Behold, part seven! This, ladies and gents...or just ladies...is the most action-packed chapter yet! Given the complete lack of action, that isn't really saying much, but it's very exciting! You'll pass out just from reading it! (not guaranteed; results may vary)

Warnings: Implied sex, some bad language (as if you're not used to that by now) and lots of medical vocabulary. Otherwise pretty tame though, so no need to worry. And now...the review replies! I notice the considerable increase in reviews after that lemon...coincidence? I think not.

Garnet-Crystals: I am? Phew, that's good to know - him being OOC was my biggest reservation, so I'm glad you think he's still in-character.

Seto's Nice Girl: We shall see, my dear, we shall see...

Coco Gash Jirachi: JUICE AND POPTARTS! Yay. Yep, Aster is named after a flower, Sartorious is named after a leg-muscle, Syrus is named after a folktale fairy-king (sexual innuendo!), and...hey, who's the one named after a cut?

PinsAndButtons: Heh, talk about irony.

Sandaa: I figured Chazz would seem like the sort of person who'd never, ever admit to crying. You thought it was that good? Wow, thanks! Your comments really brighten up my day :) But, um, about the picture thing...I didn't receive anything! You'll have to try emailing it to me instead.

T: Hm, good point - I've researched mental illness enough, but not really psychiatrics themselves...oh, and thank you for reviewing Monochrome! that makes me so happy!

The Goddess Azure Thunder: Um...okay...

Littlest-Angel: omg I am, liek, ttly shwing u teh luv...argh, net-speak makes my brain hurt. Eh...29 might be a little young, but I never pictured Adams as old (funnily enough, he resembles Seto Kaiba, but with different hair) since I didn't want your stereotyped pervert. Although he is a pervert, and a rapist, since Chazz is 15 in this fic (and also, sadly, a virgin). I'm glad you liked Polly! She's kind of Jaden-esque, isn't she? What with being so happy and all...and you'll have to find out what happens next!

XxAnimeFelinexX: Ah, well you'll have to wait and see, won't you? Although you should be able to figure it out if you read the previous chapter carefully...

I do own yugioh GX, I do! Oh wait...no I don't...

Delirium, part seven (Eschewal)

"You haven't been eating," Adams remarks.

I say nothing. Almost a week later and here I sit in the familiar office, staring down at my knuckles whilst Adams watches me patiently. The sound of the grandfather clock fills the room: tick tock tick tock tick-

"You do realise attendance for meals is compulsory?" He continues softly, "But you've been hiding in your room instead of going to the cafeteria. Why?"

-tock tick tock tick tock-

"Chazz," He says, firmer this time, "Please tell me why you haven't been eating."

"Not hungry," I mumble at last.

"You haven't touched food in three days, you must be hungry," He reminds me, "You need to eat, Chazz, otherwise you'll get sick," He pauses, "Do you want to get sick?"

I gaze at the floor determinedly, studying the red carpet. Red. Red lips. Red on white. Red on Slade. Red everywhere-

"You were already underweight when you came here, Chazz; missing meals could prove very hazardous to your health," Adams interrupts my thoughts, "You know what'll happen then, don't you? I'll have to register you as anorexic, and then someone will have to supervise your mealtimes. You don't want to be treated like a child, do you?"

I shake my head soundlessly, gazing at the clock; the swinging pendulum catches the light whenever it swings towards the window, and creates a rythm of sound: tick tock tick tock tickety tock tock tockety tick tick tickety tock tock tockety tick-

"-Chazz?" I feel cold hands clasp my face and tear my vision away from the clock to meet Adams' blue and slightly concerned gaze as he leans over his paper-littered desk.

"...What?" I mumble tiredly.

He shakes his head; "Semi-comatose state again. It sometimes occurs before a hallucination...did you see anything?"

"I...clock...thing..." I say, feeling slightly dizzy. Was the clock...singing to me? But clocks don't sing...do they? Some alarm clocks sing...Ojama Yellow sings every morning loud enough to wake the dead, never mind just me...where is Ojama Yellow anyway? And Black and Green and Blue and - wait, there wasn't an Ojama Blue...

"Do you need more medication?"

My head snaps up; Ojama Blue disappears abruptly. Medication...I know what he's offering, what he wants...

"I'm still sore," I'm telling him no, not another exchange, not now, not ever-

"After a week?" He raises an eyebrow, "I suppose you have a frail build...but no matter, there are other methods of bargaining."

"There are?" I perk up. Maybe I can get my drugs without losing my dignity in the process... "How?"

"Well, come over here for a start."

I get up from my seat slowly, cautiously. I wasn't exactly lying about my back being sore - it does hurt, especially if I move too fast. Carefully, I make my way over to him; his eyes follow me the entire time.

"Good...now, get onto your knees..."

My eyes widen in shock; I stumble back and dull pain flares through the bottom of my spine, "N-no!" I cry at once. I think even Jaden could figure out what he wants me to do. And I won't do it - I can't do it!

"Now now, Chazz, it won't be that bad," Adams assures me, "You'll get the hang of it soon enough."

"I won't!" I shake my head rapidly, shake those horrible images from my head, "I won't do it! I won't!"

"You're getting hysterical, Chazz," He replies calmly, "That behaviour will land you back in the maximum security cell."

"Son of a bitch," I say hoarsely, vision blurring, throat closing - not crying! "I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you..."

"In that case I'll get the straightjacket ready-"

"Wait!" I cry. He pauses half-arisen from his chair:

"Hm? Changed your mind already?"

I don't say anything.

"As I thought. Let's begin, shall we?" He relaxes back into his chair. I swallow the lump forming in my throat, and descend to my knees.

I shake my head; "I don't want to."

The male nurse sitting opposite me sighs, "I'm afraid it's mandatory, Mr Princeton. You need to eat it all."

"But..." I stare at the plate of food in front of me. Registered as an anorexic with a supervisor at mealtimes. But I'm not anorexic! I'm just...not very hungry, that's all.

"You can't leave until you eat it," The nurse says firmly. I sigh and pick up a drooping sandwich. All this fuss over nothing...I only skipped a few meals, it's not like I'm deliberately starving myself...

I take the first bite. Hmph, too much cheese. And it's that nasty processed cheese that tastes like mouldy plastic - can plastic even go mouldy? Who cares, that's what it tastes like. Well how do you know? What? I said how do you know it tastes like mouldy plastic? It just does, alright?! That's not a very good explanation-

"I don't want to eat anymore," I put the sandwich down.

"You have to eat, your weight is low enough as it is," The nurse tells me, "Why don't you try something else?"

I grumble and pick up the green apple, cringing when I've taken a bite out of it - too sweet! I chew slowly, swallow down, take another bite. My stomach churns uncomfortably - after four days of not eating, it isn't used to food, even if it's only a few bites.

"By the way," The male nurse speaks, watching me swallow a second bite, "Adams wanted to see you later today."

I freeze, eyes widened. Drop the apple. It bounces on the table and rolls off the edge.

"Mr Princeton?" The nurse frowns, "Are you alright?"

"I'm going to-" Stomach heaves, body lurches forward. I manage to twist my head to the side in time to miss the table as stomach empties itself onto the floor.

"What happened?" The nurse stands up, the gasps when he sees me, "W-wait right here, I'll go get help," He dashes off. I try to stand up, but everything spins crazily, becoming a blur of colour. Where am I? What's going on? Who are you? Who am I? I topple sideways, landing on the floor with a splash. Splash? There's liquid here...barely-digested apple and cheese sandwich. And...something white...swirls around like strands of silk.

"What-" I try to say, but my stomach lurches again, onto the floor. Ugh, no talking. Talking bad...my heart flutters weakly in my chest: tick tock tick tock tickety tock tock tockety tick tick tickety tock tock tockety tick-

Would you look at that, my hand is blue.

Hands wrap around me, pulling me off the floor, jostling my body painfully. I try to fight them - no, don't take me there, I don't want to go! - but I'm too weak. Shouting, right in my ear, head hurting, ow ow ow ow-

"What happened?" A familiar voice, sharp and snappy, contrast to the usual serenity.

"H-he just threw up, so I ran to get help-"

"How long was he left alone for?"

"A few minutes, I think-"

"Idiot, he could have died in those few minutes. What's his symptoms?"

"Hypotension: blood pressure is 80 over 40," Another voice, unrecognised, "Hyperventilation and cyanotic skin."

"He's gone into shock, then. Luckily it's not refractory...get an IV tube, he needs fluids. Keep him warm - do we have an electric blanket?"

There's a sensation in my right arm - not painful, just...there. Footsteps scurry around, distant voices, orders. Then...warmth. Ah, that's nice. That's very nice.

"You, keep his legs lifted up. Is his air passageway clear? Good, get an oxygen mask on him, make sure he can breathe as freely as possible. How's his blood pressure?"

"Increased to 90 over 50; it's still low, but it's an improvement. He still looks pretty pale though..."

"That's his natural skintone - an improvement from grey anyhow," A hand touches my chest, "Breathing is stable...he seems to be over the worst of it. I'll take care of things from here."

"Yes, Dr Adams." Footsteps, multiple people leaving the room. Someone lets out a sigh of relief and I feel the mattress sag slightly with the weight of a second person.

"Chazz? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

"Don' wanna..." I mumble, trying to stay in dreams of white and red silk, but waking up regardless. I open my eyes blearily, see the hazy face of Adams in front of me, "Oh. You."

"Nice to know I'm loved," He shakes his head, "I suppose you'll want to know what happened? You went into shock a while back and had to be brought here, the emergency room. You'll need to remain here until your condition is stable."

"Shock...why...?" I manage to say, jaw feeling oddly slack.

"A mixture of things. Firstly not eating - I did tell you skipping meals could damage your health," He looks at me disapprovingly, "That and fatigue - I take it you haven't been sleeping so well either - stress and hypotension."

"Hypo...what?"

"Hypotension - low blood pressure. It's a side effect of the medication you take, haloperidol. Although it's not normally this severe...but then, you're taking above the maximum recommended dosage. I'll assume that was the main factor for the shock."

I try to move my left arm - and can't, only a dull tingling. Panicked, I try to move my right arm; it obediently pulls out from underneath the warm blanket only to reveal-

"Holy fuck, my arm is blue!" I say. Or try to say, but the words come out more slurred than a drunkard. Adams sees me staring at my gray-blue hand and catches on, however.

"Yes, that's a symptom of shock, caused by lack of blood; it'll retain it's normal colour shortly. You might find your limbs paralysed or difficult to move as well - it's only temporary. We managed to halt the shock before any lasting damage was done, so no worries," He brushes back a few strands of hair stuck to my clammy forehead, "How do you feel, Chazz?"

"Tired...dizzy...ick," I get out, too exhausted to protest the fact that he's touching me.

"I thought so. Just try to get some rest for now, I'll be back later to see how you're doing," He stands up and walks to the doorway, pausing before he exits, "Oh, and I'll mix your haloperidol with some high blood pressure-inducing drugs; that way you shouldn't have any major health risks come our next exchange."

There's terror at those last words: next exchange? So he isn't going to...give up? Give me a break, at least? He'll just carry on as normal?

The thought makes me want to throw up again.

"Please take better care of yourself in the future; next time you might not be so lucky. Shock is a very serious occurrence after all," His eyes bore into my own with startling cerulean intensity before he turns and leaves with the words: "Adieu, Mr Princeton."

So now he's gone, and I'm alone.

The first thing I try to do is sit up; nausea swamps my senses and my arms tremble and give way so that I flop back down. I blink a few times to clear the spots from my vision, heart pounding painfully in my chest, corresponding with the beeping machine next to me.

'Next exchange...'

I can't take this anymore. It's...too much. As long as I stay here, Adams will keep doing this to me again and again until either he gets bored or I break in two. And at the moment, I'm pretty close to breaking; I was sane before I came here, now I'm not so sure. I need to get out of here before I completely lose my mind.

I have to escape, I have to.

We warned you to leave earlier, say the walls, so unfamiliar, I haven't heard them in so long... We told you this would happen. You did not listen.

"I know," I shake my head, "I'm listening now. How do I escape from here?"

Use the vents.

"Ah, the classic escape route. Just so long as I don't get sprayed with red this time," I try to sit up again, slower this time; in the space of a few minutes I eased myself upright. Now just to swing my legs off the side of the bed and-

-Ow. Face-first on the floor with a painful thud, legs sprawled uselessly behind me. Fuck, why won't my legs work? They're still tinged with blue...still under the effects of shock, I guess. But I can't let that stop me! I need to escape no matter what!

Clutching the IV stand for support, I haul myself onto my wavering feet, taking in slow, steady breaths. The heart monitor shows my increased pulse; I tear the rounded pads off my chest and the machine falls silent. There's a ventilation grate positioned high up on the wall above my bed - if I can balance on the headboard, maybe I can reach it...

I climb onto the bed unsteadily, weight pressed against the wall. The IV stand drags noisily behind me, so I rip out the needle - ow that stings! - and let it roll away. Shaking hands rise up to unscrew the metal grid, which squeaks rustily and comes undone. Climbing onto the bed frame, I gain enough height to grip the sides and pull myself up. the strain on my injured wrist is enough to make me gasp, but I persevere and soon I'm inside the metallic tunnel.

"Oh yes, The Chazz has done it again," I whisper, and begin pulling myself forwards with my arms. It's by no means easy - my legs drag heavily behind me, and the metal and mostly-bare skin cause unpleasant friction - but at snail's pace I crawl through. I soon pass another barred opening and glance through to see the white corridor, a few patients and nurses strolling about. They can't see me...they could hear me though, so I had best be quiet. After all, if anyone figures out I've escaped, the whole place will be in uproar and I'll be caught faster than you can say Ojama.

I inch along silently, turning corners with ease, glancing out of all the vents to keep track of where I'm going. And eventually I arrive at...just outside the emergency room. What?! Did I just come full circle?! You've got to be kidding me-

All the lights go out.

A shriek very nearly - nearly, I said - tears from my throat, but I clap a hand over my mouth, forcing silence. Of course, it must be 9:00 PM - curfew. Not necessarily a bad thing, since everyone will be in their rooms instead of in the corridor. However, I hear footsteps coming down the darkened corridor, and lay still for fear of being heard. The door to the emergency room is opened.

"...Chazz?" Says that azure voice.

Go! Scream the walls.

And boy, do I go. My limbs flail as I attempt to crawl away at maximum speed with minimum noise, and all I can think is: I have to escape, I have to escape, I have to escape, I have to escape...

"He's not here," I hear Adams say, sounding slightly baffled, and then: "Security!"

The alarm is raised - it's only a matter of time before they check the vents - I have to get out of here!

Please, please, please, please - I mouth it over and over again like a mantra as the footsteps of guards scurry below me. God, why did Adams have to visit my room then? And after curfew...was he there for another exchange?! I just went into shock for crying out loud! Is that man insatiable?!

"Initiate lockdown; he can't be allowed to escape," I hear Adams' voice almost directly underneath me, causing me to freeze.

"Isn't that a little too much-"

"For God's sake, he's underweight, hypotensive and recovering from shock! If he gets outside, he could die!"

Yeah, or tell the world what he's been doing to me - that must be the reason he's so panicked. Ha, me dying. As if. I re-start my struggle through the vents, plouging forwards with a renewed sense of desperation. And then...and then...

A dead end.

"No!" I cry, as all my energy seeps away into exhaustion. This is it...I tried to escape, but I couldn't, and now I'm trapped. Someone will find me, I'll be thrown straight back into the maximum security cell, and it'll be a living hell from there. With frustrated fury, I clash my fist against the metal floor of the vent...

...Only for it to groan and give way, leading me to fall down with a yelp and land in a cloud id dust. Ah, I landed on my injured wrists...fuck that hurts, ow, ow, ow...where am I? Some sort of basement, walls painted a bleak grey and lined with lockers numbered 1562, 1563, 1564...

Waitaminute.

I dash over to locker 4021 and cautiously open it; inside is a dusty black jacket, faded black jeans, a purple turtleneck sweater and brown shoes. Clothing. My clothing. this...this must be where they keep everyone's belongings until they're released! And they have my stuff!

...Or had my stuff, heh heh. I reach for the pile of clothing, only to hear they scraping sound of a key in a lock. Swearing silently, I shut the door and hide behind some nearby boxes just as the door opens.

"Anybody down here?" The gruff voice of a guard calls. I duck as a narrow beam of torchlight swings in my direction, just missing the top of my hair.

"Well? Is he down there?" Adams' voice - geez, is this guy following me or something?

"I don't know..."

"Well go and look," The guard descends the dirty steps followed by the worried-looking doctor. Adams flicks a light switch, and dim light flickers from a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"Keep searching over there, I'm going to check his locker," He strides up to the rows of numbered lockers and - sweetholyfuckinglord, he's standing metres away from me, opening the 4021 locker. Please don't let him see me, don't let him see me...

"His stuff is still here - so he can't have come down here, otherwise he would have taken it," Adams remarks, and I thank whoever's up there that I didn't take the stuff from my locker before I hid. Adams' closes the lockers and begins searching the area and ohfuckhe'sgoingtofindme...

"No, no...nothing," Adams steps back from the boxes I'm hiding behind; I resist the urge to sigh in relief. It's a wonder he hasn't seen me though, since I'm kind of hard to miss...

Wait...

Of course, I'm covered in dust! When I fell onto the floor I got coated head to toe in dust and cobwebs...heck, I must be virtually invisible here!

"There's nothing down here. Let's keep searching upstairs," Adams says, making his way back towards the staircase. The guard with the flashlight does another fruitless sweep, then flicks off the light switch and heads upstairs. I wait until I hear the lock click and the footsteps thud away before letting out a slow, shaky breath. I grip the boxes as I haul myself to my feet, trying to stand on trembling legs.

All this adventure is going to be the death of me.

I proceed unsteadily back to the lockers - my legs are still sluggish and slow, but at least I can walk on them. I take the clothing from my locker, relishing in the scent of familiarity...and dust, apparently, that coat needs a trip to the laundry...

Closing the locker, I pick my way through the room, away from the set of stairs; the door's locked and even if I broke it down, I'd be caught in seconds. There has to be a second way out of here...

And I see it. A small, grimy window, letting in only the most meager amount of light through the dust-coated glass. No-one else would have even noticed it, but to me...it has the word FREEDOM scrawled all over it. This is it...my escape route...

I climb awkwardly onto a flimsy shelf, reaching out to open the window. It takes a few rough shoves, but eventually it swings open, leaving a gap just big enough for me to worm my way through. I get stuck about half way trough - and they said I was too thin - but after twisting a little, I fall out of the window and down the other side, landing more or less in a tangled heap of limbs. Just as well no-one can see me...

It's cold, is the first thing I notice. It's very, very cold...my breath mists in front of my face and my teeth chatter like dice. A sudden gust of cold wind seeps into my skin and causes me to shiver. Figures, I would have to escape in the middle of winter...I take a step forwards, the icy ground bites into bare feet - that does it, I'm putting my shoes on. The rest of my clothes will have to wait until later...now to continue with my daring escape:

I turn around the corner, see a field of flat concrete patrolled my frantic guards, tall watchtowers with searching spotlights - and after all that, a barbed wire fence with lethal-looking edges.

Now how the hell am I going to get past all this...?

Hm, a good question - how is Chazz going to get past all this? Review and wait patiently for the next chapter to find out...Oh, and for all those who didn't understand the medical lingo, here's a brief summary:

Shock - you should all know what this is...a life-threatening medical state caused by lack of oxygen to parts of the body.

Hypotension - low blood-pressure, which is associated with shock. Chazz's blood pressure was 80 over 40, which is below average.

Hyperventilation - rapid breathing as the body tries to absorb more oxygen into the system.

Cyanotic - the greyish-blue tone skin colour takes when in shock.

Refractory - shock comes in four loosely-based stages; refractory is the final stage, when the body is beyond help, leading to coma and imminent death.

I did a lot of research into shock and hypotension for this, so it should be written accurately...did you think it was okay? Be sure to tell me what you thought!