Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Fly on Broken Wings ❯ Conversing with Duo ( Chapter 5 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Violet_Nyte 
thanks priscel for pointing out the typo, which was corrected
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Psychological / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.14.2004 | Updated On: 04.15.2004 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.2K | Visits: 1.0K | Status: Work In Progress
thanks priscel for pointing out the typo, which was corrected
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Psychological / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.14.2004 | Updated On: 04.15.2004 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.2K | Visits: 1.0K | Status: Work In Progress
LSE // 3-26-04
(Fly on Broken Wings - Chapter Five: Conversing with Duo)
rated: R - language, content, violence
shounen-ai/yaoi
Conversing with Duo
-
At first there was only darkness and silence. He floated in oblivion, keeping careful distance from the too dark corners that held pain and sorrow. After what could have been an eternity or a second, the black faded to grey and Quatre stood in the family room of his father's home, facing a semicircle of people.
Directly in front of him, his father sat in the tall, black leather chair from his office. Next to him, his eldest sister sat in a smaller version of the same chair. On his father's other side, the back of a pale blue rocking chair faced Quatre, and his heart thudded ominously in his chest as the sight of the achingly familiar women seated in the chair, only the back of her head and shoulders visible.
His other sisters completed the ring, and, as he approached, they closed in around him to make a circle. Quatre walked forward, mindful of his father's angry glare. Vera, his oldest sister, looked indifferent as she balanced a little girl on her knee. His niece stared at him with cold blue eyes, and Quatre felt an icy chill down his spine.
Still, he walked towards the rocking chair. "Mother?" he called, hesitating just an arms length away. "Mother?"
No one answered, and his family's stares drove daggers into his back. "Mother!" he cried, reaching out to grab her shoulder. The material of the dress compacted under his hand, and she collapsed in the chair, reduced to mere fluttering of cloth and hair. Quatre cried out as nothing but a cloud of dust rose from where he mother had been.
"You killed her!" Vera whispered fiercely, and her daughter echoed the cruel accusation.
"You took my wife!" his father spat in disgust.
"Mother's gone, and it's all his fault!" his sister wailed, some of the younger ones sobbing with grief.
Quatre began to cry as well, turning in a circle as he searched for a friendly face. "It's not my fault! Please -- father!"
Hard eyes answered his pleas, "You are no son of mine."
"No! No!"
"Hey, Quatre!"
"It wasn't me! I --"
A hand clamped firmly over his mouth, ending the hoarse cries. Quatre sobbed, still half asleep and trying to forget the nightmare. "Hey," said a soft voice above him, and Quatre opened his eyes to find darkness all around. He squirmed, panicked, but the hand on his mouth pressed tighter. "Quiet, or they'll come knock you out again. Okay? Hey, you're okay now. If I let go of you, will you be quiet? Yes?"
Quatre nodded slowly, having finally recognized it as Duo. Cautiously, the other boy removed his hand, and then sighed in relief when Quatre remained quiet but for the fading sobs. "Duo...?" he questioned, wondering if fright if the blackness was just for him. Quatre recognized the feel of the bed around him, and also that, although tucked in, he still wore all his clothes, save his shoes.
"It's dark in here with a window. Here," Duo offered, shifting to sit on the bed. There was a click, and then a soft light flooded the room. Duo hastily set the flashlight against the covers so that only a pale, muted light remained.
Sitting up in the bed, Quatre wiped away salty tears and avoided Duo's curious gaze, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "How did I get here?" he whispered, hugging thin arms around himself. He felt Duo's eyes searching his face, but did not look up.
"You started freaking, so they knocked you out."
"I did?" Quatre turned his head away. "What time is it?" he muttered, peering around the dark room.
"Almost four, I guess," Duo glanced at his watch, and then lowered it closer to the flashlight for confirmation. "You gonna go back to sleep?"
"I'm not really tired," Quatre admitted, curling tighter and watching Duo carefully. The boy wore a half grin, a mixture of concern and amusement and, despite the late hour, seemed wide awake. "I'll be quiet so you can sleep," Quatre assured him, reaching around in the covers for Sandrock.
"Hm? What's wrong, Quatre? You've gone as pale as milk."
"I can't find Sandrock," he whispered, starting to panic.
Duo frowned, "Sandrock? Oh, your bear."
Quatre nodded miserably, taking the bed apart in his frantic search. Firm hands grabbed his, stopping the search as Duo made a soothing sound, "Hey, it's okay. You had him in the cafeteria, right? You must have dropped him there at the nurse's station. In the morning we'll go ask, okay?"
"What if they threw him out? What if my dad told them not to give him back?" Quatre hugged his knees and buried his face into them, shivering trembles that had nothing to do with the cold.
Duo frowned in thought, "He's that important to you?"
The blond nodded, tears starting to well in turquoise eyes.
"Okay, then!" Duo bounced upright and patted the younger boy's knee. "You just wait here."
"Duo?"
"White with a black ribbon, right?"
"Duo!" Quatre hissed in a whisper, looking anxiously around the room.
"Relax, I've snuck out hundreds of times. I'll be back before you know it. Sandy safe and sound," he winked and was gone before Quatre could further object.
Sitting there alone, Quatre noticed the odd shadows on Duo's side of the room. Carefully, he picked up the flashlight and aimed the beam to the other bed. He gasped softly, amazed at the sight before him. Stacks of papers covered the bed along with books and, in the center, a small electronic keyboard.
Quietly, he crept off the bed and went over to peer down at the scrawlings on the papers. Page after page of musical notations and sheet music stared up at him, all of it in what he assumed to be Duo's messy handwriting. Columns of lyrics framed sketches of all sorts, and Quatre moved the flashlight over the bed to find an open box of oil pastels.
"He's an artist," Quatre breathed, admiring the talented drawings. One caught his eye, and he reached out, hesitantly pulling it out from under a blank sheet. To his surprise, his own sleeping face lay on the page in a rough pencil sketch. A few lines of poetry were in the corner, and Quatre lowered the flashlight to read them.
From light and shadow, a heart undiscovered
A fragile trust is building, yet you cry
Fallen angel without the
The poem ended there abruptly, and Quatre felt a burning shame at invading Duo's privacy this way. 'I'll leave your junk alone if you stay away from mine,' Duo had said. The words chased Quatre away from the bed, and he hurriedly climbed back into his own. Maybe if he asked Duo the boy would share some of his drawings and songs. Quatre wondered if the boy sang any of the songs he wrote, or if he just created them.
Thinking of how Duo had captured his sleeping form so perfectly, Quatre had to acknowledge the boy was talented, and reflected on the tragedy that Duo was stuck here, instead of out in the world sharing his works.
He jumped as the door started to open and quickly flicked the light off, burying under the covers. Listening carefully, he caught the faint sounds of someone coming in, and then the door closing. Quatre closed his eyes tightly as the person approached his bed, but snapped them open when a soft fur brushed his cheek. "Sandy!" he breathed, reaching out to clutch the bear close, breathing in the faint smell of lilac and roses.
"Safe and sound," Duo announced quietly, "just as promised."
"Oh, thank you!" Quatre sat up and offered the flashlight out blindly, knocking it against some part of Duo. With a short laugh, the other boy put his hand over Quatre's and flicked the light on before taking it away. Heart in throat, Quatre watched as Duo settled himself on the bed amid all the scattered projects. Would he notice one out of place and know Quatre had been snooping?
"So," Duo said softly, but with good humor, "I'll ask again, do you scream like that often?"
Hugging Sandy, the small blond sat upright and shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."
Duo raised an eyebrow, but let the subject drop. "Well, I hope Meiran didn't startle you too much. Better her than Trieze, though."
"Is Trieze bad?"
Duo laughed, "Not really, he's just different. A complete opposite of Meiran or Wufei, in some ways. Don't worry, you'll get use to them. Just don't let Trieze get you off alone."
"What? Why?"
Duo changed the subject without real effort, "I think Trowa likes you. He doesn't like very many people. Not that he's mean or anything, he's just a bit... reserved."
"I like your friends," Quatre said softly, blushing furiously. "Even Wufei, and Meiran, too. How long have they been like that?"
Duo shrugged, "Never asked, I guess. They don't always wants to talk about the past. Most people with multiple personalities get 'em because of childhood trauma, you know."
Quatre's eyes widened and he hugged his bear closer. Flashing an odd grin, Duo picked up a notebook and searched around for a pencil. After a moment of silence, Quatre broke it with another question, "Why does Trowa not say anything? He isn't -- I mean... could he talk if he wanted to?"
"Oh, I imagine so," Duo said carefully without looking up from writing. "He hasn't always been a mute. About nine years ago he just stopped talking. Cathy told me once. Well, actually, she was crying it to Trowa and I happened to over hear. 'Nine years and you won't even say why!' she said. Poor Tro, he just looked at her. Maybe he's forgotten how to talk, or he lost his voice so long ago he can't ever find it again. Who knows.
"But don't let it bother you; he'll talk in his own way if you listen. You've already figured it out, though, haven't you? I'm kind of surprised. He just stares at the doctors, or looks at the walls. Won't even nod or shake his head at them, but he'll carry on conversations with me and Wufei like he does, without words and all. I guess that's a good thing, because a guy can't say nothing forever. Everyone needs friends, even Trowa."
"I'll be his friend," Quatre whispered, too soft for Duo to hear. Again he wanted to tell Duo about how Trowa had talked to him, but Quatre held back, not even sure why. Something told him to keep Trowa's secret, and so he did.
Determined to keep the silence filled, Duo looked up briefly before turning his attention back to the notebook. "How do you like it here in Hel'? Sucks, doesn't it? What was that clinic like?"
"Clinic?"
"Your charming father mentioned that you'd been at a clinic before this. I've told you my life story, so let's here yours." Quatre knew he owed Duo some explanation, but the words stuck in his throat. Sensing the other boy's distress, Duo waved a hand at him to dismiss the question. "Don't worry, we all have our shadows. Say what you want or say nothing at all, I don't care. I'm friends with Tro, aren't I? I can do enough talking for two people."
Quatre braved a smile, "I noticed."
His roommate tilted his head to one side, looking at Quatre with a wide grin before laughing so loudly Quatre nearly shushed him. Duo quieted on his own, however, and went back to his writing. Curiosity overcame caution, and Quatre lifted his head as if trying to see what the other boy was working on. "What are you writing?" he asked ingenuously.
"A story," Duo glanced up with a sly smile. "Just a little story."
"Oh? What is it about?"
"Betrayal, murder, illicit love affairs, heart-break. I'm channeling Poe, it seems."
Quatre smiled, "May I read it? When you finish, that is."
"No," Duo said shortly, moving some papers aside. "I don't let anyone read them. They're just short stories anyway. I can never write anything longer, like a novel," the boy sounded sad for a moment, but quickly brightened. "It's nothing personal. I just don't let people read my stories."
"Oh."
"You can read some of my poetry, if you want. I wrote songs, too. I'm just a mongrel artist, it seems." Duo grinned proudly, waving a hand at the scattered projects around him. "I draw, paint, and sculpt. I write stories, poems and songs, but I can't do algebra or cook."
Quatre blinked in confusion, and then smiled, "You can't cook?"
"I managed to ruin pop tarts."
"I've burned them before," Quatre confided. "It's easy to do."
"It burst into flames and broke the toaster, which fell off the counter and nearly took off Heero's foot." Duo looked thoughtful for a moment, "Heero was pretty upset about that." Quatre opened his mouth to ask who Heero was, but Duo spoke again before he could. "You got any talents?"
Slowly, Quatre shook his head, but then hesitated and nodded instead. "I can play the violin."
"Fantastic! I stick to guitar and keyboard, and I've heard Trowa can play the flute, but I've never seen him do it. We've got a music room, which is where my guitar stays. They count it as a potential weapon and say I can't have it in the room, but I think that's just to try and motivate me to earn points. I never have enough to get into the music room unless Dickie takes us."
"Who?"
Duo blinked at him, then cracked a impish grin, "You've not met Dickie? Oh, you're lucky. Maybe you'll get someone else for group. He's really Doctor Richards, but I call him Dickie just to piss him off. They'll give you a schedule tomorrow, because you'll have an individual therapist and a group therapist. Me, Wufei and Trowa are all in the same group; it's how I met them. I thought Trowa was my hero for just staring at the ceiling while Dickie quacked, but turned out he just did that to everyone. Wufei struck me as a real bore until he showed up as Trieze. That was great.
"But that's all you'll have unless they give anything extra. Wufei sees a specialist three times a week, and Tro's got his thing twice a week. I don't have anything except a double session on Fridays."
Quatre started to nod, but gave a long yawn instead.
"Sleepy?" Duo asked brightly, still wide awake.
"Aren't you?"
"I don't sleep. My mind works the best at night and it'd be a shame to waste all that creativity. I'll turn the light off if you want to sleep. I see pretty good in the dark."
"You haven't slept all night?" Quatre's eyes widened in disbelief.
"All week, pretty much."
"Duo! That's not healthy."
To Quatre's surprise, the grin vanished and Duo glowered darkly, the light snapping off without warning. "What do you know?" he growled into the darkness, the sound of shuffling papers punctuating the furious words. "Go to bed."
Wounded, Quatre sunk down under the covers, nuzzling Sandy close. He hadn't meant to upset Duo. Across the room, from the darkness, he could hear the scritch, scritch of pencil across paper, punctuated by occasional paper shuffling. Quatre couldn't even see Sandy in the dark, but Duo could see enough to write?
"Goodnight, Duo," Quatre whispered softly, rolling away and shifting Sandy closer.
The younger boy had already fallen asleep by the time Duo paused his pencil and turned the flashlight back on, a bit of sheet muting the pale light. On the paper, a second sketch of his roommate skewed slightly to one side, but otherwise gave no indication that the artist had not been able to see his work. Instead of sleeping, the boy of the paper stared out from the drawing, large eyes a window to a deeply troubled state of mind. Duo chewed thoughtfully on the end of his pencil, then jotted down a quick bit of poetry.
The turquoise waters
Convey the sorrow inside
and offer no hope
"Night, roomie."
-
-
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Notes: Whew! This one's long! Oh, well. I'll type as much as I can tonight, but otherwise you'll have to wait until tomorrow!
I hope you like the story, and yay for reviews!
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated!
copyright 2003 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.
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LSE - Violet Nyte (VioletNyteML@yahoo.com)
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(Fly on Broken Wings - Chapter Five: Conversing with Duo)
rated: R - language, content, violence
shounen-ai/yaoi
Conversing with Duo
-
At first there was only darkness and silence. He floated in oblivion, keeping careful distance from the too dark corners that held pain and sorrow. After what could have been an eternity or a second, the black faded to grey and Quatre stood in the family room of his father's home, facing a semicircle of people.
Directly in front of him, his father sat in the tall, black leather chair from his office. Next to him, his eldest sister sat in a smaller version of the same chair. On his father's other side, the back of a pale blue rocking chair faced Quatre, and his heart thudded ominously in his chest as the sight of the achingly familiar women seated in the chair, only the back of her head and shoulders visible.
His other sisters completed the ring, and, as he approached, they closed in around him to make a circle. Quatre walked forward, mindful of his father's angry glare. Vera, his oldest sister, looked indifferent as she balanced a little girl on her knee. His niece stared at him with cold blue eyes, and Quatre felt an icy chill down his spine.
Still, he walked towards the rocking chair. "Mother?" he called, hesitating just an arms length away. "Mother?"
No one answered, and his family's stares drove daggers into his back. "Mother!" he cried, reaching out to grab her shoulder. The material of the dress compacted under his hand, and she collapsed in the chair, reduced to mere fluttering of cloth and hair. Quatre cried out as nothing but a cloud of dust rose from where he mother had been.
"You killed her!" Vera whispered fiercely, and her daughter echoed the cruel accusation.
"You took my wife!" his father spat in disgust.
"Mother's gone, and it's all his fault!" his sister wailed, some of the younger ones sobbing with grief.
Quatre began to cry as well, turning in a circle as he searched for a friendly face. "It's not my fault! Please -- father!"
Hard eyes answered his pleas, "You are no son of mine."
"No! No!"
"Hey, Quatre!"
"It wasn't me! I --"
A hand clamped firmly over his mouth, ending the hoarse cries. Quatre sobbed, still half asleep and trying to forget the nightmare. "Hey," said a soft voice above him, and Quatre opened his eyes to find darkness all around. He squirmed, panicked, but the hand on his mouth pressed tighter. "Quiet, or they'll come knock you out again. Okay? Hey, you're okay now. If I let go of you, will you be quiet? Yes?"
Quatre nodded slowly, having finally recognized it as Duo. Cautiously, the other boy removed his hand, and then sighed in relief when Quatre remained quiet but for the fading sobs. "Duo...?" he questioned, wondering if fright if the blackness was just for him. Quatre recognized the feel of the bed around him, and also that, although tucked in, he still wore all his clothes, save his shoes.
"It's dark in here with a window. Here," Duo offered, shifting to sit on the bed. There was a click, and then a soft light flooded the room. Duo hastily set the flashlight against the covers so that only a pale, muted light remained.
Sitting up in the bed, Quatre wiped away salty tears and avoided Duo's curious gaze, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "How did I get here?" he whispered, hugging thin arms around himself. He felt Duo's eyes searching his face, but did not look up.
"You started freaking, so they knocked you out."
"I did?" Quatre turned his head away. "What time is it?" he muttered, peering around the dark room.
"Almost four, I guess," Duo glanced at his watch, and then lowered it closer to the flashlight for confirmation. "You gonna go back to sleep?"
"I'm not really tired," Quatre admitted, curling tighter and watching Duo carefully. The boy wore a half grin, a mixture of concern and amusement and, despite the late hour, seemed wide awake. "I'll be quiet so you can sleep," Quatre assured him, reaching around in the covers for Sandrock.
"Hm? What's wrong, Quatre? You've gone as pale as milk."
"I can't find Sandrock," he whispered, starting to panic.
Duo frowned, "Sandrock? Oh, your bear."
Quatre nodded miserably, taking the bed apart in his frantic search. Firm hands grabbed his, stopping the search as Duo made a soothing sound, "Hey, it's okay. You had him in the cafeteria, right? You must have dropped him there at the nurse's station. In the morning we'll go ask, okay?"
"What if they threw him out? What if my dad told them not to give him back?" Quatre hugged his knees and buried his face into them, shivering trembles that had nothing to do with the cold.
Duo frowned in thought, "He's that important to you?"
The blond nodded, tears starting to well in turquoise eyes.
"Okay, then!" Duo bounced upright and patted the younger boy's knee. "You just wait here."
"Duo?"
"White with a black ribbon, right?"
"Duo!" Quatre hissed in a whisper, looking anxiously around the room.
"Relax, I've snuck out hundreds of times. I'll be back before you know it. Sandy safe and sound," he winked and was gone before Quatre could further object.
Sitting there alone, Quatre noticed the odd shadows on Duo's side of the room. Carefully, he picked up the flashlight and aimed the beam to the other bed. He gasped softly, amazed at the sight before him. Stacks of papers covered the bed along with books and, in the center, a small electronic keyboard.
Quietly, he crept off the bed and went over to peer down at the scrawlings on the papers. Page after page of musical notations and sheet music stared up at him, all of it in what he assumed to be Duo's messy handwriting. Columns of lyrics framed sketches of all sorts, and Quatre moved the flashlight over the bed to find an open box of oil pastels.
"He's an artist," Quatre breathed, admiring the talented drawings. One caught his eye, and he reached out, hesitantly pulling it out from under a blank sheet. To his surprise, his own sleeping face lay on the page in a rough pencil sketch. A few lines of poetry were in the corner, and Quatre lowered the flashlight to read them.
From light and shadow, a heart undiscovered
A fragile trust is building, yet you cry
Fallen angel without the
The poem ended there abruptly, and Quatre felt a burning shame at invading Duo's privacy this way. 'I'll leave your junk alone if you stay away from mine,' Duo had said. The words chased Quatre away from the bed, and he hurriedly climbed back into his own. Maybe if he asked Duo the boy would share some of his drawings and songs. Quatre wondered if the boy sang any of the songs he wrote, or if he just created them.
Thinking of how Duo had captured his sleeping form so perfectly, Quatre had to acknowledge the boy was talented, and reflected on the tragedy that Duo was stuck here, instead of out in the world sharing his works.
He jumped as the door started to open and quickly flicked the light off, burying under the covers. Listening carefully, he caught the faint sounds of someone coming in, and then the door closing. Quatre closed his eyes tightly as the person approached his bed, but snapped them open when a soft fur brushed his cheek. "Sandy!" he breathed, reaching out to clutch the bear close, breathing in the faint smell of lilac and roses.
"Safe and sound," Duo announced quietly, "just as promised."
"Oh, thank you!" Quatre sat up and offered the flashlight out blindly, knocking it against some part of Duo. With a short laugh, the other boy put his hand over Quatre's and flicked the light on before taking it away. Heart in throat, Quatre watched as Duo settled himself on the bed amid all the scattered projects. Would he notice one out of place and know Quatre had been snooping?
"So," Duo said softly, but with good humor, "I'll ask again, do you scream like that often?"
Hugging Sandy, the small blond sat upright and shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."
Duo raised an eyebrow, but let the subject drop. "Well, I hope Meiran didn't startle you too much. Better her than Trieze, though."
"Is Trieze bad?"
Duo laughed, "Not really, he's just different. A complete opposite of Meiran or Wufei, in some ways. Don't worry, you'll get use to them. Just don't let Trieze get you off alone."
"What? Why?"
Duo changed the subject without real effort, "I think Trowa likes you. He doesn't like very many people. Not that he's mean or anything, he's just a bit... reserved."
"I like your friends," Quatre said softly, blushing furiously. "Even Wufei, and Meiran, too. How long have they been like that?"
Duo shrugged, "Never asked, I guess. They don't always wants to talk about the past. Most people with multiple personalities get 'em because of childhood trauma, you know."
Quatre's eyes widened and he hugged his bear closer. Flashing an odd grin, Duo picked up a notebook and searched around for a pencil. After a moment of silence, Quatre broke it with another question, "Why does Trowa not say anything? He isn't -- I mean... could he talk if he wanted to?"
"Oh, I imagine so," Duo said carefully without looking up from writing. "He hasn't always been a mute. About nine years ago he just stopped talking. Cathy told me once. Well, actually, she was crying it to Trowa and I happened to over hear. 'Nine years and you won't even say why!' she said. Poor Tro, he just looked at her. Maybe he's forgotten how to talk, or he lost his voice so long ago he can't ever find it again. Who knows.
"But don't let it bother you; he'll talk in his own way if you listen. You've already figured it out, though, haven't you? I'm kind of surprised. He just stares at the doctors, or looks at the walls. Won't even nod or shake his head at them, but he'll carry on conversations with me and Wufei like he does, without words and all. I guess that's a good thing, because a guy can't say nothing forever. Everyone needs friends, even Trowa."
"I'll be his friend," Quatre whispered, too soft for Duo to hear. Again he wanted to tell Duo about how Trowa had talked to him, but Quatre held back, not even sure why. Something told him to keep Trowa's secret, and so he did.
Determined to keep the silence filled, Duo looked up briefly before turning his attention back to the notebook. "How do you like it here in Hel'? Sucks, doesn't it? What was that clinic like?"
"Clinic?"
"Your charming father mentioned that you'd been at a clinic before this. I've told you my life story, so let's here yours." Quatre knew he owed Duo some explanation, but the words stuck in his throat. Sensing the other boy's distress, Duo waved a hand at him to dismiss the question. "Don't worry, we all have our shadows. Say what you want or say nothing at all, I don't care. I'm friends with Tro, aren't I? I can do enough talking for two people."
Quatre braved a smile, "I noticed."
His roommate tilted his head to one side, looking at Quatre with a wide grin before laughing so loudly Quatre nearly shushed him. Duo quieted on his own, however, and went back to his writing. Curiosity overcame caution, and Quatre lifted his head as if trying to see what the other boy was working on. "What are you writing?" he asked ingenuously.
"A story," Duo glanced up with a sly smile. "Just a little story."
"Oh? What is it about?"
"Betrayal, murder, illicit love affairs, heart-break. I'm channeling Poe, it seems."
Quatre smiled, "May I read it? When you finish, that is."
"No," Duo said shortly, moving some papers aside. "I don't let anyone read them. They're just short stories anyway. I can never write anything longer, like a novel," the boy sounded sad for a moment, but quickly brightened. "It's nothing personal. I just don't let people read my stories."
"Oh."
"You can read some of my poetry, if you want. I wrote songs, too. I'm just a mongrel artist, it seems." Duo grinned proudly, waving a hand at the scattered projects around him. "I draw, paint, and sculpt. I write stories, poems and songs, but I can't do algebra or cook."
Quatre blinked in confusion, and then smiled, "You can't cook?"
"I managed to ruin pop tarts."
"I've burned them before," Quatre confided. "It's easy to do."
"It burst into flames and broke the toaster, which fell off the counter and nearly took off Heero's foot." Duo looked thoughtful for a moment, "Heero was pretty upset about that." Quatre opened his mouth to ask who Heero was, but Duo spoke again before he could. "You got any talents?"
Slowly, Quatre shook his head, but then hesitated and nodded instead. "I can play the violin."
"Fantastic! I stick to guitar and keyboard, and I've heard Trowa can play the flute, but I've never seen him do it. We've got a music room, which is where my guitar stays. They count it as a potential weapon and say I can't have it in the room, but I think that's just to try and motivate me to earn points. I never have enough to get into the music room unless Dickie takes us."
"Who?"
Duo blinked at him, then cracked a impish grin, "You've not met Dickie? Oh, you're lucky. Maybe you'll get someone else for group. He's really Doctor Richards, but I call him Dickie just to piss him off. They'll give you a schedule tomorrow, because you'll have an individual therapist and a group therapist. Me, Wufei and Trowa are all in the same group; it's how I met them. I thought Trowa was my hero for just staring at the ceiling while Dickie quacked, but turned out he just did that to everyone. Wufei struck me as a real bore until he showed up as Trieze. That was great.
"But that's all you'll have unless they give anything extra. Wufei sees a specialist three times a week, and Tro's got his thing twice a week. I don't have anything except a double session on Fridays."
Quatre started to nod, but gave a long yawn instead.
"Sleepy?" Duo asked brightly, still wide awake.
"Aren't you?"
"I don't sleep. My mind works the best at night and it'd be a shame to waste all that creativity. I'll turn the light off if you want to sleep. I see pretty good in the dark."
"You haven't slept all night?" Quatre's eyes widened in disbelief.
"All week, pretty much."
"Duo! That's not healthy."
To Quatre's surprise, the grin vanished and Duo glowered darkly, the light snapping off without warning. "What do you know?" he growled into the darkness, the sound of shuffling papers punctuating the furious words. "Go to bed."
Wounded, Quatre sunk down under the covers, nuzzling Sandy close. He hadn't meant to upset Duo. Across the room, from the darkness, he could hear the scritch, scritch of pencil across paper, punctuated by occasional paper shuffling. Quatre couldn't even see Sandy in the dark, but Duo could see enough to write?
"Goodnight, Duo," Quatre whispered softly, rolling away and shifting Sandy closer.
The younger boy had already fallen asleep by the time Duo paused his pencil and turned the flashlight back on, a bit of sheet muting the pale light. On the paper, a second sketch of his roommate skewed slightly to one side, but otherwise gave no indication that the artist had not been able to see his work. Instead of sleeping, the boy of the paper stared out from the drawing, large eyes a window to a deeply troubled state of mind. Duo chewed thoughtfully on the end of his pencil, then jotted down a quick bit of poetry.
The turquoise waters
Convey the sorrow inside
and offer no hope
"Night, roomie."
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~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Notes: Whew! This one's long! Oh, well. I'll type as much as I can tonight, but otherwise you'll have to wait until tomorrow!
I hope you like the story, and yay for reviews!
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