Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Scar Tissue ❯ Questions ( Chapter 19 )

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Part 19

I must have cried myself to sleep, because the next thing I knew there was morning sunlight pouring through the window, and Heero was gone.

I blinked into wakefulness feeling incredibly exhausted and disoriented. At first I wasn't sure what had happened Then it all came rushing back. I sat up quickly, looking around the room, but I was alone. I wondered briefly if the whole encounter had been a dream, or some kind of hallucination, but the ache in my thighs where I had pounded them indicated that it had really happened. I swallowed hard, mortification overtaking me. I was horrified that Heero had seen me acting like that. What must he be thinking of me? Was that why he had left, because he didn't want to see me again?

What the hell had been wrong with me last night anyway? The panic and fear I had felt were still with me, but were nothing compared to last night. I had never been that disconnected before, at least not that I could remember. I rubbed at the ache in my chest. Before, when those feelings had overtaken me while other people were around, I had always managed to maintain some semblance of normal behaviour. Or at least what others believed was normal for me. But I had really lost it last night. I shook my head in disbelief. Had I really asked Heero if I was real??? How could I have done something so insane? And then to have started pounding on my legs like that, right in front of him! I was surprised that he hadn't left in disgust.

I blinked. But he hadn't left. He stopped me from hurting myself, and then he held me while I cried. He held me. He let me sob on his shoulder. I suddenly realized that I was trembling. I wrapped my scarred arms tightly around myself and tried to will the trembling away. My mind swirled with confusing and conflicting emotions. Unwillingly, I thought of how… comforting it had been to be in Heero's arms. Well, maybe comforting wasn't the right word. I had been consumed by utter and abject pain and misery while in his arms. But still… it had also felt… right somehow. What did it mean? Did I want it to mean something? God, what was going on? I rubbed at my temples. This was so confusing. I couldn't deal with this right now. I couldn't deal with anything, so how could I deal with something like this?

Another thought occurred to me. Would Heero tell the others what had happened? They'd think I belonged in a mental hospital for sure if they found out about it. I scared myself so Lord only knew how badly it would upset them. What would they think? I was trembling even more violently. I still couldn't wrap my mind around it, that someone had seen me that out of it, that out of control. And that that someone was Heero. It was bad enough that he knew about it. It would be even worse if the others knew, too. I rubbed furiously at the tears that pricked at my eyes. Damnit, you'd think I'd have cried enough the previous night to last a lifetime! But I couldn't help it. I was consumed by shame. After everything that had happened, I would have found it hard to believe that it could get worse. But it had. Someone had seen me at my most pathetic, my most vulnerable. It was unbearable.

So what did I do now? It was the question I had tried my best to avoid dwelling on yesterday. I pondered the possibilities. The others would take me back to Quatre's. They would want me to keep seeing Dr. Mitchell, or if not her, then some other shrink. They would do their best to act as normal as possible and try not to upset me. But every time they looked at me they would know. They would know terribly personal things about me. That I cut. That my body was covered with self-inflicted scars. That I was suicidal. That I was crazy. I didn't think that I could bear their knowing, their looking at me with poorly concealed pity and confusion. And distaste. I knew that on some level, all of them, even Quatre, had to be disgusted by me, by what I'd done. They'd never admit it, maybe not even to themselves, but how could they not be disgusted? How long could I go on like that, feeling their eyes on me, feeling their knowing like it was something crawling under my skin? I had already had a taste of it, when they'd been here last night. The way that they had looked at me… or not been able to look at me. I shuddered.

But what were the other possibilities? I could… I could run away from them. But run to where? Run to what? Back to L2? Back to the black hole I had been existing in for the past six months? That option was just as unbearable. Run somewhere else? The black hole would follow me, no matter where I went. It seemed that Duo Maxwell could run and hide all he wanted, but he could never escape the darkness. I fought back a sob.

And then there was… finishing what I'd started, and doing it right this time. Pain twisted in my chest. It made the most sense. There was nothing here for me. Nothing but pain, misery, and shame. I pushed back thoughts of Heero that rose unbidden in my mind. But I couldn't push away the pain I'd seen in Hilde's eyes. And as hard as it was for me to swallow, I knew that the others were shaken by what I'd done as well. Fuck. It would hurt them if I were to succeed in killing myself. I pounded my fists against my thighs again, this time in frustration. Fresh pain flared from the bruises I had inflicted last night. It just wasn't fair! I shouldn't even care what the others felt. They'd never been there for me before, during the war, when I had needed them so badly. They had failed me. So why should I care that my death might hurt them, something which still seemed strange in my mind? But I did care. Maybe they had failed me. Maybe they hadn't been the best of friends. But they were still my friends, and I didn't want to hurt them, even if they had hurt me.

So what did that leave me? Nothing, there was nothing else. My choices were to continue living in this pain and misery, made worse now that the others knew, or kill myself and hurt them in the process. I was trapped. Every choice was a bad one. I buried my face in my hands and tried not to scream.

An orderly came in and left a breakfast tray. I eyed the food with distaste. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd eaten, and was vaguely aware that my body was hungry, but I had no desire to eat. The orderly returned a short time later and took away the untouched tray. I lay back and stared at the wall, my mind reeling with despair from the utter hopelessness of my situation.

At exactly nine o'clock, when visiting hours started, the others arrived. My heart lurched when I saw that Heero was with them. Our eyes locked for a moment, but then he looked away, his face unreadable. My heart sank, and my eyes burned with unshed tears. He didn't even want to look at me. He must be disgusted with me, must think of me as horribly weak. I was so ashamed I wanted to crawl away and die. But then I guess there wasn't anything really unusual about that, just that I was feeling it quite acutely at that particular moment.

Quatre approached the bed, a duffel bag in his hands and a cheery smile pasted on his face. "Good morning, Duo. How are you feeling today?" he asked.

It was all I could do not to start sobbing. I was suffocating in a black cloud of unimaginable despair. I clenched my hands in my lap, nails digging into skin. Somehow I managed to smile at him.

"I'm fine," I said, feeling like I might be sick all over the bed, even though my stomach was empty. Quatre just nodded, never losing his smile, but I could tell he didn't believe me. I stared down at my hands, remembering how they'd felt last night. I quickly flexed them, panic flaring for a dizzying, terrifying moment, but everything was okay. I could feel them. When I looked back up, Heero was staring at me with the most peculiar expression on his face. This time it was me who looked away.

"Since you're being released from the hospital today, we brought you some clothes and some other things you might need," Quatre said, laying the duffel back on the bed next to me.

"Great, thanks," I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster, which wasn't a whole lot. Of course the prospect of getting out of the hospital was something to be happy about, but the uncertainty of what was to come after that was more than a little intimidating. "Hey, do you think they'd let me shower before I get dressed? I'm feeling kind of funky," I said, twisting my mouth into a goofy grin.

"I don't see why not, I'll go ask the nurse," Quatre volunteered. He turned and left the room. I saw him squeeze Trowa's hand on the way out. For some reason it made my heart twist, and I was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of loneliness. I glanced at Heero. He was still staring at me, and I couldn't hold that intense gaze, so I quickly looked away.

Sally came to stand beside the bed. "Duo, I want to talk to you about Dr. Mitchell…" she began.

Before I could stop myself, I gripped my head in my hands and shut my eyes tight. "No! I don't want to talk about it!" I snapped. Silence reigned in the room, and I was horrified by how crazy I must look. With great effort I forced my muscles to relax and I lowered my arms. I looked up at Sally. She was looking at me with a mixture of concern, frustration, and sympathy. I hated it. "I… I just don't want to talk about it right now. Just let me get cleaned up and stuff first, okay?" I offered a weak smile. Sally pressed her lips into a thin line. She wasn't happy. But she gave a curt nod.

Quatre returned. "The nurse said it was fine. The doctor won't finish rounds until ten, so you have to wait before you can be released anyway. She said that there were towels and anything else you'd need already in the bathroom."

"Great," I replied. I slid off the bed, feeling self-conscious in the flimsy hospital gown in front of so many people. As my feet hit the floor, a wave of dizziness washed over me and for a terrible moment I thought my legs were going to buckle out from underneath me. Thankfully I managed to stay upright, even if I had swayed alarmingly. Perhaps I should have eaten some of that breakfast.

Sally gripped my arm, her face creased with concern. "Are you okay? Maybe you shouldn't be standing up," she said.

I clenched my jaw at her words. How humiliating. I fought to keep my face from flushing too badly. "I'm fine, just stood up too fast," I assured her with a false smile.

She looked unconvinced. "Okay… but don't lock the bathroom door. We'll need to get in there in a hurry if you faint in the shower or something."

Or something. I suppressed a grimace, instead giving her another vapid smile. I nodded and went into the bathroom as quickly as my still-shaky legs could take me, bringing the duffel bag along. I quickly closed the door, obediently leaving it unlocked, and then leaned against it, grateful to be alone. I fought back the tears that threatened to come forth.

I forced myself to step back from the door and turned to look in the mirror. God. I looked like crap. I was paler than ever, with darkened circles under my eyes. I brought my hand up to gingerly touch my face, and in the mirror I saw the scabs that remained from my most recent cuts on my arm. I quickly turned away from the mirror, suddenly disgusted by my reflection.

I stripped off the hospital gown and my underwear. I attempted to brush out my hair as well as I could, though it was terribly knotted and tangled. I gingerly removed the bandage that covered the stitches on my chest and avoided looking directly at the words underneath. I stepped into the tiny cubicle shower and found a wrapped bar of soap and small bottles of generic shampoo and conditioner. The hot water felt heavenly. For a long time I simply stood there, letting it wash over me, wishing it could wash everything away. I realized that tears were streaming down my face, and I shook myself out of my stupor and started running my hands through my hair, making sure it was wet all the way through.

As I worked the cheap shampoo into a lather in my hair, I thought of when Heero had washed my hair. The ever-present ache in my chest intensified. I tried to push all thoughts of Heero away. Rinsing the shampoo out, my friends' voices echoed in my head. `How are you feeling today?' Quatre had asked. `Are you okay?' Sally had asked. My chest tightened, and I worked the conditioner into my hair furiously. There had been times when I would have given anything to have my friends ask me those questions, and mean it as more than a greeting. Even then I probably wouldn't have been able to tell them the truth, but they still could have asked.

The conditioner rinsed from my hair, I started to scrub away with the soap and a washcloth. I barely registered that I was scrubbing too hard at my scabs, tearing some away, causing fresh blood to run. I merely clenched my teeth at the pain. Those questions. Those damned questions. I hated them. It was impossible not to lie in response, the glib `I'm fine' an automatic response, no matter how I was really feeling. The answer was always accepted without question. How many people really ask that question expecting an honest, detailed answer anyway? But even if I had wanted to answer honestly, and there were a few times when I had tried, the words would not come. Duo Maxwell, speechless. I scrubbed harder. Droplets of vivid red diluted to pink in the water swirling around my feet before being washed down the drain. The pain in my chest was unbearable.

And even if I had been able to make the words come, they would have been unintelligible anyway. The very act of saying them would have reduced me to a sobbing mess.

My legs wouldn't support me. I found myself curled into a ball on the floor of the cubicle, water beating down around me as I was consumed by wracking sobs for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. I buried my face in the washcloth, praying that the others couldn't hear me over the roar of the shower.

Christ! What the hell was wrong with me? I had to pull myself together! Any minute the others would be in here, wanting to know what was taking so long. I scrubbed at my face with the cloth, willing the tears to stop. Finally, they did, and I reached out an unsteady hand to turn off the water. I climbed shakily to my feet and stepped out of the shower. For the first time it really registered what I had done to my arms. Fuck! What would the others think if they saw it? I grabbed some toilet paper and started to wipe up the blood still beading out of the reopened wounds. Thankfully, the damage didn't seem too bad. The bleeding would probably stop on its own pretty quickly. I sighed. God, I was such a fuck-up.

Realizing that I'd been in here for quite awhile already, I hurriedly finished up. I wrung out my hair and wrapped it in a towel. I dried myself off, mindful of getting any drops of blood on the white towel. I opened the duffel bag and pulled out my clothes. They were the same ones I'd worn a couple of days ago, freshly washed. I really needed to get some more clothes if I was going to be hanging around here for the foreseeable future. Which, I guessed with a sinking heart, I probably was. I didn't have anything to re-bandage my chest, so I just threw my shirt on over the bare stitches. The reopened cuts had pretty much stopped bleeding, and any blood that stained my shirt wouldn't be visible on the black fabric anyway.

There was a knock on the door. "Duo, are you okay in there?" Hilde's voice called. I clenched my teeth at the question, but quickly shook it off and pasted a grin on my face. I opened the door.

"I'm fine," I lied. "It just takes awhile to wash all this hair, you know? Hey, do you want to help me dry it?" I was surprised by how cheerful I managed to sound.

She brightened. "Sure," she said. She helped me comb out the damp mess, then she tackled it with the hairdryer that the bathroom was thankfully equipped with. I even managed to chatter incessantly, earning a few chuckles from her in the process. It was unbelievable. Not five minutes ago I had been sobbing uncontrollably, now here I was acting like nothing had happened. It seemed that the mask was always close at hand. Finally, my hair was dry and tamed into a braid. We rejoined the others and waited for the doctor to come and release me.

It was awkward to say the least. Hilde and Quatre tried to draw the others into chitchat, but got little response. I sat on the bed and tried not to appear too anxious. My arms stung. I looked around at the others, wondering if Heero had told them about last night. Somehow, I didn't think so. I looked over at Heero, who was standing silently at the window, staring out. What must he be thinking of me? I looked around at the others again. What must they all be thinking of me? The things that had happened over the past couple of days…. How did they feel about all of it? Part of me was surprised that they were even here after all that had happened. Why did they care? No one had really seemed to before. Why now? I shook my head. I couldn't even really wrap my mind around it, that they were here, that I was here, in a hospital room, waiting to be released after my suicide attempt. The words still twisted my stomach.

Finally, a doctor and nurse arrived to clear me for release. I had never seen him before. That made him, what, the third doctor to see me in this hospital? Not exactly what I would call personal care. But I didn't think I should complain. It could have been a lot worse. They could have said I couldn't leave.

Even having already been told that I would be released, I waited with baited breath while the doctor looked me over. The nurse cleared the room of my friends. She put a fresh bandage over my stitches. The doctor checked my blood pressure and listened to my breathing. They were both very impersonal and efficient, not giving any kind of reaction to my scars, or to the fact that the reason I was in the hospital was because of a suicide attempt. It didn't change the fact that I couldn't look either one of them in the eye, though.

The doctor seemed satisfied and signed my release forms. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was really free to go. I would have to be careful. I might not be so lucky a second time. I shuddered.

I met up with the others in the reception area and signed all the necessary papers. Quatre had to sign some forms, too, since he was footing the bill for the private room. We filed out to the parking lot. I don't think I was ever so happy to be outside, but the sight of Quatre's limo quickly quelled my enthusiasm. The thought of going back to Quatre's house was incredibly depressing. Sitting around, feeling unbearably awkward. The prospect of having `serious discussions', and my appointment with Dr. Mitchell that afternoon, which I'm sure Sally had no intention of letting me miss. Then I had an idea.

"Hey, do you guys want to go shopping?" I asked. They all looked at me like I had ten heads. I actually think I started to blush. Okay, so maybe it was an odd thing to suggest under the circumstances. "Seriously. I'm going to need to pick up some more clothes. I can't keep wearing the same thing everyday. You guys brought my wallet in the duffel back, so I have my cash card. Why not? Who knows, it could be fun." Okay, I'm going to have to watch the nervous rambling.

Hilde shrugged. "Sure. I'm always up for a trip to the mall. And you're right, we could all use some fun and relaxation."

"You think a trip to a shopping mall would be relaxing?" Wufei asked incredulously. I laughed. It was a good feeling. It felt almost like before, when I had played the dutiful clown and no one had suspected otherwise. And I could almost feel the tension level in the air falling. Maybe this could really work.

Quatre chuckled. "Sounds like a good idea, Duo. Shopping would be fun." He instructed the driver to take us to the nearest shopping mall. Sally and Heero both looked quite displeased, but were keeping their mouths shut about it, at least for the time being, so I decided to ignore them.

I sat back in my seat, relieved. I engaged in idle chatter about shopping with Hilde and Quatre on auto-pilot. In all honesty, I was quite proud of myself. Not only had I provided a good distraction for the others from the…situation, but I could also pick up something else that I needed while at the mall. Something much more important than new clothes.

TBC