Scars

by Kimiki

What happens if all that you've worked for is suddenly washed down the drain? Duo is asking himself this question as he realizes that Heero is turning back into the cold soldier that he was at the very beginning of the war, while also ignoring Duo's scars

Author's Ramble: Was angry at a male when I wrote this, so that is why I threw in the poem in every other thing after a song lyric. Most of the stanzas are about my relationship with him, but I did put a more romantic spin on it at times for the fic. But the general feeling is what I was experiencing… (still pissed at the to remained unnamed male) (Poem in Bold, lyrics in italics)

Disclaimer: If you are underage, please do not read this fic. Even I was grossed out by it when I was writing it. (I cannot stand this way of self mutilation… (shudders)) So, if you are underage, go read a fic about puppy dogs and kittens or whatever, and wait for however many years until you are old enough to read this fic, and then come back.

I do not own Gundam Wing or Papa Roach in any way, shape or form. (Inserted song lyrics are from the song 'Scars' by Papa Roach) (I also do not own the line from the song 'I Miss You' (by Blink 182) that I throw in at the near end. Kudos to anybody who recognizes it!)

Warning(s): SELF MUTILATION! SUCH AS, KNIFES, AND CUTTING ONES WRISTS! Was in a strange mood when I wrote (read the author's ramble above for more info on that), so that is why this fic is so different.

Rating: R

SCARS

All the things that he says to me, angers me.

why is this?

he doesn't mean for it to come off that way.

Yet it does.

All the things he does.

All the things he says.

And all the things he doesn't say.

definitely that last one…

I can never be good enough for him, can I?

I can never become what he wants, can I?

why do I even bother?

Why do I even bother trying to heal?

There is no point…

Because he will tear me up whenever I dare to look into his eyes.

(o)(O)(o)

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut

My weakness is that I care too much

And my scars remind me that the past is real

I tear my heart open just to feel

(o)(O)(o)

"Duo, I need that mission report." he tells me through the door, the wooden piece blocking him from my room.

"Gotcha Heero." I say, glancing up from my bed and directing my words to him, eyes focused on the door even though he would never know that.

Making a sound of agreement, he walks away, his footfalls slowly fading into silence. Sighing, I look at the laptop that was before me, the black screen staring back at me.

"How can I continue to do this?" I moan to myself as I hold my wrists over the towel, careful to not get any of the falling blood onto my clothes or onto any of the bed linens.

I can't ever leave any evidence.

'Which do you mean?' my conscience asks me, small voice ringing in my head. 'The cutting, the missions, or Heero?'

"Whichever rears its ugly head first…" I whisper, eyes slipping closed as I allow the knife to rest on the towel, my unharmed hand holding my cut and shredded wrist gently, keeping it upward as the blood ran down my arm to my elbows, falling in slow, fat droplets onto the dark green towel.

(o)(O)(o)

Drunk and I'm feeling down

And I just wanna be alone

I'm pissed cause you came around

Why don't you just go home

Cause you channel all your pain

And I can't help you fix yourself

You're making me insane

All I can say is

(o)(O)(o)

when I speak with him,

I feel so small.

His voice, it becomes so loud

Ripping at me

Tearing at me

How else am I supposed to retaliate?

I am so much weaker than he

and I can never match his will power.

The best way to fight,

is to harm him without him ever realizing it

(Until it is to late)

the best way to fight,

is to harm myself.

(o)(O)(o)

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut

My weakness is that I care too much

And the scars remind us that the past is real

I tear my heart open just to feel

(o)(O)(o)

I remember when we used to smile at each other. I remember when Heero would look at me without thinking about a mission.

I remember how we used to joke and laugh.

How we used to cuddle and kiss.

How we used to make love.

he was everything to me, and I thought that I was everything to him.

I guess that I was wrong.

What did I do to turn him against me?

I may never know, because he suddenly turned back into his old mechanical self after a mission that I had not accompanied with him. he had returned, small emotions gone, hidden under his thick skin, eyes cold when I smiled at him.

I tried to help him again.

god, I tried so hard.

but, he wouldn't let me.

he wouldn't let me hug him, pat him on the shoulder even.

He acted as if I had the plague.

Now, I am lucky if he comes within two feet of me.

even on a mission.

how ironic is that? he used to love having sex with me, and now he can't even stand being an arms distance near me.

Shinigami has all the luck…

All the luck in the world…

(o)(O)(o)

I tried to help you once

Against my own advise

I saw you going down

But you never realized

That you're drowning in the water

So I offered you my hand

Compassion's in my nature

Tonight is our last stand

(o)(O)(o)

I cower in the dark,

shadows are my only friend.

how can I get this to start?

how did it end?

I wanted to be your everything,

and that was all that you wanted (at one time).

what happened?

What was lost?

Was it me?

or you?

or some interloper?

(if it was, I'll kill 'em)

This is all so confusing to me…

Can't we start over?

Can't you take back those words?

And I can continue smiling.

Please…

Can't we?

(o)(O)(o)

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut

My weakness is that I care too much

And the scars remind us that the past is real

I tear my heart open just to feel

(o)(O)(o)

lowering my head, I don't try to hold back the tears as they fall, the salty water falling onto my upraised palm and trickling down my skin to mix with the slow flow of blood. Braid falling over my right shoulder, I watch as the three thick separations weave in and out of each other, eventually being tied off and no longer allowing me to see which hair was part of which separation.

Everything molded together.

they were separated from the same hair, and were woven in and out of each other, joining, but still apart, until they reached the thin hair band, where they were all mixed together again.

was there some deeper meaning here?

…Probably not.

'Duo, you're losing it.' my conscience tell me, voice sounding oddly like Quatre's at the moment. 'Trying to find the meaning to all life's mysteries by looking at your hair.'

"I'm not trying to find the meaning to the mysteries of life through my hair." I whisper, not caring that I was talking to the voice in my head.

'You're right.' the Quatre conscience tells me, sounding comforting and sarcastic at the same time. 'You're trying to find the meaning as to why Heero won't look at you anymore by studying your hair. The two are -vastly- different.'

"Not to me…" I whisper as I drop my bleeding wrist onto one of my towel covered knees. Picking up the knife, I look over the bright metal, watching as the wet blood sluggishly glides over it.

"Not to me…"

(o)(O)(o)

I'm drunk and I'm feeling down

And I just wanna be alone

You shouldn't ever came around

Why don't you just go home?

Cause you're drowning in the water

And I tried to grab your hand

And I left my heart open

But you didn't understand

But you didn't understand

Go fix yourself

(o)(O)(o)

When he looks at me

What does he see?

Does he see me for what I truly am?

or for what he believes me to be?

Does he see me as being strong

or weak?

Tall

or small?

Patient

or angry?

Which of these are my true self

and which are what he sees?

Even I do not know

the answer to that

(I wish I did)

(How I wish I did…)

(o)(O)(o)

I can't help you fix yourself

But at least I can say I tried

I'm sorry but I gotta move on with my own life

I can't help you fix yourself

But at least I can say I tried

I'm sorry but I gotta move on with my own life

(o)(O)(o)

Crying silently, I hold the knife over my arms, watching as the blood drips off the tip to join with the fresh blood that was still flowing from my slashes. Blinking, I find that I am never ceased to be amazed at how white my skin looks once it has blood over it, making the flesh seem as if it is transparent and glowing. Poising the tip of the knife, I trace shallowly along the trail of blood that was seeping from my crying flesh, making the red river to well up and surge with a new life, flowing at a much faster pace.

I only blink, enthralled as my own life begins to drain from my arm.

Blood was such a simple thing really, when you got down to it, yet it is what makes all living things run. Without it, we die. We literally dry up.

grasping the knife tighter in my hands, I force the blade deep into my skin, dragging and pulling at the shallow scratch until I had reached the large vein at the inside of my elbow. Holding my breath, I cut across it, watching as the blue turned to red and the blood spilled from my body.

I wonder if he will miss me…

"Probably not…" I whisper as I bring the knife to my throat, tilting my head up so my skin was as taunt as could be.

'He will.' my conscience tells me as I force my hand to pull the knife over my neck, opening the skin and allowing my blood to spill down my shirt and onto the bed. Falling on my back, I close my eyes, allowing the knife to drop from my quickly numbing hand, only one thought coming to mind as it left my lips.

"The angel from my nightmare…"

(o)(O)(o)

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut

My weakness is that I care too much

And the scars remind us that the past is real

I tear my heart open just to feel

(o)(O)(o)

and now,

all alone,

I leave him

So he can finally be free.

He can find someone who can be all he wants.

Who can be all he needs.

I know I cannot do what he desires.

I cannot allow him to stay cold and cruel.

(If I could, I would save him)

I would try to change him

so, I have to take my leave

And see if he realizes that he did this to me

(I miss him…)

He drove me to this…

(How I miss him…)

By ignoring my scars.

(o)(O)(o)

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut

My weakness is that I care too much

And the scars remind us that the past is real

I tear my heart open just to feel

(x)(X)(x)

Yeah, I know that it's different... But, I warned you, so you can't blame me! (shudders) But I still don't know why I wrote about him doing... That... (shudders again, clasping wrists tightly)