Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does not belong to me. Alas and alack.

Duo's Day of Gratitude

He was sitting outside the supermarket. A broken pile of rags and garbage. Not really bothering anyone except for an occasional plea of, "spare your change?"

An old man, worn with time and life.

No one gave him a passing glance.

As I walk down the aisles, placing items in my basket, I think about him sitting out there.

At one point in my life, my options came down to two choices. Learn to steal or learn to beg. Subservience never rested well with me so I opted for a life of crime.

I was never the type to sit passively and let life do as it would with me. That's how I'd ended up in charge of the gang after Solo died, and that's how I ended up piloting Scythe. Duo Maxwell waits for nothing. In this life, if you don't take charge of your own fate, you'll be left in the dust.

But I know people who probably did end up like that man, and if this were L2, I might in fact know that man very well.

I stare at the items in my basket and ponder life's little ironies. Bread, oranges, milk, cheese and a chocolate bar. All things that are so common and necessary, yet there was a time in my life that they were only a forbidden dream. What I would have given for the things I have now. The fact that I shed blood, murdered hundreds and sold my soul to the devil himself to get where I am, does not escape me.

The past never does go away, it sticks around to haunt you forever.

They wanted me to cut my hair when I joined Preventers. I refused. To my surprise it was Wufei who stepped in to vouch for me.

"A warrior's honor is all he has to hold him to his path. Take this away and you are left with nothing more than a cold blooded killer."

Chang doesn't speak up often, but when he does you generally listen. Still waters running deep and all that. Thanks to him, they left me alone, braid and promise still intact.

Trust Wufei to be the type of guy who understands something you can't even explain to yourself.

Today my stomach is full, I have money in my wallet and a home to call my own. Tomorrow those things will still exist. And the day after that, and the day after that.

My day was nothing like that man's out there. And for that, I'm extremely grateful. Even if this makes me a little selfish.

I did my time, but I'm still paying for my crimes. Nights filled with dreams that I awake from in a silent scream. Memories that will haunt and chase me for all eternity.

I wonder what that man did, to end up where he is.

Does it really matter?

Suddenly the bread and fruit weigh heavily in my arms. Grabbing a jar of peanut butter off the shelf I head to the checkout. Holding up the line, I scribble an address on my receipt and walk back outside.

He's still there, hunched against the wall, no longer speaking but just existing.

I hand him the scrap of paper and he looks up at me, eyes defeated and without curiosity. "It's a shelter not far from here. Tell them I sent you and they'll let you in."

When I hand him the food, he gasps and clutches it to his chest tightly. "My name's Duo Maxwell. They'll take care of you."

I don't know what his story is or even if he'll go. But somebody took a chance on me once, and I can do the same.

That's why we have tomorrows, so we can start over.