Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Blood and Roses ❯ Relapses and Betrayal ( Chapter 4 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Ashurii 
Duo cuts himself again while in the hospital. Heero is hurt and confused.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.24.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 259 | Status: Completed
Duo cuts himself again while in the hospital. Heero is hurt and confused.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.24.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 259 | Status: Completed
Title: Blood and Roses 4/?
Author: Ashurii (Jisatsuganbu on LJ.com aka CelestialDragon on FF.net)
E-mail: automatic_girl@orangeday.net
Rating: R ... ?
Series: Gundam Wing
Pairings: 1+2, 3x4, eventual 1x2x1
Warnings: Depressed Duo, cutting, lamenting Heero, angst, SAPPY SAP
Summary: Duo feels he is too far gone to ever come back to happiness, and cuts himself for release. Heero tries, but to no avail, to bring him back. How will Heero deal when Duo cuts himself deeper than he ever has before?
Notes for this Chapter: Erm. Relapse-ation? That's about it. Don't think I thought Duo could recover that easily! Ano ... Poor Duo ...
[~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~]
"Erm ... Do you have any 6's?"
Duo shook his head good-naturedly. "Nope. Go Fish."
Duo and Heero had been sitting in Duo's hospital room for what seemed like hours playing card games - but Duo figured that it just felt so long because he hadn't left the room all day.
The doctors insisted that even though Duo was physically well, he still needed some kind of psychiatric help. "You can't just recover from all of that pent-up psychological trauma in one day," they had said to Heero when the man had asked if Duo could be released. They wouldn't even release him into Heero's custody!
So, Duo had to participate in group therapy sessions every day, talk to a psychiatrist every other day, and write down everything he had felt in a journal the psychiatrist, an odd pinkish-red haired woman named Suriah, had provided. The journal was nice enough, flat and binded tight, with an odd naturish-green cover. Duo wrote in it like he was told, hoping every word he added would aid him in obtaining his ticket out of this place. He couldn't understand how he was supposed to do all of this "emotional recooperating" they were always talking about, when the entire being of the place depressed him. The pristine whiteness, the smell of disinfectant, the unhappiness of the other patients - it was downright horrible.
Duo's sessions with the group and his psychiatrist were plodding along nicely, and Heero was glad when the doctors told him his braided lover was making progress. Little did Heero know (or the doctors, for that matter), that Duo was just telling everyone what he knew they wanted to hear. He just wanted out of the hospital - and he'd say anything to prod them to make that decision. Duo felt horrible, felt like he was lying to Heero and ruining their new-found trust, but some odd part of him he had forcibly pushed to the back of his mind kept telling him he didn't care. It was an unnerving feeling, but not so unnerving that he cared enough to bring it to the surface and tell the Japanese boy.
Heero was smiling softly at him; Duo hadn't realized he was zoned out and thinking. "Koibito, what are you thinking about?"
"Hm ... Nothing important." Duo smiled forcibly. "Sorry - just having an odd little moment." A look of concern crossed Heero's face and Duo's grin grew wider. "It's alright, I'm fine, but what do you say to putting the cards away for awhile and cuddling with me?" Heero's face lit up at that and he nodded. Duo smiled forcibly again, glad he had abated that disaster. Duo moved over on the bed and rolled onto his left side. Heero climbed up behind him and wrapped his arms tight around him, nuzzling his face into the crook of Duo's neck and sighing contentdely. Duo smiled just slightly - he really DID care about Heero, really and truly - but something was wrong. He didn't really understand what it was, but he could feel it at the back of his mind like an itch he couldn't scratch. He managed to quell his thoghts long enough to fall into a fitful sleep.
[~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~]
Duo awoke in the middle of the night with the urge to start screaming. Or crying. He figured screaming would alert Heero and the nurses, and he knew he didn't want to do that. So he opted for crying. He cried silently in Heero's arms for several minutes, until he decided that the pressures of Heero's arms were disturbing him even more. He lifted the arms from around him, his motions enciting an unhappy groan from the sleeping man, and crept off, still sobbing, into the bathroom.
As soon as he was sure the door was locked behind him and the fan turned on to muffle any sounds, he collapsed to the floor and wailed. He hadn't cried in so long and these feelings felt so built-up and pushed back that he couldn't hold it all in anymore. He was so confuzed - one side of his mind was angry and upset, hating being in this wretched place and hating Heero even more, blaming him for all of these problems he was now having, and even the ones he was having before he cut himself; and the other side was upset at the first, aching to get well and to be with Heero the way Heero wanted him, not understanding why Duo refused to tell the doctors what he was really feeling. Unknowingly, Duo scratched angrily at his wrists as he sobbed, and the angry side of his mind won out, telling him that if he could just make himself bleed again, that everything would get better - that all his choices and problems would be easier to sort out.
Just then, the braided boy had an epiphany - Heero's pocket knife. The Asian boy always carried it with him in case of emergency, had somehow managed to keep the nurses from taking it, and it was slipped into the back pocket of his jeans which were currently lying draped on the back of the extra chair near the door. With help of the doorknob as support, Duo managed to lift himself off the floor, wiping the tears from his face and fighting to keep his sobs silent, and opened the door to step back in the room. Luckily, Heero was still asleep, brows knotted in thought, and Duo let out a pent-up breath to comfort himself. He crept silently to the other end of the room, slipped Heero's pocket knife out of his jeans, and crept back into the bathroom.
Checking again to make sure that the door was locked behind him and the fan on, he sat himself on the edge of the toilet, and peered at the inside of his arms. Duo looked back at the knife, sitting on the edge of the counter next to him, then back to his arms. A flashback of weeks before suddenly hit him, of blood and pain and blissful release, and he smiled. There was no choice to make; he had already made it. He stripped the fresh pieces of gauze off of his scars and threw them angrily to the ground. His tears still slipped down his maliciously-grinning face, and he opened the pocket knife slowly, twisting the blade in the dim bathroom light and watching it glint.
He closed his eyes, lowered the knife, and began to press. Hard. He cried out, then bit his lip angrily, knowing if he cried out too hard he would be heard over the fan. He traced the scarred lines, and his eyes widened in surprise as the blood gushed out faster than he had remembered. Duo chuckled softly at the deep crimson colour, then paled as his chuckle evolved into a low laugh, and threw all reason to the wind as he began to laugh louder and louder. At this point he could have cared less if his own mother had walked in on him, he would still be laughing like a maniac. He stopped abruptly, feeling dizzy, and tried in vain to focus as the room spun.
The braided man heard the door handle rattle. Someone was calling his name. Two voices ... "Who cares, right? All that matters is this blade ..." Duo thought mirthlessly, staring at the blade now laying on the floor. Funny, he didn't remember dropping it. Now someone was pounding against the door - only one voice now. Duo tried hard to collect his thoughts. Where had the other voice gone? His eyes started to close and he slipped from his pearch on the toilet seat to hit the ground. Everything was suddenly bathed in light, and someone was sobbing, calling his name.
"I'm so sorry ..." Duo whispered, one last sob wracking his body before he fell into blackness.
[~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~]
He ero sat, motionless, staring at Duo's unmoving form in the bed, tears rolling down his cheeks. He could care less about them - he could have sworn he wasn't feeling. If anything, he felt numb.
Duo had been out for several days. They had to pump several packets of blood back into his body for his heart and other organs to begin to work at their normal speed again. God, that night had been horrible. He had screamed for the nurse when he realized the door was locked, and she yelled for Duo to open the door when she got there. When he didn't, she tore out of the room at top-speed to fetch the skeleton key so they could get in. Heero was sobbing - somewhere in the back of his mind he knew what Duo was doing in there, but his concious mind refused to believe it untill the Nurse came back with the key and opened the door.
Heero sighed, slow and painful, as he closed his heavy, bloodshot eyes. Suriah had raised hell when it was revealed that the knife was Heero's. First, to the nurses, wondering why they hadn't taken it away, and then to Heero, enraged that he would even bring a sharp object near a recovering self-mutilation victim. Heero had been so upset, in a mix of sorrow and anger and betrayal, that he couldn't help snapping back at her. He told her none of this would have happened if she had just been doing her god damn job - he thought Duo was getting all better. Maybe the problem wasn't that Heero was harboring a weapon, maybe it was this hospital and all their fucking staff. Suriah had paled, blinking and gaping at him. He told her to get the hell out before he slapped her. She did.
He'd never threatened anyone with bodily harm since the war, and for some odd reason he felt no remorse for doing so this time - he almost felt empowered, and odd sort of serenity falling over him as he unwittingly reverted back to his "wartime mode."
Heero reached out a trembling hand and swiped his index finger lovingly across Duo's cheek. "Why?" He whispered, passively watching Duo breathe. "Why? I thought -" Heero choked on a sob he was trying to quell back into his chest. "-I thought ... I thought you loved me as much as I love you!" Heero gave up trying to maintain his stoic attitude, and fell, crumpled, over Duo's resting form, sobbing for all his worth.
Author: Ashurii (Jisatsuganbu on LJ.com aka CelestialDragon on FF.net)
E-mail: automatic_girl@orangeday.net
Rating: R ... ?
Series: Gundam Wing
Pairings: 1+2, 3x4, eventual 1x2x1
Warnings: Depressed Duo, cutting, lamenting Heero, angst, SAPPY SAP
Summary: Duo feels he is too far gone to ever come back to happiness, and cuts himself for release. Heero tries, but to no avail, to bring him back. How will Heero deal when Duo cuts himself deeper than he ever has before?
Notes for this Chapter: Erm. Relapse-ation? That's about it. Don't think I thought Duo could recover that easily! Ano ... Poor Duo ...
[~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~]
"Erm ... Do you have any 6's?"
Duo shook his head good-naturedly. "Nope. Go Fish."
Duo and Heero had been sitting in Duo's hospital room for what seemed like hours playing card games - but Duo figured that it just felt so long because he hadn't left the room all day.
The doctors insisted that even though Duo was physically well, he still needed some kind of psychiatric help. "You can't just recover from all of that pent-up psychological trauma in one day," they had said to Heero when the man had asked if Duo could be released. They wouldn't even release him into Heero's custody!
So, Duo had to participate in group therapy sessions every day, talk to a psychiatrist every other day, and write down everything he had felt in a journal the psychiatrist, an odd pinkish-red haired woman named Suriah, had provided. The journal was nice enough, flat and binded tight, with an odd naturish-green cover. Duo wrote in it like he was told, hoping every word he added would aid him in obtaining his ticket out of this place. He couldn't understand how he was supposed to do all of this "emotional recooperating" they were always talking about, when the entire being of the place depressed him. The pristine whiteness, the smell of disinfectant, the unhappiness of the other patients - it was downright horrible.
Duo's sessions with the group and his psychiatrist were plodding along nicely, and Heero was glad when the doctors told him his braided lover was making progress. Little did Heero know (or the doctors, for that matter), that Duo was just telling everyone what he knew they wanted to hear. He just wanted out of the hospital - and he'd say anything to prod them to make that decision. Duo felt horrible, felt like he was lying to Heero and ruining their new-found trust, but some odd part of him he had forcibly pushed to the back of his mind kept telling him he didn't care. It was an unnerving feeling, but not so unnerving that he cared enough to bring it to the surface and tell the Japanese boy.
Heero was smiling softly at him; Duo hadn't realized he was zoned out and thinking. "Koibito, what are you thinking about?"
"Hm ... Nothing important." Duo smiled forcibly. "Sorry - just having an odd little moment." A look of concern crossed Heero's face and Duo's grin grew wider. "It's alright, I'm fine, but what do you say to putting the cards away for awhile and cuddling with me?" Heero's face lit up at that and he nodded. Duo smiled forcibly again, glad he had abated that disaster. Duo moved over on the bed and rolled onto his left side. Heero climbed up behind him and wrapped his arms tight around him, nuzzling his face into the crook of Duo's neck and sighing contentdely. Duo smiled just slightly - he really DID care about Heero, really and truly - but something was wrong. He didn't really understand what it was, but he could feel it at the back of his mind like an itch he couldn't scratch. He managed to quell his thoghts long enough to fall into a fitful sleep.
[~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~]
Duo awoke in the middle of the night with the urge to start screaming. Or crying. He figured screaming would alert Heero and the nurses, and he knew he didn't want to do that. So he opted for crying. He cried silently in Heero's arms for several minutes, until he decided that the pressures of Heero's arms were disturbing him even more. He lifted the arms from around him, his motions enciting an unhappy groan from the sleeping man, and crept off, still sobbing, into the bathroom.
As soon as he was sure the door was locked behind him and the fan turned on to muffle any sounds, he collapsed to the floor and wailed. He hadn't cried in so long and these feelings felt so built-up and pushed back that he couldn't hold it all in anymore. He was so confuzed - one side of his mind was angry and upset, hating being in this wretched place and hating Heero even more, blaming him for all of these problems he was now having, and even the ones he was having before he cut himself; and the other side was upset at the first, aching to get well and to be with Heero the way Heero wanted him, not understanding why Duo refused to tell the doctors what he was really feeling. Unknowingly, Duo scratched angrily at his wrists as he sobbed, and the angry side of his mind won out, telling him that if he could just make himself bleed again, that everything would get better - that all his choices and problems would be easier to sort out.
Just then, the braided boy had an epiphany - Heero's pocket knife. The Asian boy always carried it with him in case of emergency, had somehow managed to keep the nurses from taking it, and it was slipped into the back pocket of his jeans which were currently lying draped on the back of the extra chair near the door. With help of the doorknob as support, Duo managed to lift himself off the floor, wiping the tears from his face and fighting to keep his sobs silent, and opened the door to step back in the room. Luckily, Heero was still asleep, brows knotted in thought, and Duo let out a pent-up breath to comfort himself. He crept silently to the other end of the room, slipped Heero's pocket knife out of his jeans, and crept back into the bathroom.
Checking again to make sure that the door was locked behind him and the fan on, he sat himself on the edge of the toilet, and peered at the inside of his arms. Duo looked back at the knife, sitting on the edge of the counter next to him, then back to his arms. A flashback of weeks before suddenly hit him, of blood and pain and blissful release, and he smiled. There was no choice to make; he had already made it. He stripped the fresh pieces of gauze off of his scars and threw them angrily to the ground. His tears still slipped down his maliciously-grinning face, and he opened the pocket knife slowly, twisting the blade in the dim bathroom light and watching it glint.
He closed his eyes, lowered the knife, and began to press. Hard. He cried out, then bit his lip angrily, knowing if he cried out too hard he would be heard over the fan. He traced the scarred lines, and his eyes widened in surprise as the blood gushed out faster than he had remembered. Duo chuckled softly at the deep crimson colour, then paled as his chuckle evolved into a low laugh, and threw all reason to the wind as he began to laugh louder and louder. At this point he could have cared less if his own mother had walked in on him, he would still be laughing like a maniac. He stopped abruptly, feeling dizzy, and tried in vain to focus as the room spun.
The braided man heard the door handle rattle. Someone was calling his name. Two voices ... "Who cares, right? All that matters is this blade ..." Duo thought mirthlessly, staring at the blade now laying on the floor. Funny, he didn't remember dropping it. Now someone was pounding against the door - only one voice now. Duo tried hard to collect his thoughts. Where had the other voice gone? His eyes started to close and he slipped from his pearch on the toilet seat to hit the ground. Everything was suddenly bathed in light, and someone was sobbing, calling his name.
"I'm so sorry ..." Duo whispered, one last sob wracking his body before he fell into blackness.
[~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~]
He ero sat, motionless, staring at Duo's unmoving form in the bed, tears rolling down his cheeks. He could care less about them - he could have sworn he wasn't feeling. If anything, he felt numb.
Duo had been out for several days. They had to pump several packets of blood back into his body for his heart and other organs to begin to work at their normal speed again. God, that night had been horrible. He had screamed for the nurse when he realized the door was locked, and she yelled for Duo to open the door when she got there. When he didn't, she tore out of the room at top-speed to fetch the skeleton key so they could get in. Heero was sobbing - somewhere in the back of his mind he knew what Duo was doing in there, but his concious mind refused to believe it untill the Nurse came back with the key and opened the door.
Heero sighed, slow and painful, as he closed his heavy, bloodshot eyes. Suriah had raised hell when it was revealed that the knife was Heero's. First, to the nurses, wondering why they hadn't taken it away, and then to Heero, enraged that he would even bring a sharp object near a recovering self-mutilation victim. Heero had been so upset, in a mix of sorrow and anger and betrayal, that he couldn't help snapping back at her. He told her none of this would have happened if she had just been doing her god damn job - he thought Duo was getting all better. Maybe the problem wasn't that Heero was harboring a weapon, maybe it was this hospital and all their fucking staff. Suriah had paled, blinking and gaping at him. He told her to get the hell out before he slapped her. She did.
He'd never threatened anyone with bodily harm since the war, and for some odd reason he felt no remorse for doing so this time - he almost felt empowered, and odd sort of serenity falling over him as he unwittingly reverted back to his "wartime mode."
Heero reached out a trembling hand and swiped his index finger lovingly across Duo's cheek. "Why?" He whispered, passively watching Duo breathe. "Why? I thought -" Heero choked on a sob he was trying to quell back into his chest. "-I thought ... I thought you loved me as much as I love you!" Heero gave up trying to maintain his stoic attitude, and fell, crumpled, over Duo's resting form, sobbing for all his worth.