh, Duo,� she breathed, resting her cheek on the top of his head and rubbing it subtly.

Heero watched them, somehow not feeling out of place or like a voyeur. He noticed that, through his sobs, Duo was saying something. This time, he could read his lips perfectly. He was saying �Mom� over and over. An intense pain struck his heart and tears pricked his eyes, but he wouldn�t let them fall. Following that pain was a just as intense rage. Seeing Duo cling to his mother like he had thought he would never see her again made him hate Wes more than he ever had before. Duo should never wear that frightened, desperate, relieved expression, not ever. He wondered if the well of his disgust and loathing of the bastard had any bottom at all. He turned a portion of that rage on Stark.

�What is wrong with his throat?!� he demanded, �You never said that his vocal cords were damaged!�

�That�s because they aren�t,� Stark stormed over to the heart monitor and switched off the alarm, turning back to glare at Heero, �His throat is-�

�So you knew he couldn�t talk and didn�t say anything about it,� Heero accused.

�His throat isn�t damaged in any way that would restrict his voice,� the doctor ignored his outburst, �There is some swelling and ruptures from being strangled, which is why he is having a hard time breathing. But once I sedated him, I made sure to scope his throat. There is no physical reason for his inability to speak,� he looked coldly at Duo.

Duo blinked at him, vaguely remembering feeling someone forcing something down his throat and a flare of pain, but he had thought that that had just been a dream, another nightmare in the jumbled mess of them.

�If he can�t speak, the reason is in his head, not his body,� Stark informed them. Heero thought he sounded smug.

Duo�s eyes widened from confusion to fear. Deep in his head, he thought he could hear someone laughing. He couldn�t tell if it was that sinister voice or Wes. He tightened his grip on Name even more. In his head... then, that spasming, how he couldn�t even sound out a single syllable... it was all his fault, because he had gone crazy and the only one he could blame was himself, this... roadblock in his head? Nothing that could be cured with time or medicine... Did... did that mean he would never speak again?

Name felt Duo go tense at Stark's thoughtless words and cursed the man for saying that out loud in front of all of them, instead of to her in private.

�Leave us,� she snapped, hearing that smugness in his voice as well, �We don�t need you.�

If Stark had had fur, he would have bristled at her angry dismissal, but knew there was no fighting the fire in her eyes. Besides, he had bigger things to worry about.

�Keep him calm,� he snapped at her, before storming out again.

Heero just barely managed to resist the urge to do something juvenile behind Stark�s back, like flipping him off or sticking out his tongue. In Name�s arms, Duo started to shake and burrowed his head deeper into Name�s chest, wanting to hide from everything. The knowing voice in his head, his inability to speak, Wes� accusing stare every time he closed his eyes. Name felt him trembling and held him closer.

�Sweetheart,� she nuzzled his hair, making him feel warm, �Everything�s going to be ok. You got away, that�s all that matters. Heero and I are here and we�ll take care of everything else. Just relax,� she stroked his back, not stopping even when she felt his trembling cease.

Heero sat down on the edge of the bed and rested his forehead on Duo�s left shoulder. This time the other boy didn�t flinch away, but leaned into his touch. Heero thought that the caress of Duo�s soft hair brushing against his cheek as the violet-eyed boy leaned his head against his was the sweetest feeling in the world, and it almost had him crying.

�We almost lost him. He wasn�t injured as badly as last time, but we almost lost him nonetheless,� Heero gripped at Duo�s gown above his leg, the touch not sexual, but the cheap material above warm skin was oddly comforting.

Duo�s embrace around Name stopped being a desperate cling and became more natural, like a snuggle.
This is my family.

The realization was sudden and, for a strange moment, it had seemed like it had come from that dark voice in his head. His family... not Wes... even after what he had done, he still understood and believed that. This was his family. He had almost lost them forever, but only part of that was the fault of Wes� violence. The rest of it was his. How close he had come to giving up... how could he have ever even considered, for even a second, that he could give this up, that he should? This felt so good, so right. This was where he belonged.

And just like that, nothing else mattered to him. He trusted Name and he believed her when she said that she and Heero would take care of everything. his speech difficulty, him becoming a murderer, what he would do now without Wes... for now, in this moment, those things weren�t important.

He had found his way home.
　

End part 14
Sorry about how long this took me to get out. I've been going through a really bad financial situation. I actually had this part done five days ago, but it took me this long just to fix the spelling and grammar and get it posted.
I want to thank moonlightskymist, starless-ocean, evilkitty, ffreeloader, and blackstarbeauty for the wonderful reviews! I truly was touched, and I'm glad that people enjoyed the recent turn of events. As a writer, it was kind of sad killing off a character that's been with me so long, but I can't lie that I didn't get a kind of sense of glee writing that scene.
I'm actually into the next part already, about five pages. I'll try to get my butt into gear with that.
　

　

　

　

　
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The Road to Kindness