I Wish You Saw...
Disclaimer: Not mine. Duh.
Music: Scar Tissue (Red Hot Chili Peppers) and random Irish drinking songs (Bill Craig)
Warnings: Sarcastic humor, cutting, angst, shonen-ai, word play, more may come. I don't know.
Note: For those of you who read it on the first day, I've out done myself from even my little blue book.
Chapter One: Screams and Darkness
The screaming has started again. God, I hate the screaming. I wish she'd just stop already. She doesn't know why I come home drunk every day, to her I just do. Please, Hil, just stop...
I'm sitting against the door to my room, as Hilde pounds on the door, yelling at me. I look over the room, as she yelled at me. The depression welled up in me again. I've been bad, again, haven't I?
"Stop..." I whisper, my voice sounding weak and devoid of life. "Please, just stop..." If Hilde heard me, I couldn't tell. The little voice in the back of my head whispered at me.
'Duo! You've been a bad boy. You need to be punished. Come on, Duo. The knife is there, just a few inches away under the table. Go for it.' I obey. After all, I hurt Hilde, and I let down Quatre. I'm nothing but a failure. I lock the door as quietly as I can; just a second before Hilde resumed her pounding. I walk over to the nightstand and peel up the tape, releasing the knife from the bottom and stuffing it in my boot. I can't cut here. Hilde would want to know what happened. The best bet is to go 'out'. When I'm out of the house, I can claim that I got into a fight. I only have to omit the part where the other person is myself. Slipping out of my window, I heard the door fly inward. Hilde is now hunting around the room, screaming for me. She deserves better. If I weren't always hanging around, she could get a proper boyfriend and be happy. Maybe tonight I won't come home.
I slip into the park, deep under the shadows of the trees. Slipping out of my shirt, I take up my knife and survey the extent of the damage that has already been inflicted on the poor skin. I started five years ago, but with in the last year it got worse. I kept messing up, and when you screw up you need to make amends. There was a clear patch of skin just above my elbow. It looked silly, the soft un-marked-ness of it, and it made me angry.
I sank the blade into the flesh, not cutting, but stabbing. It doesn't matter to me if it does permanent damage. Now, slowly, I pull the blade out of my arm, hearing a soft sucking sound as a testament to how deep I went. Thinking, I run the bloody blade over my chest, wondering if I should start marking it as well. Small patterns flowed over my chest as I twirled the knife. One for Quatre, now one for Hilde. Taking the blade between my fingers, I draw the point a little harder over the flesh just under my left nipple, dragging it right, and then curved down to my belly button. That was good. Now, I could go home to Hilde. She needs the money I bring in. Guess I'm good for something, huh.
"DUO MAXWELL, WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN! I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK!" Well, that's just peachy. I've been bad. Again. "Look, Duo, honey, we have to go to Quatre's house. He's having a reunion party, and he thinks you should be there. You missed the Halloween party, cause you were out drinking, jerk! You are SOOOOOOO going to this one!" Hilde ushered me into my room, and told me to get ready, and that we were leaving tomorrow around five. She left and I passed out on the bed. I think the stab wound needs a bandage...
Hilde was facing me, talking animatedly and waving her hands to punctuate her words. We were at a quiet little restaurant that she liked. It was a nice place, but not my style. I prefer the party scene. Just call me old-fashioned. I remember this time, it's haunted me since it happened. Two months have passed. It seems like forever ago. In slow motion, I watched the drunken fight break out across the street, and before either of us can move, one of the bastards ran at us. I did nothing, and the man grabbed Hilde. In one hand he held a broken bottle, in the other, Hilde's head. Still I did nothing. Damn it! It didn't happen this way! I watched as the glass descended and popped Hilde's eyes, first one and then the other. Hilde!
I pop up, wincing as the cut on my stomach pulled apart. I remember what happened that day. She had taken me out for lunch, 'cause she wanted to talk. We barely saw each other anymore at that point, even though we lived in the same house. When we were charged, I fought against the jerk. He cut me up really badly, but that didn't slow me down. He grabbed Hilde and threatened to stab her. I didn't move. He put the glass over her eyes. I thought I had a clear shot. My bullet tore his muscles apart and his arm dropped, glass cleanly slicing Hilde's eyes. She has taken to wearing sunglasses, and I'm her 'seeing eye dog'. More like 'seeing eye scumbag'.
Looking at the clock beside my bed, I realize I have a good hour to pack and bandage myself up. I decided to bandage first. I enter the bathroom quietly, and turn on the sink. As I wash my arm, I looked up. My face was not the normal face that the other pilots knew. It was tanned from hours of construction work, but gaunt. My beautiful hair had lost its luster. Without my shirt, I looked almost laughable. My arms and legs were normal, having daily exercise, but the rest was thin from lack of nutrition. So far, I've been sent home from work early seven times in the last month, and miss at least 28 meals in the last two weeks alone. I don't think that you could constitute a slice of bread supporting a thinner slice of ham as a meal, though. Sometimes I wonder how I stay alive. There were dark bruises under my eyes from lack of sleep. Ya know that if you fall asleep, the monsters will get you. I think I'm getting a cold, but I don't care.
I stopped cleaning it, and pulled out a handful of cotton gauze. Stuffing it over the stab, I located an ace bandage and wound it over the gauze. If anyone asked me about it, I could say I sprained my elbow at work. I finished working on my arm, and started to clean the cut on my stomach. It wasn't fatal, more's the pity. It DID sting though, and that's what counts. I kinda hope it gets infected. I didn't bother putting a bandage on it, it wasn't deep enough to be a problem. Locating the blue polo shirt I wore last night, and sniffing it, I figure it would go through another day and put it on. The pants I wore yesterday, however, were gone. Blue jeans covered in dirt, mud, sawdust, and other disgusting pieces of god knows what wasn't exactly acceptable clothing to meet long-lost friends. I went to my closet, and pulled out a new pair of pants. Black. What else? Grabbing my knife out of my boot and storing it at the bottom of my bag, I piled two black jeans and two blue jeans on it in that order. Then I added my laptop, and covered it up with three black priest-style shirts, a navy polo shirt, and a white T-shirt. To top it off, I squashed in a pair of soft black pants for sleeping and some nice shiny shoes each with a pair of whitey tightys stuffed in the toe. I don't know WHY people think I wear boxers. As a soldier, I know that it is important to be able to be able to move quickly and with the least amount of bags. By having underpants that fit easily into your smallest pair of shoes minimized the amount of space needed to pack. And in a small side compartment was my emergency cut kit. Can't leave home without that. Glancing at the clock, I realized that I had time, so I refolded the close in the bag. Rolling the shirts and pants into cylinders reduced the space they took up. Actually, it cleared up enough space for me to add a robe. Hilde poked her head in and yelled at me to get up and get dressed. We were leaving in five minutes.
The trip was dull, to say the least. The most exciting thing that happened was when the small argument over who would sit next to the window. Now, as we disembark from the craft, I can't help but wonder if my shirt is big enough. I prey that no one can see how thin I've gotten. Just outside the terminal, I saw Trowa holding a sign with our names on it. He was still as uni-banged as ever, wearing a pair of jeans and a forest green T-shirt. Honestly, I didn't know that they made shirts that color. Of course, I didn't know that they made shoes of the garish fresh-street-paint-yellow variety that Heero wore, so that wasn't such a big suprise. If Trowa's appearance without his customary turtleneck made me think twice, Quatre made me fall over backward, literally.
"DUO!" Was about the extent of the warning I had, before Quatre tackled me knocking me off my feet. "Duo, I've missed you! How are you? And Hilde? Where is she, by the way? I thought I told her to come, also!" I put my hand in front of Quatre's mouth to stop the flow of words that burst from his mouth. I wriggled out from under the blond with difficulty, and avoided looking at Trowa. He'd taken up glaring at me as if I was evil. Closer than I thought. Looking at Hilde, I realized how much she had changed since we last saw the others. Her hair, once boy short, now fell to her shoulders, and she had taken to wearing dresses with patterns on the front. That way, she could get dressed easily in the morning by finding the front and having me zip up the back. The tennis shoes she wore helped with her balance. She was learning to get along in the world. I put my arm around Hilde and turned her to face Quatre.
"Q-bean. This IS Hilde." I said to him, and watched as his jaw dropped open. I don't think I've ever seen Quatre this shocked. Hilde's sunglasses mirrored his face back at him, and he realized that he was catching flies. Quickly, he closed his mouth with an audible snap. Trowa looked mutinous.
"Wow, Hilde..." Quatre said in a whisper. Trowa looked like he was going to strangle something with my braid. I'm not sure if it was me, Hilde, Quatre, or some innocent bystander. I was willing to bet it was a combination of the four.
"I'm blind, not dying, Quatre." Hilde said with her usual dry humor. Obviously Quatre had forgotten this little fact, because he was openly staring at us. Trowa looked a bit calmer, still a little POed, but nothing bad. Quatre seemed oblivious to Trowa's affection, and I could just SEE the way they danced around each other. If only someone loved me like that...
Quatre piled us into the black mini van he had rented just to pick us up and drove us to his house. Well, I guess house isn't the right word. Sure, it was home like and full of family, but SHIT! I've never seen a HOUSE that BIG! That thing must qualify for a mansion, if not, then a castle! Now there was a place you could imagine being haunted, if it weren't for all the happy people around. The Maguanac greeted us at the door, gathering around and shaking hands or crushing us in hugs.
Sally Po waltzed out of the hallway that Q-ball was about to lead Hilde and me down, and smacked into me, knocking me down.
"Oh, Duo! Are you all right? I didn't think I hit you that hard, did I?" She asked, helping me up. When I was on my feet, she hugged me. "It's good to see you aga...Duo! You're all skin and bones! Hasn't Hilde been feeding you!" She exclaimed, earning me a suspicious look from Quatre. He didn't say anything, but you could tell that he thought something was up.
"Sally!" I exclaim, coming up with a half-truth in a split second. "You never told me you were Jewish!"
"I'm a Taoist, Duo." She said in an amused sort of way.
"Really? I thought it was only old married Jewish ladies that wanted to stuff food down your throats." I said in a joking manner. I hate and love this jesters mask I wear. It keeps the others from finding out my secrets, yet it also makes it hard to be myself. The doorbell rang and Quatre went to open the door. I had a sinking feeling I knew who it would be...