'Lifeline' for chester_no_miko
Title: Lifeline
Recipient: chester_no_miko
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Self Harm / Angst / Dark
Summary: Wufei wakes to find his other self has once again taken over.
Author: teagoblin
"Again? Really?” The sneer was so obvious in her voice, so completely absorbed in something beyond him that Wufei wanted to cry. But tears refused to come, his eyes didn’t even water, his world didn’t even attempt to focus on her. It wasn’t like she was real anyway. Or, real in the sense that anyone else would ever understand.
The pain was real though as it cut deep into his skin, down and in and he could feel the steel as it bit down through each thin layer of skin and he named them in a hushed whisper as they gave way to him. Epidermis. Dermis. Subcutis. They sounded like Gods to his ears, far more real than any his youth had taught him. Fei Lian had never conjured a breeze as sweet against his skin as the blood that pooled and slid down it now. Suiren had never summoned a fire that burned as deep as the one itching now in his bone, squandering the madness that ate at his mind in the deeper hours of the night.
“I would ask why, but I know the answer.” Her back. How often had he seen it? Living or Else, he barely remembered her face now. Saw it through the haze, before clarity came and she was long gone, or it was her back, like now, clear and clean and perfectly straight. Like she knew everything, filled with confidence and certainty and everything he no longer knew how to find. She was, even now, everything he was supposed to be, yet wasn’t.
“Could you tell me?” Because he’d been searching for the answer for a while and it wasn’t getting any clearer to him. Why did he do this? He had no idea, he just knew it made it better somehow. Every waking moment lead to this, the planning of it, the getting supplies for it, the hunger for it. Food and water were no longer the necessities they had seemed. This was all that mattered.
The leaving. That was the important bit.
“What do Dragons become, when they shed their scales, breathe their last breath of fire and go deep into their caves to hibernate, without any intention of waking again?”
“How the fuck should I know?” He wanted to spit in her damn face but her laughter was all that was left of her and her question was all that remained in his ears. The roar was gone and the clarity was back and for a moment he wasn’t sure what had happened; what he’d done.
Then the confusion too passed and he just stared at the blood pooled on the floor, assessing, trying to gouge the damage. He was too good at it, in the end. He knew where the veins and arteries were; could shove a pin into a man and hit the right one, so it was no surprise he had hit none of his own. Even the muscle would heal, he’d slid the blade right between the two, cutting them apart but clean and precise and the ligaments had shifted aside as he’d probed it gently deeper. A slight nick out of the bone, to go along with all the others.
It was the blood that was the issue as he counted up how much was on the floor and how much water he’d drunk from the last time, how much he’d neglected and he cursed himself even as he tore up his trousers and bound the wound tight enough to slow the flow.
“Of all the fucking retarded...” But there was no point, he was talking to himself and that part of his mind that apparently liked to do this to itself sure as hell wasn’t listening. It was waiting, silently, and hoping it would never have to think again.
Needle. Thread. Blood. New necessities, but he had them in stock now, hidden away where the other part of his mind didn’t know and he collected them with speed, putting on every light in the house, making it as bright as he knew, giving himself as much light. The red was always so startling in the light.
Pushing aside the ghosts of memories, Wufei carefully unwound one wrist and without waiting or hesitating stapled the wound shut. Buying himself time. He hurried to do the other and then set up the blood. His movements were sluggish, he was already running low on time and he forced himself to remain calm. To get it done, because dying would be more trouble than it was worth, having to actually live with Meiran being only the tip of the iceberg. That shade belonged in Hell, if anything ever made her actually go there.
The needle bit but the skin was numb as he did one layer inside the wound before stitching the skin closed. The bleeding slowed and he sighed in relief, cleaning it out before binding it in tight white clouds of clean. Like a fresh start. A new beginning so he could do it all again.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
At first, he wasn’t sure where the whisper had come from. It didn’t sound like his own voice. He stared at the scars peeking out above the bandages and counted them up, the times he had woken on his bathroom floor. And that first time, when he’d realised the situation he was in and hadn’t known who’d done it. When he’d searched for a few furious days for the bastard that had broken so stealthily into his home and done this thing to him.
That day he’d sat there on the toilet seat, staring at the scene of his repeated crime and realised. The sound of his own laughter as he realised how insane he’d grown. That another him lived somewhere inside, with Her ghost, arguing about the monster he’d become. And there he was, so convinced he’d handled it perfectly, cast aside the memories and moved on. Got his own place, a degree, a respectable job with a law firm, and strictly no contact at all with the past. It had been right, and he was fine.
Right. He laughed now, that same incredulous, hollow monster that knew the truth. How wrong it all was, even now. The only right thing left was the quiet truth that slipped from him as he sat now, in the only sane moment he had, waiting for the strength to return to forget it, go back to trying to live his life until the other Wufei took over again.
He picked up the phone without even realising what he was doing and he wasn’t even sure how he knew the number but it dialed and when a voice came through on the other line he thought there was blood on his face he’d missed, dripping down off his chin.
He was still crying, staring at the clear liquid in bewilderment, when the door smashed open and a hand that was anything but gentle snatched up his arm and stared in fury before hauling him out of his apartment. Out of his life.
“You’re a fucking moron, Chang.”
Maybe. But he’d finally figured it out. He stared at the thread of chestnut rope swaying in front of him and grabbed it, because it was the only lifeline he had.
Recipient: chester_no_miko
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Self Harm / Angst / Dark
Summary: Wufei wakes to find his other self has once again taken over.
Author: teagoblin
"Again? Really?” The sneer was so obvious in her voice, so completely absorbed in something beyond him that Wufei wanted to cry. But tears refused to come, his eyes didn’t even water, his world didn’t even attempt to focus on her. It wasn’t like she was real anyway. Or, real in the sense that anyone else would ever understand.
The pain was real though as it cut deep into his skin, down and in and he could feel the steel as it bit down through each thin layer of skin and he named them in a hushed whisper as they gave way to him. Epidermis. Dermis. Subcutis. They sounded like Gods to his ears, far more real than any his youth had taught him. Fei Lian had never conjured a breeze as sweet against his skin as the blood that pooled and slid down it now. Suiren had never summoned a fire that burned as deep as the one itching now in his bone, squandering the madness that ate at his mind in the deeper hours of the night.
“I would ask why, but I know the answer.” Her back. How often had he seen it? Living or Else, he barely remembered her face now. Saw it through the haze, before clarity came and she was long gone, or it was her back, like now, clear and clean and perfectly straight. Like she knew everything, filled with confidence and certainty and everything he no longer knew how to find. She was, even now, everything he was supposed to be, yet wasn’t.
“Could you tell me?” Because he’d been searching for the answer for a while and it wasn’t getting any clearer to him. Why did he do this? He had no idea, he just knew it made it better somehow. Every waking moment lead to this, the planning of it, the getting supplies for it, the hunger for it. Food and water were no longer the necessities they had seemed. This was all that mattered.
The leaving. That was the important bit.
“What do Dragons become, when they shed their scales, breathe their last breath of fire and go deep into their caves to hibernate, without any intention of waking again?”
“How the fuck should I know?” He wanted to spit in her damn face but her laughter was all that was left of her and her question was all that remained in his ears. The roar was gone and the clarity was back and for a moment he wasn’t sure what had happened; what he’d done.
Then the confusion too passed and he just stared at the blood pooled on the floor, assessing, trying to gouge the damage. He was too good at it, in the end. He knew where the veins and arteries were; could shove a pin into a man and hit the right one, so it was no surprise he had hit none of his own. Even the muscle would heal, he’d slid the blade right between the two, cutting them apart but clean and precise and the ligaments had shifted aside as he’d probed it gently deeper. A slight nick out of the bone, to go along with all the others.
It was the blood that was the issue as he counted up how much was on the floor and how much water he’d drunk from the last time, how much he’d neglected and he cursed himself even as he tore up his trousers and bound the wound tight enough to slow the flow.
“Of all the fucking retarded...” But there was no point, he was talking to himself and that part of his mind that apparently liked to do this to itself sure as hell wasn’t listening. It was waiting, silently, and hoping it would never have to think again.
Needle. Thread. Blood. New necessities, but he had them in stock now, hidden away where the other part of his mind didn’t know and he collected them with speed, putting on every light in the house, making it as bright as he knew, giving himself as much light. The red was always so startling in the light.
Pushing aside the ghosts of memories, Wufei carefully unwound one wrist and without waiting or hesitating stapled the wound shut. Buying himself time. He hurried to do the other and then set up the blood. His movements were sluggish, he was already running low on time and he forced himself to remain calm. To get it done, because dying would be more trouble than it was worth, having to actually live with Meiran being only the tip of the iceberg. That shade belonged in Hell, if anything ever made her actually go there.
The needle bit but the skin was numb as he did one layer inside the wound before stitching the skin closed. The bleeding slowed and he sighed in relief, cleaning it out before binding it in tight white clouds of clean. Like a fresh start. A new beginning so he could do it all again.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
At first, he wasn’t sure where the whisper had come from. It didn’t sound like his own voice. He stared at the scars peeking out above the bandages and counted them up, the times he had woken on his bathroom floor. And that first time, when he’d realised the situation he was in and hadn’t known who’d done it. When he’d searched for a few furious days for the bastard that had broken so stealthily into his home and done this thing to him.
That day he’d sat there on the toilet seat, staring at the scene of his repeated crime and realised. The sound of his own laughter as he realised how insane he’d grown. That another him lived somewhere inside, with Her ghost, arguing about the monster he’d become. And there he was, so convinced he’d handled it perfectly, cast aside the memories and moved on. Got his own place, a degree, a respectable job with a law firm, and strictly no contact at all with the past. It had been right, and he was fine.
Right. He laughed now, that same incredulous, hollow monster that knew the truth. How wrong it all was, even now. The only right thing left was the quiet truth that slipped from him as he sat now, in the only sane moment he had, waiting for the strength to return to forget it, go back to trying to live his life until the other Wufei took over again.
He picked up the phone without even realising what he was doing and he wasn’t even sure how he knew the number but it dialed and when a voice came through on the other line he thought there was blood on his face he’d missed, dripping down off his chin.
He was still crying, staring at the clear liquid in bewilderment, when the door smashed open and a hand that was anything but gentle snatched up his arm and stared in fury before hauling him out of his apartment. Out of his life.
“You’re a fucking moron, Chang.”
Maybe. But he’d finally figured it out. He stared at the thread of chestnut rope swaying in front of him and grabbed it, because it was the only lifeline he had.