***
Trowa, having expressed his disdain for ever touching the Japanese pilot again suitably to th other pilors, watched as Wufei slid his arms under the girl's damaged body, and carried her back to the infirmary to tend to reopened wounds and the newest realisation of her injury in the groin. The Chinese pilot had not said a word regarding his likely embarrassment, but simply accepted that he would be the one to give medical care, lifted Heero and stalked from the room, leaving Duo arranged as if asleep on the couch.
Trowa finished his tea, watching Quatre surriptiously, then stood to leave, the silence laden with confusion and pain. Quatre looked up from reverie, and saw him readying to go back to his room, whether for sleep or reflection it was unknown.
"Trowa," the gentle Arabian called out softly. Trowa accidentally met his eyes, a burning expression of longing and hope evident in his verdant gaze before being swept away with the mask once more. Quatre blinked, sympathy and unacknowledged desire to forgive this man, who was his and completed him, yet he had so violently attempted to remove from his heart, obvious in his own visage. He scowled at himself, then continued, "Heero needs our help, not our hatred. I think...I think I can forgive her, accept her. That's really what she needs now - to know we know, and we accept her nonetheless."
Trowa's eyes narrowed, and he nodded, considering the possible couses of action as if it were a battle, perhaps for the detachment of the mindset, or simply because he could not bear to think of Heero in any other fashion, Quatre could not fathom. "I'll tell Wufei to put her under suicide watch and restrain her appropriately. We won't want her to escape or hurt herself further before we can tell her," He snapped, as if disgusted by even speaking of her. His voice also seemed bitter, longing and self-loathing hinted at in that pained tightness of his throat before the Latin boy strode out of the room.
Quatre sighed, not even realising he had, as he stared after his exit. He returned his attention to the one that had been given his charge by default, and smiled indulgently at the American passed out on the room. He crept to Duo's side, and stroked his face and hair, evoking murmurs and much squirming until the pilot finally awoke, sitting up quite abruptly. The American gasped, and his eyes shot open, glancing wildly about the room before settling his gaze on Quatre's steady form.
Duo shook for a second before clutching at Quatre's arms, and looking down. His voice was small and full of confusion when he spoke. "That really happened, huh? Heero's a girl..." Duo said quietly, his low voice pained. Quatre nodded dumbly, and replied, "Aa, it looks that way. I don't really know how to react to this. How are you doing?" He smiled, pouring his best hostly concern for his friend into his words.
Duo shook his head, and sighed, "I don't know either. I mean, I want to be happy, because that means we could really be a couple, and my religion...but I feel absolutely awful for that, y'know? Like somehow it would be less between us if he - anou, she really was a boy. And yet, also, I gotta support her, so she doesn't continue hurting herself. I feel really bad about that, because I kinda feel like this is my fault, and I gotta somehow fix it or something. I *don't* want her to feel like I'm still with her, if she even wants me anymore, just from pity and not wantin' to see her hurting herself any further, God knows she's done enough of that already."
Duo paused for breath, and Quatre watched him, waiting for him to continue. His sea green eyes slid closed slighty, shifting to the side as he considered what his friend had said, and scratched at his arm in bitter remembrance. The American smirked before he spoke, a cynical little quirk of his lips so similar to rarity of Heero's own thin mouth. "I still love her, y'know. And I'm hoping that she'll care that I don't." Quatre blinked, drawn from his reverie as he let Duo's words sink in, then nodded, smiling slightly. The braided pilot coughed to cover his thoughtful silence wieghing so heavily in the room, then queried, "Saa, Quatre-kun, whaddya gonna do about Tro-kun, hounto ni? You can't just ignore him forever, the guy still loves you."
Quatre looked sharply at the relaxed boy, then attempted to glare. Duo merely rolled his eyes in response, and snickered, "Ya gotta do better than that, I date Heero after all." The chuckle turned dark, and he murmured, "At least I hope I do, still." Quatre nodded his understanding, and exhaled softly.
"I'm still so upset with him, I keep wanting to stay mad, but I really can't. I still love him, as wrong as that is, and I want him back even if purely for selfish reasons, but...but I want to know why. I don't think I can handle that right now, yet I still want to know," Quatre answered softly, his voice barely reaching Duo's hearing, yet more resounding for their lack of volume. The American, eerily silent, smiled and rubbed the blonde's thin shoulder.
"I think, Quatre, that right now what we need to do is sleep. Sleep on the decisions, and rest from all the strange surprises of tonight. Tomorrow, I think you'll be ready to know. You're so much stronger than you think. But now, sleep," Duo advised quietly, standing and stretched his arms. Quatre nodded, and followed the other boy from the room, pausing to see Trowa and Wufei speaking quietly outside the infirmary. The Latin boy's shielded eyes gave him no solace, but the Arabian smiled slightly, a sad longing mimicking the same from Trowa's own expression minutes ago. Startled pleasure flooded the emerald gaze just as Quatre turned down the hallway towards his room, halfway across the complex.
***
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