Haunted Life
Part 5
by: Tigress Pern
Archive: GW Addiction (thanks Tyr!)
Warnings: Alternate Universe
Disclaimer: I don't own GW.
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Part Five

The room was silent as they entered. No one spoke as
Quatre once more set up the ouija board. Sitting on
the floor the four placed their hands on the
planchette.
"Are we ready?" Quatre asked. Three heads nodded.
"Will this work?" asked Meiran.
"It worked last time." Wufei told her. Meiran raised
one ebony eyebrow.
"You didn't tell me that."
"Some things are best kept secret." Trowa told her
with a wink. Meiran chuckled.
"I'll forgive you boys, this time."
"Hush." Quatre snapped. "We need to concentrate."
All talking ceased as Quatre called out to the
spiritual world. Trowa waited with anticipation. He
hadn't had any contact with Duo since Sunday night,
when he'd written Heero's grandfather's name on the
computer. Please let him be all right.
Meiran visibly shivered as a slight breeze blew
through the room.
"Spirit are you here?" Quatre inquired. The
planchette moved to YES. Trowa smiled. "Who are
you?" D-U-O it spelled out.
"We have the right spirit." Wufei told Meiran. She
nodded. Quatre gave him a dirty look. The Chinese
boy clamped his mouth shut. Quatre began asking
questions, which Duo gave answers to, as best he
could. When they noticed that his spelling was
beginning to deteriorate, Trowa told Quatre to sign
off, as he didn't want to exhaust the spirit's energy.
Quatre agreed. Just as he was about to move the
planchette to GOOD-BYE, it flew to the letter H. This
was followed by an I, an R, and an O.
"Hiro?" Meiran asked.
"Not Hiro," Trowa realized. "Heero. Heero is
coming!" They quickly signed off and just as they
were folding up the board and stuffing it into
Quatre's backpack, Heero Yuy opened the door. He eyed
the four still sitting on the floor.
"I've fixed the kitchen faucet." He announced, then
turned slowly to leave. Once the door was shut, Trowa
let out the breath he was holding.
"What's up with him?" Meiran asked. "He had such a
sour expression."
"That's Hiroshi Yuy's grandson. He knew Duo when he
was alive. The man didn't like Duo and has told Heero
that the he is a bad spirit and must be exorcised."
Trowa practically snarled. "I don't want him knowing
that we're communicating with Duo."
"Oh. Five's a crowd, ne?" she said.
"At least when the fifth is him." Trowa replied.

* * *

Laying in his bed, Trowa stared up at the ceiling.
He couldn't sleep. The séance had gone so well, Duo
had lasted an entire fifty-two minutes before he had
grown tired. Maybe he was getting stronger. Trowa
wondered when the last time someone had tried to talk
to Duo. It must have been years.
Turning over, he reminded himself that the important
question about Hiroshi Yuy hadn't been answered. When
Quatre had asked him, the spirit had hesitated a full
five minutes before spelling out he wouldn't say why
Hiroshi hated him. He did stress that he wasn't a bad
person. I don't lie; he'd spelt out. Trowa wanted to
believe him, but as long as the Hiroshi question
remained unanswered, he was having a hard time.
Closing his eyes, he tried to envision what Duo
looked like, but he couldn't. Had he been short?
Tall? He did now know that his eyes had been
blue-violet and his hair chestnut, Duo had spelt so
that afternoon. As he began to drift off to sleep,
Trowa envisioned a pair of blue-violet eyes watching
him. They stared at him for a moment then moved
toward his bookshelf. They scanned it looking for
something. Trowa's eyes snapped open.
"Get away from the bookshelf." He growled. In the
dark he could almost see a figure jerk in surprise,
yet he was the only person in the room.
"Gomenasai." A voice apologized. "I finished the
other book and wanted something new." Trowa's jaw
dropped. "It's been so long since I've had anything
to read." He'd heard that voice only once, but once
was enough to commit it to memory. Duo was speaking.
Trowa prayed he wasn't dreaming.
"Duo?" Trowa tried to keep the excited waiver out of
his voice. There was a pause.
"You can understand me?" The words were said in an
unsure tone.
"Yes." Trowa thought he heard a happy squeak.
"I can't believe you can understand me!" Duo
exclaimed. Trowa felt a breeze twirl about in an
excited fervor.
"Does this mean you have more energy?" he asked
cautiously.
"Must be." Duo replied. "I haven't had anyone hear
anything more than a word or two since I first died.
I had a lot of energy then, but over time it has
faded. I've always been able to speak; it's just hard
to get the words out. This is great!"
"Keep your voice down. I don't want to wake
Catherine or Heero." There was a long moment of
silence. "Duo?"
"Yeah?" Trowa knew what he needed to ask. A
question that had been hounding him since he first
encountered the ghostly presence.
"Why don't you move on?"
"I can't. I have unfinished business."
"With Hiroshi Yuy?" There was a pause.
"Yes and other things."
"He's dead." Trowa told him. Silence once more
filled the room. The breeze that had been blowing
about stilled. Trowa hoped he hadn't scared Duo away.
"I think I knew that." Duo said slowly, his voice was
barely above a whisper. "Somehow he moved on and I
didn't."
"But you died long before he did."
"I know. I can tell time changes by the clothes and
attitudes of the new owners. How long has it been?"
Trowa detected a slight waiver in the spirit's voice.

"You've been dead fifty years." Trowa said.
"Fifty years." Duo repeated. Trowa shivered and
pulled the blankets up around him more. "You must be
cold. I'll just leave. My energy is weakening
anyway." Trowa was about to protest, but understood.
He didn't want Duo to vanish like he had the first
time they'd spoken. He heard a snort. "It's funny,
I've been dead so long, I don't even remember what
cold feels like."
"Duo…" Trowa whispered, but the spirit was gone.

* * *

The next couple days flew by. Trowa could hardly
keep his attention on what his teachers were trying to
convey to him. He was just too excited about the fact
that he'd spoken and held an actual conversation with
a ghost. Duo had turned become, in Trowa's mind, his
secret friend. Someone who understood loss. A boy
who was his own age, plus fifty years, and knew what
loneliness was. He wasn't like Quatre and Wufei, who
still had their parents and family. All Trowa had was
Catherine and she was gone for most of the day. Heero
didn't talk much and Trowa was weary about him anyway.
This left the ghost as his only comrade in the house.
He hoped that Duo considered him a friend as well.
On Friday he came home as usual to find Heero sitting
on the front steps. Curious, Trowa approached him.
"Is there something wrong?"
"I forgot my keys this morning." Heero said. Trowa
dug into his coat pocket and pulled out his house
keys. Opening the door, he motioned Heero in. Once
inside, Heero headed for his room. Trowa watched him
head down a set of stairs into what had once been a
huge cellar, but had been converted into a bedroom and
a laundry room. One of the other more recent owners
had also tried to make the house into a Bed and
Breakfast, but had been scared off by Duo. More
likely like they were scared of his presence, Trowa
thought. As he wandered to his own bedroom, Trowa
wondered what would happen if Heero ever ran into Duo.
Not that anyone could see him, but if he continued to
grow stronger, perhaps he could eventually show his
form to people. For some reason, that thought filled
Trowa's body with a warmth that he couldn't
comprehend. To see Duo's actual human form, not just
a ball of light would truly be something special.
Suddenly Trowa's mind froze. Oh God. I'm doing it
again. I'm thinking of men in that way. It nearly
cost me my friendship with Quatre; I won't do
something like that again. Get those thoughts out of
your head Trowa. Besides, he's dead. You can't get
any action out of a corpse. Trowa couldn't believe
his mind had jumped the gap between G-rated and
X-rated. Quatre was the only one who knew Trowa's
little secret. Catherine suspected, he knew, but
Trowa was reluctant to say anything. It was deeply
personal and he didn't feel right talking about it.
Yet another reason he felt alone.
Sitting on his bed, Trowa glanced over at his
bookshelf. On the top sat his old stuffed lion that
his mother had bought him before he was born. It was
his most treasured possession. It was a faithful old
friend that had seen him through the best and worst of
times. He got up and retrieved the lion. Holding it
in his hands, he messaged his fingers into its fur.
Despite the years of use, it was still in decent
condition. Only a few stains garnished its tan hide.
The fur was still soft to the touch except in a few
spots that had worn thin. Too much cuddling, petting
and loving, Trowa thought. It has given me comfort
when there was no one around, yet it can't replace
human contact. It's simply a reminder of love.
Mother and Father's love.
He could feel his throat tighten as he thought of
them. His caring parents. His wonderful, caring,
accepting parents who were dead. Death, it was so
final. There was no room for negotiations that was
it. He wondered if his parents ever thought of him or
Catherine from where ever they were. Maybe he could
contact them like he did Duo. No, they probably
couldn't be reached because they had moved on. There
was nothing to hold them like Duo was held. Except
their children. But their children were doing well
and were going to make their dream come true. Trowa
replaced the lion and smiled. He changed clothes and
headed off to find Heero. They had work to do if they
were going to get the place fixed up by spring.

* * *

"God, this room is a mess." Heero growled as he and
Trowa stood in one of the bedrooms on the second
floor.
"I'd say it was hardly used." Trowa replied dropping
the vacuum cleaner on carpet. Most of the house had
hard wood floors, but several of the bedrooms and the
living room didn't. At least this meant that they
wouldn't have to replace too much carpeting. Hard
wood floors were easier to keep clean anyway.
Heero walked the length of the room while Trowa
searched for an electrical outlet. He made note of
every inch and determined that the ghost was no where
about. He nearly sighed with regret. Confronting the
ghost was the first step in ridding the house of it.
Heero tried not to think of the spirit as anything
other than an "it". It no longer deserved the title
of "he". His grandfather had said so. In a sudden
wave of grief, Heero remembered the last words his
grandfather had spoken to him about Duo's ghost.
Don't let him near you. He will bend you to his will
if you aren't strong enough. I believe in you Heero,
you will put an end to what I started. You are my
grandson.
"Heero? Heero?" Trowa's voice broke through the
memory. Heero turned around. Trowa was staring at
him with cool green eyes. "Do you want to start
washing the walls or would you rather start vacuuming
the floor?"
Scrub brush the two boys tackled the walls, which
hadn't been cleaned in years. They worked in silence
until finally Trowa grew tired of it.
"Would you like to listen to some music? I can turn
on the radio in the kitchen."
"I suppose." Heero shrugged. Trowa took that as a
good sign and slipped downstairs. He turned on the
radio, set it to his favorite station, then slipped
back upstairs. The DJ was blabbering on about
traffic, but it was at least noise. Upon reentering
the room, Trowa picked up the scrub brush and began
working again. They continued on without a word to
one another.
"How did you end up in Juvie?" Trowa asked suddenly.
The question took Heero by surprise and he nearly
dropped his brush.
"Nani?"
"I asked you how you ended up in Juvie?" Trowa
repeated. Heero stared at him dumbfounded. It took
him a moment to process the question and to decide
what to say. No one ever asked him how or why. They
just judged him and went on with life. Trowa wanted
to know though.
"It's a long story and I really don't want to talk
about it." Heero said at last.
"Sally said it was shoplifting." Heero grunted.
That woman could be so damn nosey, but she was still
likable.
"Yeah. It was my first time. A couple of tough guys
that I'd been hanging out with me thought it was time
I joined their little club. They had all done it. I
was stupid. I got caught. The judge threw the book
at me and the rest you know." Trowa stared at him for
a long time. Heero waited for the judgement to come.
It always did, whether they new he was a delinquent or
not. Everyone judged him.
"Are you going to do it again?" Trowa asked.
"I seriously doubt it. It's not all what the movies
or people make it out to be. It's stupid." Heero
replied truthfully. Trowa nodded in agreement. They
went back to work. Heero was just beginning to hum
along with a song that was playing when he heard the
radio station jump. He frowned and was about to get
up when Trowa yelled.
"Turn it back!" The station returned to its original
place. "Thank you!" Turning to stare directly at
Trowa, Heero noticed that the sudden change of
stations hadn't bothered him. It didn't make sense.
Shouldn't he be terrified that there was a ghost in
the house? Shouldn't he want to get rid of it?
Didn't he think it was better for everyone's safety if
Duo Maxwell's ghost was exorcised? Heero didn't
understand at all.

* * *

Sitting at his desk in his history class, Trowa
looked over his notes. The teacher had promised a pop
quiz today and he didn't want to be caught off guard.
He was so intent on his studies that he didn't notice
Quatre until the blond dropped something on his notes.
Startled he looked up into blue-green eyes that were
shimmering with excitement.
"Trowa, guess what my grandmother dropped off last
night?" Trowa glanced down at the thick book in front
of him.
"Is that her yearbook?" Quatre nodded. He pulled a
desk over and sat on it. "Is there a picture of him
in it?" Again Quatre nodded. He smiled broadly.
"Well, are you going to tell what page or do I have to
flip through the entire thing?"
"Page 14. It's hard to believe this kid lived in the
forties. Wait till you see his picture. You'll see
what I mean." Trowa was rapidly flipping to page 14.
"My grandmother said he was a nice enough guy, from
what she could recall. Always seemed to be smiling,
would laugh at a good joke and wasn't afraid to be
sensitive. He was popular with the girls, I was told.
He probably had them lined up at the door, ne?
Trowa? Trowa? Yoo-hoo." Quatre waved his hand in
front of Trowa's eyes. "Earth to Trowa."
Trowa's mouth had gone dry. So this is what Duo
Maxwell looked like. This is the person Hiroshi Yuy
hated, but seemed so nice to Trowa. His palms were
sweating badly.
"Trowa, breathe." Quatre hissed. Trowa let out the
breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"God, Quatre." Trowa's voice sounded hoarse. Quatre
wondered what was wrong. He looked down at the black
and white picture of a sixteen year old boy with large
eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a wide smile that gave
him a warm friendly look. The most unusual thing
about the picture was the fact that his hair was
immensely long and confined to a braid, which hung
over his shoulder. Now a day, Quatre wouldn't have
thought twice about the hair, but in 1950, it must
have been a daring statement. He'd probably been
growing it for years, Quatre thought. "He was
gorgeous." Trowa whispered.

On to Part 6

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