Summary and Disclaimer: Those outlined in the first chapter stand for this chapter.
Author's Notes: Well, one review in one day... Oh well. Maybe another chapter will bring in more readers. Enjoy. Spinner's psyche is getting more and more screwed...
Chapter Two: Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer...
Spinner stood across the hall from Jimmy's locker. Jimmy was exchanging books between classes when Rick approached him, holding his book bag tight to his chest. Rick pulled out a handgun, and Spinner tried to move, tried to scream, tried to save Jimmy. But he couldn't move. He was stuck against the wall, watching. But Rick didn't pull the trigger. Instead, he handed the gun to Jimmy. Jimmy took it, turned, and aimed at Spinner. Time slowed as Jimmy pulled the trigger. Spinner saw the bullet tear towards him, and felt it bury itself in his chest. He fell sideways. He wasn't dead yet. Through a haze of pain, he looked up to see Jay standing over him, holding the gun and grinning.
"No." Spinner whimpered. "No, it was you. You did it too." Jay's grip tightened on the trigger. "It was you..."
"It was you!" Spinner awoke. He was drenched in cold sweat and hot tears, and he was tangled in his bed sheets.
His bedroom door opened, and his mother knelt down beside the bed. She placed a hand on his forehead.
"Gavin?" Worry made her voice crack. "Gavin, what's wrong?"
He sat up and away from her hand, and took several deep breaths. Then, without second thought, he turned and wrapped his arms around his mother.
"It's okay." She whispered, her maternal instincts over riding her curiosity. She stroked the back of his head the way she did when he was little and had nightmares, and the nights he couldn't fall asleep because he had forgotten to take his Ritalin. He cried into the shoulder of his mother's nightshirt like a child. Kendra, also awoken by his scream, stood in the doorway, her face creased with unease. She had never seen Spinner this way. He rarely lost control of his emotions around their mother. He liked to play strong when she was around. Kendra was almost afraid to think of what could have happened that would cause Spinner to lose control this way.
After at least five minutes, he pulled away from his mother and stumbled past Kendra and into the bathroom.
Kendra winced as she heard him retch.
---
Spinner entered homeroom, tossed down his bag, and sat down without a word to anyone.
Craig and Marco exchanged glances. For as long as they had known Spinner, they had never seen him look this way. His eyes were bloodshot, and his usually carefully combed hair was tangled.
"You okay, Spinn?" Marco asked.
Spinner absently nodded, and then lay his head on the desk in front of him.
Marco looked at Craig again, then shrugged.
"I saw Jimmy yesterday." Craig said, continuing his pre-Spinner's entrance conversation with Marco.
"How is he?"
"He's awake. That's a little bit of an improvement. He claims he feels fine, except for the whole can't feel his legs thing."
Spinner sat up.
"The whole what?"
Craig raised an eyebrow.
"Can't feel his legs... You've seen him, haven't you?"
Spinner frowned. "Once. But he was still out."
"Oh. Yeah, they've determined paralysis. But the doctors think they might be able to fix it."
"That's good." Marco interjected.
Spinner stood hastily. "Tell Mr. S that I went home."
"Are you sick?" Craig asked. That would make sense.
"Something like that." And with that, he was gone. Marco looked under the desk.
"He forgot his bag."
"Grab it. We can bring it to him at lunch."
---
Spinner sat in his room. No one but Craig and Marco knew he was there. His mother was at work. Kendra was still at school, none the wiser.
He had been warned at least three times that taking four pills in the morning wouldn't save him the trouble of taking one every four hours. He was told that death by overdosing on methylphenidate was rare, but it was possible.
His conscience weighed heavy on him. Rick was dead. Jimmy was paralyzed; he probably wouldn't walk again. Emma and Sean were both scarred, probably for the rest of their lives. It was all his fault, really. He could have stopped it.
He took the lid off the pill bottle in his hand. He poured the entire contents into his hand. The prescription had just been refilled about two days ago. That meant there were at least twenty of the little pills in his hand.
He grabbed the glass of water he kept on his nightstand, poured the pills into his mouth, and took a swig of the water to wash the pills down with.
---
Marco knocked on the Mason's front door, Spinner's backpack slung over his right shoulder. Craig stood behind him, arms crossed.
There was no answer.
Marco looked over at Craig.
"His car's right there, he should be here."
"Maybe he's asleep."
On a whim, Marco tried the doorknob to find the door unlocked. The pair of them went into the front room. Craig remained by the door, while Marco headed towards Spinner's room.
Spinner's bedroom door was open. Marco peered in.
Spinner was sprawled on the floor. The empty prescription drug bottle and its lid were lying apart on the bed. Spinner's skin was ashen, but his face was flushed. His fingers were trembling slightly.
"Craig!" Marco screamed. "Call 9-1-1!"