Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Scar Tissue ❯ The Clinic ( Chapter 9 )

* * * * * * *

Part 9

By the time the car pulled to a stop in front of Sally's small free clinic, I was definitely feeling the effects of the drug she'd given me. I felt almost pleasantly numb, except for when I moved, sending needles of pain radiating from all my cuts, and I had to concentrate to focus my eyes. The clinic was closed, since it was late in the evening by then, but Sally had the keys. We filed inside mutely, Sally once again gently taking hold of my arm to lead me. I don't know if it was a gesture of support, or if she was worried I would try to run away.

"You two wait out here," Sally instructed as we passed through a small waiting area. Hilde flopped into a plastic chair soundlessly, looking decidedly drained, but for a moment Heero looked like he was going to argue. He appeared to decide against it, though, and sat in a chair opposite from Hilde. Sally led me down the hallway and through an open doorway, flicking on the light to reveal a fair sized room with an examination table and a counter with a sink. She closed the door behind us and gestured for me to sit on the table. I swayed a little as I walked over to it, a little dizzy from the drug

"How are you feeling now, Duo?" Sally asked me.

"Peachy," I replied, attempting deadpan, but it came out a little fuzzy. I blinked. "I don't know what that shit was that you gave me, Sally, but I sure like it." Damn, that was a smart thing to say. Now she'd think I was a major druggie or something. Sure enough, I saw her back straighten a little.

"And do you often take drugs, Duo?" she asked, managing to sound almost casual. Boy, she was a crafty one, thinking she'd get me to admit to stuff in my incapacitated state….

"Oh, sometimes," I found myself answering. Well, shit. I scowled, but it was half-hearted. After all, what difference could it make now? Sally seemed to decide to move on, though I was sure that she stored that tidbit away to bring up at another time.

She turned to the small sink and started to wash her hands. "Could you please take off any clothes that are covering up cuts? I need to clean and bandage them." Her voice was almost steady. Almost. Grimacing, I reached up and started to unbutton my shirt, suddenly not feeling quite so mellow anymore. But there was no way out of this now. I shrugged out of the shirt, wincing from the pain caused by moving my arms and by the cloth rubbing over the mutilated skin. God, my arms looked bad, especially under the bright fluorescent lights. For a moment, I considered whether or not I should show her my thighs. I figured that at this point, there really was no point in keeping it from her. It's not as if I could imagine ever feeling more ashamed and humiliated than I did right then. So I stripped off my pants as well, leaving me only in my bloodstained boxers.

I turned to look at Sally. She still had her back to me, busying herself at the sink. She pulled on a pair of latex gloves after she dried her hands. With an audible sigh, she turned and raised her eyes to look at me. I saw the shock on her face as she saw the extent of the scars and cuts, though she tried hard to hide it. She turned white as a sheet, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she drew in a sharp breath. Though it hurt to do so, I drew my arms up and wrapped them around my chest, turning away from her. I was wrong before. It was possible to feel more ashamed and humiliated. Right then I felt worse than I could ever imagine. I had never felt so exposed and naked in my entire life. Tears burned at my eyelids.

Sally came up behind me, gently placing her hands on my trembling shoulders. "Oh, Duo…," she murmured. And then, defying all expectations yet again, I felt even worse. She was in pain, and it was all my fault. I should have killed myself months ago and spared them all of this.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. God, I felt like shit. How could this be happening?

"No," she replied firmly. "You have nothing to be sorry about. It's all of us who should be sorry. You've obviously been in pain for a long time, and we should have noticed." She was just trying to make me feel better. I knew who's fault this all was. Mine. I just wanted to crawl away and die.

Sally returned to the sink to fill a washbasin with water, and I sat on the exam table. I couldn't take my eyes off my arms and thighs. The harsh lighting was merciless. Every line stood out starkly against my pale skin, a roadmap of pain and misery. Faded marks that had all but disappeared, newer lines laid out in shades of pink and red, some raised and ridged, and finally the freshest cuts, angry dark red slashes crusted with dried blood. I could barely wrap my mind around it. The shame I felt was indescribable. Finally my eyes turned to the freshest cut of all, my interrupted suicide attempt of less than an hour ago. When would I have the opportunity to finish it? Should I finish it? I found that my earlier resolve had crumpled once again into the endless game of "should I or shouldn't I?" But how could I live, knowing that soon all my friends would know what I had been doing to myself all this time? Knowing that they all knew how weak and disgusting I was? God, I was so confused.

I was interrupted from my reverie by Sally returning with the filled basin, which she set down on the table next to me. She pulled over a chair and a tray of first aid supplies and sat down in front of me. Taking hold of my left arm, she dipped a cloth in the basin and began to gently clean out the cuts, wiping away the dried blood. As careful as she was being, I couldn't help but flinch every time the cloth came into contact with my skin.

Without taking her eyes off her work, Sally began to speak. "It's still earlier on L4, so when we're done here, Heero will give Quatre a call, and he'll contact the hospital about setting up an appointment for you, hopefully for tomorrow, okay?"

I looked up from watching her clean my arm, confused. "An appointment? You're not locking me up?"

She looked up at me, startled. "No, Duo, of course not. It is a psychiatric hospital, but they have an extensive outpatient program. The appointment is an evaluation of sorts, for you and the doctor to decide together what the best course of action is. We would never just throw you into a hospital, Duo. I know we've failed you so far, but we are your friends." She resumed her work, a slight quaver to her hands. She finished cleaning my arm, and began to apply an antibiotic cream, along with steri-strips to hold the deeper gashes closed. She finished by wrapping the arm in gauze. Then the whole process started over with my right arm.

I felt so guilty. I'd gone and assumed the worst from them. They were only trying to help. I didn't deserve friends like them. It was too bad that they didn't understand that. I was a horrible, despicable person, and all I was doing was causing them pain with my shit. After all, it wasn't really their fault that they hadn't seen behind my mask. I chose to wear it, and they just accepted it at face value. Who could blame them? Maybe, even without knowing the truth, they had subconsciously sensed what a disgusting loser I was, and had kept their distance accordingly. Now they were finding out the truth. I hadn't seen disgust from Sally, Hilde, and Heero yet, but surely they were simply in shock, having just found out. Once the information had sunk in, they'd change their tune. Maybe even change their minds about throwing me in the loonie bin.

I observed Sally as she worked quickly but gently, moving on now to my left thigh. These crazy thoughts were getting me nowhere. I longed for the mental cotton of the drug Sally had given me earlier, which had been all too fleeting. Instead, I concentrated on the needles of pain that were sprinkling my skin under Sally's ministrations. Yes, feel the pain, don't think about anything else.

Finally, she was done. As I looked down at my gauze-wrapped limbs, I realized that I looked like half a mummy.

Sally quickly cleaned up the supplies she'd been using, and dumped out the basin in the sink. "I'll go see if I can find you some clean boxers, since those have blood on them." She left the room, and returned only a moment later. "Here we go," she said as she handed me a pair of white boxers. "I knew that there were usually some in with the scrubs. I'll leave you alone so you can get dressed. I'll have Heero call Quatre now, and you can join us out in the waiting room as soon as you're done. We won't tell him about all of… this quite yet. That's something that should be done in person." She paused, and then smiled at me reassuringly. I'm not sure if it was me she was trying to reassure, or herself. Probably both. "Everything's going to be okay, Duo." With that she left the room again, shutting the door behind her.

I sighed deeply. I didn't think anything would ever be okay. Moving carefully, I changed my boxers and then pulled my other clothes back on. After being cleaned and poked and prodded, all my cuts were absolutely radiating pain. Once again, I tried to focus my mind on it, clearing away all other unpleasant thoughts. But as I finished buttoning my shirt, my eyes fell on the medical supply cabinet, and some unpleasant thoughts began to seep in. I went closer to peer in at the contents through the glass door. There was a box of scalpels, caps over the blades to protect their sharpness. Heero and Hilde had probably packed my toiletry bag, but I couldn't remember if there were any razor blades left in it. Without even realizing it, I was opening the cabinet door, and had slipped one of the scalpels into my pocket. Just in case I needed it. Whether simply to cut more, or to finish what I'd started earlier tonight, I wasn't sure. But I felt better just having it.

Not two seconds after I closed the cabinet, the door opened and Heero stood there, looking uncomfortable. He peered at me, frowning.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked.

I rubbed my hands wearily over my face, suddenly feeling incredibly tired and drained, both physically and emotionally. I grimaced from the pain that movement caused in my arms, and Heero's frown deepened.

"I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be," I replied, my voice sounding hollow.

From the clinic it was only another short drive to the shuttle bay, and before I knew it, we were on our way to L4. When I had woken up only a couple of hours ago, I had been in complete despair, and had been about to take my life. But now three of my friends knew my worst secret, the rest were about to find out, and I was on my way to have an "evaluation" with some psychiatrist. I was so confused and blown away by the events of the past couple of hours that it hurt to think about it. So I sat on the shuttle, hugging my arms around myself so that I could feel the needles of pain, with the reassuring presence of the scalpel in my pocket digging slightly into my hip, and staring out the window at the vastness of space, and my uncertain future.

TBC