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Hilde is used to waiting up for Duo, even if she hates it every time. She hated it during the war and, even after promises, he’d still do it. Like now. She knew that it was just a part of him, a part she would have to accept if she was to love him.
She isn’t afraid to be by herself. In fact, after her parents had died, she had grown used to it. But she had wanted more. She loves Duo, but wordlessly resents how easily he can remove himself from a situation with a charming smile and gentle apology. She can’t come and go as easily, and that worries her.
What would happen if she needed him? What would happen if he never came back?
He always does, she repeats to herself. He always comes back to her. She repeats that, over and over as she waits. He isn’t usually this late or this quiet, though.
She checks the phone again. No messages.
Either it was himself or it was Heero. That has to be the reason. Apparently, Heero has been off-kilter lately. Those were Duo’s throw-away words: off-kilter.
“You know how he is,” Duo would say and she’d smile, but, no, she didn’t know. She never really connected, not with him and not with the other pilots. To Hilde, they seemed elitist, even Quatre. They seemed too aloof and exclusive. She had no place with them, and she felt it acutely.
Honestly, she felt like Duo was better than any of them. He was authentic. He was charming. He was practical and matter-of-fact. From the first moment she met him, she felt an instant attraction. That was Duo – he just attracted people to him, like a light amidst moths.
But she got to see the sides he never showed others, that he barely showed her. Moments like this, when he would disappear for hours. The moments that he would kick awake from his sleep and pace the house. The moments he would space out, deep in thought, with a darkness on his face that worried her.
She thought the therapy, even with Heero, would be a good idea. Maybe he could find some peace within himself in therapy. But the more he went, the deeper his trances became, the more nights he would kick awake, and the more the nights were like this one – Hilde waiting for him to come home.
She started getting a cold drop in her stomach when she would see it written on the calendar, “Looneybin 6pm” in Duo’s tight lettering. She knew those days, he would come home and push himself, over-compensating for something, laughing a little too hard at her jokes and shying away from her touch. Or he would come back late, smelling of strong mints and sweat.
It wasn’t that she thought he was cheating, but just felt the sting of being left behind. He didn’t want her there with him, whatever he was going through. She couldn’t follow because he wouldn’t let her.
It’s 3:14 A.M. when the door softly, almost reticently, clicks open. He notices her immediately on the couch and tightly smiles.
“You’re up?”
“Yeah,” she says, puts aside her book, “Of course I would be. You didn’t even call me.”
“Yeah, sorry,” he says, but it sounds different this time. It sounds contrived. He looks rough. He looks like hell, actually.
“Duo, what happened-”
“Can we just not talk about it right now?” he asks, strained. Takes off his boots and jacket, tries to put them away but the jacket falls off the rack. He doesn’t bend to pick it back up.
“Duo…” She voices her concern, but he just shakes his head. No, now’s not the time.
He walks up the stairs and she slowly follows him. She just watches as he peels off his shirt and pants, not even getting into pajamas, just collapses on his side of the bed. She gets into her side of the bed. He turns away from her and feels like he’s miles away.
“Hey,” she whispers, concerned, runs a palm over his arm. He allows it, but tenses and she can feel that flex. “It’s going to be okay.”
Shifting, she gets closer, fear and worry embedded in her breastbone, stinging the tense muscles there. She puts her arm around him, spoons him, feels the cold of his body.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispers again, hopes, prays, that he’ll turn around and kiss her and smile, like always.
But he doesn’t. And he isn’t so sure if things really will be okay…
Eventually, she relaxes, her breathing shallow and even, but he’s still awake.
He’s still awake.
***
“I’m sorry,” he says, and he’s been apologizing a lot lately.
“It’s okay, Duo, I know that you need your space-”
He shakes his head and takes another anxious sip from his coffee.
“This isn’t going to be an easy conversation,” he tells her, plainly. She freezes, feeling that dark honesty seep into the silence between them.
“Okay,” she hesitates. She flinches and he sees it. It makes him feel worse.
“You, uh, you are terrific,” he starts, “You’ve been way better to me than I probably deserve.”
She wants to speak. She has a million questions, but the expression on his face quiets her.
“You are…amazing. You’ve always been amazing, Hil. Smart and funny,” he stumbles through, moves the mug with his calloused fingers around in lazy circles on their table. “I mean in the war and after. You were always my rock.”
‘Oh God’, she thinks and doesn’t know what the words will be, but knows how they’ll end.
“Why are you doing this? What are you talking about?” She cuts through her panic and all the questions tumble out, “Duo, this isn’t like you. We- We’re a team. Why are you acting like this? Why won’t you let me help you?”
There’s a small, pained smile pushing against his lips. He swallows it, along with another bland sip of coffee. Her anger feels better than her casual acceptance. He wants her to be angry. She should be.
“I think…” he starts, tapping his fingertips to the wooden table, the table they bought together a month ago, “I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I thought I was ready...and I don't think I am.”
“I don’t understand. Duo! What are you saying?” But she knows. She knows and it makes her feel suddenly incomplete, suddenly a failure.
“I, uh…I think I might have rushed things,” he admits, “I think I was shooting too fast and too high. I, uh…I don’t think I should have done this.”
“Duo, that’s crazy, we’ve talked about this during the war-”
“We talked about living together,” he says quietly, quieter than she’s used to. “I shouldn’t have…I rushed this. I need time to think.”
“Do you…Do you not want to marry me?” She asks the hard question, but not wanting the answer.
He sighs, index finger tracing the ring the heat the mug had made, “I don’t know and that’s how I know that I’m not ready.”
It knocks her down. She’s breathless. She finally understands why people call something like this “a punch to the gut” because it’s exactly that. It’s that and so much more. She can feel everywhere drain of oxygen and feeling. In her hands, in her toes. Face and stomach. She can feel everything atrophy. It’s just all numbness and aching, mixed inside her everywhere.
“…But,” she whispers, “But you asked me…”
“I know,” he agrees, “And I know I’m not being fair or…All I can say is that I’m sorry. Really, truly sorry. That was my mistake. It was a really, really horrible mistake.”
“Do you-” Her voice catches, but she pushes through it, “Do you love me?”
“Yeah…” He admits, but looks down at his hands. “I do, but…I don’t know if I’m ready for forever.”
There’s a flash of anger ignited inside her. She thinks of all the times they talked about the wedding, all the dresses she tried on, all the cakes and colors and napkins – months! Months of planning and laughing and preparation! He could have said at anytime then! He could have stopped it instead of getting her hopes up, instead of dragging this along! How many hours had she wasted? How much money did they save for it? Everything was wasted - everything a lie. A damned and beautiful and awful lie!
She filters the anger, but it’s there, “Why didn’t you say anything? Duo, you wasted so much time! You helped every step of the way. Why now?”
This is another barrier that he was half-hoping to avoid completely. But she deserved the truth. She deserved a lot better than him.
“I’m still trying to figure out myself. I, uh,” he laughs mirthlessly because it is funny, this whole set-up is hilarious if it hadn’t been them, if this was someone else, “I have to figure out my feelings. I just kinda rushed into this because I thought this was what was best. I just kinda went with the flow, but...I had thought that…”
He huffs out the tight breath he was holding. Rip that band-aid off, Duo. It wouldn’t do them any good if he didn’t lay it all out on the table. It wouldn’t do him any good if he held this back from her. If they were going to have a future, if he was going to understand this, it had to be real and honest.
“Heero-” He starts and sees her face twist in disgust, in fury, but he trudges on, “Heero said that…he’s got a thing for me.”
She scoffs, “So?! So what? How does that matter if-”
“It matters to me,” he says, lowly, gently, and that’s when her tears well in her eyes.
“You’re just- I don’t-” She struggles with it, with holding back, with being patient and supportive and loving, “Goddamn it, Duo. You asked me.”
He nods, “I know. I’m sorry-”
“Stop saying that! Don’t be sorry!”
“What do you want me to say? I need to tell you the truth.”
“I want you to be mine!” But as soon as she shouts it, she knows it isn’t true. As much as she wanted it, as much as she waited for it, it wasn’t true. He’s not like that, maybe never would be like that. He was always moving and she was always trailing after him. He had his own space and sometimes, if you were lucky, really lucky, he would share it with you...
Pulling in a deep, sharp breath, he tells her, “Hilde, I love you. I do. But…I have to figure this out. I jumped in all this without even thinking and that’s on me. And I know that hurts you and I…I’m a fuck-up. Okay? I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I need to know what I’m doing with my life. I need to figure out what this means…before I can say, 'hell yes, forever, you bet'.”
“Do you love him?” Hilde asks, desperation in the tears as she brushes them hastily away.
His eyes are sad when they find hers. He knew this would be hard, but it feels like drudging up years of rotted vegetation. It feels heavy and thick. “I don’t know. I used to…I used to a long time ago.”
She slumps back in her seat, deflated, tired as if all the energy was sucked out of her. “Why did you never say anything?”
Shrugging, he searches for the words, for the explanation. “I didn’t think there was anything to it…I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t think you’d…look at me the same. I didn’t think you’d be okay with me being friends with him…with living so close to him…”
“Oh my God,” she mumbles, now with her own sad smile and dips her head. “Oh my God…you’re still in love with him. That’s why you didn’t want to move back out in the colonies. You…God, you’re such an asshole, Duo Maxwell. You…”
"I-" he starts but realizes that he doesn't have any words besides an apology. Because he isn't sure what the feelings are any more, amorphously moving throughout the years. The hormonal desire of his youth. His joking acceptance of Heero and Relena's relationship. His real happiness and stifled disappointment at their wedding. The bittersweet words of Heero's admission and his refusal of them.
And Heero...Heero had come to him so late in the game. After Duo had moved on, after he gave his best fucking man speech. After he bought a ring and Hilde said yes.
And then he threw everything head-over-ass and just fucking left.
But here is Duo and Duo can't lie like Heero can. Duo can't just shove everything back all neat and tidy-like. Everything is cut open and left to bleed out.
And it isn't Hilde's fault, and Duo feels like a shit for this. But he can't keep going on long drives, can't keep hiding the liquor around the house, can't keep acting like things will be fine when they might not be. He feel both so young and so old, all at once. Suffocated and restless. Eager and useless.
He needs space.
She allows the tears to wet her face. “You made me love you and…you made me believe that I could.”
He turns around the mug, still warm, in his hands. “I just don’t know what I want in my life right now…or in the future…I just can’t keep dragging you along if I don’t know. It’s not all Heero, either, that was just the catalyst. I just…started thinking. I’ve been thinking all night.
“For Christ’s sake, Hilde, I’m nineteen. I’ve piloted a goddamn gundam. I’ve stopped a war. I’ve wrestled with death who knows how many times. And I…I think I just went with the flow afterwards with what I thought people were supposed to do, but the truth is that…I don’t want to be done. I don’t want to settle down right now. I don’t want kids and taxes and dinner parties.
“I’m in the prime of my life and there’s still so much that I haven’t done yet. There’s places I’ve never gone to that I always wanted to see. There’s things I’ve never done. There’s more in life that I want to feel that I won’t get here-”
“With me?” She cuts in.
He frowns, loosely. “….Yeah.”
Silence settles into the small kitchen, where there is usually so much laughter and conversation. It feels unnatural. It feels like an intruder, to both of them.
“What do we do now?” She asks, maybe to him or maybe herself.
“I’ll tell everyone that…it’s postponed…And…I just need some time and space right now to figure out things.”
“Are you- Will you stay?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know yet.”
Here she was again, waiting for Duo. She knew she loved him from the first moment she saw him. She loved his rebelliousness, his easy-go-lucky heart. She was so deeply and painfully in love with him. She knew it wasn’t fair of him to ask it from her, just as he knew it. And she knew that he would let her go if she walked away.
But she didn’t want to walk away. If she had a chance, even a slight chance, she wanted to take it.
To her, he was worth it.
Slowly, she nodded, “Okay.”
And “okay” was all she said before getting up and giving him his space.
***
She enters the living room just as he puts the phone down, sees his face and knows.
He is going to leave.
Hilde steels herself for it, but still isn’t ready.
“Hey,” he says with a forced smile, “So, I just talked to Wufei.”
“You’re going to Heero,” she concludes for him, but his face twists.
“No, he-,” Duo frowns, “I told you, it's not about…Never mind. Anyway, I think I might pal around there for a while. I’ll probably be making good money, so I’ll send it back this way for the house-”
“You’re joining the Preventers?” She asks, deducing the call, and feels that flare of anger again, “Are you kidding me?”
He crosses his arms. His jaw sets.
‘Oh, God, he’s already made his decision,’ she thinks, dejectedly.
“I’m not joining,” he explains, “I’m just going there to hear them out…They call me, ever so often. And I always said no. But now I just want to see what it’s all about.”
“I thought you were over with all that. With the nightmares. With the-”
“Hilde,” he cuts sharper than he wanted to and she visibly flinches, “I just want to see-”
“Fine, Duo,” she interrupts him stiffly, “Fine. Whatever you need to do.”
“Hilde-” He starts, but she walks out of the room.
It’s been hard ever since he told her the truth. No more drinking beer on the back porch at sunset. No more notes in his lunch box. No more casual touches. No more sex.
Not even a kiss.
He felt like shit already, but the sudden absence of her touch hit him harder than he thought it would. He was always a tactile person. He gauges compatibility and friendship on the tangible side. He appreciates that Quatre is a hugger, a good hugger and misses that. Heero would stiffly accepting of his touches, never reciprocated, but never threw him off or pulled back like Wufei did. And Trowa is, just, well, aloof in general.
Without Hilde’s touch, he's drifted back into moments of self-doubt and loneliness. He knew he was a shit for wanting more, for missing it, but it was just human nature to want to be touched. And he couldn’t go home after that night and lie to her. He wouldn’t.
There was a shift in him and she needed to know that. And it really wasn’t just about Heero. He had meant everything he told her. He needs to explore now that he’s able to, that he can, because if he kept pushing that down…well, it’d be like Heero’s marriage. All lies and all drama. He didn’t want his life to be fake and phony. One thing he isn’t is phony.
He’s not sure why Heero left the Preventers. Maybe on a mission. Maybe had other plans. Whatever the case, it’s good luck. He doesn’t need it any more complicated. He’ll just go there and see what they’re doing. That’s all. Just pop in and take a look. Maybe they’d need someone well-versed in explosives, in stealth, in jury-rigging the impossible…
Maybe, just maybe, they’d need someone like him.