Notes: Duo POV. A deep meaningful conversations and whole heaps of angst! I mean, serious angst, not mild angst. and sorry about the really sappy ending, I just couldn't resist. Enjoy and review!
My emergency box was just a battered old shoebox with the words 'emergency box' scrawled in bright red marker on the lid. Inside was a small book of word puzzles, one of those rubix cube things, a box of paper clips for me to chain together, an MP3 player with a collection of my favourite songs, and a small pad of paper with a packet of pens and pencils. The only thing missing was the surprise gift from Heero.
Why had I asked Heero to add the gift? Why not Quatre? Quatre was my best friend, I've always been closest to him, but... I dunno, I just hadn't thought of him. When Heero mentioned the gift, I just immediately thought of him. Why?
Did I love Heero?
Ah that was the question now, wasn't it? I didn't think I did. I mean, sure I thought he was gorgeous and I've had many wonderful dreams about him, but... I didn't love him. I wasn't ready to love him. Not yet. So... what was this little tingling spark inside of me that danced at the sight of him? What was this warm feeling in the pit of my stomach?
It wasn't love.
It couldn't be.
Could it?
I sighed and pushed my bangs out of my eyes irritably, glaring out the window. My hand fell down and brushed against my thigh. I could feel the slight indentations of my blades in my pocket and my blood ran cold.
I don't know why I kept them in my pocket, just that I couldn't bear to leave them in my bag. I was scared that they would be taken away from me again, and I couldn't bear that. The thought of not being able to cut again chilled me to my soul. Cutting was the only way I could survive, it was a requirement for living now. To not be able to feel the sweet pain as the blade cut into my skin, to not see the blood well up and dribble down my arm... cutting was everything to me. I hated that I needed to do it, that I was so weak I had to rely on it, but it was all I knew, it was the only way I could cope with my life.
All the blood, all the pain, all the sorrow, all the tears and screams, all the death and destruction, all of it just faded away the moment I felt the cool metal kiss my skin. There was no more hurt, no more suffering, there was just me and the blade.
According to Heero, in order to love him, I had to love myself, but how was that possible? What was there about me to love? I was just a dirty, miserable L2 street rat. Blood coated my hands in thick red droplets. Scars marred my body, reminders of all my stupid mistakes. My eyes had seen so much pain, so much sorrow. Too much. How could I possibly love myself?
But... Heero saw something in me, saw something that made him love me. What was it? What was it that made him ignore all his training and his orders and stay with me?
"Duo." The voice was soft, hesitant, and it sent a thrill of... something through my body. I turned and saw him leaning in the doorway, a thoughtful little frown creasing his brow.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think... you might be willing to talk? Just a little, not too much."
Talk, about my problems, about cutting, about my past. I shivered, but nodded, moving to sit on the bed, Heero's bed. I don't know why, but I felt more comfortable in his room than I did in mine, and as he didn't seem to mind, I had spent most of my day in here, looking at my emergency box, touching my scars, thinking about my problems.
I huddled on the bed, knees drawn up to my chest, a very defensive position that clearly stated how vulnerable I was feeling. Heero chose to sit on the edge of the bed, close but not too close.
"Where do we start?" I asked quietly, not looking at Heero.
"How about the first time you cut?"
I sighed, but nodded. It was the logical place to start, and I knew that, but it dint make it any easier to talk about. My hands were clutching my knees so tightly my knuckles were white. Heero saw this and touched my arm comfortingly. I tried to smile at him but failed miserably.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing my eyes in the hopes of convincing myself that I was alone, that Heero wasn't in the room.
"It was a couple of years ago," I began quietly, trying to ignore how my voice trembled. "April 16th AC193. I'd had a bad day and went to bed in a mood. That always brings nightmares and this time was no exception. I was a little kid, seven or so, on the streets of L2 and... Solo was... was dying."
I closed my eyes against the tears, not realising that I had even opened them. It was always hard to talk about Solo, the sweet memories of my time with him marred with the bitterness of his death.
Heero waited for me to regain control before asking softly, "Who was Solo?"
"He was a street kid, a little older than me. He had shoulder-length blonde hair, blue eyes, and was always grinning, always making some sarcastic comment. He found me on the streets and took me in, let me be in his gang. He taught me how to steal and beg, how to run and hide, how to survive. He was like my brother."
I smiled faintly, remembering the happier days with Solo, but then I started remembering the day the happiness vanished and the smile faded.
"Duo," Heero said quietly, and I took a deep breath.
"L2 wasn't, isn't, one of the most hygienic of places to live. Everyone was too wrapped up in their own little worlds to care about all the health rules. I don't know how, but a plague started. People started getting sick, started dying. They found a vaccine, but no one ever thought to give it to the street kids. What did they care if the pathetic street rats started dying? We were only useful to the drug dealers and people who wanted a quick, cheap fuck. To everyone else we were just a nuisance, dirty, grimy little kids who stole and begged, who interrupted their wheeling and dealings.
"My gang started getting sick, started getting fevers and vomiting blood. And Solo got sick, too. so I went and stole the vaccine and gave it to everyone. For most of them, I was in time, they started getting better. But Solo... Solo was too far gone.... He died in my arms, shivering and sweating and coughing up blood. He said that-that we'd always be together, he'd always be with me. I took the name Duo that night."
"I'm sorry," Heero whispered, and I smiled bitterly.
"In the dream... I saw it all happen again. I felt him tremble, heard the wet coughing, saw the blood and tears on his cheeks; I was so scared. I woke up... and the fear stayed. I was all alone and I was terrified and... I couldn't think. I just needed it to all go away, I needed peace. And then I saw one of my knives lying on the floor.
"I don't know what made me do it, I'd never even thought of cutting before, but... I did it, I cut myself. And it felt so good. The pain was sharp and sweet, the blood glistening brightly in the light. It consumed me, filled my mind, chased away all other thoughts. I wasn't scared or lonely or depressed. I was empty."
I fell silent, remembering how wonderful it felt to be filled by that empty calm. My skin began to itch and crawl, as if hundreds of tiny bugs were marching over my body, and I shivered, raising my eyes to look at Heero.
I don't know how he knew, perhaps he saw it in my eyes, but Heero suddenly moved to sit beside me, wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulders. I fell into his embrace, letting him soothe and comfort me like he had so much in the past few days.
God, how many days was it since this whole fiasco started? I couldn't remember, time had lost all meaning to me, the days and nights bleeding together into one long nightmare filled with pain and misery and... Heero?
I blinked, realising that every time I had needed him, Heero had been there. He may have caused all the pain and misery, but he was also there to help ease the torment. He had actually refused a mission, had turned his back on the war, for me.
I shivered, hard, and buried my face in Heero's shoulder. I wasn't used to having someone care about me so much. Why? Why did he love me? I was a pathetic, weak fuck-up who couldn't survive without mutilating myself. Why did he love me? Did he love me? What if he was lying? What if he was just pretending to love me so that he could fuck me?
A cold hardness filled my heart as I thought about that, hate and anger coiling inside me like a burning snake. But then I realised that I was wrong, that if Heero just wanted to screw me, he wouldn't put up with all my problems, he wouldn't hold me as I trembled and gasped and fought the urge to cut. For whatever reason, Heero loved me and I had to accept that.
I smiled and dropped a light kiss on the side of Heero's neck, hearing his breathi hitch slightly.
"Thank you, Heero," I whispered, drawing away from him and sitting up. he looked at me closely for a moment and then smiled.
"You're welcome. That wasn't too bad, was it?"
I blinked and realised that he was right, it hadn't been too bad. It had been hard at first, to think about Solo and his death, but once I got used to it, it had become a little easier. And when I told Heero about that first time it had only brought a faint itching, a distant desire instead of the all-consuming need I was used to. I had wanted to cut, sure, but... I hadn't. I had resisted.
My eyes flew wide at the realisation and Heero smiled at me, brushing his fingertips along my cheek in a very intimate gesture.
"You will get better, Duo," he promised quietly, his eyes blazing with determination. It was the sort of look he got during a complicated mission, but this time it was mixed with something else, something more personal.
I smiled and dared to brush my lips against his in a quick, chase kiss.
"I know you love me, Heero," I whispered, not quite able to speak any louder. "And I know I don't love you. But... you're not just a friend to me. You know that, right?"
Heero smiled and nodded before leaving me alone, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Smiling, I let myself fall back on the bed, closing my eyes as I remembered the fierce light in Heero's eyes. He loved me. Heero Yuy loved me, Duo Maxwell. It sent warm shivers through my body, and I fell asleep quickly, my dreams filled with cobalt blue eyes that shone with love.
My emergency box was just a battered old shoebox with the words 'emergency box' scrawled in bright red marker on the lid. Inside was a small book of word puzzles, one of those rubix cube things, a box of paper clips for me to chain together, an MP3 player with a collection of my favourite songs, and a small pad of paper with a packet of pens and pencils. The only thing missing was the surprise gift from Heero.
Why had I asked Heero to add the gift? Why not Quatre? Quatre was my best friend, I've always been closest to him, but... I dunno, I just hadn't thought of him. When Heero mentioned the gift, I just immediately thought of him. Why?
Did I love Heero?
Ah that was the question now, wasn't it? I didn't think I did. I mean, sure I thought he was gorgeous and I've had many wonderful dreams about him, but... I didn't love him. I wasn't ready to love him. Not yet. So... what was this little tingling spark inside of me that danced at the sight of him? What was this warm feeling in the pit of my stomach?
It wasn't love.
It couldn't be.
Could it?
I sighed and pushed my bangs out of my eyes irritably, glaring out the window. My hand fell down and brushed against my thigh. I could feel the slight indentations of my blades in my pocket and my blood ran cold.
I don't know why I kept them in my pocket, just that I couldn't bear to leave them in my bag. I was scared that they would be taken away from me again, and I couldn't bear that. The thought of not being able to cut again chilled me to my soul. Cutting was the only way I could survive, it was a requirement for living now. To not be able to feel the sweet pain as the blade cut into my skin, to not see the blood well up and dribble down my arm... cutting was everything to me. I hated that I needed to do it, that I was so weak I had to rely on it, but it was all I knew, it was the only way I could cope with my life.
All the blood, all the pain, all the sorrow, all the tears and screams, all the death and destruction, all of it just faded away the moment I felt the cool metal kiss my skin. There was no more hurt, no more suffering, there was just me and the blade.
According to Heero, in order to love him, I had to love myself, but how was that possible? What was there about me to love? I was just a dirty, miserable L2 street rat. Blood coated my hands in thick red droplets. Scars marred my body, reminders of all my stupid mistakes. My eyes had seen so much pain, so much sorrow. Too much. How could I possibly love myself?
But... Heero saw something in me, saw something that made him love me. What was it? What was it that made him ignore all his training and his orders and stay with me?
"Duo." The voice was soft, hesitant, and it sent a thrill of... something through my body. I turned and saw him leaning in the doorway, a thoughtful little frown creasing his brow.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think... you might be willing to talk? Just a little, not too much."
Talk, about my problems, about cutting, about my past. I shivered, but nodded, moving to sit on the bed, Heero's bed. I don't know why, but I felt more comfortable in his room than I did in mine, and as he didn't seem to mind, I had spent most of my day in here, looking at my emergency box, touching my scars, thinking about my problems.
I huddled on the bed, knees drawn up to my chest, a very defensive position that clearly stated how vulnerable I was feeling. Heero chose to sit on the edge of the bed, close but not too close.
"Where do we start?" I asked quietly, not looking at Heero.
"How about the first time you cut?"
I sighed, but nodded. It was the logical place to start, and I knew that, but it dint make it any easier to talk about. My hands were clutching my knees so tightly my knuckles were white. Heero saw this and touched my arm comfortingly. I tried to smile at him but failed miserably.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing my eyes in the hopes of convincing myself that I was alone, that Heero wasn't in the room.
"It was a couple of years ago," I began quietly, trying to ignore how my voice trembled. "April 16th AC193. I'd had a bad day and went to bed in a mood. That always brings nightmares and this time was no exception. I was a little kid, seven or so, on the streets of L2 and... Solo was... was dying."
I closed my eyes against the tears, not realising that I had even opened them. It was always hard to talk about Solo, the sweet memories of my time with him marred with the bitterness of his death.
Heero waited for me to regain control before asking softly, "Who was Solo?"
"He was a street kid, a little older than me. He had shoulder-length blonde hair, blue eyes, and was always grinning, always making some sarcastic comment. He found me on the streets and took me in, let me be in his gang. He taught me how to steal and beg, how to run and hide, how to survive. He was like my brother."
I smiled faintly, remembering the happier days with Solo, but then I started remembering the day the happiness vanished and the smile faded.
"Duo," Heero said quietly, and I took a deep breath.
"L2 wasn't, isn't, one of the most hygienic of places to live. Everyone was too wrapped up in their own little worlds to care about all the health rules. I don't know how, but a plague started. People started getting sick, started dying. They found a vaccine, but no one ever thought to give it to the street kids. What did they care if the pathetic street rats started dying? We were only useful to the drug dealers and people who wanted a quick, cheap fuck. To everyone else we were just a nuisance, dirty, grimy little kids who stole and begged, who interrupted their wheeling and dealings.
"My gang started getting sick, started getting fevers and vomiting blood. And Solo got sick, too. so I went and stole the vaccine and gave it to everyone. For most of them, I was in time, they started getting better. But Solo... Solo was too far gone.... He died in my arms, shivering and sweating and coughing up blood. He said that-that we'd always be together, he'd always be with me. I took the name Duo that night."
"I'm sorry," Heero whispered, and I smiled bitterly.
"In the dream... I saw it all happen again. I felt him tremble, heard the wet coughing, saw the blood and tears on his cheeks; I was so scared. I woke up... and the fear stayed. I was all alone and I was terrified and... I couldn't think. I just needed it to all go away, I needed peace. And then I saw one of my knives lying on the floor.
"I don't know what made me do it, I'd never even thought of cutting before, but... I did it, I cut myself. And it felt so good. The pain was sharp and sweet, the blood glistening brightly in the light. It consumed me, filled my mind, chased away all other thoughts. I wasn't scared or lonely or depressed. I was empty."
I fell silent, remembering how wonderful it felt to be filled by that empty calm. My skin began to itch and crawl, as if hundreds of tiny bugs were marching over my body, and I shivered, raising my eyes to look at Heero.
I don't know how he knew, perhaps he saw it in my eyes, but Heero suddenly moved to sit beside me, wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulders. I fell into his embrace, letting him soothe and comfort me like he had so much in the past few days.
God, how many days was it since this whole fiasco started? I couldn't remember, time had lost all meaning to me, the days and nights bleeding together into one long nightmare filled with pain and misery and... Heero?
I blinked, realising that every time I had needed him, Heero had been there. He may have caused all the pain and misery, but he was also there to help ease the torment. He had actually refused a mission, had turned his back on the war, for me.
I shivered, hard, and buried my face in Heero's shoulder. I wasn't used to having someone care about me so much. Why? Why did he love me? I was a pathetic, weak fuck-up who couldn't survive without mutilating myself. Why did he love me? Did he love me? What if he was lying? What if he was just pretending to love me so that he could fuck me?
A cold hardness filled my heart as I thought about that, hate and anger coiling inside me like a burning snake. But then I realised that I was wrong, that if Heero just wanted to screw me, he wouldn't put up with all my problems, he wouldn't hold me as I trembled and gasped and fought the urge to cut. For whatever reason, Heero loved me and I had to accept that.
I smiled and dropped a light kiss on the side of Heero's neck, hearing his breathi hitch slightly.
"Thank you, Heero," I whispered, drawing away from him and sitting up. he looked at me closely for a moment and then smiled.
"You're welcome. That wasn't too bad, was it?"
I blinked and realised that he was right, it hadn't been too bad. It had been hard at first, to think about Solo and his death, but once I got used to it, it had become a little easier. And when I told Heero about that first time it had only brought a faint itching, a distant desire instead of the all-consuming need I was used to. I had wanted to cut, sure, but... I hadn't. I had resisted.
My eyes flew wide at the realisation and Heero smiled at me, brushing his fingertips along my cheek in a very intimate gesture.
"You will get better, Duo," he promised quietly, his eyes blazing with determination. It was the sort of look he got during a complicated mission, but this time it was mixed with something else, something more personal.
I smiled and dared to brush my lips against his in a quick, chase kiss.
"I know you love me, Heero," I whispered, not quite able to speak any louder. "And I know I don't love you. But... you're not just a friend to me. You know that, right?"
Heero smiled and nodded before leaving me alone, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Smiling, I let myself fall back on the bed, closing my eyes as I remembered the fierce light in Heero's eyes. He loved me. Heero Yuy loved me, Duo Maxwell. It sent warm shivers through my body, and I fell asleep quickly, my dreams filled with cobalt blue eyes that shone with love.