Dementia

by Keden Lust- former porcelain d

A/U! Hitomi is sent to an insane asylum and meets an albino named Scratch and a girl called Lena. Who or what is Gaea? What do their strange dreams mean? And will they be able to find out in time to save each other from the demons in their past?

2. Part 2

I hear your voice, it's like an angel sighing

I have no choice, I hear your voice

Feels like flying

I close my eyes, Oh God I think I'm falling

Out of the sky, I close my eyes

Heaven help me

-Madonna

Hitomi stood in the crowded doorway, squeezed between Scratch, Lena, Dune, Jan and Lily, all six of them waving furiously at the retreating vehicle. Open Invites had ended that evening, but under special permission from Jan, Van had stayed later into the night. It gave Dune a chance to talk with his brother before he left. Now he was on his way, headed back towards Los Angeles, and things would be returning to normal in Albrecht Durer. Whatever normal meant.

Hitomi squeezed her way back inside and opened up the little scrap of paper that Van had slipped her before he left. This was the first opportunity she had been given to read it.

Hitomi, don't forget your promise to write. I like you, Hitomi, and I sincerely think that you and Scratch will work it out. I have a hunch that you two will be the foundations you both need to get out of AD. But be careful when dealing with Scratch. He has the tendency to be...slightly sadistic towards the people very close to him. I speak from personal experience. I can always help you if there is trouble.

-Van

Hitomi flipped over the paper and saw that Van's address and phone number were both written there in small, neat printing. She tucked it into her jean pocket. //What on earth did he mean about 'I know from experience'? Were he and Scratch ever...an *item*?! He's just about said as much. I'll have to ask him later.// She turned around, just to see Jan pushing them out of the doorway and closing it firmly. "Right. Off to bed with y'all. It's almost your curfew." Lily said firmly. The three of them groaned.

Scratch turned to Lily with a pathetic puppy face and said, "Lily, can't we just stay up a *little* bit longer? Pleeeeease?" Lily looked at him, her resolve weakening.

"How long is 'just a little bit'?" she asked warily.

Scratch grinned. "Oh, a few hours or so. Maybe until two, three in morning."

Lily rolled her eyes. "It's eleven thirty now. You get to stay up until twelve thirty, got it? By then I want to see you in bed and sleeping. And I *will* come ta check up on y'all, so I mean it! Now scat!" she waved them off affectionately. They scampered out of view and began to make their way towards the elevator. Once inside, Lena pressed the button for the third floor at the same time Hitomi pushed the fourth.

"What'cha doing?" Hitomi asked Lena. "Aren't you going to come upstairs and hang with me and Scratch?"

Lena shook her head. "I'm rather tired. Besides, I'd really like to have a little solo time. No offence intended, of course."

Scratch raised his eyebrow at her. "Of course not," he sneered. He *looked* annoyed on the outside, but Lena had known him for a long time, and she could tell that he was just *itching* to get rid of her and have a little time by himself with Hitomi.

Scratch leaned over and kissed Lena on the forehead and Hitomi murmured, "Goodnight." before she stepped off the elevator. Only after the elevator doors were firmly closed behind her did Lena allow herself to laugh. Scratch and Hitomi were both so attracted to each other, it was almost ridiculous. And what made it even more amusing was the fact that Lena had figured it out *ages* ago, and they were just *beginning* to realize that there was something more than friendship happening. Lena shrugged to herself as she walked down the hall. What did it matter if there was an abundance of teen lust? They were perfect for each other anyways.

The opening of Lena's door coincided with the opening of the elevator one floor up. As Scratch stepped out into the 'Boys' hallway, he took a chance and grasped Hitomi's hand. He felt his pulse race, and he realized with some amusement that he was nervous. Hitomi turned to look at him, smiled, then gently closed her fingers around his. Scratch breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. When they reached his room, Scratch broke away from Hitomi, turning on the little bedside lamp and sat down on the bed, facing her, his eyes searching. She was beautiful, in the way that only young women can be. She stood tall and thin, her skin unblemished and untainted. Her body's soft appearance deceived the eye, for he knew that underneath her peaches and cream skin was undiluted strength; muscles wound up as tightly as clockwork. Her face displayed the charm and freshness, as well as the endearing insecurity of a teenage girl, yet her eyes...she looked at him in a way no girl ever could. She looked at him the way a woman looked at a man.

Hitomi bit her lip, slightly uncomfortable under Scratch's scrutiny. In all of her time at AD, she had never really felt uncomfortable around him. He was just too real, too authentic to feel awkward around. He had never made any pretence for anyone, always saying exactly what was on his mind. But even the comfort that came with such honesty had changed. Before, she had just been a girl who liked to spend time with Scratch, liked talking with him, looking at him, even. But now...she was the girl who *wanted* him. Wanted his friendship, his care, his trust, and so much more that she didn't even dare think about. She hadn't even known it until this morning when Van had kissed her. But now it was a truth, as real and valid as any other part of her. Her hair, her eyes, her heartbeat...these things were solid, as were her feelings for Scratch. She didn't love him, not yet anyways. It was too soon for that. But she felt something she had never felt before, in any of her dealings with boys. She had the knowledge that she harbored that feeling...beyond primal lust, that spark, which given time and fuel could become a full fledged fire. As Hitomi crossed to room to be near him, she had a realization that almost made her laugh out loud. She could love this man.

Scratch pulled her down to sit beside him. He cupped her face in his had and began to trace her lower lip with his thumb. Hitomi closed her eyes, moved my the tenderness that Scratch so rarely displayed. "What do you want, Hitomi?" asked Scratch, his voice husky.

Hitomi opened her eyes, confusion evident on her face. Why on earth would he ask something like that *now*?

"What do you want from *me*?" he clarified. When she made no reply, the silence in the room was like a vacuum that desperately needed to be filled. "I mean...I don't understand you!" he exclaimed, his features regaining their typical distrustful harshness. "Everyone else, it's so *obvious* to me what they want me to do. In fact, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Marly wants by body; she wants to control me. Van's determined to protect me from the Big Bad World for as long as he lives, Lena wants to and will likely remain my best friend for a very long time. But you...I don't know what you want. I get vibes from you, Hitomi, but they're all muddled up." Scratch leaned in towards her and spoke with a rough whisper, "When I look into your big pretty eyes, I see want in there. But what you want I just-" Hitomi silenced him with her finger.

"I want *this*" she said, her voice lower than usual. Ever so slowly she moved, closing the space between them.

Scratch's lips were surprisingly soft for one who could make such harsh, mocking expressions with them. He responded her soft kiss by pulling her down on the bed and leaning over her. He pushed the hair away from her neck and began to kiss her, starting just below her ear and moving lower toward her collar bone. Hitomi's pulse began to quicken and she closed her eyes in delight as he began to bite and nibble at her, hard enough to make her shiver, soft enough to feel safe.

Almost as soon as he had started, he was finished. He quickly pushed himself off of her and moved in to a sitting position. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. As she watched him, Hitomi felt her breath catch in her throat. He was the most beautiful person she had ever seen in her life. His porcelain skin was slightly flushed and his lips were rosy from kissing her. Around his head was a silver halo, thin strands of his hair falling into his eyes.

Hitomi sat up. She understood that he had not stopped because he didn't like her. It had simply been time to stop, and now she was supposed to make a quick exit. She got up and strode across the room to the door. She turned to him briefly. "I want *you*, Scratch. That's all I want." He nodded, his eyes still shut, a strange expression on his face. Hitomi gently shut the door behind her. Inside his room, Scratch found that he had to pinch himself to keep from smiling too hard.

Ð Ð Ð

anti money

anti hate

anti things I fucked and ate

anti peace

anti life

anti husband, anti wife

anti song and anti me

I don't deserve a chance to be

-Marilyn Manson

The sun was beginning to creep up above the tree tops, making fascinating shapes in the shadows over the slowly melting snow. Scratch sat on the steps, absorbing the beauty all around him, taking a deep, contented drag from his cigarette. Just as he began to exhale, he heard the click of the door behind him. He turned, expecting it to be Hitomi, but was shocked to find Marly standing there looking at him, a funny light in her eyes.

Scratch quickly masked his shock and replaced it with a look of violent disinterest. He turned around, staring at the cigarette in his hands, wishing desperately for her to just *leave*. Didn't she know by now that he *hated* her? Just as he was thinking this, Marly did the thing Scratch was dreading most; she went and sat down beside him, staring at him pointedly.

Several minutes passed in uncomfortable silence. Scratch kept up his cool, detached exterior, but beneath it his insides were squirming. He was in emotional knots. He was disgusted by her. It wasn't that she was ugly; she wasn't. It was the feeling he got from being that close to her that made him shiver; his skin was crawling.

He had always relied on his ability to 'sense' what a person was like. He had been able to pick up on vibes and auras for years. And never before had he felt one like this. What he felt made him want to recoil in fear and loathing. All around her was this mass of empty, sucking grey. She was like a vacuum. Whoever she came close to she began to feed off of, her aura temporarily losing it's grayness. She was what Scratch called an Astral Vampire. His father had been one too.

From what he could tell, Marly fed off of other people's aura's and suffering, enjoying every minute of their pain, *especially* if it was to further her own ends. Even without the knowledge that she was a traitorous bitch, he would have felt considerably more than a little discomfort being in such close proximity to her. He took another drag on the cigarette as he thought to himself, //Pity. She never used to give bad vibes. Her aura...I remember! It was blue. For gentleness. God, how things have changed!//

Scratch's thoughts were interrupted by Marly's voice. "Look, I *know* that you don't like me- hate me even. I figured that out a long time ago, but-"

"But nothing!" he spat. "You brought it on yourself. You and your self-fucking-righteousness. You pretend that you are a friend--that you are there for them no matter what, and then as soon as you see something that you don't like, you disappear. Well, I don't give a fuck anymore! I hate you. So go get back up on your high horse, little girl. No one wants you here!" His voice was barely above a whisper, but it conveyed two years of pent up hate, anger and hurt. As he uttered the words, he almost felt better. He hadn't said anything to Marly or anyone else about their fight two years ago. He hadn't told anyone who she had just dumped him like he was a piece of shit after she found out about his father. It felt good. And what felt even better was the look of hurt and torment on Marly's face. The bitch had this coming.

"I already said that I *know* all of that." Scratch looked up at her, surprised that she was going to stick around for another verbal beating. "I have something to tell you Dil-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT NAME!" he screamed. He got up and began to pace. "Besides, anything that comes out of your mouth is foul shit! What could you possibly have to say that would be worth contamination?"

Marly flinched in response, but refused to back down. "Sorry about the name, *Scratch*. In fact, I'm sorry about everything. I wish that I had never been so stupid and self absorbed! But the past is past! The only thing I can do is to try to make it up to you by being a good friend when you need one."

Scratch snorted. "I have many good friends and *you* aren't one of them. I have Van, Lena, Hitomi, Bella-"

He was cut off by Marly as she lunged forward and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him. "It's *about* Hitomi, you dolt! I didn't know how to tell you. She's a cheating piece of scum!" Scratch eyed her suspiciously. His body was tense, ready to shake Marly off of him, but his eyes were inviting her to continue. "I know how you feel about Hitomi. I can see it in your every movement. You care. To me, you wear your heart on a sleeve. To others, you may be able to disguise how you feel, but me.*I* can see right through the attitude that you slather on as thick as the make up on your face. You can't fool me, Scratch. And that's why it hurts me so much to see you like this when she doesn't even give a shit for you!"

Scratch's eyes widened uncomprehendingly. "What-what are you saying?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. He knew that Hitomi was too perfect. Why hadn't he seen this coming?

"I'm saying that yesterday I caught Van and Hitomi making out. You mean so much to me Scratch, I just couldn't let you carry on believing that she cared for you."

Scratch's mind was reeling. His face was in shock. After a long silence he spoke. "How am I to know that you aren't lying to me?" he asked, though in his head he already believed her.

Marly took a step back from Scratch. She knew by the hard tone to his features that he needed very little convincing. Still. "Just ask her yourself. Besides, have I ever lied to you before? In all my years, no matter how low I sank, I *never* lied to you." With these last words she got up and flounced up the steps, disappearing into the building, leaving behind a very pissed off young man, desperately wishing he had a razor.

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For Fitz20 and esca chick, who despite FF.N being a bitch, took the extra time to encourage me to continue.

i've got a crush on a pretty pistol

should i tell her that i feel this way?

i've got love songs in my head that are killing us away

-Manson

Marly smiled to herself, laughing at her own private joke all day long. Delicious tension filled the air and resentment hung so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Wherever anyone went they could not be at ease if either Scratch or Hitomi were present. Even Lena was avoiding them that day; she knew that if she wasn't around, she wouldn't have to choose sides in the upcoming fight. And there *would* be a fight. The feelings of anger and betrayal that were welling up inside of Scratch like a volcano ready to explode were becoming more and more obvious as the day wore on. And while most people didn't want to stick around to see the shit hit the fan, Marly wanted to witness every second of it.

Of course, everyone knew what was going on; all except that pathetic excuse for a girl, otherwise known as Hitomi. She could tell that Scratch was pissed at her, even she wasn't stupid enough to miss that, but she had no clue *why*. The others all had an idea or two, though. They would glare and leer at Marly. When she passed them in the halls, not even bothering to act innocent-which everyone knew she wasn't--- she chose instead to wear a triumphant smirk. All day she walked with the confident step of the victor. Let them have their favorites! The fools were blind anyways. None of them could see what Marly saw.

Marly knew that Hitomi and Scratch were wrong for each other. They just...weren't right; it was like trying to hang to sun and the moon beside each other. They would constantly try to outshine the other until they both burned out. No one could see the imperfections of them as a couple. All those twits were thinking was "Oh, *poor* Hitomi," or even worse, "But they are so *perfect* together!" It made Marly sick. Perfect? Fuck that! Little Miss Prim and Proper might be perfect, but Scratch sure as hell wasn't. That was why they didn't --*shouldn't*-- be together.

Scratch was tainted, in both body and mind, as was Marly. Together the two imperfect halves made a perfect whole. Two negatives made positive. Everything, even *math*, showed that it was Marly who belonged with Scratch, not that Miss America wannabe.

So, knowing what no one else did, she had gone to Scratch that morning, just before breakfast when he went out for a smoke, and told him the truth. That his bleach blond little piece of shit was a whore. That she wasn't as sweet and trustworthy as she seemed.

It had taken a while to get him to believe her, mostly because he wouldn't let her get a word in edgewise, but he did eventually. And now look at him. He was a raging bull, out for blood. Hitomi's blood. Marly giggled wildly at the thought and skipped off to her appointment with Jan. Life was perfect.

Ð Ð Ð

For two days this continued; the walls between Hitomi and Scratch grew ever greater. Hitomi could sense the gap between them was widening and it frustrated her. Every time she tried to approach Scratch to confront him his body would tense up and he would give her a look that should have been registered as a lethal weapon.

What bothered her most was that there was no reason that she could think of for him to be pissed at her. She had wracked her brains, fruitlessly. On the first day she had been temped to ask someone else what was going on, but whenever she came near, people would clear off and busy themselves elsewhere. So she couldn't find out what was going on from them either. It was so frustrating! She and Scratch were obviously at an impasse. Scratch refused to talk to her or let her talk to him, and Hitomi could sense that there were big emotional issues behind his behavior. *She* wasn't willing to risk an emotional breakdown for either of them to get to the bottom of it, not yet anyways.

The only person that would still talk to her was Tamara. Bella, Chester, Michael and even *Lena* were avoiding her like she had the plague. They hadn't said a word to her all day. It was this big conspiracy to make her feel like shit!

Tamara knew what had happened to Scratch, Hitomi could tell. She would avoid talking about him in any of their conversations. But at least she was still talking to Hitomi. It was bad enough that she was mysteriously on the outs with Scratch, but *Lena*, her roommate and best friend in AD? She could barely look Hitomi in the eye. When Hitomi had come into her room a few moments ago, Lena had made a quick exit. Relationships were supposed to be unstable; friendships weren't.

Hitomi would not cry. She avoided it at all costs. It made a person weak and vulnerable. And even worse than that, people could tell when you had been crying, so the whole world knew what your weaknesses were and could easily exploit them. No. Crying was at the top of Hitomi's most hated things list. But despite her resolve, she felt the gloom begin to overwhelm her. It made her feel like she was in grade 2 again. That year had been bad, Hitomi remembered that much. She couldn't put names to the faces in her memory, but there had been constant fights within her circle of friends, and she was almost always on the outs with one of them. Back stabbing and vicious popularity games were the norm back then. For some reason, this situation with Scratch had struck a cord in her, reminding her of her long buried childhood.

Hitomi hit the 'play' button on her headset and closed her eyes, letting the loud angry music fill her head and soul.

"Drowning deep in my sea of loathing

Broken your servant I kneel

It seems what's left of my human side

Is slowly changing in me"

Hitomi had been acquiring a taste for death metal and other ridiculously dark and depressing music recently. She had gotten bored of her stash of cd's, turning to Scratch and Lena and Bella to supply her with new music; they all had an obsession with immersing themselves in angry music. In fact, this Distrubed cd, The Sickness, was one Scratch had given her. //Why did I have to go and start thinking about him again?// she thought sadly.

Hitomi felt her throat tighten up and her mouth went dry. Why was this affecting her so badly? Then came the dreaded stinging behind her eyes and Hitomi began to shake her head, attempting to push away the tears that were already forming. No, no, no, no. The word kept repeating over and over again in her head, in time with the music. But it was too late for refusal. She was already crying. The feelings of shame, hopelessness and despair were so strong that she soon gave up on trying to repress them. She sat, sobbing into her hands, a horrible sound of failure filling the room. She hated the world. A floodgate had opened inside of her. For the first time in years, she was truly and honestly angry. She wanted to kill someone.

Looking at my own reflection

When suddenly it changes

Violently it changes (oh no)

There is no turning back now

You've woken up the demon in me

Ð Ð Ð

They go from kindergarten to killing sprees

They go from heart ache to inner peace

Hundred foot ceilings

Hundred percent defeat

He said let's leave this between you and me.

-Teagan and Sarah

Lena sat with Bella and Michael at lunch. The others were outside; Scratch was refusing to talk to anyone and Hitomi had holed herself up in her room this morning. And Michael didn't even count as a lunch partner. He had his headphones on and was immersed in one of Shakespeare's plays, Hamlet.

"Eat."

"Fuck you, Bella," snapped Lena. She hated it when people would bug her about her weight or her eating habits.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Lena, sometimes you are *so* stupid. Dune and Lily are in here, and they're watching *you*. You say that you want to get out of here, but you never pay attention to things." Lena turned around and sure enough, Dune and Lily were chatting away, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings, but every once in a while they would tilt their heads slightly and watch her.

She turned to face Bella again. "Thanks Bella."

"No problemo, kid. You *need* the help. All this lack of food has left you with the IQ of a slug. Now *eat* something!"

"Why don't you mind your own business?" asked Lena, exasperated. "This is an insane asylum, in case you hadn't noticed," Lena snorted loudly, but Bella continued as if she hadn't heard her.

"Is there any such thing as personal boundaries in here?" Bella finished off, waving around the room.

"Still." Lena hated food. It was disgusting, and worst of all, fattening.

"Eat."

"God, it's so *gross*!" Lena whined.

"Eat," insisted Bella.

"Fine!" snapped Lena, defeated. She began to angrily chop up her little steamed baby carrots, rapidly shoving them into her mouth, an almost violent undertone to her actions. "Happy?" she asked sourly through a mouth of butter and mushy vegetables.

"You need to swallow," said Bella with a twinkle in her eye. There was an awkward silence, and much to Bella's surprise, Lena said nothing about the potentially sick joke Bella had just made. Bella snapped her fingers in front of Lena's distant eyes. "Lena? What's up with you? I gave you a perfectly good foundation for a dirty joke and you ignore it."

Lena swallowed her veggies and sighed. "It's the situation between Scratch and Hitomi," she said tiredly.

"And?"

"And it makes me feel like shit, for one thing! Scratch has been my best friend since I got here and he has been nothing if not a good friend and a safe confidante. And when Hitomi came here, there was just…something about her that made me and Scratch like her. Two went to three in a matter of days. For the past couple of months we have been inseparable. People called us the Triplets because we spent that much time together. And things were going so well for Scratch and Hitomi in a potential relationship sense. They were getting closer and closer everyday. Next thing I know, Scratch is on a rampage, Marly is smirking like she was born with that expression on her face and everyone doesn't know who to side with. So no one who is closely connected with Scratch and Hitomi have said two words put together the past few days."

"Correction: only Scratch and Hitomi aren't talking."

"It's not as simple as that, Bella. I wish it were. Out of loyalty to Scratch, I can't converse with Hitomi or any of the bystanders who may have taken her side. We all know, though he never told us, what he went through with Marly. Now he thinks that it's happening again. So it isn't fair if I go to Hitomi. But I like Hitomi a lot, she's been nothing but a sweetie, and I feel like shit for ignoring her. And I can't talk to anyone who supports Scratch in this, lest she thinks that I hate her. And a lot of people are thinking along the same lines as me. The only person that still hangs out with her is that disgusting pillar of cheeriness, Tamara."

Bella snorted. The Black Abyss, as Bella was sometimes called, had never gotten along well with Tamara, and everyone knew it. "What I don't get is why you care? You should be able to talk to both of them and not choose sides. If they bitch, you bitch back. Or bite, or scratch or whatever floats your boat. Despite the fact that I'm siding with Scratch on this one and I believe that's he's in pain and all, I *like* Hitomi. I think that he is also making a mountain out of a molehill. He jumps to conclusions. Lord Fuckwad just doesn't stop placing the blame on his past, though. If the sun burnt out, it would be because of the way his father treated him. I have no clue how long this will continue, as they're both stubborn as mules when they want to be, but I see no reason why you should lose two friends just because they don't have enough brain cells to figure out that this really isn't a big deal." With that, Bella got up, leaving her tray behind, as usual.

Lena looked down at her plate and was surprised to discover that it was empty. Part of her was kicking herself for being so stupid and careless. 400 calories was a lot! It was disgusting, having ingested all of that in one sitting. Yet.somewhere deep inside of her there was a feeling of satisfaction. Pushing these thoughts away, Lena got up. Bella was right. She would end this nonsense soon enough. She would go upstairs and apologize to Hitomi for ignoring her unduly. She just hoped that Hitomi would accept her apology.

Ð Ð Ð

"You look like death gone albino; what's with the extra makeup?" Jan asked as the hurricane locally known as Scratch threw the door open and flopped out in one of her many chairs.

"I'm extra pissed," he replied curtly.

She nodded, looking at his cold hard features, and she knew that this session would be a long one. " There has been a lot of tension in my sessions with almost everyone from your ward, Scratch. Wanna tell me what's going on?" He looked at Jan warily for a moment, considering.

Scratch disliked humans. They were an infectious disease that plagued the earth. He wished them all dead. They were little bugs just waiting to be squished. But once every blue moon there would be a person so different that Scratch not only liked them, but respected them, thus exempting them from the status of being a bug. Jan was one of these rarities. If anyone could understand, it was her.

"Well. It has to do with me and Hitomi," Scratch was inwardly wincing as he said her name, but his face was dark. Jan motioned for him to continue. She had known what was going on between him and Hitomi, of course. She knew everything that went on inside Albrecht Durer, but she wanted to hear about it from his lips. If it was big enough to make everyone else creep around him for fear of being beaten up, he would want to talk about it. He proceeded to tell Jan about their walks together, and how he and Hitomi would talk for hours. He told Jan that Hitomi knew about his father, and about how she had seemingly accepted him despite that. He told of the night Van left and how he felt at peace when he was in Hitomi's arms.

Jan looked at him. "Scratch, I have to stop you here. First, I want to say that it is very dangerous to get involved in a situation like this. You are both very unstable people, and I would recommend against it. But I won't force you. Now, with the formalities aside, I want to say that I am very proud of you. I know that you were crushed when Marly reacted badly to hearing about your past-"

"Abandoned me was more like it!"

"I'm quite impressed that you found the courage to share your past again." Jan continued as if Scratch hadn't interrupted. "That and the fact that you were able to make some *non*-sexual physical contact with Hitomi? Now *that* is something!" Scratch grinned wryly, his eyes humorless. "I can sense that there is a but to this story, judging form your look."

Scratch nodded. He proceeded to tell the events of three days ago, riddling it with curses and foul language as he thought appropriate.

When he had finished, all Jan said was "I see." The silence stretched out for many minutes until Scratch remembered the other thing that he wanted to tell Jan.

"And I had a dream." Jan looked broke away from her reverie, looking at him, indicating that he should continue. "Well, you know those dreams I used to get when Van was still around here?" he asked.

"The ones where you and he were fighting in giant robots? His was white and yours was red?"

Scratch nodded. "Well, I had the same dream. We were fighting again. We were in the woods and it was nighttime. As usual in this dream, the earth hung in the sky beside the moon. But the thing that made this dream stand out was the fact that Hitomi was there."

Jan examined him closely. "Hitomi was in your dream?"

He nodded. "She was sitting on Van's shoulder-or the robot's shoulder anyways. And in my dream, when I saw her, I called her the 'bitch from the Mystic Moon'."

Jan gasped.

"I have no clue what the "Mystic Moon" shit meant," he continued, oblivious to Jan's piercing gaze, "but Hitomi was obviously there to represent how she betrayed me for Van." He paused for a moment, reflecting.

"Are you sure that's the reason she was in your dream? And are you even sure that she betrayed you?" she asked gently. He looked at her pityingly. "Ok, ok, I get the point. Have you ever seen her in your dreams before?" He shook his head. "Are you sure, Scratch?"

"Positively."

Jan's alarm clock began to go off, signaling the end of their session. As Scratch closed the door behind him, Jan let out a weary sigh and buried her head in her hands. Maybe she and Dune could finally figure out what exactly Gaea was.

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"Hitomi?" There were no lights on in the room and the curtains were drawn shut to block out the mid-day light. "Hitomi?" she called again. When no reply was made, Lena moved and flipped on the light. What she saw made her swell with some perverse pride and made sob of fear and guilt catch in her throat, all at the same time. Hitomi lay sprawled out on the floor sleeping. Lena went over and knelt by her. She was clad in black from head to toe. Her hair, her beautiful honey colored hair was gone, replaced by a harsh black that made her look pale and unwell. She had even taken Lena's makeup, savagely twisting her features into an unrecognizable mask, with a style strong and impatient, like that of one who is driven by desperation or anger. And worst of all were her arms. Liquid red lines criss-crossed in strange patterns up and down, little pools of blood collecting on the floor.

Lena leaned over and placed a tear stained kiss of Hitomi's forehead. "You really are one of us now, aren't you?" she asked in a strangled whisper. Then she got up and closed the door. The first rule was to never let another slasher get caught. And Lena would be loyal to Hitomi; this had merely brought her closer to the girl. There was an understanding now. She would watch Hitomi's back, much the way Bella and Scratch watched hers. It was a vicious cycle.

Ð Ð Ð

The coffee was dark and strong. Steam curled up off the surface of the black liquid, and it could heat you from the inside out. Here, the coffee left you with a comforting burning sensation in your throat after you swallowed it. Dune sometimes wondered if it was spiked. He sighed contentedly. Leaning back into the cushions on the booth seats, he waited for Jan to come out of the washroom. He was sitting at Jenni's diner. Dinner would be his treat tonight.

The diner was actually called Nissa's Grub. The name suited the place. It was an unaffected place with no pretentious attitudes. It was a cheep diner with horrible yellow, orange and pink paint that was chipping off the walls and lights that flickered on and off every once in a while. But it was clean, the food was decent, and the people were very hospitable. Nissa, the owner of the small eatery, had worked hard all of her life. One could see it in the weary wrinkles around her aging eyes. Yet she never failed to put on a smile for a customer.

Then there was Jenni, who was another matter entirely. Jenni was in her early twenties and she had worked at the diner ever since she had dropped out of high school at the age of seventeen. Nissa, kind old soul that she had always been, had taken her on. She hadn't needed the extra help, but Jenni proved to be a life saver. When Nissa had been in a car crash almost a year ago, it was Jenni that had run everything, keeping the little diner's doors open, not to mention ensuring that Nissa had proper care everyday until she had recovered.

Jenni never felt more comfortable than when she was in the diner. The only thing she hated about it, she told Dune one time in private, was the color scheme. One day she would paint a mural of the sky with beautiful deep blue hues spreading out across the walls. She had wanted to do it for so long but had never had the time or the money. Jenni had been a local celebrity when she was a teen; the beauty that had won her the place of homecoming queen and Miss Kempville had not dulled over the years but was instead transformed by a hardened mask of detachment and an inner vigilance that rarely let her relax. She would sit across from Dune, a faraway look in her eyes and tell him that when she was a child she had thought that she was actually a bird in a human's body. She longed to fly away, she told him. Then she would smile sadly and say, "Enough of this sentimental nonsense," and get up to continue with her work.

Nissa's Diner was a home away from home for both Jan and Dune. It was a bare ten minute drive from the asylum, and it was perfect for days when you needed to relax before you went home. It was ideal for any day really, if you had an appetite. Jan loved the food, but it was the unique coffee that kept Dune coming back. Well, that and the debates he would have with Jenni over the existence of God. He hadn't been able to convince her that there was a supreme being yet, but she wasn't winning either. He smiled to himself at the thought of their friendly arguments.

Jan appeared from behind the bathroom door, which was doing even worse than the rest of the place. The paint had completely chipped off, leaving rough, un-sanded wood exposed and the handle didn't always close properly, but no matter. It served it's purpose anyways. Jan sat down across from him. Jenni, who was greatly adored by Jan, came over to get their orders.

"Why, hello now. Haven't seen either of you two around for a while. Been busy?"

Jan nodded. It was the understatement of the century.

"How about you? How are you holding up?" she asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

Dune grinned, because where other people would see a sweet, concerned you woman, he knew what was really going on. As always, she was doubting his abilty to keep from going mental himself under the stress at Albrecht Durer. She would make it clear to him in little jabs or subtle digs into his ego. He ignored it, saying instead, "Pretty good, Jenni. We've had a new patient up at the AD in the past couple of months. She's gone through a lot. She seems to be nothing but a terrified little waif, cowering in the shadows of the more aggressive patients, but I know better. That girl is as hard as a rock. One day, someone will push her too far, and I pity them. She could tear a man to pieces with her sharp tongue if she wanted too."

Jan decided to say nothing as it seemed that Dune knew nothing of Hitomi's agitated behaviour of late. She merely hoped that it wasn't to late to stop her from going off the edge.

"Maybe I'll get to meet her when you bring them kids up for a trip, huh?" asked Jenni as she set the menus down in front of them, distracting Jan from her thoughts. The menus were a mere formality; she already knew what they would order. She was just polite by nature.

"That would be nice," said Jan absently, still distracted.

There was a reason that Dune had asked Jan to have dinner with him tonight. He noticed that she had been getting more and more stressed recently. He knew some of what the situation was at AD, but Jan had never *really* confided in him or asked his opinion. She had been determined to solve everyone's problems by herself. But she was wearing down. She needed his help. She was making no progress with Scratch and he knew that it irked her. After Jenni left with their order Dune leaned forward and said, "I find the whole business with Scratch, Lena and Hitomi really bizarre. And you know that I'm not reffering to the fight they've gotten into recently. I mean...how they managed to wind up at AD. Don't you think it's strange?"

Jan looked down at her mug, considering how much she could afford to tell him, how much to ask him. What the hell. What point was there in trying to protect herself anymore. It wasn't about her. What she didn't want people to know was that she believed what Van had told her. She believed in Gaea.

After a long pause she said, "It certainly is one of the most interesting cases I have ever taken on. The most frustrating, spooky, baffling case, but interesting none the less. Everything is...so coincidental, so perfectly timed. It's almost.as if it was meant to be, if you believed in such things. Fate, if you would. But tell me, Dune, what do you think?" she asked, throwing all reservations to the wind, "What conclusions have you drawn?" she finished off. He thought about it carefully, weighing what he knew and what he thought was going on. He decided that honesty was the best in this situation. Normally, he hated revealing his family's problems to the rest of the world but...if it would help, then he had no choice.

"In all honesty, I don't know what's going on. Whenever I think about those three I get a migraine the size of Australia. It's like they and their illnesses are one big jigsaw puzzle. The only problem is that more than half of the pieces are missing, and we don't know what the final picture is supposed to be. There's very little that *anyone* knows. They *were* always very secretive as children. I didn't even know they were friends for almost a year. But this is what I know to be true:

"First of all, we know that Scratch, Lena and Hitomi were tight-knit friends before they even stepped foot onto the AD property. I used to babysit them you see. That's why I came to you; I need to understand what happened to the little children that I knew as a teen. I was expected to watch Van, as his older brother, but I soon found myself watching all three of them. They were inseparable. It was alright; I was good with children." He broke off, his face blank, obviously lost in some personal memory.

"How did they meet again?" asked Jan very gently. She knew that when Van had been committed to an asylum he had taken it really rough. He sighed wearily.

"They all met at this summer day care center held at an old church. Lena and Hitomi were the first to become friends, as they were both girls of the same age and similar temperament. Van was an older kid at the camp, and as such he ignored them continually. It was his duty. But one day, he saw that Lena was being unfairly picked on-she had been a chubby child- and he couldn't bear watching her play the role of the underdog. He smashed the boy's nose in. From then on, he became The Protector, following them everywhere, as if he were afraid to let them be alone. And as for Scratch...well...he was different from the beginning. He and his father lived across the street from us, but we rarely saw hide or hair of the boy. Van mentioned that he had seen Scratch watching Hitomi, Lena and himself playing out on the street on several occasions. I guess that one day his curiosity just got the better of him. He joined them, and whatever they were doing was interesting enough to compel him to give up his hermit-like behaviour and make friends. By the end of that summer, they were fast friends. That was nine years ago. They managed to stay quite close, right up until...well...trouble started for all of them." Dune paused, gulping down the rest of the coffee. Then he looked back up at the concerned eyes that were searching his own.

"I don't know much more than that. I will never know why they lost coherency, and eventually became comatose. I don't know why they woke up. I don't-" he stopped, his voice ragged with emotion, trying to bite back the anger and frustration that he felt at having no answers. "Will you tell me anything that you find out? Please?" he asked softly. Jan leaned back and looked at the ceiling, tired of unravelling the mystery of the children's past, yet unable to give up. She was determined to see them live out a good life, including Dune, and if telling him a few things would help the situation, she was willing to do that.

"Well, I'll tell you what I can. I can't tell you what Scratch, Lena or Hitomi say in their appointments, that would be a breach of confidentially, but I can keep you up on the basics." He nodded his head in appreciation.

"It's the timing, Dune, which makes this case so strange. It seems almost impossible that four children would simultaneously lose consciousness. It doesn't make sense. When they were found in a near-comatose state on Hitomi's woodland property five years ago, there was no evidence of a fight, or anything else that would give us a reasonable explanation. There were no physical marks on them, nothing. Some of the townspeople thought they had overdosed on drugs of some sort. There was the slight possibility, but the likelihood of eleven year olds experimenting with serious drugs is unrealistic. Any way, it was later confirmed at the hospital that there were no abnormalities in their bodies. As you know, the testing was extensive."

He nodded, his eyes closed, his voice strangled. "I remember. It went of for days. Stomach pumping, blood tests, urine tests, everything. It ended finally, and the hospital recommended to our parents that we find other institutions to entrust their children. It was decided that a mental facility would be better equipped to deal with the emotional repercussions of when they woke up. If they woke up that was. Lena was sent to the Riverwood, Hitomi to the Royal, Scratch and Van were sent here." Dune sighed.

"It was terrible for Lena and Hitomi's parents. They loved their daughters so much. My parents just escaped using drugs, but the only one who didn't care was Scratch's father. He seemed to be glad to have Scratch passed over to us. The rest of the parents blamed themselves, each other and anything else they could blame; they gave up on trying to understand long ago. They just wanted their babies back.

"For three whole months, cooked vegetables looked more alive than those four did. The only one who had made any movement whatsoever was Hitomi, when she seemed to wake up for a few short minutes, and then lapsed back into being catatonic. It was only when she really woke up that things began to take shape. She was the first. She was severely drugged, of course, and she didn't make much sense, but the point she kept trying to make the doctors understand was that she had been away; she said she had been on another planet.

"In a matter of minutes, Van, Lena and Hitomi were all awake, confusion and chaos settling in. Other than strange mutterings they made, they were found to be perfectly healthy. After a month or so of observation, during which time a lot of progress was made to steer them back to their original lives, Lena and Hitomi were free to go home. Lena went back to the country side for a couple of rough years. She would refuse to eat for days at a time, and the final straw came when her parents found a noose that she had hidden in her room. They called you, and had her admitted at the AD.

"Hitomi's parents on the other had, moved to the city. They wanted her to be able to start over again, and to have a good life. And she seemed to do just that. From that day on, she never said anything about 'being away' or about her childhood friends. She went to a private school for a few years, until she had a fit and physically harmed a few of the students. That made her parents suspect that she was still under the influence of her past, and to be on the safe side, had her admitted. Van made the most progress. He was able to come to an understanding with his past, and made himself move on. Though he was never really able to explain what had occurred when they were children, he could function in society. I don't really know why Scratch wasn't released. He had been making fairly good progress as well. He just seems to be on a downward spiral now."

Jan nodded sadly. "I know," she said, "I know that he's been getting worse. I just couldn't let Scratch go home. I had seen the marks that he has, not just the self-inflicted ones, and I wanted to help him escape his father. Legally, his father is untouchable. He would sue for something or another, so the only way to keep Scratch safe was to make him stay here. Maybe that was better anyways. I don't know if it *is* AD making him less stable. But if it isn't, he needs to be here now. As the months fly by, he seems to be displaying more and more violent tendencies. He's a danger to himself and the others around him." Jan looked at her watch. "I have to go, Dune. Thank you for talking, and listening to the ramblings of a sad old woman. Goodbye," she said quickly, and was gone.

Jenni watched in silence as Jan left. She hadn't even stuck around for dinner, but Jan seemed to be upset about something. She hadn't heard their conversation, she wasn't an eavesdropper, but she could guess what it was about. Dune had told Jenni all about his brother's past, and whenever he was thinking of it, his face would look just like it did right then; faraway, sad and tired. He was too old inside. He had seen too much to be a normal man in his mid-twenties. He knew too much. He needed someone to cheer him up.

Dune looked up to see Jenni standing with two steaming plates of food. He smiled apologetically. "Jan had to leave."

"Well then," she said in a brisk voice, "You won't mind if I join you then."

He smiled. "Of course not. I would love it."

"Good," she said as she plopped down across from him, "because it's your treat."

He chuckled. Typical Jenni. She was always stepping in and making him laugh when he most needed a distraction. "Thank you," he said softly as he reached across and tucked a strand of deep brown hair behind her ear.

Jenn knew what he meant. He needed someone to do this for him. She grinned and pinched his nose. "Any time," she said, meaning it with all of her heart.

Ð Ð Ð

She's taking her time

Making up the reasons

To justify all the hurt inside

Cuz she knows from the smiles and the looks in their eyes

Everyone's got a dream about the beautiful one.

-Savage Garden

Scratch *knew* that he was being unreasonable. He hadn't believed it at first, despite Lena's constant whining that he was being unfair. But he had begun to grudgingly accept the fact that he had overreacted to Hitomi's kiss with Van. The knowledge had started very small, not of any consequence whatsoever, and had grown until he *had* to admit his behavior was childish...if only to himself. He wouldn't even tell Lena that though, for she would get this triumphant "I Told You So," look on her face and demand that he go to Hitomi and apologize. He couldn't tell anyone else either. Part of the reason he was so respected- well, respect wasn't exactly the right word- feared him was because he acted without thought, doubt, emotion and most importantly, he felt no remorse. He was desensitized to the people surrounding him. To him, they were less than dirt, waiting to be walked on. He didn't--*shouldn't*--care what Hitomi felt or thought about him. *She* was the one who had gone behind his back, and no matter how childishly he behaved, it did nothing to eradicate the damage that she had left. And yet.there was this doubt, starting like a small grain of sand in an oyster, irritating and rough, growing endlessly inside his head.

He wasn't sure of anything anymore. He had been turned inside out and upside down. Suddenly, he had begun to regret his hasty actions- or lack thereof- towards Hitomi. For once in his life, he realized that there were consequences, feelings, and most uncomfortable of all, guilt. He, *Scratch*, had to face the music, which by rights he should be deaf from!

Guilt was a navel concept to Scratch. He could kill a man without batting an eye. He might press the detonator for a nuclear bomb and not think on it twice. Still, when he looked at Hitomi, it hurt. The feeling inside him was so strong it had become physical; a gripping, tight feeling in his chest that left him bereft of air whenever he saw her.

She would sit in class with the same straight, proud posture, but an alien force had taken over her beautiful face. She would look around, oblivious to her surroundings, face blank and empty, eyes hollow and uncaring. Or even worse was when he would look at her, only to find her features twisted into a gruesome and entirely surreal exhibit of rage and resentment. He longed to see the old Hitomi back, ready to take on the world, make it a better place and believe that he really could feel contentment. And despite his usual scorn for happiness in general, he wanted more than anything else to see her smile. She had not smiled in weeks. It *still* shocked him to see the difference in her appearance. He had found a mass of raven locks surrounding her face instead of golden; dark circles under her eyes that accentuated her new paleness that was only gained by one who cut too much. He had not seen the marks, for Hitomi had been smart enough to wear long sleeves everyday, but he knew that they were there. Scratch probably had identical ones.

Suddenly it hit him. She was his mirror image. A broken warped mirror, but reflective none the less. And *he* had made her into that. His hand had transformed her into what he hated most in all the world: himself. He had done this twice now. First there had been Lena, whose conversion had been a more subtle; a plea for approval, almost. And now Hitomi. Everything he touched turned bad, rotten. Tainted.

It wasn't that he didn't adore Hitomi and love Lena to bits, he did. But they were still.*wrong*. Broken mirrors. He smiled to himself. They say that it's impossible to fix a broken mirror. In the process you crush some of the pieces, and in turn, lose others. It is a futile notion. The mirror would never produce anything but a fragmented, shattered view of what it did before. And he had broken two. Did that mean he would get fourteen years of bad luck? He almost wished he would. Anything to get away from this regret that was eating his insides away.

It was nearly impossible for Scratch to think of anything anymore without ending up back in the same place in his mind. If only he could dismiss her. There might still be an unpleasant feeling of guilt, but maybe he wouldn't feel quite so lost in his own home.

It was her fault, anyways. Maybe that's why he hadn't stopped ignoring her long enough to apologize. God knew that the problem wasn't just being jealous of Van. It pissed him off to know that she could bring out all of the feelings that he had worked so hard to bury. Fear, guilt, pain, attachment.and lust. Lust was the worst. Oh god, how he *wanted* her. He hadn't let himself feel any sort of sexual desire since Van left, for he had quickly banished all unruly thoughts from his mind. But now, he would wake up to sticky sheets and the vague memories of dreaming about *her*.

In his dreams, she came with various changes. Sometimes he would be older or younger than he actually was. Black hair or fair, make up or none, he never dreamt of anyone but her. And his shameful lust didn't end in dreams. To his incredible embarrassment, he would find himself stiff in *class*, just from watching her. She sat in front of him in class, which had it's advantages and it's drawbacks. Unfortunately it made it easier for Scratch to watch her, which had become quite the habit, but luckily for him, she never saw his...rather uncomfortable state.

Scratch loved to watch her. She had a breathtaking sort of clumsy innocence in the way she moved, almost like a woman in the body of a child. The way she moved herself was the *only* thing that hadn't changed about her in the past few weeks. It was an endearing feature. Oh god, how this sickened him. He was turning into sentimental mush. Endearing? God, how cheesy could he get? Well, he couldn't, not even if he were a character from a romance novel. And even worse was the disgusting, sappy flow of fluffy emotions he would horrifyingly discover experiencing whenever he thought about her. He now had to pointedly avoid using the "L" word in his thoughts. It was always on the tip of his tongue, though, and he had to bite it back, forcing himself to remember that love was a four letter word, in every sense.

With all of these things in mind, Scratch continued to add bricks to his carefully constructed defenses. This girl may make him feel and act like a moron, but she was only human. She would fade, as *all* things did when he had a knife in hand. Scar upon scar; brick upon brick. Defenses, comfort, cowardice. Call it what you would, he didn't care. All he knew was that the pain brought him back down to earth and away from the foolish thoughts of happiness that had recently begun to invade his brain. He was unworthy. The red welts were his reminder of that. The blood soiling his clothes was symbolic for the dirt he carried upon his soul. In the red, hot, sensual pain, he found his own personal reality.

Ð Ð Ð

Now is the time for me to rise to my feet

Now is the time to wipe the spit from my face

The tears from my eyes I gotta take my life back

One chance to make it right I will be heard

-Hatebreed

Lena had just settled into reading one of the many books that Jan had loaned her to satisfy her ravenous mind when the door flew open. It hit the wall with a thud, startling Lena into moving from her comfortable position on the bed. She bolted upright, expecting to see Hitomi glowering down at her, and was surprised when she didn't. Instead, standing in the doorway, fists clenched, cheek red and eyes wild stood Scratch. Lena wondered absentmindedly what had made him so angry. Normally he would just shrug people off...or better yet, stab them.

"Well, you *can* come in you know. Unless your feet are nailed to the floor, of course," her tone was sarcastic, but not without humor. The oblivious figure in the doorway blinked and brought himself back from his own little twisted bizarre world of intense hatred. He stomped across the room and flung himself down beside her on the bed. Now that he was this close, Lena could see that his jaw was working furiously; he was so mad he was grinding his teeth. Inwardly she grinned, but she knew better than to let her body follow her mind's example.

"What happened? Why are you so upset?" she asked as she brushed a rebellious strand of hair from his eyes.

"Upset?" he growled at her, "I'm *not* upset. Pissed of is what I am!" Lena gave him a withering look that plainly said, "And there's a difference where?" He just glared back.

She sighed with fake exasperation. "Why are you so pissed then?" she said impatiently.

In response he turned his face to the right to reveal a very angry, red looking welt upon his face.

Lena's eyes narrowed. "Scratch," she whispered very slowly, enunciating his name, her voice edging on angry, "did you do this to yourself?"

"Of course not, you idiot!"

Lena breathed a sigh of relief. If the day ever came when Scratch would mar his own face, it would mean he was too far gone to be saved. His incurable vanity had always kept the razors away from his face, but Lena feared the day that his ego would step aside to the more powerful need to inflict pain on himself.

"Well, how did you get it then? And how are you going to explain it to Jan?" she asked sharply.

"What do you think?" he sneered at her. Lena shrugged. "The bitch hit me!" he growled, as if it whould have been obvious.

There was a pause and then Lena said, her voice riddled with confusion, "Excuse me? *Jan* hit you?"

He stood up, face full of frustration. "Of course not! That bitch fr-" he paused and checked himself. Now why had he wanted to call Hitomi the 'bitch from the Mystic Moon'? Then he remembered he had called her that in a dream once. He shook his head, pushing these thoughts away. Then he sat down again.

"Hitomi hit me." Lena's eyes bulged out as she stared at him, scrutinizing him as if she didn't believe him. Then, quietly at first, she began to chuckle. Soon she was on the floor laughing so hard she was crying. Anger and resentment welled up inside of Scratch until he shouted her down. "You mock me?" he shouted, his voice arrogant and dangerous.

Lena sat up and shook her head, her body still quivering with laughter. "Not at all," she said between gasps, "It's merely that it would make a wonderful tongue twister. 'Hitomi hit me, Hitomi hit me'!"

Scratch felt a tugging at the side of lips and he fought to suppress the grin that was threatening to ruin his anger. Looking at him, Lena felt bad for laughing at him and immediately went to him, sitting with her back on his legs, head in his lap. "I'm sorry. Tell me what happened."

He kept staring at this one spot on the floor, not even breaking eye contact when he spoke. "I saw Hitomi in the halls, and I pulled her aside. I told her that I was sorry for the way I had acted, and that I knew it had been wrong, and would she like to go out for a walk tonight. And...and she slapped me!"

Lena took his hand. "Scratch?" she asked, her tone soft.

"Uh-huh?"

"Look at me Scratch." She said firmly, her tone allowing for no disrespect. His expression softened into a grin when he did. "Scratch, do you mean to tell me that you *apologized*? To a *female*?!"

He grinned sheepishly and nodded. "I swear," he said only half seriously, "that I don't know how it happened. Watch out, it may be contagious."

Lena giggled. Then, she stopped to listen. Some noises down the hall had caught her attention. It sounded like a scuffle. She could hear a few of the nurses shouting and a few whimpers of pain. She shrugged. They had probably caught Marly trying to hump the coat stand, something that was strictly against regulations.

Then, for the second time in a matter of minutes, the door burst open, only this time it was done with even more force and violence behind it. A man stood in the room, looking the pair up and down with a sick gleam in his eye the made Lena's skin crawl. Scratch began to shake and he moved back as far as he could, trying to distance himself from the man. Terror had begun to choke him, and he shoved his fist in his mouth, biting down hard. He gave up trying after a few moments though. The man stalked across the room and stood in from of Scratch's shaking body. Then Scratch lost all sense of himself. He was a suddenly a child again as he whimpered, "Daddy?"

Ð Ð Ð

nikomarete...oshimarete

asobarete...kowasarete

taosarete...fusagarete

okasarete...korosarete

Hate me...Pity me

Tease me...Break me

Beat me...Stop me

Violate me...Kill me

-Camui Gackt

Hitomi couldn't believe Scratch! He had such nerves coming up to her in the halls after ignoring her for almost two months straight. And even worse was that he actually expected that she would accept his apology and that everything would be okay. What a little shit! Well, he deserved what he got. Hitomi didn't regret slapping him, not for one second. The look of shock and hurt on his face when she had slapped him did nothing to sooth the bitter feelings that came with being dropped like a sack of hot potatoes for no apparent reason. It was his fault for being such a prick anyways. If he thought that she would just bend to his every arrogant, self-centered whim- she snorted as the elevator door sprung open.

She decided that when she got to her room, she wouldn't tell Lena about what had happened. She might not find it as satisfying, and amusing, as Hitomi did.

Hitomi admired, in a sort of jealous way, how Lena had managed to stay close with both herself and Scratch during the past couple of months; things had gotten pretty tense around AD. Still, despite the fact that Lena *said* that nothing had changed in her friendship with Hitomi, there were still things that she wouldn't feel comfortable telling Lena. Like how she slapped Scratch a few minutes ago.

Ooh, it had been such a good feeling. She was just itching to slap him again! Her fingers were practically twitching. He had been such a dolt. For fuck's sake, it was the 21st century. It wasn't as if she had slept with either Van or Scratch. If she had, *then* Scratch could have cause to complain. But it had just been a kiss. A mutual exchange of spit. Big woopdi-fucking-deal. Hell, she had kissed Van *before* she and Scratch had, well...Hitomi didn't quite know what had happened that night two moths ago, but she knew that it had been heading in a one stop destination. All aboard, last stop: relationship. Of course it had been going in that direction. Or at least it was, before Marly came along and screwed everything up. Oh, it made Hitomi so mad! She wanted to smash the wall, picturing Marly's face instead of the white paint, when she thought of that *worm* of a human.

Marly must be really desperate to have Scratch back if she had to stoop to such methods to pry Scratch and herself apart. It seemed like she had tried to win points with him for being the tattle tale, being the tragic, misunderstood heroine who just wants to help her hero. And the only way she could manage to make herself look anything better than shit was to turn Hitomi into the fucking demon. If Hitomi was the villain, then Marly had believed that she might actually have a chance with Scratch.

Not that it had done her any good, of course. Even Scratch wasn't stupid enough to fall for that trick. If anything, he may have started to hate Marly even more than before. Well, let the piece of gutter trash have him! Those two bags of scum deserved each other.

Hitomi grinned malevolently as she pictured them together, ten years from now. They would have gotten out of AD by then and have had two children. They would be living in a shack, because both of them were too psychotic to hold down a job for longer than two weeks, and they would both be alcoholics. Marly would be selling her body to support her jobless boyfriend, who would just go out and waste it on drugs and prostitutes. There. Now wasn't that a pretty picture?

Hitomi scowled to herself. Less than two moths ago she would have been shocked and ashamed to be thinking such thoughts about *anybody*, let alone Scratch, who she had desperately cared for then. But now, she *wanted* to make someone pay. She wanted someone to squish beneath the heel of her boot, just like a bug. She felt like a villain, like a bitch. It was an extremely empowering feeling. Her anger gave her the strength to be bad, cruel even, to other people in order to protect herself. Sometimes she would doubt herself and her new found hatred, wondering if it was all uncalled for. But the doubt didn't last long, barely long enough for her latest victim to make it's quick escape, and by the time they had, she had regained her sense, pushing such useless thoughts away.

She hadn't exactly become a bully. She never picked on people senselessly. It was just that if someone pissed her off, she wasn't going to sit back and let them do it again. And, unfortunately for the general populous of Albrecht Durer, most things pissed Hitomi off these days.

Before, when everything was simpler, there was no justification for making others suffer. It was wrong, pure and simple. To hurt was bad, to help was good. Things weren't so straightforward anymore. Nothing was black and white. There was way too much grey clouding Hitomi's vision.

Now Hitomi found herself hurting others perpetually, and although she knew in her head that it was wrong, the delicious feeling she got from it was a rush. She had always been the squashed and now she was the squasher. You'd think that if a kid was picked on, they would grow up to know better than to do the same to other people. Apparently it doesn't work like that.

It wasn't the actual process of hurting others that she enjoyed. She didn't take pleasure in that part of it. It was the power. Finding a person's weakness and exploiting it is the most low, dirty, underhanded thing a person can do. It is also the most exhilarating feeling you could get without using drugs. The person knows what you can do to them emotionally and they fear it. They fear you, and the pain that you could cause them with a few simple words. You could taunt them about their past or their dirty secrets if you are clever enough to pick up on them. Or you could reveal them to others, which was probably the thing they were most terrified of. Either way, if they fear you, they won't even try to touch you. Some call it emotional blackmail. Hitomi called it protection. In any case, it made her feel stronger. She felt in control.

Control. Hitomi was desperate for control. Her whole world was spinning out of orbit, and it had a horribly dizzying effect on her. She found herself hating the world and than wanting to save it. She wanted to hurt others, and then she felt this desperate urge to protect them from being other people's doormats. And the most baffling thing of all was that she hated Scratch more than anything else in the whole world...and all she wanted to do, night and day, was kiss him. Her heart jumped into her throat whenever he was around, though she managed to disguise her feelings by looking haughty and pointedly ignoring him.

But the fact was there. She wanted him and no amount of hurt feelings could change that she found him undeniably sexy. Her physical attraction to him was almost overpowering. It left her weak in her convictions. To herself she could say in a reassuring, calm voice that Scratch was most definitely the villain in her world. But if she took one look at him, suddenly she wasn't so sure anymore. Had she really been that free of blame? And everything would abruptly turn upside down. All of a sudden, *she* was the bad guy. Absolutely no control. It was better to do all things with the intention of being bad. It gave strength and a wall to hide behind if things got too confusing. And even better was the fact that people stopped expecting you to be anything but bad. It was so much easier this way.

Looking around, Hitomi realized that she had been standing in the hall, not moving, for some minutes now. She sighed, knowing that remaining motionless in the middle of the hall would never help the situation. She began to shuffle her way down the hall, her destination as of yet undecided. Staying put might even make things worse.

At the other end of the hall stood Lily, who had been assigned to room checking for the weekend. This meant that she would stand at the elevator for five minutes, then walk up and down the halls, briefly looking into each of the rooms before turning back and resuming her station at the elevator doors. Lily was just on her way back to the elevators when Hitomi began to move away from them. Lilly nodded and smiled at Hitomi as she passed.

Hitomi decided that she had better get back to her room, which was at the opposite end of the hall. It would look bad if she just kept walking up and down the corridor, or even worse, stood for a seemingly endless period of time, just staring off into space. Lily would be sure to mention it to Jan if she saw, and that was the last thing that Hitomi wanted.

So she reluctantly began to shift her way down the passage. One, two, three doors went passed. Life was so dull. There was nothing left to do on a Saturday. Suddenly a voice called out at her. "Hey, Hitomi! Get your angsty ass self in here this instant!"

Hitomi grinned to herself. As much as Bella was just as fucked up as the rest of them, not to mention depressed to the point of having hallucinations, a few words out of her mouth could shake you from any foul mood. Bella just couldn't resist making fun of everyone and everything. So Hitomi moved over to the place where the sound had issued from, leaning against the open doorway.

"Hey, Bella. How's it going?" she asked.

Bella shrugged noncommittally. "You?" she asked in return.

Hitomi grinned without humor. "Well, I'm alive, aren't I?" she said pointedly.

Bella snorted. "Well said. Now, let's cease this detestable chatter. Seeing as our not-so-pleasant pleasantries are out of the way, I suggest we get to the point." As usual, Bella wasted no time in stating her demands. "I want my cuff back, bitch!" Bella growled. Now this was what set Bella aside form others. Despite the fact that she always acted as if she was going to bite your head of, either one of them if you were male, underneath, she was just trying to keep from pissing herself with laughter. She found something to make fun of in almost everything. And despite her harsh criticism of people, it was a refreshing change.

"You'll get it back when you get off your lazy ass and fetch it yourself!" snapped Hitomi. "I won't be your errand girl! Besides," she added in a sly voice, "I like it. The spikes on it are much longer than mine." She looked up at Bella and glared. "And don't you even *think* about turning that into a sick joke, you pervert!"

Bella grinned, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Of course not! Me? Make a joke?! Never!" she shouted in mock indignation. Hitomi was about to deliver a biting comeback when a shout from down the hall distracted her. She and Bella simultaneously peered out to see what was going on.

Lily was standing with her arms thrown out on either side of her body, her legs set apart as if bracing against something. Her face was contorted with rage and yelling at the top of her voice to the strange man in front of her. He kept shifting around as if the was trying to get passed her. Bella, who stood very close to Hitomi whispered under her breath, "I don't like this. Something is *wrong*." Hitomi looked back at the scene.

The man was tall, very tall. He could easily beat Dune in height, and he looked about twice as strong. That was saying something. His light blond hair was messy and wild looking as it gleamed under the fluorescent lights of the hospital. Suddenly he stopped moving and for the first time, Hitomi had a clear view of his face.

Something inside of her lurched at the sight. His face was so familiar to her it was eerie. He had an angular face and prominent cheekbones that were covered by a very pale, flawless complexion. His cold eyes shifted to where she and Bella stood. Hitomi gasped, overwhelmed with an inexplicable fear. It left her legs weak and she tried desperately to suppress the nausea that was threatening to take over her body. Who was this man? Why was he here?

He smiled at her, but it did nothing to soften his harsh features. It was a sick smile, like that of a hungry cat who has just found a lame mouse in a corner. Perversion was written all over his features, and it alarmed her.

The blood was pounding in her ears. Some thing was terribly wrong. This man- something horrible was going to happen. She could feel it. Everything else around her faded as the man darted forward and grabbed Lily by the shoulders. He began to shake her up and down with a violence that could not be expressed, a look of glee on his face.

Lily fought back as best she could, kicking and screaming and clawing like a wild cat. Finally, his patience with her wore out and he clubbed her against the temple. Lily's limp body crashed to the floor with a thud. It was a horrible noise, full of crunches, and it seemed to echo in the halls, announcing the oncoming disaster. He paused and made eye contact with Hitomi again.

It was then that it hit her. She *knew* this man. She didn't understand how, but she had seen that face before. He was Scratch's father.

Hitomi felt the ground begin to crumble beneath her feet and the world began to spin. Not stopping to think, she bolted from the doorway. He would follow her, of course. He was expecting her to lead him to Scratch. She was linked to him and somehow he knew it. He could tell, just by looking at her that she was the one person who could lead him to Scratch. And there was no way in hell that she would! She would duck into her room and distract him there. Scratch would still be sulking in his room, annoyed at her for slapping him. In a way it was a good thing that she had. This way, she could protect him. She *would* keep him safe.

Just as she neared the end of the corridor, she looked over her shoulder to check behind her. He was only a couple of meters away from her. She screamed at the top of her lungs, grabbing for the door handle. Before he fingers had the chance to even touch the cold, hard metal a large body-- that *thing's* body-had collided with hers. She was sent flying into the wall, pain shooting through her body. Tears spilling everywhere, she was blinded by the throbbing pain. She heard the door bang open. Thank God Scratch was upstairs. It didn't matter that she was hurt so long as he was upst-

A noise interrupted her thoughts. It was something that made her wilt inside. It was a sound so meaningful and horrible that she felt like she was dying. From inside the room had come a whimper. "Daddy?" He had found Scratch.

Ð Ð Ð

I am ashes

I am Jesus

I am precious

Could I be your girl?

I am worthless sounds

Compared to all your perfect words

Could I be your girl?

-Jann Arden

A noise interrupted her thoughts. It was something that made her wilt inside. It was a sound so meaningful and horrible that she felt like she was dying. From inside the room had come a whimper. "Daddy?" He had found Scratch.

Hitomi felt a wave of guilt sweep over her. She had tried to protect Scratch and all she had succeeded in doing was making things worse. She had done exactly what Corey, Scratch's father, had wanted her to do; she had led him right to Scratch. A sob escaped her lips, but no tears came. She was helpless. There was nothing that she or *anyone* could do to stop him. Lena's bones would break as easily as twigs, Scratch was scared stiff and Hitomi herself could barely see. She *wanted* desperately to be able to just stand up, be strong and save them all, but she couldn't. Fear, pain and self-loathing had taken too much out of her. It was took too much energy to breathe. The world around her was dark and fuzzy. There was something warm and sticky oozing it's way down her back. Blood, no doubt, from where her head had collided with the hard wall. She strained to hear what was going on inside the little room.

"Get out of here," Lena was saying in an all-too-calm voice. "Get out *now*."

"Or what?" sneered the voice, "You'll throw up on me? Because if I remember correctly, that *all* you're good at."

"Don't you dare touch him!" There was the sounds of footsteps and of a dull thud. A scream of pain- female- and then Scratch seemed to regain his voice and his wits.

"You bastard!" he screamed. "How dare you lay a finger on her? You aren't worthy to lick the ground she walks on!" Hitomi tried to blink the fog away from her eyes, knowing that something horrible had happened to Lena. Things were starting to clear. She could see a shape-the doorway.

"That may be true, my boy, but I'm worthy enough to lick-"

"Shut up!"

"Are you going to fight me? Do you want me to be rough?" asked the taunting voice. "Fine." There was a sickening crunch and a howl of pain.

Scratch. He was hurt. That piece of filthy shit had hurt him. Hitomi felt her heart race in her chest as she braced herself against the wall, muscles tense. The edges of the doorway were clearer now, but things were still quite blurred. Good, she thought with satisfaction. Hitomi didn't want to be able to see what awaited her in the room. She pulled her legs up beneath her, ignoring her screaming muscles. She was enraged that Corey had dared lay a hand on *her* Scratch. She planted her hands on either side of her body, fingers spread apart, resting her weight on them.

There were more sounds of violence and fighting coming from inside the room. Hitomi used a sudden sharp cry from Scratch as her cue. Not a second had passed after the guttural sound had issued from his lips before she had launched herself with all of her strength through the open doorway and onto the startled Corey. The force of her weight knocked him to the ground. She began to tear at his face and throat, going for the most vulnerable parts of him, struggling to stay on top of him.

He growled at her. "I thought that I took care of you, Kanzaki," he muttered. Hitomi was too busy trying to clear her pounding head and fight Corey all at the same time to notice that he knew here last name.

He flipped her underneath him and began to punch her mercilessly. Blood seemed to leak out of her entire body. Time slowed down. Surely she had been there, feeling the pounding of his fist against her body, for hours now. Why hadn't someone come to help them? Where was everyone? She was just about to abandon the idea of fighting back when a sharp, blinding pain rocked her body. The bastard had broken her wrist! Hitomi opened her eyes again, adrenaline and the instinct to preserve herself giving her the energy she needed to retaliate. Before she had a chance to try, though, someone else stepped in for her.

"Get off of her this *instant*!" roared a man's voice from the doorway, the tone more filled with hatred and disgust than Hitomi had ever heard. She had never heard Dune like this before. Scratch's father continued to brutalize her body as if he hadn't even heard Dune. "I said get off!" growled Dune, his voice more dangerous now.

"Or you'll do what, exactly?" asked the overly-confident voice.

Dune decided to tell the truth. In a voice so calm and serious it was almost frightening he said, "I will shoot you dead."

The onslaught of hits paused and in that time Hitomi looked up. Dune was standing behind Scratch's father, gun held to Corey's head, finger on the trigger, ready and waiting to pull. His face was livid. Ever so slowly, Corey raised his hands, showing that he surrendered. When he thought that Dune had relaxed, he swung around with frightening speed and used his arms to knock him over. Instantly Dune was up again, for he had expected such an action from Corey. Without hesitating for a second, Dune applied the little pressure that was needed and shot Corey in the foot.

Corey screamed in agony and bent over, fingers clasped around his bleeding foot. Dune took this opening to smash the butt of the gun into Corey's head as hard as he could. As the man crumpled to the floor, Hitomi realized that she could now move without fear of being noticed and beaten again. As Dune checked to ensure that Corey was in fact unconscious, Hitomi made her way over to where the bodies of her friends lay in a crumpled heap. She began to shake them with her good arm, desperate to wake them up, to know that they were alright.

A strong pair of hands pulled her away. "Sshh. They'll be alright," Dune said this over and over again like a mantra in a soft, reassuring voice as he pulled her into his arms, careful to avoid hurting her wrist.

"Promise?" she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion and fear. She felt him nod. Dune's promise was good enough for her. She leaned into him, and then she began to sob uncontrollably. Together she and Dune sank to the ground, neither of them able to handle the emotional strain of the events any longer. As they waited for the police and the ambulance to arrive, Dune sat rocking the still sobbing Hitomi back and forth in his arms. He prayed, fervently, desperately to any god that was out there that he could keep his promise to her. He prayed that they would all be alright.

Ð Ð Ð

kono doko made mo tsuzuku shiroi daichi wa fukaku mata ochiteyuku boku wa dare ni mo iyasenai

Deeply in this endlessly continuing white earth I'm still falling and cannot be healed by anyone

sono chiisana karada o tsutsumu you ni sekirei no yasashisa ni dakare...

Like being enveloped in that small body I'm embraced by the wagtail's kindness...

-Gackt

Hitomi was sick of hospital beds, it almost made her want to puke. Or, better yet, kill the imbecile that invented them. They were designed *specially* to make you feel more sick than you actually were, not to mention the horrible sensation that you were being held prisoner in some sort of penitentiary. All medical hospitals had beds like this. They were cold and hard, and had horrible restraining belts on either side of the mattress. Even at AD they didn't have those. A narcoleptic would have a hard time getting a decent night's rest on one of these slabs of metal. And Hitomi *didn't* have narcolepsy.

She had spent the night in the "local" hospital. Local her ass. It was a two hour drive in an *ambulance*. But it was the best medical health center to be found...anywhere. When they had arrived at the *other* hospital, they had looked so badly beaten that they immediately put them in a second ambulance and shipped them off here. She couldn't blame them really. A low budget, overcrowded hospital does *not* want to deal with one giant bloody mess of torn muscle, broken bones and horribly twisted limbs. God, all she wanted to do was go home.

Then it hit her. AD had become her home. It was where she felt at peace. When she had been in AD before, the sole purpose of her life was to get out again, to experience the real world, get her life back on track. Suddenly that idea had been broken, and was replaced by something else. The horror of what had happened to them all only yesterday kept playing over and over again in her head. And being here, in the supposed "real" world that was outside of AD...it made her just want to crawl back into a little hole and hide forever.

She didn't want to leave AD. As bizarre as that sounded, there was something that, until she had been dragged away from it, she hadn't even noticed. There was an underlying feeling that *this* was where she was supposed to be. Not in some career, not as a high school student, not as a mother. It was like fate had brought her to AD because that was where she was meant to stay. Hitomi had readily accepted this. It wouldn't be torture to stay there. She would have people to talk to that *actually* understood her. She had her closest friends there. Bella, Tamara, Lena...and Scratch. She wanted to stay with Scratch more than anything else. She felt tied to him. Her soul was a reflection of his. She couldn't help but hurt inside when he was suffering. Yesterday, seeing him crumpled on the floor, whimpering in pain, and most of all, primal terror, it had made Hitomi want to die.

In the ambulance on the way to the hospital, Hitomi had stayed wide awake. She didn't want to close her eyes, for fear that everything would suddenly and mysteriously stop. Everything. She had just lay there on the stretcher between Scratch and Lena, gripping their hands so hard that had they been conscious, they would have complained endlessly. She felt like she was holding the life in them by their hands, and if she let go, even for a moment, their souls would slip away into nothingness, never to come back.

Scratch had seemed so lifeless, so empty, that a horrible void began to grow inside of her, this vacuum without feelings. Something in her had shut down. She no longer felt hope. It was the numbness to anything positive. She wouldn't have been surprised if they *had* died in that ambulance, on some God forsaken empty highway.

She tried to look back and remember what the exact sequence of events had been, but the images that flashed before had no definite order; everything was blurred beyond recognition. The room didn't even look like hers. The pictures became less and less frequent and coherent the more she tried. She could remember almost nothing of when the police and ambulance had arrived. She didn't even know where they had taken Corey. All she saw, over and over again in her head, was the gleam in his eyes at he looked at her from down the hall and the sick, snake-like voice he used when he had said, "I'm good enough to lick-"

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Thank God, for it was a new day, and she wanted nothing more than to get yesterday's events out of her mind. She was decent, the hospital had given her some actual nightclothes that *weren't* see-through. But she was hesitant about seeing anyone. She should though, if only to see who it was. Jan would want to talk to her, if it *was* her at the door. So would Dune. In fact, she couldn't remember seeing *either* of them after the police arrived. She shrugged to herself. They were probably making statements against Corey as she lay there.

Jan had probably stayed away this long for a good reason, and Hitomi wasn't in the mood to fret over every little thing that happened. She wished that one of them would come, though. They might have news of Lena and Scratch. As the nurses bustled in and out all night, none of the many could tell her anything about her friends. She had just sat there all night, staring at her unspoiled white cast, wishing that something would happen. A second, louder knock made Hitomi realize that she had just been sitting there, thinking, and *ignoring* the person behind the door for almost a minute now.

"Come in!" she called out. The door opened slowly, and there was a pause before her guest stepped into view, as if they were hesitant. As a pair of heavily lashed brownish red eyes peered around the door at her, widening as they saw her, and the face came into full view, Hitomi felt her heart sink three feet closer to the ground, out of both happiness and apprehension. It was Van.

She quickly sat up. She waved him over to the seat closest to her, but he didn't even budge. His eyes were transfixed on her. His face wore an expression of bewilderment.

"I said, get you're non-existent ass in here this moment, Van Fanel! Stop standing there. People will think that you've grown roots or something!" she said in mock annoyance. He grinned wryly and moved over to the chair. Instead of sitting in it though, he moved it over so it was right beside the bed and he could face Hitomi. Then he sat down.

With his face only two feet away from hers, Hitomi could now see things that she hadn't before. His hair was messy and uncombed. His eyes were full of sleep they were red, as if he had been crying or hadn't gotten any sleep at all. Maybe both. His lower lip was swollen and irritated looking, and she could see bite marks on it. Hitomi felt a wave of affection for him. He must have been really worried about them.

"I can't believe that you're here, Van. Why- how are you here so quickly? You live days away!" Hitomi's eyes widened as Van reached over and took her hand in his, entwining his fingers in hers and kissing the tip of her thumb. It was an incredibly intimate gesture for someone who had only met her once in his life, but for some reason, Hitomi didn't particularly mind. When she was with Van, she felt like he had *always* spoken to her with affection and kissed her hand. It was like he was *supposed* to do that when they were together. And, to her immense relief,*none* of his fond behaviors to her contained any sexual connotations that she could pick up.

When Van spoke, his voice was hoarse and tired. "Dune called me while you three were on your way to the hospital yesterday. I immediately hopped a plane and got ever here. I had to go see Dune first and find out exactly what the situation was, but I arrived here about two hours ago." He smiled wryly and said with an odd twinge in his voice, "I couldn't just leave my three fledgling lunatics in the incompetent hands of the general population, now could I?" Hitomi chuckled.

"Have you had the chance to see Scratch or Lena yet?" asked Hitomi eagerly. She was positively *itching* to see them. And if she couldn't see them she would have to settle for second best; she *had* to know how to were doing.

Van shook his head. "Unfortunately not. Scratch and Lena were sedated almost as soon as they got here. They only just woke up this morning and are still being tested for medical abnormalities. The staff is 'unsure as to their state (both mentally and physically) and cannot give you a precise time as to when they will be available to visitors,'" he said in a high pitched voice, obviously mocking some rather stuck up nurse or doctor that had thought it their responsibility to shoo Van away.

"Luckily," he continued in jovial tone, "I am not easily swayed. I was such a thorn in their sides that they just *had* to tell me where to find you. I don't think that they could have stood me for a second longer."

Hitomi chuckled. It was so relaxing, just sitting here and chatting with Van. She had missed being able to laugh when Scratch was angry at her. And vice versa of course. Hitomi intended to rectify that situation as soon as she saw Scratch.

She knew that by all rights, she *should* be miserable and terrified of everything, but she wasn't. She felt strangely elated at that moment. Assuming that Scratch and Lena were fine, everything was good for her. She could get to talk to Scratch again, and everything would being to move forward again. Hitomi wanted nothing more than to put yesterday's events behind her for good. There was something in the air that just made her want to laugh. Or maybe it was whatever drugs they had forced down her throat starting to kick in. Whatever it was, Hitomi was sure that Van's presence helped.

There was a silence, and Hitomi felt herself being to squirm under Van's intense gaze. Why was he looking at her like that? He just kept staring at her. He was barely even blinking. Hitomi cleared her throat pointedly. Van blinked, as if startled, and then flushed in embarrassment at being caught staring.

"Van?" she asked, her voice so low it was almost a whisper.

"What was that all about?" He reached out and touched her face ever so gently. His calloused fingers soothingly brushed over her cheek. "You look so different from when I last saw you that- well, it was a bit of a shock to see you like this. I hadn't really mentioned it before because I had other things on my mind, but just now, it became so obvious, it was hard not to stare."

It was true. She looked entirely different from the last time that she had seen him. Almost a different person. Her face was sickly pale and her cheeks seemed drawn in. There were dark smudges around her eyes and on her lips where the doctors had made a futile attempt to remove her makeup from yesterday. There were grey streaks down her face, marking the paths her tears had taken down her face, and she was covered with horrible, swollen bruises. Her lips were split and dark. It was a horrible sight, and her black hair made the bruises look even more prominent than they normally would have.

Hitomi looked at him, puzzled. Sure, she had black hair now, but that wouldn't change her all that much, would it? Then, for the first time that she could remember, she got out of bed. Her limbs were stiff and sore as she padded her way across the cold floor, but it felt good to be up, none the less. She flicked on the bathroom light and shrieked. Hitomi whirled around to look at him, her eyes wild and frenzied.

"I can't believe you've seen me in a state like this! I look horrible! I look like a corpse!" she wailed. Van took his cue. He knew better than to stick around a female who was agonizing over her looks. He stood up and headed for the door.

"Well, I have a phone call to make. How about you get yourself cleaned up a bit and then we can take a walk together. Maybe we can ask the doctors about seeing Scratch and Lena." Hitomi nodded, grateful that Van understood that she needed a little time to herself now.

He had his hand on the door and was about to leave when he abruptly turned around and crossed the room to where she stood in a few quick strides. He gathered her small, bruised body up in his arms and whispered in her ear, "I am so glad that you're alright." Then he gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead and he was gone. Hitomi smiled herself as she turned on the shower. For some reason, no doubt silly and childish, the knowledge that Van really cared for her set her body tingling with a strange warmth. She felt kind of fuzzy inside. Now all she had to do was hold on to that feeling and not let the bad ones worm their way inside. Well, that and get this gunk off of her face. It was one thing to look Goth. It was another thing entirely to look like shit.

Ð Ð Ð

Place of silence, moving shadows

Crimson eyes are strangely gleaming in the darkness

Madness starting to awake

Playful desire starving of blood

Get down limitless night

Beast of Blood

-Malice Mizer

Van hung up the phone, a horrible anxiety settling into the bottom of his stomach. This was bad. Worse than Van could have imagined was possible when Dune had called him. He closed his eyes wearily and rested his head against the payphone in front of him. He just wished that this had never happened. He *needed* his brother to be alright with a fervor that was unlike him.

"Van!" He looked up to see Hitomi about twenty meters down the hall from him, waving her good arm cheerily. He smiled at her and waved at her, indicating that she should come over to where he was.

She looked so much better now. Her face had lost it's grayness and sick pallor. The hot water from the shower had flushed it a little, so she looked as one would if they had stood outside in the winter. Her green eyes looked so much more alert and alive without the dark rings around them making her look like a raccoon. She was still wearing the same hospital pajamas, but she had rolled up the pants and tied the shirt at the sides so that it didn't look like she was going to drown in fabric. Her glistening black hair had been pulled back into a tight braid which was slung over her shoulder. Van took it as a good sign that she had reacted so badly to her own appearance. If she could get so upset over such a trivial thing after yesterday's events, she must be coping really well.

Hitomi was now standing beside him. "Who were you talking to?" she asked him as they moved away from the phone and towards the waiting room adjacent to ward.

"Jan," he answered shortly, not wanting to talk about it.

"Oh," said Hitomi, looking hurt. Van instantly regretted being so short with her. He took her elbow in his hand and began to steer her towards another hallway. She wasn't supposed to be out of bed, but now that she was, they might as well go somewhere.

"Where are we going, Van?" Hitomi was still slightly miffed and Van could tell. Not slowing down for a second he said, "I want to find out if we can see Scratch or Lena." He took a look at her through the corner of his eye. "Look, Hitomi, I'm sorry for my tone just a second ago. I'm just worried about something and I didn't think that it was a good idea to tell you about it. You've already got enough to worry about without burdening you with this." Contrary to what Van had hoped, Hitomi stopped dead in her tracks.

"What do you mean?" she asked, enunciating every word clearly and slowly as if he was deaf. He tried to propel her further down the corridor but she stood firm, refusing to budge.

"Please, Hitomi-" his tone was beseeching. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me exactly what is going on, Van Fanel!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. Van looked around anxiously to see if anyone was coming to take Hitomi back to her room.

"Hitomi, be quiet!" he hissed. "You're not allowed to be out of bed and if we get caught, the doctors will have my head! We can't let them see you!"

Hitomi promptly began to scream with all her might, "Black socks, they never get dirty, the longer you wear them the stronger they-"

"Alright, alright! I'll tell you!" he roared. Suddenly the hall was filled with a growing silence. The lack of screaming consumed the hall as Hitomi stood looking up into Van's face with big innocent eyes as if she had never done anything bad in her life. "If I tell you, will you be satisfied, you little wench?" he growled at her, only half angry.

"Yep."

In a calmer voice he added, "Just…keep walking. I'll tell you as we go. We don't want to get caught now do we?" Hitomi complied as if she had *never* intended to get him caught. She was so exasperating at times.

Van seemed to know where he was going, because he walked with a knowing step, as if he had been down this hall a billion times and there was nothing that could possibly surprise him about it. Hitomi on the other hand, had never been in this hospital in her entire life, but she didn't want to look like an idiot, so she just followed Van's lead.

After a few moments he spoke. "Remember that I am telling you this strictly against my will."

"Yeah, yeah. Just get on with it," she urged.

He sighed. "I'm sure that you've been wondering why Jan and Dune haven't been able to visit you guys yet, huh?" he asked, his voice strangely labored.

"Yeah, actually," Hitomi replied, "It's so unlike them to not care. They're always at AD. It's like our mental stability is the only important thing in their lives, they usually care that much."

"Well, it's not because they don't care," snapped Van. "Jan will be up here as soon as she can. She might even be here sometime this evening. But Dune...he-" a horrible dread settled upon Hitomi. Her stomach tried to climb up her esophagus. Van seemed barely able to continue. He was so overwhelmed with emotion; disgust and...pain?

Something was really wrong. There was something the matter with Dune.

Of course, Hitomi had *known* Dune before yesterday. He was always at AD. Every single blooming day. In the halls, in the caf, outside of class, and of course helping Jan with every group therapy session. He was a great listener, not to mention incredibly smart. Whenever Hitomi was falling behind in math or science class, it was Dune that she went to for help. He was amazing with teens, always making them feel older, more mature and more *sane* than they actually were. He was a friend. And most importantly, he had guts. He had saved them all yesterday. He had succeeded where Hitomi and had tried to save Scratch and Lena, and failed, ending up getting pretty beaten up herself. Luckily for them- no. It hadn't been Lady Luck. It was Dune's quick thinking and his amazing understanding of how the human brain worked that had saved them. That and a 24 caliber pistol. *Now*, she no longer respected Dune. She worshipped him. And she knew, intuitively that something horrible had happened to him. That was why Van had been late in seeing her. He had to-

Hitomi grabbed Van's arm and jerked him back so hard he almost fell over. "Tell me," she growled, her voice powerful and imposing, "Tell me what happened to Dune this instant!"

Van looked at her for a moment, his eyes burning, hating the world at large. Then he said, "Alright! Dune's been arrested for attempted manslaughter. Now let's keep moving!" he snarled as he grabbed her shoulder and began to push her down the hall. Surrendering to the feelings of grief and shock that overwhelmed her she allowed herself to cry in horrible chocking sobs until Van stopped, pulling her into his arms. Somehow, she felt responsible for Dune's imprisonment. She always managed to fuck things up.

Ð Ð Ð

It was me and a gun

And a man on my back

And I sang "Holy holy"

As he buttoned down his pants

-Tori Amos

Hitomi sat in one of the cheaply cushioned plastic chairs that were firmly attached to the walls of the waiting room. She had her head supported by one arm and the other hand was picking idly at a tear in the garish orange seat beside her.

There were only five other people who were in the waiting room. There was a woman who was the size of a mammoth, her lips decorated with a tasteless hot pink lipstick and her face was drowning in foundation that was too dark. She kept battering her poor husband who was sitting beside her with her polka dot purse. They were waiting to be able to visit their daughter, who was in the hospital because she was a mild anorexic.

The husband seemed a rather meek creature, nodding his head and murmuring passive and docile remarks in the suitable pauses in his wife's continuous rant and complaints about her husband, the doctor, the hospital and the world in general. Hitomi felt her heart go out to the daughter. Poor creature.

A young secretary sat behind a desk with a phone cradled on her shoulder, her brightly painted mouth rapidly moving up and down with every crack of bubblegum. She had the appearance of one who wasn't quite the brightest bulb in the box. On the desk, overtop of a pile of disorganized files, her long fingers were spread out so that she could paint them with more precision.

Van stood talking with the doctor in the open doorway into the "Mental Health" corridor which was adjacent to the waiting room. He was biting his lower lip again; a sign that he was under great stress. His fists were by his side, clenched so that his knuckles were plainly visible as white spots. He took a step closer to the doctor, deliberately invading the other man's space. His mouth was moving, so Hitomi supposed that he was uttering some quiet threats, but she couldn't be sure because his voice was no more than a mumble across the room. Van had said to her earlier that he wanted to see Scratch and Lena and he was damned if some pompous ass doctor who cheated his way through university was going to stand in his way.

Hitomi let her thoughts wander back to the rest of the conversation with Van in the hall. He had released some of his anger by raging up and down the halls while Hitomi was too shocked to say anything. Quickly forcing himself to calm down, he took Hitomi's hand in his and began to work his way across the hospital once more.

He proceeded to explain the situation to Hitomi. Being more artistically inclined, she didn't quite understand all of the legal jargon, but what it boiled down to was this: an innocent, brave man was being wronged. He should receive a medal for his bravery and instead the law was punishing him. It made Hitomi sick.

Corey was being charged with physical assault and attempted rape. He *could* have been charged with attempted murder, but he was a smooth talker, immediately playing up how he was a victim to Dune's violence and "unprovoked" attack with a gun. He was knowledgeable in the ways of the law. He knew which rules could be twisted to his advantage. He shifted the whole story to something completely different. Now, Dune was being charged for attempted homicide along beside the attempted rapist Corey.

At first, Hitomi couldn't even see what grounds Corey had to charge Dune with. Van explained it all to her in a weary, strained voice that made her want to just wrap her arms around him and tell him that everything would be alright.

Dune had shot Corey in the foot after uttering a death threat. That was all the material they needed to lay a case against him. This could be really serious if Corey's lawyer was a quick thinker and played his cards right. They could claim that it was only by misfortune that Dune missed when he shot Corey in the foot. They could say that he had tried to kill Corey and had merely missed. If Dune tried to argue that it was merely self defense, this statement would be waved away immediately. Corey would find a way around that. He would tell the judge that he hadn't so much as looked at Dune, which was true, before he had threatened Corey. As for protecting Scratch and Lena, it was not his legal responsibility. He should not have taken the law into his own hands. Corey would say all these things and more when they were to be brought before court in a month.

This alone was infuriating. The thought of that *slime ball* even daring to say these things about Dune made her want to kill something. But the thing that made her blood positively boil was the fact that if both accused men were found guilty, Corey would get off with as little as five years in a penitentiary…and Dune would be imprisoned for life. She could only thank the gods that they weren't in the United States. At least in Canada they weren't as barbaric as to kill innocent people.

Hitomi felt a pounding, burning rage rise from within her. It was as unbidden and reflexive as bile in one's throat. She tried to choke it down. The blood was thudding in her head and the noises that surrounded her…the woman's high-pitched squawks of contempt and the man's soft, pathetic grunts, the sound of feet pacing back and forth across the shiny floor, every once in a while the soles on linoleum would elicit a rubbery squeak. The senseless chatter of the secretary and the nerve shattering crack of bubblegum…all of these sounds an more blended together to form this nightmare symphony from hell. It kept playing over and over in her head like a broken record.

The tiles beneath her feet began to shift, making images before Hitomi's very eyes. She stared at the ground, watching as the black and white miracle tiles moved like molten lava to form the image of Scratch, prostrate on the ground, then of an old fashioned balancing scale. The last image had a sinister quality to it; a sense of foreboding. It was a set of bars, and behind them was a face. It was barely recognizable to be-

Van's hand on her shoulder started Hitomi from her world where everyday sounds drove her crazy and she could rely on floor patterns to predict the future.

"How are you holding up, chicklet?" he asked tiredly as he sat down beside her. The chair made a soft creak as he leaned back as far as he could and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. They both were.

"Alright, I guess. A little scared," she added in a soft voice. Van opened his eyes a crack and looked at her through the corner of his eye. His lips moved slightly, changing his expression from weary to a small, reassuring smile.

"What did the doctors say?" asked Hitomi. She felt her eyes beginning to get heavy from lack of sleep. Van yawned.

"They said that we could wait here if we wanted to see them, but they didn't know when that would be." He grimaced at the thought of waiting in this empty, boring place for hours at a time.

"So we stay?" asked Hitomi hopefully. She wanted to be here the second that Lena and Scratch were allowed to see her. Van grinned at her, touched and amazed, not for the first time, by the love that Hitomi felt for Scratch and Lena.

"We stay," he said firmly. Then, looking like a small child, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "For now," he continued with drowsy words, "I suggest we get some rest. I'm beat."

"Movement passed unanimously." Van stretched out his long legs, moving around to make sure that he would be comfortable. He quickly settled himself and seemed to doze off.

Hitomi had more difficulty finding a restful position. She twisted her neck this way and that, trying to find a comfortable position for sleeping. After several minutes of shuffling around, Van sighed, exasperated.

"If you stretch your body out along those chairs there and use my legs as a pillow, at least one of us might actually be able to get some sleep. And by that I mean me. You are making way too much noise," he complained.

Hitomi was surprised. That was the type of thing she was used to doing with Lena or Bella, not with people that she had only me twice, even if it *was* Van. Hitomi looked up at Van for reassurance and found none from his sleeping face. The ball was in her court. She shrugged inwardly. If Van was alright with it, who was she to fuss? Settling herself down, she looked up at his blank, sweet face and smiled.

Ð Ð Ð

Underwater, I wrote drowning

I used to be such a good good swimmer

But for now my head is in the clouds

I'm a silly love song

A silly banging knee song

-Teagan and Sara

Standing in front of the coffee machine, his finger pressed against the little red flashing button, Van waited for his cup to fill. His let his thoughts wander.

He had left Hitomi back in the waiting room. Van had woken up only a few minutes ago and found himself with a unpleasantly dry, sticky mouth and his stomach eating it's way through his spine. That's when he remembered that he hadn't had enough time to eat for almost two days. He had been too busy hopping and transferring planes, calling lawyers, discussing with his brother and Jan, and now staying at the hospital to think about such trivial matters as staying alive.

Hitomi had been sleeping, so he gently moved her head from his lap and onto the little plastic chair where he had sat. He had found himself this little self-serve cafeteria a floor down and decided that Hitomi would probably be in desperate need of some food and a little java.

Hitomi had been so tired earlier. No one could blame her. She had witnessed many shocking things since she had come to AD, and more than ever in the past few days. She was probably spending all of her energy on mastering the hard-learned gift of repression. It would offer her some temporary relief from whatever she was experiencing. Van wasn't going to be the one to tell her that in a few years she would realize that repression only fuels your unhappiness. He had only discovered this recently and knew that if someone had told him before he was ready to discover it himself, he probably would have had a fit. Everyone knew, somewhere deep inside their subconscious what they needed right there and then to keep functioning. If Hitomi needed time to distance herself from the events of the past few days, he wouldn't be the one to stand in her way.

His relationship with Hitomi was an enigma to him. Emotions, hormones and morals fought against each other for dominance whenever he was in her presence. He knew in his heart that she wasn't the one he wanted. He understood that without a doubt.

He objected to his desire for something more than friendship with Hitomi for more than one reason. The first and most obvious reason to avoid a relationship was the age gap. He was twenty one and she was still just a child who was struggling to understand herself, let alone try and deal with such mature emotions. It would be unfair for her if they were in a relationship together. She might feel pressured by his age to do *physical* things that she wasn't ready for. That was the last thing that Van wanted her to do.

Another obvious reason to never even *think* of her in that way was Scratch. Van had been told all about the way that Scratch had reacted to Hitomi kissing another guy, and they hadn't even started dating. It hadn't surprised Van in the least. After all, he had dated Scratch as well. Well, you couldn't exactly *date* someone when you were locked up in an insane asylum, but there were *other* things you could do.

An impish grin flitted over Van's face. He and Scratch had always had a blast in those days-whether in bed or out. But they just weren't suited for each other. Scratch was jealous and possessive. Van was argumentative and exasperated with Scratch all the time. But it still could have worked out it if hadn't been for this one, huge gap between their mentalities. Van knew that you could love someone without wanting to hurt them. Without hating them. Scratch just couldn't grasp that concept. His world revolved around anger. He caused others pain so that he wouldn't feel his. Van had gotten sick of it.

Despite the fact that Scratch was only two years younger than Van, he was so very, very immature sometimes. When calm, Scratch was the most intelligent, well-spoken philanthropist that ever graced the earth. Get him angry or worse yet, jealous, and he could be likened to a spoiled toddler who was having a temper tantrum.

The final blow to their relationship had come when Jan had announced to Van that he was free to leave Albrecht Durer. She told him with a real true smile that he was now considered to be stable. He could exist and *live* in the everyday world now.

Telling Scratch had been the hardest thing Van had ever done. The younger boy, still only seventeen then, didn't-*couldn't* understand that Van really was cured; that he was different from Scratch. He had uttered over and over again that Van couldn't be leaving-he was supposed to be just as crazy as Scratch! Van had shook his head and sighed, knowing very well that no explanation he gave to Scratch would satisfy the resentful teen. And yet, he felt he owed it to him. Van had, after all, been the one to call things off. Even now, two years later, Van still felt a pang of remorse when he thought abo ut the way he had left Scratch.

He had told Scratch in a calm, clear voice that, yes, Van was just as crazy as Scratch, but he was different too. He had cleared away all the tangles in his mind. He could see things now that he couldn't have possibly have seen before. Like that all the people in AD really *were* sick. He more than knew what his own problems were, he *understood* them.

Scratch had told him to shut his face if the only thing that he could say was brainwashed bullshit. He turned away from Van, making his meaning clear. It was over.

They never spoke of their relationship now. They played a game called Let's Pretend. It was a verbal dance, trying to be polite, friendly, informal, yet avoiding all the dangerous subjects as if they were the plague. Van made sure that they were never in close physical contact for long. It was bizarre, he knew, but even after all this time, he still didn't trust himself around the boy.

Scratch had a malicious charisma that drew people to him everywhere he went, and even if they knew what a little demon he could become, just like Hitomi and Van did, they were still trapped in this irresistible pull. He was a born leader. He had more disturbed magnetism than Hitler himself. And like Hitler, he knew what he wanted, and no matter how cruel it was, he went to any lengths to get it. Scratch had this insatiable hunger inside of him, like at the center of his being was the yawning void. Van had been relieved when he left. It meant that he would never have to try and fill Scratch ever again. He had wanted to fix Scratch so much, but it would take more than Van's imperfect hands to make Scratch heal.

He also knew that despite all of Scratch's viciousness, Hitomi could hold her own against him. That was something that Van never did. He always gave into the boys' whims. Van knew deep down that he was weak; Hitomi was strong. It was clear who should be with who.

There was a strength of will inside Hitomi like he had never before seen. It shone through her carefully crafted mask of ordinariness in everything that she did. If anyone could move Scratch to become a little more...humane, it was Hitomi. Somewhere, deep down, Lena and Van had always known that she would stand tall- and that her shadow would encompass all of them.

When they had first discovered Gaea and it was still a novelty to them, it was Hitomi who they had pegged as the hero. It was clear, even from childhood that she was the Princess in shining armor, sword brandished in one hand, the other callously flipping the bird to Van and Scratch, their parents and the world at large. Not that any of them except for Van remembered Gaea now...

"That'll be $15.49, deary," said an old, feminine, rather nasal voice. Van looked up surprised. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed what he was doing. He had picked up random packaged goods off of the cafeteria shelves and deposited them at the cash register. He had ended up with almost a grocery bag of junk food. He shrugged to himself as he put the money on the counter and he handed him his change. She bagged the food and gave it to him, smiling. He must have looked kind of upset.

He felt like taking a walk. He would just take the long route back to the waiting room; he didn't want to get lost and Hitomi wouldn't want her coffee cold. He set off, bags in hand and began to retrace his thought patterns to figure out where he had left off.

Ah. Hitomi was a sweet girl, no doubt, and whenever she was around, Van felt an overwhelming urge to-to what? That was part of his problem. He didn't know or understand what he wanted when he was around Hitomi. He wasn't going to risk experimenting to find out though.

All of the feelings that he thought he was experiencing were probably just residue from what Van and Jan have coined as "The Gaea Incident". In Gaea, he had loved Hitomi, and she him. After all, they *were* the good guys there. They had played the roles so often that Van found it hard to uncover who he really was anymore.

Besides, Gaea was their reality *then*. It was nothing more than a hazy memory now- not even that. No matter how real it had been back then, it had nothing to do with their lives here and now. They had been younger then, but this was where they belonged. After all, in reality, there *were* no bad guys- except for that rodent, Corey- just misunderstood people. Another thing that was different here was how it felt like everything- the *entire world* was on the backburner so that Scratch and Hitomi could live in the lime light. It seemed like it didn't matter what anyone else did- that was their business- but anything that they felt and did was trivial and insignificant to what Hitomi and Scratch were experiencing.

They had that power in them. There was this commanding force, not only in their personalities, but in *them*, as a couple. Everything they felt and saw was magnified a thousand times. It could easily be said that the words passion, rage, fervor, obsession and infatuation had been invented *just* to describe them. They were always in one extreme or another. Van had sensed this, even in Florida, when Lena spoke of them with the crackle of bad reception muffling her voice. It was who they were, and Van wouldn't change it for the world. Although it was annoying that they were so wrapped up in their own twisted little world to notice the people around them, and Van wasn't the only person who felt that way. Lena did too.

Lena was the last, but most important reason why Van would never pursue anything more beyond friendship with Hitomi.

The way he felt about Lena was too hard to explain, even to himself. He cared about her, naturally. They were best friends. But then again, Hitomi and Scratch were also his best friends and he never felt the comfort with them that he did when he was with Lena.

It had been creeping up on him slowly, this strange affection he had for the girl. It had taken him years to realize that his friendship with Lena was special. Some might just argue that it was the hormones of a young man seizing his brain. Perhaps they would say that he only cared because she was beautiful, if too thin for her own good. Van knew in his head that she was one of the most gorgeous girls he had ever seen, but it just didn't register in his heart. It wasn't for looks or sex appeal that he loved her company. In all honesty, he wouldn't care if she weighed four hundred pounds. He didn't care if things ever progressed in *that* direction either. Lena was just Lena, and he needed nothing else from her.

On the flight from Florida, all he could think about was how fragile she was, and how he missed talking with her face to face. His feelings for Lena were not of the passionate kind. Van was sick of fervor of any sort. Who needed to have feelings so strong that they hurt you instead of making you feel good? No. That wasn't what he wanted and that wasn't what he felt. Leave the burning desire to Hitomi and Scratch.

This was something much better than passion. If passion was a sunburn you got from being reckless, this feeling he got from Lena was the healing Aloe Vera. He wouldn't cry if she never returned his feelings. He wouldn't want to be ripped apart irreparably if she died. Even in his day that sounded horrible, but it was the truth. It was a feeling that existed in the moment of being with her. He had lived without it before and could do it again, but at the same time he knew that he never had a better chance of being happy than if he spent every day of his life with Lena. Forget sex, forget love; just sitting with her, talking endlessly...that was Van's idea of heaven. Of course, he would never say these things out loud. Lena wouldn't understand them yet. She was too young. But Van just knew that she would see things the way he did, someday.

Back in the waiting room, Hitomi was awake. She jumped up as he entered the room.

"Van!" she exclaimed in delight as she scrambled over to him and eagerly unloaded him of his food and now-cold coffee. Immediately she began to rummage around until she found some sort of chocolate cake with a cream filling that seemed to suit her fancy. She opened the packing with a pop and fell on the cake like a starving wolf. Van chuckled at her and ruffled her hair playfully. Hitomi looked up, suddenly, as if she had just remembered something.

"The doctor came out a couple of minutes ago and talked to me," said Hitomi through a mouthful of crumbs.

"And? What did he say?" asked Van carefully, his tone revealing nothing. It was too hard to tell from Hitomi's voice whether the news was good or bad. He brace himself for the worse.

"The doctors are finished with Lena for now and she is resting down there," she said as she pointed to a little room at the end of the hallway. She smiled at Van encouragingly. "She said that she wanted to see you as soon as you got back."

Van looked at her for a moment, not understanding her expression. Then he realized it. Hitomi already grasped that Lena was precious to him. Her eyes seemed to be saying "Go on. You know you want to."

"Thank you," he whispered as he brushed past Hitomi. He smiled to himself as he made his way across the hall to where he would find Lena- the only girl in the world who made him happy...and the girl who was alive and well. Life was looking up.

Ð Ð Ð

Let me touch your hand

It's then I understand

The beauty that lurks within.

Your everywhere to me

And when I catch my breath it's you I breathe

You're everything I know that makes me believe I'm not alone

You're in everyone I see

So tell me...do you see me?

Sit down, shut up, do what you're told, don't talk back, lose the attitude. That's all these bloody doctors and nurses had to say to Scratch all day. They had been poking him with various questionable looking, ice cold metal instruments that appeared to be more appropriate for torture than medicine. Scratch hated hospitals even more than he hated Marly.

This hellish day had begun sometime in the mid-morning when Scratch woke up with an aching body and a disturbingly clear, calm mind. It must have been sometime after eleven because the sun was already high in the sky and was streaming in through his open window.

Ignoring his body's protests which were becoming more and more insistent by the second, he climbed out of bed and pulled the blinds down with a rough jerk of his hand. His muscles were screaming but Scratch was too annoyed by the sun's bright, intrusive rays to care. All that mattered was that he had some peace...and darkness.

Who wanted to wake up to UV rays burning your retinas to little pieces of charcoal anyways? Some nurse who was probably filled to the brim with disgusting notions of maternal affection had most likely opened the window in some pathetic attempt to bring Scratch 'back to the light', or something else just as ridiculous. Stupid cow, he thought to himself rather savagely.

As he sat back down in his make shift bed, he felt something deep inside of him twist and he doubled over in agony. His chest was filled with this pain that seemed to emerge from his very core. It was a hot, bubbling, *blinding* pain. It took all of Scratch's willpower and pride to keep the tears that were threatening to come at bay.

He tried to sit up again, but that sent another wave of pain through his torso. He paused for a moment to think. He decided that no matter how much he usually *liked* pain, he wasn't going to risk feeling that again.

Instead of trying to sit up, he crawled his way across the bed ever so slowly. He moved himself so that his face was at the opposite end from the pillow and slowly, gingerly rolled himself onto his back.

He lifted up the hospital-donated shirt that he wore, disgusted by the flowery pastel patterns that were the ever present theme of the hospital- even in men's pajamas it appeared. He twisted his head around to get a closer look at the cause of his pain.

It became obvious at once what the origin of his pain was; underneath his pale, hairless skin, one of his bones was jutting out at a rather horrifying angle. It was a disgusting sight, and it contorted his body in a way that Scratch wasn't at all pleased with.

//Just great,// he thought as he pulled the shirt back down. //Precisely what I wanted for Christmas, Daddy- a broken rib,// he thought as he sneered in disgust. Of all the stupid injuries to get, this was probably the worst. It would be such an inconvenience. And he just *knew* that it hadn't been that bad when he had woken up. Something in the movement of his pulling down the blinds had probably made it worse than it had to be.

The situation was rather amusing, once Scratch looked at it properly. He felt the corners of his mouth twist up. Yesterday, he had been in a life or death situation. His father was a man with no conscience. He wouldn't have thought twice about killing Scratch and Lena--- only after he raped them of course. And today, Scratch was bitching about a petty little broken bone. As always, he managed to come off like an ungrateful wretch.

Unthankfulness...that wasn't the case at all. He was *so* grateful that he had come out of that whole incident with only a broken bone, no matter how much it hurt. And he still had his sanity-or at least he hadn't gone *more* insane. He just didn't want to ponder on the previous day He was sick and tired of being told to deal with things and Scratch just wanted to let everything go. He wanted to do the repressing thing.

But there was this little, nagging voice in his head that sounded much to much like Jan for his liking that prevented him from just burying it down. He knew, somewhere in his head that he would have to think about it eventually, and sooner was probably better than later. He would just have to make sure that he didn't lose himself in the memory of Corey.

That's all that Corey was now-a memory. He was in jail now, and could never touch Scratch again. In that way, Scratch felt more free and fearless than he had in years. But he still felt a twinge of...something when he thought of his father. The sooner he could get over Corey, the better.

He closed his eyes and with some trepidation, began to let his mind wander back in time. At first, he saw nothing. Scratch knew in his head what the sequence of events was, but he couldn't see them hi his mind's eye. That was the whole point; he needed to wade through this in his head to be rid of it for good. He just knew that there was something he needed to see that he hadn't yesterday.

Biting his lower lip, he tried again, focusing all of his energy into his task. He forced himself to reconstruct the scene when Corey had first arrived. First, he had to picture Lena's room, her compulsively tidy sleeping space. He saw himself sitting on the bed and Lena beside him. And then, swallowing his nausea, he added Corey.

The images started slowly and deliberately, but once the floodgates were opened, threre was no turning back.

The images were racing through his mind so fast it was hard to concentrate on what he was trying to find. This one sequence began to play over and over again from his position on the bed. His senses were becoming more heightened, and he could catch useless little details, but he never saw anything new in this scene.

It played over and over again, like a broken record. Scratch, sitting on the bed with Lena. The door opening to reveal Scratch's father, grinning like a maniac. Lena flying towards Corey in an attempt to protect her friend, and then away from him as he tossed her across the room like a broken doll. He turned to Scratch-and then it started all over again, each time faster and faster.

Scratch was beginning to get nauseous. The room, Corey and Lena were becoming this horrible blur. He was fed up with this. He was going to stop.

Scratch closed his mind eyes and opened his real ones. To his horror, instead of the hospital room, he was still in Lena's room. Nothing had changed. He tried again. He realized with a sinking heart that he was trapped. He was ensnared in his own mind.

He began to panic. Wasn't this what happened to people in comas? Would he be stuck here forever, seeing the same twisted things over and over again until he died? This was the worst mistake he had ever made.

Suddenly, without warning, everything stopped. He was still in Lena's room, but everything was frozen. Lena was still sitting on the bed, her mouth open in a mid-gasp. In the open door way was Corey, a perverted smile on his face, but he was like a statue, not even breathing.

Scratch looked up at the clock on the wall. Time too, apparently, had stopped.

Scratch felt a strange feeling come over him as he sat there. It was like a mental mist. He was trying so hard to think, but everything kept fogging over. He was trying to remember things, simple little things like where he was and who these people were, but every time he thought he was grasping it, it slipped away from again. In a matter of minutes, he was unsure of his own name.

He looked around the room, trying to find clues as to why he was there. His life, his likes and dislikes, the very things that defined him as a person were as blank as an unmarked page.

Then something caught his eye that he had been completely unaware of until that moment. Behind the petrified Corey was a darkness that looked too substantial to be his shadow. It was a body.

There was a limp form lying on the ground, a sinister pool of red surrounding it's head like a devil's halo. Scratch peered at it, wonderingly.

It was a girl, that much was obvious despite her deathly pale, almost unnatural features. Her black rimmed eyes were closed and her teeth were clenching down on her lower lip, the disfiguring black lipstick smearing across her face. Her skin tones were uneven, as if she had used the wrong color foundation and her mascara had run down her cheeks in liquid streams. Her black hair was messy and tangled with honey golden roots showing closer to her head. She was enchanting.

Scratch was smitten. She was beautiful, in an imperfect way. All that mattered right then was this girl, this broken doll that lay on the floor. He knew that she was important- a major part of his own identity. If he could only remember who she was, he might be able to remember himself.

He looked at her again, even more attentively, willing her to show her secrets to him. Her name had something to do with eyes. It sounded something like Tommy or Tony.

Suddenly he knew. Her name was Hitomi.

He reached his hand out towards her, whispering her name. The very moment that he uttered the last syllable, her eyes snapped open, and everything started all over again. Only it was going to be different this time. Scratch could feel it in his yet to be broken bones.

He was sitting on the bed, Lena beside him. She was giggling and saying something to him, voice was muffled and sounded very far away. He thought she was saying something about apologizing to females, but he couldn't be sure. He opened his mouth to ask if she would repeat what she had said, but what came out was totally different.

"I swear," he said, his own voice sounding very distant and strained, " that I don't know how it happened. Watch out, it may be contagious." Lena started giggling again, but Scratch stopped paying attention. He realized that the reason he couldn't hear her properly was because he could hear everything that was going on *outside* in the hall with perfect clarity.

Scratch's mind was reeling. How was this possible? There were four voices that he could hear. Bella, Hitomi, Lily and Corey. Chatter, giggles, yelling and a bellow. Footsteps- someone was running...no! It was two people, running towards Lena's room.. Now they were just outside the door. The door handle was beginning to turn with a click. Scratch's heart leapt into his throat. Why hadn't Lena noticed the door? All the pain and degradation all over again. Scratch had been able to look nonchalant in the face of Corey's abuse the first time, but he knew he would crack if forced to live through it again. Why was Lena chattering on like this?!

But the door didn't open. Instead there was a shrill scream; a feminine one. It was Hitomi, Scratch realized with a jolt, out there with Corey. Scratch tried to move to get up. If Corey laid one finger on her...

His thought never finished. A terrible thud and a howl of pain distracted him. Before he had time to react, the door had banged open, but Scratch didn't care. He barely even noticed Corey leering at him. All he could see was Hitomi's lifeless body on the floor, her head twisted at a horrible angle from her body. There were tears, but her body was still.

Scratch felt a rage build up inside of him like he had never felt. He felt his blood boil as he looked at her, broken on the floor.

His attention was snapped back to the present as Lena was flung against the wall with a resounding crack. Without initiating it, his body began to move, almost as if by it's own volition. Scratch's mind barely even registered as he began to tear at Corey's face.

The face was gone, replaced by blackness. Scratch knew, logically, that he should be in a tremendous amount of pain, but he wasn't. He barely even winced as he heard, rather than felt his rib break. He remembered that this was when he had lost consciousness the first time. Everything was black and cold, yet he was aware of his surroundings. He could still hear things.

There was a primal scream of rage and the sound of a scuffle. Corey, swearing and yelling furiously. A shot, a howl of pain. Then it was silence. An unearthly deadly silence.

The panic that had gripped Scratch was beginning to wear off. He could now feel his *very* sore rib, and the rest of his body wasn't in such great shape either. Any minute now, the ambulance should arrive and cart them away to the hospital, where Scratch *should* have been, but wasn't.

Maybe, if he could feel, he could also move his body. Testing the theory, he opened his eyes. He gasped at what he saw and bolted upward, only to twist his rib even more. He was back in the room. It hadn't been real? Scratch was so confused. One moment he was in the hospital, the next he saw Corey. Which was real?

Looking around the room, Scratch came to the conclusion that he could feel- boy, could he feel-and everything, time, sounds, *everything* seemed to be functioning normally. *This* was reality. He sighed in relief. The nightmare was over.

Looking up at the ceiling, Scratch mulled over what he had just seen. He had proof, in only in his head, that Hitomi cared. She had tried to stop that beast Corey. She had tried. even after the fight they had been in. He smiled to himself. Now all he needed to do was get out of this room without a nurse seeing him. Then he could find Hitomi.

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And you've got everything you need

Ready to open up and bleed

Reading for the magazines, reading all the books

Buy the pretty diamonds and have the dirty looks

If you want a fire baby, that's what you will,

Don't say I didn't warn

You wanna fall in love Crashing high

-The 69 Eyes

Excitedly, Scratch grasped the door handle and twisted it in towards him rather sharply, pulling in a rather startled looking nurse from outside of the room. She had also had her hand on the door, as she had been coming in to check on the patient.

Katherine, the nurse, hated patients more than anything else. It was not because she was a horrible person, but she just hated being a nurse. Everyday she prayed that something would happen to make her never have to work in this hospital ever again. And everyday, she got up and put on this annoying blue scrub shirt and tried her best to put an insincere smile on her face so her boss wouldn't yell at her again.

Why didn't she just quit? No one else understood that she couldn't quit, no matter how much she wanted to. She was too poor. She had always been poor. Her father had never worked for long, his temper getting the better of him in the work place, resulting in him getting fired as often as mice give birth. Her mother had a couple of low paying jobs, but she had had two children to look after. There had never been much money for clothes, let alone an education. The only thing that her family could afford for her, the oldest child, was a nursing program.

Now Katherine was a mother, with two little children of her own. And she was more broke than ever. She lived in a cruddy little apartment in a part of town where she didn't even feel safe, and she could barely afford the daycare she had to send her children to everyday. And as for their father, well, god knew where he was. He had run off, just a year ago, right after the birth of their second child.

She narrowed her eyes at Scratch, who was standing, looking slightly at a loss. Instantly, she hated him. He thought he was messed in the head, huh? He was just a stupid little rich boy who was too immature to go to a regular school. He wanted something that would cause a stir, something dramatic. So he had probably kicked up a fuss and gotten Daddy Richest to send him to that blasted waste of money, Albrecht Durer.

She began to walk towards Scratch menacingly. Instantly interpreting the sudden appearance of brown in her aura as hostility, he straightened up and glared at her, his gaze equally icy.

"What are you doing out of bed?" she snapped. Spoiled rich brat, she thought to herself.

Scratch grinned at her, his face perfectly capturing that of a madman. "I'll go back to bed if you go with me," he said saucily.

Katherine was boiling over with rage. That little rich shit thought that he was better and smarter than her! She scowled and said, "I was told that you have a quick tongue and-

"And you wanted to have a first hand go with it?" he cut in, his eyes gleaming with triumph at the nurse's red face, with either anger or embarrassment. Both were just as good.

"And that I would have to be severe with you," she continued, making it up as she went along. "You, young man, have at least two fractured bones in your body. Just what do you think you are doing out of bed without permission?"

Scratch knew that this was a rhetorical question. Instead of answering it, he grinned and said, "I didn't know you were the dominant type." he looked at her name tag, "Katherine. That's perfect, because wouldn't you know it, I just love to dominated." The look on her face was priceless. He just smirked, but he left like outright gloating. She was biting her lower lip so hard it was almost bleeding, and her beady little eyes perfectly displayed the hatred she felt for him.

She stood looking at him for a moment or two, trying to resist the very strong urge to hit him. Finally she motioned for him to come towards her. He didn't move.

"Come on then," she said to him, motioning again. He remained as stiff as a statue. He didn't trust her.

Exasperated, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Look here, young man," she growled-Scratch didn't know women *could* growl-"You are coming with me. Now that you're up and about, the doctors have to take a look at you.

"What a treat for them," he sneered, but now knowing the intentions, he cooperated. Scratch figured that if he played along for now, it might pay off later. He had no clue how it could though.

Katherine led him down the hall and into a small, rather bare room. She opened a small cupboard and produced a very thin, light blue hospital gown. She held it out to him but Scratch didn't take it. He stared at her defiantly for several moments, but her obvious hatred towards him made him falter. He finally backed down and took the gown, albeit reluctantly.

Seeing that she had won this small battle, Katherine allowed herself a small smirk of triumph before leaving the room.

Scratch pulled off the hideous top and pants, only to realize, with more than a little chagrin at his own obliviousness, that the hospital had robbed him of his boxers. It made Scratch's skin crawl to think about how many other people had put their diseased, *naked* bodies into these very same pajamas that he had been wearing up until a moment ago. He was glad to be rid of them. They were such ugly things and didn't suit my complexion at all, the thought to himself as he pulled on the other gown and reached behind him to tie the back of the gown together.

Suddenly his eyes widened in horror. How he longed to be allowed to wear those hideous yellow and pink flowery, dirty pajamas now! *Anything was better that what the demon of a nurse had given him to wear: she had presented him with an open backed gown. *Completely* open. No strings to tie, no buttons or Velcro, just fabric hanging wide open. Scratch felt and intense hate form inside of him. The bitch wanted to humiliate him? Fine. This was war.

The majority of people would not have understood Scratch's fear of open backed gowns. Sure, if you were "sub-normal" it might be embarrassing, or if you were deformed in any way, it would seem like a trial, but Scratch was neither of these. In fact, Scratch was quite proud of his looks, even if his body was, well, a little cut up. He was by no means shy about his figure.

Instead, it was because he was in a hospital. They would be able to tell that he cut himself the minute they got a look at his thighs. They as in the doctors. Actually, it would probably be obvious to anyone *but* doctors that he cut himself from any part of his body, save his face. But doctors were extremely good at buying people's excuses, however lame, for the markings on their bodies. But once you got past the arms and lower legs, and closer to the stomach and groin, the more difficult it was to make legitimate excuses. Even doctors didn't buy them anymore, and there was no chance they would with Scratch. Instead of mere lines, he had words or pictures on his torso and thighs. No accident could ever do that.

Damn, damn, damn! He thought to himself. The general population of North America could not possibly perceive why the thought of hospital doctors knowing that he cut was one of the worst things that Scratch could imagine. Especially since he *lived* in a hospital and had for several years.

But any experienced self injurer knows that hospitals view cutting as a pathetic suicide attempt-a coward's job of trying to off oneself. And whereas suicidals are given support and comfort, SI's were treated like shit. Scratch wasn't the only one who had been to a hospital where they stitched you up without any anesthetic, or even stapled the skin together, just because you made the cut yourself.

Scratch still harbored anger and resentment towards many a hospital for causing him unnecessary pain. He could practically feel the needle and thread in his skin as he stood there, glaring straight ahead of him.

A plan began to form in his mind. He could not let those doctors see his body. Or that killjoy of a nurse, Katherine. God forbid he let *them* mend his broken rib after seeing these marks! No. When that little pill of cyanide disguised as a human walked through that door, Scratch would make a dash for it.

Almost as soon as he had settled on a plan of action, the door handle began to turn. He grabbed the pajama bottoms off the shelf and made his move. Instead of waiting for her to open the door, he caught her by surprise. He launched himself at the door, which flew open, sending Katherine to the ground.

Katherine screamed in rage as he began to bolt down the hall, the backs of his gown flapping comically in the breeze. Several doctors tried to restrain him, but Scratch clawed his way through them. He paused only once to slip on the pajama bottoms before taking off again down the hall, his bare feet pounding on the floor. All of his thoughts were on getting away as he looked behind him to check that there was no one about to restrain him. He turned around just before crashing into a person in front of him, sending them both toppling to the ground. He hadn't even had time to register that someone was there before he was face down on top of someone.

Scratch opened his eyes to find a pair of wide green rather bewildered irises staring back at him only a few inches away from his own. Scratch had run right into.Hitomi.

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There's no need to argue anymore

I gave all I could but you left me so sore

And the thing that makes me mad is the one thing that I had

Will I forget in time?

You said I was on your mind

There's no need to argue anymore.

-the Cranberries

He couldn't believe his eyes. He blinked a few times as if to clear his head, but she was still lying there beneath him. Hitomi.

He pushed himself off of her and stood up. She was looking at his offered hand warily for a moment before accepting it. He pulled Hitomi to her feet and he felt a shiver of excitement run through him at being so close to her again.

Her hair was still black, much to his chagrin. It was wet-probably just been washed-and pulled back into a careless, almost lopsided ponytail. But at least the makeup was gone. Her clear, pale skin was no longer marred by the jarring black makeup. The bruises on her face-which were only now becoming apparent to Scratch-did little to compliment her features either. But those would fade in a few days.

Other than those tender looking bruises and a bandage wrapped around her head, she appeared to be without injury. Unless you counted having been forced to wear pajamas that looked disgustingly similar to his own.

Hitomi opened her mouth as if to say something, but the words never made it past her lips. Instead, the infuriated cries of Katherine and a few other doctors who were barreling their way towards them was what filled the room.

Scratch snapped back to his senses. He grabbed Hitomi's hand and dragged her down another hall. His eyes rapidly scanned the corridor for a suitable hiding place. An open janitorial closet seemed as good as anything, so he leapt in amongst the buckets and bottles of cleaning products, pulling Hitomi in after him. He shut the door quickly and twisted the knob at an angle. A satisfying click was heard as the lock slid into place.

There was a great clamor on the other side of the door as Katherine banged her fist against the strong metal, screaming for them to come out immediately.

"Get out here, you pathetic excuse for a sack of shit!" she shrieked. Hitomi began to giggle madly, and Scratch, catching her eye, found it impossible to keep from chuckling at the enraged woman less than a foot away from them.

It was only when Katherine's voice faded and she began to stomp down the hall that their laughter subsided. Katherine had been comic relief, if nothing else, and nothing cleared the air better than humor.

Upon closer inspection, the little closet was not as cramped as it seemed. With a little tidying up, it could have been quite roomy.

Hitomi took one of the buckets and tipped it upside down. She proceeded to, with an extreme lack of grace, plonk herself down on the plastic stool she had just created. Scratch didn't want to just stand around for god knows how long, so he grabbed the metal one beside him and followed suit.

While Scratch did this, Hitomi appraised the little closet's insides. It was about two and a half square meters and was filled so many bottles and gloves and sponges you could lose a person in them. Not only that, but they were so covered in dust that it looked like they had never been used for cleaning. There was that little dangling light bulb above them that flickered every few seconds. It cast a yellowish orange glow on the cramped room, making it seem only marginally warmer than it actually was.

Hitomi knew in her head that this was her chance to make up with Scratch. Who cared about petty little fights started by other people? Obviously he didn't anymore either. He seemed too cheerful to still be holding a grudge.

She ought to say something. Anything at all. Something about how she missed him. How scared she had been, how much she cared. But what if he *was* still angry with her? Or even worse, what if he knew that it was her fault that Corey found Scratch so fast, when he hadn't had any warning or anything to prepare him?

A wave of guilt passed through her as she thought of it. She looked up at Scratch, who, to her surprise was looking at her intently. They stared at each other for several moments.

Scratch broke his gaze first. He was uncomfortable with the situation. Hitomi was just sitting there, looking at him, expecting him to speak, to make the first move.

He wanted to, but he didn't know what to say to her to make Hitomi forgive him for his atrocious behavior.

There was an awkward moment of silence, neither parties willing to make the first move. Finally Scratch, or rather, Scratch's *nerves* had enough and couldn't stand it a moment longer.

What he wanted to do was apologize. He wanted to say that he was sorry that he had ever fought with her and would she please forgive him? That wasn't what came out though.

Almost against his will, he heard himself say with utter clarity, and even a little bit of resentment, "Why did you help me fight Corey? I didn't need your help."

Oh gawd. He really fucked up this time. He sighed in exasperation. He wanted to say something. Something with flowery words that would make her forget that he had ever said that. But the words were already out there and by the look on Hitomi's face, she wasn't going to let them slide, either.

Hitomi felt herself boil over with rage. How dare he ask such a question? She had risked her life trying to save him, and all he could think about was that his manly pride had been damaged by the thought of a woman fighting to protect him. What a selfish, petty, arrogant bastard!

She was prepared to say all this and more, in angry, hushed tones, but something in his face stopped her. His eyes held a pleading look. He was asking her to understand, to see past his words. He was asking her to understand the double meaning behind the question.

He was asking her for an affirmation that if he opened himself up to Hitomi, he wouldn't be pushed away.

Hitomi felt all of the rage suddenly deflate. It left only an understanding of his needs, and it felt so good to finally understand something about the enigma known as Scratch.

A small smile appeared on Hitomi's face. "Why do *you* think I helped you?" she asked him. "I don't know, snapped Scratch. "If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you then, would I?"

Despite his harsh tone, it was almost cute how little he understood himself, let alone what she was trying to say to him. Hitomi decided to take a chance and take the direct route. She would be as blatant as possible.

She leant forward and took Scratch's hands in hers. His pale skin was cold, and she felt him shiver, either with cold or excitement. She smiled.

"Read my lips, Scratch. I. Did. It. Because. I. Care. I care about you Scratch." There was a pause as he processed this information. She hadn't said that she loved him, and that hurt. Every second that he was with her he felt himself falling harder and faster, and Scratch was very aware of the fact that he might already love her. But on the other hand, because she didn't love him, she portrayed how she felt without lying. Scratch would rather wait to hear her say the words when she was ready and not have to question the truth behind them.

With a glint in his eye and smirk on his face he said, "I'd rather kiss them."

He left her no time to refuse as he closed the distance between them, crushing his lips against hers. Hitomi had never been kissed like that before. He kissed her with unger, tenderness, and above all, passion.

Hitomi felt she might drown in this kiss. A soft moan escaped her lips as her hand found the light switch on the wall, and flicked her fingers, plunging them into darkness.

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