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Slice of Life	By : Starla_Q Category: Gundam Wing/AC > General Views: 1313 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of it's characters. I do not make any money off of this story, adultfanfiction does not make any money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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Duo sat on the subway, hugging his bucket close for the ride into town. The edges of the tin monster felt like razors on his face, and when the handle clicked off the side, it sounded like a thunder clap. Heero hadn't granted him enough floor time to recuperate, but he still had things to do that day that couldn't wait. It was mid semester and he needed to pay off tuition and juice up his food card for the following months. Eating at school was expensive, he really wished he had a permanent place to cook food.

His grades were flawless and he received sponsorship because of it. It also allowed him to attend any private school of his choosing. All of that only took him so far, he was still required to pay off the remainder of his tuition on his own. To get funded to continue going, he needed to fill out the right paperwork, done once every three months. He put it off for a long time and today was one of the last days he could turn in his papers. Tomorrow was a weekend and all government buildings were closed on Saturday and Sunday; and Monday would result in a delay of money he couldn't afford. Luckily it was only a matter of passing paperwork to the right people, not a complicated process, it was more tedious than anything else. 'Of all the days it could have been,' he kicked himself(gently) for waiting so long to do it.

He traveled to and from Heero's dorm, to the school's main office in town, three different government buildings and then a post office, on foot. Tedious. No. Tormenting. The worst part of it was being hit with another wave of queasiness in the middle of the trip. "Dammit," he said as he walked down the semi-busy city street. His important papers resided in a large, brown paper envelop under his arm, he had to be sure not to mess them up. If he did, it was back to the start.

Duo felt his heart pounding in his stomach, there was no fighting through this wave. The first few shops he tried to ask didn't have a public rest room, so he looked for an alleyway. He coughed, hoping to suppress the urge to gag fully, it worked for the time being. Making it the length of two buildings, his capacity finally gave way. Another cough, an elongated one, was the first to appear. Next he leaned forward, against free will, and coughed again. Saliva production was on high and his spit hit the ground with a splat. He was frantic, he needed to turn to the side as to not throw-up in the middle of the sidewalk. The only thing available was a shrubbery. The first cough brought nothing, the second only a little. Duo paused, hoping his actions were enough to deter the nausea episode from continuing.

“Are you alright?” said a voice from behind him, startling him into letting go of his control. The little old lady gasped at the sight, “Young man?” she watched him get sick on the poor plant.

He leaned into the leaves too far and scratched one of his cheeks on a thorn. “I have food poisoning, buzz off,” he said and soaked the plant with some more ill placed water from his stomach. The old lady left as requested, he sighed. Not able to finish the sigh, he heaved once again and this time water came out with such force, it came from his nose too. “...anymore...no...” before he moved, his body retched again, and again, and a third time, causing him to make a 'punched in the gut' sort of noise. Very little matter came out. A couple dry heaves and he was done. Getting sick in public only added to his grief, as did the thorns on the bush.

Needing to turn to a shrubbery as a reciprocal was humiliating. Duo fought through the headache and pain. It made his two hour errand feel like a lifetime. Even still, Duo was glad he decided to abandon the large tin bin long ago, for walking while being so zombified, and glaring at receipts, was difficult enough to do by itself. He walked down the road, feeling his pulse beating in each limb. The pulsation was worse where his clothing was tighter, like his collar, belt and boot straps.

On the receipt in hand, he noticed a miscalculation on his budget. He was a few digits off, in the 'tens position'. "Thirty bucks," he grumbled to himself, "Then that's...one-twenty." A decent food budget for the month. It wasn't all that bad, he had become accustomed to buying on the cheap. Provided he went on a sale day, he could make the food money stretch.

The only other thing left that day was to go home, though calling it a 'home' was a stretch. Duo had asked around to some friends, seeing if anyone could put him up for a few days at a time for free. He would buy his own food and chip in with household upkeep as compensation. A lot of people graciously offered him a place to stay. Spacing all the offers out correctly, Duo was covered for the remainder of the year. Even though it was a heartfelt gesture on everyone else's part, he was still technically homeless.

The point of his nomadic nature was to pay off debt. Any money that would normally go toward room and board, went to paying off the bill collectors. Deathscythe's parts and repairs ran him into the ground, more so than he did to it, when he pushed that self-destruct button.

If he planned his money right, he'd pay off his bills and have a chance to save some money before summer vacation. Not that it was priority, but he wanted to take a trip that summer to somewhere fun. If he couldn't save, it was going to be a solid, mind numbing 'work-all-summer' kind of summer. It was 'live paycheque to paycheque' now or have a boring summer. He chose the first one.

Taking the subway was free, his student card offered him at least that grace. With blurry eyes he pawed through his wallet for his pass. Unfortunately slowed by the hangover, he took too long to get it together and allowed a large group of people to fill the line he was aiming for, their readied tickets in hand. "For cryin' out loud." Duo threw his hands up in the air in defeat. Unfortunately his student card didn't offer him the grace of cutting everyone in line. He waited 'patiently'.

The long line pushed him to the breaking point once again. "Drink water he said, great idea," Duo muttered as he trotted off to the subway car's bathroom, cursing Trowa's poorly implemented treatment all the way. 'Occupied', the door defiantly read. "Can you hurry up," he said and laid a few frantic fists on the door.

"These hand dryers take forever," came from the other side.

He huffed, nearly breathless and holding his stomach, "I'm sick! Get out or I'm going to puke in front of the door!" It was at that moment he swore he wouldn't drink again, 'Like that, anyway,' he was sure to add. He made it as far as the sink. He didn't even get a courtsey cought to signal the vomit's coming, it just came. And since Duo decided to puke in the sink, he got the chance to see himself in the mirror as he did so. he didn't look in, he just could have. He was more concerned about the splatter he made when it hit the sink. It didn't go on the floor, so he was grateful for it. He'd only braved drinking water that morning, it was only a matter of running the tap for a few minutes to wash anything away. Toilet paper pieces wiped the counter off; he tossed it in the toilet and flushed.

Picking up a handful of cold water, he drank as much as he could; his fingers grew numb from holding the freezing liquid. It was a wonderful feeling though, having that same cold hand pressed on his cheek. Dousing his face a few more times to lower its temperature, he sighed in relief. As he was leaning over the sink, he mentally kicked himself(second time that day). "There aren't any hand towels in here, are there?" He looked up through his fingers, soaking wet face and dripping bangs, "Son of a..." He forgot about why the guy before him was complaining, the blow dryer was taking forever, and it was the only thing in there to dry with, "Right." He blotted his face with the sleeve of his sweater and left to sit down, the dryer would only irritate his head more.

The usually uneventful subway car was filled with loud, first year high school students. They wore matching uniforms, with pretty skirts and boots. For once Duo didn't feel like chasing skirt; puking was very uncool and he wasn't risking any more embarrassing social encounters. Instead, he bundled his sweater near his head and tried to doze off. Numerous times the girls squawking startled him from his initial sleep like state. He figured it was for the best, they kept him up long enough to get transferred to the next car. To his dismay a chunk of them followed him, on purpose, so they could torment him all the way home. None of them did, it just really felt like it to an over sensitive Duo.

"Are you okay?" one of the many girls asked him. She laid a sympathetic hand on his back a few minutes into the trip. She had seen him on the other train going into the bathroom and kept an eye on him during the transfer.

It appeared one of the girls did follow him. "I'm sick. That's all," he said meekly.

"Do you know what is it?" she asked and examined his face. "You don't look like you have a fever."

"Nah, i-it's a hangover." He felt embarrassed even saying it, it put in such a lame position.

She nodded with concern, "I've been there. You need to drink lots of fluids." She turned behind them, "Kumi, do you still have that vitamin water? Would you be willing to part with it?" She began pointing to the seat nearest her, getting her friend to come closer.

Duo tried to be courteous, "I don't —you don't have to," he said before being handed a bottle of orange colored vitamin water by the other girl.

She took the seat right behind them, "There you go. It's got B6 and B12, you'll feel better in no time," she said and leaned over.

The first girl smiled, "That's Kumi and I'm Yumi. Yumi and Kumi, get it?" They laughed, for his sake they controlled the volume.

"Cute names. I'm Duo," he raised the bottle he'd been gifted, "Thanks a lot." He was grateful he got to drink from a bottle, having to cradle liquid awkwardly in hand or lean over a fountain while touching a sketchy looking handle, was hard on the head.

"You don't look old enough to drink. Where were you partying?" Kumi asked.

He blushed, not expecting to be grilled, "At the dinner the school had last night."

"I know what one you mean," Yumi said with a finger snap, "That was the one being held at the Peacecraft's building, on the west side, right? How'd you get in?"

"Seems odd," Kumi watched for compensation in his expressions from behind them. She didn't buy his story.

"I'm in the computer trade program and I'm a pilot; I had a special invitation," he said in a hush.

"You gotta' be kidding. You're a pilot?" She sounded skeptical.

Not wanting to reveal his identity to a bus full of girls, he quietly slipped his wallet out and flashed his picture identification card. "Just, shh~," he said weakly, "I'm not looking to talk much."

Yumi held up the picture adjacent his face and she and Kumi did a side by side comparison. "Duo..." Yumi said with regret, "You look like hell." This made Kumi snicker and fall back in her seat.

"I know that," he snipped. Snatching the wallet back he snapped it shut.

"Duo Maxwell? Hey, Kumi. Do you know who this guy is?" she said with quiet disbelief.

"Shh~" he begged with a single, tiny, quiet gesture; his finger delicately held up to his lips.

"...no," she said.

She turned around to face her friend, being sure to keep her voice low, "He's one of the gundam pilots."

"No way, you sure?" she said and gave him a better look over. "Oo~h...you do look like hell."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling well, remember," he resumed his position against the wall, feeling another 'wave' coming on. These people were stressing him out. He drank the nutritious water and tried to overcome it.

"I have something you could try, it works like a charm for me," Kumi said in a devious way.

"No way Kumi, you can't just ask if he's into that," Yumi said. Apparently she knew what her friend was talking about. "Not everyone's cool with it."

He held up a hand like the queen of England, waving it lightly, "I don't care Yumi, I'm up for anything at this point. I haven't eaten a thing all day, and if this helps, it helps," he said truthfully. His blood sugar was really low, the main reason he felt so dizzy.

"You don't have to eat anything, but..." Kumi went through her things then leaned a stealthy arm over the seat. She revealed a cigarette. "Here. It's not a cigarette though; it's pot," she said quietly.

"How's that going to help?" he wasn't saying 'no', he actually wanted a reason to say 'yes'. He felt like hell, he didn't just look the part.

"You're in pain because you haven't eaten, and you've been sick all day from the looks of it," Kumi said and pointed to his cheeks. "If you keep something down, you'll feel better."

"I'm not following you." The headache was a throbbing, he wasn't in the mood to figure out riddles.

"This gets rid of nausea. Have a few puffs, you'll be good enough to eat," Kumi said, "I don't bullshit."

They hit a rough section on the tracks, causing a loud rattle to fill the cab. Duo held his eyes, for they felt like they were being electrocuted by the sound. "Okay-okay, let's do this." He got to the point he could feel the water in his eyes shift with the turn of the track, a sign of a need for outside intervention. As was his sound reasoning; it was that or risk retching on these two.

Her friend did an eye roll, "And you're going to smoke it on the train," Yumi crouched in her seat by pulling her legs up. "I can't block you any better than this. Hurry up." It sounded like this wasn't the first time she's had to do this for her classmate.

"If we had time when stopped, I'd wait. But this is for a real life hero, he doesn't look like he'll last much longer." Kumi was obviously impressed by his status, now she knew he was for real. She brought it to her mouth and started it up.

He assumed they were rich. It was just how the rich kids in the area acted, narcissistic and manipulative. "A hero, such flattery; I wish I was in better spirits." He smiled weakly. Narcissistic or not, they were helping.

"You will be." She used a torch lighter to spark the end up, it was near silent. "Blow it out the window. Try not to cough." She slid the frame to the side, causing a slight breeze from the suction to pull her smoke out of the cab and passed it to the left.

Having been a gundam pilot for so long, he had inhaled his fair share of toxic fumes; a few intentional fumes weren't going to be a problem. He hit the joint like a trooper and blew the offending smoke away. "How long will this take to work?" He felt like he was slipping. Duo's stomach howled in pain, it made hollow sounding noises.

"A few seconds. Here, I'll do the lighter part, you position the J." They teamworked the smoke and got him a couple more puffs, until he felt something. The end went out again. "Waste not, want not. Keep that in case you need a boost later on."

"Thanks," he said and popped it in his coat pocket. They pulled in shortly after and Duo parted from his newly found contacts. He added them in his phone list and would drop them a line before the weekend. "Maybe I'll get to stay at one of their houses some day," he beamed and flipped his cell shut, pleased with the idea of a sleep over at a girls place.

Duo was amazed at how much better he felt. He got a small meal from a local deli and devoured it. Passing a small coffee shop along the way, he saw Quatre. He stopped for a drink and another bite of food with him. He was feeling light and airy the whole time, thankfully Quatre didn't notice. It was good to see him doing better too, he even expressed an interest in one of their newest employees.

Finally, he was finished with the movement portion of his day. Figuring that since he was trying to use the marijuana as a form of medicine, he best be productive while it was effective. Duo took advantage of this new found second wind; he bought some food to bring back to Wufei's, where he was staying that week. After getting an order that didn't even put a dent in his budget, he headed to the house.

It was empty. It was a mess. "Time to earn my keep," he said and got to cleaning. Since gaining enough energy in his travels, he cleaned the whole downstairs areas. Living and bathroom, kitchen and hallway. "This guy needs storage," he said and moved a stack of misfiled papers into the office, they had been misfiled on the kitchen table and behind the bread box. The office was too scary. Duo left the collected papers near the door because he feared that if he ventured in, he wouldn't come out, ever.

As he finished, so did his energy burst. He crashed on the couch, a place he would later pull out to have a semblance of a bed. Wufei may have been on top of his business, but he had no sense of organization. Duo assumed that he wasn't used to owning possessions, so his 'upkeep mechanism' wasn't something that got developed. The biggest portion of the mess was papers and receipts. It was nothing for him to handle. Nothing was thrown out that wasn't garbage, everything else was bagged and stored for sorting.

He organized everything to the point that the owner of the house thought he came into the wrong address and had to double check the number of the house. Then he thought he was robbed. A notion that quickly faded when he saw the person responsible for all of it. "Duo?" he said, hoping to hear an answer, he wasn't moving. Had the mess killed him?

"Mmm~" he said in a disconnected voice, face down in a cushion.

"It looks great, thanks. Let me guess, you cleaned up and slept most of the day?" he said and came into the living room. "Huh?"

"You have no idea," Duo said, finding it funny that people thought he had an easy life. Sure he carried on a lot, it was his escapism, but he felt it made people think he had more figured out than he did.

"What did you do all day then?" He sat across the living room from his guest, cross-legged in an arm chair, inspecting for mistakes.

Duo caught his judgmental stare out of the corner of his eye. "It started out with me running around tying loose ends with a splitting head ache and gut rot. I got sick on a sharp bush, then nearly missed the can on the first subway ride. I thendodged a mob of potential fan-girls on that same annoying subway car, only to be forced to sit with two of them when I transfered; and they wouldn't shut the hell up! Then I bought food, walked here with it and then cleaned the house of a thoughtless ass! And here we are!" His sentence was a crescendo, executed 'face down' into the sandpaper-like couch.

"Sorry...sounds rough." Wufei was at a loss for words. "...are you feeling any better now?"

"Yeah," Duo fizzled out and maneuvered his head to balance on his chin. With his arms covering most of his face he said, "I'm sleeping like this, I'll pull out the futon tomorrow." He was left to sleep, by a now humbled host, who turned the light out and tossed a blanket over top of him.
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Slice of Life