See Chapter 1 for Spoiler Warning and General Warning.

Author's Note: This story is not meant to be in chapters. I'm just splitting it up this way for the readers' easy access as I update it incrementally. This story is still incomplete. And to everyone who commented on the first part, a big Thank You! You've actually managed to up my usual one sentence per week rate.

Additional Author's Note: Sorry guys, this isn't an update. I just realized that there's huge amounts of typos in this chapter so I reposted.

-

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, Quatre watched the tea leaves dance around in the bottom of his mug as he sloshed the undecorated drinking receptacle between his hands. Tea was supposed to have a calming effect, he remembered his butler telling him. It soothed the stomach and loosened the muscles and nerves.

He wasn't sure how much of that he believed, but he had to agree that the warm, fragrant scent of fresh-brewed tea always made him feel happier. A psychological effect, he was sure, since, to avoid dehydration and infection, he had been drinking tea almost everyday in the desert right after he reached Earth with his Gundam Sandrock and the Maganacs who followed him so loyally.

It had been then that he had felt the most useful and proud of himself ever in his life. Despite the unpleasant business of killing and destroying, he had been able to feel that he was accomplishing something towards a higher purpose. Up until he had met the Maganacs, he had never experienced the thrilling feeling of doing something simply because he thought it was right. A test tube baby created solely to continue his seemingly distant father's business, he had always felt a crushing pressure coupled with lack of freedom and heavy expectations that he could not and did not want to fulfill. Perhaps partly in revenge for what he saw as a betrayal by his father, he had drifted in life, refusing to care about anything.

After meeting the Maganacs, however, and especially after coming to Earth, a new world had opened for him. He had a purpose that he believed in, and he had flattered himself that he was the right one to fulfill it. And for the first time in his life, there had been people who believed in him utterly and unconditionally.

He wondered what Raoul and the others were doing now. Laying low, he hoped, and not risking their lives for the childishly simple ideals of a boy who was growing more and more confused about his so-called purpose in life.

Quatre heard the click and the soft swoosh of a door being furtively opened down the hall. He downed the rest of his cooling tea quickly and, after placing his mug in the sink, he dropped down to squat behind the counter between himself and the living room to wait for his teammate's arrival.

It was early morning, and Quatre had gotten up while it was still dark in order to catch Duo before he left for his unknown activities of the day. It was only just a bit after dawn now, and as soft footsteps made their way down the dim hallway, it seemed that Quatre's little "ambush" was succeeding. He peeked around the counter, his attention intent upon the front door where a dark-clad figure was just reaching for the doorknob.

Seizing the moment, Quatre stood up and cleared his throat loudly in the silence. The stealthy figure at the door jumped and turned at the sound. It was indeed the Deathscythe pilot, dressed in his regular preacher's shirt and black cargo pants, his black baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes.

"Good morning, Duo."

The moment of hesitation was brief but noticeable before the other boy returned his greeting. "Morning, Quatre." He hesitated again before adding, "Getting an early start on the day?"

Quatre smiled. "Mm-hm. Couldn't sleep well last night so I thought I'd get up."

Duo frowned and said, only slightly unconvincingly, "Nothing's come in, has it?"

"No. No missions." Quatre approached his friend and fellow pilot. "Just had a lot on my mind lately," he said, in a tone that was severe enough to get his point across but, he hoped, vague enough and friendly enough to keep Duo from bolting.

"Hey, that must suck," Duo said, his tone concerned and sympathetic. But his body language hinted at wariness as well.

Quatre had been trying for almost a week now to talk seriously to the frequently absent Deathscythe pilot. Duo seemed happy to chat, but everytime the conversation turned towards Heero, he miraculously found something terribly pressing to do or somewhere he definitely had to be. If there had been no other evidence of a problem, that constant avoidance alone would have been enough to worry Quatre. He remembered quite clearly the times when Duo was more than willing to talk about his lover - whether it was to praise the surly Wing pilot or to complain about him. Now the mere mention of his name would send Duo scurrying in the other direction, both figuratively and literally.

"Here, let's not wake up the others. Why don't we talk outside? Just chat for a while." Quatre had tried different strategies, and it seemed that Duo was most carefree when away from the other pilots, especially Heero. Maybe if he could take Duo outside and distract him... "We can catch some breakfast at a cafe I know. It opens early and has the most wonderful banana nut cakes."

"Sure, I mean you're right, it wouldn't be nice to wake up any of the others, right?" To his surprise, Duo agreed readily, and soon Quatre found himself strolling down the street with the long-haired pilot of Deathscythe Hell, chatting about this and that but not saying anything important. That was all right. The serious talk could come later.

The cafe was indeed a nice one. Quatre had found it yesterday while strolling at dawn himself, worrying about Duo. The aroma of pastries and fresh coffee had drawn him to the smallish establishment, and once inside, where he could see the secluded tables, the comfortable atmosphere, and the lovely selection of intricate desserts, he had decided it would be the perfect place to have that talk with Duo. Just the right environment, he hoped, to draw out the recently secretive boy.

"Say, Duo," he commented later, over juice and coffee and a plate of the aforementioned banana nut cakes (they really were delicious) in a corner table of the cafe, "I have some time today with nothing planned. Maybe you could take me with you to where you go...? I don't have enough time to relax, really, so I want to make the most of it, and I'd love to see what has you so interested."

Duo's eyes lit up and his face split in a wide grin. "Yeah!" he cried out. "Let's-" but then he stopped and his face crumpled. "Nah, that wouldn't be a good idea," he said, taking a quick swig of coffee.

Quatre tried to look innocently confused. "Why not, Duo?"

"Well, you know..." He floundered for a moment. "I mean, I don't think you'd be interested."

"I won't know until I see it," he said reasonably.

"Yeah but... It's just... I'm sure you won't..."

"Please, Duo? I don't know when I might have the chance to go again."

Duo fluttered helplessly, avoiding Quatre's steady gaze, then said in a rush, "Really, Quatre, I'd love to take you but, but Heero would just flip if he found out!"

Just as Quatre had expected. Even now, Duo was afraid of what his lover would think. He suppressed a sigh and put on a look of mischief that he had used to share sometimes with the Deathscythe pilot.

"He doesn't have to find out," he replied in a wheedling tone. But instead of softening or answering with a matching expression, Duo only shook his head hard.

"No, I mean, I couldn't. Heero would kill me!"

Quatre hoped he meant that figuratively. "C'mon, Duo, since when have you listened to everything Heero says?"

At that, Duo looked impatient. He wiped his mouth roughly with a napkin and threw it down on the worn wooden table.

"Heero, Heero, Heero, that's all you want to talk about, isn't it? I should've known we couldn't just have a nice breakfast together once in a while. Yeah, great friend you are, Quatre. Here, I'll tell you exactly what you need to know: A, there's nothing to worry about. And B, it's none of your business." With that, he pushed his chair back, stood, and stalked out of the cafe.

"Duo, wait!" Hastily, Quatre threw a few bills down and ran out after his friend. He hadn't expected such theatrics from Duo. He was normally outgoing and not afraid to join in on public festivities, true, but Quatre had always known him to be necessarily discreet. Both the quasi-criminal childhood he had described to Quatre in the past and both their careers as gundam pilots made public displays inherantly a bad idea.

By the time Quatre got to the door, Duo had disappeared. He stared up and down the street for a moment, wondering if he should pick a direction at random and run, in the chance that it would be the same direction Duo had gone. But a split second later he realized that Duo could never be caught if he didn't want to be, especially with the head start that he had cleverly bought for himself.

Leaning against the wall of the cafe, Quatre couldn't help but laugh. He had been had. And he had paid for breakfast too, come to think of it.

"All right, Duo," he whispered, amused, "challenge accepted."

-

"Where's Quatre?" Duo asked Wufei, trying to sound casual.

The black-haired pilot shrugged, not even looking up from his schematics as Duo came out of the bedroom area. "He said he was going shopping. Thank god. When it's your turn to shop we have nothing to eat but junk food." And he levelled a glare at Duo.

Used to Wufei's attitude when he was in a bad mood, Duo just brushed it off. "Got it. Catch you later, chinaman," he said cheerfully, laughing at Wufei's look of outrage before heading to the bathroom. Man, he needed a hot shower. Especially after Heero's dressing down. Honestly, you'd think Heero would have given that up by now. He ought to know it didn't do any good.

Duo frowned in the midst of taking off his shirt, regretting that thought. Heero was only trying to act in Duo's best interests after all. It was he himself who ought to be thinking about his actions. But... shit, he couldn't help it.

Just as he reached to turn on the water, the sound of the door opening made him whip around. "What...?" Hadn't he locked the door this time? Automatically, he grabbed for his towel, only to realize that it was by the door, where the intruder was closing the door behind him.

Quatre.

The Arabian boy calmly locked the door and turned to lean back against it. He glanced up behind Duo and Duo followed his gaze to the only other opening in the room - the tiny 10 x 30 cm window. His message was obvious. Duo couldn't get out. Not until Quatre let him.

Trying to look relaxed, even as he was hugely aware of how completely, and literally, naked he was, Duo grinned. "You're not going to tie me to the shower rack and have your evil way with me now, are you?"

Quatre flushed, though he did not budge from his position. "You read too many comic books, Duo."

"Maybe, but how do you know what I'm talking about?"

"That's-" the boy stuttered. "I grew up with over twenty sisters. What do you expect?"

"Ohhh, I don't know, Quatre." If he could just get the boy unbalanced enough, he could take him out without hurting him too much. And then...

But Quatre was more focussed than Duo had hoped. "You can stop that now, Duo. It isn't going to work." He stood straight and squared his shoulders. "I know that you're better at hand-to-hand combat, but all I have to do is defend, and you know you can't get by me in a situation like that. Not without doing something lethal that you would regret later."

Damn it, he was right.

"May I have my clothes, at least, oh master of my fate?" he said, gesturing toward the counter where he had heaped his clothes next to his towel. Mentally, he was kicking himself for getting into this situation.

"No, not yet." Duo's mouth dropped open. "I want you to explain to me first where all those bruises came from."

Duo swallowed his invectives and crossed his arms tightly over his middle. He knew he wasn't hiding anything that way, but it made him feel a little better.

"That's none of your business, Quatre," he ground out. He wasn't ashamed of his wounds himself, but he didn't like the way the other pilots looked at them, as if Duo were someone to be pitied. Pitied instead of envied.

"Actually, it is. It doesn't look like you're in a state to accept missions lately, and since you guys decided to elect me team leader, I think the well-being of everyone on the team is my business."

Duo glared. "That is such bullshit. You know you didn't want to be the leader in the first place."

"Be that as it may, I am. And even if I weren't, do you think I wouldn't care enough about my teammates to worry if they were getting hurt?"

That got to Duo, and he had to look away from Quatre's liquid gaze.

"Duo... Please. We're all worried about you. Something's wrong, and it's breaking you and Heero apart, isn't it?" Duo bit back an automatic negative, knowing it was useless. He sat heavily on the edge of the tub. Damn Quatre anyway. How did he know just what to say to break down his defenses? "We just want to help, Duo." From the corner of his eye, he saw movement, and then he felt the rough cleaness of his towel being wrapped around him.

Now!, he thought. He could jump up, push Quatre out of the way, get out of the bathroom before he knew what hit him. But two things stopped him. One was Quatre's very deliberate manner and the stance he was in, showing that he was still being wary. It would probably not be that easy, and it would only put Quatre even more on his guard, spoiling any second attempt he might make. And second was that Duo was so tired of keeping everything in. He knew he shouldn't, but he wanted to talk to someone. And even if he couldn't tell Quatre about... everything, he did trust him, and it was hard to refuse the offer of a friendly ear. He drew the towel around him, accepting. For now.

"Okay, you got me. So what do you want me to say?"

-

Quatre backed away and leaned himself against the locked door before answering. He wanted to trust Duo, but he didn't want to be careless and miss his chance either. "Just tell me the truth, Duo."

"About?" The braided boy looked wary but willing to talk.

"What's happened to you and Heero? You two barely talk to each other anymore, and we never see you two go out together anymore. You barely even talk about each other now. Trowa, Wufei, and I are all worried about you." Quatre tried to put every ounce of the confusion and sadness that he felt into his words. He wanted with all his heart to show Duo that he truly cared.

Duo seemed to become by degrees more and more uncomfortable as Quatre spoke. At the first pause, he interjected, "That's my fault. I've been, well, kinda distracted lately."

"What do you mean?" Quatre was careful to keep his tone free of any tone of judgement.

"Well, you've commented on it yourself. I'm running out and about all the time. Heero, you know, he's just trying to protect me. I've told you before, he looks like granite but as long as you're not an enemy, he's just all air. He really cares about his friends, and about me." Quatre noted that Duo placed himself in a separate category from Heero's 'friends' or else he thought that Heero did. Quatre wasn't sure if this was encouraging or part of the problem.

"What is he protecting you from?"

"Oh, things." Duo waved one hand in a vague arc. He hesitated, obviously waiting for Quatre to lead the conversation.

Quatre made no reply, waiting for Duo to elaborate. Unlike Duo, who was uncomfortable with long silences, Quatre had grown up with an domineering father and twenty-seven chattering sisters who almost never let him get in a word edge-wise. He knew he could easily wait Duo out - and 78 seconds later, the nervous Deathscythe pilot proved him right.

"Being a gundam pilot is pretty rough, right?"

"It does become rather stressful," Quatre allowed, careful to react neutrally to this seeming non-sequiter.

"So having hobbies is really a good thing, right?"

"I suppose. Having a way to de-stress is a good thing, sure."

"Exactly!" Duo exclaimed, curiously excited. "I go out to de-stress. Heero, he doesn't understand. He doesn't see any good in it. He's just worried I'll get hurt. Even though I keep telling him that I can take care of myself. He is my boyfriend and he has the right to worry, but it's really kind of silly of him, I think."

"Do you go anywhere dangerous?" Quatre asked, keeping in mind that they still might not have the whole story.

"No, of course not!" He shrugged and addd, "Except for the fact, of course, that the whole universe is dangerous for us right now."

"Where do you go?"

"All over the city! Shops, clubs, theaters, people's houses sometimes..."

"People's houses?" Quatre interjected, surprised. As a rule, all the gundam pilots tried to keep low profiles. Visiting a residence was certainly counter to that.

"Oh, don't worry. That's only when there's large gatherings there. And usually it's pretty dark and the volume's up high. And I try not to go to the same place more than twice. It's a big city; I'm sure no one's noticed me - not as anyone out of the ordinary, anyway."

Duo was an expert at all things clandestine, so Quatre had no reason to doubt him on that score. It was indeed a large teeming metropolis, easy to get lost in. That was one big reason they were stationed here.

"But Heero's worried about a security breach anyway?"

Duo snorted. "Of course not. He knows me better than that. No, he's just afraid I'll get myself hurt out there. Basically, he just Does Not Approve."

"Why would he think you'd get hurt?" It was indeed puzzling. Duo had been on his own for most of his life before becoming a gundam pilot, which should have only enhanced his survival skills.

Duo shrugged bony shoulders, one of which had shocking finger-shaped bruises on it. By their size, they couldn't have been made by a grown man. Perhaps a teenager, perhaps... someone their own age. Heero's age.

"You know Heero. All his life he's been around murderers, cutthroats, junkies - bunch of sleazebags. He grew up with a professional assassin, for Pete's sake. Even though Heero insists that he was an assassin with a heart. The only decent people Heero ever met were probably ones he was supposed to or thought he was supposed to kill." Duo made a gun out of index finger and thumb and mimed sighting along the 'barrel'. "He thinks everybody's crazy and dangerous."

Quatre nodded thoughtfully, remembering how stubborn Heero had once been about working alone and leaving no survivors. According to Duo's stories, Heero had actually mellowed quite a bit by the time Quatre had spent any long amount of time with him. Duo had a good point.

"And is he so insistent on you staying inside that he feels he has to hurt you to do it?"

Duo's jaw dropped in what looked like genuine astonishment.

"What are you talking about? Heero would never... I mean, sure, he can be a little rough sometimes, but he would never really hurt me... Besides," Duo added, raising one corner of his mouth in an obvious leer, "I can be pretty rough myself, if you know what I mean."

Quatre was sure his ears were pinking up, but he staunchly ignored it. He wasn't about to let Duo distract him again with one of his displays. "Bruised hip," he started, "skinned ankle, fading bruises on your back, bruised forearm, slightly swollen fingers on your right hand, finger marks on your right shoulder. Not to mention you're thin as a rail and your clothes are a mess. I'm not doctor, Duo, but don't even try to tell me that that's all a result of what you and Heero do in bed."

Duo, clearly unnerved by Quatre's ennumeration ofhis many sore spots, threw off his look of lechery like the mask it was. "Fine," he said, "maybe it's not from me and Heero getting it on" - Quatre was sure to do no more than blink hard, once - "but this," he said, gesturing up and down his body, "is not Heero's fault."

"Whose is it then?"

Duo shrugged. "I just get careless sometimes, or distracted, and I overdo things. See, that's why I need Heero to look over me sometimes. Not always, of course, but sometimes when I've done something really outrageous, it's a good thing that Heero's there to tell me so."

Worse and worse. "So Heero's there to... what? To punish you?"

It was Duo's turn now to look embarassed. "What!" he protested. "No, he just- I'm not a kid," he said hotly.

"No, you're not. But Heero's trying to control you like one. Worse, even. Duo, don't you see? He's hurting you. He's abusing you."

Duo jumped to his feet, face furious. "Don't you dare say Heero's abusing anyone," he seethed. "Heero may have blood on his hands, yeah, and he may have had to be less than totally considerate to some people - including me - but who the hell among us can say any different?"

"Duo..."

"Heero may look cold and heartless to some people, but he's not. I thought you at least might know better, Quatre. He cares. About everyone. It's more than he can take sometimes. He can't let himself cry about it - not even with me - but if you only heard what he's said to me; if you knew how often and how much he thinks about the lives he's had to destroy, and how hard he hopes for peace... If any of you knew, you'd never ever accuse him of abuse. Heero Yuy would never hurt anyone without good reason."

"Duo..." Quatre was stunned. This was no act. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that Heero was willfully hurting you."

"That's what abuse is," Duo snapped, tight-jawed.

"But exactly because he has only good intentions, he may not realize what harm he's doing."

"He's not doing anyone any harm."

"Duo," Quatre continued doggedly. He wanted to clarify this absolutely: "Is he or is he not hitting you?"

Duo's fists clenched, his knuckles pale bony stripes. "No," he said, finally. "He's not."

Quatre let out his held breath. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or resigned. "Then the bruises?" he asked. Was there a different explanation after all? Or was Duo willing to lie to protect Heero?

"Those are my own fault, not Heero's." The thin, towel-clad pilot of Gundam Deathscythe Hell huffed irritatedly. "Don't you see, Quatre? It's because of the bruises that Heero doesn't want me going out. He can't stand to see them; he's blaming himself all the time. He wants to protect me. He can't stand losing control like this. He loves me." Duo's eyes tightened. "And I love him."

Duo whipped off his towel and flung it in Quatre's face. Quatre caught it reflexively. "Put that on the counter," Duo commanded. "I'm going to take my shower now."

He stepped in the tub and yanked the curtain closed. A moment later, the water started running.

Steam was beginning to rise from the tub when Quatre slipped out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.

-

(To Be Continued...)