Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Gundam Seed. If I did, well... Let's just say, a few things would have been different. (Nicol! Tolle! Mu! Waaaah!)

Warning: There's some violent stuff coming up, guys. I don't really know how to explain without giving the story away, so... It's not that graphic, but... yeah. Just so ya know.

A door slammed. The pounding of feet grew louder and louder, until they reached a crescendo and stopped suddenly. Another door slammed.

"Nicol?"

Nicol's mother stared up the set of stairs that led to her son's bedroom, a worried expression in her eyes. He had been acting strangely for a long time, but had only recently become so secretive. She really had no idea what to do with him or herself. Every time she looked at a child psychology book, trying to find the diagnosis to his symptoms, she was overcome by such a sense of dread that she had to stop reading. She wanted to help him, but all of the answers she found - on the internet, in books, from her friends - all of them pointed to the same thing. She just wasn't ready to accept that as the reason for her son's strange behaviour. She wasn't ready to face that as a possibility. She forced herself to believe that it was simply part of being a teenager; raging hormones caused all sorts of strange behavioural patterns. All the books said so. So it couldn't be that. It couldn't be what all of her friends suspected it was. It couldn't be what any reasonable psychologist would think it was. It just wasn't possible. Not her Nicol. Not her little piano star. Not her beloved only child. Things like that didn't happen to people like him. He was special. He had too much talent. She forced herself to believe that, but some small part of her still knew the undeniable truth. The truth that, no matter how special he was, no matter what his age was, Nicol still had a problem, and his own mother didn't know how to deal with it.

"Nicol... what would your father do...?"

Nicol's mother walked over to a wall, where the portrait of a handsome older man hung proudly. Staring forlornly at it, she let her mind wander. This man was Nicol's father. He had served overseas in the military until two months ago, when he had been killed tragically in a terrorist attack. It had been tough on the whole family to have him away from home for so long, but when he had been killed, it seemed as though Nicol hadn't taken any notice. Perhaps it had been because neither was never at home for long; Nicol was always busy with his piano recitals and lessons, his father was always overseas or training; and so Nicol didn't get a chance to bond with his father the same way that other children did. Even so, it was strange that somebody would give his dead father the cold shoulder.

"What should I do with our son...?" Nicol's mother placed her hand lightly on the portrait, then hung her head. After a moment, small water stains appeared on the carpet as tears dripped from beneath her long green hair.

"Nicol... What should I do with you?... I don't know what to do anymore... Nicol... Please don't..."

Then she gave herself over totally to her quiet crying, her body heaving with silent sobs.

Meanwhile, upstairs in his room, Nicol was also crying. Why had he let such a horrible thing happen, especially after the day had begun so well?

"I'm so stupid! I'm weak! I'm pathetic! The only reason... I couldn't even help you...!"

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees and fists gripping his green hair as tight as they possibly could. His eyes were clenched shut with the effort of trying to block out the images that had tortured him all afternoon. His backpack was thrown into a corner of the room, contents strewn everywhere. His normally tidy room was covered with broken objects, crumpled pieces of paper and wrinkled clothes, a result of the crazed state he had only just recovered from. Whenever he had a day like today, things like this happened. He would go berserk, taking out his anger on his room. That, however, only worked for getting rid of his anger, nothing else. That wasn't the only emotion Nicol was feeling. There was another, this one much worse and much more difficult to deal with.

Nicol stopped crying and looked up. He could only handle it this way. There was nothing else he could do. He deserved it. He knew that, he had always known that. But if there was one person who didn't deserve what had happened to her today, it was Heart. And it was all his fault it that any of it had happened at all.

Reaching over, he opened his endtable's small drawer. He didn't even have to look to find what he was searching for. Slowly, arm trembling, he pulled out a small razor blade. As he leaned back onto the bed, flashbacks of the day's events started running through his mind.

"Hey, losers."

Dearka and Yzak, Nicol's tormentors since his early youth, approached he and Heart as they were heading home after school.

"What do you two want?" asked Heart steadily. She knew exactly how the two bullies treated Nicol, and she wasn't about to let anything happen to him. Still, she was a lot smaller than either Dearka or Yzak, and couldn't do much physically to stop them.

"Just you, little whore." Before Heart or Nicol could react, Dearka had stepped forward and grabbed Heart by the wrists, pulling her into him. Transferring her wrists into one hand, Dearka held them behind her back as he covered her mouth with his other hand. Nicol stepped forward instinctively, but was stopped by Yzak, who stood between him and the other two.

"Hehe..." Dearka flashed his trademark smirk over Yzak's shoulder, at Nicol, and said, "Want your little girlfriend back, piano boy?"

Nicol just stood there helplessly, unable to get past Yzak. "Let her go, Dearka. Please."

"Ha!" Yzak laughed in a jarring, rough voice. "Hear that, Dearka? Poor widdle piano boy wants you to let her go - pleeeeease."

Dearka continued to smirk. "Not until I've had my fun."

Nicol saw Heart's eyes go wide. She began struggling against Dearka's grip, but he only seemed to hold her tighter, because she winced and let out a small whimper from behind his hand.

"Stop it!"

Dearka spun Heart around so that she was face-to-face with him. He brought his hand, the one holding her wrists, up to his chest. Then he took his other hand off of her mouth and, putting it on the back of her head, pushed her lips to his aggressively.

Heart let out a muffled shriek. Nicol jumped forward, but was immediately forced onto the ground by Yzak, who grinned and raised his right fist. Holding a stunned Nicol to the ground by gripping the gifted pianist's collar with his left hand, Yzak whispered, "Dearka wants you to watch him have his way with your girlfriend, but I want to enjoy myself too." He proceeded to punch Nicol in the face, making the younger boy cry out in shock and pain.

Heart heard the familiar sound of Nicol's pained cry, and tried to shove Dearka away, but the blonde only pushed her small frame into him harder and harder. Dearka forced his tongue into her mouth, and Heart couldn't do anything about it. She could hear Nicol cry out again as Yzak began beating on him mercilessly, just as Nicol could hear Heart's muffled whimpers and shrieks as Dearka's tongue penetrated her mouth. The two of them were equally helpless.

"Hey!"

Yzak paused from his gleeful punishment of Nicol and looked up to see a boy about his age running towards them.

"Shit. It's Athrun."

Dearka also stopped and looked up. Heart gasped as soon as mouth was free of Dearka's tongue, filling her lungs with much-needed oxygen.

"Aw, man. Just when I was really getting into it." Dearka shoved Heart away suddenly, causing her to fall to the ground. "Let's go, Yzak."

The two bullies had just disappeared from view when the dark-haired boy named Athrun reached Heart and Nicol. The two were both in pretty bad shape; Heart's wrists were raw from straining against Dearka, and Nicol - well, Nicol had endured a thorough beating. His entire face was swollen, black beginning to appear around his left eye. He was bruised on almost every visible part of his skin, and his nose was bleeding slightly.

"Hey, Nicol!" Athrun crouched down, concern evident in his expression. "Are you okay, man?"

"I'm fine," replied Nicol as he sat up quickly. "Heart - where -"

Glancing around, he saw Heart sitting on the ground, facing away from him.

"Heart!"

He scrambled over to her, panic in his eyes.

"Heart... I'm sorry! I couldn't... I would've... I'm so sorry!"

Heart turned around slowly. Then, facing Nicol, she smiled.

"I'm fine! Don't worry. It wasn't your fault. Are you okay?"

Nicol winced when he heard the worry in her voice. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah."

"Those guys are assholes," said Athrun vehemently.

"Yeah..." Nicol sighed. He had done it again. He had been weak. He had let Heart get hurt.

"I'm so stupid."

Nicol let this thought escape his lips as he gently set the razor blade down on the endtable's polished surface. Then, slowly, he pulled up his left sleeve. Even after all this time, even though he had done this so often, he still couldn't help but cringe at the sight that greeted him.

His entire left arm was crisscrossed with red scars, some old and pale, some so fresh that they had to have been made yesterday. They began at his wrist and disappeared under his bunched-up sleeve, deep red marks that were the byproduct of one young man's loneliness and suffering. This was how he dealt with that other emotion. The emotion that ripped him apart, that tore at his soul every day, that made him want to stop, want to let go, want to end this pathetic tragedy. This emotion was called pain, but was much more complex than a simple combination of four letters. Nicol had run out of ways to deal with it. He had tried ignoring it; he had tried telling people; he had even tried to kill himself. But he didn't have the courage. He was too weak. So he tortured himself every day, cursing himself for his weakness, for his inability to do anything about what was happening to him.

Not taking his eyes off of his mutilated arm, Nicol once again reached over and picked up the razor blade. Holding it steady, he slowly drew it downwards until the blade grazed his skin, right in the middle of his forearm. Then, taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and pressed the sharp steel into himself.

"Ah-!"

He gasped, but stopped himself from making any other noise. He wouldn't let the pain be released that way. He would force himself to feel every second of it. Keeping the blade embedded in his skin, Nicol slowly began to pull it up the length of his arm. This would be the longest scar yet, he thought to himself, somehow feeling morbid pleasure at the bite of metal in his soft skin.

Drops of blood began to course their way down his arm. They joined together and formed small rivulets that dripped off of his wrist and hit the floor, creating dark stains in the blue carpet. Still he went on, his mind hurling insults at him that he silently agreed to.

Stupid idiot. Can't save anybody. Can't even help your best friend when she's about to get raped by someone barely a year older than you. Can't do anything, crybaby, weakling, pathetic excuse for a human. Your piano is just a facade. You can't really do anything. Nothing at all. Pathetic weakling.

Finally, when the blade had reached the crook of his arm, Nicol stopped. In a moment, tears were intermingled with the blood on his arm, their saltiness stinging the open wound that Nicol had just inflicted upon himself. He couldn't help but cry, the same way his mother was crying downstairs; silent sobs, tears streaming down his face, eyes clenched shut as tightly as possible. He knew that he deserved this pain, he knew that it was his only way of making up for what he had done - or, really, what he hadn't been able to do.

"Heart... I'm sorry... please... please forgive me... I'm not worth what you give to me."

There! A new chapter! And it's really long, hooray! Sorry I've been so stingy with the chappie length, guys. But now the drama has arrived! I'm always better at writing stuff after the story's been established a bit.

Also! Thank you extremely much to my lovely reviewers, who came back even after I hadn't updated in so long! Sorry for pestering you about having a new chapter up. I lurv you soooooo much!

Review Replies! A new feature!

Miriallia: I love Nicol too! You'll probably be mad at me for what I do to him in this chapter... I'm sowwy! pooly eyes

Haruka Mizumi: Aww, you're not dumb! I'm bad at describing people. And I probably wouldn't have noticed either. But now we know who it is, yay! And lots of other GS characters will be making cameos and things too! So stay tuned!