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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

Chapter List
- 35
- 36
A Stagnation of Love

Chapter 7

Part 8
　

It took the entire time writing that for me to finally be seen by a doctor. I'm used to being patient in waiting rooms while I'm injured, but my mother was antsy and nervous, either from my presence or her guilt, I wasn't sure. She kept distracting me and made the wait seem three times as long. She never asked me what I was writing, but I could tell that she was curious. I'm just grateful that my left shoulder was dislocated instead of my right, it would have been a really boring wait.

I somehow managed to get the same ER doc that I had gotten from breaking my rib. I gave him some bullshit reason for my injuries, a better one than I had come up with the previous time, but I knew that he wasn't buying it, even with my mother backing me up. He gave her this little, disapproving glare that was somehow humorous to me, and lectured me about concussions, limited use of my left shoulder, and how I really needed to start to take care of myself. He also checked my rib and was pleased with it's state of healing, which was an immense relief to me. I guess I haven't reached that end of the line quite yet.

There wasn't much that he could do for my injuries. My shoulder joint was forced back into place, my arm put into a sling, I was given pain medication and ice for my eye and shoulder, then left alone. The doctor wanted to keep me overnight to make sure that I kept my shoulder immobilized and that there were no complications from my concussion. I was just fine with that, and so was my mother. Neither of us wanted to go home right away, not after what had happened.

So, here I am in a typical situation, sitting in a hospital bed and I can't even go to sleep. Is it stupid that all I can think about right now is whether or not I should tell Heero where I am? I'll probably be ok to go to school today, but he's going to flip when he sees my new black eye and my arm in this sling. But I just can't bring myself to call him at 2 am to tell him that I'm hurt again. He'll freak out and come over here as fast as he can, and what will I tell him? When I got my broken rib, he was outright horrified and it had been almost impossible trying to convince him not to do anything about it. He's my best friend, but sometimes his concern is too overwhelming for me to handle. I can barely handle dealing with my mother right now, let alone him.

So where did I leave off? Oh, right, Monday night. My hope that my mother would stay away from me that night came to fruition. By some kind of miracle, I didn't see either of my parents all of that night or morning. I set my alarm for five am so I could wake up early enough to eat breakfast and take a shower before meeting Heero and tried to fall asleep, but my body or brain or whatever it was decided that let me toss and turn for thirty minutes. There was no real reason for it, which happens more than I would like, I wasn't especially restless, I just couldn't sleep.

I got up, looked over my Calculus notes for a couple more hours, and then tried to go to sleep again with more success that time. I managed a whole four hours of uninterrupted, deep sleep before my alarm woke me up. I had one of those ancient dreams that likes to come and torment me when I least expect it to. Not the ones of my father raping me, these are much older. It was the one where I'm running to save Quatre from the truck, only this time, no matter how fast I run, I can't get to him in time.

Usually in this dream, the truck hits me, too and damages me in some way or Relena pushes me in front of it, but this time it was different. This time, the truck missed me and I turned to find Heero looking at me with disappointment. In the dream, I tried to explain to him that it wasn't my fault, that I had tried to save Quatre, but he just shook his head and walked away. I ran after him, but he disappeared into nothing. Maybe one day, I'll have a nice dream again, instead of these fucked up nightmares that touch a bit too close to reality.

Despite the dream, I didn't toss and turn much, so it left me feeling pretty well rested. That I was going to go running with Heero didn't hurt putting a little bit of bounce in my step. I had no clue if forcing myself to go running was going to help my depression at all, but spending time with my friend was definitely not a bad thing. I showered, dressed in loose, cotton pants and a long sleeved shirt, ate a breakfast of oatmeal, milk, and a banana, tended to Pepper's needs, and left the house right at 6 am.

Heero couldn't have picked a better morning during the Winter for running. It wasn't too cold, the sky was clear and blue, and there was barely any wind for once. I only wore one of my jackets that morning, knowing that I was going to get too hot while running if I wore both. I stopped by the school to drop off my bag before heading over to the park, storing it in my locker and knowing that it was safe in there that early in the morning. I was still a little bit early when I got to the park, but to my surprise, Heero was already waiting for me there.

"Good morning," he greeted.

"'Morning," I said back.

"You ready for this?" he asked, actually sounding a little bit guilty.

"It's just a run," I scoffed, not wanting him to think for a single second that he had forced me into this, "Just because I haven't done it for awhile doesn't mean that I'm out of shape."

He smiled at me and took the lead at a leisurely pace at first. While it was certainly true that I hadn't gone jogging in awhile, it was just like ice skating. My body had never really forgotten how and it was easy for me to keep pace with Heero when I fell into that rhythm. When he saw that I was keeping up with him without much effort, he increased his own pace and, steadily, we found a speed that suited the both of us.

It was kind of strange at first, not just because I hadn't done it for awhile, but because I had never actually run with anyone before. I was faster than Heero was, but he wasn't as slow as Quatre, so I didn't have to force myself down into an uncomfortable stride. After awhile of adjusting my pace, something just kind of clicked into place and it began to feel like the most natural thing in the world. We ran, side by side, into the wooded path together. We were the only two there and the only sounds that I could hear were from the wind blowing through the trees and the sweet sympathy of various bird songs. I could feel the familiar sensation of my braid brushing against the back of my neck and this feeling like I was passing the world by, just running right through it with the boy that I loved, like nothing could touch me.

And just like that, it was like some terrible, heavy tarp was being drawn from me. The joy that I had always felt when running before, that sense of freedom and just forcing out all my stress through the motions of my body, was there. I felt peaceful and happy. I felt like I had before, when I used to run and pretend that Quatre was running with me. I tried to conjure him again, like I used to when I wanted to be comforted, when I wanted to be with someone, but he wouldn't come.

I couldn't imagine Quatre there, running with us like I used to. I almost felt a panic, thinking like I had before, when I had realized that I hadn't fantasized him in a long time, that I wasn't able to find that comfort anymore. But then I realized that my inability to conjure up the one thing that had comforted me these last three years wasn't because I couldn't find that comfort. For once, it was because I didn't need to be comforted. I didn't need a figment of my imagination. It was just Heero and I there, on that path, and that was ok. That was wonderful.

For the first time in three years, I didn't need the Quatre that lived in my head. A part of me felt pure terror from that knowledge, but another part felt this intense relief and freedom. I didn't know what to feel. I felt like I was betraying Quatre all over again. His death had been my fault and there I was, discarding him. But as much as thinking about him and pretending that he was still alive had brought me comfort, it had also been very painful. Not needing to imagine him anymore didn't make his death any less horrible for me, but knowing that it was Heero's presence that made me feel at peace and not a ghost... something real, made me feel happy for some reason.

I could still do it, I realized as we circled back towards the park with such relief that I almost cried. I could still feel happy. I could still enjoy things. I had forgotten how, or it had been locked up behind my misery, but it hadn't been stolen from me like I had thought that it had. I had just needed Heero to drag it back out again. Little by little, he was bringing me back from the brink of nothing. I just couldn't seem to make up my mind if that was a good thing or not, if I wanted to come back or if things would be better if I would just let oblivion claim me. It would hurt less, letting that nothing take the last shards of me. But that morning, I reveled in feelings that I had thought had been ripped out of me for good.

When we got back to the entrance of the park, Heero was panting slightly, but I was feeling pretty good. I hadn't even known that it was possible for my body to actually physically miss the exercise of running, but it felt amazing to fall back into those old patterns. Heero had been right about my needing to just get out and force myself to do these things, I just had refused to believe him.

"I'm going to try out for the track team today," I said with a very rare boldness that was completely out of character for me.

"Really?" my friend asked in shock.

I nodded. I can't say why, exactly, but at that moment, I knew that I had to do it. Maybe I had gotten a little bit of confidence, regaining my enjoyment for running, or maybe I was that eager to compete against Zechs and prove to him and his lot that I could be just as good as them at something. Maybe I just wanted Heero to be proud of me for once, instead of the other way around. I don't know, it was only a feeling, but it seemed like the right thing to do all of a sudden.

"That's great!" Heero exclaimed, "I'll be there, rooting for you."

"You don't have to do that," I said shyly, feeling my face go red hot.

"Of course I do," he smiled at me, "You're my friend, and it's the least I can do after you went to my try outs and our first game. Even if your cheering section won't be as big as Zechs's, it'll be more sincere."

I managed a small smile at that. For a moment, I felt doubt about what I was going to do. Years of bullying reminded me of what a terrible idea this was. If Zechs and his goons found out that I was going to try out against him, they were going to slaughter me, and not even God could help me if I actually got onto the team. But I can't deny that there was a part of me that felt some excitement, some desire to do my best and beat him. It was the same part of me that had tried to rebel against him and Relena when I had been younger, against all of Quatre's warnings not to. I had thought that that part of me had died after Zechs had almost drowned me in retaliation, but I guess that day was a day for bringing things back from the dead.

I only hoped that Quatre was wrong for once and what I was about to do wasn't going to get Heero and I killed. But even that terrible fear wasn't enough to keep me from doing it. I can at least blame that on Heero. If there is one thing that I can't survive, it isn't Zechs's bullying, it's Heero being disappointed in me.
*****
Coach Horner was beside himself when he saw me add my name to the try out sheet for track before our gym class started.

"Finally caved, huh?" he practically bellowed at me with pride, like he had been instrumental in my signing up for try outs.

I almost flinched at the sheer volume of the man's voice, having hoped to add my name to the roster as discreetly as possible.

"Just thought I'd give it a shot," I muttered with a heavy sigh.

"That's the spirit!" he clapped me on the shoulder, "No backing out, ey?"

His behavior was almost enough to make me erase my name out of pure spite. If Heero hadn't been the one to talk me into it in the first place, I probably would have as I wondered about my own sanity. I turned from him and met Relena's glare from across the gym. She had that look again, like she was fantasizing about ripping my eyes out with her nails. All I could think was 'fuck' as I knew why she was glaring at me. I tried to walk discreetly to the boys' locker room so I could change into my gym uniform, but Relena somehow made sure that our paths would cross. As I tried to walk past her, she grabbed my arm in a death grip.

"If you know what's good for you," she hissed at me, "You'll walk right back over there and erase your name."

"Excuse me?" I played dumb, wondering if there was any way to dislodge myself from her grip without causing an incident.

"You heard me," she snarled, "You aren't going to compete against my brother. What do you think a pathetic, clumsy loser like you is going to do anyway? Why don't you save yourself some time and us the sight of you making a mockery of a sport and go back to your hole?"

I angrily yanked my arm out from her grip and quickly lost control over myself, doing that suicidal thing that I tend to do in situations where I should just shut up and crawl away, and opened my stupid mouth.

"What are you so worried about?" I said coldly, "All your brother has to do is be faster than I am. That should be no problem for a big, tough athlete like him, right?"

Her expression was shocked for a moment, like she couldn't believe that I had had the audacity to say that, before it melted into this hateful, enraged glare. I got out of there and disappeared into the locker room before she could do anything to me. It was a dubious sanctuary. She had, after all, gone after me into the boys' bathroom on the day that we had met, but she was older now and the locker room was almost full of our classmates at that point. She wouldn't cause a scene or be known as the girl that so boldly went into the boys' locker room. As I hurriedly went in, I almost collided with Heero who had been loitering in the doorway, watching the two of us. To my surprise, when I looked back at Relena, I expected her to be glaring at him or say something cruel, but she only looked startled and uncomfortable to see him there and even quicker than I had, turned and walked towards the girls' locker room like she was running away from him. Weird.

"What did she want?" Heero asked a bit tersely.

"To discourage me from trying out for track," I said plainly and walked past him to my locker.

"You didn't let her get to you, did you?" my friend asked me worriedly, almost panicked and I wondered why my doing this was so important to him.

I suppose that I could have told him no. It was on my mind, which was still far from made up on the subject. It wasn't just fear of Relena and Zechs, it went a lot deeper than that. Going to school with them had taught me to never raise my head any further than they would allow, to never be noticed. I was a maggot and I belonged in the dirt. If I ever tried to leave, the birds would peck at me. And dirt was all that I had ever deserved, my father had taught me that much. I couldn't do anything. I was worthless and weak, and I would fail in anything that I tried, so why even bother trying? It felt unnatural to me to try to do any better, to try out and pit my own skills against those of my classmates. Failing was all that I could possibly do.

But it was Heero again that kept me from quitting. Compared to the hope in those blue eyes, compared to the knowledge of how disappointed he would be in me if I quit, Relena threatening me was nothing. My fear of failure was nothing. I think that I would do just about anything for him to be proud of me, even cut off my own tongue.

"No," I gave him a half-hearted smile, "I said I would do it. Besides, I've been dealing with her threats since we were kids."

But that resolve did absolutely nothing to make me feel better when we neared the end of the gym period and Coach Horner interrupted a game of basketball to remind us of the track try outs and how we should all go to cheer for our classmates. The reminder of what I was going to be doing after class had me in fits. I felt like my stomach was trying to crawl it's way out of my throat.

"Oh, fuck, what am I doing," I wrung my braid in my hands and felt like I was going to throw up, "This is crazy."

"Hey, it's ok," Heero put a hand on my shoulder.

"No, it isn't!" I exclaimed, throwing up my hands, "I can't believe that I let you talk me into doing this! I'm going to make a complete ass out of myself and... and, I don't know, fall on my face or something! It's inevitable!"

"You aren't going to make an ass of yourself," he soothed and lightly tugged on my hair to get me to look at him, "There's no way you'll be anything other than amazing. Don't even focus on anyone else when you get out there. You don't have anything to prove to any of them. Just run like you have something to run for."

I stared at him, his soft smile and his bright eyes, so full of confidence in me. He actually believed every word that he said, that I was going to be amazing. I understood, in that moment as he looked at me, and I didn't want to. I felt very frightened all of a sudden and wanted to argue that he was wrong, so very wrong, but I couldn't. As much as my sudden epiphany was unwanted, there was another part of me that craved that confidence of his. I wanted to believe in everything that he believed. I wanted to be the person that he saw when he looked at me, even more than I had wanted to be the child that my parents had wanted. I had been unable to be that child for them, no matter how hard I had tried to change myself. What could I possibly do to make sure that I didn't let Heero down, too?

I still felt like I was going to jump out of my skin when the bell rang for the end of the school day. I felt exactly like I had when I had let Quatre talk me into entering the spelling bee in the fifth grade, only at least that was something that I had known that I was good at. I tried to push my anxiety out of my head for a little while as Heero and I headed for the showers, but I just felt like my stomach was filled with those classic and cliched butterflies.

Heero took his shower first as I patiently waited by the locker room door for him.

"Your turn," he urged when he came out, his hair wet and wearing his regular clothes.

"Pretty stupid," I muttered, "Taking a shower when I'm just going to put my gym clothes back on for the try outs."

He shrugged in agreement, but taking a shower after gym was a requirement, so my logic was pretty irrelevant. I was headed to the changing area when I spotted Pete Clark, Trant's younger brother, approaching Heero. I felt my hair bristle, certain that he was going to start trouble, but he made a determined beeline for my friend.

"Yuy," he said gruffly and it was the irritation in his voice, like he wanted to be anywhere but there, that made him seem credible, "Horner wants to talk to you."

Heero glanced at me and I knew exactly what he was thinking. He couldn't really ignore his coach, not when it probably had something to do with his baseball team, but if he wasn't there to watch my back when I showered, Zechs was probably going to do something to me, and if I waited for him to come back, I was going to be late for try outs and probably disqualified.

"Go," I urged him, "I can take care of myself."

"Are you sure?" he asked me, ignoring Clark's growing impatience.

"Yeah, I'll see you out on the field, ok?" I was ready to actually push him when he still looked hesitant, clearly worried about me, but he finally took the hint and walked off with Pete.

Now, I know what you're thinking. After all these years, you would think that I would be able to smell a trap coming from a mile away. And I can. Pete's timing was a little bit too good to be a coincidence, but there was still a big possibility that he had been telling the truth. Even if he hadn't been, if Zechs wanted to ambush me in the locker room, I just couldn't see how Heero's presence was going to help me beyond warning me ahead of time. So, highly cautious and on alert for everything, I got undressed, put my clothes on the nearby bench, and took my shower as quickly as humanely possible. When I got out, I was far from surprised to find my clothes and gym sneakers gone, but still dismayed.

Dressed in only a shitty, school towel and my hair down, I felt incredibly self conscious as I snuck to my locker, but there was thankfully no one else in the locker room. I found my locker door wide open and felt my heart sink into my stomach. By some kind of miracle of kindness, my regular clothes were still there and my backpack was untouched, but my other pair of sneakers were gone. Someone had stolen my shoes. Two guesses as to who and both would be right on the money. I dressed, combed my hair, and began my manhunt for my missing sneakers, but I was positive that they were long gone.

Frustration mounted in me as I realized that the tryouts were only a couple of minutes away. Even if the shoenapper had put them someplace where I would eventually be able to find them, there was no way I was going to make it in time. I should have been relieved. I had an excuse to get out of doing something that I hadn't completely wanted to do in the first place, but I wasn't. I was pissed off. Maybe I had been nervous about trying out for track, but dammit, I had somehow found the resolve to do it and some part of me had wanted to at least try. Hoping was against my nature, but I still walked out of the locker room, praying that I would find my sneakers in the gym somewhere and I might be able to make it to the try outs if I ran. I was thoroughly unsurprised when I saw that the only two people left in the gym were Relena and Dorothy, sitting on the bleachers and talking about their upcoming winter vacation.

"Where are they?" I snapped at Relena.

"What on earth are you talking about?" she asked me with wide eyed, fake innocence as she and her friend stood up.

"My shoes," I gritted out, "I know that you took them. Where are they?"

"Oh, is that what they were?" she said in equally fake shock, putting a hand in front of her mouth to hide her superior smirk, "As old and ratty as they were, I mistook them for cheap kindling. I'm terribly sorry."

She patted me on the shoulder as though she were sympathetic and I couldn't help but flinch from her, not wanting her to so much as touch me. Dorothy laughed cruelly at my reaction and the two of them walked past me, leaving me there in the gym. As Relena walked by me, flicking her long hair over her shoulder, I smelled the very faint aroma of smoke. Then it hit me. 'Cheap kindling.' The fucking bitch had thrown my shoes into the school incinerator. It hadn't been enough for her to just hide them on me. She had destroyed the only sneakers that I had owned, all to make absolutely sure that I couldn't race against her brother. She had even taken my socks, the sadistic cunt.

I sat down on the bleachers, suddenly feeling like I had this huge weight in my gut and I couldn't possibly stand up anymore. I hung my head and gripped at my bangs hard enough for it to hurt. It's probably stupid that I wasn't thinking about how I was going to get home with no shoes, or how I was going to be able to afford, not only one pair, but two. No, I was thinking about the try outs. I was thinking about having to forfeit and all the things that Relena and Zechs had taken from me over the years. I guess this was pretty small and insignificant compared to what they had done to Quatre, but it hurt.

For once in my life, I had wanted something. I had wanted to be something more than I was, if only for a few minutes. I had wanted to try to be good at something... and they had taken it away from me like everything else. All so Zechs could get on the team. They had stolen it so easily and all I could do was just accept it. What else could I do? It was just like Relena had said. I was a pathetic, clumsy loser anyway. I would have just embarrassed myself in front of Heero if I had tried out, and all I could was continue to be a loser.

No. I lifted my head up again as a steely, cold resolve suddenly came over me. No, I thought over and over again, she wasn't going to win this one. There was something that I could do. I could still race, even without my shoes. I could show the bitch that no matter what she did to me, no matter how much she tormented me and Heero and no matter what new, terrible, horrible thing she threw at me, I would always be here. If she wanted to get rid of me, she was going to have to kill me herself and if she wanted to push me back down into my place, she was going to have to do a hell of a lot better than burning my shoes.

Fueled by anger and pure, intense stubbornness, I gathered my things and, barefoot, I ran to the track field. Every one else trying out for the team were already on the track and there were only a few people on the bleachers to watch. I easily spotted Heero there and he waved cheerfully at me. Relena and Dorothy were on the opposite end from him and when she saw me approach, Relena's face twisted into one of both fury and bewilderment.

"You're late!" Horner barked at me and I secretly wondered if he had been waiting for me since it was the past the time that they were supposed to start, "And what the hell are you doing barefoot?! You can't run like that, Maxwell!"

"Sorry," I apologized sheepishly, trying to ignore how the staring from my classmates was making my stomach churn, "I misplaced my shoes, but I can still run, it's no problem."

The coach looked dubious at that, but he just shrugged.

"They're your feet," he grumbled, "and there are no do-overs for try outs."

"I know," I told him.

Horner shook his head at my obvious stupidity, still looking hesitant at having me race, but gestured to one of the lanes on the track for me to stand.

There were fifteen people, including myself and Zechs, trying out for the team and only eight lanes, so we got split off into two groups. By some kind of luck, the kind that seriously makes me think that the universe has it out for me, I not only got put into the same group as Zechs, but was put into the lane next to his. He glared coldly at me when he took his place next to me.

"Big mistake, Maxwell," he sneered at me, "Why don't you go home with the rest of the losers before you embarrass yourself?"

Fear lanced through my gut at his stare, but I tried hard just to ignore him. I had come all that way and I wasn't going to let him rankle me before the race even started. Horner came around to lecture us that we would be the first group and the rules that we needed to abide by in running, how he wouldn't tolerate any horseplay, to keep by our lanes and get off the track as soon as we had finished our third loop.

As he walked off to give the same speech to the second group, a quick movement in the corner of my eye startled me. I stumbled backwards just in time to miss Zechs's foot as he stomped it down where my left, bare foot would have been. The impact would have been strong enough to have broken my toes, at the very least, and it had only been my quick instincts that had saved me from injury, even as the pavement took a layer of skin off the bottom of my foot.

"Sorry about that," Zechs grinned cruelly at me.

I very carefully walked back into place, but didn't take my eyes off of him in case he tried anything else. The pavement of the track under my feet was icy cold and I knew just by feeling it that it was going to tear up the bottom of my feet when I started running. That alone was enough to make me wonder if it was such a good idea, but I refused to quit. I had spent my entire time in public school keeping my head down, terrified of standing out in case I would get punished for it, but not that day. I think I understood then that if I backed down that time, that would be it for me. I would never be able to stand back up again.

"Duo!" I heard Heero calling my name from the bleachers and looked over at him, just in time to see him take off his own sneakers, tie the laces together, and throw them towards me.

I ran out of line to catch them and beamed up at my friend, waving to him in thanks. He looked incredibly pleased with himself while Relena looked like she was going to scream. And the look on Zechs's face when I put Heero's shoes on was well worth just being there to see it, like he had just eaten something sour. Heero's shoes were actually pretty close in size to my own, just a bit too wide, but I sure as hell wasn't going to complain.

"We done?" Horner asked dryly, quirking one eyebrow at Heero and mine's antics.

"Yup," I quipped back and walked back into my lane.

As I got into position at Horner's command, I suddenly realized that every, single ounce of my anxiety had vanished. I didn't feel afraid anymore about fucking up. I wasn't even scared of Zechs. All I felt was this blissfully warm and content sensation in my chest as I replayed Heero throwing me his shoes over and over again in my head. My love for him filled me up in a way that my fears could never compete with and right then, as I heard him cheering for me amidst the other cheers, I didn't even care how well I did. I could have come in dead last and I would have been just as happy as if I had been the fastest one there.

Horner blew his whistle, signaling the beginning of the race. Almost immediately, Zechs's leg stretched out, preparing to trip me as I pushed off from our start position, but I was ready for it. I quickly darted over his leg and fell into a steady run. He easily got ahead of me and I let him think that he had slowed me down. I kept up a pace that was comfortable and wouldn't strain me too much without giving the other runners too much ground on me. This was what I was used to, just jogging at an even pace for a long period of time, but I knew that it wasn't going to let me get a decent time.

I knew that I could beat Zechs easily, but while that was a great perk, it wasn't my goal. I wanted to prove to everyone; my classmates, Zechs, Relena, Heero... myself, that I could do this, that I could do my best and where I fell compared to others. I needed to know who was right, my fears and my father, or my hopes and Heero. Was I a loser or could I do something like this? Could I compete and actually succeed in something? Was my friend right and all I needed was self confidence, or was the man that raised me right in believing that I was useless and would never accomplish anything?

I wasn't sure which I wanted to be true. On the one hand, I wanted to believe that I could be more than just another south end loser. I wanted to believe that I could be good enough for Heero, to be his friend and not just someone he was dragging along. But on the other, I was terrified to know that I had been lied to my entire life, that I had believed everything that my father and Relena had said, that I was pathetic. I didn't want to know that I could have done more with myself, that I had been dragging myself down. More than anything, I didn't want to believe that my father had crippled me like that, and I sure as hell didn't want to know if it had been on purpose.

I kept my even pace up until the last full lap. I was right behind Zechs, just in eighth place. I was going to have to pick up speed and maintain it the full lap if I wanted to get ahead of him. But how? The only times that I had ever gone faster than I was running at that point were when I was being chased and when I had needed to save Quatre, out of pure necessity. The latter had been a very short, but incredibly fast burst of speed, and the former had been more sustained, but almost as hard to maintain.

"Just run like you have something to run for," Heero had said to me. But what did I have to run for? I could run like that to escape danger or to save someone that I loved, but I wasn't in that kind of situation. I thought about the fear that I always felt in those situations, the fear of getting caught and knowing that a beating was happening, but it wouldn't come to me and I didn't want to hold on to something so dark just to try to win a race. I thought about the day that I had saved Quatre, the day that Horner's weird obsession with the rumors of my speed had started. I thought about the terror that I had felt, fearing that I was going to be too late. But that hadn't been the only reason why I had been able to run like that. Above the fear, there had been a feeling of love for my best friend and an incredible drive to protect him and shelter him at that moment, when I had been unable to do so for all of our friendship.

'Heero,' I remember thinking very clearly. If I had anything to run for, instead of something to run from, it was him. It was because of him that I was running at all. He had pushed me and convinced me to do it. Hell, he had pushed me to get a decent grade on my history test and he was pushing me to study for my math final. If it weren't for him, I would still be in that dark place that my father and Quatre's death had dragged me into. Any happiness I feel is because he cares about me. He believes in me. He believed that I could do well in the race.

So I imagined that it was him that I was running to. Not to save Quatre and not to run from my father, but to Heero, to protect him like I had failed to protect the only other friend that I had had. And just like that, I felt it. That burning fire that had filled me the day that I had almost gotten killed by that truck, that drive to throw away all of my conceptions about what I couldn't do and only focus on what needed to be done, to hell with my limitations. I burst forward, past Zechs, and caught his face twisting into an expression of anger and frustration, knowing that he was running as fast as he could, having used up most of his energy in the first two laps, and even if he hadn't, he wouldn't be able to seriously compete with me anyway.

For a moment as I passed, not only him, but a couple of the other boys in front of me, I seriously worried that I wasn't going to be able to maintain that speed, but I let it all flow out of me. It didn't matter, I told myself. The pain in my legs and my chest didn't matter. My fear of failure didn't matter. All that mattered was the feeling of my feet hitting the ground and the wind flowing past me. I fell into this head space where no one else existed, not even the other runners, and all that I cared about was putting another step forward, and then another. By the time that I passed Horner to complete the last lap, my whole body was burning with strain and I was panting so hard that I had to stop and stand there in the grass to the side of the track with a few of my classmates to catch my breath, but I barely even felt it.

I ended up being in a very close second place in my group. I can't even begin to describe the amount of satisfaction it gave me. I hadn't fucked up. I hadn't embarrassed myself in front of Heero. My passing the try out was just perk, as far as I was concerned.

"Great job out there, Maxwell," Horner clapped me on the shoulder, "I told you that if you would just apply yourself, you could get on the team no problem."

I just nodded absently at him, not having the heart to tell him that I hadn't really done this to get onto the team and was still kind of on the fence about it. I walked over the bleachers as the second group started their run and sat down next to Heero.

"That was amazing," he gushed and I was glad that my face was already red from exertion or my blush would have been epic, "I had no idea that you could run that fast!"

"I don't usually," I murmured, "I just got a bit into it."

He dug a water bottle out of his bag and handed it to me. I all too happily drank half of it in one gulp.

"Thanks," I gasped out and wiped my lips, "and thanks for the sneakers, too."

I took his sneakers off and gave them back to him.

"Zechs took yours?" he asked.

"Relena burned them," I corrected.

"Fucking bitch. But you decided to race anyway," he pressed.

"I was committed," I said glibly, not wanting him to know how I had come to that decision, "and it's not like it would have been the only time I've run on pavement. I'm more concerned about how I'm going to replace them."

"We can stop at the mall after this and I'll buy you a pair," Heero offered, "In the meantime, you can wear my gym shoes."

"I-I have some money at home," I mumbled, a bit blown away by his continuous generosity.

"It's fine," he waved me off, "I have a credit card and as long as you don't get hundred dollar shoes, I don't mind. I'm the reason why your sneakers got destroyed anyway, because I convinced you to run against Zechs."

"That was my decision," I argued, "and if it weren't for you, I never would have even tried to do this, so that kind of cancels out losing my shoes. You can't just keep buying things for me-"

"You're going to tell me what I can do with my money?" he quirked an eyebrow at me.

"No," I backpedaled, "but..."

"Then what's the big deal?" he asked, a bit cheekily, "You work hard for your money, you shouldn't have to throw it away because Relena's a cunt to you. Besides, I've seen your sneakers. It's about time you got new ones."

I flushed darkly. He had me there. Both of my pairs of sneakers had been years old, too tight, and falling apart. But sneakers are expensive, so I kept putting off buying new ones.

"Fine," I said in exasperation, "But I think you're an idiot for spending so much money on me."

"I'm ok with that," he grinned, "At least now, if you decide to join track, you'll have some decent sneakers to run in."

I couldn't say anything to that. I still hadn't really decided what I was going to do if... when I got on the team. The second group finished with their race and sat down on the bleachers with the rest of us. After scribbling some things down on his clipboard, Horner walked to the bleachers to address the runners.

"These are the results from your races," he bellowed like he was in a stadium instead of on a flat field, talking to little over two dozen students, "Those with the seven best times have been accepted onto the team. If anyone wishes to drop out of the team, the next best time will be accepted. Now, from fastest to slowest," he began to call out the names.

I don't know why, since I had been watching the second race, but I was still a bit startled when my name was called third. It still wasn't registering, I guess, that I wasn't counted among those that hadn't made the cut. I was too used to it and it still felt incredibly weird, but when Heero gave me a bright smile, I felt my insides be reduced to a pleased mush. The feeling faded when Horner read off Zechs's name in the eighth slot. He hadn't made it.

At first, I felt a chill of foreboding, but that quickly melted away into one closer to triumphant spite. I can't even remember the last time that anyone had told the asshole 'no' and I had to look over at him to see how he was taking the news. I know that's petty, but after five years of abuse from him, I think I'm allowed a bit of pettiness, even if I knew that his anger could only mean pain for me. Sure enough, when I glanced at him, I found him glaring at me in rage, promising death. It wasn't like I had boosted him from his slot, I had been in third, not seventh, but I kind of had. All but one of the boys that had gotten onto the team had been on it before. If I hadn't made the cut, there would have been room for him.

Oddly enough, Zechs's anger didn't terrify me for once. Maybe I was still in shock about how well I had done that I just didn't care about his retribution, or maybe I was confident that I could evade it, or maybe after all this time, I've started to become suicidal, but instead of being scared of him and trying to find a way out, I found myself seriously considering whether or not I wanted to join the team.

If I didn't, Zechs would get back on the team and while he would beat the shit out of me for daring to race against him, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as getting him kicked off. I didn't think that Heero would be too disappointed in me if I didn't join. I had, after all, tried and succeeded and for me, that was a pretty huge deal. I still didn't have the time for an after school activity and I'm not a competitive person. Being on any kind of sports team was not exactly high up on my life of priorities. But the idea of joining the track team was not a wholly bad thought to me. I would have the satisfaction of taking away something that Zechs wanted, but although you would think that that would be my number one reason for wanting to do it, it actually was the least important thing compared to all the others.

Heero had mentioned that I could take time off work for track and the more I thought about it, the more the idea of limiting my work hours appealed to me. I'm not lazy and I knew why I needed those hours. I had meant it when I had told Heero that working long hours wasn't a big deal to me, but it had also been kind of a lie. Becoming friends with Heero had shown me a few hard truths that I had been trying to deny. For one, I realized the toll that working two jobs was putting on me. For the longest time, all I had had in my life was work, school, and going home to utter shit. Repeat, repeat, repeat. There had been nothing else.

And until now, that had suited me. I had needed to work two to three jobs to save money, but also because I had needed something to do to keep my mind off of things. I had nothing to do, no one to talk to, nowhere to be, so why not throw myself into work? It was better than being home and staring at the walls or listening to my parents fight. But now... I had Heero. I had a friend that I wanted to be with. For the first time in my life, I didn't want to spend all of my time busting my ass.

For the first time, even though it made me feel guilty as all hell, I wanted to just be a teenager and slack off a bit. I wanted to focus on my homework and be able to spend a day with my friend, instead of having to rush off to work. My conscience nagged at me that I had responsibilities, but was taking one or two days off from work really such a terrible thing? My father would think that it was, but I could make sure that he never found out about it, and in that moment, I didn't feel any desire to do something that he wanted me to do. If I was being honest with myself, he was the reason that I had those jobs and as I sat there next to Heero, I could only feel bitterness for my father. He had raised me to believe that I was worthless beyond helping out the family and there Heero was, trying to pound into my head that that wasn't true.

I wasn't sure who to believe anymore, but I felt angry at my dad for all the things that he had said to me. Maybe it was just misplaced anger for abusing me, but I didn't want his voice in my head anymore, telling me that I was never going to amount to anything. I didn't want that fear that it was true. Maybe it was, I don't know, all I knew was that believing in Heero had pulled me out of the pit of despair that my father had thrown me into. I wanted to be on the track team, I wanted to have something in my life that mattered, even if it was only to me, and I wanted to do something that I enjoyed.

Even if it was fleeting, how could those feelings be wrong? It probably says quite a lot about how pathetic I am that I even needed to overanalyze such a simple decision as 'should I join a team or not'. Any other kid my age would have just shrugged and said 'sure, why not?' It only drove home to me how strange and broken I was, that I felt bad about wanting something, that I actually felt like I didn't deserve it.

"For those seven who have made the team," Coach Horner continued after prattling off the times of those that hadn't made the cut, the number of people on the stands quickly dwindling as those that hadn't made it left dejectedly with their friends, "I will be mailing all of this information to your home addresses, but there is a thirty dollar fee for your uniforms that is to be paid by March 1st, which is also the date of our first practice as a team. The sooner I get this money, the more time we will have to fix any sizing issues. I know that this is a long way away, but the purpose of having early try outs is for all of you to practice on your own. I expect all of you to improve on these times by Spring. Our practices will be held every Tuesday from 2:30 to 3:30 and once the race season starts in April, you will be looking at a meet every Saturday for two months. If any of your parents would like to offer their cars for carpooling to these meets, volunteers are greatly appreciated."

His grand speech done, people abandoned the bleachers, eager to get out of there, and congratulating those that had done well. I got down off the bleachers carefully so I wouldn't accidentally cut my feet on aged metal. Wouldn't that have been a wonderful end to that kind of weird day?

"What are you going to do?" Heero asked me.

"Well," I rubbed at the back of my head, "I guess I have plenty of time to scrounge up thirty dollars."

"That's great," his smile widened into an exuberant grin, "You decide that it's worth it to finally put Zechs in his place?" he asked slyly.

I couldn't help but smile a little at that. It was ironic, being friends with Heero made me feel like I could almost have the courage to stand up to that asshole. In the past, hurting him and Relena had been all that I could think of, the desire to make them feel everything that they had made me feel. But ever since I had become friends with Heero, I discovered that I didn't care about that so much anymore.

"Actually, it had nothing to do with him," I confessed, "I just... wanted to do it."

"I'm glad," his smile lost some of it's energy and became something softer and calmer, "If you need the money-"

"Don't even!" I interrupted him, "You might be ok with throwing money away, but it makes me uncomfortable. I can come up with it on my own."

"If that's what you want," he said simply, completely unapologetic, "but I'm still buying your shoes today, whether you'd like me to or not."

I huffed about that, but I knew that he was right. I didn't like him spending money on me, I hadn't even liked it when Quatre had done it with my penny pinching nature, but it wasn't like I could forbid him from doing it.

"At least you have awhile to decide what you're going to do about work," he pointed out as we started to walk back towards the school.

"Well... I've been thinking lately about what you and your dad said, about me overworking myself... and I guess you're right, I do need to take some time off once in awhile. But you need to understand, I've been working like this for a long time and I've always thought that it was what I needed to do, to help out my parents and be dutiful and everything, so it's not exactly easy for me to make that kind of decision, even if I do think that you're right," I explained.

"How long have you been working?" Heero asked me.

"My dad got me my first jobs when I was twelve, although those were just washing dishes and cleaning tables," I told him.

"That's-" he started to say in alarm.

"I know, I know," I interrupted him, "Illegal. Your father already lectured me about being under-aged for the jobs that I'm doing now."

"Actually, while that's true and I think it sucks that you had to work at that age," he said vehemently, "I was going to say that it's cruel to put someone who isn't even a teenager through that kind of stress... to give them that kind of responsibility. But I think that's even more of a reason for you to take it easy. You've been working for your family's sake for four years of your life and you aren't even a legal adult yet. Maybe it's what you're used to, but that isn't ok! You shouldn't be responsible for your parents' inability to support themselves."

How could I possibly explain to him my guilt, feeling responsible for that inability, all because they had decided to keep me when they had been only a little older than I am now? That if they hadn't had a kid, they wouldn't be poor and struggling to pay bills? But that didn't make him any less right, either.

"I know," I confessed, "but that doesn't make it any easier for me to stop doing something that I've been doing for that long. But you're right, so..." I took a deep breath, trying to loosen the knot in my stomach, "so I think I'm going to ask for some time off, starting next week, even though track hasn't started yet. I was thinking of taking my first shift on Tuesdays and my single shift on Saturdays off. And... and maybe we could hang out on Saturdays?" I asked shyly.

"I would really like that," Heero smiled, "and I think it's a good idea. It won't kill you to relax a little."

I almost quipped at him 'relaxation? What's that?' but I was worried that he might realize that I wasn't entirely joking. I followed him back into the gym's locker room to grab his shoes and we took the bus to the mall after he texted his father that we were going to be later coming home than he had thought. Sneaker shopping with Heero actually wasn't bad once I got over the fact that he was going to be paying for it. It still dug at me, both my pride and my guilt, but I was starting to get used to him doing whatever he wanted.

The mall normally would not have been that crowded on a week day, but the holidays were in full swing and the place was packed with panicked, last minute shoppers. It made me feel incredibly glad that I didn't need to bother with that shit. Thankfully, I'm not picky about the clothes that I wear and I'm even less picky about my sneakers, so I just picked out some that had the least offensive colors and were comfortable. I tried to go for some of the bargain and clearance pairs, but Heero glared at me, forced me to sit down in one of the chairs, and started to bring up shoes to me, so I wouldn't know how much they cost.

It was annoying at first, making me feel like I was being coddled like a child, but I have to admit that the two pairs of sneakers that I walked out of the store with were a lot nicer and more comfortable than what I would have picked if I had been more budget conscious. Heero even refused to let me know how much they cost, the asshole, and I say that with a great deal of affection.

"Do you know what you're going to be working around Christmas?" my friend asked me as we walked towards his house after finally escaping from the masses, "You aren't going to be doing any shifts on the day, are you?"

"Actually, no," I confessed, "Back when I used to work at a diner and a restaurant, I had to because a lot of the full timers had to take off, but the two jobs that I have now are taking off for Christmas and the day after. I have my regular shift on the 23rd, and a day shift on the 24th. Then it's back to my regular schedule on the 27th."

"In that case, my parents and I have been talking about asking you over for Christmas dinner. I mean, not actually a Christmas dinner, since we're going over to my grandparents' place that day, but kind of like one, just not on the day," Heero rambled, "That is, only if you would want to. You said that your family doesn't really do stuff like that, so I thought it might be nice, unless you think it's stupid-"

"It sounds nice," I put him out of his misery, finding his blushing and stammered words both endearing and worrisome, "I can come over this Sunday for dinner, and I'll bring a dish, too, maybe a dessert or something."

"Great!" was all that he managed to say, still looking embarrassed by his verbal fumble.

The rest of the night was very... nice. Heero and I did more studying and, even more miraculous than my making the track team, I actually felt confident that I wasn't going to fail my math final. Heero's dad even gave me some pointers and a little pep talk about just doing my best. We ate a home cooked meal of pot roast with various vegetables and an apple cake for dessert while we talked about my try outs, the upcoming holiday, and Sunday dinner. Heero's parents offered to take me with them to his grandparents again, but I declined like last time. I was starting to feel more used to them and their kindness towards me, but that was a bit too much for me to deal with.

Heero walked me home, as usual, and I felt in incredibly high spirits for me. I had had a great day, more or less, even with the whole shoe stealing incident and the knowledge that Zechs was going to kill me the following day, but that wasn't anything too different. I promised Heero that I would hang out with him for a little bit the next day and went inside of my home. I felt like some wayward child, bouncing between two homes. It was kind of frightening how, the more time that I spent at Heero's house, the less welcoming my own house felt to me.

I felt like there was a whole other side of me that was drifting away from the rest of me, like I was becoming this entirely different person. Only I think that I'm starting to like this other person. He has friends, people that care about him, and can accomplish things that I had never dreamed possible for myself. This other person was better than I was, clearly, even if it was only by a matter of degrees. I wanted to become him, completely and forever, but at the end of the day, no matter how much I had enjoyed my time with Heero and his family, I was only reminded of who I really am.

Walking into my house that night, I felt... disassociated with everything else that had happened that day. The happiness that I had felt buried itself into my memories, just out of reach, as the familiarity of my surroundings brought out that bleak depression that had been living in for the last three years. Our rusted sink, the kitchen chair with half of one leg missing, the cheap plates sitting on the aged drying rack, the smell of beer and the disgusting smell of dirty water that no one had bothered to drain out of the sink since that morning were like bad memories, and it was like coming home. I felt split in half between myself, between my happiness and all of the dark things that lived in my head.

I like to think that the person that I am when I'm with Heero is a better me, but when I'm at home again, all I can think is that that person is a lie, just someone that I am pretending to be so that my best friend will never see more than mere glimpses of the real 'me'.
*****

I would like to say that my good luck or fortune or whatever from Tuesday had carried over into Wednesday, and I suppose that a little bit of it had, but, well... I guess the jury is still out about whether I can count it as somewhat good or not as bad as it could have been. It was a pretty normal day up until our math final started. Heero and I made a dedicated effort to stay as far away from Zechs and his friends as physically possible. That sounds a whole lot easier than it ended up being. Staying out of Zechs's way on a normal day is taxing enough, considering that we have a couple of classes together, but staying hidden when he was actually on the hunt for me? If Heero hadn't been watching my back the entire day, I never would have made it through the day without some major injury. I almost felt bad that my friend had to become my bodyguard, but I just reminded myself that it was all his fault that I had ever decided to do something to piss our bully off in the first place.

The both of us arrived later than we would have to school that morning and made sure to shadow our teachers. I knew that that would only work for so long. I was dreading lunch and gym, the two periods when we would be the most vulnerable. The studio was a possibility for lunch, but gym was a loss. Heero looking out for me when I was showering wasn't going to help, but unless I skipped gym every single day for the rest of my life, I couldn't think of any way to fully protect myself.

Well, I would have been dreading those periods anyway, but I was too busy dreading my math final. I wasn't the nervous wreck that I would have been if Heero hadn't helped me study for it, but I was still worried. A person can only have so many nightmares about horrible disasters happening while taking a test before they start to bleed into reality. It's funny, my fears of the test and my fears of Zechs were separate at that point in my day. It had never occurred to me that both problems would find a way to mesh. That was probably because, even though Zechs was in the same math class that I was, his seat was so far away from mine that I hadn't thought that he wouldn't be a problem.

What, or rather who, I didn't take into account was Dorothy. I probably should have, given her sadistic streak and the fact that, while she might not be Zechs's friend, Relena had it just as much out for me as her brother did. I was just too worried about the final and I had assumed that everyone else would be, too. When Mrs. Harkins handed out our tests, I just fell into this zone of concentration where nothing else in the world mattered but the paper on my desk. I got about ten questions in when I heard a strange noise behind me. You know when you're concentrating on something and some little thing happens, something out of place? You notice it, but not enough to actually stop what you're doing and think about it. That noise was like that. It was out of place and if I hadn't been preoccupied, I would have worried about it, but it was irrelevant to me at that point.

It was the smell that followed the sound that grabbed my attention. Cigarette smoke doesn't really belong in a classroom, but more than that, the smell of tobacco smoke has always made me immediately think of Pat. It didn't take me very long at all to realize that the smell was coming from directly behind me, that Dorothy had lit up one of her cigarettes. I knew that she smoked, but not as much as Zechs did, and she wasn't the sort of delinquent that would try to smoke in class. But the only thing worse than Mrs. Harkins' hearing was her sense of smell, which was pretty much gone. It wouldn't be the first time that someone in our class had gotten away with smoking.

I ignored it at first. What did I care if Dorothy wanted to smoke in class? I just hoped that she wouldn't set off the smoke detector. That's when I felt it. A searing heat at the back of my neck, and then a steady pressure, followed by terrible pain. I flinched and had to keep myself from turning in my seat to see what Dorothy was doing. Mrs. Harkins' hearing and smell might be shit, but there was nothing wrong with her vision and if she saw me looking back, she would accuse me of cheating. There was no way in hell the bitch was going to get me an incomplete on that final.

I knew exactly what she was doing. I've been burned before, by various things, and that wasn't the first time that someone had burned me with a cigarette before. Pat had done it as a joke once on the back of my arm when he had been drunk and my father had left the living room to use the bathroom. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth as Dorothy stubbornly refused to take her cigarette off of the back of my neck for several seconds, but I was used to pain. I could endure it. I just as stubbornly returned to my test, hoping that she would stop when she didn't get any kind of reaction from me.

She didn't. For fifteen minutes that felt like a fucking hour, she repeatedly pressed her lit cigarette to the back of my neck, anywhere the she could reach that wasn't covered by my hair or my shirt. Thankfully, I was wearing a long sleeved shirt, so she couldn't get at my arms, but what she was doing was painful enough. The more that I ignored her, the more she went at me with that damned thing. After the first five minutes, I had bit my tongue bloody trying not to make a noise, and after the first ten, my hands began to shake. After fifteen, when she finally fucking stopped, my eyes were watering so badly that I was having trouble reading my test.

People say that burns are the most painful injury that you can get. What they don't tell you is that the worst part isn't the pain. Sure, the pain is bad and it lingers like a bad smell long after the injury happens, but that isn't what gets to you. It's the feeling of your flesh being seared away and the smell of it, of burning skin and hair. When you realize that that smell is coming from you, it messes with you. My stomach churned at that smell, my memories gleefully reminding me of all the times that I had smelled that before, and made it hard for me to concentrate.

Even when she finally relented, I felt the burning pains from the wounds that she had made. If I wasn't already so used to dealing with injuries and managing pain, it might have distracted me too much, but I spitefully refused to let her bullying affect me, not after all of the studying that I had done and all the hard work that Heero and I had put into trying to get me a passing grade. I worked through it just like I did a broken arm or a concussion and felt incredibly relieved when Dorothy got up to pass her test in. As she walked past me again to grab her things, I caught her superior look and had to fight not to glare at her. I was sure that later, she was going to gloat to Relena how she had gotten me good.

I was able to concentrate a lot better with her gone, thankfully, since it was taking every ounce of my attention just to make it through the test. I managed to finish it before the period ended, something that never happened to me, and decided to take that as a good sign. Heero was waiting for me out by the lockers, having been one of the first ones to finish.

"How was it?" he asked me as we walked to the cafeteria together.

"Not as terrible as I thought it was going to be," I admitted, "There were a few questions that stumped me, but I don't think that I failed at any rate."

Heero snorted.

"You could set your sights a bit higher than 'at least I didn't fail.' After all the work you put into your studying, I think you could at least hope for a C or B," he said dryly.

"Yeah, well, with grades like mine, I'm not holding my breath. But it would be nice not to have to worry about taking Calculus 1 over again," I, unthinkingly, rubbed at the back of my head sheepishly.

Stinging pain shot through my skin as my fingers accidentally brushed against my burns and hissed, withdrawing my hand quickly.

"What's wrong?" Heero asked in alarm.

I ignored him for a moment and gently probed the wounds. My skin felt horribly hot there and I easily counted at least four burns.

"I'm going to need to stop at the nurse's office for some burn cream before we get lunch," I told him, changing direction.

I was hoping that he would head off to lunch and not read into what I had said, but I knew that he wouldn't. I would have lied about it and just claimed a headache if he hadn't seen my reaction to the pain. Besides, he was going to see them sooner or later, so what would the point be in lying to him?

"Burn cream? What the hell happened?" he demanded.

"It's nothing," I tried to assure him, "Dorothy just burned me on the back of my neck during the test. I should put something on it so it doesn't get infected, and maybe take something for the pain."

"Duo, wait," he grabbed my wrist to stop me from continuing walking and pulled me back towards him.

I let him do it, patiently waiting as he swept my braid to the side and looked at the damage. I really wished that we could skip this part, the part where he freaked out over something that was not a big deal.

"Oh, god," he hissed in sympathy when he saw the damage, "Fuck, Duo, she... that cunt! She should be locked up! Does it hurt a lot? You should go to the hospital... you need to tell the principal-"

I turned, mostly so he wouldn't have to look at the burns anymore, and put a hand on his arm.

"Heero, it's ok," I tried to calm him, "It isn't anything different than they've done to me before. Yes, it looks nasty and yes, it hurts, but I can treat it myself. My dad's burned me before, so I know how to take care of it-"

The words were out of my mouth before I really took a moment to think about what I was saying. I had just wanted to make him feel better, to get him to understand that it was not a huge problem, that I was used to that kind of pain. Instead, his eyes widened and he looked at me in horror.

"Your dad..." he looked so shell shocked at the implication.

Starting to feel frustrated, I rolled up my left sleeve and showed him a burn scar on the underside of my arm. It was long and ugly looking, but it had looked a hell of a lot worse than when I had first gotten it. And it had hurt a hell of a lot worse than it had ever looked. Heero took my arm and drew it out, examining the mark.

"Your dad did this?" he whispered in shock, his eyes completely fixed on every inch of the rough looking skin.

I had shown him the mark to make him feel better, not worse, to make him see that it wasn't so bad.

"It was just an accident," I said defensively, remembering that day a little bit too vividly, "He was stressed because of work and he had been drinking. I had washed the kitchen floor earlier and had missed a spot that was still wet when he got home. He slipped on it and got mad. I was making dinner at the time and I had the stove on. When he gets drunk, he just... he forgets himself, you know? He grabbed my arm and pushed it down on the stove. He didn't know that it was hot, and he didn't realize it until... until later," my voice trailed off, unable to continue any further.

I pulled my arm out of Heero's hands and kept walking, rubbing at the scar. It was such a pretty story. Yes, my father had just not realized that I had been cooking food on the stove. Yes, he had been very drunk at the time and had let his anger control him. Only I had left out the part where he had punched me a couple of times and left me there on the kitchen floor, sobbing in pain, or the part where I had dragged myself to the hospital at ten years old, in such horrible agony that I had believed that I was going to lose my arm. And I left out the part where I wondered, even after all those years, if my father had truly not known that the stove had been hot. I wondered if it had really been an accident, or if he had known, and he had done it deliberately. I had told Heero that he hadn't because it's what I like to believe, because the alternative is just too painful.

"Christ, Duo. I'm sorry," Heero apologized when I finally stopped right outside the nurse's office.

I wasn't quite sure if he was saying sorry for pushing me or for what my father had done to me, but I had the feeling that it was the latter.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I murmured, scolding myself internally for ever bringing any of it up, "Like I said, it was an accident, that's all."

I knew right away that he didn't believe that, but he didn't understand. He didn't know anything about my father, so how could he possibly understand?

"Does you father get drunk like that a lot?" he asked softly, his tone somehow comforting.

I shrugged at first, really not wanting to talk about my father's drinking habits with the boy that I loved, and whose opinion of me meant the world to me. I couldn't stand the thought of him looking down on me for how my parents acted. If I told him the truth, would he be ashamed to be my friend? Would he even think that I was like that, too?

"He..." I started, trying to find a way to both not lie and to soften the truth at the same time, "My parents haven't had the greatest lives. They both work hard and have nothing to show for it. So yeah, they drink... probably more than they should. Hell, pretty much all the parents from my side of town drink! It doesn't mean anything."

I almost cringed at how defensive and bitter I sounded.

"They're alcoholics," he summed up easily and neatly, in a way that I never could have.

It was a fact, and I knew that. I had known it for most of my life. So why was it so hard to say out loud? Why was it so hard to cop to the fact that my parents were heavy drinkers that couldn't control themselves?

"So what if they are?!" I snapped at him, feeling angry, but not at him, and then quickly looked down at my feet, "Lots of people are, it doesn't make them bad people!"

Why the hell was I defending my parents? After everything that they had done to me, after everything that their drinking problems had taken away, why was I trying to make light of it like that? Maybe I was just trying to defend myself and my guilt, or maybe the truth just hurt too much. Maybe being an alcoholic doesn't make you a bad person, but my parents weren't like Heero's. As much as I couldn't admit to it, my mother and father weren't what anyone would call good people. I loved them, but... but even that felt wrong to do, more and more often lately.

"I'm not judging you," Heero's kind and gentle words had me looking over at him again, "I'm just... sorry that you have to live with that."

Just like that, all those prickly feelings in my gut went away and I started to feel like an ass for snapping at him again. It wasn't Heero's fault that my family was broken.

"No, I'm sorry," I rubbed tiredly at my face, "I didn't want you to know about it, but I shouldn't have assumed that you were going to look down on me for it."

But I had. I had thought that about him, just like everyone else, and once again, he had ended up surprising me. I had confessed that my parents had a drinking problem and he still wasn't giving me that look like he suddenly realized that I was scum and was questioning ever getting involved with me. The look that I'm constantly waiting for.

"I wouldn't do that," he assured me, "but if you ever want to talk about it, you know where I am."

"Thank you, Heero," I smiled at him.

I felt this incredible warmth fill me at his offer and it completely washed away everything else inside of me. My insecurities were just that, I realized. He didn't look down on me because of my parents, and I should have known that he wasn't the sort of person that would do that to me, but it was so deeply ingrained in me, that my living situation was abnormal, that people thought that I was delinquent because of where I lived... And while that was true, and Relena and her lot had certainly bullied me enough times about it, the person that was the most ashamed of my family was... well, me. I say things like 'it's not a big deal' to down play it, and most of the time it isn't, because it's normal to me. But I can't talk to anyone about my parents because when I think about it, I just feel ashamed.

But when I talk to Heero about it, he just has this way of making all those bad feelings vanish for awhile. Just knowing that he can take me at face value and not lump me in with my parents' mistakes makes me feel this incredible relief. He's the most wonderful person in the world and the more time that I spend with him... the more that I fall in love with him, the more I ask myself what I've done to deserve a person like that in my life at all.
End Part 8
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A Stagnation of Love (rewrite)