No words.
I have no words for this. No words for ... for... this carnage, this brutality. No words at all.
It's absolutely incredible, staring down at the bleeding boy in my arms, feeling the burning of my own wounds, two pilots bound together by common purpose and agony. And it's not often I get poetic.
But there's just nothing I can say about the fucking mess that the "Perfect Soldier" has made of himself, and I can only respond to the slamming against the door after the shock slams into me. "I've got it covered, I'll explain what's going on tomorrow, guys." Hands working frantically to open the damned package - who the fuck thought it was a good idea to make these so hard to open? They are SO getting sued if Heero fucking DIES because I can't open the goddamn thing!
His lips are blue. Wait, what the hell does that even mean? I thought that was hypothermia, it's not that fucking cold - "OPEN THE DAMNED DOOR OR I'LL SHOOT IT OFF!"
Oh, for the love of God, even I'm not this melodramatic. "I SAID IT'S COVERED! HE'S FINE, AND I'VE GOT IT UNDER CONTROL, GET THE FUCK AWAY! NO I WILL NOT OPEN THE DOOR! NO!" I can feel him shaking, trembling against me as gasps and whimpers come from some nightmare that only he can see. But his eyes are half-open and it's almost like he's looking straight at me...
"No! DUO MAKE IT STOP! Please, God, just fucking go away, I'LL FUCKING SHOOT YOU!" He's screaming now and I don't know what to do - he's never lost it like this before, we've all had our fucked up moments but what the hell do I do now? He's calling my name like I'm his fucking savior, and there's nothing. I. Can. Do. I can't make this stop, I can't fight his demons for him, and why the hell is there so much blood on my hands?
"It's okay, Heero, just relax, I've got you, you're okay..." Why can't he hear me? I know he's awake, but ... Oh, God, his eyes. My hands stop, pressed against his arm as I stare down at him, drowning in Prussian blue, the terror and fear mounting, pressing toward insanity and - something I can't quite name. He looks so lost... so innocent...
"But he's SCREAMING!"
"NO SHIT he's screaming, Trowa, just back the fuck off, okay? Give me a minute, let me get him secure, okay? I'll let you do your shit, just BACK THE FUCK OFF AND LET ME DO THIS!" Panic, panic, it's like he's projecting his fear onto me, and the entire world seems to stop
shudder
blackness
fear.
Is this what he sees when he closes his eyes? Is this what he's feeling? I mean... my God, I've got my fucked up war memories and there will be more, but he looks like raw nerves are exposed - hell, they probably are, and I suddenly remember that I should be applying pressure. Okay. Grabbing the goddamned knife from his lifeless fist, the gauze is open, everything will be fine, it's okay, isn't it? Heero? YOU'RE the one who reassures ME!
"Oh, God, Heero... hold on, I'll fix it, I promise I'll fix it, see? I'm wrapping it up nice, all neat so you won't have a spaz attack when you wake up, and you'll yell at me and call me a baka and everything will be fine..." But he's shaking, and his skin feels cold. Somehow his blood on my hands is worse than the lives I've taken.
What the HELL? I didn't expect him to actually fucking shoot the door! But all three of them come barging in, Quatre first, falling to his knees next to us as he sees what I'm trying to protect - Heero's secret. "Quatre, he's gonna be fine, something happened, I think he was trying to do some repair work, but I can't stop the bleeding - dammit, just shut the door!"
And he's crying, him and Trowa, and I look down and realize that this looks pretty bad, but at least I got the words covered, right? I mean... save him that humiliation, at least. He's got to fucking talk about this. I have no fucking clue how I can explain us out of this. I can't believe I lied.
"Shit! Oh my God, Duo, what the hell happened? Did he fall into a fucking meat shredder? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!" Fuck you, Trowa... I didn't think you knew those words though. Can't you see I'm trying to fix this? Can't you see the look in his eyes? His... eyes... are so deep, like bottomless oceans, but he looks so innocent.. so childlike... and he reaches, reaches for me, his hand spasming as pain wracks his body, crying out over and over again. Something's wrong.
"I don't know what to do! He's just fucking bleeding, and I don't know what to do! I can't make it stop, and you just fucking barge in here -- and don't even think about it, NO HOSPITALS! I won't do that to him -- Wait, where the hell is he bleeding from?"
No. Oh, no. Hands shake as I cut his clothes off and stare blindly at the echo of my own pain - he'd slashed himself. Hard. The same fucking spot that he stitched on me. Deep and brutal, the edges jagged and I can't even see how bad it is through the blood. He didn't. Tell me he didn't.
"Oh, God!" The world seems really far away now, everyone talking around me as I sit and stare. We sit, together, on the floor of his Gundam, staring at each other. And I can't tell what hurts the most right now.