No, your eyes do not deceive you. I really did update! XD I can't even say how sorry I am that it took such an insanely long time. ;;; Thank you to all the people who kept sending reviews. They mean so much to me! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

Part 26

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

Oh, perfect. Just fucking perfect.

I hastily wiped the tears from my face, knowing it was a useless gesture. I couldn't look at her, couldn't look at Heero, just wanted to crawl under the table and die. The fear and shame ate away at the core of me. Why did Heero have to start this? Why couldn't he… why couldn't he have left well enough alone?

Well enough. What a joke.

"Duo and I are… talking," Heero finally replied, his voice thin and strained.

"Talking? Sounded more like a screaming match to me," Sally shot back tersely.

"I was just trying to get him to talk about what's been going on. I just want to understand!" Heero replied, his voice rising again. My, my, how unusual. It was rare indeed for Heero to get so emotional. All over little old me. Fuck.

"You shouldn't be upsetting him like this!" Great, now Sally was yelling, too. I rubbed my temples wearily. My hands were trembling.

"I wasn't trying to upset him! I just want him to explain! I… I…" Heero broke off, making a sound of frustrated exasperation.

"Well you obviously are upsetting him! Which is the last thing you should be doing! He's… He's…"

I couldn't take it anymore. I slammed my arms down on the table full force, again and again and again, the pain sweeping through my mind like a soothing balm. They both turned to stare at me with wide eyes, Sally's hand flying up to cover her mouth. Finally I stopped, clenching my fists and taking deep breaths, riding the waves of pain that continued to throb up my arms.

"I'm what, Sally? Fragile? Delicate? Or maybe… crazy?" I asked, unable to hide the bitter tone in my voice.

"Duo…" Sally murmured softly. Heero was still staring at me, eyes wide and horrified. My gut twisted. Shame overwhelmed me. I looked away, grimacing. My arms continued to throb, but it was fading. I wanted to smash them against the table again, harder and harder. To feel the pain, the physical pain, and nothing else. But I didn't dare. The reckless anger from moments before was already fading, leaving behind only cold dread and hollow emptiness.

"I'm… I'm just me," I said helplessly. There wasn't anything else I could say, and I couldn't stand their eyes on me anymore, so I did the only thing I could. I turned tail and fled.

I was scared that they might try to stop me, but apparently I needn't have worried. No one came after me. I left them behind in the kitchen and ran upstairs. I had no destination in mind, but soon found myself in the same rec room that had witnessed yesterday's disaster. I eyed the wet bar as I paced the room, frantic, restless energy humming along my veins. Stupid. It would be so incredibly, unbelievably stupid.

I walked over to the bar.

Who cared, anyway? Who were they to judge me and what I needed? Because I really did need it. Right then I needed the numbness more than anything in the world. I grabbed the bottle of vodka and a can of pop from the fridge and quickly made myself a drink. I swallowed half the glass back in two swallows. Almost immediately I felt sick, even as the alcohol burned a warm, comforting path down my throat. My stomach churned and protested. I dashed to the sink and threw up the meal I'd just eaten.

When I was done I sank to my knees and pressed my head against the cupboard beneath the sink. My insides felt… tight. All through my chest and down to my gut, it was all just… tight. Tension, stress, anxiety… fear.

And I hated myself. I hated myself so much.

The nausea didn't matter as much as the pain. I needed to kill this pain. I walked back over to the bar, downed the rest of my drink, and proceeded to mix myself another one. I sipped at the second one, relishing the fire, the slowly spreading numbness. I wandered over to turn on the stereo before collapsing into a chair. I didn't bother with the headphones. There really didn't seem to be a point.

I spent the rest of the afternoon undisturbed, consuming drink after drink and drowning in loud, depressing music. I tried to pretend that the alcohol-induced numbness banished all the bad things in my head, but I knew it wasn't true. Nothing could completely banish the horrible aching in my chest, or all the pain in my mind. So… why was I doing it? Why was I doing something so obviously stupid and self-destructive when it couldn't even really help? When it was, in fact, ultimately making things worse?

I had no answer. I couldn't explain it any more than I could explain the bruises on my arm or the cuts in my flesh. They were all just means of hurting myself, and hurting myself was something I couldn't help but do. I deserved it. Of that I was very certain.

I continued to drink, and eventually the world faded away.

When I woke again at first I didn't know where I was. But I had a pounding headache and a nasty taste in my mouth. The all-too-familiar signs of a hangover. I groaned and rolled over, and it was then that I realized that I was in a bed. I blinked in confusion before half sitting up to peer blearily around the darkened room. It was my own bedroom, and the level of light led me to believe that it was very early morning. But how did I get here? The last thing I remembered was being in the upstairs rec room, getting very, very drunk. Somehow I didn't think I'd stumbled back here on my own. With a start I realized that I was even changed into a t-shirt and boxers instead of the clothes I'd been wearing yesterday. Someone… someone had changed my clothes? Had… had seen me?

I fell back against the pillow, bile rising in my throat and not just from the hangover. Part of me even wondered why I bothered to feel ashamed at this new development. Was it really any worse than anything else that had happened this past week? Fuck, had it really been just a week?

As I mulled it over in my mind I realized that it had been a week. It was Saturday morning, and it had been last Saturday that Heero, Hilde and Sally had shown up at the door of my shitty little apartment back on L2. So much had happened in such a short time. Everything had fallen apart. But then, 'everything' hadn't been much to begin with. Where… where had it all gone so wrong?

Well, no earth-shattering insights were likely to come to me as a lay in a hungover ball of misery, and my bladder was demanding relief, so I stumbled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. The pounding in my head intensified in protest. After my bladder was emptied, my stomach seemed to decide, well, since we're here anyway… I fell to my knees and vomited into the toilet.

Afterwards I moved to the sink on rubbery legs, and proceeded to brush my teeth in an attempt to banish the disgusting taste from my mouth. I would have given anything for some painkillers, but knew there wouldn't be any to be had around here after the 'incident'. My stomach churned again, but I forced it back. Instead, I downed a few glasses of water in an attempt to re-hydrate my brain. Finally, I stumbled back into the room and collapsed wearily onto the bed.

I didn't want to think about anything. And with how I was feeling, it wasn't hard. I drifted in and out of uneasy sleep, burying my head under the blankets against the light of day. I felt so incredibly fucking miserable, and not all of it could be attributed to the hangover. I felt sick to the very core of my being. I wished desperately for the full weight of unconsciousness, but the insidious hangover kept it at bay, and I didn't have any of the over-the-counter sleeping pills I'd used under similar circumstances in the past. Probably for the best. Who knew what I'd do with them now? I curled up tighter against a renewed wave of nausea.

I didn't want to think about that any more than I wanted to think about anything else. Fuck, I was probably lucky I hadn't killed myself accidentally, after all the times I'd combined alcohol and sleeping pills in the past.

I was so fucked up.

It was hours later that my misery was disturbed. There was a gentle knock at my door. True sleep had eluded me, and I felt worse than ever, and most definitely not up to seeing anyone. The knock came again, a little louder. I pulled the blankets over my head, wishing whoever it was would just go away, knowing I probably wouldn't be that lucky. Sure enough, a few moments later I heard the soft click of the door opening. I curled tighter into myself, dread twisting my stomach.

The rich smell of soup wafted across my nose and almost against my will I felt my stomach growl in response. I'd only had one meal the day before, and even it had been lost when I'd thrown it back up. My body screamed for nourishment, despite my lingering sickness.

"Duo?" a soft voice called. Hilde. Of course. Who else would it have been?

I peered at her over my blankets, knowing it was pointless to ignore her. I expected, at the very least, an uneasy expression, but she looked… normal. She stood a few feet from the bed, a tray in her hands.

"I brought you some food," she said. "I thought you might be hungry."

There really was no escape. Where the hell would I go? And I was hungry. I shifted up until I was sitting against the headboard and looked at her warily. I felt horribly self-conscious, wearing only short sleeves. She put the tray on my lap and then sat in the desk chair, smiling at me softly. It was a little unnerving. I looked down at the tray. A steaming bowl of soup that made my mouth water. A cup of what smelled like strong green tea. I dug in, avoiding Hilde's gaze.

The food was good, gentle on my still queasy stomach. I ate quietly, still unable to meet her gaze. After I finished eating and pushed the tray away, the silence stretched on. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I forced myself to look her, but could not quite meet her eyes.

"What?" I said, "What do you want?" I hated the defensive edge to my voice. She took a deep breath and looked away, seeming to weigh her words carefully. I scowled. Was this how it was going to be now? Everyone walking on eggshells around me? Afraid they might upset the crazy person? I didn't want that. It would be just as bad as open condemnation, in its own way. I just wanted… I just wanted to be treated like I was normal. Finally, she looked back at me.

"I don't want anything from you, Duo. I just want to be here for you," she said firmly.

"Be… be here for me?" I asked, a note of incredulity creeping into my voice.

"Yes. Be here for you," she repeated, her gaze unwavering. "I meant everything we talked about the day before yesterday. Nothing's going to change that. I've been doing more reading, and more than that I know what's in my heart. I'm your friend, Duo, and I'm going to be here for you. To help you when you need it, to try to figure this all out together, or to just simply be there when we both have no clue as to what to do, but so that you won't be going through it alone. You're not going to be alone, Duo. Not in this. Not anymore."

I could only stare at her, momentarily struck speechless. She stared back evenly, her gaze determined and unwavering.

"How… how can you say that?" I asked after pulling myself together enough to speak. "After everything… everything that I've done. Everything that I've put you through. How come you're not… running away?"

There. I'd said it. Given voice to one of my deepest fears. My whole body tensed, almost wanting to curl in on itself, dreading her response. Because out of all of my fears of their many and varied possible reactions to me and my craziness, each more horrible than the last, this one was the most horrible. That they would openly condemn me, would openly be disgusted with me. And that they would leave me. And then I would be more truly alone than I had ever been in my life. I knew I wouldn't survive it. If that were to happen, I would end my life at the earliest opportunity.

"I can say it because I mean it," she replied firmly. "And as for… everything that's happened…. I'm not going to say it's all alright, because it's not. But none of it changes how I feel. I'm not going to run away. We're going to get through this. I don't pretend to know how, but I believe we will. I believe in you." My heart contracted painfully in my chest and tears pricked at my eyes. I had to look away.

"How can you believe in me when I don't even believe in myself?" I breathed, a desperate edge to my voice.

"Because I'm your friend," she said simply.

I blinked, blood rushing in my ears. Too much. It was too much. I slowly raised my head to look at her.

"Can you believe in a friend that does this?" I whispered, stretching out my bare arms and raising them to show her.

Scars look shocking. Even if you're expecting them. Even if you know they're there. Scars look shocking. It almost hurts to look at them, as you can't help but imagine how it felt as the skin was cruelly sliced apart. To know the wounds were self-inflicted makes it all the worse, all the more horrible to see. I braced myself, my stomach a tight knot of dread, waiting for her response.

Hilde looked at my out-stretched arms. At the flesh criss-crossed with angry lines in varying shades of red, pink, and white. At the freshest cuts near the crook of my left elbow, scabbed over in deepest, darkest red. At the bruises on my forearm, mottled black and purple and blue. All standing out in such stark contrast against pale white skin. I waited for her disgust, her horror, her rejection.

She did not flinch. She did not look away. Mouth pressed into a firm line, she reached out to lightly run her fingers over my skin, tracing the raised lines and textured scar tissue. My arms trembled under her touch. Finally, she lifted her eyes to meet my gaze, and I saw only sorrow reflected there. No disgust. No revulsion.

"Yes. I can," she said softly.

My chest tightened even more, so much so that I thought my ribcage might collapse inwards. I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I could not speak. I could barely even breathe. Instinctively, I curled up, drawing my knees up to my chest and burying my face against them. My whole body shook with suppressed sobs.

I just couldn't wrap my head around it. I wanted to believe it so bad, wanted to believe her. But I was afraid. So very, very afraid. It was a fear that ran to the very core of my being. I feared… rejection. I feared disgust and condemnation. But on some level… on some level I think I feared acceptance, too. And the very fact that I feared it scared me more than anything. Because why the hell should I fear such a thing? I… I wanted their acceptance, didn't I? God, I was so fucking confused. And my head was still aching and my stomach was churning and my muscles ached and I just didn't want to deal with any of this.

"Oh, Duo," Hilde murmured, moving forward to perch on the side of my bed, wrapping her arms around me. It was too much. A sob finally escaped my throat, a dry, wracking sound that made me cringe. I was so pathetic.

Her grip tightened, and it was like a dam burst. I dissolved into choking sobs. We sat like that for a long time, until my tears slowly subsided and we both sat back. I struggled to bring myself under some semblance of control, wiping tears from my face self-consciously.

"This is… becoming something of a habit, isn't it? Me hysterical in your arms," I managed to quip dryly, desperate to lighten the mood a little. She laughed, wiping at her own tear-dampened eyes.

"Oh, it's happened once or twice over the past few days," she agreed lightly. We sat in an almost companionable silence for a few more moments, collecting ourselves. I wondered if she felt nearly as drained as I did. I could see from the dark circles under her eyes and the uncharacteristic droop in her shoulders that she was certainly feeling the strain of the past week, and I felt guilty.

"I meant everything I said, you know," she said quietly, breaking the silence.

"I know," I answered. And in that moment I did know. But I also knew that it would only take another moment's fear, anxiety, or despair to drive that certainty away.

"I mean, what kind of friends would abandon someone with cancer or some other disease? So why should it be any different if the illness isn't a physical one? We're your friends and we love you, through the good times and the bad," she said fervently.

"Hey, we're not married here. Don't give me that 'in sickness and in health' crap," I joked weakly, still trying to lighten things up a bit. She stuck her tongue out at me.

"I'm trying to be serious here," she laughed.

"And I'm trying desperately to stop you," I replied with a smile. She stuck her tongue out at me again and I grinned unremorsefully. The suffocating tightness in my chest was beginning to let up, little by little.

"Fair enough," she replied, still smiling. "I guess we have had enough seriousness to last us for awhile. Just let me say one last thing. Heero is your friend, too. But he's scared, so it's making him angry and defensive. He's lashing out because he's confused. But he cares about you. Very much. Please forgive him for the way he's acting."

I had to look away at that. I didn't know what to say, and just thinking about Heero caused my stomach to flip flop. Forgive him? I was the one who was in the wrong. He had every right to be mad at me, to yell at me, to hate me….

"Well… we can talk more about that some other time," Hilde finally said, after the silence had stretched on uncomfortably. "If you're up to it, we could go to the rec room and watch a movie. Something really funny. I think we could both use it. Or… it would be okay, too, if you just wanted to stay here. I could bring in my schoolwork and sit at your desk to, you know, keep you company."

"No… I think a movie would be alright," I replied, feeling a little uncertain. I really didn't want to do anything except lie in my bed and block out the world. I still felt sick and miserable beyond description. But… I wanted to try. After everything she'd done, I wanted to try for her. Though I was very, very grateful that she'd offered me an out.

"Great!" she exclaimed. And that was that. She waited while I got dressed in the bathroom. My legs were a little unsteady, and my insides felt like they were trembling. But I was as okay as I was likely to get any time soon. I turned away from the pale, drawn face in the mirror and rejoined Hilde. We headed to the rec room to pretend that everything was right with the world, and maybe, for a little while, it would be.

TBC