Chapter 56: Seeking Duo
St. Margaret’s Hospital
Friday,
Like a mad man, I dash
through the opening sliding doors, panting breathlessly as fevered eyes dart
around the nearly crowded emergency room. I can see no sign of Saito, who
called me barely half an hour ago to tell me the news about Eleanor. Since I
have no car, and the bus wouldn’t have arrived until another half hour, I ran
all the way here, barely thinking twice about my decision. All I could see was
Duo’s stricken face as he stood in the hospital room staring at his mother’s
immobile figure. I imagined him breaking down in tears, too distraught to make
coherent sentences. I cursed as I ran down the street, wishing we hadn’t argued
over the phone, wanting only to hold him as close to me as possible. The
knowledge that he’s lost both parents in the space of year…it’s too darn much
for anyone to take.
I run up to the information
desk and knock on the plexi-glass window impatiently. A weary-looking nurse,
who looks no older than twenty, walks up with a sheaf of papers in her hands.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, there was a patient
brought in here…well, she’s not really a patient anymore…but…Maxwell? Eleanor
Maxwell? Where is she?”
She purses her pink lips in a
pout and then turns to call out to a male nurse behind her. “Robert? Do we have
a Eleanor Maxwell admitted?”
Robert replies, “Will check
it out. Gimme a minute.”
A minute?!
My mind races frantically. I have to see Duo! Now!
“Heero senpai?”
I turn around so fast, I
almost give myself whiplash. Kamui’s standing behind me, his face red and puffy
from crying so much. He’s sniffling and before I can stop him, he throws
himself against me, my arms barely fast enough to steady him. He speaks in
broken sobs against my chest and my cheeks flush in embarrassment at the all
the stares we’re beginning to receive. I can barely hear what he’s saying, but
I manage to push him away slightly to ask slowly.
“Where is your father?”
Kamui tries to form some
words, but decides to simply nod in the direction of a never-ending corridor on
our right. Thanking the nurse quickly – they are apparently still searching for
Eleanor’s name – I guide the trembling Kamui towards one of the smaller waiting
rooms, mind churning with a million questions. But first…
“Is Duo here?”
Kamui shakes his head. “Not
yet,” he whispers.
I frown in bemusement. That
couldn’t be right. Duo was much closer to the hospital than I was. He did have
dinner with Harold in some exclusive restaurant in the city, so why isn’t he
here yet? Is his bike stuck somewhere? I’m sure Saito must have called him
first. And speaking of the devil, Kamui ushers me into the room – well, it’s
only the slumped figure sitting on a chair that occupies it – and I swear my
heart skips a beat at the different man I see before me. Gone is the confident
and charismatic air that seems to surround the minister at all times. His
usually impeccably coiffed hair is in unruly spikes, as if he’s been running
his hands through it all night. His face looks drawn, pale and devoid of color.
His eyes are red-rimmed and there’s no attempt to wipe away the tears that keep
sliding down his cheeks. His expensive-looking suit is rumpled, the jacket
flung over another chair, tie tugged to lie in an uneven shape against his
pristine white shirt. He looks ten times older than his age and even though a
part of me still distrusts him, at this very moment, I feel nothing but pity
and sadness. He really did love Eleanor, plans for a new life together had been
in the works and for it to be taken away from him –
“You came,” he finally croaks,
lifting his haunted gaze to mine as he struggles to stand to his feet. He gives
up the fight and slumps down again, hands clenching tightly as if to stop the
trembling. “Thank God, you came.”
I nod, not sure of what to
say. I’m not good at comforting people and I’m not about to start making a fool
of myself. I sit in an empty chair and stare blindly at the large fake plant
that occupies one side of the room. The coffee table in the middle is filled
with magazines – mostly medical journals – and the itch to pick one up
(something to do really) has me shifting restlessly. We are all waiting for Duo
to show up I guess – the deceased’s living relative to confirm what is so
obvious.
“She…she…” Saito hitches in a
sob and rubs his eyes quickly. “She wasn’t drunk…not at all. They say…she
wasn’t focused….just…ran right into the truck. I don’t…I don’t understand. She
sounded fine earlier in the day…happy that she was moving over and then…”
I bite my lower lip hard,
lowering my gaze to the beige carpet as memories of the vivacious woman fill my
mind. I try to push away the images of the crazed, jealous and bitter woman Duo
and I had met the first time, and settle for the happier Eleanor who had
finally found love with the most unlikely person. She had a smile as wide as
her son’s, her hair to match his and a disposition that mirrored Duo’s in every
way. I never knew Daniel, but I knew Eleanor and her passing away, knowing I’d
never hear that voice or see that face, finally sinks with a sudden punch to
the gut.
Kamui’s crying again – softly
this time – as he sits beside his father. I swallow the lump in my throat and
excuse myself quickly; more to get some air and call Duo to find out where he
is.
In the corridor (I finally
notice the silent figures of the secret service men – I had forgotten they tend
to follow Saito whenever he goes out), I pull out my cell phone and call Duo…only
to get his recorded message after the first ring.
Fuck!
I glance at my watch. It’s
been almost an hour since Saito must have called him. This is crazy! I would
have thought Duo would be here seconds after Saito finished with him. I don’t
even know Harold’s phone number or I would have called him to find out Duo’s
whereabouts. I decide to give Wufei a ring.
“What’s up?” he asks.
I explain the situation to
him. “Holy shit,” he whispers in shock. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” I reply, leaning
against the thick landscape windows that look out into the parking lot,
searching desperately for that familiar black machine. “Duo’s not here yet.
He’s not picking up his phone and I’m getting worried,” I finally confess,
realizing that darn stubborn lump doesn’t want to disappear. “Could you run by
the apartment and see if he’s there? He might have gone to pick up a few things
or…something.”
“Leave it to me,” Wufei says
in reassurance. “I’ll call the others to help with the search. What’s Harold’s
number though?”
“Dunno. Which
is the frustrating thing. I should have added it to my list when he gave
it to us last time.” I run fingers through my hair restlessly.
“Hmm….can I get into your
apartment? You don’t have an alarm system or anything, do you?”
I try not to laugh at that.
“No, no alarm system. You can find a spare key…” I reveal our hidden location
for whenever Duo and I accidentally lose our keys or lock ourselves out.
“There’s a big address book under the coffee table – Duo filled it with
everyone’s address and numbers we know – I think Harold’s number should be
there. When you find it, give me a call, okay?”
“Got it. I’m on my way now.”
“Thanks, Wufei.”
“No problem. Are you going to
call the others, or should I?”
I shake my head. “I’ll call.”
I figure it’s the easiest way to do this. The reaction is the same when I call
Trowa, Quatre, Relena (who breaks down before I can finish), Hilde and Dorothy.
I have no doubt they’ll all come here even though I do my best to convince them
it’s not necessary. My most important priority is to find Duo.
Trowa hands me a cup of
coffee, which I accept gratefully, before he makes his way to Quatre. The girls are still on their way,
but not before they promise they’ll search for Duo in a few places. We all sit
in silence in the waiting room. Saito and Kamui have fallen into a light doze
and the minutes tick by ever so slowly, like a death knell (no pun intended) as
the one we’re all waiting for still fails to show up.
My phone rings and I pick it
up quickly, hoping and praying it’s Duo, but seeing it’s Wufei, I groan, but
answer anyway. “Got it?”
“Yeah,” comes his reply. “Got
a pen?”
I motion towards Quatre and
Trowa for a writing instrument and Quatre pulls out a pen from his pocket. His
fair features look even paler tonight and I don’t blame him. This isn’t the
sort of news you want to hear on a night like this. “Got a pen now,” I speak to
Wufei. “What’s the number?”
Moments later, with Wufei
saying he’s on his way, I dial Harold’s number in the safety of the hallway and
away from my friends, heart pounding hard within my chest. On the third dial, a
weary voice comes on the line.
“Harold Winters.”
“Mr. Winters,” I begin
slowly, trying hard not to blurt out my words. “Mr. Winters, is Duo with you?”
“Who is this?” he asks
warily.
“Heero Yuy…Duo’s friend.”
“Oooh. I apologize, Heero,”
he says with a much more relaxed tone. “Your number shows up as private on my
caller ID and I was concerned. But to answer your question, no, Duo is not with
me. Dinner was finished over an hour ago. Is everything okay?”
Panic is beginning to set in,
but in a level voice, I ask again. “Duo…did he pick up any phone calls when you
were with him?”
“Hmm…well he did excuse
himself to use the bathroom and I saw him speaking on the phone in the
hallway…”
“No, no!” That must have been
his call to me. “After that. Did he speak on the phone after that? Please
think, sir!”
“Oh dear, he didn’t,” Harold
says, now concern in his voice. “What’s going on, Heero?”
I tell him about Eleanor’s
passing and his sharp intake of breath is accompanied by his decision to come
to the hospital immediately. Great. Even more folks to join the circus. He
hangs up before I can stop him, just as I hear the familiar voice of Relena
heading towards me. Before I can get a word out, she hugs me tightly, crying
and sorry for the loss. Good grief! She should be saying this to Duo, not me!
Where the hell are you?! Everyone’s here for you, Duo!
Where are you?!
Saito awakens to the sound of
more voices, surprise etched on his features as my friends all offer him words
of condolence and encouragement.
“No sign of Duo yet?” Trowa
asks as he joins me in the corridor. I keep staring at the entrance, hoping to
see that familiar gait of my partner and friend. My worry that he’s so
distraught that he’s gone to kill himself fills me with a fear that’s palpable.
Suddenly all our arguments about school and college seems trivial and
unimportant. How short life is. One moment, you could be looking forward to a
new life and the next, you’re gone. No fanfare, no warnings. Just…gone.
“I have to find him,” I say
frantically. “I have to…!”
“Calm down, Heero,” Trowa
reassures me gently but firmly as he places his hands upon my shoulders. “The
girls said they checked out the diners and the library…”
“The library would be closed
by now!”
“Do you want us to check the
school?”
I stare at him dumbly. “What?
Why…?!”
“We don’t mind,” Quatre
chimes in. “Who knows? Maybe he just drove off to think somewhere. We’ll check
the school. Someone might want to check Eleanor’s apartment. You have the
passcode to the gate, right, Heero?”
“Yeah…but….what if he comes
here and I miss him…”
Trowa interrupts with a small
smile. “If he comes, I’m sure one of the girls will call you. Come on, let’s
go.”
“I’ll take him,” Wufei says
as he jogs towards us. He’s just arriving and looks out of breath. “It will be
faster that way.”
In mere minutes, after
explaining our plans to the girls, Saito and Kamui, I find myself in Wufei’s
car, stiff as board and eager to get this search over and done with.
“So…he didn’t call you at
all?” Wufei asks as we speed through the streets.
I shake my head, not trusting
myself to speak. I stare hard out the window, imagining every male figure is
Duo just wandering around, lost and confused and in need of my help.
“He…he wouldn’t anyway,” I
mutter. “We had another fight.”
Wufei gives a sound of
exasperation and rolls his eyes. “Not over that crap again.”
My lips tighten, but I say
nothing. Yes, it is crap now in the grand scheme of things, but it was our
lives we were talking about. Thankfully, Wufei says nothing else as we pull up
to the exclusive apartment complex. Punching in the codes to give us access, we
drive through the quiet streets, my heart now drumming a steady staccato within
my chest. There’s something so darn creepy about driving to a home that no
longer has an occupant – in this case a deceased one, and even as we pull up to
the curb, I know Duo’s not here. Besides his bike not being in the vicinity,
the desolate and dark condo has me closing my eyes and groaning in misery.
“Let’s go,” I mumble.
“Hold on,” Wufei says,
already leaving the car to walk up the driveway. I watch as he knocks on the
door, and peers through the window with its drawn shades. Ever persistent, he
walks around the building. I’m left to watch his lean figure disappear within
the shadows and a shiver courses through me. I hug myself tightly and slump
lower on the seat, staring blankly at the empty boulevard - except for two
late-night joggers – and try to block away all the good memories we’ve had
within the house just feet away from me.
My phone suddenly rings and I
reach for it desperately. But it’s only Trowa.
“No. He’s not in school…at
least not in the obvious places.”
My heart sinks even lower.
“We saw no signs of his bike
and we managed to sneak into the building, climbed the roof…nothing. Sorry,
Heero,” he adds in apology as if guilty for not finding our elusive friend.
“It’s fine,” I reply with a
small nod. “Thanks for searching anyway.”
“Any luck over there?”
I shake my head just as Wufei
returns with a frustrated look on his visage. “No, no luck here either. We’re
going back to the hospital.”
St. Margaret’s Hospital
Saturday,
I wake up with a start,
blinking rapidly as I try to make sense of where I am. A crick in my neck is a
reminder that I’ve been sleeping on a chair, and as I sit up slowly, the warm
blanket slides down to my waist. The waiting room is now almost empty, my
friends having left earlier because their parents would be pissed with them for
staying out too long. Understandable enough. Harold is fast asleep in a chair
across me. Kamui is at home – his father insisted he leave to get some rest,
while Saito himself is by the window with a cup of coffee in his hand, staring
blindly at nothing in particular.
There’s still no sign of Duo.
I struggle to my feet,
wincing at the pins and needles that sear through them. Saito eyes me and
manages a wan smile. “You should go back home, Heero. If Duo comes, I’ll be
sure to call you.”
But I’m already shaking my
head. “No, I’m fine, sir. I just need to use the restroom.”
He tells me the direction and
I walk slowly down the quiet corridor with its white marble floor and high
ceiling. Each step is heavier than the last. My eyes feel like they’re burning
and my throat is raw. However, it’s only when I stare at my pale face in the
mirror of the restroom that I realize I must have been crying…in my sleep? Shit! I wash my face quickly,
embarrassed at showing that moment of weakness in front of Saito or Harold. Had
they heard me? Did they think I was a helpless kid who couldn’t take control of
a situation?
“Damn it!” I pound my fist
against the wall – again and again and again and again. Ignoring the fine
trickle of blood against my knuckles. I wonder who gives that tortured cry of
suffering. Who is the young man leaning against the wall and sliding to the
floor, raising his knees to his chest and burying his face against them to cry
like a baby? That can’t be me, surely. I don’t cry like that. Not for anyone…no
one at all…
But him.
Just come back,
I beg inwardly. Please…just come back,
Duo…please…
Saturday
“You should eat something,”
Harold says as he chews on his biscuit slowly. “You don’t look so well, Heero.”
I glare at him and he holds
up his hands in surrender. I stare at the plate of sausages and congealed
scrambled eggs before me, not even entertaining the thought of swallowing that.
I have ignored the phone calls received from my friends already, in no mood to
speak to anyone unless the letters D-U-O show up on my caller ID.
“Perhaps we should call the
police,” Harold finally says – the dreaded words/option I didn’t want to say or
think about. I grip the edge of the table tightly, struggling not to scream.
“Why? What are you trying to
say?”
“It’s just a suggestion,
Heero,” Harold says quietly. “I don’t want to think about it either, but if
they can help us find him faster…”
“We don’t need the police,” I
reply in a much sharper voice than I intended. “He’ll come. I know he will.”
Harold nods in acceptance. “I
believe he will too. However, hospital policy needs to have his consent first
before any other measures are taken. If he doesn’t show up in a week…”
“He’ll show,” I snap
impatiently, pushing myself away from the table. “Please excuse me.” I leave
the cafeteria and make my way back to the waiting room. Thankfully Saito is no
longer around. He’s gone back to get a change of clothes and should be
returning later in the afternoon. I sit for a few restless minutes and deciding
that doing nothing isn’t going to help, I try to spend my time walking within
the building with the hope that no one will stop me to ask meaningless
questions.
The hospital is huge, that
much is certain. I walk through the emergency wards with its frenzied
atmosphere, to the radiology department, pathology department, and outpatient
center, pediatric ward – quite colorful and noisy, to the burn center and
finally back to the short-stay ward where I spy a familiar figure in a white
lab coat.
“Dr. G?”
The weird-looking man of
medicine spins around at his name and eyes me warily. “And who may I ask is
bothering the hell out of me now? You don’t look like an intern.”
For some reason, seeing this
man who has treated Duo on more than one occasion gets me tongue-tied and
unable to say the words now lodged in my throat. Goddamnit! I’m a fucking
wreck.
“Hmm.” Dr. G stares at me for
a minute longer, then seems to nod to the nurse whose been waiting for his
signature or something. “Take these to the desk, Katherine, and hold off any
calls for the next ten minutes.”
“Yes, doctor.”
Once she’s out of sight, Dr.
G motions to me with a crook of his finger. “In here, boy. You look like you’re
about to pass out in a second.”
I’m ushered into a spacious
office with a large oak desk cluttered with documents and a flat screen computer
that shows a backdrop of swimming molecules. There’s a picture of a smiling
woman who looks like his mother on the desk. Two brown couches and a coffee
table with several books and magazines strewn across it make up the décor of
the room. There are two large shelves with even more medical journals and books
– so many there’s hardly enough room to
keep them all – and on the walls are elegant-looking framed accolades and
awards he has received.
“Sit down,” he commands as he
takes his place behind the desk and I sink into the black leather seat across
from him. “Now, don’t get any funny ideas, boy, I’m not a shrink and I’m not
going to sweet talk you or try to make you feel better over your situation.
However, if memory serves me correctly, you’re that troublemaker friend of my
troublemaker patient Duo Maxwell. What’s he done this time? Fallen and broken
both legs? Lying dead on the street somewhere? Wouldn’t surprise me in the
slightest. That kid is so damn accident prone it’s…hmm?”
Oh God! Just shut the hell up!
“His mother is dead,” I say
quietly, my hands tight fists on my lap for fear that I’ll punch this bastard’s
lights out. “And I can’t find him anywhere.”
I expect him to look shocked,
remorseful at his poor choice of words or something, but instead he only gives
a nod and then rises to his feet to pace to the window.
“Not surprised really,” he
finally says. “Maxwell’s a fool when it comes to matters of Death. He thinks
he’s invincible and defies it at every turn. You must understand that he’s a
young man who’s been surrounded by it most of his life. In the orphanage, not
many kids make it out of there alive…he lived on the streets for a while,
goodness knows what he’s seen and has saved you the gory details.”
He turns around to stare at
me, so intensely it’s all I can do to hold his gaze steady. “Let him grieve
alone for a while, Yuy…”
“But what if he’s…!”
“Killed himself?” The doctor
gives a bark of a laugh. “Like he’d do such a thing. He hasn’t got the balls to
take his own life! And for what? Over a mother he’s just known for about a
year?”
“You don’t understand…”
“No, sonny. You’re the one
who’s refusing to see the big picture. Sure they must have bonded and had some
good quality time together, but Duo will not take his own life. He has you to
live for after all.”
My heart skips a bit at the
revelation, heat suffusing through me at the simple words of devotion. It’s no
surprise that Dr. G would know such a thing. Duo’s been in here many times
before and both of them must have talked about different things…me included.
A strong hand on my shoulder
jerks me from my reverie.
“Give him some time,” he says
with a semblance of a smile. “He’ll come back to you. I’m sure. Now get out of
my office, go home and take a shower or something. Look decent for chrissakes!”
I nod slowly, feeling much
better than I have in hours. “Than…”
But before I can finish, he’s
already on the phone and waving his hand at me in impatience. Get the hell out, it says and I give a
weak but grateful smile. For all his gruffness, he really is a kind man. Maybe
that’s why Duo sticks with him. On my way out of his office, I notice the small
picture on a shelf and my smile falters, my heart breaking again at the
familiar sight. It’s a scowling Dr. G posing beside Duo on a hospital bed (must
have been after the bike incident). He is holding up his fingers in a peace
sign with an impossible grin on his face. It’s the face of a boy who can laugh
in the face of danger; a young man who can clearly take of himself – with or without
my help.
Our Apartment
Sunday,
I can’t sleep.
I’m curled up in bed wearing
Duo’s favorite sleep shirt, my arms around his favorite pillow, inhaling the
scent of his hair shampoo…his body…everything. Every fucking thing reminds me
of him, and it’s been torture living in the empty apartment, holding my breath
each time I think I hear footsteps outside the door, peeking outside every
other hour for a sign of him, only to be disappointed time and time again.
Dr. G says I have to give him
time, but just how much? It’s been almost two days now. Two days of not hearing
from or speaking to him. I think this is the longest we’ve been separated since
we met.
My cell phone rings and I
lift my lashes slowly, feeling too weak and mentally exhausted to pick it up.
It’s probably going to be one of the girls or the guys or Harold or Saito
wanting something from me. I’ve shut myself away from the rest of the world,
hardly eating a thing as it all tastes like lead in my mouth.
I just want to be left alone.
It’s not too much to ask, is it? But the damn phone continues to
ring…ring…ring…
Stop calling me. Stop calling me. Stop calling me….
Fuck. I must have dozed off
after all.
There’s a heavy pounding
somewhere and I assume my head is making the sound. I groan and bury my face
within Duo’s pillow, but the pounding is incessant, and to be honest, it’s
driving me nuts. I cover my head with the pillow and pray it stops.
Go away. Go away. Go away.
In moments, merciful silence
takes over and I sigh in relief. I’m not getting up from here until I know it’s
Duo.
Duo…my Duo…
I have ten new messages.
Two from Relena (one yelling
at me to get off my lazy ass!), one from Wufei (he came by…must have been the
one pounding on my door), one from Trowa (still searching), one from Quatre
(searching as well), two from Harold (how am I doing? Eating well? Getting some
rest?), one from Kamui (hope I’m doing well senpai), one from Saito (thank you
for coming) and one from…
Heero? I…
And that’s it, but I don’t
need a rocket scientist to tell me whose voice it belongs to. With my heart
rate rising alarmingly, I replay the message again.
Heero? I…
Heero? I…
Heero? I…
“Where are you?!” I yell into
the phone in frustration. Heero? I what?? I’m sorry? I’m lost? I’m…where?! “You
son-of-a-bitch!” I’m unaware of the tears that are now falling down helplessly.
“Don’t do this to me, Duo! You hear me?! Don’t…!” I give up and throw the phone
away with a scream, sinking into the bed and praying for death. I don’t know if
I can take this anymore. I’m supposed to be strong for him…for both of us and
yet…
Oh, God…help me…
I open my eyes to darkness,
except for the lights from the street lamps outside. There’s a searing ache
within my head and I feel sick. I need to get up…to use the restroom…to wash my
face (which feels caked with tears) and maybe get something solid in my
stomach. I swing trembling legs off the bed, only to stiffen, my entire body on
alert and the hairs on the nape of my neck standing on end at the low sound.
The door. Someone’s trying to get in!
“Duo,” I croak through
parched lips, knowing it’s him. PRAYING it’s him. Staggering to my feet and all
but running to the door to throw it open, I think of what to say; how to tell
him that I forgive him and that I love him so much it hurts and that...
“Duo…!”
He falls forward, a movement
so sudden that it takes us both by surprise and we end up falling to the floor
in a heap. He’s cold and wet (I barely notice it’s drizzling), shivering and sobbing
against me as I hold him tightly.
I choke back my sob of
relief, burying my face against his neck, and squeezing him so tight I have no
concern if I break his ribs, not that he’s not doing the same to me. I can
barely breathe as he clutches me in a death grip, our bodies rocking back and
forth slowly – as the two of us seek for the comfort and solace we so
desperately need.
~End Period Fifty-Six~