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Prologue: Quatre
I stared up at the imposing façade of the grey brick building as the car pulled to a stop. ‘Khushrenada Adolescent Psychiatric Hospital’ the letters over the doors proclaimed. I pressed my lips into a thin line. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. My father came around to the passenger door and opened it, staring at me expectantly.
"Get out of the car, Quatre," he demanded. I stared forward defiantly, refusing to look at him. He leaned in closer, and reflexively I leaned away, my skin crawling. "Get out of the car, and do it right now, and do it quietly, or I will remove you from the car." His voice was low and dangerous. I was helpless to disobey that voice. Hating myself, I slid out of the car, taking great care not to touch my father, even though he was still standing uncomfortably close. I couldn’t help but yelp when his iron grip suddenly took hold of my arm, and he started to pull me up the stairs and into the building. I bit my lip to keep from screaming the entire time his hand was on me. When he finally let go, inside the lobby, I tasted the salty tang of blood in my mouth. I rubbed furiously at my arm, wanting desperately to wash him from me.
My father spoke to the nurse behind the counter, and it was not long before Dr. Khushrenada himself appeared to greet us. There was another doctor with him, much younger than he was, and who bore a striking resemblance to him.
"Ah, good morning Mr. Winner," Dr. Khushrenada said warmly, shaking my father’s hand. They had met on several occasions. "This is my son, Treize. He recently graduated from medical school and is a resident on staff here." The younger doctor, Treize, shook my father’s hand as well, before turning his piercing gaze on me. I scowled at the floor, his gaze making my skin crawl. I continued to rub at my arm. It just wouldn’t come clean.
"This is my son, Quatre," my father replied, disdain in his voice. I rubbed harder.
"Yes, Treize, Quatre is going to be staying here with us for... awhile," Dr. Khushrenada added.
"Oh, yes, the transfer from the clinic you mentioned earlier," Treize replied, looking at me with renewed interest. I shuddered at the mention of the clinic. It had been mere hours since my father had picked me up from that damnable place. I was sure its stench still clung to me.
"Quatre was making no improvement whatsoever there. I’m sure it will be quite different here," my father said.
Dr. Khushrenada nodded in agreement. "Yes, I knew from the moment I first evaluated Quatre at the clinic that it was not the place for him, and that he would be much better off here. Well, I’ll have an orderly bring in Quatre’s things from your car and show him to his room. His roommate will help him to get settled in. In the meantime, why don’t we go to my office to talk?" My father nodded his agreement, and the doctor had the nurse page an orderly. A beefy man in green surgical scrubs appeared, and I disliked him on site. He disappeared outside with my father and they returned after a few moments, the orderly carrying my small suitcase. With his other hand, he gripped my arm, intending to lead me away. I screamed and started thrashing in his grip, pounding ineffectually on the fist that held me in an iron grip. My skin was crawling, crawling, and panic blurred my vision. Dimly, I heard Dr. Khushrenada speaking.
"Young Mr. Winner does not like to be touched, Anderson, so you should refrain from doing so unless it is necessary." The orderly, Anderson, released me, his face unreadable. I fell back against the wall, breathing rapidly, my heart hammering in my chest. I rubbed furiously where the man had touched me. Clean, clean, I was never going to be clean! My father looked away, a sneer of disdain on his face. Treize stared at me, his wide eyes giving away his surprise. The elder Khushrenada merely gave me a condescending smile. "You’ll co-operate, won’t you Quatre? You won’t make it necessary for Anderson to touch you again, will you? They are expecting you up on the ward. Your father will be round later to say good-bye." I glared at him venomously, but gave a sharp nod. What else could I do? I was trapped here. Resisting would be quite pointless, and would only give the people here reason to put their filthy hands on me. My stomach twisted. I couldn’t let them do that.
Anderson started to walk down the corridor, and I had no choice but to follow. My father and the two Dr. Khushrenadas went down the opposite corridor, Treize pausing to give me one last look over his shoulder. Anderson led me up some stairs and down another corridor. We came to a security checkpoint. A gruff looking nurse pawed through the contents of my suitcase. Finding nothing objectionable she filled in some forms and slipped a hospital bracelet bearing my name and patient number onto my wrist. It may as well have been a manacle. I shuddered when her fingers brushed my skin.
The nurse buzzed us into the locked ward. I swallowed in fear. There had not been such extensive security measures at the clinic. This was more like a prison. Again I wondered how this could be happening to me. This was so unfair.
The ward opened onto a commons area furnished with a number of couches, a coffee table, and a TV. A number of teenagers lounged about listlessly, some of them turning to observe me with mild interest. I averted my gaze, my skin crawling. I followed Anderson down the hallway to the left of the common room. He stopped in front of room
207 and motioned me inside. I stepped in reluctantly. It was a small room, with two narrow beds to each side. The only other furnishings were a couple of desks and chairs. The room’s sole occupant raised his head when we entered and grinned widely. I stared. There was something utterly humourless about that grin.
"Yo, Anderson, is this my new roommate? What’s his name? What’s he in for? You didn’t stop off in the janitor’s closet to molest him or anything did you?" The boy asked, bounding to his feet. My back stiffened, and my face flushed red. I edged away from Anderson. Molest? The boy, who had a ridiculous braid snaking down past his butt, sensed the cause of my discomfort and winked at me. "Hey, I was just kidding, Anderson wouldn’t do something like that. Would you, Anderson?" On the last three words his voice became very sharp, and his eyes seemed to dig daggers into the orderly. My skin crawled, and unconsciously I was once again rubbing at where the man had grabbed my arm.
The orderly just regarded the boy with a contemptuous sneer. He deposited my suitcase on the floor. "I’ll be seeing you later, Duo," he said before turning and disappearing out the door. The boy, presumably Duo, stared after him darkly for a moment, before turning back to me, suddenly a ray of sunshine.
"Hey, man! My name’s Duo! What’s your name? So what are you in for? Or do you not have a diagnosis yet? That’s like me! Though they’re wavering between manic depressive and psychotic!" Duo punctuated this with a gale of not-quite-sane laughter, before thrusting his hand out at me, presumably expecting a handshake. I shrank away from him.
"Oh, so you’re one of those ‘Don’t touch me!’ types. That’s cool! You can still talk, though, can’t you?" Duo said, completely unruffled as he withdrew his hand. I fidgeted a bit, staring at him suspiciously. He didn’t seem like a threat, so I answered him.
"My name’s Quatre," I said cautiously. Just then a loud buzzer sounded, causing me to jump in surprise.
Duo chuckled. "No need to panic, that’s just they’re idea of a dinner bell. C’mon, I’ll introduce ya to everybody!" he said, heading out of the room. I sighed and followed him. It’s not as if I had a choice.
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Part 1: Wufei
Heero, Trowa and I sat at our usual table with our dinner trays. It was the standard fare, cardboard meatloaf and instant mashed potatoes. I barely contained a sneer of disgust. I often thought that the menu alone in this place would drive a sane person out of their mind. I looked up as Duo’s brash voice caught my attention. He could be clearly heard even thought he was still halfway across the cafeteria. I shook my head. There was a blonde boy trailing along behind him, with the kind of scared look about him unique to a deer caught in the headlights. A new patient, then. And having to contend with Duo, too. Poor thing.
"Yo! Guys!" Duo called out as he and the blonde kid sat at the table after collecting their own dinner trays.
"There’s no need to yell, Duo, we’re right here," I remarked dryly. He just grinned at me.
"Hey guys, this here is Quatre, he’s my new roommie," he said, gesturing at the blonde, who was staring down at his dinner tray with a look of utter dismay. I could hardly blame him. He looked up when he heard his name, though.
"Hi," he said quietly, turning a bit pink. I stared. God, but the kid was skinny.
"Hey, don’t worry man, none of these guys are going to bite you," Duo grinned, before starting to shovel food into his mouth. It didn’t matter if it was disgusting or not, if it was edible, and Duo was hungry, he would eat it. Heero, Trowa and I were used to the food, so we had also started eating, though with less gusto than Duo. But the new kid, Quatre, had returned to regarding his dinner as if it was something he’d scraped off his shoe. "Oh, and guys," Duo added, "don’t touch him, he doesn’t like that." Quatre scowled, blushing even more.
"Damn! I almost forgot to introduce everyone!" Duo continued between mouthfuls of food. "The guy with the bang is Trowa, he has schizoid personality disorder. The Japanese guy is Heero, who like me, doesn’t have a firm diagnosis, but is probably a sociopath. Charming, huh?" Heero glared at him, but Duo just grinned. "And he," Duo continued, gesturing at me, "is Wufei. He has schizophrenia. But don’t expect him to do anything fun like talking to his shoes or conspiring with his toothbrush to take over the world, they have it all under control with meds. Not like when he first got here." Duo punctuated that statement with a gale of laughter. I glared daggers at him, and felt my face flushing a little. Quatre was staring at me with wide eyes.
"Duo…" I growled in annoyance.
"Aw, c’mon, Wu, it’s all in good fun. We all know I’m the biggest psycho here!" Duo laughed humourlessly, and Quatre turned his gaze on him. I wondered what the poor guy was thinking of us. "Hey, Quatre, you never did tell me what you were in for," Duo added, looking at the blonde expectantly. Quatre blushed, looking away uncertainly.
"I… I was transferred here from Pinewood," he said nervously. Duo blinked, scratching his head.
"Pinewood, Pinewood… Hey, isn’t that the eating disorder clinic?" he asked. Quatre flushed even more, and fidgeted in his seat.
"Yes," he answered. "They think I’m anorexic and bulimic." Silence ensued. We stared at his thin, almost skeletal frame. Down at his untouched meal. Back up at him. He scowled. "I’m not!" he snapped, folding his arms over his thin chest as if trying to hide.
"Sure, sure, of course not," Duo said amiably. Quatre quietly fumed. "Hey, don’t worry about it, the doctors here don’t know what they’re doing anyway. They don’t care, either, they’re all just in it for the insurance money…" I sighed. Duo was off on one of his rants. Quatre looked distinctly unhappy. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
Suddenly, Anderson appeared at our table, behind Duo. I scowled, and Trowa and Heero stiffened. He put a hand on Duo’s shoulder, causing him to stop his monologue and look behind him. Quatre looked up as well, startled, and recoiled away from the man. Anderson gave Duo a slight nod, and then headed for the cafeteria exit. Duo stared after him for a moment, his eyes as hard as ice. Then he turned back to us, grinning. It looked more like a grimace, though. He stood up.
"Hey guys, guess I’ll catch you later. You can just follow these guys back to the ward, Quatre. They’ll look after ya. Later!" And he followed Anderson. Quatre watched him go, a confused frown on his face.
"What… what was that about?" he asked uncertainly, swinging his gaze back at us. Trowa, Heero and I looked at each other. I supposed that there was no reason for us not to tell him. He would find out sooner or later, especially since he and Duo were sharing a room.
"Duo is a drug addict," Heero announced, as if that explained everything. Quatre blinked at him in confusion. I sighed.
"Anderson steals drugs from the hospital pharmacy for him," I explained further. Quatre looked shocked.
"But why… why would he do something like that? He could get into a lot of trouble," he said, perplexed.
"He doesn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart," Heero sneered in disgust, turning his face away. Quatre’s face was blank.
"Duo… exchanges… favours in return for the drugs," I said slowly, trying to put it as delicately as possible. Quatre blinked a few times, and then realization dawned.
"Oh… Oh!" he exclaimed, his features twisting in disgust. "H-how can he do that?!?!" He started rubbing at his arms, as if the thought alone made him feel dirty.
"Duo is… complicated," I sighed, feeling suddenly quite weary. I looked at the doors through which Anderson and then Duo had disappeared. I felt a sense of helplessness creeping up on me, but quickly pushed it away.
"But, what about the doctors? Can’t they tell he’s using drugs? Don’t they notice what’s going on?" Quatre persisted, clearly quite agitated.
"The doctors can be remarkably obtuse," Trowa said softly, speaking up for the first time. Quatre looked at him in surprise. "They do not test him for drugs, despite his record and the obvious evidence that he is using, because they refuse to acknowledge the possibility that he could obtain drugs here."
"His record?" Quatre asked warily.
"Duo was sent to juvenile hall for a number of drug offences," I explained. "He was transferred here after several violent outbursts, the worst of which sent one of his fellow inmates to the hospital with life-threatening injuries." Quatre slumped down in his seat, stunned. He was probably wondering how safe it was to be Duo’s roommate. I smiled weakly. "Don’t worry, Duo’s not going to attack you or anything." Quatre looked at me like he wanted to ask me why I was so sure of that, but he was distracted by the approach of two men. One was Dr. Khushrenada, but I didn’t recognize the other one. Quatre suddenly sat up straight, his face going stony. I blinked at the sudden transformation.
"Ah, Quatre, I trust you’ve settled in nicely," the doctor said in that condescending voice of his that always made me wince. "I see you haven’t eaten your dinner. Now you know you can’t make a habit of that, hmm?" Quatre scowled. I couldn’t blame him Khushrenada was an ass. "Your father and I have finished talking so he’ll be off now."
The other man, presumably Quatre’s father, leaned down to look Quatre straight in the face. I blinked in surprise as the blonde’s face twisted in a combination of distress and disgust, and he leaned as far away from the man as his chair would allow.
"Now, Quatre, you’re going to behave yourself here, aren’t you? If I hear otherwise, I’m going to be very, very upset, you understand? You’re going to get your head straightened out and stop this foolishness. I’m sick of it. I’ll see you on visiting day, in two weeks. I better see some improvement," he said coldly. With that he turned and left, the asinine doctor trailing after him. Quatre glared daggers into the man’s back. Yikes. There was definitely a story there.
Just then the buzzer announcing the end of dinner sounded. We cleared away the trays and headed back up to the ward. Quatre looked a little shell-shocked. A little intimidated by the whole situation. This was probably a lot of information for him to be processing. I supposed it couldn’t be easy, processing the reality of being a patient in a mental institution. I could not really relate. My first few weeks here were a little… hazy. I frowned. I preferred not to dwell on those times, if at all possible.
It was a Saturday, and therefore a Movie Night, so about half the patients in our ward stationed themselves in the commons area upon our return from dinner. I took pity on Quatre and invited him to join us. We claimed our usual couch, but Quatre elected to pull over one of the chairs, presumably so he wouldn’t be in danger of the body contact that the four of us scrunching onto the couch would have entailed. Even if Duo had not mentioned it, it was not hard to tell from his posture and behaviour that he was one of those people who did not like to be touched.
About two-thirds of the way through the first movie, something vapid chosen for its lack of violence, sex, language, and anything else interesting, the ward entry buzzer sounded. Everyone turned to see who was coming onto the ward. I pressed my lips into a thin line. Anderson had returned Duo. Duo was kind of… hunched, one arm wrapped around himself. His braid was undone, his hair hanging down in his face. He did not look up as he… he slunk down the hallway towards his room. There was no better word for it. I turned my gaze to Anderson, who was still hovering outside the security glass, watching Duo disappear down the hallway. He turned to meet my gaze, and the bastard actually smirked at me before turning and walking away. Rage boiled in my blood. The nerve of him.
Heero was already on his feet. Trowa and I followed him, and I sensed Quatre trailing along after us as well. Heero did not bother knocking when we reached Duo’s door, and simply walked in. The room was dark. I flicked on the light switch. Duo was curled up on his bed, face to the wall.
"Go away," he ordered, his voice flinty. I sighed, rubbing my head wearily. Heero went over to the bed and forcibly turned Duo over. Duo glared up at him, arm still wrapped around his stomach. He had a split lip. And his eyes had a slightly glassy look to them. So he’d already taken some drugs, then. Of course, he’d want to take some right away, so he could forget about what he’d had to do to get them.
"Go away," he repeated. "Can’t you leave me to get stoned in peace?" His voice was strained. That sense of helplessness was creeping up on me again. I saw it mirrored in the tension in Heero’s body, in the set of Trowa’s jaw. Quatre just looked lost.
"He hurt you," Heero stated. It was not a question. Duo shrugged him off, turning back to the wall, curling up tighter.
"So?" he finally replied, voice heavy with the encroaching drugs. "Anderson likes it rough sometimes. What the fuck does it matter?" A horribly, horribly, bleak voice.
"Of course it matters!" I snapped. "Fuck, Duo, why do you keep doing this to yourself?" Heero glared at me. I didn’t care. Duo’s body tensed.
"You don’t understand," he replied, barely a whisper.
"You’re right, I don’t! I don’t understand how you expect us to keep sitting idly by while you destroy yourself. I don’t understand why you keep willingly subjecting yourself to that bastard time and time again, especially since he…"
"Shut UP!" Duo suddenly yelled, hands flying up to cover his ears. Quatre gave a small yelp of surprise.
"Fuck, Wufei, you should know better," Heero said, scowling. I sighed and rubbed my head. Heero was right, of course. I did know better than to broach that particular subject with Duo when he was so… vulnerable. It was best for now to let him drift in whatever escape the drugs allowed him.
"Fine. I’m sorry, Duo. Just let Heero check to make sure you’re not too badly hurt, and then we’ll leave you alone, okay?" I conceded. Duo lay quietly, having once again wrapped his arms around his middle. I started to wonder if he’d already slipped into a drugged slumber, but finally he nodded. I sighed. Trowa and I herded a profoundly confused Quatre out of the room, leaving Heero alone with Duo.
Quatre was wide-eyed. I think seeing such a profoundly different Duo from the one that he had met earlier had deeply disturbed him. Again, I could hardly blame him. But he didn’t ask any questions, and for that I was very grateful. I was in no mood to offer further explanations.
We waited in the hallway until Heero emerged from the room with his damage report. The split lip, of course. Bruised ribs. A twisted wrist, probably sprained. And there was bleeding. There was always bleeding. Quatre was pale, his face unreadable. Heero and Trowa wore twin stony masks. I clenched my fists helplessly. There was nothing to do except return to the commons area, where the second movie had begun playing in our absence.
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Part 2
I shifted uneasily in my chair. I couldn't concentrate on the inane movie playing on the TV. I looked at the others, sitting on the couch.
They stared blankly forward, grim expressions on their faces. They
obviously weren't paying attention to the movie, either. I looked over
my shoulder, back down the hallway. To where Duo was.
I swallowed, turning back around, slouching down in my seat. I wrapped
my arms around myself, but I couldn't banish the chill in my bones. I
couldn't tear my mind away from Duo. From the stark contrast between
the Duo that I had met upon my arrival, and the Duo who now lay in our
room, presumably in a drugged slumber.
How... how could this be happening? I couldn't wrap my mind around it.
Duo... letting that orderly... I shuddered. My skin was crawling.
Dirty... dirty... everything was dirty... I was trembling, rubbing
at my skin unconsciously. The others were staring at me, I could tell.
I wanted to curl up into a little ball, to disappear.
"Quatre?" Wufei whispered, his hand hovering in mid-air like he wanted
to touch me, but was thinking better of it. I flinched away anyway. I
couldn't help it. I was having trouble breathing. I drew my legs up,
knees touching my chest. Touching... touching... Duo was letting
that orderly... I wrapped my arms up around my head, wanting to block
out the world, to block out the filth...
Others were staring now, too. I could feel their eyes on me. A small
murmur was passing around the group of patients gathered in the common
room to watch the movie. I became aware of myself rocking back and
forth, of the low, keening whine coming from the back of my throat.
Static, there was static in my brain. The world was loosing its focus.
I welcomed it. I didn't want to think, to feel. I wanted away from
this place, to escape, even if it was only in my mind. It was safer
there, safer than here...
"If you keep this up, they'll call the orderlies to come and put you
into solitary. Trust me, you don't want that," Wufei said softly, his
voice low and calm. Reasonable. Solitary? Orderlies? Orderlies like...
like Anderson? Wufei was right. I didn't want that. With great effort,
I forced my body to relax, slowly uncurling from the fetal position
I'd folded myself into. I forced myself to be quiet, to be calm, to
not act like I was crazy. I flinched. Crazy. My father's angry voice
echoed in my head, yelling at me, calling me names, deriding me and my
'episodes' as he called them.
"Is there a problem here?" a voice asked, sounding far away. I looked
up, feeling dazed, trying to push back the static in my brain. I
blinked at the duty nurse, who was standing over me, a scowl on her
face. Dimly, I was aware of the movie still playing in the background.
Everyone else was deathly quiet, all eyes in the room fixed on me.
Dirty... dirty... For a moment the world wavered out of focus again,
but I forced it back, thoughts of being hauled away to solitary by
Anderson lending me strength.
"No, no problem. Quatre's just a little tired," I heard Wufei say,
again in that calm, reasonable voice of his. The nurse shot him an
incredulous look before turning her attention back to me. I somehow
managed a weak smile.
"I'm fine," I said, immensely relieved when my voice didn't crack. She
continued to stare at me for a long moment, until I became very much
afraid that I would start screaming at her to get her filthy eyes off
of me. Finally, she nodded and returned to the nurses' station. I
couldn't help but draw my legs back up, wrapping my arms around them
in a defensive posture as I felt everyone's foul gazes on me. Static,
there was so much static in my brain. When it became apparent that I
wasn't going to do anything else interesting, the other patients
turned their attention back to the movie.
"Are you going to be alright?" Wufei asked softly. I nodded
mechanically without looking at him, my gaze unfocused. Alright? How
could anything possibly be alright? I was trapped in this filthy
place, surrounded by filthy people, filthy eyes, filthy hands,
everything so damned filthy...! I was rubbing my skin again. I
forced myself to stop, burying my face against my knees. I couldn't
draw attention to myself again. Couldn't make any noise, or rock back
and forth like a 'retard', as my father was fond of calling me,
shouldn't even be curled up into a pathetic ball like I was, but I
just couldn't make myself unfold again. I needed some defense from
the filth in the air.
Finally, the idiotic movie ended. The nurse called out that it was time
for meds, and most of the patients drifted over to the nurses'
station, including Wufei and Heero. Afterwards, the nurse approached
me again. I eyed her warily, but all she did was inform me that I had
an evaluation with the younger Dr. Khushrenada tomorrow morning at
ten. He would determine then what medications I would be put on, if
any. Peachy.
A shiver of fear ran down my spine. The doctors at Pinewood had not
been strong supporters of using medication to control their patients.
During the two months I had been there, the strongest drug I had been
given was a mild sedative during one particularly bad 'episode'. And
even though it had been mild, the dullness of my senses that it had
induced, the sluggishness in my movements that it had caused, had
scared me, had made me feel vulnerable and helpless. I had taken care
after that to avoid 'acting out' too much. That was how they had
viewed my 'episodes' there, as acting out. It was the same attitude
that my father held. I had certainly not cared to enlighten them as to
how little control I had when... it would happen, when the world
would threaten to suffocate me, when I was drowning in filth and the
static in my brain overwhelmed me.
It would be different here. This was a mental hospital. Acting like
that... acting like that was crazy. They would see it and know that
I was crazy, would keep me here forever, would pump me full of drugs
that robbed me of my awareness, of my strength, would make me utterly
and completely helpless and defenseless...
I had to stop. Static... there was too much static? Breathing took
conscious effort. I could feel Wufei's eyes on me. Trowa and Heero's,
too. Duo's friends. I thought of Duo again, of what he had done so
that he could drug himself. I didn't understand, couldn't
understand. Why would anyone want that helplessness, want it so much
that they would... they would...
"Lights out is in about twenty minutes," Wufei said, breaking me from
my reverie. "Can you make it to your room okay?" I shot him a curious
look. It was true that at my worse I didn't have the presence of mind
to stand, let alone walk, but how did he know that? Mutely, I nodded.
"Would you like to come to my room and talk for a few minutes first?"
he asked. I eyed him warily. I had sensed no danger from him. He
didn't seem to be a threat. Besides, I had questions. Again I nodded.
With some effort I unfolded myself from the chair and followed Wufei,
Trowa, and Heero back down the hallway. Trowa solemnly bid us
goodnight and disappeared into the first room we passed. Heero
announced that he was going to check on Duo and went into the room
that he and I shared. I followed Wufei further down the hallway and
into his room.
Unsurprisingly, the layout was exactly the same as my own room. It was,
however, far neater than Duo's disarray. And books. I couldn't believe
how many books there were. They lined the shelf above the desk, were
stacked neatly along the walls, and were piled onto a makeshift shelf
constructed of milk crates wedged between the two beds. My eyes
traveled over the spines in wonderment, noting the range in subject
matter, everything from works of fiction to textbooks on philosophy,
history, physics, chemistry, biology, and psychology.
Wufei sat in his desk chair, motioning for me to sit at the other desk,
which was empty of any personal belongings. Apparently he did not
currently have a roommate. I sat in the chair, feeling uneasy. Wufei
regarded me for a moment, adding to my discomfort, before finally
breaking the silence.
"I can only imagine what you're feeling right now. But I'm sure you're
confused. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to answer all of your
questions, but we can certainly give it a try, if you'd like," he
offered. I suddenly thought of my caseworker at Pinewood. A balding
middle-aged man who'd always attempted during our sessions to put on
an air of casualness, to speak in an off-handed, reassuring manner as
if he was a good friend instead of a person in authority over me.
Attempted, and failed. I was reminded of him because where he had
failed Wufei was succeeding. Normally under circumstances such as
this, I would be feeling much more threatened. But there was just
something in Wufei's manner, in his way of speaking, that was suddenly
putting me at ease. At least, as much at ease as I ever am. He waited
patiently for a response, not pushing or prodding like my caseworker
would. Maybe it was safe to talk to him. A dozen questions sprang to mind.
"What's... what's wrong with Duo?" I asked finally, my strange new
roommate being my foremost concern for the time being. Wufei raised an
eyebrow, perhaps surprised by my straightforwardness, before turning
his gaze on the pencil he had picked up off the desk and was now idly
tapping against the polished wood surface.
"Couldn't start off with an easy one, could you?" he asked wryly, still
not meeting my gaze. He sighed. "I can't really answer that question.
To say that Duo has a lot of problems would of course be an
understatement. The doctors are completely clueless, about the drugs,
about... about Anderson, and about a lot of other things," he said,
glancing up at me before turning his attention back to the pencil.
"He's... not getting any better here. I... don't know what's going to
happen to him." His grip on the pencil tightened, his jaw clenching. I
could feel the depth of his concern for his friend. Wufei was afraid
for Duo. Very much so. I swallowed, uncomfortable with the gravity of
the emotion.
"You said he was transferred here because he put someone in the
hospital, but that he wouldn't attack me. Why are you so sure?" I
asked. A wry smile appeared on Wufei's face, dispelling the grim look
he'd worn only a moment before.
"Now that one's easy. Everyone may be convinced that Duo's completely
insane, including Duo himself, but the fact remains that he would
never attack someone that didn't deserve it," he replied. "It's just
not in his nature to hurt innocent people. And you just don't seem
like someone who's going to provoke him." I felt myself flushing a
little, not sure if he was teasing me or offering me a compliment of
some sort.
"Okay. Heero. Duo said something about him being a... a sociopath? But
I thought sociopaths didn't care about other people. He certainly
seems to care about Duo, and he's friends with you and Trowa, isn't
he?" I asked.
"First of all, that's a rather simplified definition of a sociopath.
And Heero hasn't been firmly diagnosed as such, that's just one of the
labels Dr. Khushrenada is throwing around," Wufei answered, barely
concealing a sneer of disgust at the mention of the doctor's name. "I
don't think it is an accurate diagnosis. Though he does exhibit many
of the symptoms, you're right, Heero does care a great deal about Duo.
But he probably wouldn't be too pleased that you'd been able to read
that so easily," he added with a smile. "I don't really know the
details of how he came to be here. He hasn't shared them with anyone.
I don't know what meds they have him on either. He's rather... secretive.?
"Okay," I said, mulling that over. "What about Trowa. Duo said he had,
um, schizoid something or other. What's that?"
"Schizoid Personality Disorder. It means generally that he has a
limited range of emotion, and is indifferent to social relationships.
Actually, Trowa really shouldn't be here. People with the disorder are
normally treated with group therapy, not hospitalization. I suppose
his family wanted a break from dealing with him, and saw a mental
hospital as 24 hour-a-day group therapy. And of course with their
impressive insurance policy, Dr. Khushrenada was only too happy to
comply," Wufei said with a humourless smirk. "Trowa was fortunate
enough to be assigned to Dr. Po, who only works here part-time, for
his individual therapy and has showed improvement. I'm sure Duo sort
of taking him under his wing and including him in our little group
played no small part in that as well. He'll probably be released soon,
if his family feels like having him around again."
I nodded absently, taking a moment to think about all he'd told me.
Then I met his gaze, cocking my head to one side.
"You really know a lot about this stuff, don't you?" I asked. Wufei
laughed softly.
"Yes, I suppose I do," he said. He gestured at the books lining his
shelves. "Before I got sick, I was well on my way to becoming
something of a scholar, following in my family's footsteps. When I
came back into my right mind, thanks largely to a wonderful little
drug called Stelazine, I suppose it was only natural for my interests
to turn to studying mental illnesses, too."
I looked at him quietly for a moment, another question on the tip of my
tongue that I did not have the courage to voice out loud. He returned
my gaze evenly, finally sighing and turning his attention to the
still-tapping pencil.
"Go ahead. Ask me," he said. My eyes widened in surprise. I swallowed
nervously.
"If you're... okay now, why... why are you still here?" I asked
tentatively.
"Because my family wishes it so," he answered, an edge of bitterness
creeping into his voice. "They're very proud, my family. Very
concerned about honour and good breeding and the like. Our lineage can
be traced back through four centuries. Simply intolerable that the
eldest son of the head of the family should be mentally ill... crazy.
A stain on their pride and their pure blood that they just would not
bear. My parents intend to keep me hidden away here until my
eighteenth birthday, until they are no longer legally obliged to
provide for me, and then cut all ties with me. I'll be of legal age
then to sign myself out, and Dr. Khushrenada will be happy enough then
to release me, without my family's money to keep me here." Wufei had a
faraway look in his eyes. "I think... I think my parents told the rest
of the family that I'm dead. That I was sent away to be treated for
some 'acceptable' physical ailment like cancer and died."
I was stunned, and afflicted with guilt for having brought up such an
obviously painful subject. I wondered what it must feel like, disowned
by your own parents over something you could not control. I certainly
had condemnation from my own father for what he considered
contemptible and childish acting out. That I was an object of shame to
him amongst his high-class friends and business associates I had no
doubt. But I knew he would never disown me. I was his property, just
like his estates and his various business holdings. Well, maybe not
just like those, he certainly didn't... didn't... Static started to
cloud my mind but I quickly pushed it back, sinking a little lower in
my seat.
"I'm sorry," I murmured. Wufei shook his head.
"No. It's alright. It's an old wound, even if it still has its sting,"
he said. Just then the buzzer sounded, the same one that had announced
dinner, causing me to jump in surprise. Wufei smiled.
"Ah, that's the warning that there's only five more minutes until
lights out. You'd best hurry and get ready for bed," Wufei explained.
I nodded, standing up and moving towards the door. I paused, hand on
the doorknob.
"Thank you," I murmured without looking back, and then quickly ducked
outside. I hurried down the hall towards my own room, uncomfortable in
the presence of other patients moving about, coming and going to what
was presumably the washroom down at the end of the hall. I paused
again at my door, suddenly reluctant, wondering what I might find on
the other side, but finally reached out and opened it.
Heero had already left. Duo was sprawled on his bed, breaths deep and
even, lost in his drug-induced sleep. I bit my lip as I looked at him,
feeling confused and torn over so many things. Remembering the time I
broke my trance and grabbed my toothbrush from my bag and hurried to
the washroom to get ready for bed. The buzzer sounded again just as I
was stepping back into the room and then suddenly I was plunged into
darkness. Cursing under my breath I fumbled forward for the desk lamp.
It was enough light to get changed for bed.
Afterwards, I lay for a long time in the darkness, unable to clear my
mind from the events of the day. To say that I was confused and
overwhelmed would be an understatement. It was all... too much. Wufei
had helped a little with the confusion, at least. I wondered why he
had bothered. Maybe he had taken pity on me. I eventually drifted into
uneasy sleep late into the night, where unpleasant dreams waited for me.
[0]
[1]
[2]
[3]
***
Part 3
Returning to consciousness was like swimming my way up from the murky depths. I didn’t want to. It was safe in those murky depths. Dark and warm and comforting. The waking world was too bright. Too harsh. Too sharp.
I rolled over in bed and blinked in bleary confusion at the occupant of the other bed. Then I remembered. I had a new roommate. Quatre. It looked like he was still asleep. The rapid fluttering of his eyelids revealed that he was dreaming. A frown crossed his pale features and he muttered something unintelligible. Not a pleasant dream, then. Poor kid. Thanks to Anderson’s little blue pills, my own sleep had been blessedly dream-free.
I sat up blearily, wincing at the answering twinges of pain in my ribs and ass. My head felt stuffed with cotton, my mouth as dry as sandpaper. I started to reach up to rub my face but gasped at the pain that gripped my wrist. What the hell? And then an image came to mind… face pressed down onto a rough blanket… breath coming in harsh gasps… Anderson wrenching my arm up behind my back, laughing in my ear…
I shook my head, clearing it from such thoughts. Grimacing, I climbed to my feet, reaching out to steady myself against the night table as a wave of dizziness washed over me. I needed something. I needed something to make it go away. Opening the table drawer I fumbled for the small baggy of pills from Anderson. This time is was blue for downers, white for uppers. It wasn’t always the same, since he couldn’t always steal the same drugs. Whatever. It’s not like I cared what drugs I took. As long as they made me feel different, made the bad feelings go away.
The two small white pills I shook out into my palm didn’t look nearly enough, so I added a third. I eyed what was left in the bag critically. There really wasn’t much, considering what Anderson had made me do to earn it. Probably only enough to last a couple of days. Then I’d have to go crawling back to him. Bastard. I nearly bent double as my stomach roiled with sudden nausea. I barely made it to the wastebasket by the door before retching. When I was finished I leaned back against the wall, panting, the three precious white pills still clutched in one hand.
Quatre murmured in his sleep again, startling me. He was grimacing, fingers white-knuckled as they gripped the sheets. I figured I should probably wake him. A glance at the clock showed that it would soon be time for breakfast any way. But there was something I had to take care of first. On unsteady feet I returned to the night table, where someone, probably Heero, had left a glass of water. I quickly gulped down the pills, rinsing some of the taste of bile from my mouth. The baggy of pills once more safely stashed away, I turned to the blonde in the other bed.
"Quatre," I said gently. "It’s time to wake up."
"No…" he murmured, almost as if in response. His head tossed to the side, exposing a pale expanse of throat. Christ, the kid’s skin was practically translucent. Had I not noticed it yesterday? "NO!" he suddenly yelled, causing me to jump with surprise. I repeated his name again, louder, but received no response. He whipped his head to the side again. "Please… don’t…" His voice had a sharply plaintive edge to it that seemed to cut me to the bone. Suddenly feeling more urgent, I reached out and shook his shoulder roughly.
"For Christ’s sake, wake up, Quatre!" I didn’t want to hear that voice again. Couldn’t. His eyes shot open, limbs flailing wildly. I barely avoided being struck in the face.
"DON’T TOUCH ME!" he screeched, suddenly seeming to fold in on himself as he cowered back against the wall.
"Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, Quatre, it’s just me, Duo! I’m not going to hurt you!" I said as calmly as I could. He blinked at me for a few moments, recognition setting in. His body began to relax a little as he looked around the room in a daze, getting his bearings, before his eyes settled back on me.
"Are… are you okay?" he finally asked me uncertainly, an earnest look in his eyes. I raised an eyebrow, smirking humourlessly.
"Shouldn’t I be asking you that?" I shot back, my voice sharper than I’d intended. I was so not in the mood to be answering any questions about last night, not before those little white pills had begun to work their magic. Quatre looked away, eyes downcast.
"I-I’m fine. It was just… just a bad dream," he replied, his voice small. I felt a stab of guilt. There was something about the way he was huddling on the bed, arms wrapped around his knees, that made me feel like I’d just kicked a puppy. I sighed, rubbing my face wearily, and ending up flinching as the movement once again twinged my sprained wrist. And my split lip. Fuck. It was too early in the day for this. The world was too in focus.
"Listen, they’re going to ring the buzzer for breakfast soon. Get up and get dressed, ‘kay?" I managed a smile at him, but I needn’t have bothered, as Quatre didn’t look at me, only nodded his head and moved to climb from the bed. He got some clothes and left the room, presumably headed for the washroom. Somehow it didn’t surprise me that he wasn’t about to change in front of me.
I decided I needed a shower before getting dressed for the day. I didn’t want to think about still having Anderson’s… scent on me. I quickly gathered up my stuff, including the wastebasket, and followed in Quatre’s footsteps. When I returned to the room twenty minutes later, I found Quatre sitting on the edge of his bed, fully dressed, hands clasped together in his lap. Christ, didn’t the kid ever relax? He looked up when I walked in, and upon seeing me clad only in the towel wrapped around my waist, he stared in open-mouthed shock at the bruising visible over my ribs for a moment before quickly turning his face away, cheeks colouring pink.
I should have cared. I should have been embarrassed. Something. Anything. But those little white pills had started doing their thing. Caring would have required too much effort. Ignoring Quatre I dropped the towel to the floor and stepped over to my dresser to pull on some underwear, a ratty pair of black jeans, and a baggy black t-shirt. I finished it off with my black combat boots. My father called it my hoodlum uniform. Prick. But there was no room for thinking about things like that with the happy white pills dancing in my brain.
After braiding my damp hair I turned back around to find Quatre with his eyes planted firmly on the ceiling, his face as red as a tomato. I couldn’t help but smirk.
"It’s safe," I said casually.
He smiled at me uncertainly, but followed me to the cafeteria anyway.
The whole gang was there. I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. The details of the previous night were decidedly fuzzy. Other than the pain. Pain was always a constant. But fuck, how much did they know? I supposed that they at least knew about my split lip and the other bruises on my face. It was hardly possible to hide them. Fuck. I still really didn’t like how they were looking at me. Like they had a right to judge me. Fuck them. My skin was crawling, hostility and anger and resentment surging up over me like a tidal wave. I paused on my way to the table, gritting my teeth and clenching my fists, forcing it down. I wasn’t angry at them. They had done nothing wrong. Sometimes it was hard to remember that. The feelings packed away into a tight ball in the pit of my gut, I started forward again, vacant grin on my face to match the vacant sensation stealing over my brain.
"Cheerio," I said casually as I seated myself at the table. I swayed for a moment as the movement sent a wave of vertigo washing over me. Whoah. Maybe that third pill hadn’t been the greatest idea. I started giggling. When Heero reached out and gripped my arm, I just giggled more.
"Duo!" he said sharply. "Get a hold of yourself." He didn’t ask me what was wrong. Heero was no idiot, he knew what was going on. He didn’t ask me if I was alright, either. He knew I wasn’t.
With great effort I reigned in my case of the giggles. I wiped my face, which was feeling curiously numb, and then regarded the others with a deep sigh. Quatre was staring unabashedly. Wufei was frowning, lips pressed together into an unhappy line. Trowa regarded his breakfast tray, face blank and reserved. Heero was staring back at me with that… that intense look of his that always seemed to suck the breath from my lungs. I blinked, suddenly feeling a little more sober, and turned my attention to my unappetizing breakfast.
For awhile, we ate in an uneasy and unusual silence. The world was becoming soft and unfocused. I kept wavering in my seat, my brain unable to keep a firm grasp of the concept of ‘upright’. Heero had to nudge me once when I had leaned so far to the side that I was in danger of falling out of my seat. I almost started giggling again, but Heero’s sharp look quelled me. I could barely choke down any of my food. Apparently another side effect of these pills was a total loss of appetite. I quickly grew restless, fidgeting in my seat. My hands were developing a slight tremor. I noticed that I wasn’t the only one not eating. Quatre’s tray was completely untouched.
As if on cue, the elder Dr. Khushrenada came strolling along, pausing to peer over Quatre’s shoulder at his uneaten breakfast. He made a ‘tsk’ noise in the back of his throat, startling Quatre and making the boy yelp in surprise. A muscle in my cheek twitched. Anger and irritation suddenly rose up, focused on that officious bastard.
"Now, Quatre, this isn’t going to be a problem, is it?" the good doctor drawled condescendingly, and I was overwhelmed by the desire to wipe that fucking smirk off his face. Heero placed a hand on my arm. He knew me too damned well. Quatre ducked his head, staring down at his tightly clasped hands. Khushrenada leaned down, forcing Quatre to recoil away.
"Do I need to call an orderly over to help you?" he asked, looking meaningfully towards the main doors, where Anderson stood on duty, gazing in our direction with mild interest. He smirked when he caught my gaze. I quickly looked away, face twitching. Quatre’s face had gone pure white, staring at Anderson in abject horror. His eyes flicked at me and then back to the orderly. "So?" Khushrenada prompted.
Quatre slumped, defeated. I could well imagine that he didn’t want Anderson anywhere near him. With a trembling hand, he picked up his fork. Eyes squeezed shut, face grimacing, he shoveled a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. I blinked at him. Christ, it looked positively painful for the kid to eat. Two quick chews and then he swallowed, looking green around the gills. Khushrenada did not move, clearly expecting him to eat more. Hand trembling even more, Quatre choked down a couple more mouthfuls. I realized with some shock that there were tears brimming in his eyes.
"That’s it, Quatre. That’s a good boy," Khushrenada praised in his slick, oily voice. And that was it. Quatre suddenly bolted from the table, hand over his mouth. Khushrenada opened his mouth, probably about to order Anderson to follow him. What a disaster that would be. I shot to my feet, just barely managing not to fall over.
"That’s okay, doc, I’ve got it!" I yelled, my voice a tad shrill, before taking off after Quatre.
It wasn’t hard to guess where he was going. I slowed to a halt outside the washroom door, taking a moment for the vertigo to pass. Quietly, I stepped inside. The sounds of retching could be heard coming from the last stall. Stopping in front of it, I leaned back against the wall and slid down until I was sitting on the floor, parallel to the stall. I could see the treads of Quatre’s white sneakers under the door. I leaned my head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling while the room swam a little bit around me, waiting as Quatre went about the business of being sick. Finally, the retching noises stopped. I could see under the door that he had sat back on his heels. The soft ‘thunk’ noise led me to believe that he was resting his head against the seat.
"I’m not going to do anything as lame as ask you if you’re okay," I said. My voice was only a little slurred from the drugs. Bonus. I heard him shift a little, and then there was a harsh, slightly hysterical chuckle.
"Gee, thanks," he replied. I sighed, playing with a loose thread on my jeans.
"You’re going to have to get used to the docs making you do stuff you don’t want to do. You don’t need me to tell you that it’s only going to lead to bad things if you keep… this up. Privilege restrictions, heavy-duty meds, feeding tube, maybe even isolation…"
"I can’t help it!" he interrupted, a sharp, desperate quality to his voice. I paused, suddenly wishing I could make my brain focus a little more. A soft hiccup… he was crying. I thunked my head against the wall again.
"I don’t doubt that," I said softly. "Hardly seems like something you’d be doing for fun." My hands were trembling quite a bit. In fact, it felt like my insides were trembling. I mentally cursed Anderson. What kind of fucked up drugs had he given me this time? Logically I knew he couldn’t steal the good, straight-forward narcotics all the time, they’d sure as hell notice that. But sometimes the drugs he gave me really fucked me up, and this really didn’t seem like a good time to be fucked up. Of course, the option of just not taking drugs from Anderson never even crossed my mind.
"You don’t understand!" Quatre wailed between sobs. "You can’t understand!" I blinked. I’d barely heard Quatre do more than mumble since he’d gotten here. Maybe the cubicle wall separating us was giving him some sense of security. I took a deep breath, trying to form my addled thoughts into some logical sense.
"Of course I don’t understand," I began, speaking slowly since my tongue was starting to feel as thick as a slug in my mouth. "I’m not you. Anyone tries to tell you they understand exactly how someone else feels, they’re a fucking liar! That or crazy." I giggled a little to myself. I couldn’t help it. Crazy. Fuck. "But people can have a good idea. I think. Not the docs, though. They don’t know shit!" I felt the need to wave my arms around in the air for emphasis, which seemed pointless since he couldn’t see me anyway. "Oh, you can get decent ones sometimes, like Sally, Trowa's doc. But most of them aren’t worth the paper their diplomas are printed on. But hey! Heero and Wufei and Trowa are here! They’ll look out for you, if you let them. And hell, sometimes even if you don’t let them. But they’re good guys. Real good guys. And I’m here, too. I’m such a fucking worthless crazy shit, though, so I don’t know if that gives you any comfort…" Damn, I was starting to ramble. I was so not qualified to be doing this! But Quatre’s sobs had quieted down into sniffles. If nothing else, maybe listening to me ramble was giving him time to calm down.
"You’re not worthless," he said suddenly, making me jump a little.
"Huh?" was my stunning reply.
"You’re not worthless," he repeated. "You’re trying to make me feel better. So… I don’t think you’re worthless. It’s… a nice thing to do."
I was completely thrown for a loop. I just blinked at the closed cubicle door for a moment. In all honesty, I barely remembered referring to myself as worthless sometime during my rambling. He didn’t know what he was talking about, though. The kid hadn’t even known me for twenty-four hours yet. But still, it was a nice gesture. There was a strange feeling in the pit of my gut. Swallowing back the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat, I tried to formulate some kind of coherent response. But before I could, the bathroom door slammed open. Anderson.
Before I was even aware of what I was doing, I was on my feet and standing in front of Quatre’s cubicle. The room swam alarmingly, and I thudded back against the cubicle door, flattening my arms out to either side in order to stay upright. It also looked as if I was blocking the way for Anderson. Which, I guess, I was. I glared at his slowly advancing form.
"What do you think you’re doing, Duo?" Anderson asked with a lazy smirk. I heard a small squeak from Quatre as he realized just who had joined us in the washroom.
"Back off," I snapped, glad that my tongue had decided to function properly. "He just needs a few minutes to pull himself together, and then we’ll go back to the cafeteria."
He stopped right in front of me, making it necessary for me to look up at him. Bastard was over a head taller than I was. I suddenly felt weak in the knees, and I knew it wasn’t just the drugs. Fuck, I was not afraid of this asshole! I grit my teeth, staring up at him defiantly.
"Yeah? Well, Khushrenada wants the two of you back now." He lifted a hand up, trailing it over my stomach. "I can’t keep the good doctor waiting, now can I. So the way I see it, we have a couple of options here." The hand slid up under my t-shirt, probing at bare, bruised skin. My eyes glared daggers at him, even as a whimper threatened in the back of my throat. "I can drag the two of you back, kicking and screaming if need be, and you know I can do it, or I can let him have his few minutes. The question is, how do I keep myself entertained in the meantime?"
I hated him. I hated him so much. The other hand was snaking down over the front of my jeans, groping at my crotch. I hissed in a sharp breath at the harsh contact, trying to pull away, but I was already flat up against the cubicle door. There wasn’t anywhere to go. I heard a whimper from inside. Quatre. Of course he fucking well knew what was going on. I wondered fleetingly if maybe having to listen to me being molested a few feet away from him might not be more traumatizing for him than being bodily dragged back to the cafeteria.
But there wasn’t much room left for thinking with Anderson’s hands all over me, pushing me back against the door, hurting me, always hurting me. Hot breath on my neck, lips on my skin, and I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream and rage and break things. But instead I tried to let my mind drift away. To shut down. The drugs helped. But then his hand was gripping the back of my head, and he was leaning in close to my ear.
"On your knees," he commanded, and my mind balked. No, no, no, no, NO! There was no fucking way I was getting on my knees and sucking his cock while Quatre cowered in a bathroom stall a few feet behind me. It was just not happening, and he could fucking well crack my skull open if he didn’t like it. I was saved from having to say so, though, as the bathroom door swung open yet again. Before I knew it Anderson’s hands were off me and he’d backed up a couple of steps. I blinked at the new arrival. Khushrenada. The younger one.
"Is there a problem here?" he asked evenly, giving Anderson a measuring gaze.
"No, sir. Just trying to get these two patients back to the cafeteria where they’re supposed to be, like your father asked. Maxwell’s just not… cooperating," Anderson replied with a shit-eating smirk. I blinked again. Not cooperating? I realized that it probably looked that way, like I was blocking Anderson from getting to Quatre. Which was how the whole thing had started. I was suddenly afraid that Khushrenada would say ‘Carry on then’ and leave. I shook my head frantically.
"I fucking well am cooperating! Just tell this asshole to back off. Quatre’s not going to come out if he’s here throwing his weight around." I glared at Anderson, my eyes full of venom. He glared back, eyes darkening. Fuck, I was going to pay for this later. "Quatre and I are quite willing to go back. Just get him out of here. He intimidates the poor kid all to hell." No need to add that I found him pretty fucking intimidating myself.
Treize Khushrenada slowly looked back and forth between the two of us. I knew from where he was standing he couldn’t see the way that Anderson was looking at me. But he seemed to sense something in the air anyway. Give the man a prize, he has a brain.
"Anderson, you can head on back. I’ll make sure these two get back okay," he said evenly. Relief so profound it nearly knocked me off my feet washed over me. For a moment, I was sure Anderson was going to protest, but then he seemed to think better of it. Shooting me one last dark look that promised dire things, he stalked out of the room. With him safely gone I suddenly had a severe case of the shakes.
"Are you all right?" Treize asked, frowning as he took a step forward.
"Fine. Peachy-keen," I snapped, recoiling a bit even though he was still several feet away. "C’mon, Quatre," I said, rapping on the stall door. "I know you’re not feeling the best but we really have to be getting back." Christ my hands were shaking. I nervously flicked them about, smoothing down the front of my t-shirt, tucking some stray hair behind my ears, anything to keep them in motion. I feared Quatre was going to make this even more difficult and refuse to come out or something, but to my great relief after only a few moments the toilet flushed and the cubicle was being unlocked. Quatre tentatively emerged, face pale, eyes wide, and looking decidedly traumatized, but he was upright and moving and that was good enough for me.
"Let’s go, let’s go," I said urgently, ushering him out without actually touching him. Suddenly I really wanted out of that damned bathroom. Treize stepped aside to let us pass, an unreadable expression on his face.
Back in the cafeteria, no sign of the elder Khushrenada, or of Anderson. We collapsed back into our chairs, Quatre hugging his arms to his chest, looking like he wanted to fold in on himself and disappear. He probably did. I couldn’t stop twitching. Suddenly aware of how dry my mouth was, I grabbed my glass of water and downed it.
"What the hell happened?" Wufei demanded. "We wanted to follow, but Khushrenada wouldn’t let us. He sent Anderson instead. Did he do anything?"
I started to laugh.
Heero grabbed hold of my arms, pulling me around to face him. He gave me a harsh shake.
"Duo, look at me!" he demanded. But I couldn’t. I just kept laughing, because there wasn’t anything else I could do. He shook me again, fingers digging painfully into my arms. "Snap out of it!" Laughing, laughing, laughing. Nothing at all was funny, but it wouldn’t stop, it wouldn’t stop, and I thought that at any minute the laughter might turn to sobs. "For God’s sake, Duo!" Real fear in his voice, the beginnings of real panic.
I stopped.
I stared into his face, at the open, almost vulnerable expression that seemed so out of place there. I could feel the tremors running along my body, muscles twitching, heart racing. I hated, hated, hated the creeping, crawling, dirty feeling in my skin that just couldn’t be completely banished, no matter how many drugs I took. I looked into Heero’s eyes and felt the world starting to slip away.
"I wish I was dead," I said to him, and then the room lost its focus and melted away.
TBC
* * * * * * *
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
*flees*
Amanda 02
Angst Addict
Wifey to bow ryu! ^_^
http://www.livejournal.com/users/amanda_02/
"Because I love you I want to rip you apart. I want to pile corpses
before you."
- Muraki to Tsuzuki, 'Yami no Matsuei'
"There's nothing to writing. You just sit at the keyboard and open a
vein."
"Both ways... it's the only way to swing."
"You can't commit me... who'll feed my cat?"
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