“Where is he?  Where did he go?  Do you know?”  All his questions revolved around Duo, and Cressida, who was trying to be supportive, was having an
increasingly harder time biting her tongue.

Finally, after being asked “Where is he?” for the 15th time in 22 minutes (literally; she had counted) she snapped, “I don’t know, Heero!  By the Gods!”

Heero glared sullenly at her but then dropped onto the couch.  “I should have told him,” he muttered.

Cressida was silent, staring pensively at the dark tv screen.  For the 23rd time that night (yes, again, she had sadly enough counted) she wondered, <Should I tell him?  Does he need to know...?>

Heero sighed, dropping his head into his hands.  “I don’t understand.  I was so happy to see him and then... he was so angry... and then he was gone....”  Heero’s voice was still mostly calm but the pure agony of heartache had finally won through his barriers, and the pitiful sound that was created proved to be too much for Cressida to stand anymore.

“Heero...” she said uncomfortably into the waiting silence, wishing immediately she hadn’t spoken so she could continue to pretend this hadn’t happened.

Heero looked at her sharply when he noticed the tone of her voice.  “What.” He said flatly, suspicion coloring his voice, making it more a demand than a
statement.

Cressida avoided eye contact.  “There are some things you should know....”

Heero’s walls were back in place as his cold, monotonous voice inquired, “Like what?”

Cressida hesitated.  What would he say when he heard?  What would happen? Would he kick her out?  She glanced up nervously, just in time to catch the
fear and pain dancing in his Prussian eyes.  Smacking herself inwardly, she reprimanded her selfish preoccupation and vowed to help in any way possible.   Even if it meant she would be kicked from the only home she had right now.   “Duo... I think he... misinterpreted some things....”  She trailed off unhappily.

Heero’s eyes narrowed.  “Like what?” he said menacingly.

Cressida completely avoided eye contact now, finding her hands suddenly extremely interesting.  “I—well—I mean, I can’t be sure, but—“

“_What_ did he ‘misinterpret’, Cressida?” Heero said in a low, almost hissing voice.

Cressida winced.  “I... think he thought you were involved....”  Heero was silent and Cressida slowly looked up.  His eyes were ablaze with anger—no, fury—but also hurt and regret and confusion.  She continued immediately, “He may have thought we were together but something made it seem like that wasn’t the only thing.”

Heero scowled.  “Why the hell would he think that?!”

Cressida slid her eyes closed.  “I honestly have no idea.  Who else would he be angry at you being with...?”

Heero replayed the entire scene with Duo as he said thoughtfully, “I don’t know.  I’ve never showed interest in anyone and no one did in me except Rel—“

Heero groaned loudly as he heard Cressida say softly, almost wonderingly, “Relena....”

Heero let out a frustrated sigh.  “I haven’t seen her forever!  Why wouldn’t he just ASK us these things instead of assum—....?”  Heero cut himself off in irritation, letting his words hang heavily in the air.

Cressida let the moment stretch and was tempted to stay quiet but forced herself to open her mouth again.  “Umm…  Heero...?”

Heero looked over at her in trepidation.  He didn’t like that tone at all. “What?” he asked suspiciously.

“There’s... something else....”  Cressida bit her bottom lip and fidgeted, watching her hands again.

Heero slid his eyes closed and leaned back into the couch.  When would it end...?  “What.” He stated wearily.

“Duo... well... I mean...  He isn’t....”

“_What_, Cressida?”  Heero’s patience was wearing thin.

Cressida sighed heavily.  “He’s... not who he was when he left.”  She felt better having said it but it didn’t make her feel any easier about explaining.

Heero frowned and peeked an eye open.  “What’s that supposed to mean.” Again, the flat statement that couldn’t or wouldn’t progress to a question.

“Well... with the world... nothing exists alone.”  Cressida took in a deep breath and looked Heero in the eyes before she could lose her courage or he got anymore suspicious of her presence.  “It’s the same with Dreamers.  When we were created, our counterpart was created as a balance.  The Nightwalkers.”

Heero opened his other eye and sat up.  “What are you trying to say...?”

Cressida sighed heavily.  “Look....  In the world of the Dreamers, I was basically Princess.  My father had been the Sandman for as long as I remember, which is a very long time, and my mother, like most of her sisters, was a very prominent Dreamweaver.  When she and my father married, she held the title of Dreamweaver until I was old enough, when they gave it to me.”

“I thought there were several Dreamweavers,” Heero protested, taking in this information as he tried to understand the situation exactly.

Cressida looked at him, startled that he remembered that detail. “Well—yes, there are several.  A Dreamweaver simply oversees his or her group of Dreamers and is responsible for reporting any troubles to the Sandman.  But our group, our tribe, was special because from within came the Sandman.  So being Dreamweaver was especially important for us, and when my mother passed it on to me, it was the greatest honor imaginable.”  Her expression grew distant as she thought back on the happy times.

“What does this have to do with Duo?” Heero interrupted.

Cressida sighed.  “You young people have no concept of history.  There is always a background.  Always.”

Heero cast her a strange look at being called young but he chose not to comment.  Instead, he stood and walked to the large windows facing down, staring out broodingly.  “Keep talking.”

“Some of the groups got a little... out of hand... like I told you when I mentioned them stealing even children for their energy.”  She paused, disturbed.  Heero was as well but he didn’t show it.  Soon, her voice calmly filled the air again.  “Next to nothing is known about the Nightwalkers because they had differing powers than ours.  While we had complete control of dreams with minor in physical, they were opposite.  It was said the Nightwalkers could mold reality as well as we molded the Dreamland.”

Heero frowned, watching the lights from outside play on his reflection on the smooth glass.  The sky was crimson and rose turning into the deepest of violets as the midnight sun set against the horizon.  The violet of the evening sky was exactly the tint of Duo’s amethyst eyes when he got an especially mischievous idea.  Heero closed his eyes heavily, leaning his forehead against the cool windowpane.  “And...?”

Cressida was quiet a moment, but then finally found her voice again.  “At one point when I was younger, I was extremely curious, so I did some investigating.  Like I said, I was a Princess more or less, so I got special access.  But even the extensive libraries of the Sandman had little to nothing recorded on the Nightwalkers, and I honestly don’t know why.  But as I was searching I _did_ come across something rather interesting.”  She spoke with a slightly more urgent tone.  “It turns out there is one thing about Nightwalkers well-known to us Dreamers, though little else is.”

Heero frowned.  “What is that?”

Cressida’s voice was soft but firm when she continued.  “Nightwalkers have control over the mind of a person awake as much as I have over a person asleep.  One of their basic... tricks?  Spells?... is a special shift of the mind’s eye.  They... basically tell your mind that you don’t see them, and so you don’t.  They can do the same with anything.  Voice.  Smell.  But not touch... that is too complicated.”

Heero looked through the reflection to see the back of Cressida’s red-brown head as she leaned forward.  “You’re avoiding something, Cressida.”

Letting out another deep breath, the former Dreamweaver turned in her seat until she was facing Heero head on.  “I saw Duo disappear, Heero,” she whispered.  “He’s...  He’s a Nightwalker now.”

Duo was curled on his side, letting the cool of the air freeze him until he felt as though he was no longer alive.

If he ever had been.

He didn’t bother getting dressed again after Serafim had left the room following their....

Duo narrowed his eyes.  <Sex.  It’s not lovemaking.  It’s sex.  A fucking session.  Get over it.>

Duo closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.  “This sucks,” he groaned very softly.

A soft chuckle caught his attention, so he looked up.  Serafim was looking at him with amusement in his bright green eyes.  Although a serious man at heart, the Russian had always tried to lighten up and joke when he was in Duo’s presence.  It was a gesture that had softened Duo to him, knowing how often he had wished for Heer—

Duo scowled, forcing himself to ignore that name.  To ignore everything about that damn idiot.

Serafim looked startled at the transition from a quiet, sleepy-looking Duo to one who was glaring with a deadly glint in his jeweled eyes.  Clearing his throat, he said softly, “Do you plan on getting dressed?  It’s been hours....”

Duo looked over at Serafim dully then shrugged, wincing when the sheets ran deliciously over his shoulders at the movement.  With a soft groan he swung his legs to the side of the bed and pushed himself up.  “Yeah.  Sure.” Completely uncaring of Serafim’s eyes on his naked form, Duo lazily slipped into a loose, deep crimson long sleeved shirt and a pair of semi-tight black leather pants.  Keeping the top three buttons unhooked on his top, Duo automatically reached behind himself to pull his hair in front to rebraid it.

Too late he remembered.

No braid.

Even that had been taken from him....

Narrowing his eyes, Duo instead ran his hand through his bangs—the only thing of his hair that had stayed exactly the same.  “Yeah?” he said with a sigh.

Serafim pursed his lips.  “Stop acting so depressed, Duo.  That guy’s not worth it.”  He moved as if to cross the room and probably pull Duo into some sort of embrace, but the spiky-haired Nightwalker narrowed his eyes and sent him a warning glare.

Look but don’t touch.

Duo volleyed between opening his legs willingly and cringing from the thought of Serafim in his vicinity almost constantly.  It was something that Duo had done even without his memories and had always fascinated the Russian.  Especially since Duo never seemed to realize he did it.

Since Duo was obviously in one of ‘those moods’ again Serafim simply shrugged.  “Practice then you need to work,” he said shortly.

Duo nodded, obediently following Serafim from his room.

As the door shut behind him, Duo tried to shut his feelings off too.

He always made a better Nightwalker when he didn’t care.

Heero felt his eyes widen in surprise.  “Are you sure?” he said softly.

Cressida nodded with a sigh.  “Unfortunately.”

Heero frowned.  “So... what exactly does that mean...?”

Cressida bit her lower lip again.  “I... really don’t know.  I can research it but it’ll take some time.  And I have no way of reaching any Nightwalkers, not even Duo, if they don’t want me to find them.  We know little to nothing about each other but we each have our barriers that the others can’t cross.  I’m afraid to protect us from them for fear Duo won’t contact us, but I’m also afraid to leave it be....”

Heero turned to look at Cressida sharply.  “You believe there is a threat?”

She hesitated, “I don’t –think- so....”

“You don’t _think_.  Yet you also mention it.  Which means you do.”  He braced himself for the answer to his next question.  “Cressida.  What IS a Nightwalker?”

She looked over guiltily.  “I... don’t....”

“If you don’t know then what do you fear?”

Her mysterious eyes darkened as she looked to the ground.  When she spoke, she began in a disturbed version of her normal tone, but by the end she was muttering unhappily.  “Nightwalkers and fellow Dreamers are the only ones who can kill ones of my race.  You, for instance, couldn’t kill me even if you put all your effort into it.  In that sense, we are immortal.  But the Nightwalkers are the balance of the Dreamers.  If a Dreamer makes a grave mistake that affects enough people, the Nightwalkers are the ones who make an equally important good deed that rectifies the situation.”  She frowned. “If the Nightwalkers consider something within the last year to be a mistake, if anything with Duo is considered one, then they may come after me.  And if something happens to me, there is no protection for you against anything.  At least anything... well, supernatural, if you want to think of us that way.  And then you could get hurt and Duo would never get the chance to come back to you and it would be my fault all over again.”  She finished with a miserable sigh.

Heero scowled.  “Is –that- the only reason you’re helping?  So you don’t feel bad?  So you can keep a clear conscience?”  His voice was cold and demanding.

Cressida looked up in surprise.  “Wha...?  I don’t un—“

“I’m taking a walk,” Heero interrupted her, swiping his jacket off the counter and shutting the door to the apartment firmly behind him before Cressida could do anything more than sputter.

As the sound of the door closing echoed into oblivion in her mind, Cressida sighed unhappily.  “I can’t seem to do –anything- right,” she murmured, letting her head fall back against the chair.  “What a waste....”

/I walk the night/

<Why am I so upset at her?> Heero wondered as he randomly wandered the city, now beginning to gain some nightlife.

<Because you thought she was your friend> he answered himself.  <You thought she actually cared about you and Duo and truly wanted to help>

Heero narrowed his eyes in an icy glare at the ground rapidly retreating beneath his angered, unfaltering steps.  <So?>

<Because she lied about caring.  She only cares about herself.>

Heero’s glared didn’t slip.  <_So?_> he relentlessly demanded of himself, <That’s not it.  That alone wouldn’t bother me.>

Heero walked in silence for a few moments before he was finally able to understand what was grating at his nerves.  <Because sometimes she reminds me of Duo.  And finding she doesn’t care about me makes me feel like maybe Duo doesn’t either....>

Heero froze.  The crowds moved past him unabated, uncaring of the troubled teen who was staring at some distant point as if his heart had just been ripped from his chest.

<Shit,> was all he could think, <I... I must actually care....>  He swallowed, forcing himself to move, forcing the stricken look from his features.  <I’ve said the words before in my mind... aloud with no one to hear... I tried to tell him....  But the feeling was always distant.  Like I was watching from the side.  Like I could say it and if something went wrong, I could say I tried and walk away.>

Heero absently watched the raging river beneath him as he trailed along the edge of the bridge.  <But I can’t walk away now.>  He briefly closed his eyes, stopping abruptly to lean against the rail moodily.  Slowly he focused on the long drop beneath him.  The water was dark as the eclipsed sun, with the same inane, beautiful shine.  The same as a pair of amethyst eyes.

Heero shook his head slightly as if to clear his mind, but nothing could ever erase those laughing pair of eyes again.  Not time, not death, not life.  Only a slim, graceful body with a velvet voice and satin soul could. Heero brought a weary hand to his eyes and thought tiredly, <No... I can’t walk away....>  His eyes watched a bird suddenly fly from its perch on the bridge, taking to the air with powerful beats of its shimmering wings.  The bird made a sound from deep within its throat, crying into the air that it was moving, as if yearning for a response, reassuring it of its existence.

Heero sighed.  <As if I ever could.>

/I walk the night/

Duo sighed.  ‘Practice’ hadn’t been much beyond Serafim staring at him AGAIN while Bakari quietly guided Duo through movements he’d been through hundreds of times before.  Hundreds!  Yet they both insisted that he repeat the basic... well... ‘spells’ more or less... until he was droning archaic thoughts in his sleep.

“Ch’,” Duo growled, reverting to slang from all that time ago, when he had been with the other pilots.

/Oh, I dream at night
It must be a madman’s rainbow that I’m chasing/

For a moment, Duo’s hardened amethyst eyes turned soft and crystalline as he remembered all the fun times he’d had.  His heart twisted as he wondered what Quatre was doing?  Or Trowa?  Even Justice-Boy Wu-man.  Duo bit his lip, his eyes falling half closed as he struggled not to get moody again. <What the HELL is wrong with me?  I’m turning into a damned woman!>  But the thought echoed Wufei’s rants too much and Duo softly said, voice thick with tears he refused to shed, “Onna....” (1)  He drew in a deep breath and found himself wandering to the window as he had done a lot lately.

It was like he was searching the night for answers within himself.

Duo snorted.  “Fat chance,” he murmured, unable to keep quiet even as he was deep in thought.

What was really bothering him wasn’t the pilots.  Well, it WAS. One in particular.  Duo scowled.  But even more than that was the disgust he was feeling for himself.  And that wasn’t due to any of the pilots at the current point in time.

It was due to one very strange Russian man with eyes of the brightest green he’d ever seen.

Immediately his thoughts turned to their 'sessions' as he was beginning to think of them.  Because that’s basically what they were.  Knock on the door, Duo opens it up.  Knock on Duo, Duo opens his legs.  He narrowed his eyes. In some distant part of himself, he felt raped.

Was it stupid to feel raped when you’d always been willing?

<But I didn’t have my memories!  I didn’t know anything!  I was a fucking marionette with an attitude!> Duo protested with a wild pleading note within his head.

<Maybe that’s why it happened.  He never said anything about you.  He’s only ever spoken about your body... and your eyes... he loves your fucking eyes.  Especially since you got your memories back.>

Sometimes Duo wanted to rip his eyes out and dye his hair with permanent dripping blood.  He wanted to shred his skin to ribbons and rub his face in an endless supply of shattered glass.  THEN he wouldn’t have to worry about people liking him for his looks he hated so much anymore.

It’s not like what anyone saw was him anyway.

Nothing but an imposter of the impostering jester.

How ironic that even his masks had masks now.

Duo sighed heavily, pressing the side of his face against the window as he was wont to do recently as well.

<Is there love in it?> he asked himself wearily, thinking back on all the times Serafim had entered his room and his body. <Was there ever...?>

A moment passed before a firm <No,> passed through Duo’s mind like the heat of the desert sun, scorching away his defenses in a burningly brilliant flare of reality.

“Why should there be?” he asked himself a moment later, his voice a raspy whisper.

Serafim had never come even close to implying he cared for Duo. It seemed to be more of a 'you're there so I may as well make use of you' sort of thing... but then again, it was that way on Duo's side as well (to forget Heero) so he couldn't blame the Russian.  ... Could he?

Serafim knew he didn’t have his memories!  Why hadn’t he waited??

<Because no one was expecting you to remember.  You weren’t necessarily supposed to.  It was a complete fluke that you did.  Serafim probably didn’t
think it’d be a big deal....>

Duo could remember the first time it had happened, though it disturbed him to think of any memories from the past year.  It had happened out of nowhere, completely out of character for Serafim who, for the first few hours, had been entirely different.  He had smiled more, made more jokes, seemed like he really wanted to make Duo feel at home.  But shortly after....

^^ “What is your position on killing, Duo?” Bakari’s smooth voice questioned, watching Duo closely.

“Whatever is necessary will be done,” Duo had answered softly, monotonously.  Not unlike Heero at all.

Serafim looked at Duo sharply, but Bakari didn’t even bat an eye.  “How would one know what is necessary and not?”

Duo slowly looked Bakari in the eye.  “If something not immediately unavoidable gets in the way of an assignment then it is necessary.”

Serafim stared oddly at Duo then shook his head.  “Wow... nothing like a cheerful note like that to call it a day on.”  He smiled slightly and clapped a hand on Duo’s shoulder.  “Hey, I’ll see you later, Duo, ok?  I’m a little tired from over-exertion....”

And with that, that Serafim left the room forever, never to return. ^^

Duo’s entire perspective had been different then, after the initial shock had worn off.  He had been cold.  Calculating.  More like a soldier than a person.  He still joked, but there was no humor behind any of it. Everything he did was to elicit responses to be categorized and filed away until such time as he would need that information.

Because of that, Duo hadn’t done anything more than note Serafim’s change in character the next time he saw him—just a few hours after he left.

^^ Duo was in his room, calmly placing clothing in his empty closet and hanging up any shirts he could, when he heard the door open.  He turned to meet his visitor and was greeted with Serafim, standing in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob as he stared at Duo.

Duo stared back for almost a minute before he finally said in a joking voice, “Gonna stand there all day or do you wanna come in?  You can, you know.  Not that hard.  Right foot.  Left foot.  Most of us learned it long ago.”  Duo was actually objectively watching himself joke, noting the perfection of the voice that was lilting enough to be playful but serious enough to show he meant what he said.  He could imagine the silly grin on his face, the way he forced his eyes to twinkle slightly.  But if anyone looked close, they would see cool cobalt watching calmly.  Emotionless. Calculating.

Serafim took a shaky step in then shut the door behind him.  Duo continued to watch him calmly, but when Serafim didn’t do anything, the amnesiac boy turned and finished placing his clothes in the proper areas.

Suddenly Serafim was right behind him.  Duo turned with a wordless question in his eyes and was found himself pulled by Serafim toward him.  Duo blinked, not resisting but not encouraging either.  The Russian held Duo by his shoulders, pushing him out at arm’s length and studying him intently (something he would relentlessly do from then on).

Finally, Duo spoke.  “What?”  He grinned as the Inner Duo examined the situation and noted the flicker of emotion pass through Serafim’s clouded eyes.

Wordlessly, Serafim pushed Duo gently until the back of his legs touched the bed and he found himself sitting.  Duo watched with morbid objectivity as Serafim suddenly shoved just hard enough on his chest to make him fall back against the bed.

He was watching him intently as Duo stared up, blinking slowly.  “What?” he asked again, laughter in his voice even though nothing inside him was laughing.

Serafim suddenly leaned forward and kissed Duo hard on the lips.  Instead of resisting or complying, Duo merely made note of the feeling, how it seemed unusually heightened.  He noted the way the blood ran to his groin. He measured the decreasing amount of time between heartbeats.  He watched as Serafim hastily pulled Duo’s clothes both their bodies.  He moved where he was put and stayed there until moved again.  Any pain he noted and filed for later examination.  Any pleasure he scrutinized to understand exactly where it came from, what it meant, and how it happened.  All the while, Serafim probably didn’t know Duo wasn’t all there.  The Duo he was sleeping with was laughing, joking, smiling, flirting, moaning and taunting as if he was completely immersed in the act.

And thus it was that, after Serafim was finished lighting Duo’s skin on hyper sensitive fire, the Russian thought Duo missed the words that Inner Duo had simply placed in a special area to be accessed later.

“Something familiar,” Serafim had hissed at the “sleeping” Duo as he pulled Duo’s face closer for examination.

And maybe Duo WAS sleeping.  Or part of him anyway.  The part that would be horrified at what he’d just let happen, and how he hadn’t resisted.

But that part of Duo didn’t exist at the time.  And the Inner Duo frankly didn’t give a shit. ^^

Duo drew in a deep breath that he let out slowly.

It was disturbing how removed he had been.  How... emotionless....

Idly, Duo wondered if Heero always felt like a marionette in some macabre play as well.  Immediately he scowled, wondering why all his thoughts had to
keep returning to Heero.

/Cause when I close my eyes
I feel your sweet sensation/

<Maybe that's what it feels like to be him, though> Duo persisted morbidly as he stared quietly out his window.  It was almost night and the sky was splashed with brilliant, vivid colors.  The sun had already almost completely disappeared behind the city's beautiful skyline.  Trying to ignore how disturbed he was about Serafim and THAT situation, Duo found himself wandering to a different train of thought.  The skyline was a very good distraction....  Barely a moment passed before he found himself wondering if Heero was looking out the window too... if he was seeing the same thing he was.

Duo sighed in annoyance.  <I just need to move on and stop caring.  Stop caring about everything.  Because what I think doesn’t matter.  It never did.  All that matters is what happens, and what happened.  So get over the fucking past already, Maxwell.  Stop being so pitiful.  Even YOU are getting pissed at yourself and that’s pretty fucking sad.>

With a defiant glare, Duo watched the night move in like a lazy tiger stalking unsuspecting hearts to play with.

Cressida sighed heavily.  Judging by Heero’s recent behavior, she guessed he wouldn’t return for several hours.  Hoping to busy herself, she began to set up a ritual to protect them against the Nightwalkers if the need arose.

As she worked, she absently reached for her pentagram necklace, as always, and, as always, her defeated hand dropped to her side as she sighed sadly.

Well she had obviously fucked up again, but she wouldn’t let it continue!

As Cressida calmed herself directly before she started, a thought suddenly sang through her mind in a panicked rush.

Grabbing all her supplies and shoving them in a bag, Cressida barely took the time to throw the door closed before she was bolting down the stairs, the elevator completely forgotten in her haste.

Something was tugging at her, frightening her, warning her.

Something was going to happen.

And it probably wasn’t going to be good.

<No more,> Duo thought firmly to himself.  <The next time he comes in, I’m gonna tell Sima to fuck off and find another toy.  I’m not his.  I’m not Heero’s.> That thought made him narrow his eyes in anger even more. <_Definitely_ not –his-!  I’m... I’m my own person again. I have my own thoughts.  My own emotions.  And my emotions tell me Serafim can be a friend but nothing more.  Ever again.>

But even as he told himself that, he knew it would never happen.  All Serafim would have to do was get close enough to touch and Duo’s resolve would be eradicated in a wave of erotic fire.  Serafim knew exactly where and how to touch Duo so that his hyper sensitive skin drew him overboard with passion before even a few seconds had passed.  It was frustrating.  It was disturbing.

It was disgusting.

"Duo?"

The calm voice cut through his dark thoughts.  Duo spun, eyes wide in surprise and a strange showing of fear.  He hated getting so caught up within himself that he forgot the world around him.  That was when people could get him....

Luckily, instead of Serafim (who Duo did NOT want to see again for a long time), Bakari was standing in the doorway with an expression of patience. "How are you?" he asked in his smooth voice and Duo felt his tension begin to drift away.

Despite what Bakari thought of Duo, the spiky-haired Nightwalker had begun to think of the African man as a protector.  Almost a father, if Duo even knew what that was like.  He always felt so safe around Bakari and, when he had the chance, he never wanted to leave his side.  The problem was, it wasn’t very often when he could stay. Bakari had duties, Duo had assignments.  C’est la vie.  Qué será, será and all that shit.

Duo sighed heavily and nodded.  "Fine."  Even his voice sounded drained. Bakari hesitated and Duo almost smacked himself.  "Sorry!  Come in.  You know you're always welcome in my room...."

Bakari gave him a strange look but stepped in anyway.  "You shouldn't be so general, Duo.  Statements such as that could very easily lead to disaster."

Duo shrugged uncaringly.  "It'll happen sooner or later.  Why not get it done with earlier?  Less time to worry about it."

Bakari watched Duo with concern.  "Duo... you are not yourself lately. What problem persists with distracting you?"

Duo felt a small smile tug at his lips.  Bakari had, especially when concerned, always spoken so formally when anyone else would say "So what's up? Why the long face?"  Already he began to feel a little better, but he knew the feeling would end the second Bakari turned his back to leave.

It always happened that way.

Duo couldn't help a depressed sigh as he slumped onto the bed.  Bakari walked over and looked at Duo questioningly.  "Do what you want in here.  I don't care...." Duo murmured, staring at the ground.

Bakari gently sat on the end of the bed, leaving just enough space between him and Duo to show he cared but not so close it was personal.  "Is there something you wish to speak of?" he asked his student calmly.

Duo felt illogical tears rise to his eyes and fiercely tried to shut them out.  <What the fuck is wrong with me?  Why am I trying to cry?  Gods, I've become weak!>

It was a measure of how much Bakari cared that, when he spoke, concern touched his eternally calm and smooth voice.  "Duo?  If there is something that bothers you I would like to help.  I have noticed a change and I told myself you would come if you needed advice, as always.  However, it then occurred to me that, perhaps with your memories, you found restrictions as well."

Duo gritted his teeth, using the pulsing of the pressure in his jaw to distract him from his feeling of wanting to cry.  "I don't wanna bother you, ..." Duo trailed off, uncertain of how to address Bakari.  When being taught, it was Master as in Master and Apprentice.  But the last time he'd seen him he called him simply Bakari.  So what was it supposed to be now? He hated the taste of 'Master' on his tongue.  The word seemed so much viler now than it had before, when he hadn’t cared about anything happening to him.  Now the word just made him think of slaves, not superiors or protectors.

Bakari watched Duo calmly a moment before saying in a voice that was slightly quieter than normal, "The relationship will continue unabated, however I feel now is an appropriate time to help in a different way. Please do not feel uncomfortable outside this room later."

Duo looked sharply over at Bakari, fear rising in him.  He wouldn't...! Not like Serafim...!!

But instead of what Duo's tensed body was anticipating, Bakari simply reached out and, with strong but gentle hands, pulled Duo to his chest in a comforting hug.  Duo stiffened, confused at first, for once able to ignore the erotic sense of his sensitive skin and feel it only as extra proof that this was not a dream and Bakari was indeed helping him.

The African man softly ran a hand down Duo's back in a comforting, soothing manner, his large hands smoothing out Duo's shirt while his other held him
protectively.

Duo's breath hitched and he struggled to keep his composure.  He didn't want Bakari to see how weak he was.  He could handle it.  He had to prove toeveryone he could handle himself.

By Shinigami, it's not like he hadn't been on his own before....

But just as Duo was beginning to get control, Bakari ruined it all with one gesture.

/Mayo mpapa
Mayo mpapa naine nka ku papa
Ukwenda babili kwali wama pa chalo
Ndeya ndeya ndeya no mwana ndeya/

Bakari's voice rumbled through his chest, and Duo could almost feel the sound reverberate through his skin and touch his heart.  Bakari continued to rub Duo's back calmly and his other arm tightened when Duo began to tremble.

Duo had no idea what the words meant, but he recognized the sound from a few times before when Bakari had apparently slipped into his native tongue. Right then, the meaning didn’t matter.  The way Bakari sang, he felt inexplicably comforted... as if Bakari was singing of some unknown fear of Duo’s.  As if he was slaying a demon before Duo got the chance to create it.

/Ndeya no mwana wandi munshila ba mpapula
Munshila ba mpapaula/

Bakari’s voice rumbling through Duo’s barriers and masks and gently touched the frightened child within, soothing him, comforting him with an insanely accurate understanding.

Unable to hold it in anymore, Duo felt his control slip when his arms finally wrapped around Bakari and a single tear escaped his eye.  "I'm sorry," he muttered into Bakari's chest, wishing everyone he'd ever wronged could hear him, then: "I'm sorry!  Oh Gods, I'm so sorry!"

His control completely shattered, Duo broke down, sobbing uncontrollably into Bakari's calmly rumbling chest.  The African man never stopped rubbing Duo's back, nor did he stop singing.  He didn't seem disgusted or pitying of Duo's condition in any way.  He simply held Duo as he cried and continued to support him in his own way

/Iye, iye, iye yangu umwnaa wandi
Yangu umwana wandi mushila ba mpapula/ (2)

Duo hoped the moment would never end.

(1) Yeah, yeah.  You probably all know this.  Onna is ‘woman’ in Japanese. ^_~

(2) Got this from http://www.celebratingchildren.com/article%20-African%20Lullaby.html . I have relatives from Africa but I know nothing of the languages ^_~  Anyway, this song is called “Mayo Mpapa” and “is a Zambian lullaby [...] that teaches children about the protection a parent provides a child.”  I chose this partially because it was one of two lullabies I could find from Africa translated into English (-_-;;) but also because Bakari was trying to soothe Duo in a way.  Think of “Mother” in the following lyrics (translation of Mayo Mpapa) as people around Duo or something to that effect.
"Mother carry me
I will care for you one day
It's not good to be alone in this world
Mother carry me
I will carry you one day
The way a crocodile carries its young on her back."

TO BE CONTINUED....