This was done in response to a challenge on the Gundam Wing FanFic List.

~*Song*~
*Thought*
"Speech"

Silent Night

Snow danced around the toes of his boots each time his foot came into contact with the ground. he knew that it did, because no matter how bright the decorative lights of the city were, and no matter how cheerful the carolers that strolled the streets... his gaze never left the soft blanket of white that tried to cover the pavement. Snow. Real snow, not the fabrication that would filter through the colony atmosphere for a few days a year. It made everything seem softer, and for a moment he could almost forget the events of the past year. Almost.

The crowds of people that should have been on the streets at this time of year were absent. The nighttime air was cool against his cheeks, and he found himself huddled into the warmth of the down jacket he wore. Shops were closing, the employees rushing to get home to their families. He heard the friendly banter as they called out to each other. Most of them were students, he guessed by their appearance. Too young to let the weather overshadow their joy... too old to fall under the curfew instated during the war. He half wondered if it would ever be revoked, when one girl's words caught him offguard. "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!" He looked up to where she was waving at her friend and an expression of confusion passed over his face. "You too!" The other yelled, hailing a cab, "See you next year!" He stopped in his wandering then, his mind pulling itself back from reverie and quickly narrowing down what it was that bothered him so greatly about the conversation he'd overheard. His heart sunk even further as he realized.

It was Christmas Eve.

A cloud of steam left his lips in a short huff as he fought back a snort. "Happy fucking holidays, indeed." He muttered, shoving his hands farthur into the pockets of his coat. Wincing inwardly, he ducked his head down, trying to avoid a knot of carolers that were making their way down the street. He wasn't in the mood to be serenaded by a group of people who couldn't carry a tune if it were equipped with a handle. *Knock it off, they're not that bad.* He mentally berated himself and forced his eyes upward to glance at them as he passed by. Their voices lifted through the streets, bringing a sense of calm to those who heard. Even he had to admit that it was relaxing to hear people's voices raised in something other than anger. The words of the song filtered to his hearing and he couldn't help but smile. Winter? Wonderland? Yeah, maybe it was. For the first time, he raised his head, looking out towards where he was walking instead of watching his feet shuffle along the pavement.

A soft humming sound made him prick an ear, turning towards the hauntingly familiar noise. Without meaning to, he found himself walking toward the sound, half closing his eyes in remembrance.

~*Silent night, Holy night.*~
~*All is calm, all is bright.*~
~*Round yon virgin mother and child*~
~*Holy infant so tender and mild,*~
~*Sleep in heavenly peace.*~
~*Sleep in heavenly peace*~

How old had he been? He barely remembered the soft words, the cries of joy upon seeing vaguely wrapped gifts one frigid morning. They hadn't known where the gifts had come from, they had been left on the church steps the night before. At best, they were simple, most of them likely having seen at least one generation of use. It didn't matter... to him and to the others there, it was as if someone had showered them with gold. There were a few children there who hadn't ever seen such things, and he was one of them. The idea of receiving presents was completely foreign to him, and he remembered the confusion that had occurred when Sister Helen had tried to explain it to him.

"It's in celebration of the birth of Christ." Her patient words had only made him wrinkle his nose as he tried to understand.

"So if it's his birthday, why are we getting presents?"

She chuckled, bringing her arms around him and holding him close. "He is our Saviour, Duo, and his birth is a time for all to celebrate. The giving of gifts lets us show others that this is a time of joy, and also reminds us of the gifts that were brought to the Christ Child by the Wise men."

Violet eyes were wide as the child absorbed the story. Some of the other children, the ones who had known families at some point, also came over and tried to help.

"Yeah, and Santa Claus brings presents to all the boys and girls who have been good." One girl offered. "Santa Claus doesn't exist!" Came the retort from a boy who had been listening. "He does too!" "Does not!" A third child stepped in, offering her own wisdom. "I was told that it was Saint Nicholas who came, and that he filled children's shoes with candy. That's why you leave your shoes outside the door before you come into the house." At this, the other two turned and looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Who the heck is Saint Nick?" Then the dispute REALLY started up.

"Children!" Sister Helen had moved to seperate them, leaving a still- confused Duo to wander away from them and look out the window, his chin resting upon folded arms. A year later, Maxwell Church would lay in ruins. Duo never forgot the stench of incinerated wood and the undeniable loom of Death that hung over that piece of land. To this day, he could walk past the former site of the church and would shiver inwardly every time. Shinigami hadn't released its hold over that place... or him.

~*Silent night, Holy night,*~
~*Shepherds quake at the sight,*~
~*Glory streams from heaven afar*~
~*Heavenly hosts sing alleluia*~
~*Christ the Saviour is born!*~
~*Christ the Saviour is born!*~

The song crept through his mind, bringing him back to the present. He found himself resting against the outer stone of the church his steps had led him to, the warm light filtering through the stained glass from the inside where a choir was singing the hymns for Christmas Eve Mass. If he strained hard enough, he could make out the image of the priest at the alter through the warped view the thick glass gave him. One hand reached down, clutching at the golden cross that lay against his chest as he lifted his gaze to the sky, violet eyes catching sight of the falling snowflakes as they came to rest nestled in his eyelashes.

"Dear God..." He whispered. The tone in his voice wasn't agitation, as it normally was when those wrods were uttered. Instead, it seemed to be a reverent plea. "Please. Remind me why we did this. These people have no idea what we went through, but we did it for them. Didn't we?" His attention flickered to each individual falling flake, looking for something that perhaps he'd never find in the physical world. "Remind me... why they had to die and I lived. Keep them safe for when I come back to them. Please?" He smiled softly, his hand tightening around the cross. "Maybe not this year... but sometime I'll be with you again. I'll be home for Christmas one more time, and then we'll be happy again. Won't we?"

Mass was almost over. The chorus had died, and even though he couldn't hear clearly, he recognized the intonations of the closing passages being read. He turned then, tears stinging his cheeks where the wind threatened to turn them into ice. It was late... it had to be close to or just after midnight if the Mass was winding down. His shoulders hunched forward, the melancholy mood taking him completely. It wasn't fair. He had a lot to be thankful for, didn't he? After all, he'd survived. All the pilots had. They'd succeeded where anyone else would have failed... then why were they all just as alone as they had been before this started?

His stomach growled fiercely, bringing him back from his thoughts once more as the scent of food crept up on him. He was beginning to think that just when he'd start slipping into that kind of mood, SOMETHING was bound to interrupt. Not lifting his head, he just glanced up to the sky for a second. "You trying to tell me something?" No answer came. He didn't expect it to. Unfortunately, he was so busy wondering just which Greater Power was screwing with him, that he almost walked right over a boy who looked to be no more than twelve years old.

"Hey! Careful, Mister."

Duo looked up, blinking for a moment at the smiling eyes that gleamed from above a thick woolen scarf. The boy wasn't alone, either. A man and woman, his parents most likely, were there was well and the three of them had set up a small hanging firepot on the street corner. Others were there as well, most of them the homeless who had no other way of getting warm. "Sorry kid... I didn't see you there."

"It's okay!" The boy said, reaching over and pushing a small bag into his hands. He could feel the heat radiating from the thin paper, almost unbearably hot to his frigid fingers. "Here. Maybe this will help lift your spirits."

"What's this?" He blinked, peering into the striped bag. Steam poured from the opening, obssuring his vision slightly.

"Chestnuts." The boy said, reaching for another bag and handing it to a woman who had paused to see what the attraction was.

"Chestnuts?" So that had been what he smelled. Holidays always had the most characteristic scents that went along with them. Chestnuts, pine trees, apple cider...

The boy's mother turned and smiled to him, holding up a small screened box filled with the nuts. She flashed him an impish grin. "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire!"

A couple of people chuckled and Duo couldn't help but smile as well. He bowed his head forward, laughing softly. "I don't believe you just said that."

"Well, it made you smile, didn't it?" She said, handing out another bag. "Not everyone has a warm place to be on the holidays. This is our way of repaying those who helped us." He must have looked confused, because she left the tending to her husband and son and walked over to him with a soft smile. "When we first came here, it was our last chance. The colony we were on was in danger during the war, and we had no choice but to leave. We had nothing by the time we got here, and what little we did have was gone too quickly. We thought that nothing was going to help us get back on our feet again." The shadow that fell across her face was lifted away as she smiled before beginning once more. "We had nothing left to do but pray, so we went to the Church just down the road a bit."

Duo turned, looking to where she pointed and realized it was the same church he had just been standing outside of. "One of the priests overheard my son praying for us to find a home. They helped us by giving us shelter while my husband and I found jobs, and sent Jason to school." Her eyes fell lovingly on her husband and son as she spoke. "Even after we were able to move out, we didn't have enough money to donate to the church. We still don't really. We give what we can, but we decided that this was a way to repay the parish for helping us."

"I understand." He whispered, looking to her before casting his glance to the cluster of people who were talking and joking... likely having the best time they could on a night like tonight. With a smile that actually reached his eyes, he handed the bag he'd been given to an elderly gentleman who looked as though he'd seen better days in his youth.

"God bless you, my son."

The smile widened just a bit as Duo looked up to the cloud-filled sky once more. "You know... I think he already has." He waved to the family, calling out to them over his shoulder as he ran down the street. "Merry Christmas!" He heard the call answered by nearly everyone on the tiny street corner, but he didn't turn around. His lips were parted in a grin as he raced towards the tiny apartment he called home, his breath following in his wake as it crystallized in the air.

~*Silent night, holy night*~
~*Son of God, love's pure light*~
~*Radiant beams from thy holy face*~
~*With the dawn of redeeming grace*~
~*Jesus, Lord, at thy birth.*~
~*Jesus, Lord, at thy birth*~

He threw open the door of his apartment, tossing his coat to the side and making it to the desk before the door even closed. Immediately, he started punching in a phone number from memory and stood there, hopping from foot to foot as it rang.

....and rang. And then rang some more. "Aw come ON, you don't celebrate Christmas, Heero, where the hell are you?"

"Hello?"

Duo blinked several times, his jaw working but no sound coming out. Of all the people he'd expected to see answering Heero's phone, Relena Dorlian was NOT one of them. "Uh... uh.. Hi, Relena!" He stuttered, trying not to sound like an idiot.

She just chuckled, shaking her head softly. "I know, I'm not the one you want to talk to. Heero'll be down in a minute."

He was about to respond when he heard something that he never expected to hear in his life. Heero Yuy completely losing his cool. "Who the FUCK had the idea to hang this stupid SHIT up here anyway???" Relena started slightly, then turned to face somewhere off the vid screen.

"What on earth are you doing?" She stepped aside and Duo was nearly going insane wondering what was going on. If he could have turned the vidscreen on their end of the line, he would have, at that point. As it was, he had to settle for sound only.

"Heero Yuy, how did you get up there??"

"I used the ladder. The ladder that you apparently took to put that thing-"

"Angel."

"Fine, that angel-thing on top of the tree! Would you mind bringing it BACK now, so I can get down?"

"You dove off a skyscraper, rode on the bottom of a truck, nearly burned up in the atmosphere trying to blow up a ship the size of Texas, and you can't figure out how to get down off the rafters without a LADDER?"

Duo couldn't help it, by then he was in hysterical laughter, clutching his sides.

"SHUT UP, DUO!" The harmonized yell from the both of them only made it worse. He barely managed to get to the chair before his legs gave out from under him. He heard scraping sounds... the ladder across the floor, he assumed, and the muffled grumbling of someone cursing in Japanese. A few minutes later, Heero's face appeared on the screen and Duo tried his best to keep a straight face. After failing miserably, he was suddenly very glad that he was FAR away from the L1 colony at that particular moment.

"Duo..." The warning tone in Heero's voice sobered him up, but not completely.

"Hai, hai... threats later, I just called to wish you- umm... you two a Merry Christmas." Straightening himself in the chair, he finally composed himself and smiled to the figure in front of him. "I know you don't think of it as a holiday and all, but I wanted to say it anyway." He moved a bit closer to the screen, as if he were looking past Heero. "Although from the looks of it, you're getting a crash course in Christmas as we speak."

"You could say that. Why you feel the need to hang dying tree parts and lights everywhere is beyond me."

"Oh Heero, you'll love it when it's done!" Relena's singsong voice came across the phone.

The Japanese pilot just rolled his eyes and glared offscreen. "If it doesn't kill me first."

"How the HELL was I supposed to know you were up there??"

Both boys scooted back a step at that one. Duo was the first to speak up after they'd recovered from the shock. "Heero?"

"Hn."

"Did Relena just... swear?"

"Hn."

"That's what I thought." Duo just shook his head, giggling still. "Alright, I'll leave you two alone to decorate or destroy your apartment, whichever comes first. Merry Christmas!"

Heero smiled slightly, nodding to Duo over the phone. "Merry Christmas to you too, Duo."

The image flickered out and Duo leaned back in the chair with a grin. "Who'd have thought..."

The next two numbers he tried got no answer. He hadn't expected either of them to be home, really. Like Heero, Quatre and Wufei didn't celebrate the Christian holiday of Christmas. To Quatre, he left a pleasant video message wishing him a Merry Christmas... to Wufei he left an off key rendition of 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus' before wishing the Chinese pilot a happy holiday as well. He was going to get KILLED for that one, he was certain. He was just about to dial the final number when his doorbell rang.

*Who the hell...* He thought, sliding from the chair and opening the door. No one was there. He looked down the hall but didn't see anyone or anything that could have been there. He was about to go back in when he saw a box laying across the hall wrapped in brightly coloured paper. The Gundam Pilot in him never quite died after the war, and without thinking, he found himself inspecting the box from all sides before he ever even thought about touching it. There was a small tag on the top with 'Duo Maxwell' written on it in a neat copperplate script. *Well, the worst that can happen is I get blown sky high.* With that, his curiosity took over and he picked up the box, walking back to his apartment with it.

His eyes were fairly glittering as he ripped open the paper, revealing a plain cardboard box sealed with tape. He groaned as he realized that it wasn't ordinary tape, either. Someone had gone through the trouble of finding the reinforced packing tape that had dozens of tiny plastic threads woven through it. There was enough on the box that he knew Doomsday would come before he got it open without a knife, and set off in search of the aforementioned pointy object. Once he'd procured a sharp knife from the kitchen, he moved back into the small living room and dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor next to the box.

The next ten minutes were spent in various stages of muttering and cursing as he worked the tape loose from one end, only to find that without the other end being open as well, the top wasn't coming off. By the time the box was completely un-taped, he was seriously contemplating finding the person who had left this box and finding a much more satisfying use for the blade in his hand. Sliding the top off the box, he was greeted by the sight of tissue paper wrapped tightly around a flat, rectangular object. As he unwrapped it carefully, his eyes began to widen. Trembling hands held the sides of an ornate cherrywood frame, his own smiling face looking out at him from the painted canvas as well as the faces of the four people closer to him than any other. The artist had captured the five Gundam pilots perfectly... from Duo's violet eyes to Quatre's sun- kissed hair. It was so realistic, that he half expected Wufei to begin speaking and tell him to stop staring like a fool.

"Merry Christmas, Duo."

He was up on his feet, facing the voice before he even realized what he was doing... but some part of him was still in control enough to keep the precious painting from falling to the ground. Leaning against the wall was a slender figure, arms crossed over his chest as one emerald eye focused on him.

"T-Trowa?" Duo was in shock. Trowa had done this?

"I had one made for each of us." He said simply. "I can be sentimantal at times... and we've all drifted apart. You were the only family I had, and I think I wasn't the only one who felt that way."

It was more than Duo had heard Trowa speak in nearly all of the time he had known the Heavyarms pilot. He hadn't known that the others might think along the same lines he did. They WERE the only family he had, and it had nearly killed him when they'd seperated after the war. He'd assumed that the others had all gone on with their lives, and that he was the only one that felt the loneliness that had settled on him afterward.

"It's beautiful..." It was all he could say, his mind staggering as it tried to put all of this into place. He had to have slipped in while Duo had gone out into the hall. Trowa was silent, and could sneak up on an alert cat if so inclined. Part of him was overjoyed as well... Christmas was meant to be shared, and now he wouldn't be alone. Unless he left.... "Trowa?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you- I mean..." Duo sighed, bowing his head forward. "Would you like to stay for a while?"

For a moment, he thought the other was going to say no. The silence that descended over the room almost made him wince with its intensity. *You went too far, Maxwell...* The thought was interrupted as he felt a cool hand against his cheek, lifting his face to the Latin pilot. A faint smile graced Trowa's face, and it was the first time Duo could ever recollect seeing it.

"Thank you."

It was as close to an affirmitive answer he was going to get and Duo found himself grinning through tears. "No... thank YOU. Let me go find a place for this before I do something stupid like drop it." The tension Duo felt vanished as he stepped away, moving across the room and pulling down one of the rather tacky paintings that had come with the apartment. He had climbed up onto the couch and was trying to get it straight with the help of Trowa, who was standing back far enough to tell if it was off center or not. Once it passed the inspection of both boys, Duo went into the kitchen and heated up two cups of cider from the fridge.

Walking back out, he was greeted by soft music playing from the stereo and the sight of Trowa standing out on the tiny balcony. The cool air flowed past him as he went out the door, handing the steaming cup to the other boy before they both turned to lean against the railing and look out over the city. They stood in silence, just enjoying the soft lull of the Christmas songs that filtered their way out the door into the night air.

Duo looked up to the stars, hands clasping the mug as he let his thoughts carry him once more. *Thank you. Thank you for reminding me. I can't be sad because they died, Sister Helen and Father Maxwell wouldn't have wanted it that way at all. We won, and made this place safe for those who couldn't fight on their own. We're not alone...*

"Duo?"

He shook himself out of his reverie and glanced towards the other boy.

"What are you thinking?"

A smile formed on the American's face as he remembered the family on the corner. No matter what happened, he would always remember the hope that he'd seen in their eyes, and the smiles that they brought to others with both their deeds and their words. "Just dreaming."

Trowa raised a brow, tilting his head to the side faintly. "Dreaming of what?"

Duo just chuckled, shaking his head softly. The words of a song drifted past his hearing and without thinking he found himself echoing them as his hand strethed out to capture a snowflake for a brief instant. "I'm dreaming... of a white Christmas."

Trowa just rolled his eyes, muttering something about crazy Americans even though he had a smile on his face once more. Duo just smiled, raising his cup slightly. "To a white Christmas... and to many more."

"To many more." Trowa nodded, bringing the cups together with a soft clink of porcelain.

~*Silent night... Holy Night...*~

~Owari

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