Pre-Deathwish. "Healing" sequel. Reading "Healing" immediately prior is likely helpful. Cal wakes up thinking it is his brother beside him. Turns out its Robin, & now Cal must deal with the consequence of the mistaken identity. M for language, M/M, squick.

Title: Recovery

Author: ThirstySatyr

Rating: M, for language, violence, mild m/m sexuality, and squick content

Chapter 1/10: Thanking the Academy

Standard Disclaimer: Not mine. Rob Thurman's.

Note: This story takes places pre-Thurman's Deathwish, completely ignoring the canon therein. Reading my other Leandros-fic, Healing, immediately before this would likely be helpful.

Also of note: Due to some extremely eloquent and adamant insistence from people both on FF(dot)net and off, I've decided to actually post the second half of Healing. I have a big thing about trying to keep my fan fiction within the possible realm of cannon, which was why I originally hesitated to post this. Additionally, due to the events of Deathwish¸ my timing is a little odd. My apologies to those who keep track of such things.

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Robin was watching me, a slow growing horror filling his bright green eyes.

"No..."

Try as I might, that was all I could force out. Even injured, even drugged, I should have known. My lips pressed to his, seeking a strength so familiar, I should have known. Not Niko; not my brother. God damned fucking hell, I should have known.

Robin just kept looking at me, so clearly trying to figure out what was going wrong. Did he realize? Did he understand the awful, horrible mistake I'd made? Could he understand?

"Cal," the puck reached a hand out to me, bridging the expanse of bed between our bodies. Naked, unclothed, disrobed bodies. I was naked. With Robin. Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

"No," was all I could get past my shock.

"Caliban, please," Robin tried again, moving minutely closer to me.

Like a shot I was off the bed, backing away like the expert I was. My injured ankle wobbled underneath me and I felt some stitches in my back give, but ignored it all. This was bad; so much more than bad. The room came to me in flashes, and it took a second to figure out where I was. Promise's apartment, the guest room down the hall from the master bedroom. That meant Promise, and very likely my brother, was just down the hall.

This was so much more than bad.

"No, no. God no..." the words kept rushing out of me, and my head refused to come up with anything more coherent. Then Robin got up off the bed, and my brain stopped entirely.

"Caliban, please," he spoke quietly, like soothing an animal. "Let's just sit down... and talk... Just talk. Please."

He took a small step toward me, trying to get around the bed in the most non-threatening way possible. "Please, Cal. You're bleeding again. Just... let me take a look at your back. Please..."

I was moving for the door so fast, I felt dizzy. I needed to escape, needed to find some room to think. My comfort zone was in a whole fucking other state, and I just couldn't deal with this right now.

Then I stopped, and the world went painfully still. Standing in the hall, looking back into the depth of her room, with her long nude back to me, was Promise.

"What am I supposed to think, Niko?" Promise's voice was as close to shrill as I'd ever heard, stressed and brittle. The usually smooth lines of her face were twisted around eyes that couldn't decide to be hurt or horrified. "You reach for me... you touch me, and react like something is missing! What should I think?"

I must have made some sort of sound, because her twilight eyes suddenly swung to me. The hurt and horror mixed for a brief moment, only to be swallowed by shock. I could just image what she was seeing. Me, sleep tousled, flushed, and dripping blood onto her vanilla carpet. Oh, and naked. Mustn't forget the naked. I couldn't imagine how this could get much worse.

I took a moment to wish St Murphy didn't take such glee in proving me wrong.

Both Niko and Robin hit the hallway at the same time, both talking in not-so soothing voices.

"Promise, please. Its not..."

"Caliban, please. Just come back..."

Both voices stopped abruptly, as observant eyes took in everything. And there we stood, four people naked as a lark and none of us happy about it. I could feel the tension growing, waiting for the just the wrong thing to ignite. The explosion was going to be spectacular.

"No," my voice crawled out of me. I really was too fond of that word.

I felt three sets of eyes lock on me - green, lavender, and mirror gray - and I knew with a clarity that hurt that I had to fix this. If I didn't fix this, the destruction I'd been so happy to avoid with Darkling would break on us like am avalanche.

Using the tension like a smokescreen I turned to Robin, catching him with eyes I hoped were as crazed as they needed to be.

"No!" my voice came again, screaming this time.

Then I was on the puck, attacking like my life depended on it. It took a moment for Promise and Niko to react, and I was grateful for it. I wanted to give Robin a chance to gather his senses, give him a chance to defend himself. 'Cause I wasn't planning on stopping.

I chased him deeper into the room, back toward the bed area. The puck made it through the forier with remarkable speed, but I stayed with him. He was lagging slightly, trying to look at me, trying to understand what was hapening. If I could find a way, I'd thank him for that later; he was my friend and he wanted to figure out who was more in danger, him or me. It was sweet, really.

I knocked him to the ground when we reached the main part of the room, careful to angle his fall onto the pile of disrupted blankets. It may have been a growl that escaped me, ringing through the room as I leapt for him again. I heard Niko and Promise enter the room, not far behind us. But once in they froze, both still too shocked to react.

My knees found purchase on either side of the puck's torso, careful to sit high on his ribs... but not too high. I so didn't need to go there again... I struck at Robin with wild, uncontrolled blows, grateful for his sense of self preservation. Nearly every strike was carefully deflected; he didn't want to hurt me, but he wasn't going to let me hurt him either.

And all the while, I screamed. "No! No, I won't let you! Won't! Won't!" Every flailing strike I punctuated with another shout, "Won't! Let! You! Can't! Have! Him!"

I had never been a good actor; a good liar, maybe, but acting always seemed just out of my reach. Right now, I needed to be good. Fuck, I needed to be great. So I poured everything I had into each seemingly mindless blow. Reaching down into the depths of my fuzzy memories, I found a crazed darkness and welcomed it. I let it fill me up, cover me, and pull me under. And much faster than I was happy with, I wasn't acting anymore. Where my knees touched the floor, my skin remembered sand like broken glass. With every ragged breath I took, I could taste rot and violent death. And with every sound that escaped me, I could hear the insanity wrapping tighter around my mind. And I let it. I needed each and every one of them to see me, stark raving out of my mind, and look away from what was real. I needed them to believe the lie; so I gave them the truth.

"No more! No more! No! More! Of! Me! No brothers! No monsters! No more!" I screamed it until I tasted blood at the back of my mouth. I was loosing myself, yielding to the monster, succumbing to the void. I wasn't going to come back from this; who was I fooling, thinking I could use this, this… madness as if it were a tool. As if I would have control, as if I could just turn it off. But if they believed, if I could make them look away, then at least it might be worth it…

Through the haze of descending insanity I barely felt the electric pain that shot across the top of my head. Then, rather suddenly, I was flying, and the room flashed in a blur past my vision. The hand propelling me by the grip in my hair abruptly released and I had only a moment to wonder if my back would leave blood stains on Promise's lovely wall. My vision steadied in stages, and my brother's eyes were there, snaring all my awareness.

He looked scared. And, like every other time that look was in his eyes, it was my fault. But as much as I wanted to make the fear go away, the madness still rode me.

"No! You can't have him!" the scream exploded out of me and I began to thrash wildly. My brother was as adept at avoiding my flailing blows as Robin; but my brother had none of the puck's qualms. I let it go; after all, black and blue were good colours for me. Uninvited panic screamed through my veins when he caught my wrists, pressing them to the floor. I struggled mindlessly against his grip, kicking, thrashing, and desperately trying to hold still. The press of his body sent terrifying mixed signals through me, letting me know I wasn't going anywhere. Conflicting instincts tore at the inside of my head; on the surface, the madness I'd so stupidly invited still held sway, letting me know that I was about to die (can't escape…must escape…). Yet in the depth of me, I knew, with out a doubt, that this was my brother and that by some miracle we were both alive (its Niko…stop fighting… its Niko…).

"Cal!" my brother's voice reached me through the haze of instinct and logic, and the madness paused like it had been slapped.

"Cal! Cal, damn it! God; Cal, listen to me. You aren't there any more. We aren't there any more." His eyes were cautious as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine, "They don't have me, little brother. They don't have either of us…You found me…"

The suddenly silent room rang with his quiet words, and I felt the insanity that was holding me down give way. Jesus fucking Christ that was stupid; my deep down crazies weren't something convenient to switch on and off when I wanted to use them. No, they were something to fight back with every ounce of my will… something that would gleefully eat me alive if I ever tried something this idiotic again.

But, like every time before, my brother had saved me. I let that knowledge clear the last of the distance from my eyes.

"Niko…" his name was almost a question. And if I lied to myself and pretended that I didn't sound like a lost five-year-old, no one had to know it but me.

It took about ten minutes to re-bandage my back, wipe my blood from the wall, and find comfortable robes for all the naked people. The vicodin that Robin had cautiously handed me once we all hit the dinning room was a long ways from taking effect, and I was struggling to keep from growling at the laps. The coffee that Promise had put in front of me, an apologetic smile soft on her face, was working a bit faster.

Everyone had scattered once it was decided that I wasn't about to slip back into bat-shit-crazy, each moving to something that might clear the "Cal almost lost it again" taste from their minds. I let it go. So long as I drove that accusing look from Promise's eyes, I didn't mind. So long as she didn't look at me and wonder about Niko…

"I'm so sorry Niko… I…" Promise's voice floated quietly from the deep in the kitchen, so hushed that I probably shouldn't have been able to hear her. Tumulus did that to me though; sharpened all the animal senses that your instincts need to stay alive. I probably should have distracted myself, been polite and left her to the privacy she was trying for. Should have, but didn't.

"I don't mean to forget," she continued, her voice thick with apologies. "I know how close you are. I don't mean to forget. You're so close, so connected. You knew… Niko, you knew something was wrong. Not with me. With Cal. You knew, and I… I assumed. I made a stupid mistake. Again. I'm so sorry…"

The hushed bass of my brother's voice wasn't nearly as clear, but a part of me knew what he must be saying.

I'd done it. I might not be able to act, but damned if I couldn't lie. And Promise believed the lie. I closed my eyes and let my head settle on the cherry dinning table, a deep sign rushing quietly out of my lungs.

I'd like to thank the academy…