Author: Sita Seraph
Genre: Dark Angst
Pairing: 1x2, 2x2, 3x2, 2x4/4x2, 5x2
Rated: R
Summary: The war can do damage. But friends can do worse. And Duo has found out the hard way. After giving up his very body to the soldiers of the Gundams, Duo is left with only one choice: Revenge. Cold-blooded revenge.
Warning: Bastardized Duo since part Eight, willing rape, lemons, swearing, abused Duo.
Note: An hour off from my deadline. Whoops. ^^; Life shall go on. Umm…enjoy. I know it's been awhile and…well, I don't feel like saying anything. Dedication to Blue Lightning for helping me out, as always. Tell me if this part needs any work, blah, blah, blah, so on and so forth…can you tell I just want you guys to read it already!? Ignore me. Move forward. *clickydeeclick!*

Abuse This + Part 10

Of all the things, I wanted to stop thinking. So many thoughts were swirling in my head and I couldn't control any of them, not a single one. They were fleeting and distant then smashing against me so hard that I lost my breath. I was surrounded by memories and shattered plans. I didn't know where to pick myself up again. I didn't know if I should give up. If I should just bow my head, shrug my shoulders, and just plain give up. I didn't want to. I wanted the suffering to stop. I wanted the pain to stop. The pain that I had kept inside for so long. It was ripping me apart, you see. The pain was so bad that I could feel my heart stop beating for a couple of seconds. The pain so rough that it was tearing my sanity into shreds, piece by piece ­ there was barely anything left. This misery was killing me. It was making my blood run cold ­ I was always so cold. It was making me throw up everything I put down ­ I was so hungry and dizzy. It was making me cry and tremble, soft silent tears that plummeted off my quivering jaw ­ it didn't help the pain stop. My heart was pounding so hard - so hard that it hurt. The angry throb carried up from my chest into my lungs and out my lips. I wanted the pain to stop! I wanted to stop feeling like this!

There was only one way for that to happen too.

But I didn't know if I could do it anymore.

I wanted to share this pain. Give it to someone else. Take apiece out from my hissing flesh and shove it down someone's throat. Then that piece, that memory, wouldn't bother me anymore. Because they would have it. They would have to hold it inside them for two years. I wouldn't. I wouldn't have the burden anymore. I wouldn't have your guilt, Wufei. I would not have your mistakes, Trowa. I wouldn't have your stolen life, Heero. I…I would not…

I would not have your love, Quatre.

Because, you see, they gave me these things. Handed them over with a pleasant smile or maybe punched them right into my mouth. However it happened, they gave me these things to harbor and hold within, until I wanted to scream for murder…for someone to kill me. When they gave me these things, no longer would THEY have to worry about it. Wufei's guilt from the battlefield would no longer haunt his dreams, shadow his future mistakes. He would be able to move on with life and I would hold all that inside and try to deal with them, deal with them the way Wufei could not. For Wufei could never forgive himself over the lose of his wife. He was guilty of the fact that he could not protect her and that he was too weak. Every move he made then, back in the war, always lead to that feeling of worthlessness ­ of being weak. And thus, the chain of guilt would thrive again and he would succumb to it until he was, indeed, a useless soldier. It was then that he found me, and with this his guilt was emptied into my head and my body.

Then there was Trowa. All the mistakes Trowa had made before and with me, he held against me. But I just couldn't see why any longer. Why hold those errors against the person who embraced them and pined them down under their pulsing flesh? Why blame me when I helped him escape from them? Because he was angry. Trowa might have fooled everyone into being calm and secluded ­ but in fact, he was always so angry and lost. The mistakes he made in the past had led him to this point where he could hardly take it anymore. He needed relief, someone to help him forget. I was there, but at the wrong time. For I became a mistake as well and he holds everything in his past against me. Who he was truly looking for was, in fact, Quatre.

Heero. Why make up for a childhood lost by indulging into a street rat like me, Heero? What do I know about childhood? All I knew was lies and survival. All I knew was to keep fighting and making sacrifices ­ whether it be food or sex. Why did Heero choose me to pour all his sorrows in, all his hate for not having a simple and normal childhood? I had no one to blame for the way I was brought up ­ I could blame it on OZ, I could blame it on my parents, or I could blame it on myself. But I didn't. Heero blamed it on everyone. All he ever wanted was normalcy. But he couldn't have that. His childhood was completely ruined simply by his strength. For even though he might, at one time or another, had something ‘normal' with me, his strength and his hatred for those around him ­ the ones he blamed for his upbringing ­ ruined it all the very moment he struck me. All I became after that was the vent for all his ruined dreams, because he knew that even if he did survive this war, he would never, ever be considered normal.

I closed my eyes, sniffling, and rubbed angrily at the tears soaking my cheeks. I wanted to return everything they gave to me. A lost childhood. A guilty secret hidden under all the battle scars. Mistakes made when only a child, when he was a mercenary ­ of whom had no real choice. It was only proper. To give them back what was due. I felt like a bank. I stored their pain, their emotions, and stolen items. Now I was giving them their tax return. Every ounce of it.


There was nothing I could give back to Quatre.

For all that Quatre gave me was smiles, warmth, and love. And none of these things could ever be given back in their full strength for rest of my life.

I wanted to stop thinking about it all. I wanted to forget, for just a little while my mistakes, my memories, and my pain. I had wandered into a bar at sometime, when I wasn't crying so hard. I was bent over a drink, my body swaying hazardously on the stool, and out from the corner of my eye, I could see the throbbing mass of people dancing to the music filling the club. I couldn't hear very well though. The music was sluggish and slow, the beat drowned out by my cotton filled head, soaked with beer. I rubbed my face tiredly, squeezing my sore eyes shut and wishing I never had to open them again. I was a sour drunk, I knew it. I wasn't funny or happy when I was intent on drinking, not unless the beer had been in my system for far too long. No one had tried to hit on me, but I also didn't look like I went out to catch a date. I had nothing but some jeans and a T-shirt, a dreary and boring outfit against the horny masses. I barely looked up from my drink to catch anyone's eye that might have wandered in my direction. I just continued to stare at my glass, swirling it around on the table, and taking large gulps when the burning sensation of my last sip had died away. A few other empty glasses surrounded my half empty one. My memories were drowning in all the alcohol, wrenching their desperate reach from my clogged mind. But I still didn't know what I should do.

I glanced over at the dancing mass, my glass lifted and resting against my half-opened lips. Lights were flashing over the shadows of teenagers, all of them moving together, all of them breathing together. It was ecstasy there. An emotion I hadn't been able to feel in the longest time. I took one last sip from my drink before tearing my body from the stool. My knees buckled and I gripped onto the table, holding myself up. I stared at the dancing, alive mass and I knew they wanted me to join them. I wanted to be just like them, for one single moment. I wanted to share that emotion and hold it close ­ no more pain, no more memories, no more friends. I would be truly alive but be nothing at all if I was with them. I would just BE and that's all that mattered. Move with the flow, be it and breathe it. There would no longer be a Duo Maxwell. There is no Quatre, no Trowa, no Wufei or Heero in there. Nothing laid in there but freedom - freedom from the mortal bonds. Because you couldn't think in that living mass. There was just the music and us ­ no confinement with me and I. But an us, something never achieved through sex, a bond never made through friendship, and goal never achieved in life. It was the one place where nothing could touch you.

The beat had changed and the lights took a more dramatic effect. It was a song made for sex, of blind and raw affection with no feeling ­ just to connect and grind; to move and become one without removing any clothing or making any sort of commitment. I dragged my body to them, reached out, and was pulled inside their world. Some laughed, others groaned, but all around me were smiling faces, lips slick with sweat and salvia. I looked wildly around, losing myself within the throes of withering bodies, in all the glitter the women wore and in all the flesh the men freely showed.

I realized that maybe this wasn't the freedom I was searching for.

I was jostled around from person to person, just realizing my limbs were around one person before someone else pulled me away. I found myself against some man, his lower body grinding into me, and he was whispering into my ear ­ I couldn't hear what he said. I just pulled away, twisting my arms free, and shaking my head no. He let me go surprisingly easy and I fell back, crashing into a group of dancing teenagers and I was sucked in between them, smashed between their hot bodies and searching mouths. A girl closed in, her lips landing on my neck and probably smearing all of her dark, red lipstick over my skin. Her hips moved up and grated against mine, which were forced to move forward because of the male grinding behind me. My knees buckled and I sank some, curling my eyes up at their lustful expressions and drowning in it. I smelled sex and they moved harder into me. The boy behind me was reacting to his dance partners and he moved quicker, his hot breath ghosting over my sweaty skin. I trembled and closed my eyes, twisting my head to the side. His hands ran down my sides, hooking his thumbs in my jeans, and holding me up, constricting my non-responding member in a tighter spot. I gasped and threw my head back, throwing up my hand and clutching onto the girl's bare shoulder, trying to push her away.

I was going to be sick.

I was suddenly spun, lost, then found again in someone else's arms and he made me move with him this time, curling my shaking arms around his neck, and feeling his cock rub against me. His fingers trickled down my arms and to my hips, making them move and push back against him, so he could seek release. My head fell back onto his shoulder and I stared up at the flashing lights, feeling my heart shudder and pound louder than the music all around us. My lower abdomen twisted with repulse, trying to drive out the demons sneaking in closer with each shuddering breath I brought in. I was surrounded in the sex again, trapped within grinding hips and hot, hot bodies. I was always so hot, I could never cool down. I closed my eyes, a scream bubbling in my throat, and I choked on it. I choked on it just like the words I failed to say when they came to me. I couldn't understand why I didn't speak out, why I didn't just throw my head up and scream bloody murder. But I couldn't find my voice; it was lost while I clasped their lips, sucked their cocks. I wanted to fist my hands into my hair and shake my head wildly until I grew dizzy and my head hurt too much to think. But I couldn't find my hands; they were lost on my lovers' flesh. I couldn't find my own release; my own scream retching past silent barriers and falling upon deaf ears. I felt the rage bubbling up inside, the rage I felt every time I just gave in and let it happen. When I didn't search hard enough to find my hands and push them away - when I didn't grab hold of my voice and tell them exactly what I thought about them.

Why do I cower and succumb like this?

Why am I so weak inside ­ so weak! ­ that it reflects on my bodily strength when I have the ability to fight back?

Why can't I find the voice I need so much in desperate hours, when I can normally speak without real thought?

Why do I succumb to the wills of others when I know the act will kill me afterwards?

Why…am I like this? Are there no answers to the path I've wound up on? Will I never know how I become like this ­ lost, confused, and…

…and like this? A boy wrapped up in whatever arms found him, letting any man do what he wanted with him, without a protest, without a tear, without a thought…until the overpowering human was gone…and only then did the screams retch from this boy's throat ­ only then did the tears finally fall into soaked sheets ­ only then did the act committed finally register and another piece of sanity broke and fell away.

How…did I become…that?



Walking aimlessly down the street away from the bar, my only guide to my feet was the wall of the buildings I passed by. My fingers scraped the rough bricks and I had tripped once over a crack in the sidewalk or something and had sliced them up a bit. They stung. That's all that I was really aware of. That they stung and I wanted a band-aid or something for them. I didn't think about where I was going or where I was going to sleep tonight. Most likely I would knock myself out by my own two feet, by the way they were carrying on. I was getting frustrated with them. Why couldn't they just go from one in front of the other? My left leg kept turning in on itself and my right knee was being real squiggly. I can't count how many times I almost fell, only to be saved by some miscellaneous building.

Gingerly, I touched my bleeding lip, a wound caused by my last dance partner before I finally couldn't take it anymore. He thought it would be cool to have a little blood into a ‘hot and heavy' kiss to turn himself on more. That's when I pretty much freaked and just started throwing fists. I probably connected more of them on other people than that asshole. Nothing was coherent anymore after that. I just swung and swung and smashed something up. I heard a lot of cursing and screaming from the general women ­ I know I hit one of them too. After that, someone really big had caught me from behind and threw me out of the club. I forgot to thank him. I didn't want to be there anyway.

There was probably a big orgy fest going on right now too…

"Goddamnit! Duo!"

"Goddamnit!" I cursed as I tripped over my heel when my left leg did another jiggy move and I stumbled, crawling for my savior, the wall, to help me from saying hello to the concrete. It did, just as I knew it would, and I turned to give it a big kiss when I stopped, because the wall just happened to grow a set of brown hair, bulging blue eyes, and three hands…

…er, no wait, the third was a mannequin's, sorry about that…

"Holy shit!" Throwing my arms around wildly, I whirled around, took two leaping steps, tripping over myself, and slammed my face against a steel pole.


"Duo! Duo, are you all right!?"

"Heero! Look what you did to me!" I screamed hysterically through my hands, holding my bleeding nose and blinking back the sharp tears in my eyes.

"I didn't throw you at the pole, you idiot," he replied, stopping my body from rolling along the ground and screaming my head off. His hands snatched my wrists and pulled them away from my face, though I fought him all the way.


"I have to look at it."


"I guess it must be because blood turns me on."

"That is so sick ­ OW!"


"WHOOPS?! Fucking WHOOPS!?"

"It looks straight now."

"Can we quit with the fucking humor at such a critical time, Yuy!?"

"That wasn't humor."

"Fuck you."

"Get up. It's not broken. And stop bleeding."

"Let me just wave my fairy wand…"

Helping me to my feet, I let the blood falling from my nose puddle in my cupped hand while Heero pulled a convenient and scrunched tissue out of his jacket pocket.

"If I find snot in this…" I warned. Heero barely smiled and I stuffed the hankie against my nose, staring at the blood soaking my hands. I thought about wiping it against my jeans but sighed and let the idea go; blood was messy business when it came to getting it out of your clothes.

"What are you doing here?" I grumbled and swayed as the floor sank in around me. I grabbed the pole for safety. Blood problem: solved. I felt, rather than saw, Heero move forward and put a guiding hand above my elbow. I thought about jerking away but figured I didn't want another encounter of any kind with my face so I settled down a bit and tried concentrating on something else.

"Looking for you," he replied and nodded towards his car. I was wondering why I was seeing bright lights all of a sudden. Heero's headlights were beaming me right in the face and it seemed he had rolled a bit onto the curb in his haste to catch up with me. His door was still swung wide open, just as he left it, and came running to my rescue.

My knight in shining automobile. Sigh. Bat eyelashes.

I would have fainted by now over my hero's (fucking pun intended) gallant deeds if my face didn't hurt so much. So instead I swooned like a good guy that was supposed to be in love and knocked Heero's hand off my arm. Hey. If I didn't have to move my feet, no problem with the ground then, eh?

He gave me an odd expression and I realized I was supposed to be playing a part here.

God, how I just didn't care anymore.

"You were bruising my arm," I said lamely around my tissue and stared tiredly ahead. Not convinced in the least, Heero continued to give me a confused look before slowly letting it go with a shrug of his shoulders. We stood there for another moment before he gestured hesitantly at the car.

"Do you want to get in by yourself or should I carry you?"

"Where are we going?" I said blankly, too tired to bring up some lame act and too cranky to be nice-nicey to anyone. I just wanted everyone to shut up, especially me…I didn't want to do anything. I almost wanted Heero to carry me to the damn vehicle ­ I didn't know if I had the energy to crawl towards it.

"To the hotel ­ where I'm staying."

I blinked my eyes towards him. "What happened to the cabin?"

He sighed. "Can we talk in the car?"

I narrowed my eyes at this and snorted, jerking my head into the air. "What if I don't want to go with you?"

"Too bad." With a shove, Heero pushed my stumbling body towards the car and caught me again before I fell. Gently placing his hand on my arm again, he helped me to the automobile and sat me inside. When he came around and got in the car, he glanced at me as he closed his door. I turned my head out the window, and crossed my arms firmly over my chest into the most defensive ‘I don't want to talk right now' position I knew. Obviously, Heero hadn't read that textbook yet. He relocated his eyes out the hood and sat there with the engine running and his hands on the wheel, staring off without moving the car. I shifted restlessly after two minutes of this went by and I jerked my eyes at him angrily. He looked at me then.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked quietly.

Sighing heavily through my nose and turning my eyes back out the window, I answered, "No, Heero."

"I didn't mean to shoot you," he replied slowly and then cleared his throat as if to continue in some way. When he didn't make another comment after a couple of seconds, I continued for him.

"Just chock it up against all the bullets I landed on you," I said stiffly.

"Has Wufei visited you?" Heero asked suddenly and I rolled my eyes, irritated.



Pause. Unpause.

"I never…visited you."

"Well, duh!" I snapped, whipping my head around. "I think I would have noticed!"

He blinked, taken aback by my venom. "I mean ­ I meant that…you didn't ask me to come and see you."

"Notice that, did you?"

His eyes fell, then looked out the window. "Just thought you would is all."

"Oh, knock it off," I spat angrily and he looked at me bewildered. "I'm not going to pity you or some crap like that. Or feel sorry because I hurt your feelings. Just drive the car."

"I thought…"

"Do you want me to do it?!" I screamed furiously.

"But that night-."

"Was a bunch of bullshit! Do you get it, Heero?! Do you fucking understand!? Everything I said was just a bunch of bullshit! Now. Drive. The. Fucking. Car."

"…What?" He said slowly, as if stupid.

"Oh, forget it," I grumbled and ripped open the passenger door. "I'm walking."

"No! Duo!" He grabbed my arms and pulled me back into the car, an easy task for him since I was completely shit-faced. "I just don't understand! What happened!? Why would you do something like that!?"

Stopping my struggles, I turned and spat out, "I don't know. Maybe I was stressed-out and needed a quick lay to relieve myself or something."

His hands suddenly grew lack in shock then tightened before I could slip away from them. I could feel him shaking and for a minute, I thought I pushed his buttons too far again. I froze myself, finding once again that words of protest died in my throat and I just couldn't seem to find the strength to get away.

But I was surprised when he said…

"Is…that all?" He whispered. Stunned again, I turned my head around and stared at his wide and disbelieving eyes. "Is-Is that what you think of me? Just some…some lay?"

I threw back my hand and punched him as hard as I could.

"You fuck! You insensitive jerk!" I raged, too busy trying to rip Heero apart to realize I was crying all my worth. My tears were soaking my bloodstained face, cleansing the gore from my face. I threw my fists at him, sometimes the flat of my palms when one of my arms just got too tired. He cowered against the door, covering his face as best as he could and blocking what wild hits he could ­ which weren't many. I was crazed again, not even seeing, but just punching and throwing out all my rage everywhere ­ hoping that most of my hits would hit the man I hated the most.

"Die! I wish you would just die! Jerk! Jerk!" I screamed hysterically, my voice wheezing through my tears. I was tiring out and it didn't even seem like my punches had affected Heero at all. He had unfolded himself a little bit, trying to look at me, and was yelling back at me ­ asking me what did I mean, why was I hitting him, had I gone completely mad…I didn't answer him. I just wanted to keep on hitting him and just hoped that I killed him with my bare hands. But I, as usual, didn't get the chance.

Heero struck back and I blacked out.


[part 9] [part 11] [back to Singles l - z]