To say that it had been a rough morning had been an understatement. Izaya looked across the expanse of his bed at the pill bottle that had sat beside his pillow since he was twelve. He mentally tried to go through his night to see if he could remember if he had taken them, but no memories of anything beyond three AM came forward.

He mustn't have, because his pills normally kept him asleep through out the night – unless the sickness had just gotten that much stronger. He had felt this low spell coming on for a couple days, and he had hoped that he would be able to keep himself from letting it get this bad. He had thought that it would never get this bad again.

Izaya flinched and pressed his back flat against the wall as he swore that he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He kept his eye trained on the spot as he did his best to level his breathing out. He was almost ready to relax when he felt a tingle at the back of his neck. He spun his gaze around immediately. He had been paying too much attention to the one spot on the wall that he had neglected the rest of the room, and all of the other hiding spots in it.

Izaya slowly leaned across the bed and snatched his phone off of the bed side table. He winced as his back crashed against the wall again, but at least he knew that nothing had managed to sneak behind him.

"You're being ridiculous. You know nothing is there," he muttered to himself.

But what if there is?

"You're being stupid."

What if it comes through the wall?

At the thought Izaya leapt away from the wall. He sat in the middle of his bed, breathing heavily. If only he had put his bed against the shorter wall of his room, he wouldn't make himself dizzy with worry. He would have to remember that for when he got here. Where was he anyway, it had been half an hour since Izaya had texted the monster that he needed help.

Why do you even care if something gets you? You want to die anyway.

Izaya felt tears start to stream down his face. He wasn't sad. He wasn't frustrated. He didn't feel anything besides fear lately. Sometimes the oaf was able to make him feel something similar to excitement – sometimes something close to love – but never a feeling stronger than the fear.

His phone dinged in his lap and he picked it up slowly. It was Shizuo.

S-H: I'm here.

I-O: Get your ass up here now.

S-H: The door man won't let me in.

Fuck.

Izaya picked up the phone and gingerly dialed the number for the door man.

"Let the fucking man up right now," Izaya yelled into the phone and hung up.

Izaya remained crouched in the center of his bed even after he heard a knock on his apartment door.

"Just get your ass in here," Izaya yelled down the stairs. He wasn't confident enough to leave his bed yet.

Izaya could hear Shizuo muttering as he walked up the stairs and towards the dark-haired boy's bedroom. When the taller man walked in he was muttering something about no one needing a fuck this badly, but his words got caught in his throat when he laid eyes on the other man.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Izaya responded with as much dignity as he could.

"It doesn't look like nothings wrong," Shizuo said as he stepped closer to the smaller boy. "Are you sick?"

"No, and don't touch me," Izaya demanded.

"Then what's up with your face?" Shizuo asked as he knelt down and grabbed Izaya's chin so that he could get a better look at it.

Shizuo's normally welcoming warm hands felt like fire against his skin. Izaya was literally afraid that they might burn him if Shizuo held on too long. Izaya closed his eyes as he felt the panic raising in his throat. He felt tears start to streak his face again as he swore that Shizuo's hands literally turned into fire.

"This was a mistake. You need to go," Izaya stated in a strangled voice.

"You called me here for a reason. At least tell me what's wrong, damn it."

"Nothing, just go."

"Bullshit."

This made Izaya snap. Bullshit? Bullshit? No one, not even god, was allowed to tell Izaya that what he was saying was bullshit. He had to be speaking the truth, he couldn't be crazy.

"So, what do you want to hear?" Izaya demanded as he started to shake. "That I have an incurable disease? One that my best hope is to live in remission of, but still always have the label attached to my name? One I have been living with fine since I was twelve. One that everyone and every goddamn song trivializes and makes people like me who actually suffer from it sound like petty little whiners. Do you want to hear that I'm crazy?"

"I just want you to tell me what the fuck is going on," Shizuo shot back, acting as frustrated as Izaya was angry.

"I have goddamn bipolar," Izaya spat out.

"So, you get moody sometimes, everyone already knew that," Shizuo shrugged. "Is that it?"

Izaya bit his tongue. Of course, Shizuo would be like everyone else. Why would he think that the brute would be any different from the rest of the world?

"Yeah, I guess it makes me moody," Izaya spat, as a small amount of blood flew out of his mouth with his words.

Fuck, he hadn't meant to bite down that hard.

"Well, then there's more to it, so tell me," Shizuo demanded as he came to sit next to Izaya on the bed.

Izaya shut his mouth. He wasn't prepared for Shizuo to want to get into it. Though, he guesses he should have because Shizuo was one of the few people that Izaya couldn't figure out. Izaya looked up at Shizuo with fear shining brightly in his eyes. If he told Shizuo how crazy he really was, there was a chance that Shizuo wouldn't talk to him anymore. There was a chance that Shizuo would think that their little games weren't actually games. There was a chance that Shizuo wouldn't love him anymore.

"I can't tell you," Izaya stated.

"You have to, damn it," Shizuo growled. "How am I supposed to take care of you if I don't know what I'm working with?"

Take care of? Is he going to kill me?

"Take care of?" Izaya muttered, trying to find the real meaning behind the phrase.

"Yeah, like make you feel better and shit," Shizuo mumbled as a blush spread across his face.

"I told you it wasn't curable, right?"

"I don't give a damn, you can at least feel better some days, even if most of them are crappy. So just tell me about the goddamn thing."

Izaya took a deep breath. He wasn't sure that he was ready for this. The monsters usually picked on him more when he talked about them.

He took a quick glance around the room. Everything seemed to be staying still, so he guessed that he was okay for the time being. So, he decided that it would be okay.

"You know that bipolar comes with mood swings and lots of changing your mind, right? Everyone knows that," Izaya started and took Shizuo's stern nod of his head as confirmation that he was dumbing things down enough for the oaf.

"Well, there's another part of the sickness that people don't talk about. They don't want it talked about because it means more crazy people in the world, and that's exactly what this world doesn't need. Well bipolar isn't labelled under a mood disorder like depression, or mania – it's a mental disorder, a psychosis."

"So, what does that mean?" Shizuo interjected.

"It means I belong in the fucking loony bin," Izaya yelled. "It means I see and hear things. And not only do I stay in bed all day because I want to die, but I do those things because I'm literally too scared to get out of bed – which only makes me want to die more."

"So, when did all this start?" Shizuo asked tentatively. You could literally see the wheels turning in his head.

"I can't remember a time that it wasn't happening. But they diagnosed me at twelve. They don't normally diagnose people until they're out of their teens, but I was an extreme case," Izaya stated.

"That's bullshit," the blonde muttered as his fists clenched.

Izaya clenched his jaw – of course Shizuo wouldn't understand.

"If people are sick they should be able to get help, not be told they're too young to be sick," the venom in Shizuo's voice was almost as socking as the direction that the words were pointed towards. "I hate those stupid doctors. You know, they tried the same shit with Kasuka. He was depressed when we were young, and the stupid doctors wouldn't do shit for him because it 'was probably just hormones.' What bull crap. Yeah it was hormones, and they were fucking messed up hormones."

Izaya watched in awe as his best friend blew smoke at the sheets and gripped them like they were the throats of the doctors who left a small boy to fend for himself.

"I'm sorry that he had to go through that," Izaya sighed, as the voice in his head started to belittle his own problems again. At least he had gotten the help that he needed.

"Egh, he's all fixed up with shit now, we managed," Shizuo shrugged. "Isn't half as bad as your shit. Must've been pretty bad for them to tell you when you were so young."

"Hah, thought my mother was a shape shifter, had a couple doctors literally laugh in my face out of shock," Izaya laughed.

"Having me throw shit at you must be bad for your health," Shizuo sighed. "Sorry."

Izaya burst out laughing. How could this stupid, loveable lug of a man next to him think he was the problem. He was literally the only thing that keeps the problem at bay.

"You better not go easy on me now, now that would ruin the fun," Izaya stated.

"Don't worry flea, I'm not going treat you any different," Shizuo said. He said it like it was supposed to be a joke, but Izaya could feel the reassuring tone that lurked under the surface. Shizuo still felt the same, and he wasn't going to treat Izaya like a freak. Nothing was going to change.

"So, some of us have to work for a living, so why did you call me here?" Shizuo asked as he stood up and stretched.

Izaya blushed. Now what he had needed help with seemed stupid and inappropriate.

"Come on, just spill it out, damn it."

"The shower scares me, and I can't leave bed."

"Why?"

"Scared of shit grabbing me from where I can't see."

"So, you want me to stand guard while you shower?"

Izaya nodded as his face turned beat red.

"Alright, let's get this shit over and done with."

With that, Shizuo picked Izaya up and carried him to the washroom. Shizuo's presence didn't make all of the worries go away, but it did give him another brain to count on – because he sure as hell couldn't count on his own right then.

So, this is a topic that is very close to home for me. I, along with many of my family members have this illness. It's not a fun disease and many people and forms of media do trivialize it. The fact that it has a psychotic element to it is a little known fact that I feel needs to have some light shed on it. Yes, not everyone experiences it to this extent, but no mental illness effects two people the same because no two brains are the same. If you are going to say anything against what I have written about the disease, or are going to say that this is not an accurate portrayal, I would like to ask you to please take your misinformation and shove it up your ass.

PP