“Where the hell are we?”  Duo groaned out, stepping up in the small room.  The drinks he’d had that day before were out of his system, but a certain rage staid within.  By the looks of the small room, he had been laying there for quite a while before coming to.  The ‘pillow’ he’d been using was nearly flat.

 “Shit, where are they?” he muttered.  Looking around once more the American pilot found himself all alone.  He was in some sort of cell that much was certain, but everything else remained a mystery.  Great…. just great.  Right when I think that everything’s cool, and I can advance my relationship with Heero, something just had to get in the way…

 Why was it that everything had to be taken away from him?  His friends, his lover; all the things that had defined his life were now gone.  Everyone close to me dies…
Heero promised that this would never happen.  Why … WHY?

 A crashing sound caused Duo to jerk, and turn as something made its way down the corridor.  Looking through the small bars to his right, a tall figure could be seen wearing some sort of lab coat.  The American pilot rose his eyebrow at the spectacle, he knew that it wasn’t any scientist that he knew, but there was something about scientists that always seemed to remain the same… that crazy inventive look in the eyes, the mannerism, which to be frank, made him very nervous.

 “Mr. Maxwell, good to have you on board.  I’m terribly sorry for the treatment you’ve had to receive here, however, I must say that you are quite a handful when drunk.”

 Violet eyes widened under dark brows, “Who are you?” he asked in an informal tone.  The simple feel of the room set him off, and he became very shifty.  He paced a bit in his cell, looking around just a bit, and shuddering.

 “Who am I?  Don’t tell me you got no call yesterday?  Messages were sent by fax, mail, E-mail, and phone.  You didn’t get any of them?  Of course not, I suppose, you were out having a party.  And what a display you five made!  A couple of days and you think all you’re responsibilities are over…kids.”

 “What are you talking about?  Responsibilities are over!  The war is over!  It has to be.  It was on the news…the politicians meeting?”

 “Do you always believe the media, son?”

 Duo stopped in his tracks.  What did they mean by this, what was going on?  “I saw it broadcasted for many days, sir,” he stated swallowing, “Are you telling me that none of this is true?”

 “It was a ploy, Maxwell!  We got everyone to believe that there are no more attacks being made by other colonies and forces to make them stand down.  Soon however, they’re going to find out that there is no actual peace now, and they’re going to go to war.  Before they do, we must take out all ammunition so that this may not start again.  We’re going to make the colonies stop fighting, even if it takes us all our strength.”

 “Make them start peace?”  The American’s voice was low and dangerous.  “You are a fool.  By whose orders are you having us do this?  I thought everyone would have realized this by now…god, you can’t MAKE people do anything.  If you shoot, they shoot back.  If you blow up their base, they’ll blow up yours.  It’s a cycle.  Just like everything else in this hellish life.  You’ll accomplish nothing!”

 The scientist snorted, “I’ll be the judge of that,” he stated, opening the jail cell to let the 02’ pilot out.

 “Where is your logic in this, Mr. Scientist?  What do you know of battles other than causing them?  What do you know of suffering?”  Duo breathed with labored hatred,  “We have fought for peace, we have bleed for peace, and we have killed for peace, but what has it done for us?  For our predicament?  The battles haven’t done anything besides intimidate.  It is the leaders of these worlds, of these factions, and of these colonies that must bring the peace.  We were on our way,” he stated coldly, “Why beat a dead horse?”

 “Because we weren’t on our way, Mr. Maxwell.  If everything had been so simple as you just stated, we wouldn’t be doing any of this.  The colonies haven’t accepted our attempt for peace.  They’ve denied it, and are bearing that arms once more.”

 “How do you know this?”  A quiet voice asked.  Duo turned around to see Quatre sitting amongst the others in a sitting room beyond the cells.  It seemed as though he was the only one who had been hard to restrain…

 “With all due respect, Mr. Ungaski, I don’t believe you have the evidence to support such a conclusion.  How are you telling now, that the people are holding up arms?  Are you video taping them at every point of the colonies?  Such a method would be far too costly,” the Arabian pushed his blond bangs out of his face, and walked up to where Duo stood.  “To be perfectly honest with you, sir, I’m not buying any of this.”

 Trowa groaned in the background.  Now he remembered why he never tried to get Quatre’s hopes up about these sorts of things.  His amore was a very sweet person, however, we he thinks he’s right, he becomes stubborn as hell with confrontation.  Call it an argumentative denial.

 Wufei shared the aggravated glance that Trowa had tossed his way, rolling his eyes at the sight of Quatre acting is such an arrogant manor.  “Remind me never to cross your lover,” he stated, folding his arms and leaning back against the couch.

 “Trowa, control him and make him stop ranting,” Heero stated in monotone, as he went to grab his own lover.

 The air got cooler around the room as Quatre and the scientist had their exchange.  Though Mr. Ungaski had given him very plausible and logical reasons as well as proof for the fact that the peace wasn’t lasting, the tenacious Arabian refused to believe.  “We’ve gone through too much for this.  I won’t allow any of this to proceed,” he answered, walking towards what he presumed to be the manager’s office.

 The scientist exhaled slowly, and threw Trowa the fifth exasperated look that he’d gotten that day.  “Go stop your lover before he does something stupid.”

 With a deep sigh, the European went quickly after Quatre, his nostrils beginning to flare with anger at the entire scene.  “May I be the first to give an apology, Ungaski, it seems that we have quite the aggressive person on our hands.”

 Nodding, Mr. Ungaski turned about, doing more of his work that had been left for the couple of hours that he’d been talking to 02’ and 04’.  Through all the verbal beatings he had gotten from that aristocrat, however, he was still more haunted by the physical assault he’d gotten into with a certain longhaired American.

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 “What the hell were you thinking?”  Trowa asked, in a quiet, but dangerous voice.  “Give it up Quatre.  We all wanted peace, but it’s not happening.  It was all a false alarm.  You know as well as I do that the colonies don’t always want to accept the peace that they could find.  They still haven’t realized it all.  Let go!”

 His smaller lover refused to be caught, and refused to listen to reason.  He knew in his own mind that there was peace, and he would do all that he could to find it.  “I’m not letting go of anything Trowa.  This is too important.  We still have peace in our hands!”

 “The peace tactics have FAILED, Quatre!”

 “You believe him?  How can you?  You saw just what I did.  There were people rejoicing in the streets Trowa.  They were happy.  We were happy.  I’m not going to let go of it for his lies!”

 “And what reason would he have to lie?  Have you ever thought about that.”

 Quatre turned around wildly, his blue eyes blazing.  “All I know is that I can’t trust a man who would trick a people into peace.  We should have a chance to turn things right without all this bloodshed.  Haven’t you been listening?”  Quatre took a deep breath, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Duo was right,” he whispered, “You can’t achieve peace through more bloodshed.”

 “Blood is going to be spilled either way.  The colonies are either going to blow the other forces up, or they’re going to blown up by us.  Either way there is going to be death.”

 The Arabian stopped completely in his tracks, looking downward towards his lover.  “Then what is the point in us interfering?  Why do they need us, if destruction isn’t going to be stopped anyway?”  More tears rolled down the blond’s cheeks,  “Why can’t we just go home?”

 Trowa’s eyes narrowed in anger.  His lover’s selfishness truly surprised him this time.  To think that Quatre would stop protecting the citizens just so that he could go home to his family.  Everyone wanted to go back to whatever they called home, but none of them had homes right now.  They were fighting the army men to allow the citizens to have homes, and he would let innocent bystanders who had never even asked for a war in their lands to be killed.

“Typical,” Trowa stated bitterly, “You know, many of the people we came across during this war thought you were to weak to handle the pressures of fighting.  I always stuck up for you, thinking that I knew the truth.  But now, Quatre, I see that they were right.”  With that, the European pilot left, leaving his lover with the coldest of all feelings: rejection.

************************************************************************

 For thirty days, Quatre had been stumbling about the new safe house.  His soft eyes had become hardened, and a heavy weight was bearing on his shoulders.  It was most obvious to Duo that his little friend was feeling very guilty.  Make no mistake about it though, the little blond had gotten a hold of himself, and even gave everyone a deep apology for all of his arguments and anger.  Still, as the Arabian walked around doing his simple tasks, and especially during the missions, he was so miserable that within every one of his steps, you could tell that he cared no longer for personal being.  No matter how much you encouraged him, there was still that dead look in his eyes.  And more than that, it was quite easily to tell that the others were discouraged as well.  This home had turned into one of depressive thoughts and pain.  Something had to be done about it; at least a little thing had to be fixed.

 “Trowa?”  Duo asked, as Quatre walked out of the room.

 “Hm?”

 “What did you say to him?”

 The European sighed, putting his paper down, and staring after his love.  “Something I shouldn’t have,” he admitted, “I’m going to go talk to him Duo.  Watch the stove.”

 Duo nodded, watching the tall pilot go down the shadowed hallway.  With a shake of his head, he turned his sorrowful eyes towards Heero.  “Why couldn’t this have all ended?” he asked drearily.  “I hate all of this.”

 “I know, love, I know.”  Heero rubbed his koi’s shoulders, kneading at the knots and the stress.  “You truly do know the reasons though.  The people are not ready to forgive and forget.  They are not willing to give up, and so we fight, just like we always have.”  The Japanese pilot stared off into the distance, going seemingly, a million miles away.  “Peace is the hardest of all things to achieve, even though it’s important.  All people of the colonies, factions, and the earth must realize what we as gundam pilots already have: that peace is worth risking for.”

 “And that war sucks?”  Duo asked, looking up at his lover with the barest of teasing smiles.

 “That too.”

 The darkness soon surrounded the quiet house, wrapping around their souls and ending yet another sorrowful day.  And the next day would they wake up to more missions and more of that solder’s blood on their hands to intensify all the pain.  Again and again would this go on, make no mistake.  Souls will be crushed, innocence lost, and even more lives created in vain until the greatest of all days some.  Until that day when all realize truths of their own mortality.