Title: 12 O'clock Shadow
Angst/Romance
Author's Note: Sorry if it's confusing. People tell me my stories are confusing…a lot…
Disclaimer: Don't own the G Boys. Don't own any of it, sucks but hey, when I become a big famous so and so I'll buy it and then!!! I WILL OWN IT!!! I'LL BUY THE COMPANY!!! MWAHAHAHA!!!
The T.V. is simple and small, black but its plastic shell has cracked at the front top right corner, it must of fell at one stage from its high stool. It was a hotel so there was probably several occasions when it could have happened, a cheap hotel as well that didn't care much for the state of the rooms. Duo dared himself to go to the "en suite" than quivered as he continued to watch the news he'd momentarily switched on.
This was just another hide away, what a joke. The fighting was better than having to sit and contemplate what he'd done. This was the only time he could ever get the time to get his head together. He knew if he didn't have these kinds of nights than all of his concentration during a battle would disintegrate and the importance of what he was fighting for would also be forgotten, it was the only way he could justify these 'breaks'…
The sickly pale cracking cream painted walls, ripped up carpet full of splinters and the stench of rotting and piss seemed to throw all gratitude out the window for a night away from fighting and the first hand visions of death. There were no windows, absolutely none, he hadn't travelled downstairs so he couldn't be in a basement. It didn't affect him, he could see how many other people would become claustrophobic in such a room. It did make him at slight unease when he first noticed the moment he had walked in, but he'd been in too many other chilling rooms for this to even be compared to the other states.
Taking a glance behind him again to the two single beds he took note of the set of drawer's in-between. Unlike Heero he didn't like to have his gun in hand when he slept and much preferred it to be closed away from himself, just in case he ever did have a nightmare and something were to happen. Who was he kidding, he had too many nightmares and he was afraid he might just wake up one morning to one other familiar position.
Stepping over to the old oak drawer, he cautiously opened the wooden handle as carefully as he could manage, in fear the wood might have rotten resulting in the drawer to fall apart. He slipped it open, more or less smoothly, to notice several empty needles. Without flinching he slammed it shut and turned to once again look over the small cramped space. This place was the worse so far. The draw surprising didn't falter as it shut back into place.
A tiny bulb hung from the middle of the ceiling. The surrounding area of the bulb hadn't been plastered and bared the wooden planks from the floor above, something he was concerned about if someone decided to walk with as little force as a minor step might take, they could end up with more splinters on the carpet.
There were two doors, one to the en suite and the other to the entrance, both sickly cream in colour, something told Duo they hadn't always been that colour. The door handles both rusting; traces of copper had been transferred on to his palm.
Turning his head to the beds again he sighed in disgust. His legs were aching and there was no where he could possibly sit without being in place of something horrifically unknown attacking his own hygiene. The sheets had been flung to the end of each bed. On the left there were stains of blood around about where he would expect the average person's hips to lay, shivering he turned back his vision.
Repulsed by the flooding thoughts he made his short pace towards the en suite where he opened the door with hesitation. The first thing that hit him before he could reach inside and find what side of the door the light switch was the unbearable stench of something his body had to immediately react to. Flexed back and kicking the door closed with his right foot he threw up to his right all over the carpet, gripping the end of the bed closest to him.
Shaking his head he clutched his eyes shut and tried as hard as he could to block out the disgusting smell. Opening his eyes to realise the mess he had also added to this lovely hotel room, he took a step back, spitting the rest of the bile that was burning in his mouth. Heero was coming up in a short while, this wasn't good. He could just lie and say it was like that when he got here…but Heero may just do the same thing when he opened the en suite door.
All comical thought vanished as darkness dawned on his vision. Feeling the bits of insoluble food mixed with the acidic fluid catching at the back of his throat. Almost gagging again he was hit by a sudden flash of bloody memories. His body became numb and cold all over.
Shaking his head and taking several steps back he bumped purposely into the wall, feeling tears stinging the raw pink rims of his eyes. All the frustration and fear whelming in them, he couldn't release this tension. He was a soldier and wouldn't allow it. He pulled himself forward from the wall and gripped his temples tightly between clenched fists…
"Get a grip Duo…you're stronger then this." He muttered to himself.
"How hollow does that feel now? How many times over will you say that and feel inside it's not true. You can't lie to me, I can see right through you…" Whispered a demon he continued to push away.
Duo's breathing picked up as the panic rose through him, the one thing that could cut him up. Make him irrational, 'it'…
"Shut up!" Duo yelled and turned away facing yet another wall. "You don't know me!"
"But I am you, I am you." It teased back, lingering in his ear. It's breath on his neck, it's hands caressing his body slowly from his legs through to his torso and finally his neck.
Feeling paralysed Duo gasped and spluttered in one spot as 'it' smoothed him all over with a cold cruel touch. It's body pressing up against his so strongly. Duo's eyes wide, the lack of oxygen or the overdose of the element causing faintness. His limbs feeling limper every pulse his heart pounded, the sucking effect of 'It's' words took on him.
Within mere moments 'It' had almost won and there was nothing that Duo could do to stop the insecurity seeping through, he couldn't control anything as soon as 'It' whispered to him what was true, or what 'It' told him was truth. Somehow the continuous reassurance talk to himself attempt had faded and the hollowness that was swirling in his guts grew more deeply every time he said something that fit the description of 'reassurance talk to himself attempt'.
"P-please…" He sobbed, clutching his eyes closed and tensing every muscle in his body to react to what he demanded and not to what 'It' demanded him to do.
"You don't want them to see but they do. They see right through you. Heero sees straight through you…but doesn't care." 'It' hissed.
"He's a soldier!" Was all Duo had in reply. His mind was blank, the voices were silent and just as obedient to this voice as a dog was to his cruel master.
A sudden click of the handle and the rustling painful sound of it turned from the outside. A tear stricken Duo shocked and still quite breathless turned immediately to the sound, and in a second 'It' was gone. His long chestnut braid swinging through the air in his abrupt turn, it swung and hung over his shoulder as he collected back his steady happy-go-lucky exterior.
Years of training had only just made it possible for Duo to calm himself in that instant and the tears were quickly wiped away but remembering the sick on the floor alerting him some more, and so came back Duo Maxwell. He gave a playful smirk turning his head to it than the en suite door and back to the main entrance. Heero slid inside to look the cocky boy over without a smile or a mirrored smirk. Nor a wave or a greeting, not even a grunt which was quite common for the perfect solider to do when meeting with someone familiar…
Heero took one glance over the room and had instantly taken in everything, probably even the near perfect measurements of the place. Duo saw Heero take a little longer looking at the sick on the carpet a little behind Duo than raised an eye brow…
"Dude!" Duo cried out in innocence, his voice almost cracking from the lump in his throat and the inside desperation for help. Duo refused it though. "Smell the supposed en suite and you'd do the same! This place sucks!"
Raising his arms to his hips as if feeling undignified and yet still with the childish belief present in his posture that he really didn't believe he was in trouble for anything he could have done. Another hollow day in his life…this was becoming just too hard….
Eventually Duo had complained so much that they'd had to change hotels and they'd ended up in something a little more elegant compared to the last one. One that wasn't brilliant and to most people quite disgusting but something Duo could manage to sleep in.
The walls were all freshly painted white and with a plastered pale ceiling, a window with its damp oak frames rotting away. Clean beds, just made. Sure they weren't lavender scented but at least they'd been washed in the last decade! The carpet a pale peach and the doors a perfect white. Clean silver handles that only made a sound from the devices inside.
Duo had also managed to make his way into the en suite and not gag. White tiles lined every wall, part of the floor and ceiling. The shower didn't have any boundaries and the water could wash all over the floor and eventually would flow into the corners where there were filters (or what looked like filters any way). A cracked mirror lay on the right side of the room. The toilet was separated to a little room next to the shower room also.
Duo was in a lot of trouble with Heero now. All the preparation the perfect soldier had put into finding and scouting the area out of the old hotel had gone to waste. Duo had continued to revisit his missing happy childhood and be immature. Eventually they'd moved but now Heero was working away at his laptop on his own single bed searching out the area for any possible dangers or places they should be alert of.
Duo had decided to take a shower. The constant apologies had tired him out and he hadn't had the pleasure of a shower for at least two weeks. He needed time to think any way, something told him that 'It' had done 'It's' work for one day. Today only presented some of the mild moments, the affects it had on him. Maybe 'It' didn't feel like drilling into his skull today. Duo knew it wasn't because 'It' had weakened in any sense, it just meant when he came back it was going to be one of the most painful experiences. 'It' was saving all of 'It's' coldness for one occasion when 'It' knew 'It' could push Duo to the very edge.
He turned to lock the door, his eyes tracing with a gleam as his hand stretched to twist the privacy on. Turned the metal and the gleam disappeared. There were no presences with him any more, he was by himself. 'It' could attack him any time it wished to. Duo got the feeling that 'It' would stay away for the rest of the day, not because it had weakened in any sort of way. No, that was not the case at all.
It crept around him with every step Duo took, every word he ever spoke. But it would only be watching and would only whisper to him when it saw fit to destroy a little piece of the braided teenager. 'It'd' done 'It's' part today. But he was always lurking, and watching for the opportunity, Duo knew that, could feel it.
Watching in wonder as he pulled back his hand, or what he thought was his hand, or subconsciously recognised. Suddenly his exterior fell; the happy-go-lucky personality disintegrated and was replaced with a lost boy.
His eyes suddenly full of sadness, no one could see them. There was no one to act for now in this room, there was no one to encourage, inspire, no body. He wouldn't get a chance to concentrate on recollecting the past couple of weeks, he needed to push all the death out of his system so he could continue to do what he believed many years ago to be justice. This was going to be one of the weekends when ever the minor visits from 'It' would send him to his knees. He couldn't remember the last time 'It' had laid down out of Duo's way for more than a few days.
Looking round he almost snarled. 'It' was watching him ever so slyly with that wicked grin, breathing out his poison. It had all started years ago, when he was a new teen. Sure, back then 'It' had been nothing but just another voice in his head, mistaken for something that he should occasionally listen to.
Every time he listened to 'That' voice 'It' became more and more inflictive with 'It's' words until Duo realised 'It' wasn't just a voice in his head. The faceless monster in his nightmares was something other than just a figure symbolising in his dreams. That 'It' wasn't in his head, 'It' was whispering to his subconscious and soul. The only thing that was inside which helped him now was his instinct, but even lately he'd been slow at reading that or too low to care to take notice.
Slowly it was hacking away at him and he wasn't even sure if the person he himself was even…him. Maybe he was just a poor soul trapped in someone's body, unfortunately having to witness the deadly wrath of psychiatric problems. He often did question his sanity and funnily enough always denied the idea of him being mad. But he also realised that even if he was he'd never actually embrace the fact only resulting in him fearing for his friends on the battlefield…and off. What if he completely lost it like 'It' wanted him to, he knew that for sure.
Snapping himself out of the close trace he turned towards where the shower was and began slipping his shirt from over his head, throwing it to a side roughly where it landed in a creased heap. Catching his reflection in the mirror before he got even half way through the room he paused to watch himself.
Turning round to face it completely he brought his hand up onto his torso and pressed hard into the muscle.
He flinched, all the muscles tensed but his facial features remained the same. The vacant stare remaining as he watched his face. He wasn't emotionless; he'd proved that in the old hotel. He could still feel, otherwise he wouldn't know that there was a huge gaping hole inside of him that was letting free of all the sorrow, fear and utter pain. Some moments he wouldn't feel, all there would be is numbness but there were only a few nights when that would happen.
Yet he still questioned whether he could feel anything physical, his nerves sent the message to his brain that it hurt, that it was damaging him, his muscles tensed at the repeated motion into his torso. But his soul and mind didn't flinch, didn't scream, didn't whimper, didn't question. They were blank. Had 'It' frozen those two things? The times he did feel counted to few. Bringing a knife to his body could make him feel, as well as Heero's touch…but these were the only things that could possibly make him release anything he felt, let alone realise it.
Duo wasn't weak, or at least he never used to be. During his early years of training he'd become numb inside as some distant voice inside cried to be set free. Until a questionably great day at a school 'they'd' transferred him to he'd found a blade. Being on a screwed up colony meant he could have any blade he so desired, being a street kid and all, but this one blade, only a few years back, caught his attention.
(Flashback)
Duo scribbled a couple of lines in his art book, he knew deep down he couldn't draw so he wouldn't bother trying. It was a free drawing of environments today so all the class had spread out. He however had decided to sulk in the back art store room and draw the shelves of art books and the cupboards, he and a close friend hadn't agreed on one thing or another and he was sick of having to say sorry. And he needed space any how.
He tilted his head slowly to the side watching out the window, the messy store room wasn't the easiest thing to draw. And his art teacher had told him he might be better off taking a ruler with him as there would be a lot of shelves and containers and boxes and basically a lot of things that were square or rectangular. No! Duo hadn't bothered to listen though.
It was quite a cramped space, with shelves lining all around the top of the walls, and pale wooden draws and cupboards were everywhere in no order or pattern or particular official resting place. The window frames had been painted a tacky sort of red that Duo seemed to like despite a designers disgrace.
The walls were covered in students' art pieces, framed and first hand on the wall itself. Making the room a collection of different shades and colours, creating somewhat of an alert atmosphere as a lot of the colours were Florissant, yet it didn't change Duo's filthy mood.
He was thinking over Solo's death and the blame he took, and remembered back to how he held Sister Helen's limp body, which he also blamed himself for deep down. This was a bad day for memories to be flooding back but he suddenly couldn't help it. The times when he felt so angry and hurt, so guilty and so very lost. The things he needed to embrace and release and yet continued to fight them.
He turned his head to his board resting on his knee with the white sheet of paper laid, couple of lines had been marked across the sheet. If thought about, the lines could be recognised as a shelf. A sudden light hit the corner of his eye, not blinding but something had reflected the sun into his vision. Looking up he noticed a craft knife laid on one of the red windowsills.
He became interested with the object and recognised it straight away but why was it laid out just any where, if one of the juniors had come in and found it there could be trouble. Standing from his plastic blue chair he put the board with the paper on his chair, the pencil resting behind his ear.
Stepping towards it he took in more details, its body had been deliberately designed for pressure on the top where the blunt side of the blade turned. The handle was red, the blade fresh with just pure silver shimmering across. Reaching out to grip it he sensibly took hold on its body and not the blade. Somehow he felt drawn to it, wondering about its sharpness he pushed the blade to his thumb and instantly reacted…
"Damn…" He moaned as it stung into his skin straight away.
Pulling the blade away just as quickly as it had entered his skin, he watched the blood tickle down on to his palm and glisten in its mysterious beauty. More blood slipping than he could have imagined from such a small cut. Slightly shocked but in awe none the less he turned to look at the blade again to see traces of his own blood bobble at points along the sharpened side.
The pain it gave him suddenly released just a little of the tension, a little of the frustration. His eyes glazed over with tears as the next thought entered his mind, is it a cure? In a fury he pulled the knife to his forearm, after ripping up his blouses sleeve and ripping away at his own flesh time and time again until he cried out in utter agony.
(Present)
That day he'd released so much and he'd always questioned whether the method was the right way. He'd often go into the store room and find several knives to use, few he kept, and a lot were thrown away. Something about a craft knife seemed so much more appealing than a dagger or short sword or anything else he could pick up being a parentless child, the availability to go and find whatever or steal anything, he knew the places to find weapons. This was his angst and his own way of dealing with it, or so it used to be.
The problem was that when he wasn't feeling frustrated a voice in his head continued to pound out the words that it was his fault that so many people were dying, it wasn't his fault back then. Anything he did would never be good enough and he always needed to be punished, even if he showed a sad smile to someone, it could drag them down, he needed punishment. So then there were two reasons to slash at himself, until the third came…a kind of discipline he gave himself.
The way he'd see people teach quickly was through pain so he'd picked it up that he needed to do the same; he hurt himself so he could learn to control himself during hurt. He had created a crazy idea in his head that this could make him stronger and in some twisted sense it was correct, but not the kind of strength he wished to possess.
Those three things ruled him for a long time. He had to give up slashing his forearm and moved up to his upper arm so no one could see it. That had happened one occasion when he'd been getting changed, he'd forgotten about it and was so confused when he saw the fading great expressions of his friends as they catch a glance at the scars and the rest of the fresh cuts. But yet again he had to change his place because people still spotted them. So he began to slash on both sides of his ribs, the ones that healed the quickest. Until it became summer and a girl harassed him about taking his top off. Than he had no choice but to slit under his torso, very low under his torso, just above the things a boy has.
Watching himself in the mirror he questioned whether the method of cutting himself ever did work, and every time he didn't cut himself battles became harder, emotions were freed too easily. He'd panic too often. There was always some voice in him screaming how useless he'd become, the knife was a sort of way in which he could control himself and teach himself. His body, his demon had always wanted that. Some way of shutting him up. Some kind of need inside him had made him become the happy-go-lucky person he was today. All he ever wanted to do was help, be a better person. At some point the innocent desire had twisted into something so bitter and angry and created or called the demon that walked with him now. Some days Duo wished that he could just go back to the knives, that way this demon would disappear again. He found slitting himself so much easier to deal with and keep control of himself than his 12 O'clock Shadow.
All because he'd told Heero about the scars, they'd ended up throwing the blades away together. Those blades he used were the same ones as the ones he'd been using since school. They represented the methods, the punishment and the 'release'. But now they were lying at the bottom of a river millions of miles from here on Earth.
Duo shuddered for a moment and clutched his eyes. This was damaging, he remembered a time not so long ago when he'd purposely damaged himself with an iron while staying over with Hilde one night. Bitter at himself, he swallowed hard and turned so that when he opened his eyes he wouldn't be able to watch his pitiful reflection.
He stripped off completely kicking all of his ebony garments to the furthest side of the room away from the shower in hope that it would keep them mildly dry. Duo flipped round the circular hand through to red hot, his hand traced his bottom spine bone to grip on his braid. Not yet under the shower head Duo continued to reach for the braids end. Untying the bobble from his hair he untwisted the three even layers out and stepped into the shower.
Sighing deeply he felt his hairs loosen and the steam rise against his muscular body. Taking another breath before he stepped inside Duo closed his eyes once again then went forward.
The streaming water hit his tense body hard, refreshing him instantly. His hands rubbing over his torso through to his under arm and all over his body, gripping for the soap next he continued to clean himself. All thought draining away with the water as if slipping down his slender body.
Yes, Heero knew about what Duo's past was like yet he refused to invite Heero to also visit with him 'It'. He couldn't tell Heero just what 'It' did, he'd think he was crazy, unfit to pilot. Heero thought that way and Duo understood and accepted it, this just meant he had to be very careful with telling Heero and hiding emotion. Although it was very difficult to fool the perfect solider.
Duo raised his head towards the power of the splashing water, the heat making his breathing increase. His hair heavy as it absorbed more water, Duo's head position letting the trickling water travel down to his neck and spine. This relaxed Duo some more, he wished he could just take this kind of a shower every day.
Turning away and grabbing his damp strands to pull over his shoulder, he breathed hard for a moment to collect what he probably should have been thinking about. His eyes still vacant, his self hatred growing ever more steadily. Gulping and rubbing the excess water away from his newly opened eyes Duo took in how misty the room had become.
He had to become just a normal inside, or as normal inside as a gundam pilot could possibly get. This was all driving him crazy, maybe he was crazy. That frightened him further, this had gone on for too many years and 'It' was binding him to the very person he would rather die than be. He shook his head as the strong transparent liquid hit into his back…
"No more…" He murmured softly but sternly.
This was spontaneous, even for Duo. He'd had enough of 'It' when 'It' had first began to hack away at Duo's heart. He was past the need for 'It' to stop, there had been too many times when he'd tried to stop 'It'. All resulting unsuccessful. Duo had to fight this though. It wasn't just the person he was becoming that he hated…it was Heero…
'It' wouldn't let Duo touch him, barely kiss him. The panic of the human contact created by his subconscious was too powerful for him to control, all because 'It' had been whispering 'Warnings'. Warnings Duo knew weren't real but just its only defence against Duo engaging in intimacy, the one thing Duo believed could completely and truly kill 'It'.
There were moments when they were so close, moments Duo knew didn't just come every day. Inside he'd been screaming for his body to move closer, screaming to release the strange confusing truth of "I love you.". Yet 'It' had frozen him, 'It' could not allow Duo to do such a move, such words, such emotions. 'It' stayed alive through Duo's sorrow and agony, his hurt. Heero could make all those things go away in an instant.
Duo was tired of having to hear it whisper horrible untruth of his inability to love, to touch. He had been so convinced a while ago that he did care for no one but could only act like he did engage in the feeling. 'It' had convinced him of it, but he realised it wasn't true. Through close encounters with death and unfortunate departures. Through fresh tears of sorrow, of longing. Not through tears of fear and manipulation. The two sets were very different, Duo had felt the differences and luckily was able to make them out and realise just what he felt.
Yet he was still unable to release it through speech and motions. 'It' was the reason, there was some kind of strength that buried in him that began to burn. Standing straight he smiled oddly and made his way out of the shower, preparing himself for the evening and more constant apologising.
"So then Heero my man..." Duo eyed the solitude boy on his separate bed.
The braided teen waited for a reply. Moments passed by as the braided boy watched as Heero typed impossibly quick at his keyboard. Not giving himself a break he questioned in response…
"Yes?" His eyes scanning over the sheets being processed by his futurist programmes.
"I feel like…" Duo hesitated for a moment, a flash of panic and a painful grip on his head. Taking in a deep breath he took a step forward looking determined. "…chilling out…"
"Duo, you do that every time we have to hide in safe areas for short periods of time." Heero's monotone still managed to impress the aggravation and impatience in his sentence.
"Yeah well…any way…" Duo levelled himself as the tension slowed and he clicked back to just an aftermath of the panic, racing heart. "You finished?" This time his words were pleading and this wasn't always recognised in Duo voice, not true pleads. Heero picked this up straight away.
Nearly quirking an eye brow Heero raised an eye to Duo and continued to type without the concentration of his physical focus for a short moment, until his digits came to a sudden stop. Clicking 'Enter' he turned his head to Duo watching the 'accidental' seriousness painted across Duo's face.
"Yes." Heero being as simplistic in his reply as possible, just as commonly.
In this moment Duo had planned instantly to take a strong step forward, grip Heero's face and kiss him, rid himself of the power of what 'It' possessed, create the intimacy he'd always desired for the two boys to warm in, lust in, love in. Give Duo some sense of security with friendship, however screwed up his past had made had made him, Heero could fix that side of him. But before he could even get close to curing that side, he had to kill the barrier. He understood this, but in this short while of bravery, almost spontaneously creating some kind of true rebellion, could he really shatter this spell?
Frowning deeper, sweating and viscously nervous, Duo took that strong step forward and reached out to cup Heero's face. Fingers caressed the perfects soldiers tanned soft skin, lips pouted as an automated longing. Heero shut his eyes and accepted this sudden affectionate act and waited for the stroke of Duo's warm thin lips against his.
An affection shattered, the panic struck through his whole entire being. And the stabbing pain choked through his heart making Duo gasp, falling backwards, almost hurting Heero by the pressure applied to his face in a sudden terror to escape the intimate gesture. Falling on to the bed opposite Heero, Duo realised the darkness that was gripping his heart and tried to focus on the act that the panic was created by his own subconscious. He hadn't felt this alive for a very long time, but he didn't feel alive for the fantastic qualities that should overtake a boy who felt that kind of true need for the physical comfort of someone he loved. Fear and hideous control, trying to stand over the line has just made things a hell of a lot more…worse…?
Breathing quickly Duo looked up to Heero's eyes who were looking just as questionable as the perfect soldier could ever stretch to impress…
"I'm sorry." Almost teary, violet eyed boy stuttered over and over. "Heero, I can't help you, you have to understand, I-I-I"
Heero continued to watch how the hysteria grew over the boy laid in front of him, his eyes snaking every where but his face. Unsure how to deal with this situation Heero leant forward to carry himself up into a standing position…
"Duo…what's going on?"
To Be Continued…
Author's Note: First attempt at an angst but I've read so many delicious angst's fic's and I suppose I admired them soooo much that I just had to try. Please R R, flames are welcome, (hey it's a review I suppose!). Thanks to anyone who watched this, and of course, GW rocks.
