Breaking the Habit
By: Rashalla Entalio
Rated R for YAOI and SELF-HARM

Pairings: Heero Yuy/Duo Maxwell (it'll get there, I promise) and allusions to Trowa Barton/ Quatre Winner

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of the associated terms, characters or places. This was written for personal use and was not intended as copyright infringement. The within plotline is mine, or if it has been done before (which is very likely) then it is not meant as plagiarism. This story may be archived and downloaded with the author's explicit permission.

I also do not own any part of the song, "Breaking the Habit". Linkin Park wrote and performed this song. To see the full copyright information look on the back of a Meteora CD or contact me through e-mail

Don't steal, don't sue and every one goes home happy!

Warnings: This story includes R-rated material that may not be suitable for young children. The within story is based around the concept of self- harm/self-mutilation (i.e. cutting); it also contains yaoi (i.e. male/male relationships). If either of these things disturbs you, then please do not read this. Any anti-yaoi or anti-cutting comments will be deleted, as that is what this fic is based on. I will not be held responsible at this point for causing someone to squick because of the obsessive warnings I have out on this.

This chapter is dedicated to ShinigamiPhoenix for the longest reviews (Yay!). Once again, if you haven't read "Jittery" it's definitely a must read.

Also, if you haven't read "Shinigami Sleeps: A Duo and Trowa Story" by The Manwell, I highly recommend it. It is 2x3x2 slash, and is wonderfully written.

A/N: This story takes place after the war and Endless Waltz (the Mariemaia Incident). The year is AC 197, making the boys seventeen, except for Trowa who is 19 (all of the character descriptions of him that I've found say that his age is unknown, and since I think he looks older than the other boys I made him two years older). Also, the first part of this chapter is in Duo's POV and the second part is in Heero's.

Well, (takes a deep breath) without further adieu, let the show begin... (pulls curtains back as the lights dim)


Chapter Three of Breaking the Habit: Lack of Options

"...I hurt much more,
Than any time before,
I had no options left again..."
-- From "Breaking the Habit" by Linkin Park

I held my breath as I turned the corner. This was a street I hadn't walked down in three years. As I walked down the street I was overwhelmed with a sense of hopelessness and then despair. This was 32nd Street, the street where the Maxwell Church used to stand straight and proud on. Now, there was a pile of rubble and a beat up piece of plywood that declared this the site of the Maxwell Church Tragedy.

My heart sank to see this once grand church so disrespected. The Maxwell Church used to help this whole neighborhood, never mind that it was just as poor as everyone else was. My childhood home was now nothing more than a bad memory to most. All of my good memories of Father Maxwell and Sister Helen were now tainted with seeing their bodies strewn recklessly over the rubble I now stood in front of.

My fellow pilots often rolled their eyes when I told them that anyone who gets close to me, anyone who cares for me gets killed- taken by the ruthless Shinigami. First my parents, then my gang and Solo, Father Maxwell and Sister Helen... the list goes on. Maybe that's why I had never tried to get close to any of the pilots, especially not as close as Trowa and Quatre were.

Perhaps, I thought, that's why I wanted Heero to care for me, because I knew, deep down in my heart of hearts, that Shinigami could never take Heero unless Heero really, truly wanted to die. How many people can you name who have self-destructed three times and still come out on top every time? I, for one, can only name one: Heero Yuy.

Not to say that I don't care for the other pilots, because I do. I would do anything for them; I would die for them. Especially Heero, even though you couldn't ever make me say that out loud let alone admit it to his face. I cared for him, but to tell the truth, I wasn't strong enough to deal with the rejection I knew I would be faced with.

I sighed, my thoughts drifting back to reality...

I didn't realize that I had been fingering my blades until one nicked my forefinger, pain bringing my life into harsh focus. My hate and despair, sadness and hopelessness were getting the better of me. I needed release from the cruel reality of the world. I needed to cut; I needed to calm myself.

Without a second thought I was sitting on the ground, blade sliding across my skin. Once, twice, thrice, but that wasn't enough. Minutes later, when I was finally done, my lap was covered in blood and I was panting harshly. There were sixteen cuts across my arms, in total, making a bizarre abstract painting across the pale skin of my arms. Luckily, or... perhaps not so luckily, I hadn't hit any major veins. That didn't stop me from being dizzy with blood loss, though.

Abruptly grabbing my beat-up duffle bag, I finally dragged myself away from the wreckage to get my mission over and done with. I sighed and tried to ignore the pain that was coursing through me; pain from loss, pain from rediscovered memories and pain from my battered forearms. Hopefully my mission could take my mind off of the pain of my past, as well as my wrists.

(Heero's POV)

I leaned back onto my bed, the whole time berating myself for my idiocy. I had sent Duo off to L-2 all alone, with a problem like that? How stupid can I get? The stoic practical part of me, said that I was overreacting; Duo had survived the whole entire war with that problem, perhaps even his whole life. The more moral side of me, though, was screaming at me to help him, to save him, to at least be with him.

The rational side won when I had sent Duo on his way, acting as if nothing had changed. But nothing has changed, the logical part of me said, he's always been like that. I don't know how I knew that Duo's cutting was not a new condition, but I did. Maybe it was the gut instinct that I had tuned and trained over the years, but that wasn't what mattered.

My thought drifted back to Duo's recent mission. He had been on L-2 for almost a day now, but Lady Une hadn't heard of him yet. She had even sent out Preventers on L-2 to locate him, but they came back empty handed. I, along with the other Gundam pilots, had learned during the war that if Duo didn't want of be found, then he wouldn't be. Especially, I thought, on the streets of his home colony.

"Heero?" a voice spoke through the locked door of my room. It sounded like Trowa. "Lady Une, vid-phone, now." If nothing else Trowa was concise and to the point, as always. I wondered how a chatter-box like Quatre could stand it sometimes.

I pulled myself off of my bed and dragged myself out the door and down the hallway to our all-purpose room. I sat down at the breakfast bar and pulled the vid-phone in front of me. Lady Une calmly regarded me from behind her customary glasses and cold façade.

"Heero," she greeted.

"Lady Une," I replied. We stared at each other for a minute or two, neither of us relenting in our silence. Finally she broke and spoke.

"Have you heard from Duo lately?" I shook my head negative. "You know the details of his mission, correct." A quick nod of assent and she continued, "And you know that something as simple as a search and destroy mission shouldn't be too much for Duo to handle. Is there anything you know that I should be aware of; something, perhaps, that would explain his blatant refusal to follow orders?" I nodded once again. She quirked an eyebrow, expecting more.

"Duo has some issues that may be interfering with his judgment." I know she expected more but the finality in my tone left no room for questioning. She nodded, trusting my judgment.

"Find him, Heero. Find him and bring him home," in a rare show of emotion she finished softly, "please..."

"Mission accepted."
As I stepped off the shuttle in the L-2 space port, I took in my surroundings. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dirt and smoke, like any other place on the rundown colony of L-2; I could smell the stench of garbage and old blood. It was nothing I hadn't encountered before.

As I made my way through the space port, I noticed the erratic placing of the Preventers' police force. They were always in clumps, in odd locations. No sense of unified power, and no structure. And Lady Une wondered why these guys couldn't find Duo? Did she think so little of the Gundam pilot? I would truly be surprised if the L-2 Preventers could find their shoes in the morning. No wonder Duo had avoided them so easily.

I headed towards the stair up to the street level, passing one of the luggage carousels on my way. I was keeping to the shadows so he must not have noticed me. I noticed him, though; Duo was sitting on one of the exposed ceiling rafters. He was dressed in his customary black priest-like outfit and a black baseball hat. His face was hidden in shadow, but there was no mistaking him for anyone other than Duo Maxwell.

As I watched, Duo pulled out the parts to a long distance rifle. Snapping the different component together he held a custom rifle of his own design. Looking through the scope I saw him aim. Before I knew it the shot had been fire and the screaming began.

Duo's target had been a rotund man in an expensive, custom Armani suit. Blood was pooling around the head where a single, perfectly aimed shot had been fired right into his forehead. I was always amazed with Duo's long distance aiming; sometimes he didn't even need a scope to be that accurate.

As Duo turned to flee, I noticed that he looked paler than I thought he would, almost as if he were sick... or suffering from blood loss. I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and walked out into the open. I saw Duo glance my way and then disappear into the shadows.

Two hours later found me in the slums of L-2. I had been following Duo since the incident in the space port. He wasn't trying to hide where he was going. His movements were irregular, but not unpredictable enough to follow. He led me through back alleys over hotel roofs and finally into a deserted and condemned neighborhood. When I finally caught up to him he was sitting on a bench in front of some sort of old battle field.

As I got closer I could see the old sign behind the bench that stated, for the world to see, that this was the site of the Maxwell Church Tragedy. I was shocked at first but the logical part of me said that I shouldn't be; this was Duo's old home, so why wouldn't he want to visit it. Because, the more emotional side of me argued, this is a place of horrible memories for him. This was the home of his youth and he blamed himself for its destruction.

I approached Duo slowly, like I would approach an injured anima: with the utmost care and concern. When he made no move to acknowledge me, I cautiously sat on the dirty bench next to him.

Then I saw it.

Duo's arms were no longer the pale color that his skin normally was but were now red with blood. There had to be at least fifteen cuts crisscrossed over his wrists and forearms. I inspected the rest of Duo with the ease of someone not disturbed in the least by bloodshed. His face had a sickly pallor to it and his eyes were glassy and half-lidded.

I was faintly surprised when he suddenly spoke. His voice was slurred, almost as if he had been drinking, but I knew better. Whenever Duo was exhausted, his speech regained its original L-2 slur.

"Hey, Heero... Watcha doin' here? Wasn't 'spectin' ya ta be here, considerin' ya don't care 'bout me much 'tall..."

I answered with the truth, even thought the sentimental side of me was yelling at me to comfort him. "I'm here on a mission to bring you back to Lady Une. Did you complete your mission?" I saw, rather than heard him sigh as he nodded. Good, I thought, that would be one less thing he'd have to explain to Lady Une once we got back.

I picked Duo up, amazingly without any protests from him, and started the long way back to the space port, walking through the depressing area that used to be Duo's childhood neighborhood.
Please review because that is what my muse and I live on. Flames will be used to cook yummy food (i.e. quesadillas and manicotti).

Thank you to...

Dana Archer: Yes, it did cause him to do something very stupid, fRuiTdevil: you're very much welcome. Also, thanks- I'm glad you thought it was funny as I was trying to lighten the atmosphere a little bit before I drowned everyone with the angst of this chapter, LiLPixi: I'm glad you like it, Chiisai Angel: Thanks, and yes poor, poor Duo, stuck on L-2 but not for long, Rena Lupin: I don't know if this is soon, per se... but at least I updated, Kiyomi22: I'm glad you were able to see the humor in it, and I'm glad you liked Duo's names and his comebacks. I had a lot of fun with those. I'm pleased you liked the description of L-2, as I'm pretty proud of it, ShinigamiPhoenix: Thanks, I'm glad you liked it so far, and yes, I know the second chapter was short. This one is longer, so hopefully it will make up for it. I agree, it is amazingly hard to keep Duo's humor while writing such an angsty fic, without making him extra cynical, that is. I'm glad you liked my portrayal of Duo and Heero's relationship, or lack thereof. Eventually the relationship will actually go somewhere, but not yet. Thanks again, Feanturi Dindel: I'm glad you liked and I tried to update as fast as I could

Thanks everybody for all of the encouragement. If I missed anybody, then I'm sorry, I'll get you next time.