Yeah, I know its been a horribly long time since I've updated. I'm sorry! _ But here, finally, is the next chapter. I've had quite a lot of inspiration for it lately. _ Thank you to everyone who's supported me on this long road.

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Part 25

Sally returned some time later, and silently handed me the small package of razor blades, her face stony. She definitely wasn't happy about this.

"Thank you," I said softly, the blades a comforting weight in my clenched fist.

"Yes, thank you, Sally." Hilde added. She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. Sally nodded stiffly.

"We're going to have to talk more about this. The others aren't very happy, either," she said. I swallowed. "And we'll need to talk about the other therapists, too," Sally continued, rubbing her face wearily. "But not tonight. I don't think any of us are up to it." She looked at me. "Duo… will you be joining the rest of us for some dinner? We would… we would really like it if you did."

I blinked at her. I was actually a bit hungry. I'd hardly eaten a thing the past few days, and nothing at all that day. But… how had it gotten this way? That she had to ask me to join them so… so earnestly? But I knew how. It was my fault. I was alienating them. I was destroying things between us. I was ruining everything. My fist clenched more tightly around the package of blades. Oh, so reassuring, such a relief to have them back.

"I… I don't know if I should," I answered, looking away. My presence would make everything awkward. They would be better off without me. As usual. Plus, the thought of seeing them right now, especially Heero, was beyond mortifying.

"Please, Duo, come down to dinner. You don't have to hide from the people who love you," Hilde said pleadingly. I couldn't help but twitch. The people who loved me? But I didn't feel loved. Sometimes, I could understand logically in my head that these people had to at least care about me, because of the things they'd done, because of the words they'd said. But somehow I could just never really feel loved. It didn't reach my heart. My brain may be able to think logically now and then but my heart knew that I was worthless, and that it was impossible that anyone really cared. My heart ached with the certainty of it.

But… didn't Hilde care? Hadn't she shown that? I felt so confused. I felt torn apart. How could I ever hope to live any kind of functional, normal life when I couldn't even straighten out something so apparently simple in my head? What the fuck was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just believe it? Because it's not true, a dark voice whispered in my head. Sooner or later she'll realize how worthless you are and give up. They all will. It's just a matter of time.

Well, fuck it.

I wasn't going to hide in my room. I would go down to dinner and they could stare at me and think bad things about me if they wanted to. What did it fucking matter anyway? They were already thinking them. Any hope of pulling the wool over their eyes was long gone. So fuck it. Maybe if I tried hard enough, I could convince myself that it didn't hurt. That them looking at me with those knowing eyes didn't make my heart ache and my soul twist and my hands itch for a razor blade. Yeah, right.

"Fine, I'll go," I finally said with a sigh. "Just… give me a few minutes to clean up, okay?" Sally smiled in relief, nodded and left the room. Hilde beamed and gave me another quick hug. I caught her arm as she turned to follow Sally. "Could you… could you maybe wait for me?" I asked hesitantly. New-found policy of not caring or not, I still didn't fancy the idea of going down there alone. She nodded understandingly.

"Sure, I'll be right outside." And with that she was gone.

And I was alone.

I stood looking around my room in a something of a daze for a few minutes. It had been a hell of a day. Fuck, it had been a hell of a week. I felt so… so weary from it. Deep down to my bones. But right, getting ready for dinner. First, I had to put the blades away. Somewhere they wouldn't easily be found if the others decided I shouldn't have them after all. After some deliberation, I taped the small package to the underside of one of the dresser drawers. Not perfect, considering I was in a house full of former terrorists, but it was the best I could do for now.

I changed my clothes, since I was still wearing my club gear from the night before. I brushed and re-braided my hair, making a mental note to have a shower before going to bed. I flexed my aching right fist, staring at the scabbed knuckles for a moment before I remembered slamming my fist into the alley wall. Fucking idiotic thing to do. My bruised arm throbbed dully and my thigh stung. All damage I had done to myself. I gripped the bathroom counter, staring at my reflection in the mirror, overwhelmed by a bitter wave of self-loathing. But Hilde and the others were waiting. I brought my fist down on my already bruised arm several times, the intensified waves of pain lightening the fog in my brain, grounding me in the here and now.

True to her word, Hilde was waiting out in the hallway. With a tentative smile, she reached out and took my hand, and together we headed downstairs. There was a lump in my throat that simply would not be banished, no matter how many times I tried to swallow it back. It doesn't matter, I tried to remind myself. They're already disgusted by you and nothing will change that and it doesn't matter. But of course it did matter, or else I wouldn't have needed to focus on the throbbing ache in my arm to keep from fleeing back up the stairs.

Stepping into that dining room… I had a sense of déjà vu. How many times was I going to be entering a room full of my supposed friends, feeling like I was going before a firing squad? But I wasn't alone this time. I squeezed Hilde's hand reflexively, and she squeezed mine back. A few deep breaths, and I was as ready as I was ever going to be.

We took our seats. I found myself unable to look anyone in the eye. It was… beyond uncomfortable. My skin was crawling, crawling… I rubbed at my arm unconsciously. I needed the pain, needed the grounding. Fuck, how could I do this?

Heero was there. Our eyes met briefly as I flitted my gaze nervously around the room. His expression was stony. I looked away. The tightness in my chest was crushing. No matter what Hilde thought, I was sure he wasn't sorry he'd hit me. I had deserved it after all. I could barely breathe.

Quatre made a valiant attempt at dinner conversation. He questioned Wufei about his work. Wufei said that he'd have to be returning within a few days, they really couldn't do without him any longer. He glanced in my direction, almost apologetically. But why, really, did it matter? I still didn't understand why they were all hovering around me. Trowa, too, would have to be returning to the circus soon. I picked at my food listlessly. It would be easier, I thought, if I didn't have so many people hovering over me. But why wasn't Heero leaving? He hated me now, didn't he?

Sitting there… I was so incredibly aware of what a freak I was. These people were my friends. Yet I was so, so far away from them. I was sick, and it scared them. It scared them away from me when I needed them the most. I couldn't rely on them. I couldn't unload on them. They didn't know how to deal with it. And I'd already hurt them enough.

God, had it really been only a short time ago that I'd felt a bit hopeful as Hilde had held me upstairs? How… how could I hope for anything to change for the better when my moods were so tenuous? I couldn't control my emotions from one moment to the next. Freak, freak, freak… They could never understand. They could never deal with this. My self-loathing was so intense I felt light-headed.

I finished eating and retreated back upstairs, very, very grateful when no one protested or stopped me. I understood. They wanted a break from me. Who could blame them?

Back in my room. Alone. I leaned back against the closed door, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. I drew my legs tight to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and burying my face in my knees.

I wanted to die.

Everything was such a mess. I hated myself. I hated how pathetic I was. I could feel it deep down to my bones. How simply fucking worthless I was. My whole body felt on edge, as if waiting for a fall. My arms folded back up over my head, fists clenching in my hair.

Worthless…

Pathetic…

Loathsome…

How can a person be expected to deal with something like this?

I crawled forward, sobs choking in my throat, to hit the play button on the CD player and flood the room with angst-filled music. I wanted to drown in it. I wanted it to take me away.

And it was like it hit me like a ton of bricks. I fumbled desperately for the drawer with the blades. I needed them, needed them so badly. And then I was sitting with my back against the wall next to the dresser, left sleeve rolled up and blade clutched desperately in my right hand. Something inside me was trembling. I was detached yet… not. I could have been watching a movie, except that I could feel the metal in my hand, the hard floor under my butt, the deep, desperate breaths I sucked into my lungs.

The forearm is the absolute best place to cut.

The skin is soft and so very, very sensitive. The way the blade can just sink in and be so… so hypnotic… The exquisitely sharp pain. Necessity and discretion may lead you to cut in other places, but the forearm will always be the best, the most satisfying, the most seductive.

I surveyed the scarred, ugly skin, still streaked with scabbed lines from the last time I'd cut there, and then sank the blade into soft white flesh near the crook of my elbow. I sighed with pain, clenching my eyes shut. I drew the blade down, wincing as I felt it drawing through my skin, parting my flesh. And then it was over, and I could feel my whole body going limp, the release almost palpable. My head thunked against the wall as I just let myself feel the cool sensation of blood beading out of the wound.

But still, it wasn't enough.

I drew the blade through the soft white skin of my arm several more times, each time seeming to deepen the release. Sharp, sharp, so sharp…

And I don't think I could have hated myself more.

I was letting Hilde down. I was letting everyone down. What would Heero think, if he could see me right now, at this most horrible, most personal moment? My blood ran cold in my veins at the thought.

I let the blade slip from my fingers. Once again, I wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my face in my knees, not caring as trickles of blood and tears soaked into my clothes. The pain was a sharp ache in my flesh.

I sat like that for a long time, until the CD I had playing had long since finished. Listlessly, I finally crawled to my feet, putting the blades away before turning the CD back on and crawling into bed. Fuck getting a shower. I would do it in the morning. Ridiculously early hour it might be, but all I wanted to do was sink into oblivion. Sleep would have to do for now.

I returned to consciousness slowly and painfully. The light streaming in from the window told me that it was sometime the next morning. I felt like complete and utter crap. Not too surprising, considering the last few days. A drug overdose and binge drinking on top of very little food. And I was in desperate need of a shower.

It was hard to find the impetus to actually get out of bed. There really didn't seem to be much point. So much simpler to simply lay there in a semi-dozing state, just letting my body feel its miscellaneous aches and pains each time I shifted position.

The relative peace couldn't last, though. Eventually there was a tentative knock at the door. I sighed and rolled over onto my back.

"Yeah?" I called unenthusiastically. The door opened and Hilde peeked her head in. I quickly checked to make sure the fresh cuts on my arm were covered.

"It's after one in the afternoon. Do you maybe want to come down and have some lunch?" she asked. I blinked at her. After one? That meant I'd been in bed for almost sixteen hours. I sat up slowly, feeling lethargic. I was just so… drained.

"I guess so," I finally replied, rubbing at my eyes tiredly. "I should probably get a shower first, though. I'm rank," I added with a wry smile.

"Great!" Hilde beamed. I raised an eyebrow at her. "No, not that you're rank," she laughed. "I'll ask the cook to get a sandwich and some soup ready for you. Is that okay?" I nodded. As soon as she'd closed the door, the smile melted from my face. Sixteen hours in bed or not, all I wanted to do was sink back into those inviting pillows and never face the outside world again.

Sighing, I reluctantly climbed out of bed. For a moment all I could do was stand there, gazing around the room, just… lost. Yesterday had really taken a lot out of me, leaving me feeling flat and empty. I needed to snap out of this, to get going, to be able to function as some semblance of a normal human being. Even as I felt consumed by the pointlessness of it all. Jaw clenching, I took a razor blade to the bathroom with me.

Going through the motions of getting a shower was more effort than it had any right to be. My body looked… wrecked. Bruised arm, bruised knuckles, scabbed chest, scabbed legs, scabbed arms, split lip… I couldn't believe how ugly I was. And even as I felt the self-loathing, I added to it by sinking that blade into the flesh of my arm several times, needing the pain, knowing I deserved it. Worthless, worthless, worthless…Any tears I shed were lost in the spray of the shower.

I did feel a little more human after I was cleaned and dressed. Still not even close to being prepared to face people, though. Not that I had much choice. Stomach a tight knot of dread, I headed downstairs.

Luckily, I didn't encounter anyone on my way to the kitchen. But not only was Hilde waiting for me there, but Heero was there, too. Oh, shit. Suddenly I wanted nothing more in the world than to have a nice strong drink. Or ten. Anything to numb the awful feeling that was suddenly crawling in my skin.

After a few moments Hilde noticed me hovering in the doorway like a scared rabbit. She waved me in, motioning to where a sandwich and a steaming bowl of soup were waiting on the breakfast nook table. She was also sitting at the table, books and papers spread out around her. She seemed to be working on one of her college courses. Heero was simply leaning against the counter, arms crossed, face stony. I don't think he could have looked more intimidating if he'd tried.

I ate quietly as Hilde told me about the course she was working on, nodding whenever necessary. Her speech was smooth and natural, not seeming at all like she was trying to cover up an awkward silence. And she didn't try to draw me into conversation, for which I was immensely grateful. I think I probably would have been able to actually relax a bit if Heero hadn't been there. I could practically feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. Why the hell was he just standing there? What the hell did he want?

"I need to talk to you, Duo. Alone," Heero said when I had finished the last of my food. My blood froze in my veins. Oh, this could so not be good. I looked desperately at Hilde, but she was nodding understandingly and already gathering up her books.

"I think it's time I took a break anyway," she said lightly. "Why don't you come find me later, Duo? Maybe we could take a look at those websites… if you wanted to, hmm?" She looked at me pointedly and mouthed 'Just listen to him' before leaving the room. I couldn't help but feel abandoned. Heero came over and took her seat. For a long time he just sat there looking at me as I flitted my gaze around the kitchen, looking everywhere but at him and picking nervously at a loose thread on my sleeve.

"Does… does it hurt?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence. I looked at him, startled and a little confused until I realized he must have been referring to my split lip. I shook my head, looking away again. It would have been really nice if the floor had just opened up and swallowed me. Funny how that never happens when you want it to. Heero sighed audibly, and I felt a stab of guilt. Why? Who the fuck knows? Heero was unhappy and it was my fault and that was all the reasoning my brain needed in order for me to feel bad about it.

"I owe you an apology," he said then. I had to look at him. Heero was apologizing? The look on his face was also alarming. He was scowling a little, which certainly wasn't unusual, but it was more of a… a pained scowl than his usual annoyed or angry scowls.

"Hey, man, I deserved it…" I started to protest, but he shook his head sharply.

"No! I shouldn't have done that. Even if you were being an idiot."

I couldn't help but smile wryly at that, even if it did make my gut twist. It was true. I had been acting like an idiot. But that didn't mean that hearing him just say it like that didn't hurt.

"Yeah, well…" My voice trailed off. I just didn't know what to say. I looked away sharply, my eyes stinging a little bit. Trying to talk about this was just… horrible. My chest felt so tight it was hard to breathe. I wanted to curl into a ball and die. Anything, anything at all just to not have to talk about this. But Heero plowed on, oblivious to my feelings.

"I just want to understand what's going on. I… I don't understand it at all," he said, an alien note of uncertainty in his voice. I felt a spike of resentment and of bitter, bitter self-loathing.

"You think I understand it? Well think again!" I snapped. His scowl deepened, and oh, I wanted to die so much.

"We're here, you know, you can talk to us. Why… why do you do these things to yourself? It doesn't make any sense!" he shot back. I was trembling. I could feel my insides trembling. I wanted to disappear, to never have to look anyone in the face again, to never have to talk to anyone ever again, to never have anyone know such personal, personal fucking weakness and shame about me ever again.

" I KNOW it doesn't make any sense!" I yelled. I clenched my eyes shut, wrapped my arms around myself in a fierce embrace. Please God, please, just kill me now. It was like my worst nightmare come to life. Trying to talk about this, trying to talk about it to someone… someone that I cared about, having them know this horrible, horrible thing about me, to be calling me on it. It was too much to bear.

Heero stood up and began to pace around the kitchen. To my horror, tears had started to track down my face. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! The crawling sensation in my skin was too much. It was taking every ounce of self-control I possessed not to slam my arms against the table repeatedly, not to yell and scream and rage and deaden this emotional pain with the physical.

"But why do you do these things to yourself? It's… it's stupid! What are we supposed to do to help you? What do you want from us?" Heero yelled back, glaring at me. I think I felt my heart crack.

"I DON'T KNOW! I don't know, okay? I don't know why I do things I know are stupid! You think I don't know hurting myself is stupid? You think I don't know it's a bad idea to drink when I'm depressed? I don't know why I do it, okay? I can't help it! I can't fucking help it! And I don't know what I want! I don't know what anyone can do! I JUST DON'T KNOW!" I screamed. I slumped forward onto the table, wrapping my arms around my head. The tears were flowing freely now. There was just no stopping them. Why couldn't I explain this to him? Why couldn't I make him understand? Crawling, crawling, crawling… the shame was crawling through my skin, and I would have given anything, anything at all, not to have to deal with this.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Sally's voice suddenly interjected from the doorway.

Oh, perfect. Just fucking perfect.

TBC

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