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I roll over in bed for the millionth time that night, sighing as sleep evades me yet again. Not sure what I ever did to piss off Morpheus, but he’s always been determined to keep me from his night time realm. I sigh and stare up at the ceiling listlessly, listening to the wind outside and the smothering silence of my shitty little apartment. Empty. Just like me. Insomnia is a bitch, and when she meets up with her buddies depression and apathy, all sorts of fun things happen. They invite their other buddies loneliness and isolation and just have a fucking ball, all in my head in my own little private party. Lucky me.
I roll over yet again and pick up my phone. There’s plenty of messages from people, chatting about this and that, sometimes- ok, often tagging me to invite my happy and fun ass out with them or to join the conversation. I ignore it for now even though I know they’re sure I’m awake. Classic me, always online, always answering messages at all hours of the day and night. It’s like he never sleeps, they joke, not realizing that they’re right, that I don’t. What I don’t see are messages that matter. Messages from the people who matter.
From the other five.
Not that I can really blame them, you know? There’s only so long you can talk to a brick wall before you have to face the music and give up, going on about your life like a sensible person. Besides, it’s better this way. They’re happier without me dragging them down whenever I have an episode. I rub my eyes as the memories of the last time we’d actually hung out flash across my mind. It had been Quatre’s idea, of course, it always was. Just a day at a theme park to try to get the old adrenaline running, to try to feel the rush like we had in the war, but without the threat of imminent death or capture. Zechs was with us as Heero’s date; never expected them to get together, but keep your enemies closer, eh? Wufei and I were the only single ones and that had led to a bunch of good-hearted teasing throughout the day as we always somehow ended up sitting together on rides, benches, and even the cantinas. It wasn’t hard to figure out then that Wufei was quietly crushing on me but wouldn’t say it. That man is more emotionally constipated than we *ever* imagined Heero to be. It was kind of nice, actually, to know that one of my buddies felt that way.
Not that I could ever let it happen, of course. I teased back as was expected and grinned at the rises I would get out of him, but I was never serious. I couldn’t let him get too close. Any of them, really, but especially for someone who was developing actual feelings for me. People die that way. So I just played along like I always do and the day went pretty well. Great, actually. Even now I smile softly at the memory of the fun we had that day. That euphoria never lasts, though, and the crash seems to get worse every time. At one point in the day, it occurs to me that our fun will end eventually and we’ll go our separate ways again. Quatre and Trowa will go to their place, Heero and Zechs probably to theirs, Wufei would probably try to stay with me but I’d make some lame excuse and dip out on my own back to… loneliness. I’d be alone again with just my thoughts.
I don’t know exactly what happened next but suddenly Quatre’s gasping and the other four are surrounding me carefully, looking both around us to make sure we’re safe and at me. I looked down to see blood dripping from my long sleeve on one arm, running down my thin hand and dripping from my fingertips onto the pavement. The other hand is currently up that sleeve and I am only vaguely aware of the sensation of my sharp nails digging into my flesh and running down it, leaving gouges in their wake. That explains the blood. Great. Quatre immediately steps into the protective circle and gently pulls my arm out, exposing my bloody hand with my own flesh packed under the nails. I try to laugh and say that I was just itchy, but the blond didn’t buy that for a second. My sleeve had come up just enough for him to see the intricate and clearly intentional scars running up and down and around my arm and wrist and he was certainly smart enough to know they weren’t all from the war. The man lived with Trowa, after all, and a group therapy session years ago had brought to light the fact that the Russian self-harmed. He’d gotten help while I hid away, desperately hoping no one would sniff too close to me.
Now? Now I’m fucked. They haul me into a bathroom and lock the door behind us. Adrenaline and fear pump through my veins and I back against the wall, looking like the trapped rat I am. Quatre tries asking me nicely to show him my arm but I refuse, I try to joke with him that I’m fine. Unasked, Trowa rushes me to pin me to the wall while Heero and Zechs strip my shirt off until they can all see just what I’ve done to myself. Sure there are plenty of scars from the war, but the majority are far too recent. It’s been four years since we sent off our Gundams, but so many of my scars are still pink, shiny, and raw. Some have shitty self-applied stitches that are unraveling. No one speaks for an eternity but I can feel their eyes burning my skin better than I ever could have done myself. Panic floods me and I bolt. Sure, Trowa is strong as hell, but fear and desperation are stronger. My fingers fumble at the lock to the door and I just barely manage to get out before they catch me. Someone grabs the end of my braid but I don’t stop despite the severe pain and even losing several hairs. They can have the fucker at this point, so long as I get out. Once out of the bathroom, I book it across the park, heading for the entrance while well aware that I’m being hunted. I duck and double-back to lose them, hiding in groups of people or behind displays. I just need to get to the gate.
It feels like forever, but I find it and make it to my car. Thank whatever god still gave half a shit that I’d driven myself. I peeled out of that lot and drove away. I didn’t return to where I was living at the time, it was too obvious and dangerous. Not like there was anything there I’d miss anyway. Stuff was just that, stuff. Replaceable. Like me. Instead, I drove until I ran out of gas and then started to walk. I didn’t have a goal in mind. Eventually I found a small hick town and settled there. I had enough money from my hacking Alliance and OZ accounts that I could live like a king for ages if I wanted, but I just rented a dinky little studio apartment and shut myself in. I made sure to turn off the GPS on my phone and turn on my own little VPN so they couldn’t find me and proceeded to ignore frantic calls and text messages. I debated blocking their numbers, but I didn’t. I still don’t know why.
It took months for them to start slowing down. One by one, they stopped calling and their messages slowed to weekly, then monthly, then nothing. Only Wufei kept it up. He’ll message me once a week to tell me about what he’s up to. He never mentions the others or trying to find me. If I’m honest with myself, I actually look forward to them. Every Saturday I get that ping and I can’t stop the little wistful smile I get. I never respond, of course. I can’t let them know where I am. Better for them to think I’ve jumped off the planet. More than once I consider applying for work on Mars, but I know full well that Zechs is leading that project and he’d see my name on the list and immediately tell the others. So no, I have to stay in this little podunk shithole alone.
I sigh and cover my face with my hands. More memories flood my mind of the fun we’d all had, the closeness, the trust. And I’d broken it. I always ruin the good things, it’s why I don’t allow anyone to get too close to me. To know the real me. Let them know the joker’s mask, it won’t hurt them like I will. Won’t kill them.
“That’s all you are,” I sigh into my empty room. “A joker an’ killer. What’s left, hm?” I sit up and look at myself. I’m covered in scars, yes, but under that, I can clearly see each rib and my hip bones. My stomach is actually concave. I have no idea what my face looks like because I refuse to own a mirror. My hair is a tangled and knotted mess that’s mostly out of my normal braid but I can’t bring myself to care. My pallid skin is grungy and waxy, and every now and then the sting of a flea bite interrupts my thoughts. Roaches crawl across me as though I’m just part of the furniture. For all I know, they’re in my hair with the fleas.
I stagger to my feet and have to pause with a hand against the wall as vertigo and dizziness overwhelm me. When my sight clears, I shuffle to the bathroom and stand over the sink. I gaze dully at where the mirror used to be before I’d broken it and sigh. What would it be today? More accurately, where would it be? There’s no part of my body that’s not so heavily scarred that I can easily cut any longer. I open the medicine cabinet and look around in there, but there’s nothing to ease the pain. No, I sigh, relief won’t come from here.
Returning to my room, I pick up the same clothes I’d worn when I left the amusement park that day. Somewhere I’d managed to find a shirt, but the pants are the same. I put them on and grab my phone before heading out the door into the night. Walking at night is fine, I’ve learned. No one goes out here, so it’s just me and my thoughts. I walk to the train tracks and follow them for a while as my thoughts tumble and jumble together. When I reach the bridge over the river, things are clearer in my head.
Nothing will be fine. Things can’t go back to how they were. The mask is broken. I’ve done irreparable damage to all of them individually as well as to our group as a whole. I can’t go back, ever. And even if I did, they would never treat me the same way. I wouldn’t be good ol’ Duo, life of the party and the guy you can go to for a laugh no matter how bad you feel. No, I would be Duo, the boy who hurts himself and runs away to make everyone think that he’s dead. Maybe that’s for the better.
I look down into the dark waters below the bridge. My mind is at ease for the first time in a very long time and I even let myself smile a little. I go to move when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Blinking in surprise, I pull it out to be greeted with Wufei’s number. Eh, may as well. I sigh and answer it for the first time in years.
“Ey.”
“Wh- Duo, you answered!” Wufei’s voice is shocked. And since when does he call me Duo and not Maxwell? “Where are you? Are you alright? Tell me-”
“It don’ matter,” I rasp into the phone with a voice no longer used to talking. “Surprised ya called me. It ain’t Saturday.”
“You’ve been getting my messages?” Wufei sounds almost happy now as well as surprised. “That’s good…. Uh… Okay, you said it doesn’t matter where you are, but-”
I cut him off.
“I didn’ answer ta give myself up. I figured you at least deserved it. You know yer the only one who’s tried ta keep in contact with me? The others gave up ages ago. Reckon they moved on. You should, too.”
“No. If you’ve been reading my messages, then you know that I can’t. You know I l-”
“Don’t you fuckin’ say it,” I snap into the receiver and Wufei actually shuts up. “Jus’ don’t. Doin’ that will get ya killed, don’ you know that by now? Ev’ryone close ta me dies. But it’s fine. I found a way ta stop that one an’ fer all.” I dangle a foot off the bridge with a little smile though I don’t let go of the beam I’m gripping.
“Duo…. why did you answer the phone?” Wufei’s voice is cautious. Shit. He knows.
“Like I said, you deserved it. As the only one what been given’ a shit ‘bout me, you deserve ta know. Ta hear me.” My voice is distant to my own ears as my eyes stay on that smooth water below. Through the phone, I can hear Wufei’s apprehension.
“Know what? Hear you what? Duo, please…” I hate the sound of people begging me to stop. I always have. I sigh and shake my head.
“It’s over, Fei. Shinigami’s done. I’m done. An’ this time, I ain’t takin’ no one with me.”
“Duo, no you can’t-! I’ll come get you, I won’t tell where you are- DUO!”
I hear him scream my name in fear and despair as I let go. My unbalanced body pitches forward and I fall into the void. I still hold the phone to my face and I find myself smiling.
“Bye, Fei.”
He screams as I hit the water like a sack of bricks. The phone is ripped away from me and intense pain shocks my body at the impact. I know I’ve got at least a few broken bones now but it doesn’t matter. I sink down into the dark depths, water filling my lungs and stomach as my body automatically fights for its life but I don’t care. I don’t try to swim even though I’m a damn good swimmer. Darkness clouds my vision as oxygen leaves my system. This river is deep and I can vaguely feel its current pulling at me. Where will it take me? Hell? Hopefully not to shore. I close my eyes and smile as I drift away into nothingness. He’d actually called me.