Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Authenticity ❯ Authenticity ( One-Shot )

Authenticity

By trivia_game ^^ yay, I love seeing my name in print!

Summary: Years after peace has been achieved, Duo wonders if anything is real anymore. Someone shows him that there are things that still come straight from the heart. Shonen ai, 2+4, angst, sap (?), sad Duo ;_;

Disclaimer: Eh, not mine…yet. Mwehehehehehehe…

Duo Maxwell watched the rain splash the window of the tiny restaurant blankly. His expression was gray, mimicking the bleak smeared clouds that rolled dully past the window. Mechanically produced, of course. Was nothing real now? Even the cliché storms that would be so perfect were manufactured by humans and machines.

The ex-pilot smirked lightly, a ghost of his former smile flooding pale features. Dimly, he wondered if anything was real anymore. He glanced down at the table, wrapped loosely by a checkerboard cloth. The tarnished glass that was half-emptied of the water he'd ordered almost an hour ago reflected an ashen face drowning in violet eyes. He knew well enough that he wasn't real. Assembled, one could say, with four other little boys with guns.

With a sigh, Duo glanced up and wondered where his food was. It was just another day on L2, apparently, and the waiters seemed to find no reason to give him food on time, ex-pilot or not. The digital numbers that flashed with the time up on the wall had blinked from 8:30 to 9:58 in a flash for the numbed young man. Numb. What a lovely way to put it.

The bell above the door rang, a system of alerts that hadn't changed in centuries. Inexorably, Duo looked up. What he saw made him blink.

The whole colony could have crashed down, and Duo wouldn't have flinched. He was focused on the young man who had just walked in. He could have believed the would-be stranger to be younger than him, but those eyes told of years spent seeing things even Duo could never even imagine.

"Quatre?"

The weary blonde looked up at the sound of his name, and his eyes widened when he saw the husk of his friend, hunched over the countertop and staring in awe at him. What had happened to him?

"Duo?"

Quatre couldn't even be sure. There was the familiar heart-shaped face, and the wide violet eyes. Even the same frayed brown braid hung over one shoulder, trailing across the tabletop. But those gorgeous eyes were ringed with black smudges, telling of a lack of sleep, and the nimble hands that had saved so may people were now bony and limp. "Duo…I…." Quatre didn't know what to say. Instantly though, he found himself beside 02, clutching at one of those now-frail hands desperately, as though he was trying to hold Duo back from whatever Hell he was falling into.

"What are you doing here?" Duo asked, outwardly blank. Inside, he was grinning like an idiot. He knew Quatre shouldn't be here, and that meant something terrible was in tow, but that he was seeing the tiny blonde, an old friend and comrade who shared something the people here in L2 could never understand, he was thrilled.

"I…" Quatre was so absorbed in disbelief and sympathy, that he missed the question. "What?"

"What are you doing here?" the darker one repeated, acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Quatre's hand. He wondered if he wanted to know what news Quatre had brought with him. It wasn't like the wealthy boy, ex-Gundam pilot or not, to venture down into the pits of L2. Then again, once the other pilots had left him, he'd come down.

"Oh…"

Quatre's eyes clouded. "I wanted…I needed to see you."

The pudgy waitress chose that moment to appear with a platter of cool food, setting it down neatly enough that she must have thought her tidiness made up for the stone-cold pasta and the hour-and-a-half Duo had been out here. Sort of ironic. Something like cold spaghetti could make him want to fucking kill himself, after he'd survived his teenage years in a death machine. But something so stupid could still made him think of things that should be left in the grave. Go figure.

"Bitch," Duo grumbled with a half-grin at the woman's retreating, limping form.

Quatre didn't want Duo to look away from her. He didn't want Duo to see him. He didn't want to have to continue. But, like he always did, Duo caught the hesitance and began to wring the words out of him in just a look. If he'd befriended Heero, he could get anything from anyone.

"Duo…" he sighed, "we're…I'm worried about you." He didn't want to sound like he knew better than he did, but there was a cold fear that wormed in his stomach every time he'd heard Duo's name. He couldn't stay away anymore. "You're alone here. You left Hilde in the dust, and refused the money." Quatre felt his throat closing in already. "You look so empty…"

Duo felt a layer of ice crawling up his skin. He looked at Quatre disdainfully. "Quatre," he said coldly, "I don't need your help."

This only brought the tears to Quatre's eyes, and he clenched his jaw shut, willing them back. "Duo, please, I'm begging you. Come back. With me."

Duo smirked lightly, feeling his humanity dripping away with the sound of the pathetic imitation rain that pulsed against the concrete and metal outside. "Does it matter?" he asked seriously, holding Quatre's eyes. "Quatre, what do you expect from life? It's all fake now. You oughta know that."

Quatre opened his mouth to retaliate, flinching slightly at those dismal words, but Duo gave him a glance that froze anything he wanted to say in his throat.

"Quatre, you're a wonderful human being," Duo went on. "You deserve light. You shouldn't be out here. Everything here is pounded out of machines. Go back to wherever you belong."

Duo didn't doubt it-Quatre belonged somewhere better. Somewhere where life was authentic. While a part of him screamed at him to let the young man stay, he knew that there was somewhere he should be. Duo had changed. He would only hurt him.

Quatre was crushed by the waves of emotion that were crashing down on him. "Duo…you are so real." His voice shook. Now that he had had a real glance into Duo's world, he couldn't let him stay here. He had to get Duo to come back with him. "You're a good person, a true person. You need to come back with me. You're dying here." He looked pleadingly at Duo. "Come to a place where things are genuine."

"Nothing is genuine."

The icy statement tore through Quatre. Couldn't he see what he was doing? Duo couldn't be oblivious to the pain he was causing. He would never want him hurt…would he? But with an internal sigh, Quatre pressed on, desperately.

"What would it take for you to come with me?" he pleaded. Quatre would give him anything. Everything. The stars, the Earth, his own breath.

Duo thought for a moment. You can't honestly be considering going with him! A voice was screaming at him. You'll hurt them all. It was true-he could just see it, Quatre's smiles dropping away like petals off a rose. May as well make this difficult.

"Show me something real."

Beneath the frigid tone, there was a silly hope. If anyone could find something that was real, it was Quatre.

"Real?" Quatre held his breath, wondering what he could do. Duo wasn't teasing. It scared him.

"Real. Something machines and manufacturers could never make."

"I…"

Real…

Quatre adjusted himself on the seat, and glanced shyly over at Duo. Real. He leaned over the table and caught those thinned lips in a warm, soft kiss.

Duo's eyes never closed. He watched the mild blush that spread over Quatre's cheeks and felt everything. He didn't let this moment slip by. It was something real.

Quatre broke away, hoping. He'd wanted to do that for the longest time. "That…was real."

Duo watched the blonde pilot with consideration. Slowly, he leaned over the table and mimicked Quatre's actions, this time more heated, less questioningly. He skipped a tongue across the youth's lips, and felt his mouth open slightly. Over the checkerboard-patterned tablecloth, Duo shared something with Quatre. He hadn't shared something in the longest time. One of Quatre's hands slipped under the braid and held Duo's shoulder to steady himself. The desperation made this so much sweeter.

When they separated, Duo whispered something softly to Quatre. "You're real."

Quatre was almost afraid of asking-he couldn't lose Duo again after that. Timidly, hopefully, he asked, "Will you come?"

Duo smiled, a burst of real sunlight from behind the fake clouds. "I will."

The cold spaghetti was left on the table as Duo walked out, feeling layers of metal and plastic peel from him. He had real light now, with its arms wrapped around his waist and smiling. He had Quatre.

They left L2 that night, catching the first way out, and heading straight for Quatre's nearest home. They weren't pilots anymore. That wasn't real, it wasn't who they were. They were just themselves. That was the truth. So were the kisses, the smiles, the bond between their held hands, and the emotion Duo felt breaking through his surface. As he glanced out of the window beside Quatre, he remarked the imitation clouds parting. You could impersonate the grays all you wanted, but every time the sun shone, he noticed, it was for real.