"Brothers"

Written By: ExecutiveShrimp

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, it belongs to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. Written for pleasure not profit.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: AU, Get together fic, sap, angst, fluff, citrus

Pairings: 2x1

Summary: After the death of his mother, Duo is forced to live with his estranged father. The new family seems perfect at first, but the truth is entirely different and will be revealed as Duo starts to get feelings for his "brother".

 

"Brothers "

Chapter Twelve

Heero was dressed in the clothes I had picked out for him during the weekend of the wedding. He let his parents practically bully him into wearing them, even though him and I both knew it would earn him unwanted attention at school. I hadn't seen him since breakfast, we hadn't shared any classes that day. Sitting across from him at the dinner table I couldn't help but wonder if anyone at school had looked at him funny, the way I was doing. I couldn't stop staring. The crisp white of the button-front shirt contrasted so nicely with his golden skin. The rolled-up sleeves showed off his thin wrists and toned forearms. The undone buttons at the top expose the hollow of his collar-bone, which I never realized could be sexy, but it was.

I felt horrible for staring at him like that. I couldn't stomach any of the food Tabytha had spent hours preparing, the smell alone made me nauseous.

I was having a lot of disturbing dreams lately. Dreams about Heero, about Cameron and about myself. I was spending a lot of time with Heero during the days, but it was starting to make me uncomfortable because I was becoming aware of certain feelings and attractions that I should clearly condemn. He is, technically, my brother, after all, but most importantly he was the victim of sexual abuse, at the hand of my father! Still, it was impossible not to acknowledge how beautiful he was. His blue eyes were enthralling; his tousled hair was unintentionally sensual; his upper lip had the perfect cupid's bow; his nose was simply pretty, for lack of better words.

Swallowing the lump in my throat I forced my gaze down at my plate. I was pushing food around absentmindedly with the silver fork. The worst thing was that I didn't even like Heero. I couldn't like him, I didn't even understand him. And yet I was having these thoughts and dreams about him. If I had fallen in love with the boy I could imagine feeling less sick about myself, but I wasn't in love with him, it was teenage lust and it frightened me. It frightened me because I had no confidence that I could control it. I feared my desires could possibly cause me to do something that Heero didn't deserve, after all, my father hadn't been able to contain his urges and I was of the same flesh and blood.

I looked up and suddenly became aware of someone staring at me. Glancing to my left I noticed Cameron's gaze, fixed on me. Initially I looked away, startled by the unexpected eye-contact, but when I looked at him again to pretend I wasn't bothered by him a cold shiver ran down my spine when a smug smirk formed on his lips and he raised one eyebrow at me slightly. With a focused frown I aimed my gaze back at my food and waited to be excused.

After dinner I joined Heero in his room. I was struggling to read a book for my English class, the report was due in three days and I was only on the first chapter. Heero only snorted at me when I asked him to google the cliffnotes for me. He had his back turned towards me, his laptop held his undivided attention. I maneuvered myself to lay on my stomach on the floor. The book was spread open in front of me, but I could do little more than carelessly leaf through the pages. I stiffened when Heero swiveled around in his chair and glared at me.

"You're not even reading," He accused.

"What the fuck? I totally am!"

"You're turning the pages far too quickly to actually be able to read anything. I can hear you."

I pressed my nose into the book. "Mind your own business..." I grumbled.

"You are the one who keeps insisting that we spend time together. If we are cooped up in this room all evening, every day, than your business is my business."

I sat up. "Well, than that works both ways!" At his challenging expression I elaborated: "If my business is your business, than logic dictates that your business is mine as well. Tell me about what Cameron does! Or did! Or will do!"

He shook his head and that was it, he turned around again, facing his laptop.

"Fine," I snarled. "But don't meddle in my business either." I folded my arms in front of my chest and continued to glare daggers at the back of his head. Then I started again: "Deep down you know what he has done to you is wrong. You say you are completely okay with it, but if that was the case, you would just tell me. The only reason you're not throwing it in my face is because you're ashamed!"

"I thought we had just agreed to stop meddling."

"You know me," I exclaimed, exasperated, "petty little Duo Maxwell, can't ever make up his mind."

He threw a look over his shoulder. "Why do you even want to know? What does it matter to you? You said yourself that you will be gone the day you turn eighteen. That's not enough for him to do anything, he is not going to force anything, that is too big of a risk. Your safe, so stop worrying."

He was lying to me. "I have every reason to be worried!"

"I can take care of myself."

"This isn't about you!" Was my selfish retort. "He is my father! My father!" I emphasized.

"What are you saying?"

"I have the right to know what kind of footsteps I am stepping into."

He frowned deeply.

"Look, in terms of the whole nature versus nurture debate, I'm pretty convinced nurture has the upper-hand, but that doesn't change the fact that I have Cameron's DNA. What does that say about me?"

"I don't know. Do you fantasize about having sex with little kids?" He inquired dryly.

Disgusted I was hasty to reply: "No! God, no!"

"So you are not like him," He analyzed.

I shook my head at him and averted my gaze, focusing my angry glare on the carpet. "Everything is so black and white to you. I can still end up a pervert, but in a different way."

He turned around, as if the conversation suddenly intrigued him. "In what way?"

I blinked up at him. In the I-have-wet-dreams-about-the-boy-who-is-technically-my-brother way, I thought shamefully. "Nothing. Never mind."

He rolled his eyes. "Read your book."

That's how it was between us, but I supposed it was better than the way we had started out. At least he no longer finished every sentence by calling me an idiot or some variation thereof.

Christmas was rolling near and I was dreading it as much as one might suspect. The first Christmas without my mother. We would have Christmas-dinner at a roadside diner and exchange presents - which we bought at the previous gas station - during our traditional caramel sundae dessert. An outsider would say that our Christmas celebration wasn't very festive nor special, but to us it was and I would always be grateful to unwrap my present; some kind of flavored gum or an energy drink. And my mom would smile like I had just given her diamond earrings when she unpacked a new car-freshener or a bag of fancy potato chips. Just last year it was a bag of baked potato chips with garlic, thyme and parmesan and she had been more than happy to share when we hit the road again.

Tabytha had planned an elaborate sit-down dinner for the expected guests. Cameron's sister and her newest husband, and his adult children, and a business associate from Cameron's company would join us for a six course, extravagant, traditional meal. Bits and pieces of the dinner we would be served in the weeks leading up to Christmas Eve, as Tabytha wanted to test out each dish on us. My joke 'So I guess if we die of food-poisoning it won't be considered a success' was not well-received.

We had one week of school left and then our Christmas vacation would start; two full weeks in the house of horrors. I never expected there would ever come a day when I would wish I could go to school. The only silver lining was that Cameron wouldn't be taking too much time off. Hopefully, with some perfectly timed excursions, Heero and I could avoid him for most of it. I had already made plans for us to go to the mall, the ice-skating rink and the local zoo. Of course Cameron had yet to condone these plans, but I knew I had to wait for the right moment to ask him, so as to increase our odds of getting his permission.

Tabytha was downstairs finalizing her plans for the Christmas dessert and Heero was up in my room for once. Of course he made himself at home and ignored me for most of the time, like he always did, but at least we had reached a point where if I asked him a direct question, he would grace me with a response. The fact that it wasn't always strictly speaking an actual word I had grown to accept. Besides, whether or not he realized it, Heero gave away plenty with his grunts and snorts; it was like his own language and I prided myself on slowly but surely becoming fluent. However, I still preferred full-sentences or even monosyllabic answers.

"Why isn't grandfather Maxwell coming to this Christmas dinner?" I asked out of the blue.

"Why? Do you want him to come?"

I pursed my lips. That was one thing that Heero still did that really bugged me: answering a question with another question. "No. I'm just wondering why he would miss out on spending Christmas with his family. Especially after also missing his daughter's wedding."

"Cameron and his father aren't really on speaking terms."

I straightened up at that tidbit of information. "What do you mean?"

"When someone says two people aren't on speaking terms, it means they aren't talking to each other anymore," He deadpanned.

"Thank you for not being completely condescending," I retorted sarcastically. "Why aren't they talking?"

"His father doesn't approve of him."

I got up and leaned back against the desk where Heero was seated. "Approve of what, exactly?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Are you telling me he knows?"

"Knows what?"

"Don't be coy, you know damn well. Does he knows about Cameron's... sickness?" I shuddered.

"I assume he does. He helped bail him out of trouble a couple of times."

"What kind of trouble? You mean those two kids from when me and my mom were still living with him?" I recalled some details from my phone call with Ruby.

"I don't know." He shrugs. "He jumps in whenever Cameron can't make it go away himself."

"Why would he help him if he doesn't approve?"

"To protect the family name."

"Motherfuck. These goddamn rich people..." I brought my hand up to my mouth and started picking at my cuticles with my teeth. "There has to be something we can do?"

"We?" He questioned with a quirked eyebrow. "I won't be participating in anything you think up. I'm perfectly fine sitting out my time here."

"Perfectly fine..."

"Yes."

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it," He replied matter-of-factly and turned his attention back to his textbook.

"But I have to stand it?"

"Yes."

"That fucking sucks," I grumbled. Why couldn't Heero just cooperate? Surely if he would dare to speak up and tell the truth people would have to take us seriously and Cameron couldn't keep sweeping it under the carpet? Heero insisted on abiding his time, waiting to finish high school and get sent to some Ivy League college. He truly believed he would be scot-free once that happens, but I was less optimistic. Cameron would always keep him on a short leash, he would always be there, breathing down his neck and Heero would have to live with what Cameron had done to him - and had let him do to him. That was not a happy ending.

The bell rang on Friday indicating the end of the last class and students grabbed their belongings and sprinted out the doors enthusiastically. I was dragging my feet, in no hurry to get back to the house. I waited for Heero by the bike stands and when he emerged from the building we didn't even exchange a single word and just started walking home. The neighborhood was lavishly decorated, each neighbor trying to outdo the other with lights, inflatables and even music. Everyone was so happy this time of year, but I had a difficult time embracing the Christmas spirit. The days were joyless as I missed my mom more than ever.

After dinner we went up to Heero's room above the garage. I preferred spending time in his room, it was completely private and we could hear Cameron coming from a mile away; the creaking of the winding staircase coming up from the garage was unforgiving. In my room I always feared Cameron could be right on the other side of the wall, pressing his ear against the patterned wallpaper to eavesdrop on us. Not that he would hear much of interest, but the idea alone was nauseating.

"Are you looking forward to Christmas Eve?" I asked my brother.

His grip on his pencil tightened. "Of course not. I don't like people."

I chuckled at his statement. "Yeah. I don't like these people either." I sighed. "I miss my mom, you know?"

"No, I don't know. I don't know what it is like to miss someone."

"Really? You didn't miss your mom when you were put up for adoption?" It was a harsh question, but I was too curious to refrain myself from asking.

"As I said, I don't like people."

"Not even your own mother?"

He turned around in his seat, his eyes were cold. "My mother was a crack-whore, do I need to paint you a picture? No, I didn't even like her."

"Is she dead?" I continued on brazenly. He was being uncharacteristically honest and I had to make good use of that.

"Probably."

"You don't know?"

"I don't care."

I bit my lip in a moment of hesitation and then pressed on: "What about your brothers and sisters? You said you had lots of them."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't care?" He seethed.

"But you do care," I pointed out and got up from the floor. "You're getting upset right now, so clearly you do care."

"I'm not getting upset, I'm getting annoyed, because you are forcing me to talk about something that I don't give a rat's ass about. I'm getting bored, really."

I studied his flushed face. "Yeah, you look bored," I observed sarcastically.

He got up from his seat, focusing his glare on me. If he had held on any longer I didn't think I would have been able to stand his vicious stare, but then he pivoted on his heels and started towards the bathroom.

"What are you doing?"

"I just have to do something. Leave me alone."

Of course I didn't heed his request. I followed him into the bathroom before he could lock the door and shut me out. He paced back and forth in the small space a number of times, frustrated with my presence, but then he undid his jeans and I watched with big, shocked eyes. He grabbed a little black toilet bag and sat down onto the tiled floor with it, leaning his back against the side of the tub. I was reminded of the scene I had encountered in the hotel and I knew what he was going to do. I tried to snatch the bag away from him, but he held onto it tightly and his expression frightened me into inaction.

"Don't do this," I pleaded.

Keeping a threatening gaze fixed on me he zipped the bag open and produced a razorblade. He tossed the bag aside and raised his hips off the floor to push his jeans down to his knees, exposing his thighs and the myriad of old cuts that scarred them.

I didn't want to watch but I was too scared to leave him alone. I crouched down and looked on as he purposefully brought the blade down to his skin and pressed into it. It didn't take much force for the razor to cut into him and with slight delay blood started running out of the puncture wound. He waited a little while before dragging the razor up, creating over an inch long, bright-red cut. I felt my lower lip start to tremble and my eyes well up. Heero's face scrunched up in pain only momentarily before he fully relaxed, he slumped against the tub and his expression became one of peace and relief.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered pathetically. "I shouldn't have kept asking you things about your family. I didn't want to upset you like this-"

"Stop talking," He ordered coldly. He looked down at the bleeding cut and after some brief contemplation he created a twin incision a few inches higher up the same thigh. This time his face betrayed no pain, only determination.

"Please don't do that. You're hurting yourself." I felt embarrassed at the tears running down my face.

"Quite the opposite," He replied breathlessly. "I feel better now."

I covered my mouth with my hand, deeply upset and disturbed by what I was witness to. I tried to stifle my sobs and suppress the urge to vomit.

"Would you like to try it?" He pushed the toilet bag across the bathroom floor, presumably there were new, clean razorblades inside.

I could only shake my head.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

I can't keep doing this, I thought to myself. I couldn't stand it and I wouldn't. I had to find a way to get us both out of here, before he would accidentally end up killing himself trying to escape from a pain that he won't even acknowledge.

We sat on the bathroom floor for about half an hour, during which time Heero made a third cut, that time opening an old scar. When he was satisfied he asked me to hand him the tissue box that was by the sink and I reached up, grabbed it and held it out to him mindlessly. He used several tissues to clean up the blood from his legs and the floor and then he got a box of band aids from the toilet bag. The fresh cut - the opened scar - was still bleeding, so he got some gauze, folded it over twice and held it against the wound and stuck it in place with a larger band aid. His actions were so routinely.

"Why do you cut yourself on your thighs?" I wondered dumbly, observing the entire scene with dead eyes.

"So people won't see the scars. They might ask questions if they do."

"But... doesn't Cameron see them?" I swallowed audibly.

His eyebrow twitched. "He doesn't care." With his hand finding purchase on the porcelain edge of the bathtub he raised himself up from the floor and he pulled his jeans back up. "I'm tired," He announced, "I want to sleep now."

I nodded. My mouth was too dry to be able to speak. I left his room, closing the door behind me quietly and headed downstairs into the garage. I took a moment to regain my composure. I could hear Tabytha moving around in the kitchen and I couldn't handle her noticing anything about me and asking questions, because I would surely burst into tears.

She barely even looked at me as I passed through the kitchen and hurried upstairs to my room. I realized how badly my hands were shaking and tucked them under my arms when I dropped down onto my bed and curled into myself.

A few days later the day before Christmas arrived and we were all seated at the breakfast table quietly chewing on our large serving of pancakes liberally drizzled with syrup. I took a big swig from my glass of fresh orange juice and eyed the people around me. Heero and Cameron were lost in their newspapers. Tabytha was talking about the outfit she would be wearing that evening. I noticed she kept looking at me and realized she had given up on talking to her husband and adoptive son, given that they don't pay her any attention regardless of her efforts, so she had taken to singling me out and talking to me.

"Speaking of clothes," She interrupted herself gleefully, "I have a little surprise for all of my boys." Without explanation she got up from her seat and disappeared upstairs for a minute or two. Heero nor Cameron had noticed her absence. She returned and proudly placed boxes with pretty bows in front of us, one each.

I stared down at the grey box with brand name and black and silver ribbon.

She scraped her throat which must have been some kind of trigger for the other two, because at the sound they finally folded up their newspapers and they appeared surprised at the gifts that had materialized before them.

"I was out shopping yesterday. Remember I told you I needed new pantyhose, Duo?"

I made a face. No.

"Anyway, you know me, when I go shopping magic happens!" She practically squealed. "I found this amazing dress, right off the runway and I thought to myself: this would be perfect for our elegant Christmas soiree."

Oh yeah, she had started calling it a 'Christmas soiree' a couple of days ago. It was obnoxious.

"But I can hardly dress up in something new and chic knowing the three of you are just going to pull something old out of the closet, so I got you a little something. Now, Cameron only got something small because I already knew I wanted him to wear the same suit we bought for you for your sister's wedding, but the two of you," She gestured at Heero and myself, "really needed a little more help. Go ahead, open it," She encouraged.

I pulled the bow apart and popped off the lid of the box unceremoniously. Inside the box were grey slacks of high quality and a silk shirt in a shade of purple. I tried to hide my dismay, I could already imagine myself looking like a total asshole. The fact that she clearly purposefully steered away from black showcased that she didn't really know me and didn't really care to know me. But of course I would have no choice but to wear the outfit she had purchased for me and there would be little sense in objecting. I looked up and say Heero unwrap his present with an equal lack of enthusiasm. For him she had picked out black slacks and a dark blue button-up shirt. Cameron's gift was an expensive silk tie in a faded shade of blue.

Cameron got up from his seat, walked around the table and kissed his wife on the cheek to show his gratitude. He looked at his sons expectantly and we both muttered our 'Thank you's'.

I stared at the clothes. Even though it clearly was the most expensive gift I had ever gotten I was acutely aware that I would have preferred a packet of flavored chewing gum.

My father headed for his office and Heero went up to his room, begrudgingly taking his clothes with him. I stayed behind and helped Tabytha clear the table, I had nothing else to do anyway.

"Do you like the clothes?" She asked. From her tone it was clear she was expecting a definitive affirmation.

So I obliged her: "Yes. It looks like it is very good quality." I chose my words carefully.

"Oh, it is the best!" She touched the fine silk of the purple shirt. "My boys deserve to be spoiled once in a while. Although... you might never want to wear those cheap cotton shirts ever again," With a laugh she nodded at my current outfit.

I looked down at my black shirt with the faded print of a rock band's logo on the front, underneath a black and grey lumberjack button-up. I was pretty sure my sense of style - or lack thereof - would be unaffected by her gift. What kind of sleazy douchebag wears a purple, silk shirt anyway? It reminded me of cheesy gangsters in old-timey movies.

"So uh," I started as I loaded the dishwasher and Tabytha looked over tonight's menu for the umpteenth time, "Who is this guy from Cameron's work?"

"Oh, I don't know." She waved her hand dismissively, not looking up from the laminated page. "Just some employee."

"Doesn't it bug you that Cameron invites a random employee to your family Christmas," I paused, "soiree?"

"Honey, the more the merrier!"

I took her comment to mean she loved showing off her lavish lifestyle to as many people as possible.

"Cameron invites a different company employee each year," She continued. "He is very invested in the company and he wants it to be clear that he is involved in every sector, at every level, so he invites a worker from a different team each year to get to know them better and to show that he is an amicable employer."

"Right. So sometimes entire families come over, I guess?"

"No, no, no. He only invites the men who are still single. He can't expect an employee to drag his entire family along and he certainly can't expect them to miss out on spending the holidays with their families."

I nodded. I still thought it was weird, though. It didn't sound like him at all. Cameron wasn't the kind of guy who takes charge by befriending everybody, he was more the type of boss who simply assumes ultimate authority, no questions asked.

I got my laptop from my room and then joined Heero above the garage. I played a game while he quietly worked. Even though we weren't speaking, it was actually kind of nice. We were both seated at his desk, him in his desk chair, me on a wooden stool. The desk was fairly large but I had purposefully sat down close to him. Sometimes my gaze strayed from my computer screen - away from the explosions and the unnecessarily explicit gore - and I would watch his hands as he typed on his keyboard. I was one of those people who could only type with their index fingers. Heero used every digit efficiently, typing faster than my eyes could keep up with. I imaged he must have spent a lot of hours at his computer. He may refuse to admit it, but he was searching for an escape. The keys of laptop were already faded, some letters were no longer distinguishable, like the E, the A and the N, in spite of the fact that the laptop was less than two years old.

I looked up at his face, his expression one of absolute concentration. He was so pretty it was unreal. I understood why Cameron had to adopt him, choosing him over all the 'normal', American kids, as his sister had said. I scrunched up my nose and shook my head, I couldn't believe my own thoughts. I was imaging Cameron meeting Heero for the first time and all the sick urges he must have had the moment he laid eyes on the beautiful - eight year old! - boy. I didn't want to think about that, it was creepy. There was a hint of inappropriate, irrational jealousy in my thought-process as well. I couldn't help but think to myself that Cameron lucked out that my mom took me away from him, by adopting Heero he certainly managed to trade up. I liked to think that I would have put up a bigger fight, though, but there was no way I could know for certain. I couldn't predict what I would have been like if Cameron had had the chance to manipulate me from such a young, impressionable age onwards. Maybe I would have become just like Heero; accepting my fate, trading my body - and my dignity along with it - for greater, imagined purpose.

"Something wrong?"

I blinked and only then became aware of my brother looking at me. I dared to think there was a slight suggestion of concern in his questioning eyes and the way one eyebrow furrowed. "What?"

"Are you sick?"

I swallowed. That was kind of a loaded question, considering my recent struggles with my genetic heritage and how that would affect my own behavior. "What do you mean?"

"You looked pale all of a sudden."

"Oh. No. I'm fine."

"You're dead," Heero pointed out dryly.

"Excuse me?"

He nodded at my laptop screen and only then I bothered to look and I saw 'blood' had spattered against the 'camera lens', leaving the entire image blurred and bold text read that my character died in combat, giving me the option to start my mission anew or to abandon the cause. "Yeah... look at that... I am dead..." I grinned sheepishly. "I'm not really good at computer games, you know? With me and my mom being on the road all the time, I didn't have a computer, so I don't really..." I shrugged. "I play a mean game of Texas Hold 'em though!"

"I prefer Solitaire," He said and then bit his lip, as if he hadn't intended to reveal that.

"Yeah? Go figure," I snorted. "But if you like card games we could play sometime. I could teach you if you don't know any."

"I know plenty, but like I said, I prefer Solitaire!" He argued childishly.

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "You're lying! I bet you can't tell your Flush from your Straight."

"Hn." He looked back at his screen.

"Oh, we're going to play a game of cards sometime. I promise you that, my friend," I teased.

"We're not friends."

"No. We're brothers," I retorted smartly.

When it was time to get ready I headed back to my room for a leisure shower and to get dressed. I stared at my reflection in dismay. Purple really wasn't my color. She had got the sizes right, probably copied them from my own clothes, but that was the nicest thing I could say about it. I stuffed my hands deep into the pockets of the grey slacks, trying to get comfortable. I slumped my shoulders, as if terrible posture could make me look like myself again.

I was called downstairs. The guests would be arriving shortly. I stopped dead in my tracks in the hallway, looking at the gathered threesome in the kitchen. Tabytha was adjusting the collar of Heero's blue shirt in an uncharacteristically motherly manner and then proceeded to run her hands through his hair, a vain attempt to try to tame his messy hair. She was wearing a dark blue cocktail dress with details of black lace and delicate Swarovski appliqués. Cameron stood by, watching, smiling to himself, dressed in a blue suit, a white shirt and his new, blue tie. I looked down at my purple shirt and realized it was like a boldly printed banner declaring that I wasn't really part of the family. This shouldn't have insulted me, giving the sick family dynamic that I was aware of, but it did; it irked me that they wanted to draw the line between us like that, because I wasn't good enough to be on their side of the line. We were wearing football jerseys and I was the idiot who had bought a ticket in the wrong section of the stadium, and was dangerously out of place. I didn't even want to be part of their team, but strangely it hurt that Tabytha - the one I thought didn't have deeply rooted hatred and disdain for me - didn't want me to be part of them.

"Duo, you look great! Purple is a good color on you!" The tall, slim woman proclaimed.

Cameron nodded his agreement.

I exchanged a look with Heero and I suspected he noticed the same message in the color-scheme. He didn't look particularly empathetic.

First Cameron's sister and her new husband arrived. She completely ignored me as she made the rounds and Tabytha started pouring everyone their drinks of choice. When her husband - with some generic name I had already forgotten - showed some interest in me, genuine or not, she was quick to call him to her. I realized everyone would be doing their damnest to not make me feel included.

His children and their respective partners were next to arrive. Four unremarkable faces; four unremarkable people. They effortlessly blended into the bland conversation about nothing, the group splitting up according to gender. Heero and I stood by idly. I had my hands in my pockets, even as Tabytha kept making eyes at me, not-so-subtly trying to communicate that she didn't appreciate my lackluster stance.

The doorbell rang one more time and Cameron invited his employee into his home. The man was tall and sickly thin, I made a face shaking his bony hand and he introduced himself as 'Patrick Smart'. His behavior and his words were rehearsed and unanimated. I could empathize with him. He was as out of place as I was. He was still a creep though, with a shameless comb-over and dark circles under his sunken eyes. His teeth looked horrible and the smell coming from his mouth was as bad as I expected when I first saw him bare his teeth in a grin.

"Heero, this is Patrick," Cameron said as the boy and the ghoul shook hands, "Patrick is the head of our Chemical Engineering department."

Patrick nodded eagerly.

"Heero is very interested in science. When he grows up he is going to change the word, I'm sure of it."

"When he grows up," Patrick repeated.

I realized they were still shaking hands and I frowned. My focus was pulled away when Tabytha announced we should take our seats at the dinner table and prepare ourselves for the first course of the evening. In the dining room I noticed she had even bothered to put place cards on the table. My seat was next to Esther and across from her brother Mike - my cousins, I supposed. Heero was assigned his regular seat to Cameron's left and Patrick sat down next to him. Cameron and Tabytha were on opposite ends of the table, the images of the perfect hosts.

It was easy for me tune out. My body was politely seated at the dinner table, pretending to enjoy my meal and listen to the mundane back and forth, but my mind had disappeared into the dark recesses of myself. I wondered if Christmas would ever be joyful again, without my mother. I suspected not.

We were served the main course and I caught part of the conversation at the other side of the table.

"So, Heero, you want to be, like, a scientist?" Patrick asked.

Heero shrugged.

Cameron inserted himself and supplied: "Heero loves studying and inventing things." He suggested in a hushed tone: "Heero, you should show Patrick your work station after dinner."

Heero barely nodded.

Patrick and Cameron smiled at each other.

My stomach started to turn, but surely I was mistaken...?

Dinner continued innocently enough. I was stuffed long before the final course was served and I had only eaten a little off each plate. The guests were happily washing their meals down with bottle after bottle of expensive, aged wine and after dessert Heero and I were poured a glass as well. The adults laughed as the two of us felt forced enough to drink it that we both downed it in a single gulp and made faces at the taste.

"Just wait a couple of years, boys," Cameron bellowed, raising his glass in a toast, "You'll love it."

I offered to help Tabytha clear the table, being the only one to do so. Although she declined my offer and ushered everyone into the living room for stronger drinks, I stayed behind and helped her anyway. Any excuse to not be amidst that vain, superficial gathering of people was good enough. Unfortunately I couldn't escape them for the entire evening. The dishwasher did most of the work and Tabytha and I joined the rest. Every seat in the living room was taken, everyone sitting next to their significant other. I, however, was assigned to sit on the lonely ottoman in the corner. Heero was sitting next to Patrick. They were seated a little too closely together for my liking, but I was imagining things. Patrick paid little to no attention to the boy right beside him, instead engaged in conversation with 'my new uncle' - Cliff, Frank, Bill, or some other horribly uninspired name.

The indistinct murmur of the branched off conversations was interrupted by Cameron. Rolling his glass of whisky he said: "Tabytha, honey, if you would get the Christmas presents."

She clapped her hands excitedly and got up from her seat.

"Now, I know we said we wouldn't exchange any gifts, but it's Christmas!"

I rolled my eyes. They tricked their family and friends into thinking no gifts were required so they could end up looking abundantly generous and making the rest look like asses for not getting anyone anything.

"Duo, Heero," Cameron addressed us, "Although Tabytha already got you lovely presents, I got you something as well," He said even though we were the only ones who didn't get a package handed to us by Tabytha. "But it was too big to wrap. I took the liberty of putting your presents in your rooms."

My body went stiff and my face went red. I didn't like the idea of him inviting himself into my room, not at all.

"Go ahead boys," Tabytha encouraged, "Go see."

We both got up reluctantly and Heero left for the garage and I headed upstairs. I was apprehensive opening the door to my room. I didn't know what to expect, but I was thinking along the lines of the bloody, severed head of a racehorse at the foot of my bed.

Inside my room, arranged on the floor, I found an enormous flat screen television, still in the box, and a gaming console as well as a broad selection of video games. I stared at the elaborate present, fully aware that any other teenager would be overjoyed, but the message was as obvious as a horse's head. It was Cameron's chosen way of telling me I should really spend less time with Heero. He didn't like the fact that we spent most nights cooped up in his room, completely private. He thought a television and games would keep me more confined to my room, so he could have better access to Heero again, without my prying eyes. It wasn't going to work, I was not going to play into his hand.

I stayed upstairs for as long as I thought I could get away with. I figured I could explain away my absence pretending to be in awe of my Christmas gift. Instead I sat on the edge of my bed and watched the door, afraid he was going to burst through and lay it on extra thick that he wanted me to stay away from his prized son. Soon I had to go downstairs again, they were waiting for me to express my gratitude.

"I think he likes his present!" Tabytha asserted when I stepped into the living room after being gone for about half an hour.

"Yeah, it's great!" I was trying very hard to feign enthusiasm and was fairly optimistic that to the undiscerning eye my act was convincing.

"I appreciate how hard you've been working on your school projects, with Heero's help," Cameron said slyly, "But a boy like you should also enjoy his free time."

"It's great," I repeated, "I'm sure you'll have to beat me off with a stick." I swallowed at the dark flicker in my father's eyes.

"Honey, why won't you just go upstairs and play your games?" My step-mother suggested. "Grown-up talk wouldn't interest you anyway."

Grown-up talk? I suddenly realized Heero was not in the living room. And neither was Patrick. But the two of them weren't missed by the group. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'll go do that," I waved sheepishly and then backed away. Once I was out of sight I went to the kitchen, as opposed to my room. I stood in front of the door leading into the garage, feeling my heart beat high up in my throat. Please, no. Please, no. The mantra repeated itself in my head. I opened the door quietly. If my nauseating suspicions were correct, I at least wanted to catch them in the act.

I was prepared to climb the stairs to his room, hoping I would have more success sneaking up to the door than Cameron in the past, but I heard soft sounds to my right, so I looked around the opened door at Heero's workstation.

Patrick had the boy backed up against the workbench. He was grinding their hips together, moaning gratuitously and senselessly, his hands were on Heero ass. The Japanese boy held his arms against his chest and leaned his shoulders back as far as his spine allowed, preventing Patrick from descending his panting, wet mouth onto his, but other than that he was making no effort to fight him off.

When the utter shock of what I was witness to wore off enough for my heart to sink back into my chest and clear my throat, I slammed the door shut to make my presence known and yelled: "What the fuck!"

Patrick jumped away from Heero, reaching down to adjust himself with one hand, while he ran the other through his greasy hair. "Look, kid," He started, "It's okay."

My nostrils flared. I was fuming! With my balled fists trembling at my sides I approached him but Heero sped towards me and with a hand on my chest he stopped me from getting close to the despicable pervert.

"It's okay. It's okay," Patrick kept saying in a vain attempt to calm me down. "I arranged everything with Cameron-"

I pointed an angry finger at him. "Fuck that!"

"Duo, please," My step-brother hushed and it took a little more force on his part to keep me from charging at the gangly man.

I looked at Heero with wild eyes. There was panic in his eyes, but not for the right reasons. "I'm going to tell everyone! And you are going to back me up! Cameron can't control everyone and everything! Someone has to believe us!" I turned around and headed back for the door.

"Woah woah woah!" Patrick tried, but he was silenced by Heero, who came after me. He grabbed two handfuls of the back of my shirt, twisting his fingers into the fabric and he wasn't about to let go. "Duo, please! That won't accomplish anything!"

"Bullshit!" I struggled to free myself from his grip, but to no avail.

"Duo, don't do this!" He pleaded.

"I'm- uh... I'm gonna get out of here." Patrick walked around us in a big circle and slipped through the door like the weasel that he was.

"This is what you meant!" I hissed at Heero, turning around to face him.

He let go of me but came to stand between me and the door, ready to stop me should I try to go back inside the house.

"This is what you meant when you said you were too old for Cameron. He whores you out to-" I gestured at the door through which Patrick had left. "To-..." I groaned at my struggle to find words. "To guys whose taste you haven't outgrown!"

"Please don't make a big deal of this."

I scoffed. "This is a big deal!" I buried my hands in his hair. "This is what happens during the fishing trips? Isn't it? He lets other men fuck you!" I doubled over, it was difficult not to vomit. The images that assaulted me would haunt me forever.

"It's just sex, Duo! It's not a big deal!"

"It's rape!" I straightened up to look him in the eyes. "This is serious! You can't shrug this off." I shook my head at him. "I'm not going to let him do this to you anymore. It ends right now!" I reached out and grabbed his hand. "We are leaving." I started to pull him towards the outside door but he leaned his weight back and resisted.

"You're an idiot if you think we can ever escape this!" He screamed at me. "Let go of me! I don't want this!" Suddenly he didn't resist anymore. He lunged forward and punched me in the face.

I was startled enough for my grip to weaken and he tried to run upstairs so he could lock himself in his room, but I composed myself and chased after him. I caught him at the bottom of the winding staircase, pulling him back towards the door. Luckily the house was big enough that our fight in the garage couldn't be heard in the living room, which was at the opposite end of the house. We tumbled to the floor and he kept hitting me, not holding back. Instinctively, to get him to stop punching me in the ribs, I struck him across the face. As soon as the smack resounded we both stilled. I felt guilty right away, my heart clenching painfully as I watched the red handprint on his cheek start to appear. "Heero, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean-"

He pushed me off him and got up on his feet, backing into a corner like a wild animal.

"I'm so sorry." My voice cracked with emotion. "I didn't mean to hit you. I don't want to hurt you. Please..." I was literally on my knees, begging him for forgiveness. Given what he had suffered through all his life, I shouldn't have hit him. It was different for me, for me it was just a fight, but for him it was a continuation of life-long abuse. I didn't want him to fear or distrust me. I didn't want him to see me as a true son of Cameron. I didn't want to be like him.

"You're so stupid, Duo," He said darkly, looking down on me. "You think this hurts me?" He pointed at his cheek. "Nothing hurts me anymore. I can take it!"

I knew that wasn't true but I also knew I didn't stand a chance at convincing him of that bitter truth in the heated moment.

"I tried," He seethed. "You think I didn't try? In the past? Before I knew better? The only way to escape it, is to stand it, to let it run its course and then I'll be free and I'll be better off. I'm not going to let you ruin that."

I slowly got up from the floor.

"I'll tell you what happens if we try to run. He'll find us and I'll get punished. I won't get the things I want; the things I've worked for; the things I deserve! And you'll be dead. Same if you try to tell anyone."

A shiver ran down my spine at his matter-of-fact statement.

He straightened his clothes. "If you want to run, you can try. I don't think he'll try to find you at this point. But I'm staying here. I'll be doing us both a favor."

The door opened and Cameron barged in with an innocent façade. "What is taking you boys so long?"

I heard Tabytha rummaging in the kitchen, she was within earshot, explaining his mild-mannered attitude since clearly Patrick had found a way to give him a head's up without alarming the other guests.

He observed the scene, noticing the forming bruise around my eye and the redness of Heero's cheek. "What's going on here?" His smile never faltered.

"We had a fight, that's all. Brothers fight," Heero offered.

Tabytha overheard and came to stand in the doorway. "A fight?" She gasped at both our faces. "Boys!"

"Tabytha, it's fine," The tall man shushed her, "Heero is right. Brothers fight. People are waiting for their drinks, sweetheart."

She nodded meekly and then left.

"Although it is normal for two boys to get into some kind of altercation, I do not condone it. You will both spend the rest of the evening in your rooms," He ordered coldly.

Heero obediently went upstairs.

With my head ducked between my shoulders I squeezed by Cameron in the doorway. I could feel him looking down at me but I didn't dare to look him in the eyes. Now that he knew I had figured out his dirty little secret, I was all the more exposed and vulnerable. If Cameron really didn't have any qualms with killing me, like Heero said, he might do so, regardless if I cooperated or not.

Chapter 13

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