Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Whenever You Call Series: -3- What The Rain Knows ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own `em, so don't sue me!
Arc: Whenever You Call

Story Title: Step 3 - What The Rain Knows
Author: La Loba de Mibu
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, Shounen ai
Pairing: 1+2
Summary: The tragedies of Duo's life are all well known to the rain. It has always been there to witness them, and shed tears for him; because Duo has never cried a day in his life.
Word Count: +/- 3200
Author Notes: This takes place in the Whenever You Call universe. It is set several months after the fic: “Looking For Love”. Heero and Duo have been roommates that for just over a year, and are currently 18 years old. This story was inspired by the film: Dare mo Shiranai - Nobody Knows, a tragic true story. Therefore, this step is very different in tone from the previous ones.

 

 

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Prior Steps~

Step 1 -- It Starts . . .

Step 2 -- Looking For Love

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Whenever You Call -- Rain

“Should we order out tonight?” Heero asked, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to glance at Duo.

 

“Mhmm, yea. I `m feeling up for some pizza,” Duo responded with little of his usual enthusiasm as slouched in his seat, staring out the window at the slick streets of the dark rainy evening.

 

It had been pouring that morning when they headed out for Preventers Headquarters, so they took the car instead of walking as usual. The rain continued throughout the day until it was positively torrential; and by the time they clocked out of HQ, Heero wasn't walking beside Duo anymore. At least not the Duo he had come to know over the last year or so of sharing a flat.

 

Duo was okay with a few refreshing showers, or a quick powerful thunderstorm; but there was something about heavy, cold, prolonged and quiet rainstorms that flipped a switch in him, a switch that changed his cheerful smiling Duo into a listless preoccupied drone. Heero frowned blinked as the gears in his head ground to a halt abruptly. Had he his thought process just used a possessive adjective in reference to Duo? He frowned, thinking hard about the implications of that when Duo suddenly jolted up from his lazy slouch.

 

“Stop!” he shouted.

 

The cry was dripping with shock and more than a little apprehension, and as he slowed the car, Heero glanced at Duo to see him pressed against the window, shoulders tense and rigid, as he looked at something. He tried to catch what it was, but the rain was running too thickly down the glass.

 

“Pull over! Here! Hurry!” the look Duo gave him was almost desperate, and no sooner did the car stop, the braided man had opened the door and run out into the downpour.

 

“Duo!” Heero cursed, quickly parking the vehicle and pulling the key from the ignition before running out after him, “Duo! Wait!”

 

It was coming down so hard that they were soaked almost immediately, but now Heero could see what Duo had made him stop for.

 

“Patch!” Duo called as he ran.

 

The young boy running not far ahead of them skid to a stop in the middle of turning the corner, looking up at them with a pale face and dazed eyes; in his hands he held a thin clear plastic bag keeping what looked like medical supplies from getting too wet. His ragged, and tattered clothes were stuck to his body revealing how unhealthily skinny he was, and the front of one of his dirty worn sneakers had peeled away until only a thread kept it dragging alongside the boy's exposed toes.

 

“Duo! Can't stop!” the boy said quickly as and turned to run down the street again, knowing the two agents would follow.

 

They ran another two blocks in the rain, to an old rickety building; a large yellow sign on the front labeled it condemned. Ducking under the yellow tape that warned against entering the alley beside the building, they finally stopped in front of an inconspicuous side entrance, where Patch quickly banged a code. The door was opened immediately by a wide-eyed girl, with dark oily hair and dirt smudged face; she held up a flashlight.

 

“The batteries died,” she said lifelessly, her startling azure eyes doleful.

 

“Shit! Then bring `er out `ere! We'll keep the door open, use light from outside. `Ere,” he passed her the wet bag and moved passed her quickly, shoes squeaking as he hurried into the dark of the abandoned building.

 

“Blue,” Duo said catching his breath and looking worriedly at the girl, “Please, tell me what happened.”

 

“Dot,” Blue answered, voice dull, “She . . . fell.”

 

She turned away when the sound of hurried scuffling came from the other side of the darkened room. Into the small area of dim light provided by the open door, three children came into view, carrying between them a small limp body.

 

“Gimme the bag,” Patch said as he took it from the girl still holding the door open.

 

Heero watched the scene unfolding before him in a shocked detachment. Duo knelt down next to a nearly frantic Patch as he clumsily tried to bandage the limp child's bleeding head. He checked the little girl's pulse, and Heero saw the slightest twitch in his shoulders. Then Duo turned a blank face to back to Patch, gently taking hold of the boy's wrists and stopping his movements. When he spoke, his voice was incredibly soft and quiet, almost a whisper.

 

“She's dead.”

 

Heero felt ice run through his veins for a moment at the sound of those words. He had come to know these kids very well. Duo had met them in a park almost a year ago; found them digging through the garbage of recently ended Barbecue looking for scraps. The kids were fierce and proud, and wary as all hell. But as a former street rat, Duo knew just how to gain their trust, and eventually succeeded. In the past months he would hang out with them occasionally, take them something to eat, or some newer clothes, or medical supplies; and sometimes he would bring Heero along. But the kids never really liked that, none of them trusted him like they did Duo, and were happy to ignore him when he accompanied Duo on his visits. Except little Dot, she had seemed to be fond of him for some unknown reason. Now . . .

 

For many long months, Heero could not comprehend Duo's objectives with these children. He wouldn't alert Social Services, and he forbid Heero to do so as well. He never tried to directly convince them to get off the streets either, leaving Heero to flounder for the logic in Duo's actions. When he asked about it, Duo only answered to trust him, that he knew from experience what he was doing.

 

Everything else that happened from that point on seemed like a strange surreal dream to him. He stayed with Blue, who had not moved from her spot at the door, along with the boy named Hop and another girl called Tootsie; all three were silent and sullen, but none shed a tear. Duo and Patch had gone back out into the rain to look through the dumpster nearby. As he waited, he stared at the form of the still child lying nearby on the cold floor.

 

She couldn't be more than five years old. She had chocolate colored eyes, and long black hair that blue always helped her tie back with a piece of cloth. She had dimples when she laughed, and her two front teeth were long lost in a scuffle with another gang of street rats. That meant she lisped cutely when she spoke. She always called him: Mith-ter Heero, and loved the small stuffed rabbit he had brought her on impulse one day; but only after she `traded' him for it with a handful of dandelions.

 

Something constricted tightly inside his chest, until finally Heero turned away from the little corpse and walked deeper into the darkness in the direction from whence the children had come.

He waited for his eyes to adjust until he could see the outline of the kids' little camp. He felt around collection of odds and ends until he came upon what he was looking for. He heard Duo and Patch return, and as he walked back toward the group with the rabbit he had given Dot in hand, he saw them lay a large tattered suitcase on the floor. The small unmoving body was folded gently inside, and Patch moved to close it.

 

“Wait,” Heero spoke extra quietly into the mournful silence of the room.

 

He approached the makeshift coffin and kneeled in front of it, placing the small stuffed animal inside before standing back to let the suitcase be closed. He glanced at Duo momentarily, and was a little surprised to see him looking back at him; there was a small smile on his face, but it was heartbroken. The kids all stood and gathered around the suitcase, wheeling it out into the rain, while the two agents followed behind slowly. The group walked all the way back to the car and the kids piled into the back with the suitcase.

 

“Where to Patch?” Duo asked.

 

“The View, I promised to take her there someday,” the boy answered, looping an arm around Tootsie when she sniffled beside him.

 

Duo looked to Heero, and he nodded in acquiescence, starting the car and pulling back onto the road. Two hours of driving later, they arrived at the View. It was a wooded ridge to the North of the city, with a spectacular view that overlooked the entire metropolis, thus its common name. It was beautiful at night when the lights littered the landscape for miles. Now Dot could enjoy it forever.

 

The rain had not relented one bit, but regardless, the small group scrounged around the area until they found some sticks to dig with. Heero and Hop set out to collect some rocks. It took most of the night with the rain turning the soil into slippery mud, but finally the grave was filled and covered with a small pile of stones as a marker, between the roots of a large Oak on a less frequented side of the View, so as to keep it from getting trampled on.

 

They drove back into the city sad, cold, tired, wet, muddy, and silent; the fall of the rain pelting the car the only noise besides their quiet breathing. As they entered the city limits, Patch broke the silence in the car.

 

“Uh, Heero, Duo? Could ya . . . drop us off . . . at the shelter, on 42nd Street?”

 

The request took Heero by surprise, but as he glanced surreptitiously at Duo he could see the man was wearing a very small and weary version of his victory grin; and he finally understood. Nothing could have helped these kids until they wanted help themselves. But he could see in the grief that tainted what was usually one of Duo's most cheerful expressions that it had come at a terribly high price. Still, Heero did as asked, and took the quickest root to the 42nd.

 

After assurances by the shelter staff that the gloomy mud covered children would be well taken care of, the equally filthy pair of teenagers returned to the car and finally drove home. When they opened the door to their little apartment, the rain was letting up, and the cloud covered sky lighten somewhat with the rise of the sun. Heero let Duo take the shower first, even if he knew that meant he would take up most of the hot water. When the man walked out an hour later, damp hair neatly re-braided, wearing an oversized t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms that pooled around his feet, Heero silently handed one of his hoodies to Duo as he headed towards the bathroom for his turn. Duo paused for a long moment, staring at the comfortable garment that he hadn't had to sneak out of Heero's room for the first time, before looking up at Heero with one of the most truly grateful smiles Heero had ever witnessed.

 

“Thanks, `Ro,” but the voice that spoke did not sound like Duo's; thick and slightly hoarse.

 

It troubled him all through his shower as he scrubbed his skin free of the dirt and grime of the night's morbid chore. It sounded almost as if . . . Heero shook off the disturbing thought as he shut off the quickly cooling water. Just under the rustling of his towel a strange sound came from somewhere outside the door, and it made Heero pause in his movements. He listened for a second, and heard nothing out of the ordinary. But as he started dressing he heard the noise once again, and again. Worried, Heero quickly finished up and stepped out of the bathroom. The sound was loud and clear now as he stepped into the hall. He followed it warily until he arrived in their tiny kitchen and witnessed a sight that left him speechless and immobile.

 

The awful sound was coming from Duo . . . and he was crying.

 

For a moment, Heero was at a loss; he had never once in all the time he had known Duo seen or heard the boy cry before. But now the young man stood in the kitchen looking very small in his oversized clothes, trembling violently with the sobs that racked his body as he searched with difficulty through the spice rack they had long ago designated to store all their OTC drugs and prescription meds. Duo was trying valiantly to hold still long enough to read the labels, but was failing miserably. The floor creaked loudly under Heero's weight as he stepped forward, but he froze again when Duo's face whipped up to face him. Teary eyes wide with surprised, and bangs plastered to the wetness on his face.

 

“Heero!” he croaked, and took a hitching breath that turned into a sob despite his best efforts; he made a visible effort to try and calm himself so he could talk, but was forced to blubber in the end, “I—I can't . . . stop. I n—need . . . W—where are . . . the sedati—”

 

He didn't bother trying to finish, instead turning away as if ashamed of being caught in such a state of vulnerability, and clumsily trying to sort through the bottles now spilled on the counter; accidentally knocking down a small brown paper bag with his elbow. It tipped over as it hit the floor, spilling its contents. Heero saw what they were and his heart became heavy as he watched Duo bend down to pick one up.

 

It was a handle full of white and red colored boxes, which contained inside them a kind of sweet fruity candy that Dot had absolutely loved. Duo had bought them the other day, but opted to wait until the weekend to bring them to her; now it was too late. That uncomfortable constricting feeling he had gotten while staring at Dot's lifeless body returned, and worsened when Duo's trembling hand wrapped around one of the boxes shook harder with the same realization.

 

“Oh God—” with a heartrending sob, Duo dropped the box and collapsed the rest of way to his knees on the floor.

 

Instinct took over, and before he knew what he was doing, Heero was across the kitchen and on the floor beside Duo, carefully taking the shaking man into his arms. He leaned his back against the cabinets and pulled Duo closer, holding him tightly, but not breathing a word. Even if he could speak around the strange lump in his own throat, he wouldn't know what to say. What could he say? So he remained silent and simply held his shaking partner for as long as it took.

 

Ever so slowly, Duo calmed until he was only hiccupping against Heero's wet shoulder and the rain outside had turned to a light drizzle. Heero let him go hesitantly when Duo pulled away sniffling and wiping away the bangs stuck to a wet cheek with a sleeve.

 

“Sorry . . .” his voice was stuffy.

 

Heero reached up to the counter for some napkins and passed them to Duo, who took them with a mumbled thanks and blew his nose noisily, before tossing the napkins into the trash across the room. His face was a deep red as he looked at the floor and fiddled with his hands, and Heero realized belatedly that Duo was really truly embarrassed. He'd never seen the other man embarrassed around him before; it seemed very wrong.

 

“Hey,” Heero called softly, and patted the floor beside him when Duo looked at him out of the corner of tear-swollen eyes.

 

After a moment's hesitation he moved next to Heero, pulling his knees up close and resting his chin on one. He pulled his braid over his shoulder and nervously played with the end, still refusing to look directly at his partner. He seemed drained, exhausted almost, and depressed. It wasn't a look that suited him. Before he could think twice about it, Heero scooted closer; putting his arm around Duo's shoulder and bringing him flush against his side. Duo looked surprised but didn't resist, opting instead to rest his head on Heero's shoulder heaving small sigh that thankfully no longer hitched. They stayed like that quietly for a long time before Duo spoke.

 

“Sad things . . . always happen when it rains,” his voice was soft and scratchy.

 

“Hn,” Heero agreed noncommittally.

 

“It rained the day Solo died. Father Maxwell, and Sister Helen too . . . now Dot . . . The rain has known it all.”

 

Heero didn't say anything, knowing the names from Duo's stories about his life on L2. He'd always suspected that they ended badly, although Duo had never said so. Now he knew for certain, and finally understood what it was about the rain that changed him so awfully.

 

“I've never cried before . . . for any of them . . . ” he snorted a bit bitterly, “Guess it hit me all at once.”

 

Heero nodded and squeezed his shoulder, trying to comfort and reassure silently; he didn't know what else to do. Then his eyes fell upon the spilled candy boxes within reach and he picked two of them up, passing one to Duo. Violet eyes watched him, curiously as Heero opened the box one handed, gesturing for Duo to do the same. Duo shifted slightly so he was resting more comfortably against Heero's side, and opened his box as well, rattling it to see the multicolored sweets shift inside. Heero held up his box and studied it for a moment.

 

“To Dot,” he said finally, holding his box in front of Duo's.

 

Duo stared at it for a long time, face unreadable. Finally he gently bumped his box with Heero's, making his own soft toast.

 

“To what the rain knows.”

 

They tipped their heads back and brought the boxes to their lips, filling their mouths with the candy. As they sat on the kitchen floor, quietly eating Dot's favorite sweets, the rain outside finally stopped, and the clouds parted to let the sun shine through.

 

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--Owari--