Chapter 4: Memories

It all seemed to be passing in a dream, the shouting voices… the red blood, the flashing lights… the red blood, people standing around her… the red blood, sinking in and out of consciousness… the red blood.

When she next awoke there was a kindly looking nurse standing next to her bed, changing the drip over. When she saw Jazz opening her eyes, she smiled down at her, a very toothy, sickening kind of smile.

"You had us worried there, we were afraid you weren't going to make it. How are you feeling?" asked the nurse in a sickly sweet forced kind of voice.

Jazz just groaned and rolled over in her bed, shut her eyes again, and swiftly drifted back into unconsciousness.

During this time she dreamed, dreams of pain, fear, anger, hate. Dreams of hope, happiness, compassion, love. Dreams of Tristan, and what nearly was. Dreams of her brother, and her old life, her life that still hunted her. And Yugi, she dreamed of Yugi, and the kiss that they had shared. Somehow it was always his face that appeared out of the cloudy fog of her drugged mind.

The next time Jazz woke up, there was no nurse staring down at her. Instead, crowded into the cramped space were Tristan, Yugi, Joey, Bakura, and Tea. Everyone had concerned expressions on their faces, and Tristan seemed to look almost guilty. Jazz couldn't understand why though.

When they saw that she was awake, everyone just stood there and smiled at her. Tea came forward, and held one of Jazz's hands in between her hands for a moment.

"We're glad you're awake, and getting better Jazz," she said with a broad grin, "we've all been so worried about you."

This was almost too much for Jazz, and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes. These guys actually cared about her, actually worried about what was going to happen to her. Last time she had woken up in hospital there had been no one there to see if she was okay, only social services, nurses, and a doctor who insisted on trying to be 'cool' but instead looking like a fat old ageing Beatles fan.

Jazz tried to blink back the tears, but she couldn't help it, and she felt them spilling out, and running down her cheeks. Tristan looked for one moment at the tears, like pearls, shining on her pale skin, before flashing a warning glance at his friends. He wanted to be alone with Jazz; there were some things they had to talk about.

"Umm….yeah, we should go….see you later, Jazz," said Joey, before quickly leaving the room. Jazz looked up, just in time to see Yugi leaving. Something flashed between them, a look of understanding, before he was gone. Jazz shook it off though, thinking that she must be imagining it, a result of the drugs still coursing through her body, and she turned to look at Tristan. She was surprised to see that he was crying.

"Jazz, I'm so sorry, I…'

"Sorry for what, you didn't do anything," Jazz felt so confused about the way he was acting, what was he sorry for, none of this was his fault.

"Well, you tried to commit suicide, didn't you? And you did that after what had happened at the house. The way I see it, I did or said something to upset you, like turning you down that night, and so you went home, and did this to yourself. So, didn't I do a lot?"

Jazz smiled sadly at Tristan, not sure how she was going to explain what she had been thinking and feeling that night. "It was not your fault Tristan. It's kinda hard to explain, but cutting is a way of controlling my life. It also gives me a moment of freedom, of release. That night, I felt I had no control over what was happening. I was angry with my self for been so weak, and I needed that release to escape from all of the feelings that were inside of me. So I cut where I usually did, at the tops of my thighs, you saw the evidence of that. It didn't help though. It was like this pressure was building up inside of me, and I needed a way to release it. It was almost like I was hypnotized, or in a trance, or something, like I wasn't in my body. I remember looking at my wrist, the blue veins, and the way the light played off the blade on my wrist, the pain I felt when I cut my wrist, but also the pleasure, and then the next thing I knew I was flying, if you can understand that. I was free, nothing was tying me down, the ghosts were gone, and I was flying. I didn't mean for it to happen, I must have cut to deep or something. So it wasn't you fault, or anybody else's. It was all my fault, my weakness that caused me to come here. Please don't blame yourself." At this point Jazz couldn't do anything to stop crying. She clung desperately to Tristan's shirt, sobbing into his shoulder. He had sat tense and unmoving throughout that little speech, but when Jazz had finished he leaned forward, and wrapped his strong arms around her. He stroked her tangled hair as he whispered into her ear, "shh, its okay, your safe here, your going to be fine," Tristan wasn't exactly sure about what he was saying, only that he felt this deep need to comfort Jazz, to stop her crying, to ease her pain.

A nurse opened the door, and poked her head around the door.

"Excuse me, but I must ask you to leave. Jazmin has been through a traumatic event, and we can't have here getting to upset. She also has an appointment with a psychiatrist. I'm sure you understand."

Tristan looked for one moment at Jazz, tears still streaming down her face, before making a decision. He wanted her to get better, then they could be happy, but until then there would always be this shadow hanging over them.

"Jazz, I have to go, I'll be back, and I'll come and visit."

Jazz looked so desperate, and clung even harder to his shirt, "No Tristan, no you can't leave me, oh, fuck, please don't leave me." Tristan gently disentangled himself from her vice like grip and stood up. He planted a kiss gently on her mouth, and left the room. He didn't want to look back, because he knew that Jazz would see the tears falling down his face, the tears he was crying for her, and he knew that she wouldn't want his pity; she would only want his comfort. Pity would destroy her, so he didn't look back.

Look back, turn around, let me see your face, and I'll know that you still love me, even though I've screwed up, just turn around Tristan, please, turn around. Jazz was desperate, she couldn't help feeling that she had screwed up. She just needed to see Tristan one more time before he left, one look, and she would know that it was all okay. He didn't look back, and Jazz fell deeper into despair. She couldn't help feeling that maybe it would have been better if she had died.

"So, how is she?" Everyone gathered round Tristan when they saw him come out of Jazz's room. They saw the tears staining his cheeks, and knew that it couldn't be good. They also knew how he felt about Jazz, and were filled with pity for him. He seemed to really like her, and the pain that she was feeling was almost killing Tristan as well.

Only Yugi was distant, standing apart from the group of friends as they comforted Tristan. He couldn't think of anything to say, as it felt wrong, Tristan and Jazz together.

Now is the time I wish you hadn't told me about all that soul mate shit Yami, I mean, what am I meant to say to Tristan? "I'm sure it will all be fine, but Jazz is my soul mate, so your relationship won't last, don't worry though." Yeah, I can see that working.

Patience Yugi, patience. Just be there for Tristan when he needs you, and don't betray any of your feelings, as you could loose his respect and trust, as well as Jazz's. Wait, and trust in her, and she will find you. She has a lot of demons in her past, and before she can go anywhere, she must first lay them to rest.

Yugi felt complete and utter despair at Yami's words. He didn't want to wait for Jazz, he wanted her, and needed her now. He had to though, he had to let Tristan and Jazz realize that their relationship just wouldn't work; he had to let them break up on their own. He couldn't help them with this. It was probably one of the most painful experiences of his life, the way in which Jazz looked at Tristan, and the way that he looked back at her.

"mmmm, Joey, it's been so long," Tea reached out a hand, and proceeded to play with Joey's long hair, braiding it and knotting it, before undoing it, and repeating the process.

And he pulled Tea into another kiss, rolling over on his bed so that he was on top, elbows supporting his weight off Tea. Tea ran her hands through Joey's hair, kissing him with more and more passion.

They broke away for a moment, giving Tea to talk for a bit, before the passion she was feeling completely consumed her.

"How are things with you and Bakura going, I mean, you don't have to tell me, but I would like to know, I mean, in some way he is as much apart of this relationship as both of us." Tea shot a glance at Joey to see how he was taking this. He sat very still, his face so motionless he was like a statue. It was hard to explain what he was feeling, he was so confused. To him his relationships with Tea and Bakura were completely different and not to be mixed. They both knew that Joey 'swung both ways' and both were happy with the arrangement. For them it didn't matter that they had to share him, they both knew that he loved them. Most people were surprised at this arrangement, but they were happy, and their friends accepted them, so for Tea, Bakura and Joey, life couldn't be better.

Joey sighed before replying, "He's fine, and things are going really well. I think sometimes that I love him. I just don't know if he feels the same way. I mean, how do I tell? And then I think of you, and I know that I love you, but for some reason I can't read Ryou like I can read you. There's something about him, something I don't know, and couldn't even begin to guess at. I know I love him, and I know I love you, and I know that I could never give either of you up, but everything's really good at the moment. So, yeah." Joey finished talking and Tea looked over at him. He had a confused little frown on his face, and Tea could only imagine how he was feeling.

"Smile, life's never as bad as you think it is," and Tea rolled towards Joey, and pressed her lips against his before he could protest.

Jazz lay in her bed, as lifeless as if she had been dead. She didn't know what to do. She had convinced herself that Tristan didn't love her, her parents didn't care for her, and that she didn't really have any friends, they just hung around because they felt sorry for her. All she had were ghosts of memories, from the times from when she was younger, from a time when she was happy.

She could remember sitting in her Moms lap, as her dad sang American Pie, and played along on his guitar. She could remember the way her mom smelt, the way her moms long auburn hair tumbled around her shoulders, the clothes she was wearing, and the way she looked when she smiled. She could remember the intense concentration on her fathers face as he played, his long fingers dancing across the strings. She could remember exactly what he was wearing, and exactly how he looked when he smiled. She could remember their bodies lying on the floor of the shop, bent and broken, oozing blood onto the floor. She could remember screaming and screaming, she could remember nice people who talked to her, and she could remember crying and crying. She could remember visiting the mountain top where she had scattered the ashes of her parents with her adoptive parents. She had stood on the very peak of the sheer drop, and threw of bouquet of flowers for her parents. She had followed this with a letter for them, her last good bye, a final farewell, a symbol of the end of her old life, and the start of her new one.

Pain can consume everything. It devours every happy memory, until only the bad things are left. The fights, the anger, the hate, the anguish, the torture. Pain twists what you know, until everything seems wrong, until only the pain is left. How are you meant to be happy, when pain is all you know? How are you meant to live your life and be free when it has tied you down, and there is only the misery only the misery of a twisted heart?

A/N: Thanks to Kilara-May, MiserysSin666 and Sutoriitoenzeru-street angel for reviewing. Btw, Sutoriitoenzeru-street angel, who's cut by, I would like to read it. So anyway, I wont be able to update for another four weeks at least cos of this choir tour, so sorry about that. Anyway Merry Christmas… and I hope you all get what you want!!! Sorry again about the tour, but it does mean I get to see loads of Europe.