The next morning Chuck and Kurt were on their way to get Neil out of the hospital. Kurt began to talk to the doctor while Chuck went to Neil's room. They had again fixed his arms. Chuck had to force himself to remain calm. He opened the straps. Neil opened his eyes.
"You don't need this." Chuck told him. It was visible that Neil was on strong medication. Kurt had told him that only then they could get Neil out there without problems. Otherwise Neil wouldn't let them help him they wouldn't be able to get too close to him. But with this quantity of drugs he wouldn't be able to recognize what was going on. Chuck didn't like making use of his son's helplessness, but he had to, if he wanted to help, if he wanted to free his son from his demons.
Chuck through cloths onto the bed.
"Put these on." he said in a strong voice. Neil looked questioning at his father. He had no idea what was going on, but he wasn't able to think about it.
"Come on." Chuck kept on.
Neil just looked at his father, but did as he told him. He was afraid that he could fly into rage again. Maybe he would hurt him if he didn't do how he was told as he has done all the times before.
Chuck had to help him. He wasn't able to stand on his own, without losing balance. Seeing his son stunned like that made Chuck angry. How could these people tell him they were helping his son? They only fed him with drugs, but this didn't solve his problems. That was what he needed, someone who figured out, what he was suffering from and then help him to find a solution.
The doctor stormed into the room. "You can't take him home!" he screamed.
"Sorry Chuck, I wasn't able to convince him." Kurt apologized.
"Oh, yes I can and if I were you I wouldn't try to stop me!" Chuck answered in a strong, military voice.
"But you are no psychologist. You have no idea how to treat him."
"And you don't do either. If you'd know what is really wrong with him, you wouldn't feed him with medication, but try to help him!" with these words Chuck forced his way through the door with his son. Neil was too weak to walk on his own. Kurt and Chuck had to help him. Neil didn't recognized what was going on. Everything was wrapped into an obscure vial.
When they got home Chuck and Kurt brought Neil into his room and lay him onto his bed. He was completely faded away. Chuck put a blanket over Neil, who was shivering. His body was cold. Kurt told him that his circulation was impeded by the medication, it could last a bit, until Neil was sober again. It also might be that he could get some withdrawal symptoms, because he must have been on hard drugs. For Chuck all this didn't sound good. He saw the bruises on his son's arm, where they must have grabbed him to inject him the drugs forcibly. He saw several blue and purple injection marks. But worse of all were the thin, long scars on his wrists. Why hasn't he been able to prevent this? Why hasn't he seen it coming? His and Paige's worse fear had become true; one of their sons had lost his path. They had known that it could happen, but they haven't intervened. They never had thought about why Neil began to hate himself that much that for him dead was the only solution. Today Chuck knew why. Neil had begun to struggle. Struggle to hide who he was. When he was the little undemanding boy, who was a straight A-student, never made problems, nobody paid attention to him. There was no need for. When he turned out to be a problem child taking drugs and alcohol, instead of going to school, they only tried to correct these mistakes with punishment, not recognizing that this was the penalty for not helping and supporting him, when he had needed them most. And when he again turned into the genius, he always had been they reproached him with it. If they just once had shown him that being a bit different from the rest was okay, Neil would have been able to cope with his situation. But that way, he only was confirmed in his thought he had to hide himself.
Neil woke up in the evening with a bad headache. He was confused to find himself in his room. What has happened? Had it just been one of those horrible nightmares after a party with bad shit? But a striking pain in his knee and his stomach reminded him of the fact that all had been real. Panic arose inside of him. How did he come here again? Where was his brother, would he come back again to torture him? What about his father? Although if his brother wouldn't be there. His father still would. Who knew what he would do to him, after Neil had damaged his life? He would punish him, as usual. He would do as he had done always when Neil had messed up something, with the only difference that Neil now had messed up his father's life for ever and he wouldn't be able to repair it. Again he remembered the slowly steps coming towards his room. He always had known what the meant. Yep, Neil had crashed and burnt and his father let him feel that even after Neil had managed to get up onto his feet again on his own. That was when Neil recognized that he never could be what he was, because he always would be wrong. He was like a red rag to a bull. He began to feel nauseous. He ran to the bathroom and began to throw up. It hurt in his stomach, but he couldn't suppress it. After his stomach was calm again, he rinsed out his mouth with cold water.
"Neil?" he could hear his father's voice. No, not him, he thought, went back to his room and tried to hide on his bed, by rolling up into a ball. He wanted to blank out his father's existence. The door opened. He shrugged. It was his father he wasn't able to blank him out. He would be everywhere every time. Neil got up of his bed as fast as he could, but he had problems with his knee what made it hard for him to stand and he felt dizzy. Again he felt panic. He didn't want to see his father. He only would try to hurt him, for what had happened.
Chuck came closer to Neil. He saw fear and panic in his son's eyes. "Hey, how do you feel?" he asked carefully.
"Who cares?" Neil hissed back.
Chuck hadn't expected another reaction from his son. "Do you need something?" he stayed calm, although it was hard to do so.
"I don't." Neil's voice was frozen.
"Okay." Chuck wanted to touch his son, but Neil stepped back "Step away." he warned his father. Chuck went back. No, this won't be easy, but it had to be done. This was the only way he could win back his son's confidence.
When Chuck was gone Neil began being all over a tremble. He had to get out of this house, out of his father's nearness. He tried to open a window, but it was locked. He was sure that he would freak out if he had to stay longer. He had to wait until his father was gone to bed then he had a chance to escape.
Chuck sat in the kitchen with his sister. She had arrived a few hours after he had brought Neil home.
"You had no success?" she asked in her warm voice.
"Nope, he doesn't trust me and he has all reason to." Chuck became thoughtful. He raked his brain for a solution but there was nothing.
"It sounds as if there had been more than just this liar-thing." she knew her brother so she was able to see, when he hide something, but this situation wasn't a proper one for hiding things. If he wanted her to help he had to show his hands.
"Well discerned Mrs. Watson." he answered shortly. He looked into her eyes and understood that this answer wasn't satisfying to her. He had to tell her. He would feel relieved if he could share this burden. The problem was how would she react?
"There was a time, where …" how should he go on? Just go on, he thought.
"Neil had…" no, it wasn't fair to start with Neil. He had to start with himself.
"I had a lot of work and Paige in somehow was overtaxed with me, with the household and so on and then as this wasn't enough Neil's drug and alcohol excesses became worse and worse and then…" Chuck left out that this all had happened in another timeline, in a time in which Paige was still alive and Marc had pushed off, because he wasn't able to bear the pressure they had put onto his shoulders.
"We weren't able to build up a relationship of confidence with him. We didn't pay attention to him, no wonder that he turned out like that one day. I mean, we never have seen what a genius he is. I can't imagine what an agony it must have been for him not being supported that way he needed to be. It was because… we never had time for him, sent him to summer camps, instead of taking him with us. It just wasn't the right time for him and than when the problems began we were arguing with him, yelling and screaming at him, instead of searching for the reason.… I wasn't better than Dad sometimes I guess I've been even worse. And then I began to tell him that he was the wrong son." Now it was out. Okay, not the whole truth, but he couldn't tell his sister about the time travel and that this had happened after Marc had pushed off. Chuck still felt sorry for what he had done, but he has had no control then. He wasn't thinking about what he was saying. While he was thinking about all this, he remembered that this night it hasn't been the last one he told Neil that he was the wrong one. Oh my God, what have I done, was the only though in his head.
"You did what?" Jenny asked confused as if she wasn't sure if she had understood what her brother had said a few seconds ago.
"I reacted like Dad reacted when he lost patience with me. I just started ignoring him, pretending as if he's not existing and when it became worse with him he got to feel that. I let him feel that he wasn't more than a troublesome burden. We just weren't able to cope with him." he sighed and buried his face in his hands.
"O my God, that's really no good basis for a relationship."
"I never told him that I was sorry, we never told him that. I don't think that he forgot about it and I can understand when he still takes it amiss. Eventually we blamed him for our mistakes. I'm sure if we'd only paid more attention to him, it all would have been easier for all of us." he had the feeling as if he suffered by this more than Neil had done. Recognizing that he was as a lousy father as his father had been - even worse - made him anxious. What had been with his ideals? Why had he always said that he would be better than him? And why hasn't he been able to be better?
Jenny took his hands and looked into his eyes "Then it's up to you to show him that you're really sorry about it."
"I know, but that's what makes the whole thing so complicated."
"He's refusing you as you were refusing Dad. I can only appeal to you not to make the same mistake our Dad has done. Don't let him go off with his hate. It wouldn't do you or Neil any good."
It was the first time she spoke about the past and it was the first time she didn't blame him for the mess between him and his father, but blamed his father for his behaviour. He noticed that he always had thought of him being the reason for it, not his father. His sister now was the first person who told him that it hadn't been his entire fault and it was a relieving feeling.
It was late at night. Neil hadn't been able to sleep again. Fear and panic kept him far away from sleep. After he had heard his father coming upstairs but not going down stairs, he was sure that he now was able to escape from his prison. Carefully he went down stairs. He had to, because his knee still was hurting badly. When he had finished half of the stairs he saw that there still was a light in the kitchen. He wanted to go back. He would do everything not to see his father; he would do everything to avoid his father's nearness.
"Is it you Neil?" Neil heard a familiar female voice asking. He was turning back and there she was.
"Jenny, what are you doing here?" he couldn't think about a reason why his aunt should be here now. His father couldn't be the reason they both hated each other like cat and dog.
"Your Dad asked me to come and help him a bit."
Okay, that really wasn't what Neil would have thought of. His father must have been despaired if he asked his sister for help.
"Do you want a tea? I think you're allowed to drink green tea." she smiled at him.
"Umm…" he hesitated. He had no excuse ready.
"Come on!" she wanted to touch his hand, but he avoided her. Nobody was supposed to come that close to him. It was too easy to hurt him then. He refused to come with her, but he also wasn't able to go back into his room.
"Hey, I'm not going to leave you like this." she kept on in her quiet voice. She looked into his eyes, he immediately drooped his glance towards the floor. There was no way to get out of this. Without a word he followed her into the kitchen.
After he had taken the first sip of tea he felt how the warmth spread through his body. Now he realized that he felt ice cold. He took the cup tight into his hands.
"How do you feel?" she asked him. She hasn't lost her warm voice.
"Don't know." this was the best way to keep everything hide.
Jenny threw a look onto the scar on his wrist. Seeing this, made the whole situation more serious as it seemed at the beginning. It made this so real, what frightened her a bit. Nobody ever had thought of Neil being such vulnerable that he would find such a solution for his problems.
"Why do you refuse everybody?" she kept on.
"I don't do that. I'm just not the Everybody's-Darling-Type." he didn't want her to look through him.
"Then you and your Dad have something in common." she laughed.
Neil didn't answer to this statement. Inwardly he wished that he and his father had nothing in common.
"You know that he really feels sorry about that he hadn't believed you?"
"Yeah, it's okay." he began to feel bad. He must try to get out of this.
"If you know, why do you still refuse him? Is it because he ignored you, as if you weren't existent? Is it because he told you, you were the wrong son? Is this why you don't trust him?" she dug deeper and deeper into his soul. It began to hurt. He had to stop this.
"Don't you think you have enough own problems to solve before you start with me?" with these words he stood up and went into his room. He wanted to lock the door, but the key was gone.
He sat down on his bed. What should he do now? He was completely in his father's mercy now. Fear began eating up his soul. He wouldn't sit in this mess, if he had died that was for sure. Everybody could have lived in peace. For all pain and damage he had caused he didn't deserve anything better. Fear changed into painful guilt. It had all been his fault. It was his fault that all tried to hurt him. No this was what he deserved. It was his fault that his father had been shot. Always he could have been the one who could have prevented everything, but he did nothing instead of running away. He felt how his inside began to break more and more and he couldn't do anything against it. He had to find a solution out of this mess. He had to repair what he had damaged. Guilt again changed into fear. Fear that they would begin to hurt him more and more, that they would try to get him down until he was shattered, until there was nothing left of him. Fear changed into guilt, guilt that he was the one who started the ball rolling, and now he had to carry the can for it. He had to force himself to maintain composure. With every single thought, with every single feeling it was as if wasn't able to hold up right his shell. He didn't realized how long he was sitting on his bed like that. He didn't realize the light penetrating through his window. Maybe he didn't want to realize this. He didn't want to realize that another day of guilt and fear had started.
The door opened and his Dad came in. Neil turned his face away. He felt too ashamed to look into his father's face.
"As I see, you didn't sleep." Chuck began a conversation. He sat onto the other side of the bed, so he wouldn't frighten his son again, like had done last evening.
Neil didn't answer. He wasn't supposed to answer after all what he had done.
"Okay, I'm honest. I don't know how to get the secrets out of you, without you recognizing it. So I'd better ask what your problem is. Maybe you can tell me without any psyche games." Chuck hoped that being honest would help his son to trust him again. But nothing.
Neil didn't answer. That was what his father wanted. He wanted him to humiliate himself. His father was trying to hurt him the worse way he could think off. He wanted to torture him. He wanted that guilt dug into his soul like a knife. Wasn't it enough that Neil was aware of what he had done? Wasn't it enough that he had to live with the thought of guilt through his whole life?
"Neil please, talk to me" Chuck nearly began to beg "I really want to know what goes on inside of you, but I can't if you're not talking to me."
From one to another second Neil jumped onto his feet, what he regretted immediately after the pain in his knee became worse, but he kept straight face.
"What do you want to know? That it was my fault that Mum died? That it was my fault that Marc found the wrong persons? That it was my fault that you've been shot? What else do you wanna know?" he screamed into his fathers face. He wouldn't let his father hurt him again. To Neil it was clear that he had done a lot of mistakes. He didn't need his father to tell him that.
Chuck now understood that Kurt had been right. But how could he convince his son from something better?
"That's not true."
"Shut up." Neil answered. He didn't understand what his father wanted to aim at.
"Neil, this all wasn't your fault. I know that and you should do as well." Chuck tried to remain calm, what wasn't that easy, because Neil was close to get him into rage again with his indifference. He got up.
"Neil, Mum's death isn't your fault. It had been these freaks and you know that, you had been there. And nobody could have known that Marc would become a part of the Cadre. We all thought he had no idea about all this, so why do you have known better? Why should you have been the one, pretending his change? He was my son and it had been my duty to watch him, not yours." He tried to explain his son, why he wasn't the one to blame for. He started an attempt to get closer to Neil, but he failed.
"Come on Neil. Stop blaming yourself for something which wasn't in your hand."
"Stop talking about things, you don't understand." Neil stepped back to avoid his father. He was afraid of his father nearness.
"Neil…" but his son cut into his sentence. "What do you want?" his voice was cutting and cold. A sign for Chuck that Neil wasn't himself anymore that he was freaked out completely. He switched from one mood to another in one and the same second. That was what made the whole thing that dangerous, because nobody could predict how Neil would react in the next second.
"Neil I want to help you, but I can't if you reject every attempt." he had to stay calm. So he swallowed down his anger and his rage.
"You want to help me?" Neil asked in a cheapened voice. "You never helped me, so why now?" Neil understood what his father had up to his mind, but he won't give him a chance to do so.
"Maybe because now it's time to do so?" Chuck answered.
Neil turned away from him. "Do you know what you really want? You want to see me shatter, to get your proof that I always would be the looser, the screwed up and good for nothing, less worth than dirt, but I won't allow you to do so. I won't allow you to worship Marc at my expenses." his voice was calm again. Again this sign for Chuck that Neil wasn't himself. He was staggering from one mood to another, from cold calculating to sarcasm. Normally Neil would stay calm and treat him with contempt or he would leave him or Neil would give him a piece of his mind, but he wouldn't react that confused.
Chuck decided it was better to leave him. It wasn't because he was afraid of Neil. It was because he had no control of this situation. He couldn't predict what would happen. Neil has become a ticking time bomb with the only difference that nobody could say when he would explode.
After Chuck was gone, Neil began to hate himself. For what he was, for what he had done. He meant pain for all people around him. That's why he didn't want his father in his near. He meant damage to all he knew that's why he tried to avoid his aunt. He didn't want to destroy her life as he had destroyed his father's life and that's why all wanted to hurt him more and more. But now they had a reason they hadn't had before all what has happened, after he missed his way. This feeling gnawed at him until it became unbearable. They had taken his razorblade away, but he had hid another one, nobody had found. He began to cut. But no matter how often and how deep, the hate inside increased and became stronger and stronger. No matter how much blood poured out of the wounds, his soul wasn't satisfied.