A Stagnation of Love
Chapter 8
Part 11
Remember what I said about good days, and how they always seem to be followed up by shitty ones, and the better the day, the worse the bad ones tend to be? Well, this week has been a weird flux of ups and downs, moments when I've felt like I was about to scream and cry, but others, like Heero and mine's first date, where I was so happy, I thought that it couldn't be real, that nothing that good could possibly be happening to me. But Monday was a bit of a shit storm. Not as bad as I had feared things would be, given how great my Saturday had been, but it had seemed like one of those days that just didn't want to end and the universe seemed to have some kind of perverse glee in throwing shit in my way.
The nap that I had taken that Saturday marked the last real sleep that I would get until the following Saturday morning. After my father had knocked me on my ass, I had fled to my bedroom to try to get some sleep, only to be hit by a legendary bout of insomnia. There really wasn't much of a reason for it. While I did find myself going through everything that had happened on Saturday in my head, it wasn't with any kind of stress. I just felt content to replay those happier memories in my head. But still, even though I didn't feel restless or anxious and wasn't in any kind of pain or stress, sleep eluded me. I think I managed about forty-five minutes between all the tossing and turning and abruptly waking up for no reason that I did.
I gave up at around six in the morning and decided to get an early start to the day. Tiredness hung on me like a bad odor, but I took a shower, the cold water helping to make me feel more alert, and managed to start breakfast without rousing my father. He had fallen asleep while still in his chair in the living room and I didn't even dare to go in there to shut the television off. The groceries that Heero's parents had given me were a complete godsend that morning. My mother hadn't given me the budget or grocery list yet, so that would wait until I came home from work. I helped myself to a packet of instant oatmeal, cutting up a banana that had been among the gifted food to add to the mix, a nicer breakfast than I had had all week.
I worked on my homework a bit more until my mother woke up and I pried the grocery list off of her. Our budget was even more pathetic than I had feared that it would be, but I would make it work. With some sacrifices, sales, and coupons, I've made miracles happen before, we would just have to make due with some... creative meals for another couple of weeks. Through a completely different kind of miracle, my father was still asleep when I left the house for work at eight thirty. I envied him that luxury, that he could go out and get himself wasted and be able to sleep so deeply.
I spent my work day pulling out rotten boards from someone's deck in the north end. We were just ten minutes away from Heero's neighborhood and I found myself constantly thinking about him, our date, the kiss in the parking lot, and even wondering if, had I agreed to sleep over at his place instead of my own, I would have slept better. It worried me a little, that I might be coming so dependent on him and his home that it was spoiling me. I already hated taking showers at home and would often have my meals there instead of at my place.
I could say that it was better for my parents, that it made no sense for me to eat our food when I was getting free meals somewhere else, but while that was a perk, that was all it was. The real reason was that I hated eating at my house. The cheap and often bland, greasy food was one thing. I was used to that, having lived that way for my entire life. I'm even used to the small amounts or not eating at all so my parents would have more if we were running low on something. But sitting in the cold, quiet kitchen alone, eating soup from a can or days old pizza or a frozen dinner somehow made the food taste worse, like the atmosphere had stolen the flavor right out of everything. I rarely have an appetite anymore when I'm home and have to force myself to eat anything. Every room in this place has a memory that turns my appetite sour and twists my stomach into a knot, whether it's the beer stains in the living room or remembering how my father had raped me in front of my mother in that kitchen, it's like my body remembers even when I try to block it out of my mind.
You see, it's the smell. I can push those memories away from me so I can try to function like a normal human being, but it's the fucking smells that always bring things back no matter what defenses I raise against them. The smell of beer, of mildew, of sweat, of sex, of blood. Everything reminds me of my father's sexual assaults. All it takes is a whiff of that dusty, mildewy smell that's everywhere in our house, or the smell of the cheap beer that my father drinks to make me want to vomit. And it's not just this house, it's anywhere that has those smells. I start to shake and I feel like my guts are trying to crawl up my damned throat.
But there's nothing like that at Heero's house, not a single reminder of those things. Their house smells completely different. There's no dust, no mildew, no faint scent of cigarettes from when my father is coming home from a bar or being with Pat, no smell of booze at all. It takes me right out of that black hole in my head and it's so much easier there to forget about all those bad things. When I'm with Heero, I don't have to feel scared or sick or anxious like I do everywhere else. I'm not so naive to think that he can keep me safe, but when we're together or when I'm with his parents, I do feel safe. Maybe that's foolish, but I think that's why I can sleep better there than I can here, that false security, the complete separation from all of those nightmares and bad memories.
It's not like I don't get insomnia and nightmares (even those weird ones) when I'm there, because I do and frequently, but whatever reason there is for my sleeping disorders, it's not because of that place and even when I can't fall asleep there... I don't know, it doesn't weigh on me so heavily for some reason. Anyway, that's where my head was all the time during work and grocery shopping, bouncing between feeling giddy about Saturday and feeling terrible that I couldn't deal with my problems on my own, that I needed to escape someplace just to function, that I felt like my life in my own house was degrading into this never ending nightmare that was trying to eat me.
Had things always been this bad since my father had first raped me, or were they getting progressively worse? But why would they? I have good things in my life now when I didn't back then, so why do I feel like everything is deteriorating? Why does dealing with this feel like it's getting more and more impossible when I should be used to it by now? Why won't my skin thicken instead of just tearing and bleeding over and over, more and more easily? It made me feel like I should pull away from Heero, stop going over there so much. What if I really was using him as a security blanket and relying on him and his parents was keeping me from learning how to survive at home?
I don't know the answer. I only know that I feel more and more miserable when I'm in this house now. It's like those scenes from horror movies when a family moves into a place that's haunted or cursed. Everything seems so ominous and dark and wrong. And I know that what's wrong isn't the house, it's me. There's something haunted in me and I don't know how to fix it, how to go back to the way that I used to be. How to not lean on my boyfriend so hard, because I'm afraid that one day, I might break him and he'll resent me for it.
I wasn't remotely surprised when I went to lay down that night and found that I was just as incapable of falling asleep as I had been the night before. I managed almost an hour again before the sound of the attic stairs creaking had me shooting wide awake, like someone had just given me a shot of adrenaline. I froze as I heard my bedroom door opening and something in my chest almost had me screaming. But, just like I did every night that this occurs, I stayed silent as I felt that familiar weight settle on top of me, and hands that I've known since childhood were manhandling me into whatever position he wanted. It was one of those times when he wasn't rough or violent or drunk. I didn't smell any alcohol at all on him and he was gentle with me, almost tender in that way that he had been the first time, after I had stopped fighting him.
When he came in me with this strained sigh that was almost one of relief and I felt him bury his face in my hair, he whispered that he loved me like he does sometimes, although I can never tell if he's saying it to me or to some memory of my mother when she had been my age. It shouldn't matter, I guess, but hearing those words from him, even if they're a lie, even if they're to someone else, even if it's just in the heat of the moment, it rips apart the walls around my heart like a tornado and hits that very vulnerable place that I never seem to be able to protect when he does these things to me. That childish part of myself that always wonders if this is so bad, so long as I can hear those words from him. I kept the tears back until he cleaned himself off, pulled his pants back up, and left, but only just barely.
After that, sleep was impossible and I knew it. I had this sickly, prickly feeling in my stomach that wouldn't go away, like I had eaten something rotten and my insides were still trying to decide if they should try to digest it anyway or do away with it. I got up, cleaning myself off as best that I could with an old towel that I threw in the hamper. I had long since stopped throwing out towels and sheets that were stained with cum or blood if he got too rough with me. It seemed like a waste after awhile and I had cleaned that shit off of me so many times that, while I still felt repulsed by those towels after I washed them, I wasn't so disgusted that I couldn't use them again.
I made a beeline for the bathroom when I got downstairs and promptly threw up in the toilet. I hadn't really needed to, I had only been feeling slightly nauseous, but throwing up had made me feel a little bit better. I was incredibly grateful that I had just gone grocery shopping, because there was a gallon of water in the fridge to wash my mouth out with and I wouldn't have to use the brackish tap water. I settled into the couch in the living room because it was the room in the house that I could deal with the most. My father hasn't fucked me in there yet. I turned the little lamp on in there and read for a couple of hours, the only activity that I had the mental capacity for at that point.
Around five, even reading seemed like a futile exercise. I was in that strange level of tiredness that people get when they usually start to feel dizzy, distracted, and struggle to keep their eyes open and know that if they don't head to bed, they're going to black out if they're sitting in a chair. Only when you have insomnia, you don't get the satisfaction of droopy eyes, only the rest of those symptoms while you're technically wide awake. I couldn't concentrate even on reading and knew that being sedentary was making me feel worse.
It was still rather dark out, but I put a light jacket on and my sneakers and left my house to go for a run. I thought about calling Heero and asking him if he wanted to meet me somewhere, which told me more than anything else about the mental state, or lack thereof, that I was in. It was five in the damned morning, even if he would have been happy to go running with me, there was no way I was going to wake him up that early. Just because I was suffering with sleep deprivation, it didn't mean that I had to make him suffer, too, even if I wanted more than anything to see him again. It had only been a day that I hadn't seen him, but I felt like it had been a week. It made me feel stupid, like some love sick puppy that couldn't go five seconds without seeing my boyfriend, but I guess that's exactly what I am, as pathetic as that truth is.
The cool air of the early morning helped to make me feel a little bit better, and the exercise of running helped even more. Without Heero there to temper me, I went all out, running as fast and hard as my body would let me through south Nausten, past the train yard and factories and steel works that my father worked at, taking several side streets and connecting alleys until I hit the town border where I turned around and went back the way that I had come. I ran until I was sweating, even with the slightly chilly air, until the sun started to weakly rise and my legs were screaming at me that I was pushing them too hard. I ignored them, and my lungs, too, when they started to burn. It was a good kind of pain and it took my mind off of things that I didn't want it to be on in the first place.
When I got back to my house, I took a quick, five minute shower, the water like a sheet of ice running over me and making me shiver, but it served to make me feel a little bit more awake, enough that I thought I wouldn't be a total zombie for the school day. It got the smell of sex off of me, even if I didn't feel especially clean. I left for school soon after that, even if it was a little bit earlier than usual, partially because I was hoping that Heero would come to school early as well and partially because I was in that state of tiredness that sitting around doing nothing was driving me insane.
There's something really wonderful... almost magical about going into the school in the early morning hours, when there's no one there but me and the janitorial staff, maybe a couple of really dedicated teachers making a beeline for the teacher's lounge and a cup of coffee. Everything is so still and quiet with none of my classmates there, this kind of forced peace, like the eye of a hurricane. You know that soon, everything is going to be chaos again, but for a moment, it's just you and the silence, like the world has been put on pause just for you.
I can appreciate those moments and enjoy the atmosphere when I'm by myself, or if it's just Josh and myself. There are no bullies trying to corner us, no classmates throwing us dirty looks, no teachers eying me with distaste and distrust. It drives home to me that I don't hate school. In fact, if it weren't for the people that I was forced to share that building with, I would like it a great deal.
I went to my locker, deciding to risk it for the day and was rewarded, and relieved, to find that it hadn't been tampered with in any way since the last time I had used it. I put the textbooks that I would need after lunch inside and was just closing and locking the door when I felt someone walk up behind me. What happened next can, I feel, only be blamed on my sleep deprivation because instead of tensing and preparing for some blow or cruel trick like I usually do, I actually relaxed. My tired brain didn't go into flight mode but thought that the person behind me had to be Heero, because who else could possibly be there that early but him?
So when I turned around and found, not my boyfriend, but Relena fucking Darlian glaring at me in that hateful way of hers that she reserves only for me and, maybe, shit covered blow flies, to say that I was startled is putting it rather mildly. With barely any sleep in the last three days, my reaction time was absolutely pitiful. When Relena shoved me hard into my locker with violent force, my brain was still too busy trying to figure out why she was there to take any evasive maneuvers.
She grabbed me by the front of my jacket and slammed me into the metal surface of the lockers, her icy blue eyes on fire with anger. I could have pushed her away, but I was slow on the uptake and my confusion was making me even slower. We weren't in the fourth grade anymore and had stopped being the same height and build years ago. Puberty had finally decided to pay me more than a glance and I had a few inches on her and while I might be skinny, I wasn't weak. You can't lug around heavy cargo and do maintenance work without building up some muscle. While I'll probably always be lanky and slim, and her brother was more than capable of pushing me around, Relena was still a seventeen year old girl of average height and build, who had never lifted a finger for her entire life. But that didn't make her any less terrifying when she was this full of rage.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" she hissed at me, sounding an awful like a pissed off cat, "Just who the hell do you think you are?! You think you're so crafty, don't you? That you can just do whatever you want with Heero... with my boyfriend and I would never figure it out! Well, I know what you're doing! I've always known!"
Her fingernails dug into my jacket like claws as she became more and more infuriated as she spoke, but it was her words that terrified me infinitely more than the fury that was etched all over her face. Relena knew about me and Heero? But how was that possible? We had just gone on one, damned date! Had we been that obvious during school? Had someone spotted us Saturday night? If they had, then Heero was in a world of trouble, and all because of me. I had destroyed his life by deciding to go on that date and I was sure that Relena would be all too happy to drag the both of us through the mud for it.
"I don't know how you did it," she snarled at me, "what you did to turn him against me, but don't you think for a single fucking second that I'm going to take it lying down! You might be as slimy and underhanded as a snake, but it's only a matter of time before Heero sees what you really are, you realize that, don't you?! It must have been great fun for you... perverting him like that, getting him to dump me and say those horrible things to me, all so you could laugh behind my back!" she slammed me against the locker again, but I was so bewildered that I barely felt it, "What gave you the right, you disgusting piece of shit, huh?! I love him!"
I watched in shock as she began to sob, tears pouring down her pale, porcelain face like waterfalls.
"You... you think that I got Heero to dump you... to get back at you?" I asked in amazement.
A part of me felt relieved, realizing that I had jumped to conclusions and the bitch didn't suspect anything between Heero and myself at all, but mostly I was amazed at the depths of crazy behavior. She really thought that I was the reason why her boyfriend had dumped her and all of their friends so suddenly, that I had manipulated him and played some sort of terrible trick on him to get him over to my 'side', like I had brainwashed him or something. Was she so delusional that she actually believed something like that, or so desperate to believe that it hadn't been her fault and she could honestly get Heero back as soon as he came to his senses? If she was reacting like this just by watching us hang out together at school for a few months, how would she react if she ever found out that we were seeing each other romantically, that Heero was in love with me?
"Not that I could expect you to understand," she laughed this dry, terrible, almost hysterical laugh, "What could a faggot like you understand about loving someone?! What it's like to fall in love?! But if you have any decency at all, you would drop this... this charade of yours and give him back to me! Don't you understand? I love Heero, we belong together! If you could understand that, even a little, you'd stop this, instead of destroying what we had! Just because all you can have is... is unnatural affection, it doesn't give you the right to drag him down with you! You have to give him back... if you don't... I'll... I'll make your life a living hell!"
Those words, nearly the same ones that Zechs had said to me when I had been much younger and he had taken his revenge for turning down his sister's advances, would have been chilling if she had said them with any kind of anger. While her voice was full of hatred and repulsion towards me, her words dissolved into a fit of sobs and almost violent crying that would have twisted anyone's heart. Her eyes squeezed shut, her breath hitching, and her cheeks soaked wet with tears, she was a picture of misery, one that I had seen in the mirror myself a few times.
A part of my heart went out to her. I had never seen her like this, so raw and emotional, in such obvious pain. I hadn't even thought her capable of such things. I know what it feels like to love someone, really love someone, and lose them. I know what it feels like to watch them with someone else, knowing that you can't even speak to them or share a single part of your life with them. I know what it's like to fuck up and not know what to do to fix it, feeling like your heart is tearing to shreds.
But that part of me, which was only a very tiny part to begin with, shriveled into nothing as I reminded myself that Relena was the reason why I had lost someone that I had loved, not because of mistakes like her, not because they had hated me or even just wanted to be away from me, but because she had taken them away from me. She had taken Quatre away from me. And unlike her, that was no delusion. Probably for the first time in her whole fucking life, she might understand how that feels and while I might have felt some sympathy for the cunt at one point in my life, I felt none for her in that moment.
And why should I? She could cry and sob all she wanted, but the boy that she loved was still there. She could look at him and see that he was happy, she had at least that luxury. I didn't even have that much. Neither did Quatre. Anger ripped through me like a shotgun blast and I shoved her harshly away from me. She stumbled back, her eyes wide with shock, obviously not having thought that I would do that. Maybe she had thought that she could manipulate me with her tears, not that I thought that her feelings weren't genuine, but it would be just like her to think that she could get her way by acting like that. Her shock only made me angrier and I let it feed me, like a fire in my gut.
"Good," I sneered at her, letting that cruel hatred that I had always loathed and feared about myself come out for once instead of shoving it back down inside, "I hope you love him with all your twisted, black heart," I shoved her again, right into a row of lockers on the other side of the hallway and pinned her there.
I was a lot more successful than she had been and I felt this sickening sense of satisfaction in my stomach when a bit of fear entered her eyes. I had done something like this before to her and she had laughed me off as something pitiful. But not this time. This time she didn't have her friends around her. This time she saw something on my face that she didn't like at all and I realized that it was intention. Before, I had backed off, knowing that I couldn't do it, I couldn't hurt her even if I wanted to. But I wasn't that person anymore. While my actions and my feelings might sicken me, there's something ugly inside of me and ever since Quatre died, it's been a little bit easier every day to live with it. To let it consume me. Anger, hatred, the need to do violence, call it what you will. I've lived with it for so long, terrified that it means that I'm turning into my father and I've fought against it, kept it at bay since I had first felt it before I had even become a teenager. I couldn't raise my hand or my voice to anyone, I had thought. I knew how it felt to be hit and harmed, how terrible it was, so how could I do it to anyone else?
Then I had watched my best friend kill himself because of other peoples' cruelty and suddenly, it had just become easier for me to strike someone, and so much harder for me to keep those feelings in check. I would hate myself for it later, and the pure intensity of it would frighten me, but right then, I was glad for it, because it had scared her. I realized that she was scared of me then like she hadn't before because before we had both known that I wouldn't do anything. But right then, even I wasn't so sure that I wasn't going to.
"I hope it kills you every time that you see us together," I snapped at her and there was a hideousness in me just then, this dark, bitter feeling that wanted to tell her that I was seeing her ex-boyfriend, that he had told me that he loved me and had kissed me and held my hand and told me that he liked me more than he ever had her.
Caution be damned, I wanted to rub her perfect, pretty face in it and I hated myself for that. Not for wanting to hurt her, but for wanting to use something that had been beautiful to me just to get back at her. I could never do that. No matter how much I hated her or how desperate I was to get one up on her for once, I would never, ever use my relationship with Heero like that. I would rather rip my own eyes right out of my head than ever reduce the love that I had for him, and the love that he miraculously shared with me, just to get revenge on Relena.
"I hope it tears your guts right out of you," I continued to growl at her, almost on the verge of screaming at her, "so you can know how it feels to have someone you love taken from you."
My hurt and my rage boiled and crested in me and I could suddenly feel the same urge that I had had shortly after Quatre had died, the same urge that had made me punch both Zechs and Relena. This bitch had gotten my best friend killed and she was begging me to do something for her? After everything she had done to me and Quatre, everything that her brother had done to Heero, she had the gall to ask and demand anything from me? Her audacity infuriated me and I only just barely managed to keep from hitting her somehow.
I can't tell you how, but I regained at least a small measure of my self control, which is pretty remarkable given how irritable and pissy I was from lack of sleep, even without the turbulent things that she usually makes me feel on a good day. Relena, however, had no such self control and with a startling scream of rage, she lashed out at me, raking her nails across my cheek. I let go of her shirt and stumbled backwards in shock, not that I was surprised by her striking me given how enraged I had just made her, just the suddenness of it. I clutched at my cheek, already feeling warm blood there.
"Fucking freak!" she shrieked at me and swung at me again, but I was prepared for her this time and dodged it, which only served to anger her more, "You're nothing more than a nasty, perverted fag and he's going to realize that, what a loser you are, and how foolish he's been! Do you really think that someone like him would ever want anything to do with a piece of filth like you?! You're just a curiosity to him, something to cure his boredom with, but he'll get tired of you soon, it's only inevitable!"
With that, looking like she was still considering attacking me further, she stormed past me, shoving me out of her way even though she could have easily gone around me. I didn't pay attention to where she was going, I didn't really care. A part of me, a very small part, felt triumphant that I had managed to get under her skin, but the rest of me just felt sick. Really, really sick. I had that weak, dizzy feeling you get when you haven't eaten for awhile or are just starting to get the flu, but it had nothing to do with my tiredness or any possibility of being physically ill. It was her words and my actions that were making me feel like I was going to throw up.
She hadn't said anything that I haven't thought myself ever since the day that he had saved me from the mob after I had come out, but that was why it hit me so hard. Had I ever thought that someone like Heero Yuy would want anything to do with a loser like myself? Of course not. We've been friends for months now, have been dating for two weeks, and it still amazes me that Heero not only puts up with me, but actually likes me and enjoys spending time with me. And of course, it only seemed inevitable that one day he would come to his senses and see the kind of person that I am, see that he can do so much better than me. It's a fear that I live with every single day. Only a matter of time before he realizes that I'm a pitiful, rage filled person. A person who is cheating on him with his own damned father. How disgusting can you get?
What would he say, I wondered, if he knew that I had shoved his ex-girlfriend against the wall like some kind of thug, if he knew that I had wanted so badly to hit her? Would he be horrified? Disgusted? Repulsed to know the kind of violence and anger that lives in me? Why not? I disgust myself. So many years, I've lived in terror that one day, all of my father's faults and weaknesses would become mine, that I would stop fighting against this... ugly rage and desire to hurt the people around me and just give in to it. I already had a little, hadn't I? I had hit Relena and Zechs, broken his nose, and I had almost shot my father in the head while he had been sleeping. I am the lowest sort of person that is, someone who can't even fight against their lesser nature.
Once upon a time, I had tried so hard to be like Quatre, to forgive, to ignore these feelings. What changed? Why has it become so hard to control my temper, to stop being so hateful? I feel like there's something broken in me that I can't contain this darkness and bitterness. There are some days when I just hate everything and everyone and want to lash out at someone. That I haven't is something of a miracle, but I can feel it, how capable I am of doing that, how easy it would be. Relena might be nuts and delusional, thinking that Heero would want to go back to her, but she was also right. It is only a matter of time before he sees those things in me and realizes what a mistake he's made. I've known that for a long time now and all common sense tells me that, for both of our sakes, the safest option would be to cut ties with him. But if going on that date had taught me anything, it's that I'm weaker than I ever thought that I was.
Even to save him, and even myself from being hurt, I can't find the strength to do it. I need him. He makes me feel normal. He makes me feel like I could be strong enough to be a better person. He believes in me, one of the only people that ever has, and it's like a drug. It's an addiction to me. My father has his booze and his rages, but I have love. I attach myself to it like a blood sucking leech and I can't let go. Without it, what am I? What do I have beyond him and his care for me? I'm no better than my father is, I just like to tell myself I am, but I'm the same. He can't stop drinking and I can't stop being with Heero, even if it drags him down with me.
I went to my homeroom class feeling depressed and like what little energy I had had that morning had completely dissipated. Just the thought of getting through the school day, let alone the rest of my day, seemed utterly impossible. My hopeless feelings of self-hatred were an iron ball and chain that I was lugging around with me and I just didn't have the ability to deal with any of it. I got some paper towels out of the classroom dispenser and used them to get the blood off of my face. The scratch had already stopped bleeding, but it was pretty deep considering that it was just from Relena's nails. She had seriously tried to hurt me and I was just lucky that she hadn't been aiming for my eye.
I sat down at my desk and let my head fall against my arms heavily. I closed my eyes and prayed that sleep would come, even just for a minute or two, even though I knew that it wouldn't. There's always this sense of fear when I get into these insomnia spells and I wonder just how long they'll last. The longest I've had one for was a week, not that I didn't sleep for a week, but I only managed an hour every other day, not enough to really operate on. Every time it last for more than two days, I worry that it won't end, that I'll never be able to actually get a decent sleep again.
I've never been a great sleeper. When you live with a man like my father, deep sleep is a very rare thing, between just always being on edge and needing to be on edge, not even to mention the nightmares that he would give me as a child. But I had never really had spells of sleeplessness like this until Quatre had died. I would sometimes be in too much pain or too stressed to sleep, but never for more than a night, and never without a reason.
Then I had watched my best friend take his life and the horrible, endless string of anxiety and nightmares had taken root. You would think that, after four years, I would have gotten used to them or they would have faded, but they never did. The insomnia that I had felt in the weeks after that terrible moment of my life sure as hell hadn't, either. It had only gotten worse after my father had raped me and the nightmares had turned into something disturbing and invasive, like he had raped my head, too. The spells come more frequently lately and while I've gotten used to going a night or two without much sleep, it's not something that I would enjoy. Not only that, even when I'm able to sleep, it's never for long, mostly in four to five hour bursts instead of the seven that I used to manage. I should probably be on some kind of medication or see a therapist, but the one frightens me, what with my family history of addictions, and the other wouldn't be very effective since there are just some things that I can never tell anyone. It's kind of hard to get treatment for a wound that you deny even exists.
I heard someone come into the classroom and tensed, thinking that it was Relena deciding that she wanted round two, but when I lifted up my head, I saw that it was Heero, coming in at his usual time. Even through my lousy mood, I felt a burst of happiness just to see him. That's what he does to me, the reason why I can't break up with him, why I need him in my life so badly. No matter what I'm feeling, just by seeing him, it's like he can clear away all the bad shit in my head. When he smiles at me, talks to me, touches me, nothing else matters. All my anxieties seem so little and petty.
"Morning," he said to me, way too chipper as far as I was concerned, and I raised my hand in greeting, unable to muster that kind of energy without at least a cup of coffee, which I was sure that he had had that morning if he was that awake.
He paused as he walked to his desk, getting a good look at me.
"Duo, your face-" he started to say in shock, seeing the scratches.
"Relena," I explained, self-consciously running the back of my knuckles against the wounds, feeling the ragged edges of my skin and the dried blood as well as a light stinging pain from my touch.
His blue eyes narrowed with anger and he shook his head.
"Fucking bitch," he muttered, but then his gaze softened to one of concern, "You alright?"
"Yeah, I guess," I said a bit half-heartedly, not wanting to think about what Relena and I had fought about, let alone, god forbid, tell Heero about it. There was nothing he could do about it anyway, and if he found out that his ex had attacked me because of him, he would just feel guilty when it was far from his fault, "she just scratched me a little, that's all."
He frowned again, not looking convinced at all and I wondered if my depression was written all over my face or something.
"How long has it been since you've gotten a decent night's sleep?" he asked me bluntly.
I blinked at him stupidly, shocked that he could tell something like that from a look. But then again, I was sure that I looked like shit and Heero is well aware of my sleeping problems.
"Saturday," I confessed dryly, "when I took that nap at your house."
"Jesus, Duo, you've gone without sleep for almost forty-eight hours?!" he said in shocked exasperation.
"Not no sleep," I told him, "I got a little less than an hour Sunday morning and today."
He ran his hand through his messy hair, looking amazed, probably that I considered less than an hour any kind of sleep.
"You need to see a doctor about this," he insisted heatedly and it wasn't the first time that he had said that about my sleeping problems.
"It's not that bad," I shook off his concern, "It comes and goes. My health insurance is shit anyway and I can't afford to see a doctor just because I have problems sleeping."
"You have chronic insomnia," he argued, "That's a serious medical problem, you just can't keep ignoring it! At least let me get you some sleeping pills-"
"I don't want any goddamn pills!" I snapped at him irritably.
Hurt flashed across Heero's face. It was only for a second, but it made me feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.
"I... I'm sorry," I apologized, rubbing the back of my hand across my eyes, "I didn't mean to snap like that."
To my surprise, instead of being bitter about it or brushing me off, he smiled at me and squeezed my shoulder.
"It's alright, you're allowed to be a little bit irritable when you're this tired," he said kindly, not an ounce of that hurt left on his face.
"I just don't want to start taking something like sleeping pills, I don't want to become chemically dependent on them," I told him stubbornly, not telling him the depths of my fears, that the last thing I needed on top of all my other problems was to become a drug addict, to become chemically dependent like my parents had, "I'm fine, really. This will pass just like it always does."
"Well, at least you'll be staying at my house after work," he said, leaning against his desk in this laid back posture that made my attraction for him flare up for a reason that I can't begin to comprehend, "Maybe you'll get some better sleep there."
"Oh..." I did that stupid blinking thing again, "... right. I forgot."
That I was sleeping over at Heero's place had completely slipped my mind for some reason. It wasn't something that I would forget, I usually would count the hours until I would get to go over to his house. I guessed that I was even more tired than I had realized. I felt another burst of happiness, and quite a lot of relief, like this weight had been taken off of my shoulders just knowing that I wouldn't be going home after work in the morning. The thought that I might actually get some sleep, even just enough to get the weary feeling out of my eyes and make the dull throbbing in my head go away, made me want to cheer. Hell, even if I still didn't get any sleep, at least I wouldn't have to go home.
"And you should stay over tomorrow as well," he said very boldly as he sat down at his desk.
I almost laughed at his near order and the almost arrogant way he had said it. Sometimes he annoyed me when he got like that, so insistent and stubborn, it made me feel like he thought that he knew what was best for me, but I didn't mind it at all right then. Maybe because he was right this time or maybe just because I wanted to stay over anyway.
"Ok," I conceded and he stared at me for a moment like he had thought that I was going to put up a fight about it, but then looked pleased that I hadn't.
"Your cheek is bleeding," he warned me, frowning again.
I pressed the paper towel to my face again and sure enough, there were fresh spots of blood when I looked at it. Not a lot, but more than just a drop or two. The cunt had really gotten me good with those long, manicured nails of hers.
"You should have that looked at," he nagged, "At least get it cleaned."
I felt slightly annoyed at his overprotective attitude, but I brushed it off and decided to be amused instead at the thought that Relena would think he was saying that her nails weren't clean. She was petty enough to read into a comment like that.
"I'll see the nurse after homeroom," I told him and he backed off, appeased.
I kept my word, too. I made a beeline right for the nurse's office as soon as we were released from the dullness that always is homeroom. Nurse Swanson, the only nurse that actually works at our school, was as quick and nonchalant about my injuries as she was every time I went there, whether it was from a bloody nose or Zechs giving me cracked ribs, it was pretty much all the same to her. She had been doing her job for thirty years and I was sure that she had seen her fair share of bullying, or maybe she had always been that unsympathetic.
I could say that it bothered me, but it really didn't. Compared to my other teachers who gave me the cold shoulder or were repulsed by me or distrusted me or even had no problems letting me know to my face that they didn't like me because I was gay and, they thought anyway, a trouble maker, the school nurse not caring to report my injuries was more of a relief than a problem. I could go to her if I needed medical aid and not worry about having to deal with her causing trouble and she did not seem to care one way or the other about my reputation.
Just like all of the other times that I had gone to her with some injury, she didn't ask me how I could have possibly gotten those deep scratches on my face or lecture me to tell someone about it. She just cleaned the area, slathered some ointment on the wounds that stung like shit, covered them with a bandage in case they started to bleed again, and sent me on my way. I was in and out of there so fast that I was able to get to my first class on time without any fuss at all. When Heero and I walked into our marine biology class and I saw Relena already there at her seat, I fully expected her to either glare heatedly at me or sneer in triumph at the large bandage on my face. However, she didn't do either. She stoutly ignored the both of us like we weren't even there for some reason.
She acted that way through the entire class and calculus as well, not so much as making eye contact with either of us. I could live with that. I didn't have much of an appetite, but I was still relieved when the bell rang signaling the end of class and the beginning of the lunch period. It was beginning to be a struggle just to get through each block. I felt incapable of dealing with my classmates and even just trying to pay attention in class and not let my mind wander was taking a lot out of me.
Sleep deprivation isn't just about feeling tired and not having energy. I couldn't focus on anything and my thoughts kept drifting off into this nothing void. I kept thinking that I just needed to make it to lunch, then my day would be halfway done. I had no clue that it was really just beginning and by the end of the day, Relena scratching my face would be the least of my worries. Heero needed to talk to Mrs. Harkins about an extra credit assignment, so I stayed behind waiting for him until the class emptied out, everyone eager to get to the cafeteria.
I was interested in the extra credit as well, but seeing as Mrs. Harkins can't stand me, Heero seemed the better candidate to talk to her about it. I wandered to the back of the room, looking at some anti-drug posters that seem to be in every single room in this school and let the conversation that Heero and our teacher was having wash over me like white noise until it suddenly took a strange turn.
"It'll be due at the end of the week at the very latest, no exceptions," she was saying.
"Yes, Ma'am," Heero said dutifully and respectfully, a big reason why I had asked him to ask her because it was a tone that I just couldn't manage with the woman anymore, not with the snide way that she always spoke to me.
"Heero, is everything alright with you?" she asked after hesitating for a few moments, her professional tone smoothing out into one of concern.
"Yes, everything's great," he said with the same confusion that I felt listening to them.
"I know things have changed a lot for you lately. You've... changed a lot these last few months. I just want to make sure that you're alright," she said kindly.
It dawned on me, with some anger and bitterness, what problems she thought that Heero had. Because while my sexuality disgusts her, she has no real problem with Heero. She, like most of our teachers, knew him from the first impressions he had made here, as a popular but polite boy that ran in the same circles as Zechs Darlian without any of his disciplinary or behavioral problems and dating a nice, sweet girl like Relena. A boy from a good family with a great athletic record that everyone seemed to like. But recently, he bewildered her. She couldn't seem to get why he would drop all of his friends and take up with a heathen like me. Which is understandable, I guess, but what irked me was that she would rather assume that something was wrong with him than he had made friends with an outcast and therefore had become one himself.
"I'm fine," Heero told her with slight annoyance, clearly trying to stay polite while talking to her like he had been taught from childhood.
"Because if something's going on, something at home or if you're depressed or... or in a bad situation, there's no shame in talking about it," she told him, "Dropping all your friends so suddenly and taking up with..." she cut herself off, perhaps realizing that what she had just been about to say would have been in poor taste or at the very least inappropriate for a teacher, "Well, falling into a bad crowd, these are very clear warning signs to all of us. We have a very good psychiatrist here-"
Beyond the hurt and the anger and the bitterness, I felt simply amazed that she was talking to him about this when I was right there in the room with her. But that pretty much sums up how most adults that know that I'm gay treat me nowadays. Either I'm invisible because they don't want to deal with me or my feelings just don't matter. I'm less than human to some of them, after all. Not all, thankfully, but to a collective few like Harkins, I'm at the same level as some gunk that gets caught under the bottom of their shoe that can't be quite identified.
What I can't understand is why moments like this, when I'm treated like I can't hear the shit coming out of someone's mouth about me, makes me feel betrayed. I should be used to it by now, and it's not like they've ever treated me with much respect. Hell, besides the principal, Mrs. Daniels is the only teacher I've ever had that has. Realizing that, I miss her a lot. Her kind smile, how she would look at me and actually see me, how she would treat me like everyone else. Even if she had never done anything about Relena or Zechs either, she had cared and that had meant so much to me. I just hadn't realized it until I had left her behind.
"I don't need a damned psychiatrist," Heero snapped at her, suddenly losing all of his manners in the wake of his anger, "and I don't need anyone's help because there is nothing wrong with me! And I sure as hell haven't fallen in with the 'wrong crowd'. You don't even know him, so why don't you just keep your ignorant opinions to yourself!"
I couldn't help but turn and glance over at them, seeing first hand just how angry my friend was getting.
Mrs. Harkins looked taken aback by his outburst for a moment, then glared coldly at him, a bit of that disgust that she had held for me clearly in her eyes.
"This is how teenagers talk to adults these days, I suppose," she said with an angry huff, "to be rude to someone who is looking out for their best interests."
"You have no clue what my best interests even are," he growled and I could tell that there was more that he wanted to say to her, perhaps call her, but those manners of his had a tight control over his mouth.
Our teacher grabbed her things in a rush, clearly not wanting to be near the any of us any longer.
"Fine then, you obviously think that you know better than I do," she said with a chilly tone, "but I highly suggest that you watch your back, Mr. Yuy. It's only a matter of time before your... 'friend' decides to... " she did that thing again, like she was biting her tongue from saying something rather repulsive, "... take advantage of you," her eyes, as cold and sharp and impersonal as an eagle's swept over him, from head to foot, like she was trying to see something, get some kind of clue or evidence of what she was accusing me of, "If he hasn't already."
With that, she stormed out of the classroom, but I barely noticed. I was too busy feeling completely and utterly horrified. It wasn't the first time, and it sure as hell won't be the last time, that anyone has accused me of raping, or wanting to rape someone just because I'm a faggot. I'll never understand that, why being gay is synonymous to some people with sexual assault and child rape, but it's something that I've come to expect, even if it makes no sense at all to me. It's always hurt, that insinuation, that just because I like men, that means that I'm fully capable of forcing myself on someone. It hurt the very first time that Zechs accused me of it, it hurt when Trowa said that he would be willing to use that ignorance to save his own ass, and it hurts even more now that I am actually dating someone that I love.
Of course it hurts, that's a given. It's not just because it makes me realize how little the people that I've gone to school with for years actually know me, it's deeper. Recently, that accusation eviscerates me right down to the bone. Harkins isn't the first one to say that I'm going to rape to Heero, although most of the time it's said as a joke and not with the seriousness that she did, but every time I hear it, I feel like I'm going to be sick. I'm not a psychiatrist, but I don't need to be one to know why I feel that way. Before it had simply been a matter of betrayal that anyone could think that about me. Now it's because I know what it feels like, to be raped, to be abused by someone who was never supposed to even think about you like that. I know what it's like to be violated, how it destroys you from the inside out and that someone in my community can joke about something like that makes me feel like I'm going to vomit. And that someone could think that I would do that to my best friend... to Quatre or to Heero...
That's not the only thing, either. The only reason for my horror. Because as much as what my father does to me kills me, I still have that fear inside of me, that fear that one day, I'm going to become him. That fear isn't just about becoming an alcoholic or being so consumed with rage that I take it out on the people that I love or even growing up to being a loser in a dead end job in a town that I hate. I hear all those people joking that I'm likely to rape someone in the gym showers or that I might try molesting Heero and as ridiculous as those claims are, as much as I know that the idea that all homosexuals are rapists is bullshit, some tiny, fear drenched part of me wonders if it's true. It might not be true for all gays, but what about me?
What if whatever is in my father that makes him do those things to me isn't just because he's sexually frustrated or he misses being with my mother? What if it's genetic? What if it's in me? I know how stupid that sounds. I hate myself just for wanting to hit someone, how could I possibly have it in me to force myself on anyone? Hell, I don't even have a sex drive. I've never had an erection, have never successfully masturbated, and just the thought of having sex with anyone, even Heero, makes me feel ill, like my skin is crawling, so the idea that I could rape someone is ludicrous. But there will always be that tiny part of me, wondering if I could. Maybe I'll grow into it, like I grew into this rage inside of me. Maybe it's there in my genes, just waiting for the right moment to lay me low.
I can say that it will never happen, but I bet if someone had asked my father if he was capable of something like that ten years ago, he would have hit them for such a disgusting question. Sometimes I even wonder if he knows now why he does the things that he does to me. He never talks about it, never acknowledges that he fucks me. It's like a kind of insanity, this thing that he needs to do, but the second it's over, it doesn't even enter his mind. I'm sure that suits him just fine. He doesn't have to feel guilt or try to stop himself, just like with his drinking. I wonder if he even acknowledged it before, when I first started to notice this behavior, his strange looks, touching my hair, back when he had been fighting against it or maybe the fighting had just been a subconscious thing and that's why he had succumbed so easily.
I shook myself out of those thoughts. I didn't want to have them. It was too soon after feeling my father's touch, him violating me and I couldn't handle it. I kept seeing it in my head, myself doing those things to the boy that I loved and I wanted to find the nearest sharp object so I could peel my skin off, or maybe cut my dick off to eliminate the chance of me doing something like that. It wasn't like I was using it for anything other than pissing anyway, which is a whole other thing to loathe about myself that I just couldn't stand thinking about on top of everything else.
I walked over to Heero, who was still standing in place, his hands curled into shaking fists and his face pinched with rage over what Mrs. Haskins had said to him. I hadn't seen him that furious in awhile and I marveled at his self-control. If someone had accused him of the same things in front of me, I'm almost completely sure that I would have taken a swing at them and he didn't have my mental drawbacks on the subject. As I approached him, I expected my survival instinct to kick in and start screaming at me, the instinct I always get when I'm around someone who is angry and that childish part of myself feels afraid that I'm going to get hit even when I know that they aren't angry with me. It's the same instinct that rears it's ugly head when I hear anyone arguing heatedly, this stupid anxiety that makes me want to cower even when it has nothing to do with me. To be my amazement, I didn't feel that way towards Heero. He was obviously enraged, but not for a single second did I feel scared that he would hit me for any reason. Love blossomed in my chest just realizing that. Of all the people in the world, he's the one that I trust the most, the only one that I will never be scared of. That alone is enough of a reason for me to fall madly in love with him.
"It's alright," I told him in what I hoped was a soothing tone, daring to put a hand on his arm.
He didn't so much as flinch, rewarding me for my trust in him. He even relaxed his fists, although anger was still clear in his eyes.
"It isn't," he snapped, but not at me, he was still looking at the spot that Mrs. Harkins had vacated, "She had no right to say any of that. Not even behind my back. She doesn't know a single thing about you! And she's a teacher! How can she say such... such horrible things! Who the hell does she think she is?!"
He was so mad that he almost sounded like he was senselessly rambling.
"A very closed minded, old fashioned person," I answered, "It doesn't have anything to do with logic or knowledge, Heero, you know that. You could quote hundreds of statistics and facts about homosexuality and point out to her that I've never done anything remotely like what she's accusing me of and it wouldn't matter. People are going to believe whatever they want, you can't change someone's mind if they don't want you to. She's always going to hate me and feel repulsed by me, no matter who I really am."
"You deserve better than that," he said sadly, "You're a wonderful person and even if she can't see that, that doesn't give her a right to say those things right in front of you. If she can't pull her head out of her ass, then she should just keep her opinions to herself."
I almost chuckled at that and was again bowled over at how different we are, not even just different but polar opposites. At times, Heero can be just as pragmatic as I am, but on the whole, he is a total idealist. He thinks that the world and everyone in it should act a certain way and he gets angry when it doesn't, like when he sees the way that I'm treated. He gets offended on my behalf and whenever I try to brush it off as 'it is the way it is', his immediate response is always 'well, it shouldn't be.' It's equal parts frustrating and endearing.
"Yeah, well, she'd treat you like that if she knew that you're gay, too," I pointed out, "She can say what she likes. It doesn't make it true, you know that, don't you?"
I couldn't help the spark of fear that went through me, even though I knew that I was being ridiculous. Of course Heero didn't think that I was capable of doing that to him, taking advantage. He was gay, too, and that accusation was just as much thrown at him as it was at me, but I still felt this irrational worry. I never wanted him to be scared of me, not about anything, whether it was my problems with anger and violence or even some terrible rumor.
"Of course not," he said softly.
He reached over and took my hand in his. He meant for it to be a gesture of comfort and affection, but I reacted badly, pulling my hand away like his touch was burning me and stepping away from him, my eyes wide with shock and fear.
"Don't do that!" I snapped at him and while it hurt me to see pain flash across his face, I didn't regret my actions, "Someone is going to see us!"
I looked to the open door that we were standing right in front of and at the crowd of people, both classmates and teachers, making their way to the cafeteria. It didn't look like anyone had seen the brief moment when Heero had been holding my hand and looking at me so tenderly, but it was impossible to tell. There were too many people and the moment had passed too quickly. Someone could have, quite easily and clearly, and Heero had been totally oblivious to what a public place we were in.
"So what?" he asked testily, "We aren't doing anything wrong. Who cares if I touch your hand?"
"Are you fucking joking?!" I nearly sputtered and tried to keep my voice down, really not wanting to have this kind of conversation where we were and the only thing that was saving us from being overheard was all the loud talking and happy screaming coming from the hallway. People could see us arguing, but they wouldn't be able to hear us unless they walked into the classroom, "The whole freaking town would care if just one person saw us holding hands! Did you just forget what Mrs. Harkins said to you? What do you think would happen if even a single person found out that we're together?! Do you think that they'd pat you on the back and say 'hey, congrats on dating the local faggot'?! Do you want them to accuse you of being fudge-packing, boy rapist, too?!"
I was aware that I was on the verge of some kind of angry panic attack, but I didn't care beyond just keeping a tight control over the volume of my voice, if not the things that I was saying. I was just so taken aback by him, by his boldness and what little situational awareness he had. He had just complained about our teacher accusing me of those things, but he had no sense of protecting himself against that? He was the same person that had hid his true nature from everyone to keep this very thing from happening, and there he was, not even realizing how dangerous his actions were! If I had even thought about holding Trowa's hand in public, he would have punched my lights out!
"Duo-" Heero started to say and I could see his frustration and that he was going to argue this with me and I refused to stand for it.
"No," I snapped at him again, "How can you not get this? You can't do things like this, not if you want to stay in the closet! I know it's hard, but you have to pretend that we're still just friends. If anyone even suspects that we're seeing each other, everyone will start believing it! They'll all find out that you're gay and nothing you do will be able to convince them otherwise, don't you understand?! You think things are bad now? They'll be a thousand times worse if that happens! You won't just be a fag lover, you'll be a fag, and everything they do to me, they'll do to you!"
"Yeah, and?" he asked me flippantly, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at me in defiance.
I stared right back at him in astonishment, looking at him like was some kind of alien creature that I had no hope of ever comprehending.
"'And'?" I echoed numbly, not quite understanding what he was saying and thinking that he really didn't get what the problem was, but no one could possibly be that thick.
He huffed with frustration and strode over to the door, slamming it shut, and walked back to me. The sound of the door slamming closed made me jump, but no one in the hall seemed to notice. It rewarded us some privacy, but not much considering that there was small window in the door. Still, it was better than nothing, I supposed. Heero stood in front of me, still with that angry and defiant look on his face.
"Do you remember what I told you after we became friends and you wanted to hide that from everyone so I wouldn't be bullied?" he asked me, his body rigid with tension.
I shook my head, unable to come up with any words.
"I told you that I'm not ashamed to hang out with you and I'm not ashamed to be dating you, either," he said a bit forcefully, "I'm not going to act like I am just so I can be safe while you're getting the brunt of all this shit. That isn't what being in a relationship is."
"This isn't about being ashamed!" I tried to argue even as I felt this intense warmth in me at his words, that he wanted to share my pain and that he didn't feel ashamed of me.
"Isn't it?" he shot right back at me and took a deep breath, his tone smoothing out a little, "I'm not your ex. I barely know anything about him, but I do know that I never want to be like him. I don't want to comfortably hide how I feel about you when you don't even have that luxury, all because I don't want people to look down on me. They already do just because we're friends, so how would this be any worse? And even if it is, I don't care. I can't stand seeing what they do to you and knowing that we're the same, but I'm safe. Do you know what that feels like? Wanting to protect you, but putting my own fears ahead of the person that I care about?
"I never stayed in the closet because I was ashamed of my sexuality, Duo," he pointed out, "I stayed because I was afraid for my well being. But how can I keep that fear when you're living it's reality? But mostly, I can't pretend that I don't care about you that way. I don't want to temper myself and hide behind a lie. I want to be able to hold hands with you like every other couple can. I know we can never have what they have. We can't be that open and vulnerable without repercussions, but I still want to be able to call you my boyfriend out loud. I want to be able to take you out to dinner or to a movie and not have to insist that we're only friends."
He reached out and grabbed my hand again, this time tighter. I tried to pull away from him like before in a knee-jerk reaction, but he refused to let me go this time.
"I love you," he said with such earnest passion that my heart fucking burned with it, "I don't care what the town thinks or what anyone does to me for daring to love you, but I do care what you think. I don't want you to doubt me, not even for a second. I don't want you to feel like I'm ashamed of you or that I'm anything like that asshole that you used to date, too scared of outing myself to help you when you need it, willing to throw you under the bus while I get out scott free. That's not who I am and that's not what I want this relationship to be. I want to be your boyfriend. I want everyone to know that."
"They'll hurt you," I whispered in agony, thinking about what Zechs and Relena would do if they found out that not only is Heero gay, but he was with me of all people.
"They already have," he said solemnly, "Every time they go after you for being gay, they hurt me, too. They already bully me for being your friend, let them bully me for loving you, too, it's only fair. I'm not afraid of the bullying anymore, Duo. I'm afraid of losing you by letting you doubt me."
"You won't," I insisted, "I know that you aren't ashamed of me, you don't have to out yourself to prove it! Do you really think that I want you to put yourself in harm's way for me?"
"No, but maybe I want to. Maybe I need to prove this to myself, that I can do right by you, that I won't make the same mistakes that your ex did. My fears of that happening are a hell of a lot worse than being afraid of some beatings. Besides," he smiled softly at me, lessening his grip on my hand without letting it go, his touch pleasant, almost like a caress, "I like holding your hand."
"You're crazy," I muttered, but it was only to hide the small smile that I couldn't seem to get rid of.
"They say that love can do that to a person," he chuckled, "Come on, if we don't hurry, they'll run out of meatballs and I bet you didn't bring any lunch today."
"Didn't feel like it," I admitted, blushing a little as I realized that he knew me that well that I wouldn't bring lunch when I was sleep deprived.
"I'll pay," he told me in a way that would broker no argument.
The cafeteria was full to the brim by the time that we got there, although our table was empty, just as it always was. Even when the place was swamped and people had to cram in to the tables, no one sat at ours. No one wanted to take a seat at the fag table. I really can't wait for spring when they open the outer doors and we're allowed to eat out on the field, but it was still covered in snow at that point, so Heero and I were stuck inside with the rest of our wonderful classmates.
Heero slipped me a five dollar bill and I braved the long line for my lunch. Mondays and Fridays are the worst days to get a school lunch. Friday is pizza, burgers and fries day while Mondays they serve either spaghetti or, my personal favorite, meatball subs. While the rest of the meals are pretty... well, gross, especially the meatloaf, turkey pies, and the lasagna should actually be considered a sentient life form, the meatballs subs are pretty damned good for a cafeteria meal. Nothing to write home about, maybe, but they're edible and filling and come with a cup of decently fresh fruit. The money awarded me a carton of milk, a salad, and the dessert of the day, which turned out to be a vanilla pudding cup, not a bad meal for five bucks. I might not have much of an appetite, but I wasn't going to turn my nose up at free food.
Heero was well into his own lunch by the time that I sat down with my loaded tray, a tuna sandwich, yogurt, some carrot sticks, and homemade oatmeal cookies. He slipped one of them onto my tray as I poked my meatball sub with a fork to get all of it into the bun.
"Thanks," I gave him a small smile and took a bite out of the sub.
"At least you're eating like a normal person and not a bird today," he quipped.
I childishly stuck my tongue out at him. As I was about to take another bite, he reached over and wrapped his fingers around my left hand. I paused, a thrill of panic shooting through me and I found his eyes with my own, looking at me intently as though he were asking me for my permission. I wanted to scream at him to stop, that he didn't know what he was doing, but I didn't. He did know. This was what he had decided, right? And even though everything in my head was screaming at me about how dangerous this was, I was happy. I was so overjoyed, I could have cried. Because even if I thought that he was being foolish, Heero had decided that this was what he wanted, not to hide, not to lie or pretend, but to just do what he wanted, to be who he had always really been without flinching away. To love me, even when it wasn't convenient. Something that Trowa had never had the desire, or courage, to do. In that moment, I thought it was hysterical that Heero calls himself a coward when he's the bravest man that I've ever known.
"Are you sure?" I asked him very shyly.
He smiled reassuringly at me.
"More sure about this than I have been about almost anything else," he confessed.
I smiled back at him and curled my fingers around his. If he could do this, then I could, too. His courage could make me brave. I would do exactly what he had decided to, to stand by him and protect him from everything that I could, to fight for this relationship of ours, even if it hurt me in the end.
"Thank you," I murmured, realizing fully well that he was doing this for me, for us, exposing himself in that way.
A part of me was terrified that I was dooming him to some horrible fate. Wasn't this why I had almost broken up with him on Saturday, to spare him from ruining his reputation, all because of me? But this was his choice, and who was I to be so arrogant as to say that it was wrong or he was mistaken? I couldn't make decisions for him, I know that. If this was what he wanted, then I would follow him like the loyal dog that I am. I would follow him through anything, for as long as I could, and I would do anything that he wanted, even if I was scared of the cost.
I suddenly heard the boys at the table behind us fall silent and I knew, without having to turn around, that they were staring at us, perhaps glaring. We were being discreet, especially compared to other couples, but they could clearly see that we were holding hands. Or maybe it was the tender, affectionate way that Heero was looking at me. I couldn't tell. I could only feel hateful eyes on us. But I didn't pull my hand away and neither did Heero. 'I can do this', I told myself, even as I could feel myself tremble a little with fear. Heero felt it too and gripped my hand tighter, helping me through it. It wasn't going to be ok, I knew, but I could still face it like I had faced everything else, couldn't I? Because even if I was frightened, I was also happy that Heero continued to hold my hand, continued to meet my gaze without looking away in shame or shyness like Trowa had done.
You know, I didn't realize it until that moment in the cafeteria, just how much Trowa's secrecy had hurt me. I understood what Heero had told me before, about how this had everything to do with shame, and he was right. Trowa hadn't just cheated on me and hid his relationship with me to blend in and keep from being bullied. He had done it because he had been ashamed. Ashamed of me, our relationship, his sexuality, and even his feelings for Quatre. It had taken me years to realize it, but that was the real reason why he had never confessed his feelings to my best friend and why he had turned away from him the day that he had killed himself. He had been ashamed of something that I found beautiful.
I felt sorry for him. To go through your life and feel that much shame towards something that you could never change, something that made you you, that had to be a kind of hell, didn't it? But I also hated him for it. He had been ashamed of us and in treating me the way he had, hiding us, pretending, lying, and betraying me, he had made me feel ashamed, too, I just hadn't consciously realized it. I had looked at our relationship as something that maybe should be a secret, not because I cared what other people thought of me, but because some part of me felt that I was doing something wrong. Only the wrongness wasn't just that he had been my best friend's crush, or even that I didn't love him like I was supposed to, but the secrecy itself had felt so wrong to me. Subconsciously I had thought that, if he felt the need to hide us, then there was a good reason for that. If he was ashamed of me, then maybe he should be.
I realized that day in the cafeteria that I didn't want that with Heero. Even if it painted targets on our backs, I didn't want our relationship in the shadows because Heero is right. He isn't Trowa and I never want him to be. I love him too much to reduce him to how Trowa had made me feel, like a whore that you go to when your wife is asleep in bed, a secret affair that you need to sate some hidden part of yourself, a thing that you need to be ashamed of. Because I will never be ashamed of Heero, no matter what happens, no matter how this relationship ends.
And he's right about something else. Even if it gets me killed, even if Relena comes after me over it, I want them all to know. Not out of some sort of pettiness. I just want them to know how wrong they all are. About homosexuality. About me. Or maybe it's simpler than that. Maybe it's just like Heero said and I like holding his hand. I just hope that doing so won't get either of us killed.
End Part 11
Author's Note (important): These apologies are getting old, but I once again must say that I am sorry to everyone who has been waiting for an update. I put this part on hold for a few days so I could work on publishing my very first novel. Yup, after four years, I finally did it, the fairy tale based, gay erotica that I was working on has been published as an e-book on Amazon. It is called 'A Stray Cat in Faerie Tale Land' and it is on sale for a buck. To those interested in reading it, I can't post a link here but you can find it very easily by typing that title in the Amazon search. It's the only item called that, so it comes up right away. Or I can link it in an email. I would highly appreciate anyone buying a copy, since no one has yet, and if you do, to write a review, which would help sales a lot. If you have any questions about the book and what it contains, you can PM or email me and I'd be all too happy to talk about it. Even if no one buys it, I'm really proud to have published something. It took me a long time just to get the courage to do it.
Another piece of real life news: after being unemployed the last six months, I have decided to move back to the boston area. While I will miss Florida and my girlfriend, I can't deny that I am having a lot of problems right now with depression and feeling like a useless leech. So I am returning to my homeland in hopes that I can get a good job and move back in with my best friend. I will be in a really bad mood for quite some time, what with moving back in with my parents and niece and will lose all the quiet and privacy that I have had here. That being said, I am still going to try to keep this word count up, so updates shouldn't suffer too much, I hope.
