Author Junk: Life is good, but, as usual, boring. *pretends everyone cares* So I decided to come up with a little Duo *drool* centered ficcy. If you didn't already notice, Duo is my favorite GW boy! Enjoy!

Silver Cross

'Let the anger drain away,' I thought as I did those slow calming breathing things that Wufei had insisted I learn. After all, it wasn't anything to get all worked up over was it? Nope. So Heero had just inadvertently broken half of my life, my past, into seven small glittering pieces.

I definitely am not the one who'll usually get all messed up over some stupid little material possession, but when there were only two things that were constant in your life you tend to get a tad bit attached, and when one of them has just been snapped into pieces you have a right to lose your cool. My hair was still there. Thank god. I reached up and possessively grabbed the tail end of my braid, just to make sure. I guess I was in shock.

"I'm sorry, Duo," Heero said blankly, and then he walked out of the room.

I numbly scooped up the remains of a once beautiful delicate silver cross. All seven small bits. 'It was just a necklace,' I tried to say to myself. It became a mantra in my head. 'Just a necklace, just a necklace...,' is all that I could think as I stared down at the cross and tried to suppress my faded memories.

I couldn't help it. I thought back to the always smiling lady with curly long hair that had given my the cross in the midst of a crisis. I remembered the words that Sister Helen had said as she ripped the charm from her neck and thrust it into my small hands.

"Take this Duo," She had gasped, trapped beneath a charred pillar. The Maxwell church had just been bombed. Death was everywhere, and the awful smell and sights of burned bodies engraved itself into my memory then. Flames danced almost gracefully, and the smoking carcass of a fellow orphan lay at an odd angle not ten feet away, its hollow eyes frozen in emotionless horror. He or she had been burned and died by fire. I closed my eyes and shook my head savagely in denial.

"Duo. Wear this always to remember this place, remember these people," She coughed up sickly sweet blood and took a few ragged shallow breaths. "Life will be hard, unfair... Don't live in the past, but... keep the past close to your heart. That is one of my... greatest wishes for you. ...And stay... happy... keep you humor..."

If Sister Helen had anything more to say it was lost in a violent coughing spasm that drenched me in blood. In a few moments she died.

I'm sorry?! That's all he could say? Figured that the Perfect Soldier wouldn't have realized how important that cross was to me. Well, screw him.

I looked at the sliver of metal in my hand and a tear escaped my eye, unbidden it tracked down my cheek. Followed by another. And another.

I felt stupid sitting all alone in a room bawling my eyes out over a peace of jewelry, but I just couldn't seem to stop. I guess it was all those unshed tears that dated back from the death of the church. That had been the last day that I'd cried. Before then I'd always been able to control it with a grin or a smart remark. Now I didn't know how to stop crying. I was so overwhelmed with the loss of my past that the world could have stopped right then and I wouldn't have cared.

I woke to the sight of a figure outlined by sunlight from the room's window. 'Great' I thought ' I have a spectator' I was sort of aware of a pain in my hand. I blinked a few times to clear my head and the shadowy figure came into focus. It was Heero and he looked... worried? It was hard to tell, but I would have put my cash on worry right then.

After getting over the shock of Heero being worried I realized that one hand was clutching my braid as though it were a lifeline and my other hand was clutching something else. I also found out that my nose was runny and I guessed that I was probably all tear stained and icky looking. 'Just how I want to be viewed by Heero' Some sarcastic demon in the back of my mind murmured. I slowly unclenched my hand.

Heero's eyebrow quirked in concern and I almost melted. Then I realized what he was concerned about. I'd held the broken cross so tightly that it had burrowed into my flesh and dark red blood stained my palm and was pooled in the creases. The odd thing was that all seven of the pieces of cross were fit together like a puzzle. I jerked my hand and cross disassembled.

"Are you okay?" Heero asked in perfect monotone. I think it struck him then that the cross was something special to me, even if he didn't know the reason then.

"Hai," I answered shakily and summoned a weak smile. I followed Heero's piercing gaze straight to my hand. 'Great, Great, Great. Now Mr Perfect thinks I'm wacko.'

Heero averted his gaze and sat down at the edge of my bed. He gently took my cut hand into his and carefully picked out all the silver shards and set the metal on the bedside table. I tried not to wince as a tingling sensation seemed to run through his fingertips, up my arm, and down my spine. I noticed absently that Heero didn't look me in the eyes the whole time.

I didn't know why he was doing it. He silently wiped away the blood and washed away the tear stains. I didn't know what to say. I wanted to linger in this moment forever, to just linger in this feeling of being cared for for eternity, It came to an end all too soon.

He stood up and brushed my hair out of my eyes. 'Why?' I internally screamed, 'What do you care?'

Then he stepped back and, as if he'd read my mind, he said, "Because I understand how hard it is to not live in the past"

I was dumbfounded. He walked straight out of the room before I had the chance to regain composure,

It made sense though. I know that everyone has had bad things happen to them, and when you can't do anything about it then you have to let it go.

I dropped the remains of my cross into some river the next day. I was smiling through the tears.