Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Sticks and Stones ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Author: Aravis Tarkheena

Pairing: 2x1 (Duo/Heero)

Warnings: AU, angst, melodramatic Heero >.>;; violence, abuse, mention of attempted NCS (nothing bad don't be scared), yaoi ( duh )

Disclaimer: Not mine

Rating: R

Chapter Four

Two days later J was in jail without enough money to put up bail. Mr. Maxwell collected the few things Heero owned from his old house. They put him up in the guest room. It was a large spacious room with sloping ceilings and pure white walls. There were pictures on the flat walls of ducks and fish and wildflowers. Heero loved the room.

The Maxwells told him that he could do what ever he liked with the room. They said he could paint it any color (except black or other really dark colors because they said it would make the room look smaller), and he could put posters up on the walls and get news sheets for the bed that were all his own.

It was a far cry from his old room in the basement of J's house. His dark room with no windows that always seemed cold and damp. This was so different. So nice. So safe.

Duo was wonderful too. He promised not to tell anyone at school about what had happened. He said he would tell the teachers that Heero was out because of a broken arm he had gotten from falling out of a tree he was climbing. Duo swore never ever to tell. Heero trusted him.

The only real change up was Duo's little sister Claudia. She was like a smaller version of Duo, only noseier and horribly precocious. She seemed to never leave Heero alone, and when she wasn't directly bothering him she was playing music too loud, or watching the TV with the volume so high they could hear it all over the house. Heero was pretty sure he had the script to Muppet Treasure Island memorized, and though it was an admirable film, Heero liked to take his Muppets in small doses as opposed to large daily doses forced on him by a four year old monster.

Heero thought he would love it at the Maxwell's, but it took a lot of getting used to. He didn't get the privacy he was used to with J, or maybe that wasn't privacy, maybe it was neglect. In any case, Heero was not used to so many people focusing their attention on him and only him. Mrs. Maxwell made him feel welcomed, and even Mr. Maxwell made a great deal of effort to help Heero get adjusted.

Heero liked Mr. Maxwell, he was a nice person, but Heero didn't like to be around him alone very much. It seemed that whenever he caught Mr. Maxwell looking at him, he always saw pity in the man's eyes and Heero hated it. It was as if he thought that Heero couldn't take care of himself. That wasn't true. Heero could have fought back. He just learned through experience that fighting back made things worse, because the next time it wouldn't have been just J he had to fight.

Despite all of that things were progressing pretty well until one day after school Heero was in his room doing homework on his laptop. Mr. And Mrs. Maxwell came into his room together.

"Heero can we speak with you please?" Mr. Maxwell asked.

"Yes." Heero said and turned away from the essay he was writing on his laptop.

"Heero, I was speaking with Officer Stevens yesterday and J will be taken to trial very soon. They want you to testify against him."

Heero looked at Mr. Maxwell. "Can't they use the transcripts of the statement I made to Jim back at the hospital?"

Mr. Maxwell took a deep breath. "Yes they can, however they seem to believe that it will make a bigger impression on the jury if you are the one to tell the story."

Heero was silent for a time; he closed his eyes and then opened them again, looking around the room that these people had given him.

He had kept the walls white, but had taken down the pictures and added some posters he had hidden away. The sheets on his bed were a deep blue and very soft and warm. There was a tree outside the window and because it was fall the tree's leaves were yellow and the light that filtered in though the window was a mellow golden color softening the lighting in the room.

Heero had a beanbag chair in the corner and the desk was cluttered with his homework. The bookshelves were filled with all of the books he had managed to accumulate over the years, along with a few comic books he had a secret passion for. Heero was pleased with the effect. It looked nice. Normal. Heero wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to stay here.

"Yes." He said, still not looking at the Maxwells. "I'll do it."

Mr. Maxwell looked relieved. "That's good." He came over and put a hand on Heero shoulder. Heero started and almost pulled away. He still was not comfortable with physical contact, but he really didn't want Mr. Maxwell to know that. He looked away, back to his laptop.

"I have homework I need to complete." Heero said in a voice that lacked all inflection or emotion.

Mrs. Maxwell's reflection in Heero's computer monitor looked hurt, and Heero almost wished that he hadn't been so harsh with his words. He watched as the Maxwell's reflections left his room and he sat there staring at the screen.

Heero knew at one point he would have to face J again, but he wasn't looking forward to it, and he hadn't expected it to be so soon. He really didn't want to see J. In truth he was scared. He was terrified that the jury wouldn't believe him and he would have to go back to that horrible house, and sleep in that cold room, and he would always be scared again. He had nightmares about it. He dreamed that what happened with the Maxwells was all fake, and that he woke up again one morning in his cold damp room and J was screaming at him. Drunk again. Angry again. Mean again. Violent again.

And then the fists would come, and the other men. The other men with their big hands. Those hands that grabbed and hit and tore at his clothes as he tried desperately to get away. He would dream of those hands and wake up with the scent of his own fear filling his nostrils and his blankets and clothes drenched with sweat, blinded by his own terror. He would feel sick to his stomach and so scared. So scared.

But he would open his eyes again and see his room. His nice room with it's white walls and posters and windows and comfortable chairs. He would look around and see he wasn't in that room, in that house. He would smell the lingering scent of last night's dinner, mixed with the spicy smell the Maxwell house always had. The smell he equated with Duo. He would see his room, and smell his house, and get out of his bed. He would untangle himself from sweat-dampened sheets and pad barefoot though this clean warm house.

He would silently open each of the doors starting with Mr. And Mrs. Maxwell's. He would look in on them wrapped in each other's arms as they slept peacefully, dreaming their dreams and he would feel a little bit better. Then he would go to Claudia's room, her room always smelled faintly of sweets and her favorite shampoo that smelled like grapes. Her room was cozy with its purple walls and stuffed animals scattered all over every available surface. He would step a little inside so he could see her curled in her bed, arms around a huge stuffed bear named Daniel that Duo had gotten her for her birthday years ago. She loved that bear most of all. He would smile as he watched her sleep, so innocent and young, her sleep devoid of nightmares.

Last Heero would go to Duo's room. Duo's room was his favorite. It was always a little bit messy no matter how much his mother nagged him. The walls were a light green color and almost entirely covered with posters of bands or his favorite soccer players. It was smaller than Heero's room, but Duo said he liked it that way, "More cozy and less to clean up" he would say with a grin "even though it's never clean anyway." Heero would make his way across Duo's floor, carefully picking a path though the scattered clothes and books and cds. He would watch his footing until he reached the side of Duo's bed, then he would look up from his bare feet and stare at Duo, sleeping in his bed. Then he would kneel down by Duo's bed and take Duo's braid into his hand and feel the thickness of the silky hair, clench it in his fist, careful not to pull. Heero would sit there for a while and just watch Duo breathe as he slept. Totally at peace. Totally comfortable. Totally happy.

And Heero would feel better. He would be scared anymore. The memories of those men's rough hands on his skin would fade, and his mind would fill with only Duo.

Then Heero would climb into Duo's bed and lay next to him, and Duo would stir and look at Heero sleepily and smile. Then he would throw the covers over Heero and wrap his arms around him and fall back to sleep. And Heero would feel safe, and he would fall back to sleep in those strong arms that he knew would keep him safe. Surrounded by the scent that was only Duo.

Heero loved that feeling more than anything else in the world, the feel of Duo's arms around him late at night. It felt like they were the only two people in the universe, and Heero would be happy.

But early in the morning, before either Duo or his mother woke up, Heero would come out of his sleep and unwrap Duo's arms from around him, and he would pad softly back to his room, and climb into his now cold bed. The happiness he felt lingered, but it was tempered with sadness. He wished he could wake up with Duo, and see Duo smiling down him every morning, instead of sneaking back to his own bed like a paranoid lover, afraid that he might be caught.

Heero didn't know what the Maxwells would say about his nocturnal activities, he was a little worried that they would be angry. He knew that Duo wouldn't be though. He knew that Duo wouldn't mind.

However, Duo never mentioned it to Heero, he never once asked him why he slept in his bed sometimes. Heero wasn't sure if it was because he didn't remember Heero coming into his room, or if it was because he didn't want to embarrass Heero. In either case Heero would have preferred knowing where he stood.

He sighed and roused himself from his reverie. He looked back at his computer and continued to work on his essay. Not matter what was going to happen with J Heero still had homework to do.