--

Heero could hear Quatre shout as he went up the stairs. Trowa? He was going to see Trowa? Heero almost didn't want to continue his walk up the stairs to see Duo, but instead he wanted to go with Quatre to see Trowa. Quatre always went to see Trowa. They actually were best friends. Unlike me, Quatre actually had friends, he thought.

"Hey there, Heero." Hey there. It reminded him of that girl.

"Hn."

Duo was sitting in his room, actually reading a book quietly. "How did it go?"

"How did what go?" Heero knew what he meant, but wanted to dance around the subject as much as possible. He really didn't want to discuss it again. As if he had really discussed it that much with Quatre, he scoffed at himself.

"The doctor."

He called it a doctor... it was a better name. Duo was "softening the blow" he guessed. "Fine."

"That's all? Did Quatre talk you into going again?"

"It was fine, and yes, that's all." Heero began to walk out of the room, planning on going back to his own. "And he didn't need to talk me into going again. I'm doing it on my own."

--

"Hey Quatre!" Catherine greeted Quatre happily. "You here for Trowa?"

"Hello! Yes, I am. Do you know where he is?"

"You might want to check the trailer."

"Thank you, Catherine. See you later!"

"Take care, Quatre."

Quatre walked over to the trailer, knocking on the door.

"Come in."

He slowly walked in, looking around for the tall ex-Heavy Arms pilot. "Hi, Trowa."

Trowa was sitting across the room a table, writing in a notebook. He quickly finished writing something and then shut it. "Hello, Quatre. What happened with Heero?"

Quatre smiled. That was the first thing he was hoping Trowa would ask. He was surprised... that Trowa hadn't accepted his invitation to live with all of them in the house, especially since he seemed to enjoy the wing pilot's company so much. Being as close to Trowa as he was, he could tell. But, Trowa never seemed to hint at it to anyone else, or even tell anyone that he was feeling anything. He seemed almost as bad as Heero. He was certainly the slowest healing, aside from Heero, that is.

"All he would tell me was that it was fine."

"Oh." Trowa wasn't sure if that was good or not, especially coming from Heero.

"But there's one good thing."

"What?"

"He actually agreed to going again, so it can't be that bad."

Trowa smiled gently. Quatre couldn't help but be a little shocked when he did. But, that was one of the first things Trowa had taught himself to do, smile. Quatre wondered if he had simply learned that to just cover up the other things he wasn't fixing. He wondered if maybe he should have considered the same thing for Trowa as he had for Heero. He could use it too.

"Quatre, will you stop worrying?"

"Hm?" Quatre laughed gently. Trowa could see right through him. "I will."

--

It had gotten dark, and all of the boys were finally home. Unlike the rest of them, Wu Fei hadn't ask that many questions, and Heero was sure that he wasn't going to anymore. He would find out all he needed to know from Quatre later. Wu Fei just hated pestering Heero, and he was thankful for that, in a way. Or, as thankful as he could be.

After going through twenty-question with Duo, Heero quickly locked himself in his room. He wasn't hungry, and wouldn't be probably until late tomorrow. Maybe he should just starve himself to death, since they wouldn't let him self detonate anymore. He sighed.

He opened the drawer to his desk, looking through it idly. His fingers suddenly grazed something cold, and he pushed some papers away, trying to see what is in there. Wedged in the back of the drawer was a small, shiny razorblade. He stared at it quietly, turning it over and over in his fingers. His thoughts ran back to the girl, Winter, and her scars. Was this what she did?

Without thinking, Heero placed the razor against his skin, just holding it there for a moment. He was contemplating it... contemplating what in God's name he was doing. But this was what he wanted, wasn't it? I mean, he felt the same way as she did... hating himself, not knowing for sure whether he was really here or not. He didn't feel at all... and he knew it. Maybe... this might help.

He dragged it slowly across his forearm. There was a little sting, but nothing more than that. It was hardly anything as far as pain went. He had felt much, much worse. He watched as small dots of blood appeared on the small red line. A smile pierced his lips... for once he actually enjoyed seeing himself bleed. But still... he hadn't hurt, not like he had thought she had described it. He put the razor there again, on the same place, and pushed harder, dragging it again.

The blood started to spill a little more easily. He did it again, and again, until it seemed deep enough to him. "This could probably use some stitches," he muttered, but he really didn't care. He took out the bandages from the same drawer, gently wrapping the white linen around the huge gash in his arm. It soaked through a couple of times, making him rewrap it, but he didn't care. It was blood. He was alive.

The razor was placed in his pocket now. He'd always keep it with him, he thought. Always.

--

"I thought you said you weren't coming back?"

Heero sat down on the bench, watching as Winter finished her cigarette. "Hn."

"Aren't you going to be late for your meeting?"

"It's in an half an hour."

"So you actually bothered to come early to talk to me?" She smirked. "Apparently you don't hate me as much as I thought you did."

"Hn."

"What's with the bandage?" Before Heero could answer, he watched as Winter put the cigarette out... on her arm. She had closed her eyes, exhaling one last bit of smoke. She opened her eyes and looked at him again. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. I've been doing it a lot lately."

He took her arm and looked at it. The circles were all over her forearm, from the cigarette burns. She smiled weakly. There were new cuts too, but not as bad as the one he did... the one on his arm.

"I didn't do it."

"Okay," she said quietly. "But you should really cover that up better. Here," she turned to the side, where her bag was sitting, and pulled a flannel shirt from inside of it. "Put this on so he won't notice when you go in. You'll actually have to explain if he sees it."

Heero took the shirt into his hands, slowly and cautiously putting it on. Why was she being so nice? It didn't matter... it was better that she had done this. He didn't want that doctor asking.

"Did you get it checked out at the hospital?"

"What?"

"The cut."

"No." He ran his hand over the bandage, still feeling it sting.

"How deep?"

Heero shrugged. "Probably a quarter of an inch."

She smirked. "You're much braver than I am. Or you have a higher tolerance for pain."

"I consider it neither. I'm just more worthless."

"You really believe that?"

"Life is cheap, especially mine." He turned to her and smiled. An odd, and rather disturbing smile. She just stared, unsure of a reply. Heero slowly got up and walked away, back into the building. He was sure she wouldn't want to speak to him again, after that.