Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing
Author's note: I don't love GW, but love reading Duo angst. He makes perfect tragedy. Just realised how it sounds like he's masturbating in the beginning, haha. More early-hour crap-spewing... Please bear with me.
Trying to Help
I hate it. Hate you.
Putting me through this. It's unfair. Do you think I can't see you?
Violet eyes bright. Gleaming even.
Asshole.
You know I know. We room together. How can I not? I can smell it. Go on, hide it. Mop it up. Pull your clothes back down. Turn over and go back to sleep.
Asshole.
Sling your arm over me in the morning sunshine, let's pretend it never happened, yes?
No.
Let me help? You laugh. C'mon, play the clown for us. Oops, hey, your mask is cracking, right up there.
Don't mind, you say. Glue it back with blood and knives and flowering bruises.
...
You make me scared. Walk in one night, and find your violet eyes dull. Smell that smell. I can't even pretend anymore.
You panic. Try to gather everything up. Want to lick the floor clean?
Asshole.
I sit, watch you try to explain everything to me. Your pretty face oh-so- pale, is it the blood loss or my finding out?
It isn't what you think, an accident, an experiment, on drugs, intoxicated, I'm not crazy, just confused, it's temporary, I won't do it again, hey, Heero, hey, are you listening to me? Your mouth moves and moves and you giggle, try to stand up. What was I thinking, huh, Heero, 'course it wouldn't matter, not to you, not to me, yes, no, forget it right? You're not listening even, and I'm still talking and maybe... I should just go now. You stumble out, still trailing red and I want to scream.
I want to save you.
I kneel in a puddle of blood, right next to your forgotten razor and it gleams in the light. Can't help myself, pick it up and admire the lethal sharpness and suddenly it's against my skin, right arm holding to my left. My teeth grit and I wonder if this is what you feel like every night then I push.
...
What? It hurts. The skin isn't even broken yet, but it hurts. Drop the razor and crash down into the puddle of your blood. Why? Why? Whywhywhywhywhy?
Wait for you to come back from the inky darkness but you don't.
Asshole.
Sling your shredded arm over Quatre the next morning, let's still pretend it never happened, yes?
Let me help? Please? My eyes are begging yours but you... are cold.
And it still goes on. Night after night. Scar after scar. Tear after tear.
I can still smell it. Still want to help. Afraid that one day you will fade away. But you push me away, roll over and go back to sleep.
...
I really, really hate you.
-end
Heero can be such an idiot. Sigh.