Ch. 2
Disclaimer: /There's a pounding in my brain/That would drive me quite insane/If I wasn't mad already/If I'm lucky it will kill me/
Yi had another episode today.
I came back from spending the afternoon with Zhen Ji, and when I walked into the room, he was sitting at his desk with the windows closed and none of the lamps lit. His back was to me, but I could see him shaking. "Where have you been?" He demanded. I could immediately tell what was wrong by the sound of his voice—it was another breakdown. He has them periodically, usually every six weeks or so, though sometimes stress can trigger an unscheduled one. Before we started living together, they used to come every few days. Thank the gods for small favors…
"I was with Zhen Ji, darling. You know that. I told you where I would be going before I left this morning." I tried to keep my voice calm and soothing, but it isn't easy to keep your cool when the man you love—who loves you—is having a paranoid-schizophrenic episode. "You're lying," he rasped. "You were with someone. Someone else." He wouldn't even look at me, just kept staring straight ahead at the wall. "Yi," I whispered, "Please don't do this. You're not well. You know I love you—" He laughed bitterly, cutting me off. "Yes, you love me. That's what makes it so much worse. How can you love me and still betray me? Why whore yourself to another? Were you with them? You were, weren't you? You were letting them have you." I don't have to ask who he means by "Them". "They" are a part of his paranoid delusions; the imaginary would-be assassins who want to claim his life—and his love, apparently.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "We've been over this, my love, my only. There are no others. Please, Yi, you're ill. If you would just calm down and let me help y—" "No! Don't touch me! Filthy, lying, harlot!" I choked back tears. You would think that no one in their right mind would continue in a relationship after being called names like that. I am in my right mind, but my poor Yi is not. He would never say these things otherwise. I know this, but it still hurts unbearably to hear him say such cruel words, even if he does not mean them. I decided that I had to try and reach him, to bring him back to reality somehow.
I started moving slowly towards him. "Yi, I'm begging you. Listen to me. You're being irrational. There is no one else. I love you, love you so much. Please, you have to snap out of it." I touched his shoulder—huge mistake. He shot of his chair, which slammed against my chest, winding me and knocked me to the ground. As I struggled for air, the fog in his mind lifted, and just like that, he was back from whatever corner of his mind he'd been trapped in. "He?" Yi looked down at me, horrified, unwilling to believe what had just happened. "Oh gods…He, I'm so sorry! I didn't…I don't know why I…just thought…it all seemed so clear! I'm sorry, He, I'm so sorry! I love you, I know you would never do—" I put a finger to his lips, shushing him as he knelt beside me. Up close, his eyes were wild and bloodshot. He grimaced and raised his hands to his face.
"He, it hurts. It's all in my head, and it hurts. There are too many…too many things going on in my mind. I don't know which parts are real anymore. I'm so mixed up, and it hurts so much. I love you, He. I'm sorry. Please…Please don't leave…I can't do this without you…" We embraced, the two of us sitting on the floor. He was shaking and sobbing, and it was all I could do to keep from doing the same. "Shh. It's okay, darling. I'm not going anywhere, not now, not ever." I kissed him, and he kissed me back, and then we both started laughing. Maybe we're both sick. Perhaps his madness is contagious…but now I'm just being foolish. You can't spread a disease of the mind anymore than you can cure it.
I have an obsession with this pairing, and even more so with making this pairing bizarre and angsty. Does it show? …Nah. This is sort of a challenge fic for myself. I hate writing in first-person, and I hate writing pure angst with no humor or fluff, but I figure I'd better work on it anyway. This, I suppose, is just me flexing my literary muscles, so to speak. Unfortunately, there are no steroids to help you beef up your writing skills…
