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Remember When Arc	By : Ashley Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1409 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Title: Remember when arc- chapter 6 of 'Life loves a
tragedy'

Authors: Sparkling Diamond PG-SSM & Saiyajin_Raven69

Archive: AFF, MM, FF, PG's Vault. Anywhere else...just ask.

Category: Angst, Drama

Pairings: 2+5 for the moment, 1x3x4 established

Rating: R working it's way to NC-17 in places

Warnings: Language, angst, lemons in later chapters. Set after EW.

Spoilers: Some here and there.

We do not own the rights to GW, never have and never will!

Part six of 'Life loves a tragedy' by Sparkling
Diamond PG-SSM & Raven Layne

< <
A chorus of voices shouting their names brought the soul-felt
kiss to a premature end, and the couple that had been sharing it back to
reality. Heero and Duo abruptly broke their embrace, and turned toward their
gaping friends. Wide, surprised eyes danced rapidly from one face to the next,
as Duo registered the pain and confusion found on all four expressions. Hurt
was especially poignant in the two sets of eyes riveted on Heero.

The braided teen made a low noise in the back of his throat, and
threw his arms around his ex-lover, burying his face into Heero's neck.
Achingly familiar hands stroked his back for a few silent moments, allowing
him to calm his frazzled nerves, and to catch his breath, before they moved to
his shoulders to pull him away from the warmth of the embrace.

Heero guiltily dropped his gaze from the speechless audience
surrounding them, and looked down at the boy who was clutching at the front of
his tear-dampened blue shirt. He felt his heart clench painfully when he saw
the love and longing in the expressive indigo eyes locked with his. Duo's
entire countenance radiated hope and joy, as he smiled adoringly up at the
lover that he had never intended to abandon so many long months before.

"Oh gods, Duo." Heero whispered, wiping a bit of blood
from the teen's chin, left there from his own split lower lip. He released the
young man who had been his first love, and stood abruptly, turning his back to
him. With head down and eyes tightly shut, his entire body shuddered where he
stood.

"I can't, Duo. I just can't do this." His voice
quavered, as he felt he was being strangled by the agony deep in his heart.
"Trowa and Quatre�"

He couldn't finish speaking; his throat refused to function. He
felt, rather than saw, Duo crumple behind him. The devastated teen fell
forward on his elbows, his forehead resting on a gnarled root protruding from
the grass at the base of the maple tree.

With shaky legs, Heero began his retreat to the long black car;
for the second time that morning he felt the need to escape. His steps
faltered when he heard the mournful wail rising from the very soul of the
young man that he was walking away from. He turned slightly, taking in the
heart-rending sight of the broken boy on the ground. He raised one hand toward
him, reaching out as if to offer comfort, when that hand was captured in an
iron grasp, and his arm was painfully wrenched behind him, wrist threatening
to break.

He found himself forced against the side of the limousine, an
incensed Chinese teen savagely twisting his arm in an unnatural angle that,
were he anyone other than Heero Yuy, would have broken bones.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Yuy?" Wufei
growled as he wrenched the wrist harder. "Haven't you done enough? You
fucking caused the death of his child, are you trying to do him in, too?"

The blue-eyed boy stood quietly, his head bowed to rest his
cheek against the cool surface of the car's roof. He didn't struggle, or
attempt to defend himself. In the years that had passed since his
unconventional training, his physical strength was still much greater than his
Chinese compatriot's. They both knew that he could break away easily if he put
his mind to it, but he had neither the desire, nor the energy to fight.

Wufei spun him around, and was taken aback by the suffering
clearly written deep within stormy blue eyes. He was stunned to see tears
slowly coursing down the face of the young man whom he'd always thought felt
nothing; who possessed a heart of ice. His anger abated when he saw the deep
sorrow on the other boy's face, and he released him cautiously.

"Please," Heero said hoarsely, clearing his throat and
licking his lips before continuing. "Leave me be. I'm not worth the
trouble. Go make sure he's okay."

Wide-eyed and rather dumbfounded, Wufei nodded wordlessly, and
slipped away from Heero. He quickly turned, and went to join Hilde and Quatre,
who were trying to comfort the shaking ex-pilot.

Trowa stood alone near the front of the long black car, his gaze
shifting from the sorrowful display beneath the tree, to the conflict between
one of his lovers and one of his closest friends. He was loathe to intrude on
either scene, and waited until one or the other had resolved itself. When
Heero opened the car door and slipped inside, Trowa took the opportunity to
join him.

The tall boy walked to the other side of the car, opened the
door, and slid onto the leather seat beside the young man who was slumped into
the corner, eyes closed, rubbing his recently abused wrist. Trowa lifted his
arm, and placed it on the back of the seat behind Heero's shoulders, lightly
resting his hand on the back of the dark head. They sat quietly together for
many long moments, before Trowa broke the silence.

"I'm listening."

Heero sighed heavily, and rubbed his face with both hands.
"Give me a few minutes. I need to get my head straightened out before I
can talk about it." He turned his head, his pained eyes meeting concerned
green. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Trowa nodded. "I'm here, Heero. Take as long as you
need."

Closing his eyes and leaning his head back once again, Heero
sighed deeply, thankful that it was the more taciturn of his lovers who had
joined him in the car. He didn't think he could handle the ball of emotion
that was Quatre Winner at the moment. His relief was short lived, however, as
the door opened once again, and a blond flurry entered the passenger
compartment of the limousine.

Quatre sat directly across from Heero and Trowa, on the bench
seat facing the rear of the car. His body language shouted his agitat l louder than a megaphone, as he leaned toward them with his elbows on his
knees, and his pale brow furrowed over burning blue eyes.

"Would you care to explain what happened out there,
Heero?"

"Not now, Quatre." Trowa warned softly, squeezing
Heero's shoulder. "Give him a minute to figure it out for himself, before
going at him with both barrels."

The blond businessman took a deep breath, and settled himself
back against the dark leather seat, his gaze never leaving his Japanese lover.
He ran his fingers through his hair as he exhaled slowly, attempting to calm
his own nerves, while still being affected by the strong swirl of emotions he
was being buffeted with from those that he held closest in his heart.

The dark haired boy finally opened his eyes, not lifting them to
meet either of his companions. He licked his dry lips, still tasting blood on
the lower one, before speaking with a voice thick with barely repressed tears.

"He never meant to leave me. Not permanently." He
cleared his throat, and wiped brusquely at a trail of water that had escaped
his eye. "He was confused. He didn't know what to do with his life. He
was an alcoholic, you know. He left to get cleaned up, but he was going to
come back."

Quatre gasped. Duo hadn't been in touch with any of the pilots
after his disappearance, and when he did finally get in contact, Heero had
already been taken in by the former pilots of Sandrock and Heavyarms. He
recalled well Duo's phone call, nearly a year after he had deserted Heero.
Trowa had been with him at the vid-phone, and had told the braided boy that
the one he had left behind was now living with them, and he had made it
perfectly clear what the arrangements were. There was no room for confusion
over the relationship between the three former soldiers.

Quatre remembered the brief moment of disbelief and despair that
had passed over Duo's face, before he slipped into his old joker's fa�ade,
and quickly ended the call. The blond now wished that he had pressed the issue
at the time; that he had gotten in touch with Duo to find out exactly why he
had left. Maybe some of the pain that the two former lovers had gone through
in the past two years could have been avoided. Quatre would never wish away
the time that Heero had spent in the embrace of his and Trowa's love, but he
did wish that he could take away some of the heartache that had transpired in
the years since the last war.

He knelt on the floor in front of Heero, taking both of his
hands.

"He still loves you, Heero." He said quietly, finally
drawing the sharp blue eyes to meet his own. "And you still love
him."

A sob escaped the throat of the normally impassive youth, as his
shoulders sagged under the comforting arm of his green-eyed love. He jerked
his hands away from Quatre, and covered his face with them as his entire body
began to shudder with the enormity of the months of inhibited anguish. It
seemed as if all the misery and dejection that he'd suppressed since Duo had
abandoned him finally found its release, in a long black car, in a picturesque
cemetery. He was mourning the death of his first love, as surely as the boy
he'd loved was mourning him just outside the window, beneath the graceful
shelter of a maple tree.

Tears slid down the pale cheeks of the young man sitting on his
heels in the floor of the car, as the green-eyed boy on the seat bowed his
head, fighting down his own pangs of sorrow. Both boys knew that they were at
a turning point in their relationship with their third. Neither would dream of
keeping Heero from returning to Duo, if it was what would make him happy, but
likewise, neither of them wanted to think of that possibility. As
unconventional as their arrangement may have been, the three of them were
together out of genuine love for each other, and both felt that if Heero left,
he would take part of their hearts with him.

As Heero's tears began to slow, Quatre pulled his hands away
from his face, and held the damp palms against his chest, clutching them to
his rapidly beating heart.

"Heero, I think you have a decision to make." He
started quietly, staring into stricken blue eyes. "Do you want to go back
to him?"

The Japanese boy's eyes turned toward the window, and gazed
sadly at the scene under the maple tree. Duo was slumped in Wufei's arms,
looking for all the world as if he were unconscious, the anguish of the day
having obviously exhausted him. Hilde sat beside the two former pilots,
stroking Duo's hair softly, with rivulets of mascara streaking down her face.

"I've failed him." Heero whispered. "At every
turn, with everything I've ever done, I've let him down."

Trowa cleared his throat, before speaking in a voice hoarse with
repressed emotion. "How do you mean, Heero? How did you fail him?
He's the one who left you."

Thick dark hair became even more tousled as Heero shook his head
harshly, his eyes glancing from Trowa to Quatre and back again, searching for
understanding.

"Don't you get it?" He asked in a voice that sounded
foreign to his own ears, for all its desperation. "He left because he
needed help that I wasn't giving him! I didn't know what to do, so I just
ignored the problem, and thought it would go away! But *he* went away, and I
didn't have faith enough in him that he would come back! He told me today that
when he had found his path in life, and was ready to come back to me, I had
already moved on without him! I gave up on him!"

"Heero�" Quatre started, before being interrupted.

"He just confused the hell out of me, you know?" Heero
said despondently, his mood changing in a moment from frantic to somber. He
sat back against the seat, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
"He would never leave me alone. During the first war, he was just always
there, always wanting to be with me, even when I was nothing short of an
asshole to him. He'd touch me�no one had ever touched me before,
unless it was to inflict pain. I didn't understand. He'd put his arm around
me, or he'd touch my hand, or even ruffle my hair. It drove me crazy, because
I couldn't figure out what he wanted from me; I couldn't figure out why he
would want to touch me, or even be around me."
- 6
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- 8
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