A/N: Erm.. Ok, this is my first GW fanfic. I've been writing for several years now, but I've only recently gotten into the Gundam Wing fandom. I've never seen a single episode, but I've done my research, read dozens upon dozens of fics, so I think I'm ready to start writing my own fanfiction. :)

Dedication: I only own the boys at night. :P

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Duo looked around the clinic with mounting anxiety and, not for the first time since he'd arrived, wondered what in hell he was doing here in the first place. From across the small waiting room a door opened and a short man in a business suit stepped out of what was presumably an office. Seeing the door open, a blonde woman sitting next to Duo smiled politely as she reached across him to replace a magazine, its edges worn with time and age, and got up quietly to walk into the same room.

With sudden panic Duo realized that he was alone. No more patients were waiting in the small room and he knew he was next. Soon it would be him alone in that office with only a psychiatrist and his thoughts to haunt him. Dragging in a deep shaky breath, Duo lifted a trembling hand to the corner of his long sleeved shirt.

No, he thought fiercely, not again… That's what got you into this mess in the first place!

But the need – the blind, raging, panic and anxiety – could not be comforted. Duo took in another deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to overcome the need. But the craving was overwhelming. Where the hell was Heero? The boy scanned the room again and settled his gaze on the door leading out of the waiting room. He'd said he would be here… Heero promised that he wouldn't leave Duo to do this alone…

Although he thoroughly hated to admit when he needed help, hated showing his vulnerability, Duo wished that Heero was here right now. He needed Heero's help, Heero's hugs, Heero's love, Heero's kisses…

Suddenly the spinning of Duo's mind stopped, the terrifying anxiety relinquished. It took him a moment to become cognizant of the reason why: Black painted nails were digging painfully into his mutilated wrist, old wounds reopening under the pressure. The need was gone, but the loneliness and ache in his soul remained. He dug his nails a little harder into the reddening flesh in an attempt to rid himself of these other nuances – although he knew the physical pain would not be enough – and allowed a few tears to splash down his cheeks. Much in the same way the droplets of blood now splashed onto his lap, staining the denim jeans he was wearing.

Where was Heero??

The nails were now clawing viciously into his own flesh, the blood forming a river in its wake as it continued to stain the fabric of Duo's clothing, continued to stain the purity of his soul. He needed to stop, he needed someone to stop him… NOW.

Where the hell are you, Heero? the boy thought in desperation. Had he left him? Had he forgotten? Had he given up? Had he –

Suddenly warm hands grasped Duo's wrist tightly, yanking his hand away from the other and therefore stopping the mutilation. And just as suddenly, caring arms wrapped across Duo's broad chest and hugged him, held him, until the shaking and weeping of the braided boy's body stopped. He finally allowed his eyes to open slowly and he took in the sight of Heero wrapping the new wounds in the gauze he'd by now learned to carry with him.

"I'm sorry," came the pathetic whisper as Heero once again took him in his arms and kissed away the fresh array of tears.

"Shhh…"

"I don't want to do this alone." The admission was hushed, whispered in what could only be identified as shame.

"You don't. You're not alone, you never, ever will be. I'm here now, you're not alone."

Duo nodded weakly into Heero's chest as he allowed himself to be held and comforted.

Suddenly the door at the end of the waiting room opened again and the same blonde woman stepped out.

"Duo Maxwell," came an unidentified voice from inside the office.

Duo untangled himself from his lover and glanced at Heero, who silently verified that he was doing the right thing. Nodding mutely, Duo stood and felt a hand reach out to grab his, delicate fingers entangling with his own. The two men walked together into the office, hand-in-hand. And for the first time since he'd arrived nearly a half hour ago, Duo did not feel alone in his battle.

.end.