Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Bleeding On the Inside ❯ Black Dove ( Chapter 15 )

Disclaimer: I own nothing except this story.

Warnings: Angst, rape, yaoi, and 3x4/1x2 content, child abuse.

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BLACK DOVE (JANUARY GIRL)

She was a January girl

she never let on how insane it was

in that tiny kinda scary house

by the woods

by the woods

by the woods

black-dove black-dove

you´re not a helicopter

you´re not a cop out either honey

black-dove black-dove

you don't need a space ship

they don't know you've already lived

on the other side of the galaxy

she had a january world

so many storms not right somehow

of how a lion becomes a mouse

by the woods

but i have to get to TEXAS

said i have to get to TEXAS

and I'll give away my blue blue dress

she had a january girl

she never let on how insane it was

in that tiny kinda scary house

by the woods

by the woods

by the woods

black-dove

Tori Amos

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Bleeding On the Inside - Chapter 15 - Black Dove

"What do you mean you can't tell me?" Trowa's hands slammed down on the counter as he tried, rather unsuccessfully, to hide the anger in his voice. The officer at the front desk glared at him and turned to speak with Wufei, who had managed to keep his composure thus far.

"The details of Mr. Winner's statement are confidential, as is anything else regarding his case," she replied, her voice clipped and cold and utterly dismissive.

Trowa was about to speak again but Wufei cut in, afraid that his friend might say something that would be regretted later.

"What if Mr. Winner gave us permission to look at his files. Would that do?" he asked smoothly, only the faint trembling of his hand betraying his anxiety.

The officer nodded. "Yes, if Mr. Winner personally give his consent then you may look at his files, but he must come here in person, with identification, and request this action," she said.

"Thank you," Wufei replied, "we shall see to it that he does.'

But Trowa wasn't quite finished yet.

"I'd also like to lodge a complaint about the detective that handled Quatre's statement," he said, his lip curling as if he would like to have that detective in front of him at that moment so he could punch him.

The officer blinked, looking surprised. "May I ask why?"

"He LIED to him!" Trowa cried, fury obvious in his blazing green eyes. "He told Quatre that they had video surveillance tapes of the change room he was in but there were no cameras. They lied to get him to change his statement!"

The officer bit her lip and glanced nervously down at her hands, as if unsure of how to handle the situation. The young man before her was obviously distraught and she didn't think he'd like to hear what she had to say on this subject.

"I know that you must feel angry," she said, "but technically, it is legal for the interrogator to lie during questioning and statement taking to make sure that no false allegations are taking place."

This time it was Wufei who snapped.

"You mean they're actually ALLOWED to lie and coerce people to change their statements? That's absurd!" he cried.

"No," Trowa seethed. "It's bullshit. I'm taking this to court."

"I'm afraid you won't get very far Mr. Barton," said the officer. "By his own admission, Quatre confessed that he was imagining things, that the attack never happened. The case has been closed. There's nothing you can do."

Trowa's hands closed into fists and he had to take a moment to steady his breathing. His eyes burned holes in the floor as he fought for control. Beside him, Wufei swallowed hard, nausea making his stomach roil.

"This is a travesty of justice," he hissed. "How can you sit there and let a rapist walk free?"

Trowa leaned in and spoke in a soft, cold voice.

"If this is 'to serve and protect'," he said, spitting the words as if they tasted foul to him, "then God help us all."

He then grabbed Wufei by the arm and together they stalked out of the station, eager to get away from the oppressive, frustrating atmosphere given off by the setting. Wufei watched Trowa's face worriedly as they walked, hoping the boy would let out some of the anger he was feeling. But the stoic circus performer stayed silent and his eyes looked straight ahead, as if entirely focused on the road in front of them. Sighing, Wufei wondered just what they were going to tell Quatre when they got back to the house.

'I hope Heero has better luck at the store.'

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"So…"

Duo led Quatre to the couch in the living room and stood in front of him, hands clasped nervously as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with them.

"Do ya want anything to eat? I can make toast. Or grilled cheese, even! That's just toast with cheese in the middle, right? Even I can't screw up that," Duo said, attempting a small joke.

Quatre smiled briefly but the small curvature of his lips disappeared all too quickly and Duo could not be certain that it happened.

"Actually I'm not really hungry," Quatre said.

Duo frowned. "Quatre," he warned. "You need to eat-"

"I know!"

The shouted exclamation surprised both boys and Quatre winced a little at the harshness of his tone.

"Sorry Duo," he whispered, his eyes looking downwards. "It's just that it feels like I don't have control over anything anymore…"

Duo sat down beside him and stroked the fine golden hairs that covered his forehead.

"I know buddy," he whispered back, embracing his friend gently. "I know."

Quatre bit his lip, determined not to cry anymore. He's already wasted enough tears on this. He wasn't a baby. He was a Gundam pilot. And he could handle this, he could, he just had to…had to…

'What? Forget? I'll never be able to do that,' he thought, bitterly. 'Let's face it, my life's pretty much ruined now. I'm soiled. Damaged goods. I'm not Quatre anymore. I'm the boy who was raped.'

Duo felt Quatre stiffening in his arms and he let go hastily, thinking that he had scared the boy.

'Way to go, Maxwell,' he berated himself. 'Just hug the guy who probably doesn't want to be touched. I'm such a dumbass bastard.'

"So uh…want to watch some t.v. Quat? There must be something on. We get fifty milllion channels," he grumbled, having already grabbed the remote and turned on the television.

"It's probably only something like five hundred channels," Quatre corrected, but he was grateful for the change in subject so he curled up by Duo's side and watched lazily as he flipped through the channels.

Finally they both agreed on the news, Quatre because he wanted to see the coverage of the OZ peace talks that were taking place in a few days, Duo because he wanted to see if he and Deathscythe had gotten on t.v. again. At first everything was normal. Duo was cracking jokes about the anchorman's obvious toupee and booing loudly at the picture of Lady Une that appeared on the screen when mention of the peace talks came up. Quatre was beginning to relax and let himself become distracted by the issues of the world. And then…

"In other news a mother is outraged by the decision of the Supreme Court to let convicted child molester Ogar Calthy off with a light sentence of three months in prison and two years probation. The 53 year old man confessed to molesting a young girl on numerous occasions over a three year period. The court was told that the accused exposed himself and then touched the girl inappropriately in his cabin a Tawirner Lake from A.C. 192 to 195. The victim was seven years old when the abuse occurred. The mother of the girl stormed out of the courtroom following the sentencing. When asked why the sentence was so light she replied that the Judge did not consider Calthy a 'risk to the community' and he showed 'true remorse' for his actions-"

The screen faded to black as Duo frantically clawed at the button to turn the television off. Thick silence permeated the room. The tick-tick of the clock in the kitchen echoed loudly in Duo's ears. He turned to Quatre, a worried look on his face.

The boy sat still as stone, his eyes wide and teary, his breath hitched and labored. His hands were clenched into tight fists, knuckles turning white with the lack of circulation. Cautiously, Duo laid a hand on Quatre's shoulder.

"Quatre?"

The boy started, forced a shaky smile. "I'm fine."

Duo felt Quatre tremble under his hand, saw the haunted look in his eyes. "Quatre…"

"No really!" the Arabian insisted. "I'm fine. I'm okay. It's okay."

Something in Duo snapped at the moment. All the anger, all the helplessness, all the frustration and guilt he was feeling erupted. With a great heave he threw the remote control at the wall, shattering it into pieces.

"NO!" he exploded. "It's NOT okay! It's not OKAY! There's nothing okay about this! Nothing is FUCKING okay!! It's SHIT! SHIT! Damn it all to HELL!"

Cursing violently, Duo reached for one of the pillows on the couch and punched it soundly, over and over again, yelling hoarsely.

"Please…" Quatre whimpered, covering his ears against the shouting, "please Duo…"

"Eurrrrgh!" Duo screamed, giving one last vicious punch to the now ripped and battered pillow. Breathing heavily, Duo let out an anguished moan, his head bowing as he fought to repress his tears.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, his arms reaching around himself in a defensive gesture. "I'm sorry."

Quatre approached him slowly, his voice calm and soothing despite his own tears.

"Duo…"

"What's going on here?"

Both heads looked up to see a familiar face in the doorway, his concerned blue eyes sweeping the scene.

"Heero," Quatre breathed, something like relief in his voice.

The Japanese boy saw the tears on both boys' faces and noticed the way Duo's shoulders shook minutely. He frowned.

"What happened? Duo?"

When that piercing stare landed on the braided pilot, he broke.

"Take care of Quatre for me, will you Hee-man," Duo said, brushing past the boy and running out of the room.

"Duo wait!" Quatre cried, but he was already pounding up the stairs to the room he shared with Heero.

"What's going on, Quatre?" Heero asked, a bit frustrated and a lot worried.

The blond Arabian shook his head, unable to express in words what had just taken place.

"You'd better go talk to him Heero."

"But what about you?"

"He needs you more then I do now. Trust me, I'll be fine. I'm not an invalid, I can manage for myself for a few moments," Quatre insisted wryly.

Heero nodded and went to follow Duo up the stairs. Quatre watched him go and sighed, wondering when Trowa and Wufei would get back, hoping it would be soon. After a few useless moments of standing still, he got out a garbage bag and started to pick the fragments of the remote control off of the floor, trying to keep his mind off of the conversation that was most certainly happening above him, in Duo and Heero's room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Heero stopped just outside the closed door, listening to the muffled sounds coming from behind it. Duo hated for anyone to see him cry, especially Heero, and he didn't want to make the boy upset…

'Who are you kidding Yuy? He's already upset. Just go in and comfort your boyfriend already you fucking idiot.'

Knocking briefly on the door, Heero swung it open and stepped inside. At first it appeared the room was empty, but when he walked a little further in, he could see that Duo was curled up on the floor behind the bed, his braid trailing out around the bedpost. Little sniffles and choked sobs could be heard and Heero winced, wanting to pummel whatever was making his lover sound that way.

"Duo…" he said softly, coming around to kneel beside the boy who had his face between his drawn-up knees, his arms clasped tightly around his legs, shoulders heaving as he cried.

"Go away Heero," Duo gasped, not looking up from his dark cocoon.

Heero shook his head. "No." And again, "No. I'm not going away Duo. I'm staying here with you. I'm staying right here with you."

"Are you stupid Yuy?" Duo said, his voice breaking on the last word. "I said GO AWAY."

"No. I'm not going anywhere. Not right now. Duo I know you're upset-"

A noise that was halfway between a laugh and a sob escaped Duo's throat and the bitterness of it made Heero shiver.

"Upset? Oh no. I'm not upset at all. I've no reason to be upset. After all these things happen every Goddamn day don't they? It's just one of those things-" Duo choked out and hid his face once more, chocolate brown bangs clustering in damp clumps against his forehead.

Heero inched closer, putting his arms awkwardly around the shaking boy and pulling him against his chest. Rubbing his hands along his back in a way he hoped was comforting, Heero whispered quick words into Duo's hair.

"Let it out, Duo. It's okay to feel this way. You don't need to keep it all inside," he murmured.

"My fault," Duo mumbled, his hands coming up to clutch weakly at his boyfriend's strong arms.

Heero held him tighter, trying to make sense of that ridiculous statement.

"How?" he whispered. "How is it your fault? You didn't know this was going to happen. You weren't even there-"

"EXACTLY," Duo shouted, pushing away from Heero. "I wasn't there. I could have offered to go to the store with Quatre. God, he asked me if I wanted to come along but I told him no. I just sat around here on my ass, eating and watching t.v. while some…some monster did…did…" Duo swallowed, tasting the salt of his tears in his throat. His hands twitched and he fought to hold them still as he stared into Heero's impassive face.

"You see? If I wasn't such a lazy, selfish motherfucker I would have been there. But I wasn't. I wasn't there. And it happened again," Duo said, darkly.

"Again?" Heero repeated, but Duo didn't appear to have heard him.

"They all end up getting hurt because of me. Everybody gets hurt because of me. I should have known better then to make friends. I should have known better then to-"

"Hey, hey," Heero protested, one hand reaching out to cup Duo's chin, drawing it up so that their eyes met. "It wasn't your fault," he said. "Listen to me. It wasn't your fault. Do you hear? It wasn't your fault."

Duo's mouth fell open, gasping as he struggled to form the words, the questions he needed answers to. "It has to be," he said, "it has to be my fault."

"Why?"

But Duo didn't know why. And so there was no answer. There were no answers for either of them.

"It's going to be okay," Heero lied, rocking Duo in his arms, wishing that just once, he could let the tears that burned in his eyes fall. "It's going to be okay."

They both knew better. But for now, they believed, believed in the lie that stood between them and darkness. Heero took from Duo's tears and Duo took from Heero's strength and for a while, they had unity again. They sat in silence, no words needed, no words appropriate for the situation. Duo's head curled into the juncture of Heero's neck and the Japanese boy entwined their limbs together, resting his own head for a moment. Clinging together like children, they each hid from their own ghosts, warding off the outside world with a shield of skin and bone.

'It's funny,' Duo thought, sighing deeply. 'I always feel safe in his arms.'

"Duo?"

"Don't speak. Let me…let me stay like this. Just for a little while…"

Heero nodded, stroking his lover's cheek with long callused fingers. He held Duo tightly and let his eyes fall shut, willing to pretend, if only for a few precious seconds, that he knew exactly what he was doing.