Author's Note: Hiya hiya hiya, gang…just wanted to let you know I'll be headed out to the beach on June 17th until the 25th, so ah…try not to play too rough in the fandom whilst I am gone, allrighty? Anywho…it's about time for an update, don't you think?

7

"I can't…I can't…"

There I was with one of several new decent human beings that had suddenly appeared in my life, and I found myself completely unable to talk to her. My own misery had already seen to that. I could barely swallow without my eyes watering, and so also could I not say a single word without feeling the sobs catch in my throat.

What was wrong with me?

This wasn't natural, because it was happening much too quickly. This shouldn't have happened at all until at least two months from now, long after I had gotten back on my feet, reached my normal weight, and finally gotten my life back into some sensible form of order. This shouldn't have happened, period, because the group I'd once gone out every night with insisted that we all behave like men, and not worry or weep like little girls. Instead, I was malnourished, trapped in a hospital bed with no chance of escape, holding on to a complete female stranger…and crying. It didn't take a simple favor like a free glass of water to get me started this time. All she had to do was pull me down to her level and, against my better judgment, my eyes and my throat joined forces to finally let the waterworks loose.

"Oh, yes you can…just let it out. You'll feel better afterwards, I promise."

Feel better? Easy for her to say. She was in the prime position to get stabbed in the back in every way imaginable. A meaner malchick would have done exactly that, and maybe also torn a giant hole in the back of her clothes so that he could get them off easily right before raping her. Why did she have to go and be so careless with her own safety? She wasn't a doctor. She wasn't a therapist. She wasn't even one of those special nurse practitioners that could switch between stethoscopes and lowering bedrails. There was no logical or ethical reason for her to do any of this, because whatever this was, it was doomed to fail any second now.

Except…except it wasn't failing at all. My eyes stung, my throat ached, and my heart felt like an iron weight inside of me…but I still allowed myself to weep, and made no attempts whatsoever to hold anything back. This girl knew absolutely nothing about me save for my name and how I'd come to be at Greg's house, but she still insisted on holding my face against her shoulder like…like I'd somehow turned into a child, and she the mother.

"…I can't do this anymore!"

"You can't do what anymore, Pete?"

"All…all of this, Green. I can't keep wandering around alone and fighting by myself and…and not know if I'm gonna live or die every night or—or not letting anybody else know until…until…"

"Sh-h-h-h."

She was running a hand through my hair now, an act I found to be both comforting and maddening. Had I been worried about moving things forward too quickly? She was the one who had to get up close and personal instead, leaving me blameless and nervous at the same time. Didn't she know how to keep her hands to herself?

On the other hand…all this isolation had clearly put a crack in my rasoodock, a crack I had no idea how to mend or fill up again until it healed. Was it really so hard for me to get close to someone else now? Had I become so distrusting that I wanted nothing to do with anyone, even when their intentions were one hundred percent honorable? The answers were much too painful for me to imagine. Did all of this nightly activity turn me into a hollow shell somewhere back outside, leaving me useless and unable to show my feelings to someone? I didn't want to be that sort of person any more, if I had indeed become just that. I wanted to be normal again. I wanted to be me.

"You don't have to keep wandering around alone if you don't want to, silly. Would you like to hear a little secret?"

On the other hand…my eyes were wet, my hands trembling, my body choking on my own pain…and all because she'd suggested it. No—because she'd encouraged it. Was it better for me not to hold everything in any longer? Was I fretting over nothing, and would I truly feel better once I'd let out a few more tears? It bothered me that I couldn't figure this complex problem out as fast as I'd hoped to. I was the one who had been expected to see all the details as my gang's lookout, and now I couldn't even see inside myself to find out what was happening to me. Was she filling in for me in this regard? Somewhere inside, a part of me wished it were so. If it hadn't been for her, I might never have let this pain out at all, let alone spoken up better to the others once she'd walked into the white room. Was it really so bad to vent after all, especially around her…?

"A…a what?"

"A secret," Georgina repeated, still stroking my hair as though to calm me down even more.

"Like I said, you can stop wandering right now if you really want to. I know a way you can stop. Greg himself suggested it to me right before I left for this place."

Whatever I was about to say, it halted in my throat before I could let it out. Suddenly I felt numb and a little heavy, like someone had tied invisible weights to my arms and legs to keep me from going anywhere. I could still think, though, and all I could think was, 'Oh, please, not this again!' I was in danger of falling into old habits. There was no other word or sentence for it, because I was one step away from sentencing myself to another round of submission and obeying without question.

"Greg has an idea, eh?" I heard myself rasp. "Does it involve bringing me into your little gang without any background checks as to who I am?"

Now it was Georgina's turn to be nervous, because she pulled away enough for me to see the fearful look in her dark eyes.

"What do you mean, Pete?"

"Why no questions? Why no metal detectors? Why no policemen…or policewomen, even? Did you even look to see if I was armed or not?"

"Because you were unwell, and you needed our help, that's why," she answered me flatly, even though I could hear that telltale waver in her voice.

"As to whether you were armed or not…well, whatever weapons you did have are probably still at Greg's house. You left your other clothes there, remember?"

A small pang of guilt struck me at that moment. I did remember leaving my old things there, which also meant that I had just shown anger towards this girl for no reason. By giving me a change of clothes and not telling me where they put everything else, these four strangers had just kept a giant fight from happening. There was no question who the enemy was here, of course, and that made my guilt sting a little bit worse.

"So…so then…you don't think I'm a threat? I could still grab you; try to pin you down somewhere…"

"…And you'd see me hitting the emergency button to call the staff," Georgina countered, the frightened waver fading from her voice. "You'd be outnumbered four to one in minutes. There! What do you think of me now?"

There was a hard-edged look in her eyes now, an expression that told me flat out, 'You can't get rid of me that easily. I came here to help you, and I'm going to help you no matter what happens to me in the end.' It was more than enough to make my own resolve shatter to pieces before her. Instead of fighting her physically or verbally, all I could do now was falter and pray that she wouldn't change her mind.

"I'm a manipulative trickster, aren't I?" I sniffled, wiping my eyes dry and waiting for her words of rejection. "I shouldn't be agreeing to go anywhere with you all; we barely know each other—"

"—Not even as a favor?" she pressed, reaching down to stroke the back of my hand with her thumb.

"Is it just a favor, or did I pressure you into this with…with my bad behavior, or something? Are you sure I'm not playing you into sympathizing with me?"

I didn't trust myself with the way I was acting. Come to think of it, I probably would not trust myself for quite a while, even if I was on the mend and could think a bit clearer than usual. There was always that chance something could go wrong with me and against someone else, and so I would have loved nothing better than to withdraw until I was sure it was safe for other people to get close to me. That did not seem to stop Georgina in her tracks, however, for she went on stroking the back of my hand and smiling as though to reassure me.

"I don't know," she said quietly, glancing off into space. "I mean, Greg said you might have some physical and mental issues to work out, so there are always those…you didn't like the idea of leaving your mother alone either, remember? Causing trouble just doesn't sound like your—"

She suddenly went silent as three knocks sounded upon my hospital room door.

"Who do you think is out there?" I asked, but not without gingerly touching the back of one of her hands in return.

"That just might be your Em with the presents," she told me, pulling away from me and standing up. "I think it's time to celebrate the season now."