(Fly on Broken Wings: Chapter Twenty Nine - Caught in the Middle)
rated: R - language, content, violence
shounen-ai/yaoi

Caught in the Middle

Duo smoothed the fabric over the bed, admiring the contrast of the green fabric against the dull steel of the crisp sheets, extra starch, no iron. He'd been assigned laundry for three straight weeks at school. All Heero's fault, too. No matter; he'd shrunk the boy's shirt in retaliation. He folded the top in half and stared at the neat clothing columns dotting Quatre's bed. Time to start packing.

Duo upended his duffle and a rain of his possessions tumbled out on to the floor. He swept them aside and jammed stacks of clothes in at al time. The green tank top went in last. Damn Heero for being such an accidental do-gooder all the freaking time, too. Wufei and Quatre had that same annoying characteristic. That was one of the reasons why Duo felt he and Treize got along so well. They both had the moral fortitude of sponges. No, that was why he liked Trowa best. Trowa judged no one.

It depressed him that all his worldly possessions fit into his large army-style duffle. At least the sides bulged, straining at the zippers and warping the olive canvas around the interlocked metal. His favorite hairbrush stuck out of the side pouch and jutted into his side when he hauled the bag up and looped the strap over his shoulder. The orphanage had so ever helpfully supplied him with the stupid duffle in the first place, and his clothes and meager belongings had rattled around inside when he was first sent away.

His new room assignment was further down the same hallway. Duo realized he should have just carried his things in big heaping armfuls. Now he had to unpack. He rudely glared at a passing patient; the boy drooled back at him. Touché, kid. Duo slung his bag into the room, the heavy thing making a loud 'whoomp' noise against the floor. His hairbrush toppled out from its precarious position and disappeared under the far bed.

Squeaking and groaning in protest, the nubbed legs of the twin bed skittered over the floor as Duo heaved his weight against it, driving the bed across the room to its mate. The dresser, despite being empty, refused to budge, forcing Duo to do some creative furniture arranging to get the beds pushed up into the far corner. He sprawled across the resulting double-bed, ignoring the crack down the center, and basked in accomplishment.

Now, ideally, if he could only get the dresser over where the extra bed used to be, by the door, and the nightstands stayed against the far wall, he'd have a cozy set up. Duo eyed the dresser; surely he and Wufei together could manage. Oh, yeah, Wufei was pissed at him again. The do-gooder. Don't curse, don't cheat at cards, don't have any fun 'cause I'm Wufei and I know everything and I'm such a fucking overbearing prick. Yeah. The dresser could just stay where it was.

Duo shoved jeans and boxers into one of the drawers, followed by socks, not even bothering to keep Quatre's neat folds in order. Into the top drawer went his personal effects, a depressingly small collection of several battered, second-hand books held together by numerous rubber bands and stuffed with loose papers, a few trinkets, and various things either gifted to him or borrowed indefinitely. Duo plucked one of the books, the complete works of Poe, out of the drawer. The cover depended entirely on three thick rubber bands to keep the pages together, and when he opened it several loose pages fell out, including the entirety of The Cask of Amontillado, his favorite story, no doubted loosened by repeated readings.

Buried near the back of the book, nestled firmly between Shadow – A Parable and Silence – A Fable, the steel glower of Heero loomed up at him from a Polaroid, the edges worn to fuzz and one crease marring the boy's face. The crease was from Heero's failed attempts to intercept the photo; Duo had responded by storing the picture down the front of his pants. Heero had ignored him for the rest of the week. Duo smiled, remembering. No one could hold a grudge like Heero, not even Wufei.

Duo replaced the fallen pages and bound the book back up, securing the rubber bands into the notched worn into the cover. The green tank top, followed by the rest of his shirts and sweaters, buried his personal effects. A thick stack of notebooks, sketchbooks and paper went into the nightstand along with his assortment of hair ties and brushes. He kicked the emptied duffle under the bed.

"You got this done faster than I thought you would," came Wufei's voice. Duo turned to see his friend standing in the doorway, eyes roaming. "They're not going to be happy with the furniture being moved, you know."

"What, not feng shui enough?" Duo snapped.

"I see you're still being as charming as ever." Wufei disdainfully took a few steps into the room and ran the tip of his finger along the edge of the dresser.

Duo glowered at him from the bed. "Do you have a reason for being here?"

High spots of color bloomed across the boy's face. His dark eyes snapped coldly in contrast. "As I said before, Maxwell, taking your anger out on your friends is—"

"Can the fucking lecture, Wufei. I don't want to hear it. A lecture on sanity from the biggest mental fuck-up in here is really way too fucking annoying. I've had enough of it." Duo took a step forward and was rewarded with the younger boy hesitantly retreating. "I envy your fucking ignorance, sometimes. You have no idea just how fucking crazy you are, do you?"

Wufei held himself stiffly, chin lifted in defiance even as his troubled eyes betrayed his doubt. "I don't think—"

"Do you?" he demanded, advancing again. Wufei held his ground this time. Duo sneered. "Fucking ignorance is bliss after all, I guess. Some of us don't have that luxury, so get the fuck out of my room. I'm sick of looking at you. I'm sick of your Goddamn sanctimonious harping. Fucking hypocrite!" Duo took a step forward, this time succeeding in driving Wufei toward the door. "Fucking lunatic!"

Wufei's features wavered, bold defiance loosing rapid ground to a quavering lower lip. "Don't-"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Duo lashed out, shoving Wufei the last few steps out the door. The boy stood in the hallway, shoulders slumped. Duo laughed, low and mirthless. "You really have no idea how fucking pathetic you are."

"Duo…"

"Leave me the hell alone." Duo slammed the door shut on the pitiable sight, hardening his heart against a sudden, nagging doubt. He looked at the empty room. That's right. He wanted to be alone.

Joining the queue of yawning, groggy patients, Quatre resisted the urge to yawn himself. Despite a thorough scrubbing in the shower, his face felt botched and sticky from tears. He slid his tray down the line to receive a scoop each of yellow, blobby eggs and lumpy, grey oatmeal. They slid together into a most unappetizing mess in the center of his plate. He passed on the greasy, limp strips of bacon and instead took a few squat links of sausage. The man passing out milk cartons gave him both a plain and a chocolate, and Quatre's mood lifted considerably.

At least until he searched out the usual table and found it completely abandoned. He started hesitantly toward it, guilty relief gnawing at him that Duo had either already eaten or was still asleep. Half-way to the table, he spotted Meiran, hair pulled up in pigtails, sitting with Relena, Dorothy and, of all people, Zechs. Quatre started to veer that way, but a bump from behind made him fumble his tray. The plate of eggs and oatmeal upended to the floor, splattering down with a wet, disgusting noise. His sausages bounced off the plate and stuck into the oozing puddle of lumpy oats. The milk cartons, fortunately, were unharmed. Quatre stared down at his breakfast in shock.

Turning to see who had bumped him, Quatre caught a glimpse of swinging braid against black before two orderlies descended on him, fussing over the mess and blaming him for wasting food. One sharply criticized Sandy as "one too many things to carry" while the other threw away both the milk cartons along with the ruined food. Quatre was sent to find a mop and, by the time he had the floor cleaned up satisfactorily and made it through the line, they were out of chocolate milk and everything but cereal and oatmeal.

Hot, angry tears blurred his vision and he thumped his tray down at the nearest empty table. Cereal sloshed out of the bowl. He attacked it, hardly bothering to chew the flakes so he could eat them before they turned soggy. The cafeteria had emptied of all but the last few stragglers, sleepy yawns punctuating gobbled bites. One rail-thin girl was nibbling on a piece of toast as if it pained her with a sharp-eyed nurse looming over her shoulder; Quatre recognized that sort of treatment. Girls with eating disorders had been nearly half the population of his old clinic.

Clearing away his breakfast, Quatre ventured out into the common area and walked a few circuits of the room. Talking animatedly to a dull-eyed, drooling boy over a game of Connect Four was Duo, who seemed to be winning. The two ex-roommates stiffly ignored each other as Quatre waking past, giving Duo's feet a wide berth to avoid getting tripped. Quatre remembered Duo's usual lack of points and made a beeline for the library. The nurse on duty checked the clipboard at her station and waved him on through into the quiet little sanctum. Tall shelves smelled faintly of paper and dust, which made a rather pleasant combination. Quatre peaked at her clipboard as she wrote down his name and saw Wufei's just above his own.

Quatre wandered down the aisles looking for either an interesting book or Wufei, whichever came first. The end of the library was dominated by one long table and a cluster of soft armchairs, framed by tall windows that let in a dreary grey light. Rain flecked down into the grass outside. Moving furiously along side the windows was Wufei, pacing in a tight circle, every so often looking up at the clock on the far wall.

Wufei gave a grunting acknowledgement when Quatre emerged out from the aisles and tentatively took a seat at the table. A couple of books were scattered over it, including one hefty encyclopedia which he idly flipped through. Wufei continued pacing, and finally Quatre had to ask in a small voice, "How are you?"

"Fine," Wufei snapped. Quatre flinched back and the other boy winced, visibly forcing himself to stop moving. His hands twitched irritably at his side, though, as he stared out the window. His eyes eventually went back up to the clock.

"Are you… waiting for something?"

"No," Wufei colored hotly. "Why would you think that?" He glared up at the clock and paced a little more before coming to a quick halt. He dragged one of the chairs out from the table and sat, but only for a few minutes before jumping back up and walking over to the window. "Expecting any visitors?"

"Mmm, no," Quatre thought about it for a moment. "Iria would've gone home already and she's the only one— I mean, the rest are too busy. Are… you?"

Instead of answering however, Wufei came back over and sat down. "Do you think he'll come?" he threw the question out like an accusation. Quatre just stared at him in confusion before Wufei clarified. "I hope he does, with Duo in the mood he's in I bet it'll be enough to keep him away for a while."

Only Heero could elicit just disdain from the usually calm Wufei. Quatre bit his lip and shrugged. He picked at Sandy's round eye for a moment, digging a fingernail between the plastic and the fur. "Duo thinks it's my fault he had to move."

"Oh, fuck him," Wufei bit the words out like acid. Quatre gaped at him. Wufei's hands were knotting themselves up in his lap, which jostled from one foot he tapped incessantly against the floor. Quatre had never seen him this tightly wound. He was a little afraid of what would happen with all that tension was released.

Quatre searched around for something more to say, but before he could Wufei suddenly leapt to his feet, face swiveling toward the front of the library. He took off, and Quatre followed after a second's hesitation. He'd barely cleared the second aisle when Wufei came thundering back. A skinny girl stood giving her name to the library nurse. So, clearly not whom or whatever Wufei was waiting for so impatiently.

When Quatre got back to the table, however, it was a pensive Meiran he found staring out the window, hair already pulled up and Wufei's glasses sticking out of her pocket. She turned a little as he sat down, but didn't say anything. She looked just as anxious as Wufei had been, but hers was a much calmer worry. She chewed determinedly at her thumbnail; the other nails had already been worn down to the quick. As Quatre watched, horribly fascinated, she features vanished abruptly into Treize's cool demeanor. The pigtails came down, and Treize carried a nonchalance the other two personalities lacked. He started to say something to Quatre, but just as quickly Wufei was back, pacing wildly and glasses crooked.

Unsure of what to do, Quatre looked through the encyclopedia again. Despite the thick size, it was one of those illustrated children's versions. He stopped when Wufei sat once more, and was startled to find the boy's inky eyes staring directly at him, face suddenly very serious. "Winner, you can't take what Maxwell says very seriously. Don't let him make you feel responsible. Maybe it's better if you stay clear of him for a while. I think the doctors had the right idea, separating you two. Listen," Wufei hesitated, brows darting together. "I want you to know—"

Breaking the sentence off abruptly, Wufei stood again and began pacing up the length of the windows and back down again, face and flickering too quickly through the three for Quatre to keep track. Treize would stop walking, but Meiran and Wufei both paced. She would start chewing on her nails, but just as quickly Wufei would lower his hands. The sight scared Quatre, nearly as much as Wufei's serious speech had. What had he meant, staying clear of Duo? With a shudder, Quatre remembered the last time he'd been warned against taking Duo very seriously, that he wasn't a danger. His skin crawled, and Quatre drew his legs up into the chair as he watched, too fascinated to look away and too horrified to say anything, as Wufei fell apart on him.

Author's Notes: Wah, I'm the worst author with the best readers! I don't deserve your patience, but thank you so much for it. Sadly you owe this chapter mostly to Ian waking me up at 7:30 this morning. That son of a biscuit, I'm still pissed at him for it. Oh well, at least something productive came of it.

What's with Wufei? Will the friends be friends again? You'll have to wait to find out, but hopefully not wait too long! (I know, I always say that, but I really mean it this time!) I'm going to cut this short with just another HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you for everyone's patience and dedication, you guys are the best and I don't deserve you.

Right-o. Back to work!

Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated!
copyright 2007 - Gundam Wing & Co. (c) Sotsu/Sunrise
LSE - Violet Nyte (violetnyte dot livejournal dot com)