Duncan stood outside the apartment, hallway light flickering above him. He raised his hand to the door knob, but let the cool metal stick to his sweaty skin, not turning the handle just yet. He felt himself shaking, and heard the unsteadiness in his breaths. He looked at his reflection in the door handle. He was only 21, but he felt like he was 50. He raised his other hand to run though his hair. His green mo hawk had been gone for some time, and in its place was a messy mop of black hair. His dark eyes glistened with tears, letting his anxiety show through his normally hardened facade. He couldn't believe what he had done. He didn't know if he wanted to cry, scream or throw something. He swallowed his tears that had caught in his throat and opened the door; probably slower than normal. He listened to the door hinges complain against the movement. He heard the T.V static and Courtney's soft breathing. He softly closed the door, listening to it click as it closed. He just stood there again, palms flat against the wood. He felt like he was drowning, having to fight for each breath his took. He spun around and had never been more relieves in his life. Courtney, his girlfriend of 3 years, was asleep on the couch, a political science book lying carelessly on the floor beside her. The glow from the T.V lit up her face, exposing dried tears on her cheeks. He saw "Casablanca" credits on the screen, explaining the tears. Her brown hair was still slightly damp from a shower. He sighed, his nervousness ebbing away drop by drop. Not tonight, he won't break her heart tonight. He clicked off the T.V and placed a kiss on her forehead. Her eyelids fluttered as she came out of REM. She smiled sleepily up at him. He plastered a smile on his face as he muttered words of affection to her. She sighed, muttered something about the time, as he carried her to their bedroom. He placed her gently, as if she were a porcelain doll, on the duvet. She went out like a light.

Duncan stood in front of the mirror, towel around his waist. He let the steam steep into his lungs and clear his mind. Not tonight and not ever, he decided. She'd never know of Gwen, and he'd never have to speak a word of it. This question was left in his mind; is he strong enough to end this? This question buzzed around in his head like an angry bee. He attempted to shake it off, but it refused to cease. He felt his body shaking again as he walked over to the bed. He looked down at Courtney, and the guilt came crashing down. He saw the bed fly at him and felt his knees crash to the floor. The room was violently shaking; or was that him? He sucked in gasping breath after gasping breath, tears flowing freely to drip off his chin. Silent sobs shook him to his bones. Maybe he was a masochist in the way he kept trying to look at her, even though it killed him to see her.

He gained control of himself long enough to drag himself into bed; but he still could not face her. The empty feeling in his gut ate away at his insides, but he shoved it down, along with any remaining emotions for Gwen. Courtney snuggled into his back, her breaths giving him goose skin. He heard her mutter sweet nothings into his spine. He didn't have anything in his to say anything back; it took all his energy to control his shaking. She sits up suddenly, and is leaning over his face. She asks if he is feeling alright. He shoves the hand on his forehead away and ignores her concerned gaze. She huffs, frustrated and rolls to her side of the bed. He sits up, causing her alarm. She moves to grab him and he moves away He looks at her injured expression; tonight he will break her heart. He spits out the truth, and feel the fist impact on his jaw. He sighs, and as she rants and raves, and wanders around to find clothing. She yells for him to get out. He grabs a bag and leaves her noise behind. Standing in the apartment hallway, he could hear her sobs.

The clock is mocking him as he walks down the hallway towards it. He can hear each individual ticking of the second hand. He felt like he was fighting through a tidal wave to get to the elevator. He wanted to turn off his hearing; shut out ticking and her sobbing. He hits the button, finally, and watched the light as he waited. It couldn't have some up fast enough. He threw himself into the doors and against the far wall. The door shut and he sat there, staring at the floor buttons. The elevator was moving then, but he didn't remember when he hit the button. He sucked in deep breaths, trying to calm himself before he hit the car garage. He thought he'd be relieved, her finally knowing about his infidelity, but it felt like his heart had been ripped out. It left an empty, hollow feeling below his ribcage. Tears still threatened to overflow, and the salt was stinging in his eyes. The door opened and he felt himself start walking towards the car; but he felt like a ghost in a shell.

He drove, but was in a trance. He registered stop signals and street lights in his peripherals, but doesn't recall stopping for them. He was in a haze, a stupor; like he was drunk. He stopped on the curb, right outside her loft; which sat above and Irish Pub. He turned off the car, and wondered if she would even be awake. The light was on in her bedroom so he assumed.

The stairwell on the side of the building protested as he made his way up. Week old snow clung to the metal and chilled his bones when he grasped the railing. He took the key from above the frame, now shaking from the cold as he let himself inside. The warmth of her small loft embraced him, inviting him to stay. He pulled off his sweatshirt, tossing it over an armchair as he walked the short distance to her room. He felt as if he had just been here, everything remained constant from his last visit. Light busted, in shattered pieces, in the kitchen. Dishes over flowed the sink. You'd almost think she was a bachelor, judging by the shape of her small home. He swung open her bedroom door, and her eyes snapped up from her book. A tired smile spread across her lips, which soon fell to a grimace when she saw his expression. She was about to climb out of bed, but he held up a hand to stop her. He walked to her and lay on top of the duvet. She remained in the warm cocoon of blankets, but sat up. She gingerly touched his jaw. He grimaced and laid his head on her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, yet he did not cry. He just lied there; letting Gwen comfort him.

She kissed his temple and muttered questions into his hair; questions he either dodged or ignored. He didn't want to speak, just listen to Gwen's even breathing and let it lull him to sleep. The collapsed as his body became dead weight. She ran nimble fingers through his dark locks, pushing it off his brow. She placed kisses on his forehead, and laid back on the pillows. He was more broken then the first time they were together; Courtney had left him bleeding on that night.

Duncan dreamed as he slept. Not an unusually occurrence, but it was different. He couldn't get Courtney off his mind. He dreamed of how this mess started. Courtney had stormed out, frustrated that all her pathetic attempts to make him her perfect guy, had all failed. She really didn't have to get so mad, but what she had said left him ripped open; left him gasping for air. In this dream, her words physically cut him, and she watched him bleed out onto the hardwood. Venom was in her eyes as she left, leaving the door wide open. Cold fall wind let leaves fly inside, and nest in his hair. He felt the blackness consume him, and he woke; still cradled in Gwen's arms. She was massaging his scalp, mussing up his hair. He felt a crushing pain in his chest and the air leave his lungs; he felt like he was dying like he had in his dream. Gwen looked down at him in alarm; he forced him to sit up. She placed her hand on his jaw line and had him look up at her; try as he might to hang his head. Gwen kissed him then, to give him comfort. He begged her not to leave him alone. For months now, he pushed down his feelings for this woman; convinced himself it was just for comfort. He knew it to be so much more. He loved Gwen, and he was scum for it. Scum for not realizing it sooner, and for not stopping them. Once upon a time, he had loved Courtney. He still does, in a way. He still fees overwhelming guilt for the pain he caused her. He can hear his heart break at the thought of Courtney. Gwen hugged him to her, whispering words of comfort in his ear. She kissed the bruise on his jaw, and continued to kiss his jaw line. He sighed as he gave himself over to the chills as the kissed continued.

He woke with the sun in his eyes. The springs on the bed creaked and complained as he sat up. He looked over at the woman next to him. She was lying on her stomach, her bare back lifting with each breath. Again, he did this again, only this time, he regretted it more than ever. He could have; should have gone home, try and fix things. No, he took the easy way out; again. Gwen's head turned toward him, and she smiled. All regrets left his head as he kissed her. Later; he thought; regret later.

Authors Note: I do ship Gwen and Duncan, but I do respect where Courtney/Duncan shippers come from. I used to ship that pairing! Please no rude reviews saying why this is so wrong when Duncan and Courtney belong together. That's all I ask. Now this was named "Fix You" because when I wrote it, it was inspired by Coldplays "Fix You". I had actually used lines from the lyrics to introduce each individual paragraph, but it violated FanFictions rules, so I just deleted them. Easier then dealing with FanFiction in my opinion.