Title: Staying Buried
Warnings: serious AU, probable OOC, angsty/depressing, language... lots of language, alcohol... lots of alcohol, yaoi!
Disclaimer: *draws line* this is my half of the fic and that's your half... you stay on your side and we'll get along fine
Feedback: yes... yes!... YES!!
"It had taken us nearly to the end of that first summer to realize one another's feelings. It just came as a revelation one day. We had been hanging out at Trowa's house before everyone went their separate ways for the rest of the day. Duo and I had nothing to do, so we went exploring and ended up in that clearing, where we were earlier today. We sat down on that stump, looked at each other, and " My words drift off.
"And what?" she asks gently.
"He kissed me."
Alexis looks only mildly shocked by that revelation. There's a strange smile on her face that's bothering me. It's like I'm one of her annoying gal pals recounting the sappy story of my first love.
"I admit that I never expected him to reciprocate my feelings. I was so stunned by what he did that I just sat there mutely, with a blank look. Duo took that as a sign that he had gone too far, that I didn't feel that way about him, so he took off running. It took me awhile to realize that he was gone and an even longer amount of time to find him afterward.
"He was sitting curled up, with his back against a fallen tree, head buried in his arms, and crying. That moment was the first time I thought seriously about suicide, all because I had made him cry. But I couldn't kill myself until I sorted everything out and let him know just how I felt.
"I knew that he was aware of me standing there, but didn't raise his head. He just cried harder. I kneeled down next to him and tried to get him to look at me. It was a struggle and finally I just gave up trying and blurted out that I loved him."
I start laughing at the memory. Alexis looks puzzled.
"He didn't believe me," I explain. "His head shot up and he started yelling about how I didn't mean it, that I was only trying to make him feel better, that I was sick and cruel, and on and on. He had a habit of rambling without stopping and listening. Telling him to shut up never worked so I did the next best thing. I grabbed his head and kissed him hard. Worked like a charm and he never doubted me again."
We're both smiling, but mine slowly fades.
"Do you want to know why I stopped believing in God?" She stops smiling too. I know she doesn't want to hear the answer.
"It was because Duo and I had suffered so much already. It just wasn't enough for Him. He had to take away anything and everything of value in our lives. I was six, fucking six years old when He killed off the last person who cared for me. For ten years I was miserable and lonely. Then for less than one year, I knew happiness. I knew love. And then it was gone." My drunken ramblings are taking a turn for the worst.
"What happened?" She just can't get enough.
"Two weeks after that kiss we were back in school. But because we couldn't see each other whenever we wanted then, we agreed to sneak out at night and meet at the clearing. Every night we met there. Sometimes just looking at the stars or talking. Sometimes just sitting in silence, listening to the forest life around us. We never ventured into anything physical, even though we both could have easily gotten naked right there. It sounds cheesy but those nights were spiritual.
"I can tell you the exact date that my life shattered. The 17th of September. I had convinced Duo to skip school with me and I took him to my house. Both my aunt and uncle worked during the day. He had never been inside my house before. I wouldn't let him be subjected to the scrutiny of my family. I gave him the tour and watched him as he looked with at everything those wide eyes. We ended up in my room. It was so full of stuff back then. He looked at me with a huge grin on his face and took a flying leap onto my bed.
"I can remember everything about that day except for who initiated our third kiss. It wasn't awkward like the first two. This one was slow and warm and filled to the breaking point with hidden sensuality. Details aside, it got pretty heavy, pretty damn fast. So much so that I never heard the front door slam."
My throat threatens to close off. I take a swig of vodka straight from the bottle, wiping off on my sleeve the few drops that missed their target.
"In all those years I had been living under that roof, my uncle had never once come home from work early. I curse God because He made my uncle come home early that day. I never heard his tread up the stairs, his footsteps as they came down the hall. I never heard him open the door. What I did hear was his rage as he discovered me half-naked in the arms of another boy. I felt his hands as they grabbed me and threw me against the wall, his fists as they connected again and again with my body. I heard the loud smacks at the contact and Duo's yells for him to stop.
"I could only watch as he took Duo by the arm, dragged him out the door and kicked him out of the house. He came back for me. He beat me into total submission. I only recall half the obscenities he called me. The other half were lost as I lost consciousness.
"The next day, as I lay helpless in bed worrying over Duo, that bastard had withdrawn me from school and enrolled me in a private boarding school. He waited until I healed enough and then prepared to ship me away. I knew I couldn't get out to see Duo. My head must have been slammed into the wall too many times because I thought I could get him to the clearing if only I gave him a signal. So at three in the morning, on the day of my departure, I hauled all the stuff I could from my room to the clearing and set it on fire.
"I don't know why I thought that would work. I sat there for as long as I dared, watching the remnants of my childhood burn. He never came. That day my uncle found us was the last day I ever saw him. I never got the chance to tell Duo what happened. I'm sure he found out by rumor, but I wanted to be the one to tell him.
"At boarding school, my uncle must have given them strict instruction that I wasn't to have outside contact because I was never allowed near a telephone or mail. I wasn't permitted to go home. It was a fucking jail and they kept me there for five years. It killed any happiness I ever felt. I once again shut away all my emotions. I tried so hard not to think about Duo because all that would bring up was pain. I missed him so much. I still miss him.
"When I was finally free, I knew I couldn't come back here. I wanted to see him so badly but cowardice kept me away. So I moved to New York, got a job and an apartment. And you know the rest of my shit life from there."
I look at Alexis. For once, I see no pity or sympathy there. Just something that I label as contemplative sadness which quickly turns to a frown. Her hard stare halts the bottle halfway to my lips.
"I knew you were a fucking idiot before, but this just proves it." Of all the things I wasn't expecting at that very second, that had to have been at the top of the list.
"What the hell are you talking about?" If I had feathers, they'd be ruffled right now.
"You say you miss him but you haven't once tried to contact him in seven years? Get over yourself! What about him? Did you ever think of what he wanted? There was absolutely no resolution to the relationship because you're too chicken shit!"
If she keeps hitting the mark, I swear I'll do something drastic. Time for the pity party.
"Maybe he doesn't want to see me. Maybe he's forgotten all about me and having me come back into his life will only fuck everything up. Maybe I don't know." I sound so pathetic to my own ears.
"Fine. If you want to let it slide right through your grasp, so be it. Just remember that the only one keeping you alone is yourself."
She glares at me one more time then stalks off upstairs. Since when did she become the rational one? She's right, I know it, and I hate it. Every single part of my being wants to find him, wants to tell him what really happened, to apologize and know that will never suffice. But I don't find him, I don't call him, I don't write him. I don't because I can't. I've been so empty but now I'm filled with self-doubt. Nothing will sway me from thinking that he doesn't need me anymore.
I grab my bottle, find my coat and retreat to the relative safety of the outdoors, heading straight for the woods. It seems like every few feet I take another long drink and by the time I get to the clearing, I can't walk straight. I manage to remain upright until I get to the stump, sprawling across it, spilling vodka.
I'm a mess and I want to die. If I have to live much longer, I'll break wide open. Now seems like as good a time as any.
The forest seems to shudder as the scream rips from my throat. It lasts an eternity. I empty everything into that horrible sound, only to have more pain rush into replace it. It finally dies and I collapse back, head hitting the wood with a hard thump. My heart isn't satisfied yet. Third time's a charm I think vaguely as the tears roll down my cheeks.