See? I updated on time (for once...). Say it with me, folks: "and the plot thickens."

Anyway, reviews as always are very much appreciated. Even if it's negative.

Watanuki didn't attempt to get out of bed the next morning, deciding he'd risk Dr Kyle's displeasure in favor of not reopening the wound in his chest. Although he'd been prepared not to eat – he certainly wasn't hungry – as darkness fell a slightly baggy-eyed Doumeki descended upon him with intent to feed, and would not leave the invalid alone in peace until he'd gotten his way. But he also brought with him some sort of wound dressing that proved next morning to be miraculously effective. The skin was raw and scabbed, but he could move (albeit stiffly) without bleeding. It was hardly the painful gouge it should have remained, despite Kyle's ministrations.

Still, Watanuki waited a day longer before returning to his usual routine. For a few more days he experienced a calm spell in which life was almost back to normal, excluding the wound that still hampered him, however less than it should have, and Doumeki who probably would never hamper him less than he already did. Kyle remained out of sight, no sudden visits were made, and Watanuki began to entertain the slightest hope one day that he'd seen the end of the matter.

As fate would have it, the doctor chose the day following this thought to show up in the room Watanuki was attempting to mop in enough time to stop for something to eat or at least drink. "I was wondering when I would find you recovered and back to work," he declared, not yet showing any displeasure that his servant had taken several days of absence without leave. "How are you feeling now?"

There was probably now right answer for that question. "Well, sensei," Watanuki replied warily.

"Excellent," the doctor said. "Tomorrow, then, I would like you to return to the same laboratory. Oh, and Watanuki?"

The boy, who'd returned quickly back to his mopping to avoid meeting Kyle's eyes and displaying his probably-white face, turned reluctantly around. The doctor smiled, though it did not meet his eyes. "This is your last warning," he stated. "Don't lie to me, Watanuki. You've been so good about honest until recently, but I cannot let this sudden development persist. See to it that it does not, and I will not be forced to intervene. I expect you to show up tomorrow with a complete change in attitude." With that, he swept from the room, leaving Watanuki behind with a fresh burst of fear and a puzzle to resolve.

What did Dr Kyle know?

--

Doumeki received a slightly edited version of events later that night, and while he did not call Watanuki on any perceived falsehoods his eyes flicked to where a hefty scar still remained. "Don't go tomorrow," he ordered, as if he had any right at all to tell people what to do. As if just saying that could sum up everything anyonenormal would have said into those two words, along with the air of superiority that accompanied everything he said. So even if Watanuki hadn't known better than to risk the consequences of such an action, the order itself would have kept Watanuki from agreeing.

"Do you have any idea what he'll do to me if I just didn't show up?" he demanded, regretting it instantaneously as he realised the opening he'd just provided.

As luck or perhaps fate would have it, Doumeki saw the opening and took it. "I don't," he replied. "You haven't told me yet." As it had whenever this topic had come up before, that not-expression crossed his face and disappeared before identification. It was beginning to worry Watanuki that he could identify it even in the dark. "Is it that much worse than what he'll do to you if you show up tomorrow?"

There was no way to respond to that statement without either admitting he was wrong or giving in to Doumeki's demands, so Watanuki said nothing and glared, hoping his message for once would be adequately conveyed.

No such luck. Hostile silence had never deterred Doumeki before, and that wasn't about to change. "Either don't go tomorrow or explain to me why you think you need to go," he said in his most inscrutable of tones. "I'm not leaving until I get an answer." As if to prove his point, he sat down between Watanuki and the door.

"You'll have to leave eventually," Watanuki said, trying to buy time. It was tempting, of course, very tempting to simply go along with Doumeki's demand and just not go. But he was no fool, regardless of the other boy's common comments to the contrary. If he were to give in to the temptation to do so, in the very best case, he would be put through a similar punishment to the one he had barely endured last time. Most likely, it would be worse. And Watanuki didn't want to think about how anything could be worse than what had already been done.

For that matter, he didn't want to think about what Kyle had already done to him. He'd had enough panic attacks to know how they were triggered in him, and also that he never wanted to go through another if he could help it. Granted, they were not as bad as what had originally caused them, but there was always the additional factor of having to tell Doumeki of all people, and allowing him to witness yet another attack.

It also occurred to Watanuki to wonder why Doumeki particularly cared that he allowed himself to be experimented upon by the doctor, but he decided that this was probably yet another entry on the list of things he'd be happier not knowing.

"You'll have to leave eventually as well," Doumeki pointed out, unaware of the other's inner turmoil. "And before me."

"I," corrected Watanuki, feeling ridiculously petty.

Doumeki smirked.

Then Watanuki realized a solution that he should have seen before. "He ruined my eye," he muttered, not because he was ashamed of the fact that he was lying but because he was trying to sound like he wasn't. Or at least nonchalant. Preferably not guilty, although that was unlikely because he wasn't feeling particularly guilty about his actions. It wasn't as if he cared that he was lying to Doumeki. And it was best that he lie, anyway, because he was avoiding both dangers this way. Better to lie than to dare Kyle's wrath. Better to lie than to remember.

"Your eye?" inquired Doumeki, sounding unconvinced – insofar as he ever sounded like anything.

"Yes, my eye!" Watanuki snapped, not having to feign the annoyance. "The blind one! How do you think it got that way? I sure as hell didn't do it!"

"Why your eye?"

Momentarily thrown from his train of thought, Watanuki hesitated. "Eh? Oh…because he needed it for something. Research."

"So he would have done it anyway?" The tone of voice did not change at all. It could have been skepticism. It could have been anything, though.

Watanuki hadn't expected to have to defend his explanation, and was forced to scramble for an answer. "But he…he wouldn't have done it to me in particular!" he retorted, forgetting himself and speaking loudly. Before he could clap his own hands to his mouth in horror, Doumeki had done the honours.

"Quietly!" he whispered in Watanuki's ear. "How did he do it?"

"Do what?" Watanuki demanded (quietly, as requested) around the hand still covering his mouth, slightly distracted by a shivering sensation moving up his spine. Normally that kind of thing was indication of the presence of spirits in the vicinity, but if what the woman had said was true, that couldn't be right. Whatever it was, he wished it would stop soon, because it really wasn't helping him think fast.

"Your eye."

"Ah – acid," he said, thankful he could supply that answer without making it up. "He –"

"Someone's outside," Doumeki cut in. His free hand moved ever so slightly to his side, and if Watanuki hadn't been right next to him he wouldn't have noticed the gesture. But as it was, Watanuki did, and his eye was drawn inexorably to a slight bulge in the other boy's shirt in a vaguely familiar shape. So Doumeki had a gun. The thought was strangely comforting.

He listened closely, and was rewarded by hearing footsteps crackling through the overgrown area about six meters from the shed. Eyes widening, he waited in utter stillness, barely daring to breathe. If whoever was out there had heard them…well, Kyle would know at least, and that was bad enough. Whoever it was might decide to take action on hir own, and that would result in a very bad situation to be in. Either way, Watanuki would be doomed.

But after about five minutes of heart-racing silence, the footsteps moved away and faded. Cautiously Watanuki opened the door and looked out; there was no one to be seen.

"Get back in here," Doumeki commanded quietly. "There could be someone else."

"I'm perfectly fine," Watanuki snapped in the same volume level. But he withdrew his head and closed the door gently behind him, and returned to where he'd been sitting before.

"You were saying before?"

Watanuki had run out of explanation, beyond description of the eye sessions which he didn't really want to give. They hadn't been too bad, really, but that wasn't the issue. Telling Doumeki about how he'd lain for hours on that table, forced to stare up while things were dripped into his right eye, was not really his idea of a comfortable situation.

"He used acid, once a day for about a week," he simplified. "And then after a week I couldn't see any more. That's all."

"That's all?" Doumeki asked, but didn't press when he didn't receive an answer. After a few minutes he spoke again. "If you're intending to go tomorrow, you should be rested."

"I know that," Watanuki retorted. "You're the one keeping me awake."

"Don't mind me, then." Instead of taking the hint and leaving, Doumeki continued to lean against the wall where he was. Refusing to let him win, Watanuki also stayed put, although his eyelids seemed to grow heavier after a while. Still, he wasn't about to fall asleep with Doumeki around. He wouldn't give him that victory. He wouldn't…he wouldn't…

Maybe he would just rest his eyes for a little. But that was it.