Duo quietly walked into the large house, trying to be as 'stealthy' as possible. Although, when you're completely wasted, it doesn't work too well. He smashed his shin into a table and cursed loudly, abruptly alerting Quatre that he had returned home. The Arabian ran to his side, a worried expression on his face.

"Duo, thank God! Where have you been! I've been worried sick! What happened with Heero!"

Duo just glared at his friend, wanting to go to his room as quickly as possible. "Just leave me alone, Quat," he slurred, lightly pushing his friend aside.

He stumbled up the stairs and into his room, where he shut the door and locked it behind him. His vision kept going in and out of fuzziness as he walked over to a bedstand and opened a drawer, grabbing a box cutter. He went into his attached bathroom and closed the door, locking that as well. Duo looked at his reflection in the mirror, disgusted with himself. The swollen bruise hadn't decreased in size, in fact it appeared to him it was getting bigger. He sighed.

"You're nothing without him, Maxwell."

He looked down in his hand and pushed up the blade from the box cutter, and ran it down his scar-ridden arm. He didn't like to cut. He hadn't done it in such a long time. But he felt he had to. At first he was just making deep cuts on his arm, although being in the drunken state he was in, he hardly felt any sort of pain or sting. The blood pooled out of the gashes; droplets of the red substance fell to the floor. Duo leaned up against the cool tile in his shower, slowly sliding down, sitting in the tub. He was crying, streams of tears wouldn't cease falling down his face. He looked at his arm, then closed his eyes.

'This is for you Heero. You were my one. You were my only. You were the only person I ever cared about. Yet you just shut me out of your life as if I'm nothing...I love you...'

Opening his eyes again he continued to stare at his arm. He brought up the blood-stained blade and began to carve letters into his skin. His breathing began to shorten, he would only take in a few deep breaths every minute or so, and he began to feel dizzy.

Eventually the letters spelled out "Heero" and "Lost" on his arm. The tub he was sitting in was blood stained. He obviously hit a very large vein - He never had bled this much before. Duo opened his eyes and turned on the shower, cold water stabbing his body like a thousand knvies all at once. The blood drained away, though the water was always red. No matter what, he kept bleeding, though. Duo didn't seem to care.

'I guess this is the end.'

He lengthened the blade a little bit more, and brought it back behind his head. Carefully, in one big slash, Duo had cut off his braid. The braid that symbolized happiness and hope now symbolized hate and regret. He threw it, along with the box cutter, to the ground, closing his eyes.

It doesn't matter /

Its all a waste /

It's the fate of a shunned man /

We're given wings /

But then they're taken away /

They're taken away /

They're fucking taken /

He was now coming in and out of consciousness, and didn't have the strength to move. Blood pooled around him. Glancing at his braid for the last time, he whispered, "There's your fucking prize, Yuy..." Tears met with blood as the God Of Death took one last breath.

You could destroy yourself /

You should destroy yourself /

I'll teach you how to destroy an angel /

There's nothing I can't get through /

I'll teach you how to destroy an angel /

There's nothing I can't see /

I'll teach you how to destroy an angel /

There's nothing I can't break though /

I'll teach you how to destroy yourself... /