GW - Holocaust

Please, Read & Review. This is my first finished Gundam story. People can check out my home page for other stories.
Yes, I know, this has been done before, and recently, to boot. I liked what Duo's Chick and Star Kindler did, but I decided I wanted to do my own version of the Duo-lives-through-the-Holocaust story. My story has nothing to do with politics. It's just sweet shonen-ai fluff, and the message is pretty much that Love Endures yada yada...
If you don't like it, that's tough, because I didn't write this to offend anyone, and you don't have to read it.
I don't own the Gundam Boys, and, seeing as I don't own history, I had no part in the formation of what happened during the Holocaust. (Well, duh...) Any similarities between the characters and persons living and dead is purely coincidental, although similarities between fictional characters was intentional. (Duh again.)

A fire burned inside, heavy, hot. The smoke clouded the wintry horizon. Bits of ash wafted down, mixed with the snow, and settled on the ground.
He wanted to get up and run.
This is disgusting... He said, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.
I know, but, Heero, just... Will you watch with me?
No, Duo, I'm not in the mood for this.
The boy's hand tried to grab his. I can't watch this alone... Please Heero?
Heero slammed out of the safehouse, without a jacket, and walked down the street. The snow was falling around him, just like in the movie Duo had tried to make him watch. He didn't want to know about past atrocities. The war he lived had enough of its own. He was Japanese... He didn't have to answer for another country's wrongs. He didn't have to care about them, either. It didn't matter to him... Did it?
He was startled by the loud sound of wings beating. He froze on the sidewalk, not moving as he listened to the forceful, stirring wing beats. The breeze that came with them slowly drifted off, and snow swirled back into its regular downward pattern. He felt warm, soft hands on the nape of his neck. He knew those hands...
he breathed.
No, Heero, not your Duo...

Why are you here?
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed youth didn't answer, merely stared at the wall.
You're perfect, he said, his voice hollow. You don't belong here.
I do... The blonde looked like he had been weak before he ever arrived at the camp. He was older that the other prisoner, by several years, but he was delicate. It was obvious that the train ride there had been more than taxing on the young man's health.
What, then? the bald boy raised one eyebrow. It looked like it pained him to do so, his skin was stretched so tightly.
My lover, the boy whispered. Unlike the violet-eyed boy, they'd left some of his hair intact. The job was usually sloppy. Not like these men and women were worth anything.
A Jew, then? the boy had a heavy accent - he didn't speak German as his native language. He had trouble with the sounds.

Yes, he is a Gypsy. He was a Gypsy.
Oh, Quatre... No...
The boy's violet eyes widened with sympathy. Oh, you, too, huh? After a moment of silence, he said, Was he good?
He was the best man I ever knew...
Mine wasn't. The bastard was married. He got scared, ratted on me. His damn wife - the bitch - payed them enough money to forget he was the one screwing my brains out...
Duo! No, please... That bastard... I hope he knows what he's done...
I'm... I'm sorry...
The emaciated prisoner looked up. Don't be. You can't afford it. You won't survive if you care about anyone but yourself in this damned, god-forsaken place.
Looking up, his eyes watery, the blonde said, Your hair... They did a good job... Are you new here?
I've been here for three years.
Then why...? You're completely bald.
You'll notice, the officer who is head of our barracks holds grudges. I struggled when they tried to cut my hair. Now they drag me in every month for a close shave. He's a tight-fisted bastard, you'll s -
shouted one of the guards. {1}
They have ears like eagles have eyes. Go to sleep, boy.
The violet-eyed boy started to turn over, when the blonde grabbed his thin sleeve.
Berühren Fass mich nicht an! the boy hissed at the newer prisoner, who snatched back his hand. {2}

Just... don't...
I just wanted to... What's your name?
came the quiet reply. The blonde noticed that the bald boy had shrunk even closer to the wall and was curled up against himself, clutching the top of the blanket.
I'm Karl Winner.
I don't have a last name, David whispered. I lost it when I cam here, along with my hair, along with Henrik.
The married one? replied the blonde, looking rather pitiful and sympathetic.
No. I didn't love him. I made love to him, yes, because he asked me to. Henrik... I never did. He sighed ever-so-quietly hand pulled the thin blanket up closer to his chin. I never touched Henrik like that, he whispered. Even now, now that I'll never see him again, I don't regret it. I don't regret it because I love him...
one of the other prisoners in their bunker whispered harshly.
Good night, David, whispered the blonde boy, before turning over and falling into fitful sleep.

Oh, God, Duo... I'm sorry...
That wasn't Duo you saw.
But... The eyes... He had to be... His voice... It was Duo...
It was me.
Yes. Duo is related to me, distantly. I survived the war, and moved to America, made a family.
Why...? How... If you loved Henrik...
Heero, I had to. Everything I had before was lost to me. I was lost. Henrik, along with my sister Hilde, was shot when they attacked my father's watch shop and took me. I couldn't stay in Germany, and I couldn't go back to Italy where my parents had moved from... I had to continue my family, in hopes that perhaps one of my sons would find the kind of love I lost...
You... You let yourself fail... You let yourself lose him! You married and forgot about Henrik!
Of course I married. I already told you, I had to. But, no, you're wrong, you must know that. I never lost him. I always loved him. When my first child was born, I still loved him. When my wife died, I still loved him. When I died, I still loved him. Now, finally, there is someone who can love like I did...
I don't... I don't understand. What about Quatre, and Trowa?
That was not Quatre, nor was his lover Trowa. Karl, that man, was in no way related to the Arab boy you know. His lover was Tawno, a Gypsy, and had no relation to Trowa Barton. It was mere karmic coincidence.
Now do you see why you should go back inside and watch the rest of that film with Duo?

Please, Heero Yuy, who thinks he doesn't need to know about the past, go back and sit with my son. He needs you. He doesn't know it, but he needs you.
I'm sorry...
Don't be... Life is no good if you're always apologizing. I believed that before I ever reached the camp. Savor life. You're too young to be so sombre. You have a gift, whether you know yet it or not, that you are destined to live a long time. This war won't kill you, just like war didn't kill me, nor will it kill my Duo.
David...? Can I ask you something, before I go?
Is... Henrik there with you, in Heaven?
Yes, Heero, he is.
Good. That's good.
Go now. Go in peace.

He opened the door, and Heero's heart dropped when Duo didn't turn around. The television screen was turned off, and Duo was staring at it blankly. Heero wondered if maybe he was asleep. He stayed still for a moment, observing. He was breathing evenly, and his head was drooped against his chest a little. Yes, Duo was asleep.
Taking advantage of the situation, Heero stood over the back of the sofa. Tentatively, he reached out, pausing, his fingers only inches away from Duo's head. David's plea in German, asking Karl not to touch him, rang in Heero's head. Would Duo mind, he wondered, if Heero touched him? He decided that Duo would most likely not even know, seeing as he was asleep, and reached down to touch the pilot's hair.
Duo didn't stir as Heero gently petted his magnificent brown hair. It was so soft, and so long, and Heero almost wanted to cry, thinking of Duo sitting there as they shaved off his locks.
The sleeping boy stirred, and Heero froze. His eyes widened as Duo leaned into his hand, which was stone-still on the side of his face, and snaked his own hand up Heero's arm. You don' have to stop, Heero... I like it...
Heero closed his eyes and exhaled carefully.
Now, finally, there is someone who can love like I did...
Quickly, impulsively, Heero bent down and leaned around Duo. He locked Duo's half-open lips with his own and kissed hard. The half-sleeping boy arched into the kiss before he opened his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering against Heero's cheek. He sighed into Heero's mouth before leaning backwards and looking the boy in the eyes.
Not that a mind, Heero, but what was that for? he asked sleepily.
Heero's lips were graced with a rare smile, and his eyes lit up. Let's just say I got a nudge in the right direction.

{1} - This means in German.
{2} - Don't touch me! in German. Thank you to lilim for correcting me on this one! Yay!