Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing; don't sue me. K? k.
Warnings: Mild swearing, cutting.
Rating: R (adult situation: cutting)
Notes: If this chapter seems totally odd, guess what? It is. Duo's going through some new emotions since his last encounter with Heero. Fuuu. I'm sorry. The story is gonna take a new tone/mood/whatever. Oh, and sorry for taking so long. I'm barely alive. Hehe. _;
How You Gonna Handle?
written by Sakura Maxwell
Chapter 4
Indifferent Maybes
So it's been two days since the incident involving alcohol and me. Everyone seems to have calmed down, but they aren't letting me in the small bar until…eh, until they think it's okay. Whatever. I can still go out and pass out in a public bar. The only thing wrong about that is I'm bound to get…sexually assaulted. I shudder and look out the window of the moving car. Quatre decided that we should all go out to a restaurant and enjoy ourselves since we haven't been out in quite some time. My alcohol incident has been, oh, overlooked for the most part. I guess they think that keeping away from that section of the mansion will solve it. Feh. Whatever. Let them live in their own ignorance.
I tug at my white collar, not too pleased at having to wear something as formal as a suit. At least Quatre let me wear my trademark color black. Trowa is driving, and Quatre is making idle chit chat with him. Wufei and Heero, always the silent ones, are merely staring out the window or the seat in front of them. It kind of sucks that I have to sit in the back with them. Oh well. They don't have to worry about me being my usual annoying self. I feel kind of…dead today. I can't explain why. I just…do. Ah, dead with dread. Maybe because on that day they found me unconscious, they moved me. Moved me. They must have seen the cuts. How could they not? I don't even know who moved me. Maybe only one of them saw them, maybe all of them. Maybe they're not saying anything. Maybe they're lying to me and are actually taking me to the hospital. Maybe they didn't even see.
Yeah, right.
My distress must be noticeable to an extent because I hear Wufei mutter, "Stop bouncing your leg up and down. You're shaking the seat."
I laugh nervously and say, "Heh, sorry about that Wuff. It's just so boring in this car. There's nothing to do." His eyes roll and turn back to the other cars rushing by. Not like he was interested in any of those. I bet he was off in his own land. I wish I could lose myself in my own land. Somehow, at this moment, I can't. Must because the number one person on my shit list is sitting right next to me, right in the middle between me and Wufei.
I eye him with contempt for a few seconds, then turn my attention to the cars as well. I can feel his eyes lingering on me. It's not a nice feeling. I wish he would stop.
Soon we enter a parking lot. Trowa grabs his parking ticket and drives through the parking lot maze until he finds an empty stall. We all climb out of the car and I stretch a bit. I don't like being cooped up. Especially with him.
Quatre takes the lead as we enter the fancy restaurant and talks with the man at the front. Meanwhile, I tap my foot nervously and look at the many paintings on the wall. I wonder if people donate them. I guess I shouldn't really be nervous. We're really at a restaurant and not a hospital. But what if we're meeting a doctor here? A psychiatrist.
A psychiatrist? Pff, you must be kidding me. Like a psychiatrist could or would be willing to help me.
We're led to our table and given menus. Ah, an Italian restaurant. Great. I want pizza. But of course they won't have the Americanized version of it. Arr. I order the smallest thing on the menu, a pasta, and wait for the others to give theirs. I know they're wondering why I didn't order more. I mean, I'm usually the food vacuum. Eh, whatever.
As the waiter walks away with our orders, Quatre tries to conjure up some conversation. I inwardly sigh, not up to sounding like my normal self, all cheery and stuff, but if I didn't, then they'd know I wasn't feeling right. So I managed to crack a few jokes and make Wufei mad a bit. We managed to make the time pass quicker, and found plates of wonderful smelling food on our table. Well, normally I would think that, but I felt my stomach churning. I really didn't feel like eating. Not that much. God, I thought the pasta was smaller, but…well…god.
I picked up my fork and proceeded to stick noodle in my mouth. Well, at least I'm enjoying the food. I still can't get over it, though. Me feeling like this. I haven't felt like this for quite some time. Usually just sad and enraged, but never…dreadful. I shrug it off and eat some more.
"What's wrong, Maxwell?" Wufei suddenly asks. I look up. "Usually you're scarfing down whatever food is in your path, but we've been eating for at least ten minutes and more than half of that pasta remains. Are you--"
"I--I'm fine, Wufei," I respond. "Just…still feeing kind of sick."
"From?"
"Heero said he was sick two days ago," Trowa explained. "Whatever virus is infecting his body hasn't totally wore off."
"…Oh. That makes sense; he's calling me by my real name…" I hear Wufei say under his breath. He returns to his plate and continues eating.
"I totally forgot!" exclaims Quatre, his face worried. "I'm sorry, Duo. Do you want to go back home? Oh, we should take you to a doc--"
"It's okay!" I interrupt in panic. Quatre looks at me with concern. So does everyone else. Great, I've earned everyone's attention. I put my fork down and stand up. "I…I'm sorry, Quatre. I'm not sick enough to go to a doctor. Wouldn't want to waste their time, now would we?" He shakes his head slightly. "Right. So, um…I'm just gonna go outside for a while, okay? I feel kind of cramped in here." He nods and I can tell they're all watching me as I exit the restaurant. I shudder and lean against the wall.
Go to a doctor? Please, no. The doctor would examine me, tell me to take off my top. Then what? He'd see all my scars, especially the recent cuts. Then he'd tell the guys and then… Oh, God, I don't even want to think about it. Who would? …They would be disgusted with me. Horrified. Maybe they already know. I can't keep my mind off of that thought. That horrible thought that they might know. I sigh and slide down to the ground. I'm going to have to keep Heero away from my room for a while, and make sure he doesn't spill the beans if they truly don't have a clue about my cutting habit.
Heero…
I smirk and shake my head in dismay. I used to like him and I think I still do, to some extent. But now whenever I'm near him I feel so…angry. Probably because he never listens to me, and that time when he opened the door just kind of set me off. No one takes me seriously, and he was the one to make me burst. It could have been any one of them, but I probably ended up hating him more than I would the others because I like him. Man, that is so screwed up. I am so screwed up. I pull my knees up to my chest and hug them tightly. But as long as Heero doesn't tell anyone, I'm safe, right? Despite his odd behavior the past few days, a part of me can still trust him not to tell. Weird, isn't it?
A sigh escapes my mouth as I hear the restaurant door open and close. Well, better get back inside before people think I'm some kind of screwed up bum with nice clothes. I release the hold on my knees but before I can get up a pair of legs appears in front of me. My eyes narrow as Heero kneels down to my level. He looks uncomfortable. Well, so am I with him being this close.
"Duo, I'm so…" His voice trails off as I look the other way, not giving him the attention he wants. He sighs and tries again. "I'm sorry about…that night. I… I was just worried about you and… Well, I wanted to stop you from hurting yourself."
"So you kissed me to make me stop," I say, still not looking at him. "You couldn't of, oh, I dunno, taken the razor away from me instead? Why did you have to kiss me? That's like, cheating Relena you know." I open an eye to peek at him. He looks at the dirty ground and sighs again.
"Must you bring Relena into this? She's no--"
"She's your future wife," I state flatly. "Why shouldn't I bring her into this? You go and kiss guys behind her back. I think I deserve to know why."
Heero's eyes widen, then return to their normal size. "You… You don't get it, do you?" he asks softly.
"Get what? That you're a cheating, lying, gay bastard?" I retort.
He closes his eyes and his hand clenches on the ground. "Almost everyone can tell but you. In the same way, everyone could tell how you felt about me except me." He looks up at me. "Duo, look at me." I refuse. "Look at me, Duo," he repeats, grabbing my face none too kindly and forcing me to look at him. "You used to like me, didn't you?"
I'm speechless. I never thought he would be able to say something like that so…easily. Well, I guess this isn't very easy for him, but it doesn't look like it's killing him either. I thought he would never bring something like this up. Never. I don't know what to say. I just stare at him, unable to say anything. He stares back, patiently waiting for his answer.
"That's right," I finally say. "I used to like you. I can't believe what an idiot I was to like someone like you. Well, I'm glad you finally realized it. A bit too late now, but better late than never, right?"
Heero is hurt by those words. Even though he's trying hard to keep his serious features, I can tell I really hurt him.
Why should I care? He hurt me too. Ignored me, never took me seriously, never tried to help me. He didn't do a thing for me except save my ass when we were still fighting in our gundams. Damn him, it was always about the fucking missions. Always, always, always. Never me. But why should it be about me? His missions were worth a hell of a lot more than me. Relena too. He always saved her ass. She always made him save her ass. What a bitch.
"Of course…" Heero mumbles, "You hate me now, right? You said that. You hate me because I kissed you."
"I hate you because you don't give me any respect," I correct. "You didn't listen to me when I told you not to come in the bathroom, you taunted me when I wanted my sheets back, you had the nerve to come back into my room… I mean, Jesus Christ, do you know what privacy means?" I'm all rustled up now. Damn. I don't want to return like this and have them poking me questions. I stiffly stand up and proceed to go back inside, but Heero catches my arm and firmly grips it. Slowly, I turn my head to look at him, my eyes showing total apathy.
"Please," Heero says, his face scruntched up in agony. "Please, Duo, tell me. Do you really hate me?"
I ignore him; his grip relaxes. I push the doors of the restaurant open and sit down at our table without saying a word. No one questions me about how long I've been outside. They keep their idle chatting as if I didn't come back, which is fine by me. Maybe they can feel my vibes wishing for everyone to leave me alone. Time passes by sluggishly and it's finally okay to leave. As we're standing up, Quatre's cell phone goes off; he answers it, nods, then puts it away.
"Heero's gonna be outside with the car," he says. He follows Trowa out the restaurant, Wufei behind them. I bring up the rear with a rather decent sized gap between us, and climb into the backseat. Trowa and Quatre also climb in the back. We didn't even leave the restaurant when Quatre asks, "Heero, where were you all that time?" He also glances at me and I shrug carelessly, turning to face the window. "Heero?" But he wouldn't get answer. Sighing, I felt him lean back into his seat and start whispering to Trowa.
I frown. That idiot probably stood out there all that time we were inside. It doesn't matter to me, though.
I can't say I really hate him. Although I do dislike him, hate isn't exactly what I'm feeling. That night I was caught up in a rush of confusing emotions; I cried out things I don't think I really meant. At that moment, when he ...kissed me, I did in fact hate him. But now? ...No, I don't think so. It's all jumbled up. I can't feel anything right now. Ugh. This feeling of total apathy.
No, it's not apathy, it's something else. But what? I can't tell.
The rain starts coming down with more force; the windshield wipers are turned on. Outside is grey and miserable, people running for shelter, whipping out their umbrellas if they have one. I let out a quiet sigh and it momentarily fogs up some of the window. I turn my attention to my hands, eyes lingering over my concealed wrists. My mind keeps repeating the same questions: What if they know? Is this how they're reacting to me if they really do know? How am I going to keep living like this, wondering for eternity if they know? My hands clench into a fist, then out, and I return my gaze outside the window.
I see the mansion coming up, and Heero parks the car into the garage. We go inside. Wufei yawns. It must be around ten or so. The food made him tired. He and the couple all retire to their rooms, waving good night. I wave back and can't help but feel a little left out. I suppose that's unfair of me to think like that, considering that I've been quite distant with them for the past couple of days, but... Well, I don't know. I stretch out my arms and let out a yawn; I've been pretty tired too. I guess it's because I'm not really doing anything. I trudge up the stairs, Heero shadowing me, and go to my room. He enters his without a word; I hear his door close behind him, echoing mine. Shuddering, I strip and step into the shower, turning the hot water on. I'm sure Heero can hear this, seeing as his room is right next to mine. I wonder what he's thinking. He's wondering if I'm going to hurt myself, probably. Well...
Eyeing the glass cabinet, I see my own pale, emotionless face staring back at me. Is that what I really look like? Did I look like that the whole day? Oh god. They definitely know something is wrong with me, something worse than a mere cold. Ugh. How am I going to solve all of this?
As if those words triggered something within me, I reach out and open the cabinet. There was the bag of razors, silently beckoning me to use one of them on me. I grab one and sit inside the shower, staring at the small blade, and start gliding it over my arm, like I was set on autopilot. I run it over my left arm over and over again, harder and harder, until red liquid streams from it, dripping down onto the shower floor. It flows with the warm water down into the drain. I watch in awe as more and more of that crimson spills, disappearing with the water. Unaware, I drop the razor; it makes a little clang noise. It awakens me from my so called dream world and I slowly push myself up, leaning against the tile wall for support. My left arm hangs limp at my side as I turn the water off. I literally fall out of the shower and immediately wrap my towel around my bleeding arm. I can hardly see anything but sparkles of color, and my head starts to bang furiously. Staggering out of the bathroom I pull a large white sleeping shirt over me
and collapse onto my bed, losing consciousness.
--
:x
*runs*
7.14.03