Chapter Text
Trowa: you know about kids
Duo: know what
Trowa: like, what they eat
Duo: food. kids eat food. mostly crap food
Trowa: no. the little ones
Duo: babies?
Trowa: babies. you know about babies? like, why they cry
Duo: sure.
Trowa: how soon can you be here
Duo: what's this about
Trowa: I found one
Duo: a baby?!
Trowa: yes. how soon can you be here
Duo: you don’t just find babies. well, ok. sure. people do. but you don’t. where did you find a baby? take it back
Trowa: no. can you come
Duo: fuck. fine. fine! still in the same place
Trowa: yes
Duo: give me 24 hours. Until then... fuck. pretend you’re undercover as a dad. don’t shake it! or throw knives at it. they drink formula. only that. no water. no food. just formula. go buy some
“Well, fuck. You weren’t kidding, were you?” Duo’s voice was low with laughter.
Trowa turned from the red-faced infant to see Duo standing in the doorway, braid dusted with snow, that easy, unreadable grin fixed on his face. He was five hours early, but even still, Trowa should have heard him coming. Usually would have. But the screaming made it hard to hear much of anything.
“You made it.” Trowa let out his breath in a huff of relief. “Thanks.”
“No problem. We gotta look out for each other, yeah?” Duo’s usually restless gaze was locked on the baby, and he stepped past Trowa, shucking his coat in one smooth motion and scooping the screaming infant into his arms with the same easy familiarity he usually showed guns. “Hey there, pal. Did this mean man kidnap you?”
The screaming stopped, subsiding into high, unhappy whining. Trowa watched in quiet puzzlement as Duo flipped the infant onto his shoulder, thumping it rhythmically on its back until it belched loudly. Duo always looked happy, in an abstract, untrustworthy way. But now, he wasn’t grinning. No, he was smiling, a soft, subtle expression that Trowa wasn’t sure he’d seen before. It suited him.
“I found it,” Trowa objected. “Out in the forest."
Which admittedly, wasn't saying much. Trowa's place was surrounded by forest on all sides, a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere, where no one thought to bother him, no one came who wasn't invited. The forests were empty. Finding a baby had been unexpected.
“Hear that pal?” Duo asked, bouncing up and down on his toes, his usual restless rhythm seeming to suit the infant perfectly. “Trowa says he found you in a tree. Now, where are your parents?”
“Dead.” Trowa had seen too much to shy away from unpleasant memories, but he still wished he hadn’t found that little campsite. The winter had been mild until a week ago, when a blizzard had come on without warning. The couple had clearly been living rough for months. They must have thought they could weather the storm.
They hadn’t. The infant had. He’d found it wrapped in nearly every blanket and scrap of clothing they had, with the woman's bare, blue body curled around the bundle. The man had been about two hundred feet away, heading for help, maybe.
Duo’s gaze jerked in his direction, eyebrows raised.
“I didn’t kill them.”
“‘Course you didn’t,” Duo said, as if the unspoken question had never been unspoken. “Other relatives?”
“They were hiding. Looked like they had a reason. I’m not sending it back to whatever they were running from.” He locked his gaze with Duo’s and spoke with careful clarity. “It’s mine, Duo. Just show me how to take care of it."
Duo went quiet, and Trowa wondered if he’d miscalculated. Duo lived on the gray side of the law, even now. Did he really care about the infant's rightful owner?
“Right. Fine. Let’s do this. Congratulations, Trowa, you’re a Daddy.” Duo lifted the infant from his shoulder, holding it at arm's length and frowning. “First, babies come in 'she,' 'he,' and if you don’t want to make assumptions ‘they.’”
“It’s a she.”
That's a start, eh, pal?” The infant was starting to struggle in his arms, though with none of the ferocity that it, or she, showed Trowa. She seemed to like him, instantly. People did that with Duo. Even Heero. Even Trowa, for that matter. There was a comfort to his company that went beyond just the way he'd made the screaming stop.
Trowa had been keeping to himself for years. It was better that way. People were too easy to get lost in. Even Quatre, who's friendship was a rock in Trowa's life, got a little overwhelming sometimes. He had such high hopes for Trowa. For everyone.
But Duo was different. Maybe it was the stealth training. He could fill a room one minute and disappear the next. Seeing him, well, Trowa hadn't realized how lonely he'd been. On reflection, maybe his decision to not exactly kidnap a kid should have been a clue.
The baby was opening and closing her mouth like a desperate fish.
“She's hungry,” Trowa said. He'd learned that much.
“Let's get you some grub, kiddo.” Duo swung her around to face front, propping her on his arms. “She needs a name.”
“I’m not good at names. You do it.”
Duo had found the bottle and formula without difficulty, though he seemed less than impressed with Trowa’s kitchen. Shifting the baby to one arm, he turned on the tap, letting the water run over the inside of his wrist. “You’re the one who wants to keep her.”
“I’m no one,” Trowa said, as Duo measured out formula. “I stole a name so I could steal a Gundam, and I still use it.”
Duo set down the bottle, and once again Trowa was treated to a gaze that had none of his manic energy, none of his devil-may-care grin. Just measured, thoughtful, observation, reminding Trowa that the war was so long ago now that he’d lived as long since as he had prior. Fifteen years could change a person. They’d clearly changed Duo.
He wasn’t sure what they’d done to him.
“You’re Trowa Barton,” Duo said, with some force. “And I’m Duo Maxwell. Doesn’t matter where we got the names, they’re ours now. We are who we say we are.”
The baby in Duo's arms turned her dark eyes on him, waving her fat fists at the bottle Duo was holding.
“C'mon, let's get her fed. You don't gotta name her right away. But we need something to forge on her birth certificate.” Duo looked down at the baby, then back at Trowa, almost tentative. “You want me to stay a couple days? Your daughter seems to like me all right.”
His daughter? Well, what else could you call her? She was struggling against Duo's grasp, mouth wide open, but still not screaming. Why was he so good with her, anyway?
“Yes," he said, ignoring his own instinct to retreat, to stay quiet and alone and centered. “Please stay.”