"Heero... Let's just watch the sunrise, onegai?" Duo asked, honestly not ready for a triple A interrogation. 

To his surprise and gratification, Heero nodded, then slowly pulled his knees up to his chest, looking for all the world like a lost soul... 

Duo shook his head sharply, to clear it of the illusion. Heero was deadly. Heero was like a machine; and, most of all, Heero held him in utter contempt; otherwise, why would he use him carelessly take all that mattered from him - his dignity, his pride - and to think he'd thought that he hadn't even remembered what those were. He tilted his head back, letting the rays of sunshine fall upon his neck, closing his eyes. Yes, Heero must truly despise him, to use him like he did. 

He sighed, almost ready to say something, when Quatre's cheerful voice floated out from the vicinity of the kitchen, "Breakfast's ready!" He chuckled, thinking about cosmic timing. And the minister had told him sternly that God had no sense of humor. He snorted.

"Well, Heero, looks like it's time to chow down," He said, with fake enthusiasm, rubbing his stomach. 

Slowly, he got up from the porch rubbing his bare arms. "Sheee-it, man!" He cried, causing Heero to whip his head sideways at him, "It's fucking cold!" 

The corners of Heero's mouth tilted upwards, and Duo felt his gut churn. Such a false reaction, that could evoke such intense emotion from him... He turned around, opening the door to the living room, when Heero smoothly got up and gripped his shoulder. <Thank God it hadn't been the wounded one> Was all Duo could think, till he heard Heero's sentence. "I will find out what happened," He said, coldly, and then walked past the stunned Duo, through the shabby living room, and into the small kitchen. 

Duo realized, after a few minutes had gone by, that he was still standing outside, in the freezing early morning. "Fuck," He cursed disgustedly. That was just what he needed. Heero on his ass about - that. 

He tiredly pushed open the door, with one hand. He was getting sick of only using his right arm very quickly. 

Passing through the living room, he smelled something cooking... Something good... "French toast!" He screeched, then raced ahead, into the kitchen. 

"My favorite!" He exclaimed happily, then, eyeing the batter-covered boy, "Quatre, I love you for this!" He plopped himself down in a plush chair, - the *only* plush chair - and picked up the huge jug of maple syrup. 

After pouring what seemed like half of it onto his seven pieces of french toast, he at last put down the jug. Everyone else sweatdropped. 

He shoveled forkful after forkful into his mouth, hungry beyond belief. <Well, buddy, healing can tire you out; you need a lot of energy for it> One voice in his mind observed, answering his unspoken question. 

"So...What's on the agenda today?" He asked, wiping his mouth with a dainty napkin and leaning his chair back. "Blowing up mindless Ozzie scum? Capturing a data disk single-handedly in a base swarming full of the same mindless creeps?" <*You* would *literally* have to do it single-handedly> A disapproving voice observed, but he swatted it away.

"What?" He complained, staring at the others. They were all looking straight at him... What was their problem? With a start, he realized that they weren't staring at *him*, they were staring at his shoulder. <Fuck,> He thought to himself in disgust, <The wifebeater. You should've known, Maxwell...When you leaned back...It fell open...Tsk, tsk, tsk...> 

"What happened, Maxwell?" Wufei asked quietly, outwardly calm, though inwardly worried. 

He winked rakishly at them, tossing a smile and saying, "I whooped some Ozzie ass!" 

"And you cut yourself while doing it?" Trowa's voice asked calmly. 

"Yeah, pretty much - I mean, NO! The damn bastard tried to pull a knife on me!" He grinned maliciously, saying, "And that's the last time he ever tried anything again." He crossed his arms, ignoring the sharp, stabbing pains that shot through his arms, so he could prove that the wound was old <which it wasn't> and that it felt fine. <which it didn't.>

Wufei rolled his eyes and snorted, relieved, and annoyed with Maxwell for making him worry so, though he would never admit it. "You let your guard down enough to let him in?" 

He could literally feel everyone's angry, contemptuous stares, so he got up, saying, "Yep, Wuffie, I was a little busy at the time. See, this other guy, uh, he sneaked up on me, and so I was a little preoccupied." He finished lamely, conscious of the fact that the story sounded like pure bunk - which it was. 

He made his way to his and Heero's room, silently berating himself. He opened the door cheerfully, well aware that he could be seen from the kitchen. As soon as he shut it, however, he inwardly collapsed. He threw himself onto his bed, just wanting to sleep and never wake up again... 

Which was impossible. He had a duty; a duty to the colonies, a duty to every innocent living person; he had a debt to make up. He could not die until he paid it. 

Dying would accomplish nothing, anyway, he thought as he rolled over on his back. Dying wouldn't appease all those he killed; his life meant nothing in the face of the hundreds, if not thousands that he'd destroyed already. 

He closed his eyes, whispering, "Every dead man, woman and child had someone who loved them more than anything in the entire world. Not only did I destroy them, I destroyed their closest friends and family as well; and as I devastated them, I in turn crushed *their* friends... And the ripples keep on spreading wider." He quoted softly, almost moved to tears. Everything was so worthless. Himself, most of all. It was almost blasphemy to think that he could possibly make up for all the lives he'd destroyed...

A soft knock souned at the door, and Duo guessed it was Quatre. "Come in," He called, listening as the door opened wider, not bothering to open his eyes. "Man, I am so bushed, Q, I can't-" "It's not Quatre." Heero's voice interrupted his fake-cheerful musing. His voice sounded almost... hesitant? Nah, he thought to himself, Heero's never hesitant. <He's probably just pissed I let that 'Ozzie' take a chunk out of me. He'll probably rail at me, tell me I endangered the mission...> God, how he hated that phrase. 

He crossed his arms, feeling another sharp pain streak up his left arm. Ignoring it, he tilted his head towards his Heero's voice and slowly opened his eyes. 

"What ya waitin for, Heero?" He asked, then uncrossed his arms, and pointed at the desk, "You're laptop's right over there." 

"I didn't come in here for that," Heero replied, voice sounding... exasperated. <Shit> Duo thought, <I must be hallucinating really badly from all this pain. That's the second time I thought he had something in his voice other than... nothing.> 

Heero walked in, shutting the door behind him. He sat down on the bed, next to Duo. Duo tensed up, knowing he was in a vulnerable position, and if Heero tried to attack him, this was the best opening he'd get. 

"Mou... Heero. What are you doing?" Duo asked, hiding his fear under a cheerful smile. 

"What does it look like, baka?" Heero asked, "I'm sitting here on the bed." 

Duo's eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, but Heero caught the motion. <oh, God> He thought in panic, <He's gonna ask about the shoulder, and... Fuck I can't tell him!> 

Heero looked at him, in silence, and Duo did his best to avoid the gaze. "I know... I know you went out last night, Duo." He said at last, uncomfortably. 

"Aw, hell yeah, man! I told you I went out! I went jogging, you know. Got to get my lazy ass in gear somehow!" Duo joked, sounding too high-pitched and knowing it. God, he really didn't want to go there. 

"But that's not all that happened, is it." Heero stated, rather than asked. 

"Man, what are you talking about? Are you sick or something?" Duo said, then reached his right hand up to feel Heero's forehead, trying to distract him. 

Heero wrenched his hand away, saying in anger, "Duo! Answer me, dammit!" 

"Heero, man... I have no clue what you're talking about," He said, lying glibly. 

"You hurt your shoulder, while you were out." He stated, still holding Duo's wrist in his hands. 

"What?" Duo said, feebly, "Heero, this joke has gone too far! Quit it and leave me alone!" 

"No." Heero replied calmly, then said, "You couldn't have hurt your shoulder while fighting an OZ soldier. The last mission you were on, you were with me, and combat never came to hand to hand." He stated coldly. 

"Look, Heero, it was on the mission before that!" Duo said, lamely. 

"The mission before that did not even involve you. Your last mission was too far away for this damage to have still be recent; it would've been healed by now. What happened?" Heero said, eyeing him disdainfully. 

"Heero." Duo said coldly as well. "Let. Go. Of. My. Wrist." 

"No." Heero replied simply, "not until you tell me what happened." 

"Nothing happened!" Duo said, desperately, trying to free his wrist and failing. 

"Then why is your shoulder wounded?" He asked, infallibly.