Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Gundam Wing

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Gundam Wing. And with the way Duo's acting, I don't know that I want to….

Walking the Dividing Line

Part 7

The door slid shut, and I was left staring at the empty shell that had once been Duo Maxwell. That had once –

That had once laughed with me, that had once held me and told me to get better soon because he needed me to, that had once cared about me.

I knew he hadn't cared about me by the time I'd left, and he most certainly didn't care about me now.

I couldn't stand that he meant so much, or that it hurt so much and that my stomach was cold and empty when I looked at those barren blue eyes. I had nothing else left besides him, and no defense against the fact that he didn't care any more.

I had only one thing left. One thing that I knew for sure.

"You're not Duo," I spat at him, looking down at the lean form that was clothed in garments I'd never seen Duo wear, the long brown chestnut hair cascading down his back as Duo had never really let even me see it, the blue eyes sparkling with something that I'd never seen in Duo's eyes.

"You're not Duo," I repeated. "He's dead."

Silence. Then, "You know," he said, reaching over and picking up one of the knives laid out on the table, its silver blade glinting in the harsh light as he held it up to inspect its edge, "I'm getting sick of hearing that."

And he strode over to me, so that his nose was practically millimeters from mine – I could feel his breath across my lips, see the blue-black of his eyes – eyes that weren't Duo's – and feel the heat from his chest – and stopped, hovering there for a long moment.

"Shut up," he said icily, tone cold and hard and biting.

And he lifted the blade, and slid it lightly across my mouth.

It *hurt*.

I could feel my eyes widen in shock as it pulled away; my mouth was already filling with blood, and I spat it out onto the ground even as he stepped away, fingering the blade as if to test the effect the crimson fluid had on it. He ran his index finger along the edge, lifting it to examine its tip in the light.

He smiled and chucked just a bit, softly to himself, as he went over to the table and set the blade down where he'd gotten it. He then lifted his bloodstained finger to his mouth, turning around and looking at me, eyes glinting as he licked the liquid off slowly, deliberately. Seductively.

It just made me hate her even more, somehow. What had she *done* to him? All I knew was that this wasn't Duo. It couldn't be, it just wasn't possible. Duo was dead. Gone. And I didn't know who this person was, and even though he looked like Duo… he wasn't. He just wasn't Duo.

But… why did he still matter so much to me?

I knew why, but I couldn't admit that to myself because then I would have lost everything. And I wasn't going to let her – or him, whoever this empty person was – win.

"So, are you going to behave now?" he asked, eyeing me with those icy eyes, colder than even Heero's.

I just glared at him, silently daring him to carry out any of the million unspoken threats I could hear in his voice. I didn't care – I had nothing left to live for. I had betrayed too many people too many times. I had no worth, no identity. No loyalties.

No friends.

And now Duo was dead, his mind gone, re-spun into this horrifying sick and twisted version of himself that stood before me. The Shinigami had been killed, just as he had killed me before. Just as he was killing me now.

He sighed, a loud, fake sigh that was overly dramatic. "I can see," he said slowly, turning his back to me to examine the table before him, littered with so many blades that I couldn't count them from here, "that you don't mean to behave."

He turned, holding up a foot-long, curved silver blade. He held the leather-wrapped handle delicately as he approached, again coming to within inches of my face.

"I will make you behave," he informed me, lifting the blade so that its edge just touched my left cheek. Even though he wasn't applying pressure, I could feel its razor-sharp edge, and a small trickle of blood suddenly ran down my face and fell into my mouth, leaving an iron-sharp taste on my tongue.

He smiled, that same icy smile that seemed to pervade my tattered memory, whether it was on the face of the woman who'd first kidnapped me, or Giniko, or now Duo. No. This wasn't Duo. This wasn't Duo this wasn't Duo this wasn't –

He kissed me – I could feel my eyes widen as he forced his mouth down upon mine, replacing passion with pressure, and suddenly I was aware that the deeper he took the kiss, the deeper he was pressing the blade into my skin. The pain suddenly registered as the skin broke and my mouth abruptly filled with blood – the taste only made him push the knife in deeper, push his lips against mine harder.

The initial wave of shock passed and I was immediately struggling against him, angry and horrified at what he was doing. How *dare* he -!

He pulled away abruptly, leaving me sputtering, spitting out more blood, my cheek burning as he slid the knife down to my chin and pulled it away after him in one long, smooth stroke. I stared at him, at those smug blue eyes and blood-smeared mouth.

"You're – " I began, but there was a motion and a flash of silver and before I knew what had happened he'd deftly sliced that same cheek in the opposite direction, crossing his initial cut and causing such burning, piercing pain that I couldn't bring myself to finish my sentence. Words forgotten, I continued to stare at him, face smeared with my blood, knife still held delicately in the fingers of his right hand.

"Oh, come now," he pouted, face suddenly contorting with fake disappointment, "don't give me that look."

"Give –"

Slash –

"Me –"

Slash –

"The –"

Slash –

"Respect –"

Slash –

"I –"

Slash –

"Deserve!"

With one last swipe down my right forearm, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. I could only try to concentrate on breathing and holding back the hot tears threatening to spill out as he surveyed with pride the slashes down each of my arms, my flesh torn and my blood pooling on the slick metal floor beneath my feet.

I was feeling lightheaded from pain and blood loss and the room was beginning to get cold. I could hear that my breathing had become ragged, but somehow in the red haze of half-coherence that was beginning to descend upon me I just didn't care.

I heard his voice, somewhere far away, off in the distance.

"Fine, go ahead, lose consciousness now. It's the last time I'll afford you that comfort."

And I was gone.

* * *

*SLAP*

My eyes flew open, an involuntary cry escaping my mouth as I was slapped across the left cheek. The pain brought tears to my eyes, saline stinging just as sharply as my cheek.

All I could see was blue on black but it was empty –

Duo pulled away from me, examining the cross-shaped bloodstain tainting the pale skin of his palm.

And then he lifted his other hand and slashed the newly-closed cuts open again with the knife he was holding.

"Ahh!"

He stood, ignoring my cry, and went over to the table. I watched his back through my hazy vision; my head was pounding and I didn't know how long I'd been out. The hatred, however, was beginning to well up over the pain, and I began to remember what had happened before.

"So," she said, turning and walking towards the door, "now that I've had my fun, I leave you in your precious Duo-chan's hands."

I hated her. I hated her and I hated him and I wanted out. I wanted out right now.

He came back over to me, something small and grey in his hand, and hit the keypad that controlled the shackle holding my left wrist in place. It slid open – but before I could even move my hand to strike him he'd grabbed my wrist and turned me, pinning it with his left hand against the wall beside my right hand, so that my back was turned to him.

My t-shirt was already ripped; he pulled the bottom of it up to my neck, exposing the bare skin of my back to him, and somehow held that in his left hand as well while still holding my hand to the wall.

And something clicked, and I felt heat –

He had a lighter. What the hell was he –

"Ahh – Duo, *stop* it!!" I screamed as he slowly trailed the flame across my back.

And then I stopped screaming because I couldn't think any more, because all I could feel and see was the flame, red-hot and dancing across my skin and all I could feel were the blisters and burns it was leaving in its wake –

I was vaguely aware of my chin hitting my chest –

*SLAP*

I felt more blood drip down my chin and saw it spatter onto the stained metal floor, mixing bright red with the rust-colored blotches already there, mixing new blood with old.

"I didn't say," his voice whispered, as he leaned closer and the flame burned me hotter and I could feel my eyes widen and I gasped and I wanted to scream, "that you could lose consciousness this time."

My back hurt my back hurt my back hurt –

He was working his way down, leaving no piece of skin untouched –

I bit my lip so hard it opened the cut he'd already made there as well and I could taste blood again –

I felt my eyes fall closed –

*SLAP*

I coughed from all the blood pooling in my mouth and my vision was going white from the pain –

*SLAP*

He abruptly clicked the lighter off and in one swift motion slammed me back around against the wall, shackling my left wrist back in place.

I was trying not to scream from the shockwave of pain that was still coursing through me, a result of his slamming my burned back against the hard metal wall. I was biting my lip again, blood pooling in my mouth and I spat it out again, slowly opening my eyes and trying to focus through the bright white spots dancing before me.

I could barely see his figure approaching me, and suddenly he'd grabbed my hair and had lifted my head so that I was forced to stare him in the face.

I glared at him as best I could, the room spinning and my head somehow spinning in the opposite direction, I wanted to just lose it and fall away but dammit he wouldn't let me.

"Why… are you…?" I managed to spit out at him, but it hurt to talk and he grinned down at me as if he knew that.

"Why, Ali-chan?" he asked, bending down, eyes boring into mine, not letting me go until all I could see was the empty blue of his irises and all I could hear was his voice as he told me, "Because I like it."

I knew he was holding my head up but it didn't matter any more because I was falling…