Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Scar Tissue ❯ Despair ( Chapter 8 )

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Part 8

My head was one massive knot of pain.

Hmmm. This was getting to be a bit of a habit. That was my first thought when I awoke one day about a week and a half after I fled from Quatre's. Or maybe it was one night. As I blearily looked around my dreary bedroom, I wasn't quite sure if it was night or day. Or even exactly what day it was.

I sat up slowly, wincing at my pounding headache. I gave a small cry of pain as the movement set off unexpected pangs of sharp pain in my arms. I looked down. I swallowed back the sudden lump in my throat. Oh, shit. My arms were covered in dark dried blood. I even had to un-stick my left arm from the sheet, which was also caked with blood. That caused several of the cuts there to start bleeding again. Crap, how much damage had I done?

I fumbled for the bedside lamp. Stretching my arm out like that sent waves of pain up my skin. Finally I found the switch and the room was bathed in light. I blinked back tears until my eyes adjusted, and then was finally able to examine my arms more closely. I sighed sharply.

It was pretty bad. Both the front and the back of my forearms were covered in long, deep cuts. Fresh wounds crisscrossed old scars. Most of them looked as if they really should get stitches. A couple even looked to be in the beginning stages of infection. Great. Just great. Just what the hell had I been doing?

The last crystal clear memory I had was leaving Quatre's. I had a cocktail on the shuttle back to L2 in the hopes of easing my hangover, but that one cocktail had turned into half a dozen. By the time I'd gotten to my colony, I'd been thoroughly smashed. I had stopped off at a liquor store on the way to my apartment, and it all pretty much went downhill from there.

There were vague memories of drinking, cutting, and more drinking. I think I'd ordered liquor in when I'd run out. I took stock of my surroundings a bit more carefully. The sheets were bloodstained. You'd think there'd been a murder in here or something. And it wasn't just my arms. My thighs ached as well. Sure enough, they were covered in long deep gashes as well. I was only wearing boxer shorts and a tank top, so I could clearly see all the damage. My stomach flip-flopped, and I knew it wasn't just from my hangover. It was shocking to see so much done in such a short span of time. Empty beer bottles and vodka bottles were strewn about the room. The digital clock read 7:23. But was it morning or evening?

Moving very carefully, so as not to disturb all my cuts too roughly, I made my way to the window and peered behind the heavy room-darkening privacy shade. Aah. Evening. Now I just had to figure out exactly what day it was.

Suddenly I became aware of an intense need to use the bathroom. It was probably what had woken me up. The nausea rising up through me in waves also told me that getting to the bathroom would be a good idea. I gingerly made my way to the bathroom, every movement of my mutilated limbs agony, my head pounding. I vomited in the toilet, but my stomach was all but empty, so I ended up dry-heaving for about five minutes. I couldn't believe how sick I felt. After I finished that and emptied my bladder, I peered at myself in the mirror, and I flinched at what I saw reflected there. If Hilde thought I looked unhealthy before, she should have seen me then. I was downright ghastly. I'd lost even more weight. I looked practically skeletal. There were flecks of blood dried on my face. My hair hung about my shoulders in clumps, half out of its braid. It needed to be washed badly. My eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark circles under them. They almost looked bruised. I turned away, unable to stomach the image any longer.

I quickly washed the dried blood off my hands and face, but ignored the rest of my body. Maybe I would shower later. Maybe. I supposed those cuts needed to be cleaned out sooner or later. I couldn't make myself really care.

In a daze I wandered out to the living room. I was a little sickened to see the drops and smears of blood scattered everywhere. Apparently in my drunken state I hadn't exactly been careful about bleeding all over the place. Just like my bedroom, there were empty bottles scattered about, adding to the general mess. Christ, I'd gone on quite the little bender, hadn't I? They weren't all from the past week, over-indulging in alcohol had been something I'd been doing more and more often over the past couple of months, but a lot of them were.

I went over to the phone. The display gave the date as Saturday, and it was eleven days since I had left Quatre's. Hooray for me, I knew what day it was. It also indicated that I had almost two dozen messages. Hilde, Quatre, and maybe a few of the others, trying to check up on me no doubt. They had the number, but I had meticulously rerouted it so that it couldn't be traced. I was sure no one would be able to find me.

In the kitchen I found a pot half-full of rice in the sink. It was dried into a rock-hard mass. I wondered when the last time I ate was. Judging from the state of the rice in the pot, it had been at least a couple of days since I'd last cooked. I supposed I should be hungry, but I didn't feel like eating. I just felt hollow inside. Instead, I just mechanically went through the motions of putting some coffee on.

While the coffee was perking, I went in search of a liquor bottle that wasn't empty. I knew perfectly well that the reason I'd gone on such a bender was to avoid thinking about what had happened at Quatre's, and I saw no reason to start thinking about it now. I just wanted to feel numb again. My hands were trembling as I poked through the cupboards and then turned my attention to sorting through the bottles strewn about the living room. I winced as each movement sent needles of pain stabbing through me from all the cuts. Despite my best efforts, my search didn't turn up a single drop of alcohol. I was disappointed, but not terribly surprised. Why would I have sobered up like this if there had still been anything left to drink in the apartment? I would have to call the liquor store and arrange another delivery. I certainly wasn't in any shape to go out. I did, however, come across a couple of blood-encrusted razor blades, which I took back to the kitchen with me.

As I sat sipping black coffee from a Scooby Doo mug, I stared down at the blades, which I had laid on the table in front of me. My limbs were a mess, I would even go so far as to say they were mutilated, and I had done it to myself with those blades. The thought filled me with shame and self-loathing. God, I was a freak. What kind of a person does this to themselves? I looked at my wrists. None of the cuts there were too deep. It seemed that even drunk I had subconsciously avoided accidentally opening a vein. Pity. I flinched at the thought, but could not deny its truth. It would be better if I had not woken up, if in my drunken slashings I had laid open a vein and spilled my blood until I passed out for the last time.

Setting down the mug I picked up one of the blades and wiped as much of the dried blood off of it as I could onto my shirt. I held up my left wrist and gazed at it for a moment, then I brought the blade up and rested it against the pale skin. Why not? The words whispered quietly in my mind. I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. Why not just go ahead and do it? I could not think of a single good reason why I shouldn't just sink that blade into the vein right now. I traced the blade against my skin, following the path necessary to lay open the vein, but not pressing very hard, just enough to break the skin. Small red droplets of blood formed along the line. Sure, some of my friends would be upset, but they'd get over it, and they'd be better off without me anyway. My chest tightened even more, and I could feel tears prickling at my eyes. I traced over the line again, pushing a bit harder, cutting through a few more layers of skin. My hand was trembling. A small trickle of blood started to run down my arm, dripping onto the table. There was no reason for me to keep living. This was not a life, keeping yourself constantly inebriated so that you wouldn't have to think, to feel. And even in the numbness of being drunk, I was still in enough pain to lead me to slice up my arms and legs worse than I ever had before. I shivered. Suddenly I felt so cold. I felt a tear run down my cheek. That was it then. There wasn't really any reason not to. And there were more than enough reasons to go ahead. One deep slash and it would all go away. The pain, the loneliness, the misery, the shame… it would all just go away. Still trembling, I poised my hand over the cut, ready to slice down with enough force to reach the vein.

And was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

I was so startled I dropped the blade. I never have visitors. The only reason anyone would have for coming to my door was for a delivery, but I wasn't expecting anything. The doorbell rang again, followed by a voice calling out.

"Duo? Are you in there? Please open the door!" It was Hilde! I jumped to my feet, panic gripping my heart. How the hell had she found me? I should just pretend I wasn't home. I certainly couldn't let her in here. The place was a mess. I was a mess.

"Duo! You have exactly two minutes to open this door, or else I'm going to break it down." Heero? Heero was here, too? I couldn't believe it. But I had to do something before they came in here, I couldn't let them see all these cuts. The confrontation would be bad, but I would get rid of them as quickly as I could, and then I'd finish what I'd started. Why couldn't they have shown up an hour from now, when it was all over? Why'd they have to come now? Damn! My arm was bleeding. I had to cover it, and the rest of the damage, and fast. I grabbed a dish towel and wrapped it around my arm. Moving as quickly as I could, I hurried to the bedroom and threw on the cleanest clothes I could find. It was all I could do to keep from screaming as I drew the cloth over the cuts on my arms and legs, but at least they were covered. My left sleeve looked a little funny with the dishtowel still wrapped around my arm underneath it, but hopefully they wouldn't notice. I had no idea how to explain the blood splattered here and there all over the place, but I didn't have time to think about that right now. Hopefully I'd be able to make them leave without letting them in. If not, then maybe they just wouldn't notice. Yeah, right.

I hurried back out, figuring the two minutes were probably nearly up. I paused in front of the door, taking several deep breaths, but it was no use. I couldn't quell my panic. My heart a heavy lump in my chest, I opened the door to face them.

I found not just Hilde and Heero waiting on the other side, but Sally as well. They all paled when they saw me, even Heero. Like I said before, I looked ghastly. Man, Hilde looked like she was about to cry. I swallowed back the lump in my throat.

"How did you find me?" I asked quietly. I nearly flinched at how hollow my own voice sounded. They continued to stare at me for a moment, until finally Hilde answered, her own voice sounding hollow and strained.

"Heero tracked down your phone number. It took awhile since you'd obviously taken a lot of care to make it untraceable, but he persisted until he found this place. Um… Quatre wanted to come with us, but Trowa and I convinced him that too many people would make you feel… trapped. Sally lives right here on this satellite and I want you to see a doctor anyway, so who better than one who cares about you?"

I was startled to say the least. I knew without a doubt that it would indeed have taken a lot of time and effort to crack the block on the phone number. That Heero had bothered to do so was what surprised me. I stared at him, the shock plain on my face, and to my amazement he looked away, looking mildly embarrassed. What the…?

"Look Duo, can we come in? I'd rather not have this conversation in the hall," Hilde said, her voice nearly cracking. I tore my eyes away from Heero to meet hers, but looked away again quickly. I could not bear the pain I saw there, pain that I was causing.

"Well, I wasn't really expecting company, and the place is a mess, and I don't really feel like talking…" My rambling was cut off as Heero pushed past me to walk into the apartment. I guess that settled that. With a defeated sigh I waved the girls in as well and then shut the door behind them. They stood awkwardly just inside the living room. It seemed they didn't know how to start. I sighed again and went into the kitchen, retrieving my cup of coffee. My hands were trembling again and I wanted something warm to hang onto and to keep them busy. The others followed me mutely. Hilde wrinkled her nose when she spotted the mess in the sink. With a start I noticed that the razor blade and fresh drops of blood were in plain sight on the table. As nonchalantly as possible I stepped over to block them from view.

It was Hilde who finally broke the awkward silence, speaking rapidly and obviously very nervous. "Duo, we're very worried about you. We think… we think you're sick and that you should see a doctor. Sally could examine you if you like, or we could take you to the hospital. You've lost so much weight, Duo, you… you really don't look well. And well your behaviour at Quatre's… we think you should talk to someone about that as well. You seem… depressed or something. We're your friends and we're here for you if you need to talk. We care about you, and we're just really concerned. You… you just haven't been yourself…."

The whole time she was speaking I stared down into the swirling black depths of my coffee cup, which I was gripping fiercely in both hands. I could feel the rage building inside me with her every word, but that last statement was the last straw. My head snapped up to look at the three of them, and I could see that they were all surprised at how angry I was.

"Haven't been myself? HAVEN'T BEEN MYSELF?!?! And just how would any of you know how I act when I act like "myself"? You don't know me! None of you know me! All you know is the joker's mask that I put on for you, to help get us all through the war. Well there's a PERSON underneath that mask, not that any of you bothered to find that out, not even when I was practically screaming for your attention!" To my horror tears were starting to roll down my cheeks. Christ, how many times was I going to cry in front of them? "Maybe this IS the real me, unhappy, miserable, lonely, anti-social, take your pick. Maybe you're just finally seeing what's underneath the mask, and you don't like it. Well you know what? I'VE BEEN HERE ALL ALONG!!!" With that I threw the coffee mug against the wall, shattering it.

They all jumped at the sound, even the ever-implacable Heero. They all stared at me mutely, shocked at my outburst. To tell the truth I was shocked as well. But I was angry, damnit. Every word was true. This was the real me, always had been, for as long as I could remember. Where did they come off saying they were my friends now, that they cared about me? My whole body was shaking, and I wrapped my arms around myself, even as I flinched from the needles of pain shooting from the cuts.

"Damn. That was my favourite coffee mug." I said softly, and then winced. There I went again. Try to make everything okay with a lame joke. Like anything would ever be okay again. It seemed to break the spell, though. Sally moved away from the others out into the living room, observing the mess of liquor bottles with a critical eye. Heero continued to stare at me like he was trying to think of something to say, but was at a loss for words. I'd never seen him looking so… uncomfortable. Hilde looked to be deep in thought, even as she gazed at me with sad, wounded eyes. I guess she was trying to think of what to say next. With a weary sigh I sank down into one of the kitchen chairs, rubbing my face with my hands. God, I just wanted them to leave. I wanted them out of there so I could just finish….

Just when I thought the awkward silence would stretch on forever, Sally strode back into the kitchen, her face grim. She stopped right in front of me, and I looked up at her with tired eyes.

"Duo, where did you hurt yourself?" she asked quietly. Heero and Hilde looked up sharply. I stiffened, and I swear it felt as if the world had just dropped out from under me. My mind raced, and I opened my mouth to reply but was unable to make a sound for a few moments.

"Wh-what… do you mean?" I finally managed to get out, swallowing the huge lump in my throat. Her face softened, but her voice remained cool and in control, even as I realized with a start that she actually was upset. Over me?

"There's no use denying it, Duo. Hilde told me about the blood she got on her shirt the last time she hugged you, and that made me suspicious. And now I see that there is blood all over the place in here. I did a psych rotation as part of my medical training, so I have heard of self-injury." I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. This could not be happening. It just could not be happening! My startled gaze flicked from Sally to the others. Hilde was staring at me with her mouth hanging open in shock. Heero had bristled and was now scanning the room, perhaps in search of the blood Sally had mentioned. His eyes came to rest on the table and widened slightly. Oh shit. I hadn't even realized it, but when I sat down I had no longer been blocking the razor from view. He'd seen it.

Heero strode forward and picked it up, eyes narrowing as he observed the fresh blood on the blade. Then he turned his gaze on me, and I just wanted to crawl away and die. His eyes were brimming with emotion, anger, hurt, concern, guilt. Guilt? He none-too gently nudged Sally aside and hauled me to my feet. I couldn't help but cry out in pain as his hand fastened around my left wrist. He looked at me, and then pulled up my shirtsleeve. I just stood there numbly, knowing there was no point in resisting. He frowned at the blood-stained dish towel, and then pulled it away, breathing in sharply when he saw not only the gashes from over the past ten days, but also the old scars and the new gash from barely ten minutes ago. He looked up at me again, still gripping my arm, but much more gently, and this time his eyes were brimming with pain. I looked away, tears spilling from my eyes.

"You were going to kill yourself," He said it simply, a statement of fact, not a question. His voice betrayed little of the emotion I had seen in his eyes. Hilde rushed forward to look at my exposed arm, and then turned away, choking back a sob. Sally's mouth was set in a grim line. "Why?" he asked.

It was too much. It was just too much. The hangover still pounding at my brain, the sick feeling in my stomach, the shame and self-loathing and utter misery of a lifetime coming to a head, the decision made only today to finally put an end to this nightmare, the shock and utter embarrassment at being discovered, and a million other things. It was all just too much for my addled brain to handle. I snapped.

I pulled away from him violently, and he wasn't expecting that so he easily lost his hold on my arm. I backed away from all three of them, my whole body shaking with anger, shame, and misery. My eyes flashed daggers at them.

"Why? WHY? Why not?" I spat at them. All three of them flinched at the venom in my voice, but I didn't care. "Give me one good reason why this… this NIGHTMARE should continue! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of all of it!" I was sobbing now, the tears running freely, but I barely noticed. "I'm tired of just going through the motions of being alive, and I'm not even doing a good job of it anymore. I just want it all to be over! The misery, the pain, the loneliness… I just want it all to go away! Why can't it just all go away?" I sank to the floor as the strength in my legs gave out, feeling suddenly faint. "Don't I deserve some peace? I can't be expected to go on living like this forever, can I? It's not living, it's not! I'm already dead anyway. I'm already dead ANYWAY! What difference could it make? I'm already dead…." I was babbling through my sobs, and barely aware that they had gathered around me. Hilde had crouched down and was gently shaking me. I looked up at her through my tears, my face set in an anguished grimace. She was sobbing, too.

"We're going to help you, okay Duo? Everything's going to be okay. God, I'm so sorry. Everything's going to be just fine, just let us help you, okay?" she said, her voice shaking. I felt a sharp jab in my arm and turned just in time to see Sally empty a syringe into my vein. I stiffened.

"It's just a sedative, Duo," she said soothingly, stroking the side of my face as if I was a child. "It's just going to calm you down and make you feel better, okay?" She was talking to me like I was a child, too, but it couldn't hide the pained pitch to her voice. "This is what we're going to do, okay? We're going to go to my clinic. It's not far from here. I'll examine you and look after those cuts, okay? Then we're going to go to L4. There's a hospital there, on the same satellite as Quatre's main estate, and they'll be able to help you there, okay?"

I closed my eyes, taking deep weary breaths. A mental hospital? They wanted to ship me off to a mental hospital. But I was too tired to argue. Was that shot Sally had given me working already? All I could do was nod weakly.

"Okay then. Heero, Hilde, why don't you pack a few things for him?" Sally sounded distinctly relieved that I wasn't going to argue. I opened my eyes and watched the two of them disappear down the hallway, Hilde still crying, but having gotten herself more under control. Heero looked back at me, an odd look on his face. While they were gone, Sally remained crouched by me on the floor, the hand that had been stroking my face now re-assuredly rubbing my back, and she was telling me everything would be okay. Tears were still rolling down my face, but I was no longer sobbing either, just taking labored, hitching breaths. It all felt like some kind of bad dream.

Heero and Hilde returned a few moments later with a packed bag, both looking visibly shaken. I guessed that they'd seen all the blood on my bed. Sally helped me to my feet, gently taking hold of my arm. I let myself be led out of my apartment, watching mutely as Heero locked up behind us. I couldn't have cared less if he'd left the door wide open, I didn't plan on ever going back there. Still holding my arm, Sally led me down the stairs and out to her car. The three of them didn't relax until I was safely buckled into the backseat. Maybe they thought I was going to try to run away or something. But I didn't have the energy. I just laid my head against the cold glass of the window and closed my eyes as the car jerked into movement. They were probably pleased with how agreeable I was being. Little did they know that I had no intention of ending up in some loonie bin.

TBC