Living the Nightmare
Part Three




The door began shaking violently, wood cracking, slivers flying.

"I won't let you do this Trowa!!!"

The voice barely penetrated the blur within the young man's mind. He sat, legs crossed, staringly blankly at the door. Too much pain........Heero was calling him.....Heero would come crashing in, and save him from himself....

His grip on the razor blade slackened slightly.....

But Heero couldn't save him from himself. Or else he wouldn't be in this wretched state.

With that thought, a pained look spread across his face. There were no more tears for him to cry. Nobody could save him from this horror enveloping his soul.....Not angelic Quatre, not collected Heero......No one! Only himself.....He was the only one he could rely on.....He was the only one he could trust!

He closed his eyes.....steadied himself......

"Trowa!!!!" Heero screamed as the door gave way, flying open.

Heero.......

He stumbled from the impact of the door, falling to his knees. Trowa! His head jerked up, only to see his lover slash at his arm fiercly with a razor. Before the other could do more damage, head bowed, Heero flung his body towards him with all his might.

"NO!" he cried, tears falling from his eyes.

He crashed against the other boy. Trowa became limp beneath him, head lolling foward, resting on Heero's shoulder.

"You will not do this!!!!!!"

Hurriedly he grabbed the boy's arms, pinning them against the bathroom wall.

"If you want to kill yourself you'll have to kill me first!!!" the Japanese boy snarled.

Blood flowed freely from the fresh wound inflicted by Trowa, sliding down both their arms like small, twisting crimson snakes.

"Look at me!!!"

You wear guilt


The clown turned his head to the side slightly, staring at the blood Heero's foot tracked in.

"Look at me!!!!"

Like shackles on your feet


How it had stained the white bathroom rug, how they could never use the broken door again....

He pulled his head up, letting it rest against the wall behind him. Meeting Heero's gaze, a weak smile played on his lips as he raised an eyebrow.

Like a halo in reverse


They kept their eyes locked. Had Trowa finally lost his sanity?

A million thoughts raced through Heero's mind. Who had caused this. How would it end. Who was right. What was the first move going to be.....

I can feel


Keeping his eyes fixed on the two ivy globes, he began to pry open the fist clutching the razor.

The discomfort in your seat


Breathing came in shallow, quick spurts. Who was the villain here?

And in your head it's worse


Trowa let his fingers be separated, one by one. Both bodies tensed. Both were accutely aware of the situation.

There's a pain


It was all some sick game. Like they would devour each other the moment one let his guard down.
Heero smiled lifelessly back at Trowa, ready to face the insane game of trust.

A famine in your heart


Hating to love one another, loving to hate one another, was that how it went?

An aching to be free


Heero's palm caught the razor between their hands, in such a manner that both hands could feel the sharp edge dig in....

Can't you see


Could the resentment of dependence ever flee from the traps they'd set for it?

All love's luxuries


He applied pressure, puncturing both their hands.

Are here for you and me


Neither face twitched, or showed any emotion other than the empty smiles they flashed one another. The boys were retreating back into their usual facades, away from the turmoil of love.


Or were they? Was the tension, the tug of war of who would break first, consuming them whole again? What exactly was going on?

And when our worlds
They fall apart


Heero closed his hand over Trowa's, forming a tight fist. His poor broken doll......What would he have to do to show him...show him how things really were..........All Heero knew was force.....He took a deep breath. Pressing down on Trowa's hand, he let the blade eat into them both, then leaned forward and kissed the other pilot on the forehead. Blood now streamed steadily down all four arms. It gave the appearance of some perverse mimick of fusion, their skin bleeding to join together......

It was a sick game all right.

When the walls come tumbling in


Trowa had closed his eyes at the kiss, and when he opened them, Heero stood before him, looking down.
But no longer did he see a fool desperately infatuated with him, offering love he needed and craved......For some reason, it was different....Symbolism toyed with his head.......What Heero was showing him.......Weary from this fight, weary from keeping his distance, weary from the nightmares, and making Heero as broken as he was...........All he could see now was..........An angel, covered in the liquid of life. Not the angel Quatre had posed to be, the unrealistic light Trowa couldn't handle. A seraph, that despite all the walls of difference they had wished to throw between themselves,

Though we may deserve it


was fighting the same battle he was.....

It will be worth it


Finally he saw what he had been afraid to see.....

Heero extended his arm out, offering his hand. Trowa took it, rose to his feet. A puddle of quickly aging blood was revealed where he had been sitting. Silence, the eternal companion of them both, reigned again. His lover, although not quite sure what would happen after he did, expected to pull away. But his hand was held fast. Heero couldn't help but let a small look of surprise enter his facial expression. Placidly Trowa brought his hand to the sink.

Bring your chains


He pulled the drain stopper up,and twisted the silver handles, taking care to make sure only luke warm water filled the basin.

Gingerly, he began washing the blood from the wound in Heero's hand.
Somehow Wing Zero's pilot hadn't expected this. He was ready for Trowa finish his self-mutilation, to attack Heero, something besides what was happening. He expected Trowa to be near dead from slashing his wrist by now.

His wrist!
Frightened, eyes wide, he searched for the cut on Trowa's wrist. He never found it.

He'd slashed into the side of his arm, three inches above the veins in his wrist......

"Trowa......."

Your lips of tragedy


"Heero.....please," he whispered, eyes staring intently into the sink.

The boy half-closed his green eyes,working the water into Heero's wound in an almost passionate manner, gently rubbing his thumb over the wounded palm. In turn Heero could do no more than silently step closer, eyes fixed on the sink as well.

And fall into my arms


Like the blood being washed away, the insanity also was leaving the boys. Both pondered this in the quiet of the cleansing. Perhaps it was a glimpse into this, that while it made them fear one another, fear themselves, made them understand one another as well.....

Which one was more frightening....

And when our worlds
They fall apart


When there was no more Trowa could do to clean the puncture wound, he let the water drain from the sink, watching the swirl of pink until it had all vanished.

"Trowa......."

Heero took hold of his lover's injured hand, now preen. He waited until Trowa gazed at their hands, and slowy brought it up to his lips, watching as the other's eyes trailed up to his. Gently he flipped it so the wound faced his lips, and lapped at the gash. Sealing it with a kiss, he placed the hand over his heart.

When the walls come tumbling in


The clown smiled, eyes glazed, in a distressful manner. He was allowing his boyfriend, for once, to view the mixture of inner torment and felicity he hated to hold back. Heero smiled, eyelids falling quickly, trying to hold back the tears.

"Heero.....trust me when I say I love you......."

He couldn't say anything for awhile, the millions of thoughts, though slightly altered, still running through his mind.

".............I will."

They moved closer, so as to hold one another. For once in both their lives, vulnerability didn't matter. There was no enemy to guard against, and now their minds, not just their hearts, understood that.

Though we may deserve it


The sun's rays began filtering into the bedroom by the time the lovers could make their way back to it. Dawn was upon them, at last. Laying back down into the satin, a golden light shone on the boys, giving their naked bodies an ethereal, heavenly appearance.

And as they lay in bed, huddled together, they let their other injuries bleed freely, healing naturally, so as to remind them of tonight for a long time to come.....

It will be worth it





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