24-Dec-2000
::adopts scary voice:: I'm ba~aaack! More THM. If you need to
reread the first two parts to remember what's going on, which would
be entirely understandable ::winces::, they're in my section at GWA
(http://gwaddiction.com).
Read the damn warnings. They're important. And the fic is an
important one to me.
Notes: As some of you know, I have never written a rape fic and
generally do not read them, for personal as well as "professional"
(writerly, I guess) reasons. This is not primarily a rape fic as they
are usually seen... and it's nothing like what my original idea for a
rape fic was. Both the original idea (which I may pick up one day, so
I can pick Heero's brain) and this fic are answers to the things I
see and can't deal with in the average "rape fic." I have tried to be
true to what I know. "Tsuyoku Hakanai Monotachi" means "The Strong
and Ephemeral People," essentially, and is the title of a song by
Cocco.
Warnings: Angst. Frequent mention of rape. I promise not to kill
anyone important; usually I wouldn't spoil but I know for some people
it's healthy to have an added suicide warning if they're going to
risk a rape fic and it ends up that way. So for your emotional
protection in that case, I'm telling you ahead of time that this fic
is an NSZ (No Suicide Zone).
Disclaimers: I don't own any of my puppets. I own only my words and
my demons (or is it the other way around?).
I hate the shit. The baggage. You know? The stuff we carry around with us everywhere when we know it's too heavy for us, but that we can't quite put down. The shit other people carry around that we know is too heavy for them, but that we can't take away. That's what I hate.
So. Where was my story? Right. Hildey and Trowa. And that night I was going to go to the--
The--
--Rape Survivors' Meeting.
I could say it. See? If I could say it, I could deal with it. I could deal with this; I was strong. Shinigami Maxwell could help his girl through this. Well... except that Hilde wasn't technically my girl. Which would bring us to a slight snag. Could I really be the person to help her, if I couldn't stop thinking about myself? Because every time I started worrying about her in those few days between The Knowledge and The Event, I would end up mad that the universe had done this to us when *I* wanted to be physical with her. And I was worrying about her a lot, since I'd left the "Duo is in shock" phase of things and entered the "Duo must help" phase of things over the last day or so, which meant I was thinking about anger and physicality a lot.
Which was closely tied in with second snag, which would be that so far my "helping" had consisted primarily of having a small nervous breakdown. But I would do better, I told myself. I would help her. I would try to make her comfortable. She was trusting me with this, and I would honor that trust... and when it was over, well, maybe we could be together. And maybe I could privately find the shit that did it and introduce said shit to Shinigami.
Yeah. That sounded nice.
She walked into the room then, and I noticed that she flinched a little, involuntarily, at the sight of me. I had begun noticing that lately, that that *always* happened. I tried to push away the part of me that got angry over it, and the part that got hurt over it, and concentrate on the part that was determined to help her make it go away. "Hey, babe. What's up?"
She looked at her shoes. They must have been more interesting from her angle, because from where I was sitting they looked like ordinary combat boots.
Combat boots?
"I, well... I wanted to borrow a jacket for tonight."
I'd figure the boots out later. I tried to assume the Uber- Supportive Duo look I'd been working on with her for the past 24 hours or so, as we tiptoed around the house trying to avoid each other and be together at the same time. "Sure, Hildey, take whatever you want. We should go in a few minutes, ok?" Don't look like you're in a hurry, but look like you care about getting there. Don't sound like you're mothering or pestering, but make sure she can get done what she needs to. Life was all about walking lines lately.
Yes. Tonight was the night.
She gave me an unreadable look and left to get the jacket.
Heero's method of "holding" didn't seem like it would work in this case, since she tensed up whenever she was around me. It also seemed like a bad idea because holding her would make me want to... well, hold her in a different sense. And I may not be the smartest suit on the rack, but even Duo Maxwell knows that would have fucked everything up. Not just in the literal sense.
So what was I going to do? I couldn't use the Heero method (hugs-- who'd've thunk it? Heero "Stone Sphinx" Yuy hugging Trowa? You learn the damnedest things when the shit is in the ascendancy...). I couldn't use the Wufei "blow things up and then avenge in the appropriate means" approach, because I didn't know who the asshole was, and I was pretty sure it would mean leaving Hilde alone for awhile if I tried that anyway. I didn't want to do that, for her sake.
My reasons certainly didn't have anything to do with wanting *me* to be the one taking care of her, *me* to be the one she depended on, maybe looked up to... *me* to be the one she came to for love when it was all over...
Of course not. That didn't enter into it at all. And I've got some land to sell you on L2 that has a real good natural water supply.
Yes. So it turns out that Shinigami has a touch of a Messiah complex. I want to be the one that fixes everything and saves everyone, and the stupid part of me persists in believing I can be. When it's not busy believing I fuck everything up and burn everything I touch.
I'm keeping the stupid part of me under tight surveillance now, fortunately.
So the Wufei method was out, the Heero method was out, the Trowa method was out for obvious reasons, which made me wince when I thought it. And I had no idea what the Quatre method would be, except that it would probably involve infinite kindness and the hire of expensive therapists. No way was I going to tell Hilde to get a therapist; I'm sure they work out for some people, and maybe she's one of them, but I was not going to push her into heavy shit like that. If she wanted to go, I'd find someone and I'd drive her to the office and I'd wait in the lobby and read year-old magazines and drink stale coffee until she came out.
So I was going to have to make up my own method. Unfortunate for her that fate had left her with me as a supporter, because I felt like I was wandering around in a fog. I had no idea how to find the way out of this.
Now I realize I had less a clue than I thought even then.
She walked back into the room while I was wrapping up my little dime- novel rumination session, wearing her combat boots, olive canvas pants, a starch-stiff white shirt, and... my flight jacket? It came down to her knees. It was big for me, which is why I never wore it.
"Let's go," she said.
She looked great. She looked really, really keyed up. I grabbed the keys, and we headed out the door to go be rape survivors.
Shit. Did I just say that?
End Part 3
And that would be part 3, folks. Part 4, in which we watch the L2 Rape Survivors' Meeting, will come out soon if I can be together. Which doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot, but I'm trying. In between the periodic fits of coughing.
Have a lovely [fill in name of holiday here]! ^___^ I will try to get out my Christmas fic, but it might be a little late. ^_^;;
I am thinking of you, minna.
(:./cutter/tsuyoku3)
