WARNING! This story is rated T for the following: cutting, suicidal thoughts/actions, yaoi/shounen-ai/whatever you want to call it, and domestic violence (LOTS). Yullen, but starts out Laven.
This is based on the anime, minus all the Neah stuff. Lavi and Allen have been dating for a few months and Allen is convinced that it's his fault that Lavi hits him. Kanda has noticed that the Moyashi hasn't been acting right since they started going out, but he doesn't say anything. Will he find out before something life-threatening happens? Present day AU.
Disclaimer: I don't own D. Gray-Man or the characters.
Bruise
Chapter 1: Swelling
I huddle closer to the back of the train seat, my knees pulled to my chest and my back against the wall, and I try to ignore the surly bluenette in the chair opposite of mine. The mission we were coming back from hadn't gone very well. Not that we didn't get the Innocence, because we did, but I got in Kanda's way a few too many times for his liking. Of course, he hates me anyway, and I know that he doesn't know how much he hurts me when he calls me pathetic and useless. Lavi does it enough as it is.
Turning away from the seat for a moment, I steal a glimpse at Kanda, finding him meditating, and it made me happy. Even though I can't stand working with the jerk, I love going on extensive missions with him, but not because I want to. With Kanda, I don't have to glue a plastic smile to my face and act like I'm not bleeding inside. I don't have to hide behind the happy clown mask.
I don't have to care if I look weak. He doesn't care, and I like it that way.
Sure, Lavi's great, but I act around him, too. If I don't, he'll go off on me about how worthless I am. And he's right. I just don't like to face it, and that's why he hits me. Okay, I won't lie about it being a pain to put make-up on everyday to hide the black eyes and purple blemishes, and I have to wear long-sleeves to cover the other bruises, but it really does knock the sense into me.
The only bad part about it is the sex. The only time I've ever liked it was the first time, when I lost my virginity, because Lavi was gentle with me. He gave me foreplay and prepared me, and everything, so after the initial pain, it felt wonderful.
But after that, it was just him telling me to get on my knees and try not to scream too loud. The pain is nearly unbearable, and he only ever uses my blood as lubricant. I've actually lost count of how many times he's ripped me from the inside out, but all I can do is lay there and power through it, biting my lip until blood dribbles down my chin and mixes with my saliva. After a while though, I got used to it, the bruises on my hips and the inside of my thighs from his knees, and the rips heal in a few days if I don't train.
"Oi, Moyashi! What are you doing?" I hear from the other side of the train compartment. It's not until then that I realize a few silent tears had slipped down my face, and I quickly wipe them away, answering in a cracked voice, "I'm fine, BaKanda. Leave me alone."
After a moment of tranquility, he growls, "Che, weak moron. Can't you even take a few hits without breaking down?"
Shut up. You know nothing!
"What should I expect from a moyashi like you though? Crying at the drop of a hat."
Stop. I've fought it all day. Don't make me do it.
"Why am I always stuck with the weaklings like you? I can't believe you call yourself an exorcist."
Please, Kanda! Don't make me do it! I'm begging you!
"Useless half-breed."
Standing from my seat abruptly, I make my way out of the compartment, feeling midnight eyes stabbing knives into my back as I slam the door, and I walk to the bathroom, my trusty Altoids tin in my pocket. The finder that came with Kanda and me had been hit with an akuma bullet sadly, so I didn't have to worry about there being any suspicions. Stepping into the bathroom and locking the door, I slide down to the floor in the little wall area between the toilet and sink, letting the tears come.
Useless.
The tin is in my hand, and I open it, pulling back the paper to reveal a shiny razor blade.
Weak.
I pull my shirt over my head, uncovering the hundreds of tiny cutting scars on my right arm, and I find an empty area just barely, bringing the blade closer to the skin.
Mistake.
The tip pricks my flesh, crimson beginning to well to the surface.
Broken.
With a wince, I slice my skin, watching in fascination as the blood oozes from the cut and drips to the floor, and I quickly get toilet paper, pressing it to the wound.
Why were you even born?
It takes a moment, but I take out the gauze I keep in my boot and get the cut bandaged, feeling so much better. When I get back to Kanda's and my compartment, the atmosphere is heavy and weighing me down, but I ignore it as I curl up close to the window, watching the barren trees pass by. It was pretty warm for March, but it was still chilly, and the rain shower we'd received didn't help with it any. The sun's peek barely touched the sky above the distant mountain, watercolor yellows and reds streaking through the sky and trying to ward off the coming darkness, and the cobalt blue swam with stars, the claw mark moon in the sky hardly letting off any light as I think of Kanda's eyes. His eyes were the same color, and I hate them just as much, no matter how beautiful.
The night was a cursed time in my mind. It washes over the landscape like it has the right to do so, shadowing everything in its deadly veil of blackness, and it intoxicates one's mind, influencing the nightmares and vulgar creatures that live in the darkness to attack us while we sleep without a care in the world.
Just like Kanda. He walks around like he's of the utmost royalty, piercing anyone that dares to approach him with his deadly glare, the blue so dark it's unnatural, and he enjoys causing others to suffer, but mostly me. Because I'm different. Because I'm breaking, piece by piece. Because I'm weak.
Suddenly, I'm ripped from my thoughts as the train comes to a screeching halt, tossing me face first out of my seat and across the compartment.
Right onto that sadistic jerk.
I'm practically straddling him as the train jerks forward again, and I instinctually grab onto his shoulders and cling to him, waiting for the jolts to pass while I hide my face.
"Get off me, Baka Moyashi!" Kanda shouted, pushing me into the floor, and my butt hits hard, jarring me thoroughly. Glaring at me, he continues angrily, "I'm not going to cuddle you like the Usagi does! I'm not gay."
Smirking, I get back into my seat and smart off, "Really? I wouldn't have been able to tell. That long hair of yours screams that you would be a submissive uke, begging for it on yo―"
Next thing I knew, my collar was in Kanda's clenched fist, and he leans down to my ear, whispering threateningly, "One more word out of your mouth, and I swear I'll punch you so hard you won't be able to move your lips."
Hanging limply in his grip, I mutter, "Like I care."
"What?"
"Do it, Kanda. Hit me," I say, not caring. True, I'd have to cover my face with more foundation, but it's not like it's anything different from what I'm used to. The bluenette pulled back, giving me a confused look as I stare defiantly into his eyes, seeing my own serious expression reflected back at me.
Cover up with make-up in the mirror. Swear to yourself it's never going to happen again. You cry alone and then he swears he love you!
Song lyrics calm me in these situations, and as Kanda glared at me, it took a lot of calmness to meet it. Scowling, he growls, "Why do say that?"
"Just another bruise, Kanda. Doesn't matter to me. Now, will you please leave me alone?" I ask, waiting until he lets me go to curl up, and I snuggle closer to the seat, taking my folded exorcist jacket from the other end and splaying it over me. The burning gaze in my back causes me to squirm internally, and I look over my shoulder at the samurai, "Do you need something?"
Turning away, he grumbles, "Che."
Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the velvet backing on my seat, allowing my eyelids to fall slowly.
Please, don't visit me tonight, Mr. Nightmare.
oO_Oo_oO_Oo
Quietly, I inhale my food as Kanda silently slurps his soba, and I try not to look at him. We hadn't spoken at all since yesterday, but I didn't mind. Like I said, the less I had to act, the better, and that was all the time with Kanda.
When we get back to our compartment, I dig through my bag under the seat, searching for my mp3 player, and I nearly let out a victory cry when I finally find the device. That excitement was quickly extinguished when I realized I didn't bring my headphones, and I really didn't have anything else to do in the next five hours before we get to the Order. Holding my entertainment source, I glance at Kanda who was reading what looked to be a decent sized novel, and I ask softly, "Kanda?"
He grunted to let me know he heard me, and I continue, "Would it bother you if I listened to music? I forgot my headphones and…."
"I don't care as long as it's not something stupid," he grumbled, not looking my way even once as I settled on my seat. Flipping through the songs, I get to one of my favorite songs: "Dear Agony" by Breaking Benjamin.
Quietly humming to the rock music, I drift to a land away from here, away from Kanda, away from my abusive boyfriend, and away from my bruises and scars. My mp3 player sings, "Leave me alone. God, let me go. I'm blue and cold. Black sky will burn. Love, pull me down. Hate, lift me up. Just turn around. There's nothing left."
"Do you always listen to such depressing music, Moyashi?" Kanda asked indifferently, turning his page. Closing my eyes, I reply, "It's Allen, and pretty much. I don't really find you as the type to jam out with Lady Gaga and Kesha."
The bluenette turned to me for a moment, seeming to scan my face before turning back to his book, "Why? I thought you were constantly happy."
I laugh at the idea and say, "You're a bigger moron than I thought, BaKanda! No one's ever truly happy without reason. Why do you care anyways?"
"I don't," he deadpanned.
"Then why ask? You generally aren't the person that lets curiosity get the best of him."
"It was a statement."
"The 'why' part wasn't a statement," I continue to harass him. Shutting the book harshly, he glared at me and growled, "Mind your own business, Moyashi."
Annoyance made my eyebrow twitch as I stared back at him, liquid chromium and blazing cobalt mixing hazardously, "You're the one that asked. Tell me why you give a crap and I'll tell you why I listen to depressing music."
"Che," he muttered, reopening the book. Part of me knew that he wouldn't let anything out, mostly due to lack of trust.
Quickly retracing my thoughts, I wonder, Lack of trust, huh? Interesting.
I ask, "Kanda, do you trust anyone?"
It takes less than a second for him to reply bluntly, "No."
"So if you were in danger, you don't think Lavi, Lenalee, or I would protect you?"
"Never said I didn't think you would. One, I can take care of myself. Two, I know the three of you are moronic hero complexes. Three, there's a difference between trusting someone and expecting them to rescue you," he explain emotionlessly, his eyes not leaving his book, but it was obvious he wasn't reading.
"Then, what's your definition of trust?" I ask, curiously. Scowling, he growls, "Why do you listen to depressing music?"
Nodding, I say, "Deal. Depressing music cheers me up."
He gives me a look that plainly stated that he was confused, but nonetheless he holds up his end of the bargain, "When you trust someone, you show them your vulnerability, and bond to them."
"You don't trust people, because you think it would make you look weak?"
Smirking, he looks over at me, "Weakness is when the enemy can use something against you. I don't care if people get hurt as long as I don't have to deal with it."
"All the better," I utter, curling up with my music device as it plays "Tears Don't Fall" by Bullet for my Valentine.
A known fact is that takes will to survive. What happens when you have no will? What happens when you cut and every thought before the numbness hits you is "Should I cut a little too deep this time?" or "No one would know that it wasn't an accident if I hide the pill bottle."
What happens when you're bed ridden, because you can't walk? You can't limp around the Order and claim nothing is wrong. You can't forget to put on your make-up one morning and risk people asking about your face being black and purple. You can't let anyone know what's happening.
I can't even talk too much, because Lavi will get mad at me, and he claims that more people listen to me than him. But it helps. I mean, if he didn't do that then someone else that wouldn't tell me might get aggravated with me, and I didn't want that, so it makes sense for him to knock some intelligence into me, even if it leaves a mark.
Part of me says that I should stand up for myself, but that part was microscopic. Come on, if no one comes to my rescue, they must not care, right? Lenalee would try to ignore me if she found out. Kanda wouldn't give a flip, maybe cuss that I'm a moron, but what else is new?
"Never Again" by Nickelback comes on, and I find myself singing along nearly inaudibly, "Just tell the nurse you slipped and fell. It starts to sting as it starts to swell. She looks at you. She wants the truth. It right out there in the waiting room with those hands, looking just as sweet as he can! She's just a woman! Well, never again."
I glance up and meet impossibly dark eyes, and Kanda asks, "When did you start listening to that kind of music? It wasn't before you got to the Order."
Nodding, I answer, "I started when I became numb."
Author Note: So? How was it? Any good? Should I continue it? Tell me what you think, and please, Please, PLEASE R/R! Facedown-Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.