Breaking the Habit
By: Rashalla Entalio
Rated R for YAOI and SELF-HARM
Pairings: Heero Yuy/Duo Maxwell and allusions to Trowa Barton/ Quatre Winner
"I don't know why I do it. I don't know exactly when I first started or why I keep doing it. All I know is that I do... that I cut." 1x2 Can Duo survive the deadliest thing yet... can Duo survive himself? This is rated R for yaoi and self-harm issues. Don't like it, then don't read it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of the associated terms, characters or places. This was written for personal use and was not intended as copyright infringement. The within plotline is mine, or if it has been done before (which is very likely) then it is not meant as plagiarism. This story may be archived and downloaded with the author's explicit permission.
I also do not own any part of the song, "Breaking the Habit". Linkin Park wrote and performed this song. To see the full copyright information look on the back of a Meteora CD or contact me through e-mail
Don't steal, don't sue and every one goes home happy!
Warnings: This story includes R-rated material that may not be suitable for young children. The within story is based around the concept of self- harm/self-mutilation (i.e. cutting); it also contains yaoi (i.e. male/male relationships). If either of these things disturbs you, then please do not read this. Any anti-yaoi or anti-cutting comments will be deleted, as that is what this fic is based on. I will not be held responsible at this point for causing someone to squick because of the obsessive warnings I have out on this.
Well, (takes a deep breath) without further adieu, let the show begin... (pulls curtains back as the lights dim)
Chapter One of Breaking the Habit: "You All Assume"
"...You all assume
I'm safe here in my room
Unless I try to start again..."
-- From "Breaking the Habit" by Linkin Park
I don't know why I do it. I don't know when I started or why I keep doing it. All I know is that I do... that I cut.
I don't think about it often, so I don't worry about it most of the time. It... it's just always been like that; it's as much a part of me as my name. Yes, I'm Duo Maxwell: L-2 street-rat turned priest, turned Gundam pilot and terrorist; Duo Maxwell: the guy with the long hair, the guy with purple eyes, the guy that's always smiling and always laughing; Duo Maxwell: the depresses cutter, that's afraid to sleep at night because he's afraid to face his traitorous mind, his worst nightmares.
Before I became a pilot, my cutting wasn't really an issue. Lots of people on L-2 cut. Yeah, sure, Sister Helen had a fit when she found out, but after a while she saw that that's just who I am. So she let me keep cutting, keep smiling.
Even after I became a pilot and met the rest of my friends, my oddities were rarely ever brought up. Everybody had their own problems, why worry about mine? Yeah, I'll admit that Quatre had a right fit when he found out. It took a while before I could make him understand that I can't not cut. It just doesn't work that way; I don't work that way. Trowa and Wufei just shrugged when they found out; it was none of their business what I did to my own body, so why should they care? Even Sally, our obsessive doctor, gave up after a while.
No one ever made a big deal out of it, that is, until the "Perfect Soldier", Heero Yuy found out.
We were at one of our many safe houses. Heero, Wufei and I were sharing a room. I was sitting on my own bed, minding my own business and Heero and Wufei were nowhere to be found. They were probably resting, as we had just gotten back from a damn long mission, which had left Trowa in a coma and Wufei's arm broken.
At first I tried to ignore the itching, the burning, the calling of my blades. My lovely little blades, safe and tucked away in my backpack, were too enticing though. I hadn't cut in a few weeks, which is a long time for me. My last cuts were almost completely healed and in that nasty, itchy stage.
I finally gave in and pulled out my blades, picking out my favorite. Bracing myself, I slowly pushed down gently, pulling the small blade across my delicate skin. I winced as it broke through; kissing it's cool way into my wrist.
The blood welled up and spilled over, and I was already cutting a second time. As the blood flowed away, so did my worries, my tension. By the third cut I was calm and sickeningly sated.
That's when Heero, Mr. I-have-the-worst-timing-in-the-world, decided to walk in.
I couldn't have made a more guilty picture. With a bloodied blade, slit wrists and a shocked, scared expression, I was the epitome of "caught in the act."
The silence was complete, painfully so, like the calm before the storm. Oh, and what a storm he could be- a storm named Heero Yuy.
But that storm never came. Heero looked from the blade to my wrist, and he did the unexpected: he turned and walked out. No angry yelling of "Your stupid baka!" or demands of an explanation. No, the "Perfect Soldier" had to be perfectly emotionless and walk out, calm as can be.
I don't know how long I just sat there, shocked look still painted on my face. It could have been an hour or six, and I wouldn't have known the difference. When I finally got up to put my blades away it was almost midnight. Not that time, night or day made much of a difference to us pilots. All it was was a change in scenery and the only thing it affected was whether or not we had to turn the night vision on in our Gundams.
After I had cleaned my blades, and myself up, I wandered down stairs to the living room/ TV room/ dining room/ kitchen/ office/ hospital/ all-around everything room. Wufei was asleep in an armchair in the corner, and Trowa and Quatre were asleep in their room. Heero, though, was wide-awake, sitting at the breakfast bar. He was typing away at his laptop. He glanced up when he heard me walk in.
Our eyes locked: pleading, confused violet and stern, midnight blue locked in a battle. It was one of the fiercest battles I had ever fought, and I still managed to loose; I looked away first. Heero closed his laptop with a faint click. I could hear him push his chair back as he got up. His sock-clad feet made no sound as he walked towards me. I shied away from his touch but he caught me anyway. He held my arm gently, firmly.
"I... I can explain..." I started to stammer out. His response was a soft "shh." Heero led me back up the stairs and into our shared room and over to his side of the room, his bed. I sat down with Heero next to me. He was whispering soft nonsense, trying to calm my jitteriness (1).
"Shh, Duo, it'll be alright. It's okay, Duo..." His soft baritone was comforting, warm and calm. My knee slowed it's jogging, my hands stopped their nervous fidgeting and my breathing slowed to a more normal pace. Through all of this Heero was there, calm and reassuring, like always.
The warmth of Heero's arms and the emotional exhaustion enticed me into a soft, safe sleep. Before the black of unconsciousness took me, though, I felt Heero lay me down on his bed with his arms around me...
(1) I love this word and think that it describes the feeling perfectly. I would like to give credit to ShinigamiPhoenix who wrote "Jittery" for that word. If you haven't read "Jittery" then I would like to highly recommend it.
Please Review, as that is what I live on. This is my frst GW fic, so please tell me what you think: i.e. should I continue because it's actually good, or should I stop taking up precious space on FF.N? And yes, I know that this is a really short chapter. Don't worry, it's not short because of ideas, it's short because I didn't know if anyone would like it. The next chapter's will be longer, if anyone wants me to continue it.
Thanks in advance for the nice reviews I know you are all going to leave me!