Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Scar Tissue ❯ Masks ( Chapter 3 )

* * * * * * *

Part 3

I walked into the dining room and saw my four fellow ex-gundam pilots already eating breakfast. They were seated around the large oak table, helping themselves to the pancakes heaped on a serving platter. I paused for a moment in the doorway, just looking at them. Quatre was talking animatedly with Trowa, who listened attentively and nodded every now and then. I noted the closeness of their chairs, and how Quatre's body almost seemed to lean into Trowa's. I had been so relieved when they finally got together. Living with a war and the repressed sexual tension between two of your comrades was not fun, believe me. Heero and Wufei were chatting with each other as well, and Heero even laughed at something Wufei said. They'd both loosened up so much in the six months since the war had ended. It was amazing, really.

The changes weren't just in behaviour, either. They'd all grown another couple of inches, gained a little weight, and lost that war-weary look. Only I was still a shrimp. Not only had I not grown a single millimeter, but, as I mentioned before, I had actually lost weight. Next to them I must have looked positively unhealthy. That was certainly the message I'd seen reflected in their eyes when I'd arrived here yesterday and they'd seen me for the first time since shortly after the war ended.

It was strange. I trusted these four guys with my life, had fought in battle with them and risked death with them. I knew we shared a bond of common experience that was pretty special, which was why Quatre was so insistent that we stay in touch. But at that moment, standing just outside the room and looking in at them, I was overwhelmed with such a feeling of isolation that I shuddered in an effort to brush it off.

Plastering what I hoped was a convincingly cheery smile on my face, I entered the room and took the empty seat to Quatre's left. "Hey! What's up guys? Any big plans for the day?" I exclaimed, infusing my voice with as much feeling as possible. The pills I'd taken had barely even begun to kick in, so it wasn't a whole lot.

I was unnerved by the sudden silence as all conversation ceased and the four of them turned to look at me. They had the oddest looks in their eyes. Confusion? Curiosity? Maybe… concern? My mind quickly dismissed that. They were probably just not used to my "cheerfulness" after being apart for so long, that was all. I fidgeted in my seat and reached for the serving platter, helping myself to some pancakes.

After what seemed like an eternity but was actually only a moment, Quatre broke the silence. "Well, there's nothing really specific planned for the day. I thought maybe we could drive into town and go shopping. This afternoon some more people are going to come, and we're having something of a party tonight. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Yeah, Q-man, sounds awesome! Who else is coming?" I asked as I mechanically shoveled a forkful of pancake into my mouth. Finally, I was starting to feel the effects of those pills, so there was actually some excitement in my voice. I had to force myself not to grimace as I chewed the pancakes, though. They were good and everything, but I've had little to no appetite for a long time now, and those pills only made it worse. Eating was the last thing I felt like doing right now, but I knew it would've looked weird if I'd passed up breakfast.

"Well," Quatre continued, "Relena and Noin are coming, and Catherine, and so is Sally Po. Oh, and I asked Hilde to come. She's really looking forward to seeing you, since it's been so long."

"Wow, that's great man," I said before shoveling more food in my mouth. Just a little more and I could feign being full. It really would be nice to see Hilde again. I hadn't seen her since her recovery from the injuries she'd suffered in the last battle, and she'd been great company when I'd had to hide out on L2 during the war.

Whoa, I was really starting to feel the effects of those pills now. Energy was starting to hum along my nerves, and I unconsciously started fidgeting, my left foot tapping on the floor. The silence from the others was starting to get to me, too. I had to say something.

"So, uh, what have you guys been up to the last six months, huh? Anything interesting?" I asked, and then winced internally. My voice was a little louder than it had to be. I studiously ignored Quatre's inquisitive look.

The rest of breakfast was torture. I listened to Heero talk about his work with Relena's security team, Wufei describe how he was helping out with an organization that aided war refugees, Quatre discuss the various charitable foundations the Winner Corporation was in the process of setting up, and Trowa relate how well the circus was doing. It's not that I wasn't interested, I was. I even dominated the conversation with my comments, questions, and wisecracks. But I could feel the blood rushing in my ears, and my heart was beating so damned fast because of those pills. I even felt it miss a beat here and there, a most unpleasant sensation. And it was depressing hearing how well they were all doing. I was happy for them, of course, but I felt so damn pathetic and useless in comparison.

Finally, it was over. We agreed to meet in the foyer in an hour to go into town to get supplies for the get-together that night, and then went our separate ways. I just barely managed not to run as I fled to the upstairs bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were wide and round, the pupils dilated. I took several deep breaths. My heart was still beating too fast. My head was practically swimming, and I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin. Damn it, Maxwell, you're high! I thought to myself. How could the others not have noticed? They would have said something if they had, right?

I stepped back from the mirror and leaned against the wall, my rapidly beating heart constricting painfully in my chest. I had to swallow back tears that were suddenly threatening to spill out. Why would they have noticed? They've never noticed anything about me before. They always readily accepted the clown, the joker I pretended to be, and they never looked any further. We shared the bond of being Gundam pilots, but they didn't know me, the real me. And they probably didn't care to. I couldn't really blame them, either. Who would want to?

A little voice at the back of my brain told me that I've never really given them a chance to know the real me, and I can't deny the truth of that. I sighed and banged my head back against the wall, hard enough that I saw black spots for a moment. Why am I so stupid? Any smart person would open up, and share with the people who supposedly cared about them. But I'd die before I told anyone about how I felt, and what I did. I'd die if anyone ever found out. The very thought of someone knowing that about me was enough to make me weak in the knees. And I couldn't make myself believe that the others would care. In fact, I was sure that they would be horrified, disgusted, and repulsed. How could they not be, when I was horrified, disgusted, and repulsed by the fact that I mutilated my own skin? No, no one could ever know.

I shuddered, the familiar self-hatred coiling in my stomach. I had to do something. I couldn't just stand there anymore. I found myself reaching for the toiletry bag on the counter, for the razor blade case inside. My hand was trembling, but whether it was from the energy pills or something else, I couldn't say. I stared at the blade with grim acceptance for a moment before pulling up my left shirtsleeve. I placed the blade against the pale skin, practically at the crook of my elbow. I drew a shaky breath and then pressed it into my skin, the pain sharp and sudden as the blade cut deep. I began to draw the blade through the flesh, slowly, agonizingly, my eyes going foggy from the pain. Finally I stopped and looked down. I felt my stomach turn in on itself. The cut was deep, very deep. Blood was running down my arm in glistening dark red rivulets, and as I watched it started to drip onto the tile floor. I hastily brought the cut up to my lips, lapping at it with my tongue to stop the flow. The taste sent a chill down my spine. Suddenly I felt faint and I sat down hard on the floor, tongue still licking the flow of blood. I sat like that a moment, until it registered that the cut wasn't bleeding as much. I numbly reached out and grabbed a handful of toilet paper, placing it over the cut and applying pressure

I felt sick to my stomach. I don't know if it was because of the pills, or because I forced myself to eat those pancakes, or because of what I was feeling. Maybe it was all three. I just sat there and let my mind wander as I stared, transfixed, at the drops of blood on the floor. My blood. My blood that I had spilled. As my mind continued to drift, I found myself thinking back on the time that I had come closest to letting my guard down, and telling someone the truth….

TBC