Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

The Road to Kindness	By : shinigamiinochi Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 7934 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 51
- 52
- 53
The Road to Kindness

Chapter 8

Part 20
Heero wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting when he had asked Dr. Stephenson to stay the night with Duo, but it had been far different from reality. At night the ward was as quiet and still as a tomb. Even on the rural street where they lived, there were always subtle sounds of life, the wind rustling through the magnolia tree that grew in their yard, the hooting of an owl or, lately in the recent summer weather, the high pitched chirps of bats. Sometimes Heero could hear frogs and crickets before he dozed off, cars driving past the house, or the soft sounds of their neighbors taking their dogs out for walks. Tiny sounds that were so insignificant, he had never really thought of them. They weren't loud or bothersome, and he had not cared beyond that. But as insignificant as they were, they were proof of the world outside of his home, evidence of other people, animals, their lives and comings and goings.

Heero had never thought that he might miss those sounds. But here in the ward, the quiet was deafening. There were no sounds of life beyond the light footsteps of an orderly or the shuffling of the patients that were allowed out of their rooms this late. There was no screaming or crying, or even the muted sounds of talking. He started to wonder how Duo could stand it before he remembered that his friend was always sedated at night. That was probably a good thing. The orb was the only thing beyond the moonlight coming from the window that lit up the room. Heero desperately hoped that the familiarity of that glow had been as comforting to Duo in his time here as it was to himself right now. Without it, he couldn't imagine his friend sleeping very well if he wasn't sedated. Although, even with it and without the drugs, he probably wouldn't be sleeping at all anyway.

As much as Heero yearned to speak to his best friend and hated that he had to be put to sleep like this, the drugs were a kind of blessing. He could watch him, truly watch and look at him, and move around and hold his hand without ever worrying about disturbing his sleep. Watching Duo fall asleep under their influence was like watching someone turn off a light with a dimmer switch. The longhaired boy just kind of... petered out and didn't so much as twitch or make a sound. It was both terrible and a relief. Some sleep, even if it was a drugged sleep, was better than Duo tossing and turning for most of the night.

Heero didn't know what was worse; being at home, so far away from the boy he loved, feeling his absence like a stake in his heart, not knowing what was happening to him, how he was doing or feeling, or being here with him. He couldn't even begin to understand what Duo felt like, being locked up here. He only saw him one time a day, and he really didn't know what it felt like to be trapped in a place, not because someone was keeping him there like in Boston, but because of his own problems. He wasn't sure, if their roles were reversed, Heero wouldn't be bitter towards his mother and friends for leaving him here. The amount of patience and understanding Duo had continued to amaze him.

Lying still and bound on the bed, his best friend looked so fragile, and so small. His arms looked the skinniest they had been since they had first taken him in, a testament to his time in Wes' care, even if it hadn't been as long this time. With the worst of the infections gone, and three meals a day, Duo wasn't losing any more weight, but he wasn't gaining any of it back, either. His skin was almost as pale as the bandages wrapped around his arms and although they were hidden away, Heero could still see those cuts, the red slashes on white skin, deep and terrible.

Heero was suddenly struck with an incredible, emotional agony. It felt like Duo was fading away from him, vanishing and slipping through his very fingers. No matter what Heero did or said, no matter how much he fought, more and more pieces of the boy he loved seemed to erode away from the demons of his childhood, demons that never went away. Wes had been right. In reality, Heero couldn't protect Duo.

Tears streamed down his cheeks and he placed his hand on top of Duo's, just lightly at first, but when the American didn't respond to his touch, he curled his larger hand around the slender one, grasping it lightly. He felt so helpless, like he had back in Boston. Duo was in pain and needed help, but he couldn't figure out a way to make things better. He couldn't even promise Duo that he would make sure Wes wouldn't hurt him anymore. That bastard kept rubbing his face in just what little power he had, that for all his efforts, in a lot of ways he was even more of a child than Duo. Even if they got past this and the chestnut haired boy spoke again and stopped hurting himself, how long would it be, how long of a respite would his friend have before it was all stolen away from them again?

If he couldn't save Duo from Wes, how could he possibly save him from himself? Heero sobbed into his other hand. He wanted Duo to come home, he wanted his family back. He hated coming here, wondering if Duo was going to be sad that day, or try to pretend everything was ok. Duo was his friend, he was supposed to be helping him come back from this, but he had no idea how to fix this! He didn't even know what was wrong.

But what scared him the most was remembering all the things Duo had told him about his past, all of those terrible things he had offered up... What could be so much worse that he refused to talk about it now?
*****
Duo walked over the snow covered ground with no sense of urgency, just a calm that he so seldom felt. He knew where he was going and what was waiting for him just like he knew that this was a dream. Snow fell gently from a black sky, covering the ground with a powdery carpet that should have hurt his bare feet, but he didn't even feel the cold. There were no lights in the dark night, but he could somehow see in the perfect clarity. This wasn't any alley or street that he recognized, just a vast space of blackness and snow, but it didn't frighten him.

Yuki was there ahead of him, gracefully kneeling in the snow. He wasn't how he had been in the other dream, his friend looked like he had when he had been in life, his skin pale but not bloodless, wearing a pale grey and blue kimono, his long hair falling over one slender shoulder. The snow did not seem to bother him either. He looked as serene and perfect as Duo imagined angels were supposed to appear. The Japanese boy looked up at him with a soft expression. He was so less frightening and horrible than he had been in the other dream Duo had had of him, but his presence now scared him. He wondered what terrible thing his subconscious wanted to tell him now. And yet, it felt like all those other times he and Yuki had talked. It was comforting, and it was painful, reminding Duo how much he missed those talks, the lyrical sound of his quiet and patient friend. He also felt a sharp pang of guilt at how his head had painted him in his nightmare.

"I forgive you, Duo," Yuki said with a soft smile, as though he had read his mind and Duo had to remind himself that all of this was just in his head, "You know that I always have and I always will."

"You're dead, Yuki," Duo said morosely, and wondered if he was reminding Yuki of that or himself, "I don't need to be forgiven by you."

"That's right," Yuki said sadly, "I am dead, but you aren't. So why are you obsessing about the dead? You're alive. You can do all the things that Sunshine, Helen, and I can never do again," his brown eyes softened, "Please, Duo, let go of Wes. Stop punishing yourself for the past."

Duo watched in alarm as Yuki disappeared and almost, foolishly, chased after him though he knew that that was impossible.

"He's right you know."

Duo whirled and met Shi's calm, red stare.

"You think that the reason why you can't talk, and the reason why you keep hurting yourself is because you're punishing yourself for killing Wes. But that isn't entirely true. Deep down, you realize that. All of this is because of the guilt you feel for how you've lived your entire life, for letting Wes treat you like an animal, for letting him rape you, for staying with that monster for so long," Shi frowned, seeming oblivious to how his words shook Duo to the core, "You are at the crossroads of letting go of your old life, but you're clinging on to it by refusing to speak and injuring yourself. It's like clinging to a corpse. If you want a life with Heero," his blonde friend told him with a stony voice, "if you want what we can't have, you have to let go of that meaningless guilt. There is no other way."
*****
Duo woke slowly, still partially drugged, with Shi's words ringing in his ears. His head was pounding and his mouth was painfully dry, but he barely noticed either. Even with the sedative, he remembered his dream in perfect clarity, the desperation in Yuki's voice, the feeling of snow under his bare feet that was somehow familiar to him, and Shi's sad, ruby eyes. This dream had been nowhere near as terrible as others he had had. It had been short, almost brusque, as though even his mind was sick of beating around the bush with him.

Even still, he felt shaken. It seemed like he only dreamed of his old friends when his subconscious was trying to tell him something that his conscious mind was either incapable of realizing, or unwilling to acknowledge. Duo wondered why that was, both why he was using his memories of his friend to tell him these things, and why his subconscious was capable of realizing those things when he didn't seem able to. Perhaps it was because whenever he was in real trouble, or needed someone to talk to, he had always sought out Shi and Yuki, Shi for his brutal, sometimes cruel honesty, and Yuki for his patient, unbiased understanding.

Duo had read somewhere once that the human mind would do anything to protect itself. Maybe, in that regard, the two parts of his mind were always at war with each other. The conscious part of him had spent his entire life shoving all manner of disturbing, painful thoughts and memories deep down inside, where they could hurt him just a little bit less. But maybe now his subconscious understood it was time for those terrible things to come to the surface, using his dreams as a medium.

Were Shi and Yuki... was his subconscious right? Was he punishing himself, not just for killing Wes, for becoming a monster, but also because he loathed himself for trying to leave his past behind... for leaving Wes behind? And for his guilt in hurting himself, for willingly staying with the man all those years, letting him corrupt him and drive him into this corner? He had let Wes turn him into an animal, and had almost let him convince him to leave the only real family he had ever known. He hadn't, but it had been a close thing. It had been a close thing, nearly throwing his new life away. And for what? For what?

In that moment, he couldn't remember why he had almost said yes to his abuser, why he had seemed so sure that that might be his best choice. Even though he was crazy, hurting himself and unable to speak, his family was still surrounding him, still caring. When he looked at it objectively, distanced himself from his twisted up feelings, it was simple. When he had seen Name for the first time after five days in that closet, he had felt only joy, happiness, and a love that had driven him to relieved tears. When he had seen Wes after being apart from him for several months, he had felt love, yes. But compared to the tidal wave he had felt for his mother, the love he had felt at the sight of his father had just been a spark, a jolt in the wave of other emotions. Mostly, he had felt hate and fear and pain. All it really boiled down to was which emotion he wanted to not only wake up to every day, but let shape the rest of his life. Love or fear. Joy or hate. His entire childhood had been shaped and molded by fear, and now he was tired. For his adult life... he wanted to see what love would feel like.

And yet, even though he could see that objectively, and logically knew what the best course for him was, when he let all those feelings back in, he wondered if he could have stayed away from Wes if he hadn't killed him. Would he have lived his life in doubt, wondering what might have been, missing his abuser like he missed him now, but tempted to run back to him where he couldn't possibly be now?

'It was self-defense,' he tried to assure himself as a doubt blossomed in his heart, a terrible, suspicious doubt, 'I was just looking for a way to get him off of me, I didn't mean to kill him.'

'You're full of shit,' the voice in his head repeated, 'He was on top you, yes, but he wasn't strangling you anymore. He let go of you. You knew he was going to forgive you, just like he always did. He wasn't going to kill you, and that was worse. An endless cycle. You were defending yourself, but not from a man choking you. Tell yourself that, but don't lie and say you didn't mean it. You knew exactly what you were doing. His knife, the same knife he used on you your entire life. Are you trying to tell yourself that you didn't recognize the feel of its handle, the nicks there, the weight of it? What did you think you were holding, when you had spent so much time looking for a weapon in that closet? You knew, yet you still swung that blade at his throat.'

Revulsion filled Duo's heart and he felt tears track down his cheeks, but he didn't deny a single thing the voice said. He couldn't, because that voice was him, just like Shi and Yuki in his dreams were really him. He might be mentally unstable, but he could admit that now. All those things that voice had said to him, they were only the truths that he knew, even if he was too stubborn and blind to see them on his own.

He had told himself that he had killed Wes in self defense, that he hadn't really meant to, but he had always known deep down that what had happened was not that simple. The Shi in his dream had told him that he had to let go of his guilt. All of his guilt. Not just the guilt over trying to abandon his old life, or his guilt over turning himself into a victim when he should have been looking for a way out. Not even just the guilt of murdering the man that had raised him, but also the guilt he had hidden even from himself. That after all this time, all the years of abuse and terrors, after insisting to all of his friends that he didn't want justice against Wes, did not want any more violence in his life, that he was content to just move on with his life, some part of him had wanted to hurt the man.

That realization was horrible. Duo knew what it was like to be in pain, to be hit and cut and burned, to be violated. He had told himself, over and over and over that he could never do that, be violent towards someone. He could never hate anyone so much to wish that pain on them. But that was a lie. As the years had passed him by, little by little, hate and anger had filled him. Wes' very special brand of poison. He hadn't let himself see it, but that rage had been there, that hurt.

He had felt it locked up in that dark closet. At the same time that he had realized the true extent of the damage his relationship with Wes had done to who he was, his soul and heart and being, that anger and hurt had surged in him. That moment when he had hit him with the tree branch to save Wufei's life had felt good. At the time he had thought it was pride at having finally stood up to his abuser, but now he wasn't so sure. That moment when he had kicked Wes in the throat, however... he couldn't deny the dark joy it had made him feel, to finally be the one to hurt the bastard, to be the one causing the pain. He would never forgive himself for feeling those things, anymore than he would forgive himself for taking a life. But...

'Did I kill him because I wanted revenge for all the things he did to me, or did I kill him to make sure that, no matter what I feel for him, love or hate, I could never ever go back to him?' Duo wondered.

He felt his body shake at his thoughts. Shi had told him exactly what he had needed to hear, not to pick himself up when he had been floundering in the dark, but to kick him in the ass. It was exactly the sort of thing the real Shi would have said to him if he had been here. If he wanted to talk again, if he wanted to be with Heero, he only needed to let go of his guilt, let go of the past and move on.

But how? How could he possibly do that when every second he could see Wes' dead, accusing stare in his head? How could he when he spent whole waking moments wondering what could have been if he had realized what he had in that closet when he had been a child and ran away from Wes? How could he let go when every time he looked in a mirror now, he felt such revulsion, knowing what he had done, what he had felt, and not knowing what would happen if his family found out? They were all he had, how could he put that in jeopardy over the truth? Bad enough they found out he had killed Wes. How would they react if they knew he had killed him because some part of him had wanted him dead, even when he had had the chance to simply injure Wes and walk away?

'You couldn't have. Whether you had killed him or not, knowing what you know now, knowing what you want and what he would have done to you, could you really have walked away from him?'

An image flashed in his head; the kitchen of his house splashed with blood, and Heero, Name, Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei's body sprawled on the floor, bullet wounds in their heads. Their eyes, dead and flat, stared up at him like Wes' had. The image had his stomach reeling and he almost vomited.

'What if you killed him because you knew that no matter what you chose to do, death was the only road? Maybe you realized the truth, that if you escaped that closet like you had planned, it wouldn't be you that he would come after. After all, it's like you said, they're all you have left. What would be standing between him and having you again without them?'

Duo sobbed silently and wished his hands weren't cuffed so he could wipe away his tears. He blinked in confusion as he heard crying in the room, but knew it wasn't his own. Even in the dark Duo could see Heero's form next to his bed. He was hunched over, unable to see that Duo was awake. His shoulders were shaking hard as he cried, his hands clenched in his lap. Watching him cry, when Heero always seemed so sure, so collected, so strong, it was heart breaking.

'It will be ok, Heero. I'm trying, I really am. I don't think I'll ever have the strength to tell you the truth. I'm trying to find it, but even though I know what I want, how I want to live the rest of my life, I'm too scared to tell you the truth. But I'll find a way to stop this, so please, please don't cry,' Duo tried to say but even after his dream, and knowing that what Shi had said was right, no sound came from his throat.

He only felt that tight pain, like there was a brick wall between his voice and his tongue. Frustration stabbed at him. He wanted to go home, and he was starting to understand the real reasons why he had killed his father, so why was he still unable to speak?! What was this... this mental block trying to do? What was the point of punishing himself when he felt the desperate need to shed this horrible guilt he felt, when he ached so much for home? He just wanted to comfort his best friend and he couldn't even do that! He wanted to throw things, to try to force the words to come out of his mouth until his throat was full of blood. He felt so pathetic, and so weak. He didn't even have control over his own body.

"Please, stop hurting yourself," he heard Heero whisper.

Duo's heart quickened, but the Japanese boy was still looking at his hands, his eyes downcast. His voice sounded horrible, all rough and deep, and Duo realized he must have been crying for a very, very long time.

"Whatever happened when that bastard kidnapped you, I don't blame you," his best friend said hoarsely, his voice still full of unshed tears, "I'll never blame you, you have to know that. I'm just so happy you survived."

Heero's shoulders trembled and Duo watched in grief as more tears slide down his cheeks.

"He's still winning," the blue eyed boy whispered, and the frustration and fear in his voice was gut wrenching, "Wes is still winning, still controlling you. But I know what he doesn't, that you're strong enough, more than strong enough to beat this, to survive anything he could think of doing to you!"

He was right, Duo knew. His best friend didn't know that his abuser was dead, but he was as right as he ever was. He was hurting himself, physically and mentally, because he hated what he had done, he hated that, at the end of their relationship, he had become Wes in that moment. He had murdered another human being. He had been able to come to terms with the likelihood that Wes would one day kill him, but he had never really considered that one day he might kill someone himself, let alone Wes. He had done the worst thing he had ever done, and now Duo was sure he had done it in anger.

Maybe that anger had been justified. Duo had matured and grown enough these last few months to understand the true monstrosity of Wes' abuse, and that the man should have been punished for what he had done to him. But although he might, one day, accept that rage, he could never justify what he had done in that closet, could never forgive himself. Some part of himself was punishing himself, that old child that was the ancient remnant of Wes' upbringing, because Wes no longer could.

But he was also punishing himself for it because he was terrified, terrified of a world without his guardian. He had often wished that Wes would just vanish, that he would stop haunting him, but he had always assumed he would be there, a sinister presence. He had never actually thought he would just be gone like this. It was a strange, almost unbelievable feeling. Before he had moved in with Name and Heero, Wes had been the only constant in his life for eight years, more than half his life, the only thing he had ever had any surety about was that Wes would be there, looming over him. So how could he be gone? That face frightened him like the bottom had dropped out of the world.

In their last moments together, Duo had rejected Wes. He had rejected every bit of him, his telling him that he was worthless as anything other than a whore, that he deserved the beatings and rapes, that he was stupid and didn't deserve to be loved, that his only path was with Wes. He had rejected the man out loud and, more importantly in his heart. And he had rejected Wes' sentiments of love, finally acknowledging them as the different gesture of abuse that they were.

But even knowing that, he couldn't stop thinking about it. For the first time in their relationship, Wes had been gentle with him those last five days they had been together, and the dark, twisted part of himself that was still that child from so long ago had wanted to believe in him because he hadn't wanted to let Wes go. He hadn't wanted to choose between his past and his future, even though the mature part himself that had been born from care and love and self-understanding had known that his father's words had just been pretty delusions.

Duo knew, especially after the dream he had just had and looking at Heero now, that he was punishing himself because that child inside of his head that was still a product of war, beaten and loyal to Wes, hated him for destroying the only link between his present and his past left. He had lost Sister Helen and her cross, Sunshine and Yuki, and did not know if he would ever see Solo and the others again. Wes was all that child had had. This self-mutilation and muteness wasn't just about the murder. It was about telling Wes no. It was about finally making the decision to move on, to break the cycle of abuse, both the abuse Wes had put him through and the abuse he had put himself through. He even thought that it was possible this would have happened even if he hadn't stabbed Wes. Maybe it wouldn't have happened as dramatically and suddenly, but when he turned his back to Wes and his past, without realizing what that really meant, he had insured this would happen.

He felt like when he plunged that knife into Wes' throat, he hadn't just killed the Boogieman, but also that child inside of him, and he was terrified of what that meant. He felt lost, so very lost. Who was he? He suddenly didn't know. His childhood had been forged in blood and nightmares. What was still real for him, what parts were really him and what parts had he discarded with the choice he had made?

Duo looked at Heero in the dark. Seeing him there, those familiar blue eyes and tussled hair, he felt such an intense clarity, his doubts about killing Wes and moving on away from his past made of nothing more than mist and vapor. Had they ever been made of anything solid, or had he let smoke fill the holes in his heart, guilt and fear just a substitute for Wes' darkness?

Wes had been delusional, he realized. Duo had struggled to decide between the love that Wes claimed to have for him, and Name's love. How could he have been so stupid? Name and Heero had promised him the world. They had promised him love and safety, a chance at something better. Wes had promised him those same things, but how could he have loved him while he had been promising him those kind things, he had only hurt him? If Name and Heero's love had ever hurt him, it had only been a good hurt. The kind of hurt that came with growing up.

Only Heero and Name had ever kept their promises to him. Wes had lied, to Duo and to himself in ever thinking he could give him what Name and Heero had already proven they could. Heero had told him over and over that the abuse hadn't been any of his fault, that he deserved better than that. He had tried so hard to believe that, but in mutilating himself, he was just continuing Wes' abuse. He was falling into the same patterns that he had lived in for eight years, because it was safe and normal to him.

He couldn't lie to himself and say he was doing this to punish himself. Some part of him was trying to, but where was the justice in this? How was he really punishing himself? There should be consequences for what he had done, he knew that, but he had struggled so much and come so far. How could he just give up and allow his self-abuse to continue to distance him from the reasons why he had felt pushed to lash out at Wes in the first place? He wasn't punishing himself for his actions, he was just causing himself pointless pain, and worse, he was hurting Heero.

Heero had been by his side all these months, even when things had gotten truly horrible and most other people would have given up on him. Heero hadn't. He had dragged him through the muck and his friend was still trying to save him from the abuse. Heero didn't deserve his pain. No matter what his own reasons were for the mutilation, Duo couldn't bare hurting him and scaring him like this.

'I don't deserve this,' Duo told himself, as though he were talking to that subconscious part of himself that had been cutting and stabbing him in his sleep, 'I don't deserve this pain and isolation.'

Pain from years of verbal and emotional abuse and Wes' training ripped through his head. He heard a thousand voices screaming at him that he was wrong. He deserved the muteness. He deserved the cuts on his arms. He was trash, a whore, a murderer, he did not deserve this new start, he should be punished. But amidst all of them, Duo heard Heero's soft voice the loudest.

'You're my best friend... You deserve the best... I will never leave you...'

'I am not a bad person,' Duo told himself, his best friend's voice like a shield around his heart, 'Wes was wrong. I'm smart and kind, that's what Heero always says. I love my family. I don't want to hurt anyone, I just want to live my life. I've done terrible things, but that doesn't mean I deserve to be hurt. I let rage and hate control me, and I took a life. I should be held responsible for that. But not like this. If I am to be judged and held responsible, than how I'm punished is not up to me. I can't hurt my family anymore, I can't hurt myself. I've been doing that my entire life and it's only brought me here. I have to stop running away. I can't let go of my guilt like Shi told me to, I can never forgive myself, but I won't let Wes control me anymore. He can't hurt me, never again. It's time to go home.'

Duo felt more tears track down his face at Heero's own continued tears.

'I've been a shitty friend,' he thought, scared to try and talk, 'You've always been there when I've needed you, you promised me you would never give up on me, but I've always been too scared to promise anything to you.'

"I won't leave you."

Heero's head shot up, his ocean eyes wide with shock as he heard the familiar voice echo in the deathly still room. The same voice he would have given up his right arm to hear again. He stared at his best friend, fearing that it had all been in his head, his desperate heart playing tricks on him. Duo looked terrible, somehow worse than when he had been knocked out. Heero hadn't thought it possible that the longhaired boy could get any paler, but he had, like a corpse in the dark room. His best friend looked the way he did when he woke up from a particularly bad dream, disturbed and shaken. His white cheeks were as wet with tears as Heero's were, but his violet eyes were bright and vibrant.

"I'll never leave you, Heero," Duo's voice was rough from not having used it in weeks and from crying, but there was strength and resolve in it, "I promise, I'll always be here."

Heero felt a sob of relief and love force it's way out of his throat, but he refused to acknowledge it, even as his heart beat out its excitement at hearing Duo's voice and his promise. He knew without his friend having to say another word that he meant more than what he was literally saying. Duo was never going to run away from him again... in all of the ways that meant.

"Duo," Heero realized that the both of them were silently crying again.

There were a thousand things he wanted to say and ask. Why did he look so upset? Why was he talking again? Was he ok? But none of those things seemed important in that moment. Duo was talking. He wasn't even forcing the words out or in pain, but actually talking. What more could he ask for? Dr. Stephenson had told them his muteness and self-mutilation were linked, so didn't this mean they could finally take him home, where he belonged? Finding out why he had been unable to talk didn't matter anymore.

'Of course it does,' he knew, but he was too scared that asking that question might make him stop talking again. And he was far too scared of the answer. Instead of saying what was on the tip of his tongue, Heero simply placed his hand over Duo's bound one. As pale as he was, his skin was blessedly warm.

"Are you all right?" Heero finally found his voice, which sounded almost as bad as Duo's did.

It sounded like such a stupid question to his ears, even if Duo was speaking again, he knew he wasn't ok. But this was the very first time since his best friend had been abducted that he could ask that question and Duo could actually tell him.

Duo shook his head, so used to non verbal communication by now, and forced himself to stop. He refused to let this become a bad habit even though his fingers were instinctively itching for the tablet and his throat felt like it was on fire. He had fought all this time for his voice back, had yearned to actually speak to Heero, he wouldn't regress to nods and shakes of his head.

"I'm so sorry," he croaked, "Heero... I'm so sorry. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to worry you and hurt you like this. I tried so hard to stop... but I just couldn't. I did something terrible, and I hurt so many people because of it... dragged you down with me, because I was weak-"

Duo took a gasping breath through the rapid jumble of words, his voice strained and not ready for the exercise. Heero had the sudden impulse to pull the other boy into his arms and tell him it was ok, he didn't drag him into anything, he had gone willingly all on his own, but he couldn't with Duo strapped down, and how could he claim that anything was ok when he still didn't know what Duo was talking about? He said that he had done something 'terrible', but what did that mean? Was he blaming himself again for being raped, or was this something new and ultimately much worse?

"Duo, what happened?" he asked, trying to be as patient as he could be, but he couldn't hold back any longer, "When you were with Wes, what did he do?"

Duo shook his head again, looking panicked.

"Please, Heero, I can't tell you," he whispered, his voice so desperate, so full of some kind of pain that Heero couldn't decipher. Whatever it was, it made him feel like an ass just for asking.

"But why? Why can't you tell us?" Heero asked, not insistently, but softly.

'Please at least tell me that much.'

"I'm too scared," Duo admitted and where he had been unable to before with his muteness, Heero heard that fear now. It was thick and palpable, making Heero's heart ache for him. What could he possibly be so frightened of that he wouldn't even tell them what had happened to him?

'Duo... what did you do?'

"You can't keep this bottled up inside," he said gently, "Whatever happened to you, no matter what it is that you think you did that was so awful, we will never hate you for it, you have to believe it. Keeping it a secret will only make it worse."

"I know," Duo said hoarsely, "I promise I'll tell you, soon, but not now. I can't, Heero. I'm so sorry, but that's the best I can promise."

Heero entwined his fingers with Duo's, which seemed to soothe him. The longhaired boy gave Heero's tan fingers a squeeze, the only thing he could do with his wrists strapped down.

"Alright," Heero accepted, knowing that his best friend understood he wasn't going to push him, but was going to trust him to come to him when he was ready, "but no matter what you have to tell me, no matter what it is that you did or think you did, you have never dragged any of us down. We're here... I'm here because we love you. You aren't forcing me to be here. I want to be here, I want to help you. We're hurt because you've been hurt, and for as long as you're here, we'll stay here by your side, hurting with you, even if it takes years. I'll do whatever it takes to get you out of here, for you to heal from this, and I will never give up on you. After all of these months, I thought that had finally started to sink in."

Duo mentally winced at the hurt that was in his best friend's voice, hurt that his doubt, and his inability to trust Heero enough to tell him the truth had put there.

"It had," he rasped mournfully, "but there are some things that I can't even expect you to forgive me for, Heero."

"No," the Japanese boy said with conviction, "there isn't," he squeezed Duo's hand, "I missed you, more than I can ever put to words. Coming home from London, and knowing that you weren't there... not knowing where you were or if you were hurt or dead... nothing you can possibly tell me could hurt as much as that. You're here, you're alive, that's all that matters to me. Anything else, we can work through, I know we can."

Duo felt fresh tears stream down his cheeks. Heero always claimed that he was terrible at getting his feelings across through words, that Duo was the eloquent one, but that wasn't true at all. His words just now had touched something in his heart that had been hiding away ever since he had found himself in Heero's bedroom with his best friend's fingers prying the bloody knife from his hand. Those words, if only for a moment, made him wonder what it was he was so scared of, what he thought Heero would do if he told him that he had killed Wes. Did he really think that this boy, who could open up to him like that, would really throw him away like he was garbage, like everyone else in his entire life until he had met him had done?

For a moment, that scenario seemed so ludicrous to him, even though he knew that the fear was very real. For a moment, a life without Heero, Name, Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei seemed as impossible as a life without Wes had once seemed to him. But then the moment passed him, and he remembered how that latter surety had ended. He saw dead, grey eyes in his head, and knew how little his certainties mattered in reality.

"I missed you, too," he said, his voice deep from emotion this time instead of just the tightness of his throat, "I thought... I thought I was never going to see you again..."

Heero could hear and see a taste of the intense fear Duo had felt when he had been kidnapped in his eyes and voice and felt his own tears start again. He wished more than anything that his friend wasn't strapped down so he could wrap his arms around him and sweep him up in a hug. He suddenly realized just how much he had missed his voice, just how much that tablet and his written words had taken from their relationship. And he hated Wes more than he ever had before, for stealing Duo from them and making him believe, for even just a second, that he would disappear from their lives.

"I promise you, we're going to take you home," he vowed, "You'll never have to feel that way again."

He thought for sure that Duo would deny that, that he would say that there was absolutely nothing they could do to protect him that they hadn't done all the other times Wes had threatened them, but he didn't. The longhaired boy's face scrunched up, he closed his eyes and sobbed quietly in the way that he so often cried, like he was frightened to make any kind of sound. Before, it would have made his heart ache, knowing that no person should cry like that, not with that heartbroken expression on their face, but his cries weren't silent. Heero could hear them, could hear the slight sobs. After all of the silence, all of the tears Duo had shed while he was incapable of making any kind of sound at all, those sobs were as loud as a siren. Whether he was lying to himself to believe him, or if he actually did, those cries were in relief, not angst. Heero pressed his forehead to Duo's, well aware of how similar this was to when he had almost kissed him in the hospital and just not caring.

"We're a family," he soothed, "no matter what, you will always be a part of my family, Duo."

Duo thought his tears would never stop. Tears of joy, tears of relief, tears of love. He wasn't even sure what he was crying about, Heero saying that Duo was his family, that he would never be apart from them again, or that he would never let him go. He just felt this complex turbulence of emotions that drove him to tears. At some level, he felt how weary he was, how much he ached for his home, and wondered how he had finally found his voice. Even after realizing all that he had, and finding the knowledge that punishing himself in this way was hurting more than himself, he hadn't' really thought he would have been able to speak. He felt like he had forced himself through the roadblocks in his head through pure force of will, and it had left drained and exhausted.

Heero lifted his head and saw the almost half lidded look on Duo's face. The younger boy actually looked more tired than Heero felt, even though he had been asleep this entire time.

"Go back to sleep, Duo," he urged, touching his wet cheek lightly, "there's still hours yet, and you need it, especially with all the blood you lost."

Duo shook his head.

"I'm too scared to," he admitted with some hesitance, "What if... what if I wake up and I can't speak again? What if I try to hurt myself again even now?"

Heero smiled down at him, making Duo's heart throb with something heavy.

"That isn't going to happen."

"How can you be so sure?" the violet eyed boy insisted.

"Because I have faith in you," Heero smiled softly, "I don't know why you started talking again, but I know how hard you've fought to find your voice again. I know you won't lose it, and I know how strong you are. You're the strongest, most resilient person I know, Duo. You got through this on your own, without being led, and I know you won't slip back."

In the dark, Duo blushed darkly. Heero's faith in him... it always made him feel such strange, intense things. It scared him, and it made him love him all the more. It made him want to never fail him, to never tarnish that belief, and it gave him confidence in himself. It was because of that faith that he had found the ability to speak, even when so many voices in his head had tried to keep him silent. He didn't know what to do with that faith, or the feelings that no matter how hard he tried, he could never be, or feel like he was, that person that Heero seemed to see and believe in. He wanted to be that person, but he felt this incredible fear that that belief would make him crash and burn one day.

"You're going to untie me, aren't you?" he realized, his sore voice anxious, tired, and scared all at once.

For a minute Heero was startled by his friend's intuition, but he nodded.

"You promised Dr. Stephenson that you wouldn't," Duo pointed out, weakly trying to persuade the other boy how foolish this was.

"I know I did," Heero argued, "but things have changed."

"What exactly has changed?" the longhaired boy said and Heero was momentarily surprised by the frustration and anger in his tone, "I got my voice back, that doesn't mean that I won't-"

"I think it does," the Japanese teenager interrupted, "Dr. Stephenson told us that she believes your muteness and self harm are linked. If you're talking, I think that you won't hurt yourself anymore."

"I know that you believe in me," Duo protested weakly, "but you can't know that for certain. I just cut my arms open, so how can you possibly think that this is a good idea?"

"Because I want you to come home!" Heero snapped, his own voice terribly frustrated now, "But even more than that, I want you to stop being so frightened of your own self, and the only way I can prove to you, and to your doctor, that you are getting better is for you to sleep, unrestrained, without an incident," his tone settled and he forced himself to remain calm and collected, "Look, I don't know what is going to happen if you try to sleep, if getting your voice back really means you won't try to hurt yourself, but this is all I can think of. I don't know if Dr. Stephenson will even dare to try this, but it seems like it's the fastest way to be sure. At the very least, I want you to be able to sleep through the night without being scared of your own shadow and without drugs. If you don't want to try it, then we won't try it, but it's an option," Heero offered.

Duo chewed on his lip. Heero was right. He knew that Heero was right, as he so often was. He was talking again, and he knew that Dr. Stephenson would be excited about that, but it wouldn't be enough to prove to her that he was better. And really, he wasn't positive that he was better. He was still scared that, as soon as he fell asleep, he would try to harm himself again. If he couldn't even trust himself, why would the therapist? He had almost bled to death on her watch, there was no way she was going to just untie him for the night to make sure he was cured. It would be weeks at least before she felt bold enough for that, and he couldn't bare to wait that long. Heero was right, it wasn't just wanting to go home, but also the fear. He didn't want to be afraid just to go to sleep, or need the sedatives anymore.

But he was also terrified of what would happen. This would be the first time since Stark had strapped him down in the hospital, besides his little foray in earlier today, that he would be unbound during his sleep. Every time that happened, he dug a bigger hole for himself. Heero would be watching him, but what if something went wrong? What if he proved that he still wasn't healthy enough to go home, after all the self-awareness he had gained? He didn't think he would survive digging up anymore of these dark truths in his head or looking at what he had done with any more of this intense scrutiny. The last twenty four hours was already enough to make him feel like he was going half insane.

But Heero was the one looking out for him tonight... Heero who trusted him, believed in him. Did he believe in his best friend as much as he believed in him? Did he trust him with his very life?

'Of course you do,' that voice that once had been so dark, and was now so welcome, spoke up, 'So what are you so afraid of?'

"I want to try," he rasped, "I want to go home, more badly than I can tell you," his voice hitched for a moment, but it had nothing to do with how sore it was. The feelings he had had in that damn closet; fear that he would never see his family again, the claustrophobia that was still at the edge of his mind in this place, and his desperate need to go home, even when he had been so conflicted about his future, hit him hard and almost drove him to tears, "I know you'll keep me safe, you won't let me hurt myself, so yes, I want to do this."

Heero's smile returned, brighter than before.

"Alright."

Duo winced as Heero undid the straps around his wrists. His friend was being very gentle about it, but the painkillers and sedatives were long out of his system and he could feel every tiny ache and sting from his wounds now. Just the release of the pressure of the cuffs was both a relief and painful. When his wrists were completely free, he clenched his hands and studied his arms. There were no new spots of blood on the bandages, but his skin still looked white to him, like it didn't belong to him. He could almost imagine that some other person had caused those cuts, but he couldn't afford to believe that. He had done it, he had tried in vain to punish himself, but no more. Nothing was going to undo what he had done.

Cutting himself and stabbing himself was not going to bring Wes back to life, and it wasn't going to nullify the rage and darkness that had driven him to bury that knife in his neck. He wasn't going to hurt himself, he told himself over and over. He wasn't going to let Heero down, and he wasn't going to let himself down. Grey eyes, long dead, haunted his vision, but he concentrated on Heero's blue ones and found a bit of that hatred ebb away.

'He isn't your family anymore and he can't hurt you. You have control. Whatever happens to you from now on, it's in your hands.'

He shuddered a little at that thought, at how wonderful it was and how terrible. This pain was his own fault. If he failed, if he was hurt and pushed down for the rest of his life, it wouldn't be Wes' fault. And if he was happy, if he became stronger, it would also be because of himself. That responsibility terrified him, but not as much as it would have in the past.

That memory of the boy who could barely feed himself, who had eaten rats raw and stolen blankets from children even younger than himself was becoming fainter and fainter in his mind. There was a part of himself that mourned his past, who hated that he was letting go of those darker part of his memories, but mostly he was glad. He would never forget where he had come from, but was it really such a bad thing to forget what real cold and hunger had felt like? He had been used to surviving back then, but not living. He was just starting to learn what that was like. Wes couldn't control every aspect of his life anymore, but did that have to be so frightening? If he failed, if he ever stumbled and fell, it would be his fault, but that didn't mean that he didn't have people, the people who loved him, to help him back up again.

'I don't need him anymore,' Duo told himself, 'I can do this. Even if I tell my family what I did, even if they hate me for it, I can't go back to the way things were and that isn't a bad thing.'

He had to take responsibility for his anger, and he knew that, but right now all he could care about right now was going back home. He would just have to focus on all this other shit in his head when he had his feet under him again.

"Do you need anything?" Heero asked him.

Duo shook his head, curling up on his side like how he liked to sleep. It was strange, he had spent so much time it had seemed laying on his back, his wrists pinned to the bed. He hadn't realized what a relief it would be just to lay down normally again.

"Just... if I start acting weird... if I even move oddly..."

"I know," Heero soothed, "I'll restrain you again, even if I think I can wake you up from it. Go to sleep, Duo."

It was easier said than done. Heero pulled the covers up over his shoulders and Duo closed his eyes, imagining for a moment that it was Name tucking him in like she sometimes did, especially when he was feeling stressed. It helped make him feel less anxious, but his heart still wouldn't settle. He fussed with the covers and the pillow, rolling from side to side to try to get more comfortable, but he felt completely restless. He trusted Heero not to let him actually harm himself in his sleep, that wasn't the nervousness he felt. He was more worried about actually trying to hurt himself. If he did try, if Heero caught him acting weird in his sleep again, Duo didn't know what he would do. He was still too scared to open up to Dr. Stephenson, even about his childhood, let alone the murder. But what else could he do to stop this?

Heero wisely didn't say anything as Duo fidgeted in bed. He couldn't even imagine how scared his friend was to go to sleep. This could either be the thing that would allow him to go home, or it could damn him to more weeks locked away in here. It wouldn't be terrible for Duo to stay here anymore than it had been for him to have been here for the last week, but he was confident now that there was nothing that Dr. Stephenson or the rest of the staff here could do to help the boy he loved. Duo was scared to open up to him. He had promised him that he would, but he was so fragile, for whatever reason, that he seemed to need something in order to do it.

Maybe it was being here, maybe he would get the courage when he was with them again at home, or maybe he just needed more time, but Heero knew that Duo wasn't going to tell his therapist. She was impartial and unbiased, but that didn't seem to be what his friend needed right now. And if the strength that he had found to get his voice back wasn't enough to stop him from mutilating himself, Heero didn't know what would. Duo had to tell someone about what had happened. If he kept hurting himself, that was probably one of the reasons for it. So how could he possibly get better if he refused to do that? He himself was scared about what would happen when Duo fell asleep unrestrained, it must be unbearable for his friend.

After an hour and a half of Duo tossing and turning, Heero worried that he wouldn't be able to sleep without the sedatives after all, but finally his friend stopped fidgeting and his breathing settled. Heero's heart raced and he waited, watching intensely for any sudden movement or quickened breath or muttered words to indicate that the American was sleeping oddly or was having a nightmare. Hours passed. Duo didn't even twitch. He didn't say anything in his sleep or even move much. He rolled over a few times and would make a small noise, but nothing more than he usually did when he slept.

The sun rose and Heero heard an orderly unlock the door, but no one came in. He was so sure that the boy would awake any moment, still too stressed to sleep for very long, but he didn't. He slept as soundly as anyone would. Heero felt tears drip down his cheeks, but for once they were tears of relief. He stayed where he was and watched his friend sleep the best sleep he had since Wes had shot him.
*****
Duo tugged on his shirt nervously as Dr. Stephenson studied him, her eyes piercing. If anyone else had looked at him like that, he would have assumed they were accusing him of something, but the therapist only seemed curious. It only made him feel guiltier.

"Can you at least tell me how you gained your voice back?" she suddenly asked, her voice kind instead of frustrated.

"No," he said firmly, "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you why."

She sighed heavily.

"Duo, you have been under my care for a week and we have never really talked about what happened when you were abducted. Muteness and self-harm do not just vanish, yet here you are speaking again, and Heero tells me you didn't try to hurt yourself last night. There has to be a catalyst for that, something that has helped you. Even if I believe that your more serious problems have alleviated, there are still several issues you aren't addressing, and until you talk about the kidnapping, they aren't going to go away."

"I know that," Duo admitted somberly, "I know that keeping it bottled up inside isn't helping, Heero's told me that enough times. But I also know that I can't talk to you about it."

Her expression turned sad at that.

"Why can't you talk to me about it? I know that it's hard, facing up to what happened to you and admitting it to another person, but there must be something I can do to help you."

"I've struggled with this the entire time I've been here," he confessed, "trying to decide what I should or shouldn't tell you, but now I know that you can't help me. It's not your fault. There are just... some things that I can only figure out myself. What happened last night proved that to me. I'm not comfortable with talking about those things with a stranger, even someone who is supposed to professionally help people like me, and I can't get around that right now."

"Alright," she conceded, "but can you at least promise me that you will tell someone about what happened to you, even if it's one of your friends?"

He nodded.

"I promise I will. I can't hide what happened and I can't stay like this. I might be talking again, and I might not hurt myself again, but I know better than even you do that I'm not alright."

Dr. Stephenson dug a card out of her pocket and gave it to Duo. It was a business card for another therapist.

"Even if you're uncomfortable talking about your childhood and your abduction with me, I want you to consider talking to someone professionally in the future," she gestured to the card, "Dr. Gerard is a very good psychiatrist. She specializes in helping people who have gone through child abuse, post traumatic stress disorder, and sexual abuse. She's local, too, so you can contact her through this hospital if you ever wanted to."

"Thank you, doctor," Duo tucked the card away in his pocket. He wouldn't promise Stephenson that he would ever contact this doctor, but it wouldn't hurt to have that option available in the future, "What happens to me now?"

"Well, you're speaking again, which is a great sign," Stephenson told him, "and while I'm upset that you and your friend decided to pull such a dangerous stunt last night, you don't appear to have done any additional damage to yourself. Since you still refuse counseling, the only thing we have left to do is make sure that your self-abusive trend has ceased."

"You want to keep me here longer," he predicated dejectedly. He should have seen it coming, but he had hoped so hard, ever since Heero had told him how deeply and peacefully he had slept this morning, that he would be able to go home today.

"Only for another day," she assured him, "I want to repeat the results that you had last night, but this time without Heero by your side. I also would like to not allow you any visitors for the day."

"But why?" Duo protested, wanting so badly to talk to his mother and friends.

"Because I need to make sure that last night was not a fluke, that you simply did not try to hurt yourself because your friend was watching over you. I promise you, Duo, if you can prove to me that you won't hurt yourself a more stressful and isolating situation tonight, I will recommend Stark to have you released first thing tomorrow morning. This is your choice, I can't forbid your friends and family from seeing you unless that's what you want, but if you don't agree to it, I will be forced to keep you here longer, to make sure that this pattern continues. And if I think for a moment that it won't, I will be forced to keep you here."

Duo sighed. He had slept so well this morning. Even with all his fears and anxieties, his sleep had been deep and untroubled for the first time in a long time. He was sure that a part of it was how tired he had been, but he hadn't dreamed at all, or at least not that he could remember. He knew that Stephenson was right, he could have just slept that well because he had felt safe with Heero there with him. He didn't want this morning to have been a fluke, but he didn't relish going through the rest of the day in this place, let alone without seeing anyone.

"Fine," he surrendered, "I'll do anything to get out of here."

Stephenson smiled.

"That's good. I certainly don't want to see you here any longer, or have you come back to my care."

"Do I have to go to my therapy sessions today?" he asked.

"Yes, I would like for you to, even if you have nothing to talk to me about. Would you like to say goodbye to Heero before I send him home?"

Duo shook his head.

"Tell him... tell him that it was my decision and I'll see him tomorrow?" he asked, almost meekly.

"Of course," she smiled and left his room.

It was just after noon. That was what Duo hated about this the worst, that he couldn't just get this over with as soon as possible and go home. It shouldn't matter, he had been here a week, so what difference did one more day make? But he didn't know what to do, all he could think about was the possibility that this was his last day here, and the fear that it wasn't. He sighed again and left his room. If he was going to be stuck here for another day, he might as well go through the motions. He felt a momentary guilt over not saying goodbye to Heero, worried that his friend might find that cold or that he didn't want to talk to him. The truth was that he was worried that his friend would be able to talk him out of doing this. He knew that Dr. Stephenson was going to monitor his sleep tonight to make sure that he would be safe, but Heero was so overprotective, he would only think of everything that could go wrong. Either way, he was going to see him tomorrow, good news or bad.

End Part 20
Author's note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story during my absence. I've been incredibly busy lately between work, moving into an apartment, and conventions. This part was 75 percent done for the past month, but I only got the chance to close it up the past two days. Hopefully now that I've moved I'll have more time to work on this and my other stories.
- 51
- 52
- 53
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Road to Kindness