The Depths of a Black Haze
by Eternally 1x2
and
Mystical 1x2

Disclaimer: We don't own GW, nor do we own "Crawling". That belongs to Linkin Park.
Warnings: Shounen ai, OOC, and Angst!

Chapter Two: Crawling

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Crawling in my skin
consuming all I feel
Fear is how I fall
confusing what is real

Duo's violet eyes slid open only to be greeted by dark clouds and rain pattering loudly against the window. He sighed and turned over to glance at the bedside clock.
'8:00 a.m. Shit. Another morning…another useless day ahead of me…Don't have to go to work…be here alone…why even bother waking up?' He sighed loudly and threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. His hair was matted and coming loose from his braid. He did nothing about it.
Instead, Duo did what he did every morning. He padded to the front of the apartment and pulled the front door open. From there, he grabbed the morning newspaper and headed to the kitchen. There, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and sat down to read the paper.
'Such a great life…' He thought sadly as he gulped the alcohol and went through the paper. He wasn't quite sure why he read the stuff printed in the periodical. Nothing inside held any interest for him. But it was something to do…it kept his mind of his mind off of his self-proclaimed sad life.
This morning, just as he figured, there wasn't anything of interest inside – until that one page…that one page the contained an article that caused his self-esteem to plunge lower than ever before. He gasped as he read the title aloud…

There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming/confusing
This lack of self-control I fear is never-ending
Controlling/I can't seem…

~~A Week Before~~
Heero picked up the phone and before he could even utter a 'hello?' an ecstatic voice spoke through the receiver. "Heero? Heero, are you there?" The excited voice asked quickly.
"Yeah, I'm here. Quatre…is that you?"
"Course it's me! I'm so excited! You'll never believe what's happened!"
"What…?" Heero asked, although he had a feeling he knew what was coming.
"Trowa asked me to marry him! Can you believe it? We're going to be married…" This was followed by a deep and dreamy sigh.
Heero smirked. Trowa had mentioned this to him not too long before. "Congratulations, Quatre. Have you told the others?"

"Not yet…I still have to tell Wufei an-and, oh, my God, I am so excited! Heero, I'm going to let you go…I have so many people to tell!"
"I'm happy for you, Quatre." Heero replied.
"Thanks, Heero!" A click was heard and then silence.
The Japanese pilot's smirk faded as his thoughts drifted toward Duo. In his excitement, Quatre had failed to mention the longhaired boy. He sighed and sank down in the nearest chair. He was happy for the couple, but at the same time he felt the strange emotion of jealousy. How he wanted to have that kind of relationship with Duo, but he was almost certain the American pilot would never return his feelings. Heero had been through hell in his life…he'd felt the pain of loneliness and deep self-loathing. He did not want to feel rejection.
From time to time, he would pick up the phone and try to dial Duo's number. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He hadn't seen his longhaired friend in a long time – not since the war ended. But on the upside, he figured, at least they would see each other at Trowa and Quatre's wedding. He smiled to himself. Maybe even sooner…he decided he would get the courage to call Duo the next week about the wedding, and not show any obvious emotion. He just had to hear the beautiful longhaired boy's voice once more.

To find myself again
my walls are closing in
(Without a sense if confidence and I'm convinced
That there's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure

'Multi-Millionaire Quatre R. Winner to Wed'

Duo read the headline over and over again as if he just couldn't quite grasp what it meant. How come nobody told him? Skimming through the article, he found it was first planned the week before – no one even attempted to tell him! Duo felt the boiling heat of anger build inside his body. He didn't know whether to scream in a fit of rage or what. Feeling the torrid anger seethe from his body, he crumpled the paper and threw it across the room.
Jumping from his chair, and knocking it over in the process, he ran to the back bathroom. He leaned on the water basin and glared in the mirror with utter spite and contempt. This was just proof – proof no one cared. He once had the impression that the other pilots were his friends…He had been fooling himself. They didn't care.
'And they certainly won't care about this…'
Duo pulled the medicine cabinet open and grabbed a razor blade. Holding out his wrist, and biting his lower lip, Duo ran the blade across his skin. He felt it as it sliced through the layers…deep into his skin. But he took no notice of the pain. He relished in the fact that he could cause this much agony and not the excruciating pain. He dropped the cold, sharp steel and watched as the red blood seeped from the fresh wound. He held his arm tightly, never taking his eyes from the crimson liquid. It flowed down the side of his arm and splattered in small drops on the white tiled floor.
The seeping blood was symbolic – it was as if all feelings of depression, loneliness, and anger drained with the blood. Duo found himself gazing at the fresh wound and the scars of older ones. The pain was so minimal…it left hideous marks on his once flawless skin, but what did it matter?
It was at that moment the phone chose to ring. Startled, Duo dropped his arm to his side, ignoring the blood seeping into his half-closed palm. The phone hadn't ringed in days. Stepping from the dim bathroom, Duo walked to the phone sitting on the bedside table. Nervously he reached for the receiver. He kept telling himself that the person on the other end would probably be a wrong number; phone calls were rare.
He pressed the receiver to his ear and uttered a quiet "Hello?"
"Hello, Duo?" The voice on the other end was one from the recent past…one he hadn't expected to ever hear again.
"Y-yes. Heero? Is that…you?" He asked, unsure of himself.
"Hn. I was just calling to ask if you've heard about Trowa and Quatre." He asked with little emotion in his voice though reveling in the fact that he was talking to the person he was strangely attached to.
Duo was disappointed. "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I saw that in the paper this morning." His voice carried on a tone of building anger.
Heero was shocked at the fact that Duo hadn't heard it from Quatre's own mouth. "The paper? Quatre didn't call you?"
Duo choked back a sorrowful sob. "No."
"Hm…that's surprising. He told me, and I know he called Wufei."
Duo couldn't help but resent what Heero had just said. "Yeah, I'm sure he just forgot about me."
The Japanese boy couldn't believe the tone in Duo's voice…it just didn't sound like him. "Duo, are you okay?"
"I'm just fine, Heero." Duo replied, oblivious to the concerned tone in which Heero spoke.
"Well, I'm sure you'll get an invitation soon. The two are going to marry as soon as possible. I'm not sure if they scheduled a date yet, but I know it'll be soon. You're going to be there…right?"
"I don't know. It doesn't sound like they want me there." Duo said bitterly.
"Wha-? What are you talking about, Duo?" Heero asked; the emotion he was trying to hide was coming out.
"Never mind. I'm sure I'll have better things to do. I've got to go…" And he hung up. He was about to cry and he didn't want Heero to hear. Not that the other pilot would care…no one cares…

Discomfort, Endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting, Reacting

Heero held the phone in shock. Hurt by the way Duo had spoken and overcome by strange, new emotions, Heero sank to the floor – unsure of what to do or how to react.

Against my will I stand beside my own reflection
It's haunting how I can't seem…

Duo lifted his arm once more and gazed at the blood now drying upon his skin. The wound ceased to produce anymore red liquid. Deeper into a dark hole he sank…hurt and confused beyond belief. He had to see the blood. He wanted to see the pain ooze from his body. Running back into the bathroom, he picked up the discarded razor. Holding back the tears, he slashed the wound open again. In a whirl of painful emotions, he watched avidly as the blood ran down his arm and splattered on the already crimson stained floor.
***
Comments? Criticism? We wanna know what you think! ~Eternally 1x2 and Mystical 1x2