“So… this is Chez Maxwell, hmm?” Dorothy asked as she followed Duo into the tiny apartment.

“It’s what?”

“Your place.”

“I hope so, or we just walked into some stranger’s living room.” He managed a wan smile. “It’s mine… it just doesn’t feel like… a home.” The feeble attempt at a smile faded. “Not that I know what a home is supposed to feel like, since I never had one before.”

“You’ve never lived alone before?” She asked quietly.

“I’ve been alone a lot… it was just always on the streets or something. The closest thing to a home I ever knew was Maxwell Church.” They both winced at the mention of the church. “Well… and hanging with Howard and the rest of the Sweepers.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It was a long time ago, Dorothy. Stop apologizing…” He shrugged and moved farther into the living room. “Make yourself at home… but watch out for the couch…” He broke off, glancing over his shoulder in time to see her sit down on the couch and then squirm away from the lumps. “Oops.”

“I can see why you haven’t invited us to spend the night here…” She sighed. “And I thank you for that….”

“Um…yeah. I…figured that my place was a little too…. Small.”

Cool blue eyes studied him for a moment, and he had the sinking feeling she realized what he had been about to say instead.

“Duo… you do realize that you seem to have some misguided notion that we give a fuck about having been born rich?” He winced at the blunt words, and her eyes narrowed. “The fact that you lived on the streets does not bother either of us nearly as much as it seems to bother you.”

Maybe not… but it does bother me. Not for the first time, he wondered why he kept the apartment at all, when he never wanted to come home. ‘Cause I don’t want my new friends to think I’m a leech? Yeah, they’re letting me stay with them, but it’s only until I start sleeping more, right?

“Bah… men,” she sighed, throwing up her hands. “Just wait until you see my place. I think the couch I inherited from my grandmother might actually be more uncomfortable than this one. Antique and expensive does not automatically equate into more comfortable. Which is one reason why we’re staying with Zechs at the moment.”

Fortunately, she had her back turned to him and didn’t see the slow blush fading across his face as he thought of Zechs’ couch. God… why did I have to start losing my mind now?

He made a noncommittal noise as he retreated into the bedroom and started gathering spare uniforms and clothing into the two military duffels that had been stuffed onto the top shelf of his closet. Glancing around the room, he suddenly realized that there were almost no other personal belongings in it. Without consciously deciding it, he gathered up the few other items strewn around and stuffed them into one of the packs. Should I consider it sad or convenient that my entire life fits into two bags?

Glancing around the room a last time, he felt only numb at the realization that it was for the last time. He made a quick detour into the bathroom for his toiletries, though part of his brain pointed out that it would be nicer to keep using Zechs’. Yeah… just cause he buys the expensive shit.

Stepping out of the room, he flinched at the sight of Dorothy leafing slowly through the Book. She glanced up at him, looking sad again. He ducked his head and picked up the few things in the living room that meant anything to him. She didn’t comment as he stuffed them into the second duffel, just handed him the book as he hesitated by the coffee table.

“You aren’t coming back here.” It was more of a statement than a question.

He bit his lip, looking vaguely guilty. “I… um…”

“I understand,” She shrugged. “I feel the same way about my own place. I inherited it from my Grandfather, along with a lot of old baggage. It will be a little harder for me to leave it behind, though.”

“You think… Zechs will mind?”

She raised one eyebrow. “You might want to consider telling him before you just move in… I intend to… but I doubt he’s going to be surprised. Or upset.”

“Maybe….”

She smiled, still looking sad. “Come on…he’s going to be waiting dinner on us soon.”

***

Duo glanced around in awe as he stepped into the museum that Dorothy called a home. Every nook and cranny was filled with antiques, and he didn’t even have to touch them to know that they were all extremely valuable.

“You… live here?” He couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice.

“Only when I can’t avoid it.” She sighed. “Make yourself at home. I just want to grab a few things before we head back to Zechs’ place.”

He wandered around the massive sitting room as she vanished up the large curved staircase. Something on the top shelf of a large curio cabinet caught his eye, and with a half guilty look back at the empty staircase, he opened the door. Picking up one of the tiny ceramic horses, he rubbed one finger softly over the delicate paint of its mane… and nearly dropped it in shock at the images that ran through his head.

Sitting on the rug, in front of the large fireplace, where the pattern on the floor makes a perfect corral for the herd of ceramic horses… so pretty… running free … wish I was free to run….

“Dorothy! What do you think you are doing?” Dropping one of the horses in startled horror… guilt as the leg snapped…shoving it quickly beneath the couch as she turned to face the stern woman staring down at her. “How many times have I told you not to touch anything in this room? And now you’ve lost one! Do you know how old these are?” The horses were scooped up, and carefully placed on the highest shelf, far out of reach of the young girl standing guiltily behind her grandmother.

“Yes Grandmama…”

“These are not toys, young lady. Now go to your room…”

Coming back to himself with a start, he shoved the horse back onto the shelf and quickly closed the door. What the hell…? But he couldn’t help glancing at the rest of the room. Duo was never sure quite what impulse made him kneel next to the couch and look under it quickly. It was just my imagination…. But the reassuring words fell silent at the sight of the tiny horse with the broken leg. Oh God… I am losing my mind…

He scrambled to his feet, staring around the room in silent panic. The silence was now filled with a cacophony of shouts and arguments, scoldings…. He closed his eyes against the images flooding them. What is wrong with me… it’s happening again…? I thought it was just the suits that we had salvaged… that I would hear the screams of the men dying in them every time I touched them… but now it’s happening again…

“Duo…?” He whirled around, breathing hard as he stared at Dorothy. She was standing behind him with a small bag in her arms. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he smiled. “Nothing. Just estimating how much I could fence all this stuff for…”

“If you want it, it’s yours.” She scowled around the room. “I can’t stand most of it….”

“Well… ready to go?” He asked, trying to ignore the panic he’d felt a moment before. “Need me to carry anything?”

“I think I have it.” She said dryly. “Shall we get the hell out of the mausoleum? I’m starving.”

“Me too.” He couldn’t help throwing a last nervous glance over his shoulder as he followed her out of the room.

***

Zechs pulled the covers back and sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. Dinner had been a rather silent affair, with all of them lost in thoughts about the next day back at work. It felt more like weeks had passed than two days. He glanced around, to see Duo hesitating in the doorway.

“I… really don’t mind sleeping on the floor…” Duo muttered, continuing the one argument that they had had the previous night.

“And I really don’t mind you having half of the bed.” Zechs frowned. “What’s wrong, Duo?”

“Nothing.” Duo managed a grin. “Guess I’m not used to other guys asking me to sleep with them.”

“Does that bother you? That I’m a guy?” Zechs looked surprised. “You can share the bed with Dorothy, and I’ll take the couch if that will make you more comfortable with the idea.” Duo blinked, then blushed again. It was something that Zechs had noticed him doing a lot the last few days, and it still managed to surprise him each time.

“N-no… it’s not that….”

“Oh? What is it then?”

“Nothing. I’m just nervous about tomorrow, that’s all.” Duo shrugged and dived under the covers on his side of the bed. “Night…”

“Goodnight.” Shaking his head a little ruefully, Zechs turned out the light and crawled under the covers on his own side; and then blinked when he realized that there was still light in the room. Glancing around, he started and nearly fell out of the bed when he realized that the light was coming from Solo. The ghost was sitting cross-legged in the space between Duo and Zechs, facing Zechs and glaring. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he leaned up on one elbow.

‘What?’

Solo scowled at him, still refusing to speak.

‘Look, he’s my friend. I’m not going to lay a hand on him, so stop glaring at me.’

‘You touched him before.’

“What?” Zechs was startled enough that the ghost finally spoke to him, that he forgot to speak silently.

‘Last night…. You touched him.’

‘He was having a nightmare. And he was the one that crawled into my arms.’

Solo shrugged, and suddenly his appearance changed. He now looked slightly older than Duo, though the ragged, half-starved look had not changed. ‘You want to touch him.’

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Huh…? Zechs…?” Duo rolled over and looked at him.

“Go to sleep Duo… it’s ok.”

“Sure…” Sleepy blue eyes blinked at him. “Who’re you talking to…?”

“Just ghosts.”

“Oh…” Zechs smiled as the eyes closed again. “Wish my ghosts could talk to me…”

“So do I.” He winced at the raw pain and longing on Solo’s face, as the ghost shivered, then vanished. “God, kid, so do I.”