::coughs:: Yay! Yet another chapter of BtF! I hope you're enjoying this story so far, everyone who reads this. ::bows:: I try my best, I really do.

Disclaimers: I own my plot. That's it. And the title. (XDD) No more, no less.

Thankies to everyone who's written me a review! I ::heart:: you all! XD

Okies, wow, this one was even shorter than the last one! O.o"" XD Whatever, on with the fic!

Break the Façade

By Ari-chan

Chapter Three

This was all so familiar. The sharp edge of the razor, grazing my skin roughly enough to draw blood; watching, mesmerized, as the thing my body depended on most slipped away from me in one, slow, perpetual motion.

I often wondered, when I wasn't so depressive, how exactly I could just throw it all away like that. My life, I mean. I knew what I was doing; I knew the consequences of losing too much blood (it had happened more times than I would care to count), and I knew what it could do to someone.

So, why did I do it?

Simple, really; you just don't care anymore. You feel like no one cares, like you're completely alone, and for me, guilty. Of everything that you've done in your life; all of the mistakes you've made and how you can't fix them.

That's exactly how I felt right at this very moment. Only problem was, my worst fears were confirmed: It wasn't just that I thought that no one cared.

I knew it.

I knew no one cared for me. They had their own things to worry about. Why the hell should they bother themselves with me and my so-called "problematic" life? And Wufei was right; their lives were so much more worse than mine had been. I had no reason to complain.

So then why did I feel like I wanted someone to hear my story?

Why did I feel like I, yes me, mattered?

It should be the exact opposite, shouldn't it? If you're depressive to the point where you're ready to kill yourself, you should think that you don't matter in this world whatsoever, like you're just some insignificant little insect with no purpose in life.

But not me.

I'm different.

I woke up a little later that evening, probably around six or so. I looked around, and realized that I must have gone back to my room after the latest incident; losing my memory for a couple of minutes after I cut myself isn't out of the ordinary. I turned over in my bed, and got my feet on the cold floor.

First step, check.

I made sure I was balanced enough to walk before I actually started moving, and began the slow trek to the bathroom down the hall.

Opening my door as softly as I could manage, I looked in both directions to make sure no one would see me stagger down the dimly-lit corridor. As soon as the coast was clear, I closed my door as quietly as possible and headed in the direction of my usual hiding spot, praying that no one would see me in the state I was in.

It wasn't until I had made it to the bathroom without incident, locking the door quickly behind me, when I realized that everyone was probably eating supper at this time. Mentally I kicked myself, totally forgetting about dinner, which meant that Quatre would be worrying again, and which also meant that I would have to be quick tonight.

I actually had a humane purpose for coming to the bathroom today, which was doing exactly what it implied; taking a bath. I had been considering it for a couple of days, and I had decided yesterday that today would be the day. Of course I had showered...recently...but I wanted to take a bath; I needed to calm my nerves.

I turned on the faucet for hot water, and pressed the button to keep the water from going down the drain; we still had the old-fashioned kind in our end of the ship. I quickly stripped, trying to avoid looking at the hundreds of scars across my body, especially around my wrists, and slipped into the bath, the hot water enveloping me instantly.

But as I tried to rest in the water's warmth, the marks soon became too conspicuous to ignore. Actually looking at them, really looking at them, was kind of freaking me out; I usually tried not to notice the growing amount of physical war memories.

Tonight, however, they were intriguing me.

Sitting upright, I examined myself; shoulders, arms, chest, legs, feet, all parts of my body that had skin stretched taut across its surface. I saw that for the majority of the part, the scars were huge, long gashes from God knows what battle a few years back; others were minor scratches that I hadn't been able to stop burying my fingers into. The fleshy pink lines would be constant reminders of what horrible things I had done during the past couple years of my life.

All of those people...dead...

I could start to feel the tears coming again. I scrunched up my eyes, and pounded my fist against the side of the tub, letting the sound echo throughout the steam-filled room, attempting to relieve some stress to no avail. An irritated voice inside my head yelled at me, sounding very critical and angry: God damnit, Duo! Can't you just enjoy a bath and relax once in a while?!

The forceful voice inside my head only came out once in a while, when the soft, nagging one just wasn't cutting it. This was one of those times. And unfortunately for me, that voice was usually right.

So I took its advice, for once in my life. I laid back, closed my eyes, and for a couple of minutes enjoyed the steam from the warm water caressing my skin, slowly flowing into my nostrils and through my body, gently warming it.

I let out a deep breath, relaxed my body against the cool porcelain, and for the first time in weeks, I smiled. Truly smiled.

I awoke with a start some minutes later, it seemed like, to hear Quatre's voice on the opposite side of the door.

"Duo? Duo?! Are you OK? Answer me!!" His fist pounded against the door, almost enough to make a good-sized dent in the thick steel.

I half-smiled to myself, forgetting just how strong little feminine Quatre could be, but those thoughts abruptly stopped when more bangings sounded on the other side of the wall. I replied, with as much force as I could, "I'm all right! I just fell asleep in the tub!"

The pounding stopped suddenly, and after a few seconds that seemed to take forever, I could hear a heavy sigh. "Duo, do not scare me like that again, OK? I've been calling your name for a good minute or so; I was about ready to break down the door."

Fat chance with steel, I thought to myself sarcastically, smirking a little. But of course I wouldn't say that aloud. Then again, I don't say many things out loud, do I?

I heaved myself out of the bathtub, unplugging the drain, grabbed the burgundy-colored towels hanging off of the bar on my right, and quickly dried myself off. I wrapped one around my waist, leaving my chest bare, and put one over my head to stop my now loose, wet hair from dripping all over the floor. I grabbed my clothes, and tried to hide my scar-laden wrists under them.

Opening the door, I saw Quatre standing there, hands on his hips, looking a little frustrated. But damn did he look cute. At the sight of me, he looked a bit startled, from what I'm not sure; the layers of scars across my chest? Or just that I didn't have a shirt on? He regained his composure soon enough, though.

"What were you thinking, Duo?! You know falling asleep in a tub is very dangerous!" said the petite blond boy, wagging his index finger in front of my face, which came precariously close to my nose, making me blink spastically. "If you're that tired, you should go to bed earlier!"

It was obvious that Quatre was pretty pissed. I had definitely been acting a lot weirder lately, and I knew such things aggravated him; he hated seeing something he couldn't fix.

But that's exactly why I couldn't tell him about my suicidal tendencies. Quatre couldn't fix my problems; they were pretty much impossible to mend in the time-frame he was used to. You can't just take a person who wants to kill himself and turn him back to "normal," or as normal as we Gundam pilots could get, in a day or two. That just doesn't happen.

So that's why I kept it to myself.

And while Quatre was dragging me by my arm down the hallway back to my room and shouting at me about how odd I had been and how much he was really worried about me, inside I mentally grieved for Quatre, who tried so hard to make impossible things possible, the incorrect correct, and the unfair fair, when all I was doing was hindering his attempts to make everything in this crazy world right.

And deep in my heart, a part of me was weeping, because Quatre just didn't realize how much he was helping me put all the pieces of me back together that had been missing for so long.

After being hauled back to my room by the fourth Gundam pilot and being told that if I didn't go to visit Sally in the next two days that he would personally see to it that I was escorted there and taken care of, I was finally able to drag my ass back to bed for the second time that day. I had declined on going to get some late dinner, saying that I had eaten some leftover food from the night before at around five. Quatre had nodded, believing me, and had left me alone, throwing me skeptical looks on his way out.

It's sad how much people trust me, especially Quatre. I think he knows that I'm hiding a lot of things, but what I like about him is that he doesn't pressure me to tell him all about my personal life. He just tries to make sure that I know that he's there when I'm ready to lay my problems out there for the world to see, which is the best thing I could ask for from a friend right now.

Changing into some clean flannel pants and an oversized white T-shirt that Quatre had quickly obtained for me, I was about ready to climb back into bed to contemplate the meaning of life when I heard voices very close to my door. Loud voices.

I don't like to eavesdrop if it's not a mission, but it definitely seemed a lot more interesting than my previous plans, so, trying to move as carefully as possible, I quietly hopped out of my bed and put my ear to the door to hear the conversation better.

It wasn't too difficult to hear, as both of the people were practically shouting at each other.

"What the hell have you been doing to him, you bastard?" A cold, raging voice boomed, filling up the entire hallway with a feeling of hatred and discord.

"Nothing but what he deserves, Heero," replied another person after a few seconds, whose tone was just as cold.

Heero? What was he?... As softly as I could, I opened my door the tiniest crack to see what was going on.

And man, was it a sight to see.

Through the slit in my doorway, I could see that Heero had Wufei backed up against the wall next to my door, about four or five feet away from the actual door frame to my room. Wufei had the usual glare on his face, but Heero...I'd never seen him give such an icy and hateful gaze before. It was actually kind of frightening to look at; if I were in Wufei's place, I would have cowered instantly under that look. But, Wufei was being the stubborn bastard that he is about something. Again.

"What Duo deserves is kindness and respect from everyone. Including you," said the first Gundam pilot, unblinking, still glaring at Wufei.

The fifth Gundam pilot snorted, raising an eyebrow. "You're one to talk, 'Mr. Personality.'"

It was then that Heero must have finally snapped.

In a flash, Wufei's collar was in the tight grip of "Mr. Personality", the seams almost getting ripped out by the force of his right hand. He had shifted so fast I hadn't even been able to see him move.

I had never before in my life seen Wufei's eyes so big before. They looked like two rather large black marbles instead of the usual two slits of flint.

"Don't you dare say that ever again, you son of a bitch," said Heero, seething, looking like a rabid animal ready to go in for the kill.

Wufei just stood there; he looked paralyzed, rooted to the spot. There was really nothing he could do about it anyways, as Heero's grip was strong enough to strangle him if he really wanted to. Of course Heero wouldn't do that...right?

I watched, mesmerized, as Wufei stared into Heero's eyes for what seemed like forever. Wufei was looking at Heero with eyes full of hurt and anguish, while the blue-eyed pilot was the polar opposite: hatred and coldness mixed together into a giant mass of, if it were a physical attribute, would be along the lines of a poisonous venom. It was quite a sight to see, and if anybody walked by right now, they would probably be thinking, "What the hell?..."

It was then that Wufei spoke; softly, cautiously at first. "I...I thought that at least you'd understand, Heero." His voice slowly gained confidence, building to its normal tone. "You were the most like me: hatred, no kindness, out for revenge." Wufei closed his eyes, giving almost a tiny sigh. "But I guess I was wrong after all."

At that statement it was Heero's turn to look bewildered. He looked back at Wufei, questions running across his features, confusion written all over him like pages out of a book.

It was at this time that realization came over me: I had never been able to read Heero so easily before in my life. Every line, every crinkle on his face gave way to a new expression that before had been so hard to tell but now was so simple to see.

And it was scaring the shit out of me.

Slowly, Heero's grip loosened on the Chinese boy. The white on his knuckles disappeared, and his fingers gradually dropped down, along with his head, looking tired and beat up.

From where I was, I could see Heero's hands really well. They were big, but not oversized. Hard, lean, and muscled, they didn't have as many scars as I would expect on them. At my angle, his hands seemed almost...delicate.

They were perfect hands.

Wufei by now had started to back away, still not quite sure what had come over the normally apathetic, disinterested boy. He kept on watching Heero, hand reaching for his katana just in case. Though I doubt he would have been able to wield it, he looked so shaken.

Heero looked up suddenly. His eyes narrowed as he saw the Chinese boy back away from their little encounter, obviously questioning his courage. He then gave Wufei one of the hardest looks I've ever seen come from anyone, and said something that will stay burned in my memory forever:

"If I ever hear about you harassing Duo, or if I catch you in the act, I will not hesitate to fire this gun and kill you where you stand."

He reached into his navy-blue spandex shorts, and pulled out his gun. He aimed, and fired.

The sound of the bullet being fired ricocheted off of the walls, the sound slowly disappearing over time. I shut my eyes, preparing myself for the worst. When I opened them, I saw Wufei, directly in the middle of the hall, speechless, watching a lock of his own jet-black hair float slowly down to the ground.

It wasn't long after that little escapade when Wufei finally got smart and ran down the hallway, back to his room I'm assuming. I didn't really care.

All that I gave a damn about right now was Heero.

He...he...protected me... was pretty much all that my brain could process at the moment. He would...kill for me. It sounded a little morbid, but who was I to talk? And besides, in Heero's mind, that was a huge compliment.

I could hear my savior let out an enormous sigh. He leaned back against the wall next to my room, closed his eyes, and put his hand to his forehead, grasping his unruly chocolate-brown hair inbetween his fingers. He looked weak, exhausted, fragile.

I didn't know what to say. I wouldn't know what to say. How could I? There was only one word that I could get out:

"Heero..."

The brunette quickly spun around as I carefully opened the door to my room, eyeing him warily, aware that he still held his gun in his hand.

"Du--Duo?" he stuttered, something I'd never heard him do. He dropped the gun more out of surprise than surrender, letting it clatter heavily on the floor.

I stepped lightly out of my room, moving as gently as I could manage, and faced him. His eyes were wide, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. A mixture of surprise, shock, and confusion were written all over his face.

"Are you OK?" I asked him tentatively. Then I realized that my question was a little stupid, seeing as how Heero was the one who had grabbed Wufei by the collar. I mentally smacked myself for sounding so idiotic.

Heero opened and closed his mouth several times before giving up and nodding yes. He stared at me, this time he the one with the awkward look. I turned my head, not wanting to see his eyes...his beautiful blue eyes...the ones I could feel myself drowning into...

We stood there, him watching me, me noticing every crack, defilement and scratch on the cold, grey-colored cement floor. For a while neither of us said anything, and I was afraid he'd just turn around and leave when he finally whispered something.

"Did you...you did...you saw..." I looked up at him then. He couldn't seem to form the words very well, so I nodded, giving him a tiny boost of courage.

Now that statement sounds ironic.

"You...saw everything, didn't you?" he said quietly, looking off to the side, his face slightly flushed and embarassed-looking. He held his hands together, wringing them, unknowingly cracking his knuckles, overall looking highly distressed.

It was then that I understood why Heero was so flustered; he had just told Wufei that if he caught him toying with me, then he'd kill him. To most people, including me, that would sound a little...overprotective. Like he actually cared about me. And Heero? Caring about someone? An oxymoron in itself.

Not that I would mind.

It was my turn to nod, a little sheepishly, following Heero's example. Once again, silence filled the hallway.

I fidgeted, feeling very uncomfortable. I looked up at Heero every now and then, to see if he'd make a move, but he just stood there, shuffling his feet, looking as troubled as I felt.

I was sick of silence. That was all I had been hearing lately: silence. Silence for the world's problems, silence for other people's problems, silence for my problems. I was tired of getting nothing out of people. I just wanted to hear words, happy words, words of comfort. I wanted someone to do something. I wanted action, movement, help, understanding.

So I spoke up.

"Heero, I..." I stopped midsentence, more out of lack of things to say than to get his attention. But I did get the latter; he looked up at me, anxiety in his eyes.

"I...I just wanted to let you know that...that it's OK if you care about me," I said, a smile unknowingly spreading quickly across my face. I beamed, something I hadn't done in so long at the young brunette, who stared at me, dumbstruck.

A full two minutes passed of Heero looking like he'd just gotten punched in the gut and me grinning like an idiot.

Something felt weird. Really weird. Heero didn't look right; his eyes were glazed over, like he'd just been smacked in the face. He was looking at me, but what he really saw was the air behind me.

I furrowed my brow, confused. Did I say something wrong? I know telling Heero that it was all right that he actually cared about something must be a little odd for the seemingly aloof war machine pilot, but come on...he basically just stated it himself. What was the matter? What was so wrong?...

"Duo, I..." Heero was looking at me, his eyes glistening.

What the hell?...

"Duo, I...I don't care about you. I can't."

My slightly confused half-smile immediately turned upside-down. Was I seeing things? Was I hearing him correctly...?

I obviously must have looked bewildered, because Heero quickly added, "I've got someone else to watch out for." He turned away from me then, looking very interested in the wall all of a sudden.

It felt like someone had just dropped a fifty ton weight over my head. I stared at him in horror, my jaw hung slack. He...didn't care about me?

Then why? Why had he protected me all of this time? Why had he been everything I ever wanted, needed, craved for from anyone? Why had he been my savior, my hope, my confidence, my love?

Was this all a dream?

That must be it; this is all a dream. I'm imagining this. Any minute now, I'll wake up, and see that Heero is still standing in front of me, not walking away like he is in my dream right now, not looking at me with such sad eyes that look regretful and pained, not continuing down the hall at break-neck speed, not making me feel like I'm lost, down, hurt, depressed, suicidal, not making my heart feel like it's breaking in two, not making me just want to end it all right now, at this very second...

And it was right then that I did wake up from my dream.

My dream that Heero loved me.

Awww...::sniffles incredibly loud:: It's so sad!!! WAHHH!!! ::goes and cries in a corner:: I really don't like doing this to poor Duo...T.T""

Well, the chapter's done. Hope you all like the story so far. If you do, please write a review. (Look! I can rhyme! XD) I love reviews; they make me feel like the time I'm spending on this is worthwhile, and that people actually like my story! XD

Okies, my time's up for this chapter. See you all in the next one! ::waves::

Ari-chan