Behold, I am alive!

Barely.

X_x

All warnings and disclaimers still apply.

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Part 3

Returning to consciousness was like swimming my way up from the murky depths. I didn't want to. It was safe in those murky depths. Dark and warm and comforting. The waking world was too bright. Too harsh. Too sharp.

I rolled over in bed and blinked in bleary confusion at the occupant of the other bed. Then I remembered. I had a new roommate. Quatre. It looked like he was still asleep. The rapid fluttering of his eyelids revealed that he was dreaming. A frown crossed his pale features and he muttered something unintelligible. Not a pleasant dream, then. Poor kid. Thanks to Anderson's little blue pills, my own sleep had been blessedly dream-free.

I sat up blearily, wincing at the answering twinges of pain in my ribs and ass. My head felt stuffed with cotton, my mouth as dry as sandpaper. I started to reach up to rub my face but gasped at the pain that gripped my wrist. What the hell? And then an image came to mind… face pressed down onto a rough blanket… breath coming in harsh gasps… Anderson wrenching my arm up behind my back, laughing in my ear…

I shook my head, clearing it from such thoughts. Grimacing, I climbed to my feet, reaching out to steady myself against the night table as a wave of dizziness washed over me. I needed something. I needed something to make it go away. Opening the table drawer I fumbled for the small baggy of pills from Anderson. This time is was blue for downers, white for uppers. It wasn't always the same, since he couldn't always steal the same drugs. Whatever. It's not like I cared what drugs I took. As long as they made me feel different, made the bad feelings go away.

The two small white pills I shook out into my palm didn't look nearly enough, so I added a third. I eyed what was left in the bag critically. There really wasn't much, considering what Anderson had made me do to earn it. Probably only enough to last a couple of days. Then I'd have to go crawling back to him. Bastard. I nearly bent double as my stomach roiled with sudden nausea. I barely made it to the wastebasket by the door before retching. When I was finished I leaned back against the wall, panting, the three precious white pills still clutched in one hand.

Quatre murmured in his sleep again, startling me. He was grimacing, fingers white-knuckled as they gripped the sheets. I figured I should probably wake him. A glance at the clock showed that it would soon be time for breakfast any way. But there was something I had to take care of first. On unsteady feet I returned to the night table, where someone, probably Heero, had left a glass of water. I quickly gulped down the pills, rinsing some of the taste of bile from my mouth. The baggy of pills once more safely stashed away, I turned to the blonde in the other bed.

"Quatre," I said gently. "It's time to wake up."

"No…" he murmured, almost as if in response. His head tossed to the side, exposing a pale expanse of throat. Christ, the kid's skin was practically translucent. Had I not noticed it yesterday? "NO!" he suddenly yelled, causing me to jump with surprise. I repeated his name again, louder, but received no response. He whipped his head to the side again. "Please… don't…" His voice had a sharply plaintive edge to it that seemed to cut me to the bone. Suddenly feeling more urgent, I reached out and shook his shoulder roughly.

"For Christ's sake, wake up, Quatre!" I didn't want to hear that voice again. Couldn't. His eyes shot open, limbs flailing wildly. I barely avoided being struck in the face.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" he screeched, suddenly seeming to fold in on himself as he cowered back against the wall.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, Quatre, it's just me, Duo! I'm not going to hurt you!" I said as calmly as I could. He blinked at me for a few moments, recognition setting in. His body began to relax a little as he looked around the room in a daze, getting his bearings, before his eyes settled back on me.

"Are… are you okay?" he finally asked me uncertainly, an earnest look in his eyes. I raised an eyebrow, smirking humourlessly.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" I shot back, my voice sharper than I'd intended. I was so not in the mood to be answering any questions about last night, not before those little white pills had begun to work their magic. Quatre looked away, eyes downcast.

"I-I'm fine. It was just… just a bad dream," he replied, his voice small. I felt a stab of guilt. There was something about the way he was huddling on the bed, arms wrapped around his knees, that made me feel like I'd just kicked a puppy. I sighed, rubbing my face wearily, and ending up flinching as the movement once again twinged my sprained wrist. And my split lip. Fuck. It was too early in the day for this. The world was too in focus.

"Listen, they're going to ring the buzzer for breakfast soon. Get up and get dressed, 'kay?" I managed a smile at him, but I needn't have bothered, as Quatre didn't look at me, only nodded his head and moved to climb from the bed. He got some clothes and left the room, presumably headed for the washroom. Somehow it didn't surprise me that he wasn't about to change in front of me.

I decided I needed a shower before getting dressed for the day. I didn't want to think about still having Anderson's… scent on me. I quickly gathered up my stuff, including the wastebasket, and followed in Quatre's footsteps. When I returned to the room twenty minutes later, I found Quatre sitting on the edge of his bed, fully dressed, hands clasped together in his lap. Christ, didn't the kid ever relax? He looked up when I walked in, and upon seeing me clad only in the towel wrapped around my waist, he stared in open-mouthed shock at the bruising visible over my ribs for a moment before quickly turning his face away, cheeks colouring pink.

I should have cared. I should have been embarrassed. Something. Anything. But those little white pills had started doing their thing. Caring would have required too much effort. Ignoring Quatre I dropped the towel to the floor and stepped over to my dresser to pull on some underwear, a ratty pair of black jeans, and a baggy black t-shirt. I finished it off with my black combat boots. My father called it my hoodlum uniform. Prick. But there was no room for thinking about things like that with the happy white pills dancing in my brain.

After braiding my damp hair I turned back around to find Quatre with his eyes planted firmly on the ceiling, his face as red as a tomato. I couldn't help but smirk.

"It's safe," I said casually.

He smiled at me uncertainly, but followed me to the cafeteria anyway.

The whole gang was there. I wasn't sure how to deal with it. The details of the previous night were decidedly fuzzy. Other than the pain. Pain was always a constant. But fuck, how much did they know? I supposed that they at least knew about my split lip and the other bruises on my face. It was hardly possible to hide them. Fuck. I still really didn't like how they were looking at me. Like they had a right to judge me. Fuck them. My skin was crawling, hostility and anger and resentment surging up over me like a tidal wave. I paused on my way to the table, gritting my teeth and clenching my fists, forcing it down. I wasn't angry at them. They had done nothing wrong. Sometimes it was hard to remember that. The feelings packed away into a tight ball in the pit of my gut, I started forward again, vacant grin on my face to match the vacant sensation stealing over my brain.

"Cheerio," I said casually as I seated myself at the table. I swayed for a moment as the movement sent a wave of vertigo washing over me. Whoah. Maybe that third pill hadn't been the greatest idea. I started giggling. When Heero reached out and gripped my arm, I just giggled more.

"Duo!" he said sharply. "Get a hold of yourself." He didn't ask me what was wrong. Heero was no idiot, he knew what was going on. He didn't ask me if I was alright, either. He knew I wasn't.

With great effort I reigned in my case of the giggles. I wiped my face, which was feeling curiously numb, and then regarded the others with a deep sigh. Quatre was staring unabashedly. Wufei was frowning, lips pressed together into an unhappy line. Trowa regarded his breakfast tray, face blank and reserved. Heero was staring back at me with that… that intense look of his that always seemed to suck the breath from my lungs. I blinked, suddenly feeling a little more sober, and turned my attention to my unappetizing breakfast.

For awhile, we ate in an uneasy and unusual silence. The world was becoming soft and unfocused. I kept wavering in my seat, my brain unable to keep a firm grasp of the concept of 'upright'. Heero had to nudge me once when I had leaned so far to the side that I was in danger of falling out of my seat. I almost started giggling again, but Heero's sharp look quelled me. I could barely choke down any of my food. Apparently another side effect of these pills was a total loss of appetite. I quickly grew restless, fidgeting in my seat. My hands were developing a slight tremor. I noticed that I wasn't the only one not eating. Quatre's tray was completely untouched.

As if on cue, the elder Dr. Khushrenada came strolling along, pausing to peer over Quatre's shoulder at his uneaten breakfast. He made a 'tsk' noise in the back of his throat, startling Quatre and making the boy yelp in surprise. A muscle in my cheek twitched. Anger and irritation suddenly rose up, focused on that officious bastard.

"Now, Quatre, this isn't going to be a problem, is it?" the good doctor drawled condescendingly, and I was overwhelmed by the desire to wipe that fucking smirk off his face. Heero placed a hand on my arm. He knew me too damned well. Quatre ducked his head, staring down at his tightly clasped hands. Khushrenada leaned down, forcing Quatre to recoil away.

"Do I need to call an orderly over to help you?" he asked, looking meaningfully towards the main doors, where Anderson stood on duty, gazing in our direction with mild interest. He smirked when he caught my gaze. I quickly looked away, face twitching. Quatre's face had gone pure white, staring at Anderson in abject horror. His eyes flicked at me and then back to the orderly. "So?" Khushrenada prompted.

Quatre slumped, defeated. I could well imagine that he didn't want Anderson anywhere near him. With a trembling hand, he picked up his fork. Eyes squeezed shut, face grimacing, he shoveled a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. I blinked at him. Christ, it looked positively painful for the kid to eat. Two quick chews and then he swallowed, looking green around the gills. Khushrenada did not move, clearly expecting him to eat more. Hand trembling even more, Quatre choked down a couple more mouthfuls. I realized with some shock that there were tears brimming in his eyes.

"That's it, Quatre. That's a good boy," Khushrenada praised in his slick, oily voice. And that was it. Quatre suddenly bolted from the table, hand over his mouth. Khushrenada opened his mouth, probably about to order Anderson to follow him. What a disaster that would be. I shot to my feet, just barely managing not to fall over.

"That's okay, doc, I've got it!" I yelled, my voice a tad shrill, before taking off after Quatre.

It wasn't hard to guess where he was going. I slowed to a halt outside the washroom door, taking a moment for the vertigo to pass. Quietly, I stepped inside. The sounds of retching could be heard coming from the last stall. Stopping in front of it, I leaned back against the wall and slid down until I was sitting on the floor, parallel to the stall. I could see the treads of Quatre's white sneakers under the door. I leaned my head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling while the room swam a little bit around me, waiting as Quatre went about the business of being sick. Finally, the retching noises stopped. I could see under the door that he had sat back on his heels. The soft 'thunk' noise led me to believe that he was resting his head against the seat.

"I'm not going to do anything as lame as ask you if you're okay," I said. My voice was only a little slurred from the drugs. Bonus. I heard him shift a little, and then there was a harsh, slightly hysterical chuckle.

"Gee, thanks," he replied. I sighed, playing with a loose thread on my jeans.

"You're going to have to get used to the docs making you do stuff you don't want to do. You don't need me to tell you that it's only going to lead to bad things if you keep… this up. Privilege restrictions, heavy-duty meds, feeding tube, maybe even isolation…"

"I can't help it!" he interrupted, a sharp, desperate quality to his voice. I paused, suddenly wishing I could make my brain focus a little more. A soft hiccup… he was crying. I thunked my head against the wall again.

"I don't doubt that," I said softly. "Hardly seems like something you'd be doing for fun." My hands were trembling quite a bit. In fact, it felt like my insides were trembling. I mentally cursed Anderson. What kind of fucked up drugs had he given me this time? Logically I knew he couldn't steal the good, straight-forward narcotics all the time, they'd sure as hell notice that. But sometimes the drugs he gave me really fucked me up, and this really didn't seem like a good time to be fucked up. Of course, the option of just not taking drugs from Anderson never even crossed my mind.

"You don't understand!" Quatre wailed between sobs. "You can't understand!" I blinked. I'd barely heard Quatre do more than mumble since he'd gotten here. Maybe the cubicle wall separating us was giving him some sense of security. I took a deep breath, trying to form my addled thoughts into some logical sense.

"Of course I don't understand," I began, speaking slowly since my tongue was starting to feel as thick as a slug in my mouth. "I'm not you. Anyone tries to tell you they understand exactly how someone else feels, they're a fucking liar! That or crazy." I giggled a little to myself. I couldn't help it. Crazy. Fuck. "But people can have a good idea. I think. Not the docs, though. They don't know shit!" I felt the need to wave my arms around in the air for emphasis, which seemed pointless since he couldn't see me anyway. "Oh, you can get decent ones sometimes, like Sally, Trowa's doc. But most of them aren't worth the paper their diplomas are printed on. But hey! Heero and Wufei and Trowa are here! They'll look out for you, if you let them. And hell, sometimes even if you don't let them. But they're good guys. Real good guys. And I'm here, too. I'm such a fucking worthless crazy shit, though, so I don't know if that gives you any comfort…" Damn, I was starting to ramble. I was so not qualified to be doing this! But Quatre's sobs had quieted down into sniffles. If nothing else, maybe listening to me ramble was giving him time to calm down.

"You're not worthless," he said suddenly, making me jump a little.

"Huh?" was my stunning reply.

"You're not worthless," he repeated. "You're trying to make me feel better. So… I don't think you're worthless. It's… a nice thing to do."

I was completely thrown for a loop. I just blinked at the closed cubicle door for a moment. In all honesty, I barely remembered referring to myself as worthless sometime during my rambling. He didn't know what he was talking about, though. The kid hadn't even known me for twenty-four hours yet. But still, it was a nice gesture. There was a strange feeling in the pit of my gut. Swallowing back the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat, I tried to formulate some kind of coherent response. But before I could, the bathroom door slammed open. Anderson.

Before I was even aware of what I was doing, I was on my feet and standing in front of Quatre's cubicle. The room swam alarmingly, and I thudded back against the cubicle door, flattening my arms out to either side in order to stay upright. It also looked as if I was blocking the way for Anderson. Which, I guess, I was. I glared at his slowly advancing form.

"What do you think you're doing, Duo?" Anderson asked with a lazy smirk. I heard a small squeak from Quatre as he realized just who had joined us in the washroom.

"Back off," I snapped, glad that my tongue had decided to function properly. "He just needs a few minutes to pull himself together, and then we'll go back to the cafeteria."

He stopped right in front of me, making it necessary for me to look up at him. Bastard was over a head taller than I was. I suddenly felt weak in the knees, and I knew it wasn't just the drugs. Fuck, I was not afraid of this asshole! I grit my teeth, staring up at him defiantly.

"Yeah? Well, Khushrenada wants the two of you back now." He lifted a hand up, trailing it over my stomach. "I can't keep the good doctor waiting, now can I. So the way I see it, we have a couple of options here." The hand slid up under my t-shirt, probing at bare, bruised skin. My eyes glared daggers at him, even as a whimper threatened in the back of my throat. "I can drag the two of you back, kicking and screaming if need be, and you know I can do it, or I can let him have his few minutes. The question is, how do I keep myself entertained in the meantime?"

I hated him. I hated him so much. The other hand was snaking down over the front of my jeans, groping at my crotch. I hissed in a sharp breath at the harsh contact, trying to pull away, but I was already flat up against the cubicle door. There wasn't anywhere to go. I heard a whimper from inside. Quatre. Of course he fucking well knew what was going on. I wondered fleetingly if maybe having to listen to me being molested a few feet away from him might not be more traumatizing for him than being bodily dragged back to the cafeteria.

But there wasn't much room left for thinking with Anderson's hands all over me, pushing me back against the door, hurting me, always hurting me. Hot breath on my neck, lips on my skin, and I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream and rage and break things. But instead I tried to let my mind drift away. To shut down. The drugs helped. But then his hand was gripping the back of my head, and he was leaning in close to my ear.

"On your knees," he commanded, and my mind balked. No, no, no, no, NO! There was no fucking way I was getting on my knees and sucking his cock while Quatre cowered in a bathroom stall a few feet behind me. It was just not happening, and he could fucking well crack my skull open if he didn't like it. I was saved from having to say so, though, as the bathroom door swung open yet again. Before I knew it Anderson's hands were off me and he'd backed up a couple of steps. I blinked at the new arrival. Khushrenada. The younger one.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked evenly, giving Anderson a measuring gaze.

"No, sir. Just trying to get these two patients back to the cafeteria where they're supposed to be, like your father asked. Maxwell's just not… cooperating," Anderson replied with a shit-eating smirk. I blinked again. Not cooperating? I realized that it probably looked that way, like I was blocking Anderson from getting to Quatre. Which was how the whole thing had started. I was suddenly afraid that Khushrenada would say 'Carry on then' and leave. I shook my head frantically.

"I fucking well am cooperating! Just tell this asshole to back off. Quatre's not going to come out if he's here throwing his weight around." I glared at Anderson, my eyes full of venom. He glared back, eyes darkening. Fuck, I was going to pay for this later. "Quatre and I are quite willing to go back. Just get him out of here. He intimidates the poor kid all to hell." No need to add that I found him pretty fucking intimidating myself.

Treize Khushrenada slowly looked back and forth between the two of us. I knew from where he was standing he couldn't see the way that Anderson was looking at me. But he seemed to sense something in the air anyway. Give the man a prize, he has a brain.

"Anderson, you can head on back. I'll make sure these two get back okay," he said evenly. Relief so profound it nearly knocked me off my feet washed over me. For a moment, I was sure Anderson was going to protest, but then he seemed to think better of it. Shooting me one last dark look that promised dire things, he stalked out of the room. With him safely gone I suddenly had a severe case of the shakes.

"Are you all right?" Treize asked, frowning as he took a step forward.

"Fine. Peachy-keen," I snapped, recoiling a bit even though he was still several feet away. "C'mon, Quatre," I said, rapping on the stall door. "I know you're not feeling the best but we really have to be getting back." Christ my hands were shaking. I nervously flicked them about, smoothing down the front of my t-shirt, tucking some stray hair behind my ears, anything to keep them in motion. I feared Quatre was going to make this even more difficult and refuse to come out or something, but to my great relief after only a few moments the toilet flushed and the cubicle was being unlocked. Quatre tentatively emerged, face pale, eyes wide, and looking decidedly traumatized, but he was upright and moving and that was good enough for me.

"Let's go, let's go," I said urgently, ushering him out without actually touching him. Suddenly I really wanted out of that damned bathroom. Treize stepped aside to let us pass, an unreadable expression on his face.

Back in the cafeteria, no sign of the elder Khushrenada, or of Anderson. We collapsed back into our chairs, Quatre hugging his arms to his chest, looking like he wanted to fold in on himself and disappear. He probably did. I couldn't stop twitching. Suddenly aware of how dry my mouth was, I grabbed my glass of water and downed it.

"What the hell happened?" Wufei demanded. "We wanted to follow, but Khushrenada wouldn't let us. He sent Anderson instead. Did he do anything?"

I started to laugh.

Heero grabbed hold of my arms, pulling me around to face him. He gave me a harsh shake.

"Duo, look at me!" he demanded. But I couldn't. I just kept laughing, because there wasn't anything else I could do. He shook me again, fingers digging painfully into my arms. "Snap out of it!" Laughing, laughing, laughing. Nothing at all was funny, but it wouldn't stop, it wouldn't stop, and I thought that at any minute the laughter might turn to sobs. "For God's sake, Duo!" Real fear in his voice, the beginnings of real panic.

I stopped.

I stared into his face, at the open, almost vulnerable expression that seemed so out of place there. I could feel the tremors running along my body, muscles twitching, heart racing. I hated, hated, hated the creeping, crawling, dirty feeling in my skin that just couldn't be completely banished, no matter how many drugs I took. I looked into Heero's eyes and felt the world starting to slip away.

"I wish I was dead," I said to him, and then the room lost its focus and melted away.

TBC

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