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A Stagnation of Love (rewrite)	By : shinigamiinochi Category: Gundam Wing/AC > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2207 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing AC or the characters from it. I am making no money from this story

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A Stagnation of Love

Chapter 7

Part 1
　

December 5th, 2007
　

Nine days. Nine, complete, solid days. That's how long it's been since I came out at school. That's how long it's been since Heero turned his back on his reputation and his friends for my sake. We've been friends for a week and two days, and every day since then, it's only felt stranger and stranger. I keep waiting for that moment. You know the one, the inevitable moment when something really great turns to shit and there's nothing that you can do to stop it. But that moment hasn't happened. Heero hasn't changed his mind or decided that I'm not the sort of person that he wants to be friends with. How that's possible, I don't know, because hell if I know what he and Quatre saw in me that made me someone that they would want to hang out with.

I keep waiting for him to wake up and realize what an idiot he was, but as much as he claims that he's a coward, he's pretty determined about all this. His parents haven't exactly figured out that I'm not the kind of person that their son should be hanging out with. I've met with them a few times now, and each time they've been very nice and pleasant to me, like they can't see the clothes that I'm wearing, my braid, or how I have to literally bite my tongue sometimes to keep from swearing in front of them.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, like I always do. I won't say that there weren't any bad points after I made friends with Heero, because that would be an outright lie. Things were plenty hard for the both of us. It was a toss up between which of us had a harder time when we came to school the next day. I got the worst of it, but I was also used to being bullied and Heero wasn't. Before I had ruined everything for him, he had been untouchable and it kind of rankles me that I'm more upset about that than he is. The treatment that I had gotten the day before had been nothing compared to the next day, when the rumor had finally completed its rounds and had had time to sink into everyone's brains. I didn't just have Relena and Zechs's group to worry about anymore, everyone hated me and was none too shy in showing and telling me that.

The verbal abuse was pretty bad. There were probably a lot of my classmates that weren't brave enough to start anything physical with me, but cussing me out, telling me that I should kill myself, how disgusting I was, or just plain lobbing crude, homophobic slurs at me when I passed by them was perfectly acceptable.

Even several of my teachers became very openly hostile towards me. They looked at me in open disgust, muttered 'fag' under their breaths, refused to call on me, and many couldn't make eye contact with me. The mildest reaction that I got from them was also the most infuriating to me; after my home economics class, my teacher pulled me aside and tried to lecture me on my 'life choices' and how selfish I was being, letting myself be led astray without even thinking of my family's feelings. I shot her a dirty look and pushed past her without a word. I let it all wash over me. As long as none of my teachers gave me poor grades because of my sexuality or tried to get me into trouble, it wasn't too different from them thinking that I was a delinquent anyway.

But among the insults and heated glares, there were those that were truly pissed off to find out that there was a homosexual walking around among them. I got tripped, spit on, my hair pulled on, punched three times (once in the side, once in the gut, and the third time someone managed a lucky shot to the side of my face), and my personal favorite was when someone threw a rock at me. Thankfully, that one didn't connect due to years of dodging things getting lobbed at me.

Through speed and caution alone, I got out more than a dozen fights on that first day. It's funny. I felt like my entire life, dealing with my father and the bullying that I've endured these last seven years was some kind of training for this shit. Maybe, if I had been new to it, it might have broken me, but it was just a more severe form of what I've been living with since I was nine years old. I knew all the tricks to get out of a fight, the signs of when something was going to fall on my head, which areas of the school to stay far away from. And when I did get cornered those few times when a punch managed to land, I had already learned from past experiences the wisdom of laying low and keeping my mouth shut.

I won't say that it wasn't painful, being treated like that, because it is, but anytime I found myself wanting to cry, I just remembered what it had felt like being raped by my father that first time. Nothing in the entire world, except for watching Quatre fall in front of that train, can compare to that pain. Everything else is laughable, a mosquito bite compared to a gaping wound. Having Heero's friendship was like a salve to all of it. I just had to tell myself that, as bad as things were, it had gained me something back and that's enough to make me feel better every single time.

So while I was engaged in warfare all day, I think that Heero had it worse than me. Word of what he had done had gotten around, too, although there was a great deal of rumor and speculation about what had actually happened and why. Stories ranged from the actual truth to outlandish tales of chase scenes that more belonged in action films than real life, stories of some big fist fight between Zechs and Heero (which was ridiculous since neither of them had any bruises), and even one that involved Relena dumping him because she couldn't stand the thought of her boyfriend being fantasized about by a queer.

Heero was painted as all sorts of things by our classmates, a fag sympathizer being one of the milder ones. I could only imagine the kinds of cold shoulders that he had gotten that morning, although the dirty looks that had been thrown at him had probably been more perplexed than heated. Hysterically, the general consensus seemed to be that his actions had come about, not because he had been uncomfortable with what they had been planning to do to me, but because of some huge fight that he had had with his girlfriend. The thought that he might actually be friendly with a homosexual and not be ok with beating the shit out of one seemed so impossible to them that they would rather believe that the whole mess was because he was being pissy with Relena.

So instead of our school ragging on him for supporting me, he was getting harassed for the most ridiculous things, like rumors of him cheating with ten other girls or making Relena do weird things or just being a general asshole to his girlfriend. Not to mention, of course, the stigma of siding with someone like me even for a second and turning his back on his friends. Hearing people talk about him like that, like he had betrayed his family or something and was guilty of being some kind of sleazy womanizer was surreal. Not quite as surreal as the truth, though, that he was gay.

As the day wore on, I just felt guiltier and guiltier about everything. I was relieved that no one was even speculating that he and I were friends, let alone his sexuality, but the things that people were saying about him and the dirty looks that all the girls in our classes were throwing at him tore at me. He was better than all of them and he didn't deserve those looks. Relena wouldn't even look at him. She was the image of an ice queen as she breezed past him in class and sat down at her desk, like he was a total stranger.

Heero looked uncomfortable with everything, unsure of what to do and how to act around the group of kids that he had been hanging with since the beginning of the year. When I was sure that no one was looking at either of us, not wanting to make things even worse than I already had, I flashed him what I hoped was a comforting look. To my relief, he smiled at me. It was like he was saying that he was ok, that everything was going to work out. It made me feel better.

Lunch was chaotic. I spent most of the morning dreading it, since it and gym would be my only periods where I would be truly vulnerable. If I had packed a lunch, I would have eagerly found someplace safe to eat, like the studio, but I hadn't. My father had been in a pissy mood that morning and I had rushed out of the house, unwilling to deal with him. I had some money in my pocket to buy food, but it was a large risk. I contemplated just skipping the meal and hiding in the library. It wasn't like I was starving. I skipped meals all the time and the food that Mrs. Yuy had given me the night before had not only been delicious, but filling. I can't say exactly why I didn't, beyond the knowledge that I couldn't skip lunch every day for the rest of my time here, but I'm actually glad that I went to the cafeteria that day.

It was easier than ever finding a place to sit. If I had had the perverse urge, I could have sat down at one of the more crowded tables and watched them scatter like flies. Instead, after getting a simple and cheap meal of chicken nuggets, tater tots, and chocolate milk, which was a much longer process than usual with people constantly cutting in front of me, and trying to either trip me or spit in my food as I passed them, I navigated to my usual, empty table in the back corner of the cafeteria. I ate like a zebra at a watering hole, constantly glancing around me to see if anyone was going to start something. I was sure that they would eventually and wanted to be prepared for it.

So I noticed pretty damned quickly when Heero walked out of the kitchen area with his own plate of food and instead of going to another empty table or to his friends' or mingling with others that might tolerate his presence, he made a beeline for me. I watched him with a perplexed, wide eyed expression that only got wider the closer he got and I realized that he really was walking towards me and not just in the same direction as me. The entire time, all I could think was 'what the hell is he doing' and I thought that my heart my actually stop when he was bold enough to sit down across the table from me, putting down his tray full of lasagna and green beans like it was some great burden. He had opted for some kind of juice instead of milk.

"Hi," he greeted me with a heavily worn voice, like that of a soldier that had seen too much combat, but he managed a brief smile at me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded incredulously at his actions.

I looked around us and saw with a sinking heart that at all of the tables near us, conversation had turned to silence. Everywhere I looked, people were staring at us, some with curiosity, some with shock, and others with the same bewilderment that I felt.

"Eating lunch with a friend," Heero answered like it was completely obvious.

He poked at his lasagna with a plastic spork, spearing some of the thick, unappealing looking mass. There was more cheese than sauce or noodles, and it was so thick and stringy that it would need to be hacked at with a knife while the sauce was thin and watery. There was a very good reason why I had gotten chicken nuggets instead of the 'alternative'.

"Ugh, don't eat that," I looked at it with disgust, completely forgetting what I as Heero valiantly tried to pull the forkful that he had away from the main body, but the food was far too stubborn for that.

"Oh?" he asked with an amused smirk, looking more refreshed somehow as he continuously stabbed at his 'meal', trying to dislodge a piece from the cheesy monstrosity, "This is any worse than what you have?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," I made another face, remembering the first time I had dared to try the school's version of lasagna, "At least I can recognize them as nuggets and not food attempting to become a sentient life form."

He burst out in this wry, little laugh, startling a few of the people watching us intently, and snagged one of the nuggets off of my tray, taking an experimental bite out of it.

"Ok, fine, you're right, it's not terrible," he conceded playfully and looked down at his own food with reproach, "Think they'll give me a refund?"

I snorted and smacked his hand away when he tried to steal one of my tater tots.

"You buy it, you eat it," I teased him back, popping a tot into my mouth.

It took me a moment to realize that his good natured joking around had soothed my fear. How did he manage to do that, just turn around my moods and make me feel better when I had every reason to be anxious? Even Quatre hadn't been able to do it as completely as this person.

"I told you not to hang around me while we're at school," I reminded him in a low voice so that no one would hear what we were talking about, not that it really mattered, I was sure that the people watching us talk so familiarly with each other were going to make up their own stories, "I can understand you not wanting to hang out with Relena and the rest anymore, but if you hang around me, you're going to get hurt. Everyone just thinks that you and Relena are fighting right now, but if you act friendly with me, they're going to think-"

"I don't care about all that," he interrupted me carelessly, taking a bite of his lasagna and grimacing at the taste, "It's like I told you yesterday, they were never my friends and I don't want to be that kind of person anymore. We're friends, aren't we? So why can't I have lunch with you? Why can't I hang out with you like we're just two, normal, teenagers? Why do I have to hide that I enjoy your company?"

A bitter pain ripped at my heart. I wanted to believe in what he was saying, that we were just two normal people, having lunch together. But I knew that that wasn't true.

"You know why," I murmured.

"Because you don't want me to get bullied," his blue eyes went hard and he looked annoyed for some reason.

"You told me yesterday that you did what you did because you didn't want me to get hurt," I said softly, "Well, I don't want you to get hurt, either. I'm used to this, you aren't. You don't understand what it's like..."

"I can look out after myself, Duo," Heero assured me, "Relena is already pissed at me for helping you, people are already gossiping about why I did it, what difference does it make if I hang out with you in public or not? Talking with you on the beach and pretending to loathe you here, I hated doing that. Yesterday, I promised that I was going to stop hiding. How can I do that if I'm pretending that the only real friend that I have doesn't exist? I'm not ashamed to be friends with you and I won't let them try to make me feel that way."

I thought of Trowa then. It was inevitable. These were the sorts of things that I had always wished that he would say, both about me and about Quatre. Before now... before becoming friends with Heero, I hadn't even realized the true depths of which that my ex-boyfriend had hurt me. Every time I had seen him during school and he had ignored me, and that time when he had left me to almost be discovered in that damned equipment room, I had told myself that it was only logical. Trowa had done what anyone would have done, to protect themselves, and that even if it hurt, I couldn't blame him for it.

It had taken finding someone who was willing to risk all of that, his reputation and his welfare, for me to realize that I did blame Trowa. I always had. Heero was a coward and had lived that way all this time, hiding who he really was, but his deception didn't hold a candle to the lengths that Trowa had gone to. He hadn't even dared to be seen with me. Heero had said that he wasn't ashamed to be my friend. Maybe... maybe Trowa's reluctance to even let people know that we were friends was more than just his cowardice? What if he had been ashamed of me? Ashamed to be seen with the school loser? That hurt a lot worse than him just being scared.

Had he loathed me that much? Had he resented me so much so that he wouldn't have risked so much of an inch of himself? I guess I could understand. After all, what had I been to him? Had he ever even considered me to be a friend? I almost jumped out of my seat when I felt Heero wrap his hand around mine. I looked down and saw that I had been clenching my tray so tightly that I had somehow managed to crack the thick plastic. I let go of it like it had burned me, but the agony in my chest and the ache behind my eyes didn't lessen.

"Duo, what's wrong?" Heero asked and his voice was so soft, so warm, and so sincere that it was almost enough to have me spilling my guts about everything.

"I... I had this... well, I guess you could have called him a friend. We hung out once in awhile," I confessed as much as I was comfortable with, "He would call me up and we would go out to a movie or something. But when we were at school, he would always act like I didn't exist. We would never make eye contact and for all that anyone else knew, we barely knew each other. He didn't want his reputation to get hurt by me. He didn't want to get bullied and I respected that. I understood it and I thought that I was ok with it. Now I'm not so sure," I glanced up into Heero's stare, feeling myself blush at his worry and scrutiny, "I can understand him wanting to hide our friendship, because I know what it feels like to be bullied, to be harassed and tormented by people every day of my life and I don't want that for anyone.

"But even though I understand, it doesn't mean that I was ok with it. It hurt and I still resent him a lot for how he treated me. I don't want you to know what this feels like, I don't want you to get bullied, but... I just want you to know that I'm glad that you aren't ashamed of me... that you don't want to pretend we aren't friends. I don't think that I can have another friendship like that again. It was too painful. I know that it makes me an asshole, being relieved that you're willing to be hurt, and I'm a shitty friend for it, but if you did, I'm not so sure that I could keep from resenting you, too."

And I would do everything in my power to make sure that that never happened. There was no way that I was going to let my mistakes with Trowa ruin my friendship with Heero. Trowa had been a poor substitute for Quatre, and even calling him that made me feel guilty because he had been anything but. But Heero... Heero was so much more than that. He wasn't just a crush to me anymore, or even just the boy that I loved, we were friends now and even though not even a day had passed since we had become that to each other, I found myself valuing that friendship very deeply. Being Heero's friend made me happy, maybe even more than I've ever been my whole life. I didn't want to grow to loathe him like I had Trowa.

"He was never your friend," Heero said with such conviction, and such barely concealed anger that he startled me for a moment, "A person like that isn't even worth your time. You deserve a better a friend than that."

I stared at him in shock. How could he say a thing like that? Didn't he realize the sort of person I was? Didn't he know that there was nothing good about me that deserved anything? I almost instinctually dodged those words, knowing what I was, all those things that my father told me that I was, all the ways that I had failed myself and my friend, but I didn't. His words wormed their way inside of me and left me feeling confused. I wasn't sure how I felt. I didn't believe his sentiment, but he obviously did. His faith in me warmed me at the same time that it made my insides feel odd, like they were made of liquid.

I grunted noncommittally and pretended to focus on my meal and not the slow, content smile that grew on his face as he returned to his own. I even pretended not to notice when he finally succeeded in swiping one of my tater tots with a look of triumph. Whether it was from knowing that he had won our little argument or his food theft, I'll never know.
*****
After being seen with me at lunch, the rumors flying around about Heero only got worse, much worse. Probably the most tame ones were speculation that Heero was only hanging out with me to hurt Relena. The worst one that I heard was that he was using me to hurt his girlfriend... but not my friendship. Was it really so hard for them to believe that the two of us might actually be friends that it was more plausible that a boy that had been dating an attractive, popular girl was fucking the local queer just to mess with her? Of course, he actually was gay, but while I did hear a few people wondering about that, the typical assumption was far from that. To everyone, Heero was still just a gay lover, but not gay himself. I guess that sounds like splitting hairs, but I was relieved that it wasn't the latter. I didn't want Heero to get outed because of me.

It was surreal when Heero stuck to me like glue during gym class together. I know that I use that word a lot, but it's the only one I have to describe how it felt to suddenly have a friend again, and one that cared about watching my back. I hadn't had anyone to really talk to about anything since Quatre had died. Getting used to it was absolutely nothing like riding a bike. I was rusty at it and didn't really know how to act around Heero. I let him take the lead on almost all of our conversations, but I didn't want him to realize how shy I was, so I tried not to let him do all the talking. I watched his back just as much as he watched mine, keeping a constant eye on Zechs and his cronies.

The more Relena saw the two of us together, the more furious she looked, but her brother was another story. While Relena's friends looked pissed on her behalf, her brother just wore this cold, amused sneer when he saw Heero and I talking. It chilled me a lot more than Relena's anger. I knew that he was probably planning something, but the what, and who it was going to involve, eluded me. Not being alone anymore would offer me some protection, but not much. Zechs thought that he was untouchable and it was only a matter of time before he struck.

"What are you doing after school today?" Heero asked me as he volleyed a ball over the net at me.

I took my eye off of Zechs for a moment to volley it back. I wasn't very good at volleyball, but I was sure that Heero was with the almost bored way he volleyed my hits at him. Still, when he volleyed back, it was always slow and soft so I could hit it. I would have gotten pissed, thinking that he was pitying me and my lack of athletic abilities, but I didn't get that feeling from him. There was this sedate, relaxing feeling between the two of us as we played, things like points and winning didn't matter, we were just talking.

It also made it easier for us to dodge every time Zechs 'accidentally' spiked a ball at us from his own net a few feet away. Eventually, our teacher was going to make us pair off against the other teams and that sedate volleying was going to turn into something bloodier. I was just glad that we had gotten to pick our teammate this time and had tried not to be so surprised when Heero had immediately cornered me. I was distracted by Heero's question and almost missed hitting the ball, tapping it lightly with my wrist. Heero had to run up to the net to spike it back to me, giving me a good look at the dark mark on the right side of his jaw. It had been catching my attention that entire period, but I had been too scared to mention it.

"Zechs do that to you?" I finally asked as I hit the ball back.

This time it was Heero's turn to be startled and he missed the volley. He watched the ball roll to the wall behind us with a frustrated huff. Self-consciously, he rubbed at the black bruise.

"No," he told me, "Someone else did, a senior."

I didn't need him to tell me why he had gotten punched by an upperclassman. He had gone that entire morning without a single mark, then, some time after he had had lunch with me, he had gotten hit. Someone had obviously taken exception to who he had made friends with.

"Heero, I am so sorry," I tried to apologize solemnly, but my new friend cut me off.

"Don't," he demanded and turned to fetch the ball, "I told you, I'm fine and I can handle myself. This is mild compared to some of the things that you've gotten, so don't you dare apologize for something that is not your fault. Now," he served the ball back to me, "you didn't answer my question."

I felt a bit frustrated that he wouldn't even accept that all of this was my fault, but I didn't really feel like dragging us back into that topic.

"I dunno," I confessed, "I have a couple hours before I have to go to work. I usually hang out at the library for a bit before I go home to change my clothes."

"Why am I not surprised," he teased me good-naturedly.

I blushed as I remembered one of our early conversations on the beach and how I had admitted that I liked to read.

"Do you mind if I tag along?" he asked me and his tone suddenly got shy, like he was worried that I would tell him no.

I shrugged.

"If you want to. It's not like I'm doing anything exciting, it's just a nice, quiet place that I can read and not be bothered. But yeah, you can tag along," I thought that I would combust into flame when his expression immediately perked up at that, like I had granted him something special.

Something caught his eye and that happy look immediately vanished.

"Incoming," he warned me.

I instinctively ducked, missing the volleyball that whizzed over me by barely a second. I wasn't prepared for the sheer force that the thing had been thrown at me, though, and when the thing bounced off the wall, throttling towards me again, all I could do was jump back, out of it's way. My sneaker slid on the smooth floor of the gym and I landed so hard on my ass that a burst of pain shot through my lower back. I hissed with it and looked over at where Zechs had been volleying with Mueller, knowing full well where that careless shot had come from.

"Nice reflexes, Maxwell!" Zechs jeered at me.

"What a fucking klutz!" Mueller chimed in and the both of them laughed hysterically at me.

I climbed to my feet, my face beet red from embarrassment. I'm not even sure why I was so embarrassed just from falling on my ass, other than Heero had seen me do it. The boy in question was glaring full force at Zechs, his hands curled into tight fists. I could see the desire in his eyes to march over there and strike his former 'friend'. It was stupid and I was glad that he restrained himself, but it also warmed me to know that he cared that much about me.

"Are you ok?" he asked, ducking under the net to come to my side.

"Yeah, I'm not hurt," I told him, brushing the dirt off the back of my shorts, "Well, just my pride."

"Asshole," he hissed under his breath, glaring at Zechs again, "He could have knocked you out if that had hit you in the head."

"Not like he hasn't done it before," I shrugged.

Heero stared at me incredulously.

"What?" he asked in shock.

"It's not a big deal," I tried to assure him, "But he's sent me to the nurse's office a few times thanks to this period. One time we were doing softball practices. You know, batting and catching, and he hit a ball at me when my back was turned. He nailed me right in the back of my head. The ball was one of those cheap, thin plastic ones, not a real softball, so he didn't concuss me or anything, but I blacked out for a couple of hours."

"That's criminal," he said furiously, "He's a fucking animal. How can he get away with doing things like that?!"

I shrugged again.

"Like you said, he's an animal. Even the teachers are scared of him. Besides, he belongs to the richest family in town and I'm... well, no one is going to get him in trouble."

The bell rang and I sighed in relief. Relief that the school day was finally over. Relief that I could finally leave that school and not have to deal with pieces of shit like Zechs Darlian until tomorrow. Relief that Heero was still, more or less, unscathed. I felt a bit nostalgic as Heero and I went to the shower room, the both of us watching over the other's shower like how Quatre and I used to do.

"Still planning on coming over on Sunday?" Heero asked me as we exited the school, someone bumping into me so hard that I almost lost my book bag before we finally left the building.

"Definitely," I said and couldn't help smiling a little at the thought of getting to return to Heero's home and eating a meal with him and his parents, "Your folks really don't mind me eating over?"

"They wouldn't have offered if they did," he snorted, "They're just relieved that I've made a friend here."

I felt a deep relief as we walked onto the street that would lead us to the library and left school property. I'm not stupid enough to think that all of my problems would stay behind, but at least I wasn't forced to be around my classmates anymore.

"Should I bring something, like a dessert?" I asked nervously, unsure of what would be expected of me, "I can go home after work and whip something up-"

"You don't need to do that," he assured me, "My mother is going to make a ton of food. You don't need to do anything, just come and relax and get fed."

I turned to retort something cheeky at him when I saw Zechs approaching behind us from the entrance of the small side street.

"Fuck, run!" I yelled at Heero, already in motion.

But it was too late. As I turned towards the opposite end of the street, Mueller and Alex were already there, blocking it. The street was narrow and there was just no way in hell we were going to be able get past Zechs or his friends. I had let my guard down. Even knowing the stakes, even with what had almost happened the day before fresh in my head, I had allowed Heero's presence at my side to placate me. I had forgotten about the threat and now it was going to kick me in the ass. Heero moved closer to me, like he thought that he could protect me from them.

I don't know, maybe he did. He had no clue how strong and brutal Zechs was, even after hanging out with him all those months, he didn't know what I did and actually thought that he could make a difference. I knew that we were screwed and was just hoping that one of us could make it out of this without being hurt too badly, Heero thought that he could stand up to his ex-friend. That was the difference between us. He was thinking of ways that he could overpower all three of them and I was just glad that none of them had a bat with them this time. This was the second time that they had managed to ambush me on that street. I was going to have to find another route to the library.

"Well, well, well," Zechs jeered, looking highly amused by our united front, "What do we have here? Maxwell and Yuy, like two peas in a fucking pod," his cold leer at me made my heart feel like stone, "You get sick of my sister already, Yuy, and decide to go for some rough trade? Tell me, does he suck cock as well as everyone says and that's why you've completely lost your damned mind?"

Heero's hands curled into tight, white knuckled fists and he glared heatedly at Zechs, looking furious at his insult. While I was flattered and kind of amazed by his protectiveness, if he goaded Zechs or did something equally stupid, he was going to make things worse.

"Just get the hell out of here, Darlian," he snarled, "Why I did what I did, and why I've chosen to hang out with Duo is none of your damned business. I don't care what nasty, little rumors you and your thugs cook up. I'm not hanging out with you anymore and you can't intimidate me back into your fold-"

Zechs's outrageous laughter cut through Heero's words like a gunshot.

"Is that what you think?" he crowed, "That I'm going to scare you into dropping this little fairy, that I'm going to try to convince you to turn on your new 'friend'? That would be amusing, but given how quickly you turned on us, it wouldn't be much of a challenge. Quite frankly, I'm amazed you haven't tried crawling back already. What makes you think that I want you back? I don't really give a shit who you hang out with, who you fuck, or why you're suddenly on team pro fag. You're just a pussy, Yuy. A yellow bellied pussy who would rather whimper in a corner than do what's needed to be done. If it weren't for the fact that you're still my sister's boyfriend, I would have beaten you into a bloody pulp long before now."

My new friend gritted his teeth and eyed the bigger bully. I could see the hate and the anger in his eyes and knew that, the longer that Zechs talked, the more likely Heero was going to do something stupid like rush him. I glanced back and saw that Alex and Mueller had closed in on us. I felt this surge of protectiveness all of a sudden and just like that, I knew how Heero was feeling, or at least some of what he was feeling. I didn't want him to get hurt and wondered what I could do to keep that from happening. I was no match for any of them one on one, let alone all three at a time, but maybe if I pissed them off enough, they would forget about Heero and focus on me.

"If that's what you want," Heero snarled, "Then you have my permission to go for it. Beat the crap out of me and then leave us in peace."

Zechs laughed again, like that was the funniest joke he had ever heard.

"Like I just said," he sneered, his light blue eyes like ice, "It isn't you that I want."

Alex and Mueller lunged forward before either of us had a chance to wonder what Zechs had meant by that. Mueller hooked Heero's arms with his, restraining him as his friend watched for any signs that Heero might be able to get away from him. I knew that Heero wouldn't be able to. He was stronger than I was, but Mueller and Zechs had been on the wrestling team together before Zechs had gotten kicked out for not stopping when their coach had told him to. As far as I knew, Mueller was still on the team and while he wasn't as tall as Zechs was, Heero and I were no match for him. Even knowing that, I desperately tried to run to help him, imagining the two assholes unloading on him while he was being held down like that.

I didn't get very far. With lightning fast reflexes, Zechs grabbed my braid and dragged me backwards by it, making me gasp out in pain. A muscled arm wrapped around my neck, only barely not cutting off my air supply.

"Where do you think you're going, huh? I didn't give you permission to help him," Zechs hissed in my ear, the feeling of his hot breath washing over my skin repulsing me, "You know, I was really sad that you skipped out on our little 'date' yesterday. I was really going to mash you into little bits today, but then I got to thinking. That really wasn't your fault, now was it? I shouldn't blame you for Yuy's interference. He's the one that needs to be taught a lesson. But how could I accomplish that? What could I possibly do to him to teach him not to fuck with me? Then I started thinking, well, if he's so unconcerned about his welfare that he would do something so monumentally stupid, maybe he'll be more concerned with yours?"

"Let go of me, goddamit!" Heero thrashed in Mueller's grip, trying to shake him loose as it seemed to dawn on him what it was that Zechs was going to do.

Suddenly, I felt Zechs's teeth bite down on the same ear that he had been whispering in, so deep that I thought he was going to bite my damned ear off. I cried out at the pain and feeling of blood dripping down my neck, shocked by what he had done, the brutal nature of it. Zechs stopped just short of closing his teeth entirely and let me go. The wet feeling of his tongue swiping up the trail of blood was almost enough for me to vomit.

"You like that?" I could almost hear the leer in his voice.

"You're disgusting," I hissed at him, despite my good sense to keep my mouth shut.

Thankfully, instead of getting pissed, he laughed cruelly again. I have no idea why he did something so twisted, although it was probably just to get a rise out of Heero. Some part of me wanted accuse Zechs of hypocrisy, of biting me if he really did think that all fags like me had tainted blood, but I knew that he wasn't like his sister. Relena generally hated queers. Zechs just liked to use that to torment me. He pushed me away from him and punched his fist into the right side of my face. I was unprepared for the sudden, violent blow and fell to the ground. I could hear Heero screaming something, my name, I think, but I was too focused on trying to wrap my head around the pain in my eye and face and regain my sight to focus on him as well.

Without missing a beat, Zechs grabbed me by my hair and slammed my head against the brick wall of the alley, making white lights explode in my already deteriorating vision. The rough, sharp material cut open my skin and blood dripped down my cheek and neck, but I wasn't that worried about it. I knew a superficial wound when I felt it, but I was sure to everyone else, it looked horrible.

"Stop it! Goddamnit, just stop it, you motherfucking pieces of shit!" Heero was shrieking, "Duo!"

I wiped the blood out of my eye and looked over at him. My vision was blurry from pain and the multiple blows to my head. My right eye was already starting to swell shut. Heero was straining against Mueller, his face red from rage and he looked like he might consider chewing his own arms off just to get to me, like a wild animal in a trap. There was fear in his eyes, fear for me. Some part of me warmed that he was that concerned for me, but mostly, I didn't feel anger that Zechs was beating me up.

I didn't feel frightened about how far he would take it. I didn't even feel angry that he was using me to hurt Heero. As I felt my head throb and saw how frantic my friend was, mostly, I felt this serene peace. I know that sounds weird, but as Zechs beat me to a pulp, I felt my fears drain out of me. He wasn't going to hurt Heero, I knew, just me, and I could accept that. I could survive. As long as Heero walked out of this without a scrape, I could deal with everything else just fine.

"Shut up, Heero," I snapped at him as he continued to fight against his captors, "You're making things worse. Just stay quiet."

"That's right," Zechs said with a superior chuckle, "Listen to your little queer friend, Yuy and why don't you shut the fuck up? At least he's smart enough to know there isn't shit he can do about this," he accentuated his point by ramming his knee into my gut, "If you keep pissing me off, I'll break both of his fucking legs."

Heero's eyes locked onto my own as the bully continued beating on me, and for a little while, I couldn't look away from him. He stopped screaming and fighting and just went limp in Mueller's hold. My friend looked so pained and helpless, guilty at his inability to save me. I could understand that feeling, but I didn't have the ability to comfort him. It was all I could do to stay conscious.

The beating itself was brutal. It was like getting hit by my father when he was too drunk to really understand what he was doing. Each blow was powerful and vicious, like getting hit with a boulder. Or rather, after this went on for a solid twenty minutes, I felt like a tenderized piece of meat. The only consolation that I had was the Zechs wasn't trying to kill me or even hospitalize me. He didn't break my legs or arms like he had threatened Heero that he would. He didn't smash my head into anything again, either, but limited his blows to everywhere else.

He kicked at my back, punched my chest and sides repeatedly, pulled my hair, and stomped on my limbs. He nearly broke my nose with one hit and soon, all I could taste was blood. After twenty minutes of repeated punches and kicks, I felt like my guts were going to start oozing out of my mouth. I didn't try to get up, I just let him drag me around like a rag doll until he viciously kicked me in the ribs one last time and dropped me to the ground to stay there. I lied there quite happily, feeling the cool pavement under my bruised cheek. If Heero hadn't been there, I might have even blacked out.

"Oh my god," Zechs's laugh cut through me like a knife, his voice panting a little from all the effort he had just exerted, "Are you really crying?"

I frowned, my furrowing brow making me wince. My cheeks were wet, but that was from blood, not tears. It took me a bit too long to realize that he was talking to Heero, not me.

"You're such a pussy," his boot nudged me and I bit my tongue to keep from groaning as he hit one of my many bruises, "Even this faggot is more of a man than you are. Look at you, crying like a bitch. I haven't even fucking touched you! What the hell does my sister see in a weak, sniveling shit like you? She should be grateful that you left."

"I'm going to kill you," I heard Heero say in this frightening, icy cold voice that could easily rival Zechs's.

I opened my one good eye and glanced at where they were. Mueller had let go of Heero, who was glaring at Zechs, but they hadn't come to blows yet, as much as my friend looked like he wanted to. The older boy wasn't the least bit threatened by Heero's threat. He laughed and smacked Heero's shoulder in a mockingly friendly gesture.

"See ya around, Yuy," was all that the bully said between guffaws of laughter, his cronies following as he walked down the street.

Heero flinched but, miracle of miracles, he didn't go after him. Even with my blurry vision, I could see that that was all he wanted to do. I couldn't imagine the amount of self control he was displaying. He didn't move at all until all three of them were out of sight, then as soon as they were, like a switch had been thrown, he ran to me and fell down on his knees to hard that he had to have hurt himself.

"Oh God, Duo..." he said in this pained, horrible tone that I didn't like and reached out to me with shaking hands.

I remember thinking right then, as I pushed myself up with my aching arms, 'this isn't right.' Heero hadn't gotten hit, not even once, he shouldn't have a tone like that. A tone like he was falling to pieces. I was happy that he hadn't been hurt, but he had been. I didn't know how to soothe that hurt, but I did understand it. I understood because I had felt it before... I feel it every day of my life, when I remember things. The pain of letting down a friend... the guilt of being the one that wasn't hurt when you should have been... Being helpless to do a single thing... I know that agony. I didn't want him to feel those things. I would have taken a dozen more beatings like that to keep him from feeling it. We were both helpless and clueless. Just like Zechs had said, two peas in a pod, both of us in the dark.

"I couldn't do anything," he whispered and withdrew his hand without touching me. I wished that he hadn't. Right then, I would have liked his touch, even if it would have hurt me, "Not a single fucking thing... Duo, I am so sorry... I'm so worthless!"

"Stop it," I rasped through my split lips, my throat feeling like I had swallowed sandpaper, "There was nothing you could have done. They would have just beat the crap out of you, too."

He made this sad, horrified moan as I sat up and he got a better look at me.

"You're hurt... fuck, Duo, you're a mess," he finally did touch me then, laying one of his hands very carefully and gently on my back to give me some support as my muscles trembled.

I couldn't help it, I laughed.

"Yeah, I think you might be right," I pressed my hand against my side and gasped at the agony that that little touch caused, "Well, that's a miracle," I muttered to myself.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

I was finally able to look him in the eye and the fear and guilt that I saw there almost made me choke.

"My ribs," I told him, "Don't know how, but they're not broken just cracked."

While that was a source of relief for me, it only made Heero look more horrified for some reason.

"We need to get you to a hospital," he demanded, but I shook my head.

"Don't need one," I mumbled and tried to get to my feet to prove that to him.

My legs didn't want to cooperate with my willpower, though, and I just ended back on my knees as they buckled. They weren't really hurt, but they throbbed and didn't want to hold my weight that soon after the beating.

"Dammit, Duo!" Heero snapped at me, "He beat the shit out of you! You're fucking bleeding-"

"I cut my scalp on the brick," I interrupted him before he could become hysterical, "It's not that bad of a wound, it's just bleeding a lot. It doesn't even need stitches. I've had a lot worse, I promise. At least he just used his fists this time."

My words did little to calm him down. My mind started to clear from the smashing it had received enough for logical thought to occur. I wondered, when he was looking at me just then, if he was seeing that friend of his that he had said had gotten hurt badly. I wanted to hug him and tell him that it was ok, I was ok, this wasn't like that time and I could handle this, but I really didn't think that my body was up to hugging anything.

"Can you help me up?" I asked him instead, giving him some small way to help.

I knew from personal experience that even something little like that would make him feel a little bit better, and it really did help me to have someone to lean on as I made my way to my feet.

"I want you to see a doctor," my friend stubbornly demanded.

I waved off his concerns.

"Heero, you need to understand. This has happened before, more than once. If I go to the hospital, all they're going to do is try to give me painkillers that I can't afford and tell me that I need ice and rest, which I can get at home," I tried to assure him.

"What if something's broken?" he insisted, "Or you have a concussion? He hit you really hard."

"I don't have either. I know my body, alright? I hurt like hell, I won't lie about that, but it could have been a whole lot worse. I'll look like shit for awhile and I'll feel like shit for even longer, but you did the right thing. I told you to stop and you did," I knew that it was the right thing to tell him, even when he quickly looked away from me, the guilt as clear on his face as the color of his eyes.

"Even when I was trying, I couldn't stop them," he muttered, "You got beat up and it was all my fault. Because of me... because I betrayed them, they hurt you. You tried to warn me and I didn't listen. I thought that they would just try to hit me a little, but this... I am so, so sorry..."

I couldn't handle his misery or that look in his eye, like he had just stepped on a puppy. Who was I that he cared so much about me? Or maybe that was just his real nature, the sort of friend that would feel this badly about not being able to protect someone that they cared about.

"Oh shut up," I grumbled, "My getting beat up was not your fault. Hell, if it weren't for you, they would have done worse to me yesterday. As far as I'm concerned, thanks to you, I got off lightly. But if you're set on feeling guilty over something that isn't your fault, you can help me limp home."

"You're going to be stubborn about this doctor thing, aren't you?" he sighed.

"I don't want to hear that from you," I snorted.

Heero carried my backpack for me and wrapped a hand around my waist to help me start to walk forward. I could tell that he was trying to keep his arm loose so he wouldn't hurt my busted up ribs, but there really wasn't anything he could do to stop the pain. Still, after that beating, him touching me so gently and supporting me felt blissful. I guess I'm that sort of freak, someone who can feel good from something so simple right after getting pounded into dust. He let me lean on him completely for awhile, but as we passed through central Nausten and into my side of town, I finally regained the ability to limp on my own. I could tell that Heero didn't like it, but he let me have that small bit of pride.

"Can you promise me something?" I asked him.

He looked over at me and that guilt was still there, telling me that I was going to win this argument no matter his personal feelings.

"What?"

"Promise me that you won't retaliate against this."

"You've got to be kidding," Heero started to protest incredulously, "Look at yourself! You can barely stand up, and all because I chose to hang out with that... that thug. Even if you don't blame me, which I don't understand because no matter what you say, it was because of my allegiance with him that brought this down on you, at least blame him! Are you really going to let him get away with this?"

"Yes," I snapped at him, "and so are you. Look, I get it. This is new to you, but I've been dealing with that prick for five damned years now. You don't think that I haven't wanted to take him down a peg or two, that I've never tried? When he first started in on me when I was twelve, Quatre warned me never to retaliate against Zechs or Relena, but I couldn't help myself. I knew what was right and what was wrong and I thought that I could make a difference. More than that, I wanted to protect my friend. And do you know what happened? I made it worse for the both of us! There is nothing you can do, Heero! Zechs has been beating the shit out of me since then, regardless of your role in things, and he is going to keep doing so. But the more that I keep my head down and just let him do it, the less he feels like doing it. Can't you understand how incredibly stupid it is standing up to someone like him?"

"It isn't right," he muttered, "He hurt you, and now you just want me to roll over and do nothing."

"Whether it's right or it isn't is irrelevant," I told him, "This isn't a moral issue. This is an issue of survival. You know what he's like now. You know what the price is for trying to be my friend. If you won't stay away from me, will you please at least promise me to watch your back?"

He was silent for a long time as we walked at our slow pace, but even before we spoke, I knew that his feelings of guilt, that he owed me, would get him to agree with me. I nearly sighed in relief when he finally nodded.

"But who is going to watch yours?" he said out loud, although I don't think that he meant to.

"Just because you can't get back at him doesn't mean that we can't watch each other's backs," I pointed out, "We'll just have to look out for each other in ways that are a lot smarter than attacking him after the fact."

He fell silent for awhile and didn't say a word until we were standing in front of my house.

"I don't know how you've been able to live with this all this time," he said softly, "I've only been bullied for a day and I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"You camouflaged yourself for a reason," I shrugged, "I can't hate you for the way that you've been treating me because I can understand not wanting to be hurt like this. I never had the luxury of that, I was targeted from the first day I entered public school. And yeah, when it first happened, it hurt a lot and I didn't know if I was going to be able to handle it. But after awhile, you just learn ways to live with it. Having a friend helps. The hardest thing is to let it go, to let them do it to you. Sometimes surviving is the only way you can cope and, as much as you hate it, you have to ignore your pride."

He shook his head.

"How can you not understand how much I admire you?" he said in amazement, completely taking me by surprise.

"W-what? What is that supposed to mean?!" I sputtered, "Haven't you been listening? I'm nothing but a coward who can't even do what's right, all to save my own skin! You're the one that wants to stand up to Zechs! I think it's foolish, but you're a hell of a lot braver than I am! I'm willing to let him to do whatever he wants, even if it's nasty and degrading, just so I won't get hurt! I'm pathetic!"

"You're strong," he corrected in this soft, kind tone, "and you're a survivor. I don't know if I can be that strong."

I was completely at a loss for words. How could I make him understand the kind of terrible person that I was? How low I was? It seemed like no matter what I said, it just fueled these stupid ideas of his.

"Are you really going to be ok?" he asked me, glancing at my house.

"I'll be fine," I assured him, "The bleeding's stopped, I just need to lay down for a long while. You don't need to worry about me."

"Yes I do," he muttered under his breath and I knew that he hadn't meant for me to hear that.

We waved each other goodbye, although I could clearly see his reluctance to leave me alone. He was going to have to get used to it. I could also tell how naive that he was being. He was thinking that this beating... this little 'lesson' of Zechs's had been a one time thing. But I knew that, if we continued to be seen together at school, Zechs and his friends were going to keep coming after us. I walked into my house, finding it blessedly empty and made a beeline for the kitchen.

The first thing that I did was call up my bosses and tell them that I was too sick to work that day. It pained me to do so, since I didn't have any serious injuries, but it couldn't be helped. There was no way I was going to lift cargo in my state without making things worse and my eye was still swollen shut, which meant my depth perception was off. If I really had to, I could make do and compensate, but with the kind of work I do at my construction job, it was risky. Besides, if I showed up to work covered in bruises and favoring my ribs, people were going to ask questions that I was just not in the mood to answer.

My large task done, I limped upstairs to see if Pepper needed a refill on her food and water before going back downstairs again. My muscles were starting to scream at me and, now that my adrenaline from the fight was leaving me, I knew that a flat surface was in my immediate future, voluntary or otherwise. I worked quickly in the bathroom, washing the blood off my face and ear. The bite that Zechs had given me looked uglier than my other wounds, even my black eye, and I liberally swabbed it with alcohol so it wouldn't get infected. I tried not to remember how it had felt like, him savagely biting me like an animal marking its prey. I dug through the medicine cabinet and found a handful of different kinds of painkillers; regular acetaminophen, ibuprofen, naproxen, the painkiller that my mother took for her migraines, and the pills that she had been prescribed after her most recent stint in the hospital. I mulled over my choices and decided that I was in enough pain to warrant taking the stronger stuff, but I only took one of them, just in case it bowled me over.

I completed my first aid by completely using up the tube of anti-inflammatory, pain relief cream that we had on every bruise and swollen muscle that I could find. In the kitchen, I filled a plastic bag up with ice to make an ice pack and migrated to the couch in the living room. As much as I just wanted to crash in the laughable safety of my bedroom, my mattress was too flat. I gathered up the pillows on the couch and tucked them under my legs, head, and arms and hoped that would help at least a little bit. I rested the ice pack against my swollen eyelid and promptly blacked out.
*****
A loud noise jostled me awake hours later, startling me so badly that I almost fell off the couch. For a few minutes, all I could do was stare into the dimly lit room, having no clue where I was. The pain in my limbs and face were a helpful reminder of why I wasn't lying down in my bed. I groaned and almost rubbed tiredly at my eyes before I remembered why I touching that part of my face was a bad idea. The sharp pain of my various injuries had eased into a much more annoying, aching throb. Worse, I was horribly stiff from not moving and it took way too much effort just to sit up. My head spun and thrummed unpleasantly, but I couldn't tell if it was from the beating or the medication that I had taken. A glance at the clock told me that it was nine at night. At least my mother's pills had taken me under long enough to get some decent rest, but my stomach was gleefully reminding me that among everything else, I hadn't had dinner yet. Thankfully, Zechs hadn't hit me in the mouth more than a couple of times, so I could probably stand to eat something.

Another loud noise, the sound of something being thrown into our kitchen sink, had me quickly swinging my legs over the side of the couch so I could move fast if I needed to. It hurt like hell, but my fearful instincts were a lot stronger than the pain. I looked at the clock in confusion, thinking that I must have read it wrong, but it really did say nine. My father would be at work for another hour, so who was throwing things around in the kitchen, unless he had gone home early for some reason? It had to be my mother, but she really wasn't the throwing and slamming sort of person. If she was in a bad mood, she would mostly brood and yell, but that was about it.

Curiosity overrode my caution and I slowly and stiffly got to my feet and walked into the kitchen. I walked in just in time to see my mother standing in front of the refrigerator, rummaging through it for something. She was still wearing her waitressing uniform, but her hair was coming out of her loose braid and there were dark, worn circles under her eyes. She paused in her rummaging to scratch viciously at her arm so hard that I was amazed she hadn't hurt herself. There were similar red marks on her pale skin and I wondered if she was sick, or if this was some new, anxious tic of hers.

I had noticed her scratching herself like that in the last few days. She had also been incredibly irritable, picking stupid fights with my father and I. I had just tried to ignore her. I was sure that something had happened at work that was stressing her out, but it seemed like it was more than that. It was like she was losing all of her sense of self-preservation. Even my father hitting her hadn't made her lose that irritability. She had also been getting her migraines a lot more, so seeing her face pinched in that familiar, pained expression wasn't surprising. I worried that those headaches might be a sign of something more, but I knew that I couldn't suggest that to her.

She suddenly slammed the refrigerator door shut and gave out this sound of incredible anger and frustration that was almost a scream, making me jump. Before I could entertain thoughts of returning back to the living room so I wouldn't get into a fight with her, she turned and saw me there.

"What the fuck are you doing home?!" she snarled, her once pretty face contorting into a look that would have been more at home on a feral dog.

She took a swig of a bottle that she held in her hand. To my surprise, it wasn't vodka or whiskey or even a bottle of beer, but water. That explained her pissy attitude towards the fridge, she must have been out of alcohol. And actually, now that I was thinking about it, I hadn't seen her drink a single thing in about a week and a half. That was like the sighting of the preverbal white whale in my household. Maybe she had only been drinking when I hadn't been around or maybe she had been out for that long. Neither of those things made sense to me since neither of my parents could stand being out of booze for more than a couple of minutes before they made their pilgrimage to the local liquor store. They had bought some more fairly recently, also, so in order for her to be out already, she must have been drinking even more. That made some sense to me. It might explain her behavior, if she was guzzling down alcohol like that. But I had been catching her up very late at night, like she couldn't sleep, and she never had a drink in hand. She would just pace, scratching herself, and yell at me for gawking at her.

"Don't you have a job?" she snapped at me, "The only thing that makes you living here bearable is that I don't have to look at you all day! Now you're skipping out on work, just like that bastard father of yours?! Why are all the men in this family so damned useless?!" she finally got a good look at me and laughed dryly at the bruises on my face, "And you got into another fight again! You're turning out real well, a regular thug, just like him! I suppose one day you'll come home and tell me that you've knocked up some tramp next!"

I don't know why exactly. Maybe it was the fact that my aches and hurts were making me a bit irritable myself. Maybe it was her comparing me to my father. Whatever the reason, right then, I got pissed and none of my good sense could stop me from letting it explode out of me. I strode up to her and got in her face, not even caring when she flinched and took a step back.

"You're one to fucking talk," I snarled right back at her, "At least I'm not so pathetic that I need to be drunk all the time just to get through life! What gives you the right to think that, just because you've had a bad day at work and can't drink yourself into a stupor for all five damned seconds that you have an excuse to be such a flaming bitch-"

She slapped me, hard across my face. I stared at her in wordless shock, not from the pain of the blow as it struck one of my worst bruises, but from the fact that she had been the one to do it. My mother had hit me. She never hit me. It was one of her only redeeming qualities. She might say horrible things to me and push me, but she had never struck me in all of the almost seventeen years of my life. I wasn't the only one shocked by it. My mother's face went pale and her grey eyes went wide as she stared at the mark she had made on my cheek. She looked... shaken, a lot like how Heero had looked when he had watched Zechs beat me. Then the moment was gone and her face contorted back into one of rage.

"Why don't you just go and die like you were supposed to?!" she snapped but for some bizarre reason, completely unlike the things she had told me about how I had been unwanted, her words lacked any kind of actual heat, like it had been nothing more than a reflexive, defensive gesture for her.

She shoved past me and retreated into her bedroom, slamming the door so hard that it was a wonder she hadn't broken it. I touched my cheek where she had hit me very lightly, but it still made me wince in pain. What the hell had that been about? Was her testy attitude really because she was drinking more? But when I opened the fridge to get some water for myself, I saw that there were a couple of bottles of whisky in there, one of them unopened. The one that was had been pushed in the far back and had obviously not been touched in awhile.

This intense worry took over me. None of it made any sense; her behavior, her headaches, the scratching. I stopped thinking about her drinking more and started thinking about more insidious things. Things like liver disease, especially cirrhosis. Maybe that had been the real reason for her lengthy hospital stay and she was just hiding it from everyone. We didn't get along, and I'll never say that I necessarily like my mother, but the thought that she was sick, maybe even fatally, tore at me. I don't know why, but the thought that this was something that I could never talk to her about hurt me. That, one day, I would come home and she wouldn't be there anymore and I would have never learned a single thing about the woman that had brought me into this world left me feeling a pain that I had tried to bury deep inside of me these last four years.
End Part 1
Author's Note: I have returned! The move and convention were largely successful, although it took me a long time to unpack, lol. I still can't believe I'm this far ahead into this story. Chapter 7 is kind of a weird one, also it's longer than Chapter 6, so please bare with me ^_^
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A Stagnation of Love (rewrite)