Title: Broken Glass

Author: Crystal Charmer

Genre: Drama/Angst

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Moderate violence, sexual references and acts including suggestive yaoi (male/male) some torture, angst and some disturbing content

Summary: -AU-Something happened to him in the darkness. Now he is slowly slipping away. As a distant Sora dwells in a mental unit, his friends do all they can to bring him back to the light. (Yaoi: RikuxSora, also some SoraxKairi).

Disclaimer: All characters recognized in the Kingdom Hearts/Final Fantasy series are under copyright of Squaresoft/Square-Enix and Tetsuya Nomura. The characters Nurse Chikako and the misc. nurses belong to me.

-oOo-

"Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass." – Anton Chekhov

Chapter 1 – My Home

Soft fingertips grazed and grappled lazily down rough brick, experiencing the sensation as if it were something all so very new and exciting. A shiver inside his body as the action was repeated. Again and again and again. Curiosity burned brightly and he smirked under his breath, using both hands now – dragging from the top and raking down – scraping flesh.

Feels so strange...so good and rough...

Small trails of blood appeared on the walls. They were barely visible, but they burned in the boy's eyes as if they were glowing in the dark. Actions halted. Confusion took over and he tilted his head at an angle to get a better look.

Red stuff...

Pulling away from the wall, he slumped back on his rear and squinted into the creases and cracks of his palm, rubbed raw by the friction from the brick; swollen and tattered. Small speckles of crimson littered his fingertips, highlighting the torn skin.

The boy let out a soft moan, his thrilling game been cut short; shot dead with an anti-climax so frustrating he clenched the ripped palms into fists. Fingers delved into injuries. He hissed and grumbled through the pain, angry at the wall. Angry at his skin.

"Why?" he whispered into the dark, "why do you always have to do that?"

-oOo-

Bandages were to be brought to his aid the very next morning during routine check-ups. The walls were to be washed clean; to eliminate any trace of the mess from the night passed. Scrub, scrub, scrub. Away, away, away.

Wash it all away...

Nurse Chikako had volunteered to assist the poor inmate. After all, she had twelve years of experience under her belt of dealing with the patients. She knew just the right buttons to push. She could embrace as well as any mother could and speak without threat of mockery or lie. She was never in fear of them. They were like her children. Her precious, darling children.

She calmly fiddled with the keys on her belt as she made it towards his door, searching for the right one as she balanced the bandages and medication under her arm with expertise. She sighed, pulling the door open and blowing dark hair from her eyes as it squeaked on its hinges.

The curtains were drawn. Dappled light had been forbidden but yet it roared against the window, a soft, hazel glow strolling into the small room. The stains on the bricks were still visible. Small smudges of blood laced in between the brickwork and also spotted the floor. A few odd clothes were strewn around the room, under the bed and beneath the sill.

The boy sat there: unmoving, unseeing. His bed sheets were wound around his legs, ensnaring him and pinning him down. The pyjamas he wore hung from his small frame. Eyes of a teenager stared into space, as if the sound of the door opening had never reached his ears. If it were not for the occasional movement of his chest, it was possible he would have been mistaken for dead.

Nurse Chikako moved to his side and knelt there. "Good morning, Sora," she said softly, beginning to unwrap the bandages.

No response. Nothing. The boy's eyes continued to stare – stare far away into the corner of the room, as if it were stretching; becoming bigger with a lot more to notice. Blink, blink. He cocked his head to one side, his expression peaceful and distant.

"How are you feeling?" his carer asked politely, taking one look at his ruptured palms and wincing inside.

At first, she wasn't sure if he were going to answer her, and that he would continue to stare at the wall – his handiwork – until it was to be cleansed from the blood. A small murmur stumbled past his pale lips, never removing his sight from the streaked, stone wall:

"I made a mess."

Nurse Chikako smiled weakly as she ripped a strip of gauze between her fingers, a twang of pain hitting her heart. It was gradually becoming swollen and sore whenever she spoke to patients who were so young – so young ­­– that it was unbearable to think that they had gotten this way. Their minds were too young; too innocent to drift down a path of insanity. And yet, she saw it all the time.

It was the same with young Sora. So small and so innocent. Only just sixteen years of age. Confined to this place because he had become lost in himself. He had so much life ahead of him – he still had so much to do. It pained her inside to think that he would never have the future he had always dreamed of.

"It isn't that bad, love," she said back, mostly in comfort. "But don't you worry. I'll clean it up for you."

The boy's gaze flickered, his teeth gnawing gently at his bottom lip as he grimaced down at the sheets, folded and curved ever so pleasantly over his legs. A small whisper of a sigh passed his lips and he clenched his hands into fists again, as if to remind himself of the pain he had felt last night.

"Sora, no," Nurse Chikako said firmly, uncurling the grazed fingers with her parenting ones. "It's all right. It was an accident. I know you didn't mean to."

"I made a mess," the boy whined.

"Yes, love, I know," his carer replied patiently, a crack of a smile forming at the corners of her mouth, in an effort to reflect some sunshine into his worn, exhausted face. "It doesn't matter anymore. It wasn't a big mess, now, was it?"

Hitched breath and the eyes glanced away again. Nurse Chikako tossed in her bed at night for despair of how empty and shattered the patients eyes always seemed to be: investigating and noticing things that others could not, and yet somewhat broken...as though they may never be fixed again. They saw the world differently than everyone else.

The same was said for young Sora's eyes. Blue windows of light to peer onto the world were now pierced and thrown away. They did not seem to be the eyes of a child, rather an old doll that had been played with too often and only came alive when others played along.

Nurse Chikako moved closer towards the bed, the strips of gauze wrapped around her fingers. She spoke to the boy with honey in her words:

"Will you give me your hand, love?"

Sora hesitated. He cast a sideways stare at the bandages which snapped back to his torn palms. He pouted a little and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"No," he hissed. Tears began to swell in his eyes.

Nurse Chikako bit her lip to force down the urge to hold him close to her breast; to show the boy just how much he was breaking her heart. Often – usually at times like these – she scolded herself for ever taking a job like this. She knew she was too sensitive around the young ones, but determination for being there for them kept her grounded here. In a way, she felt trapped herself.

"Sora...dear, please?" she whispered in a broken voice, reaching out so very gently and sliding her fingers around a skinny wrist, caressing a trembling hand with her thumb. "It will make you feel better –"

"I don't want to feel better," Sora growled, rubbing furiously at his damp cheeks with the back of his hand. His shoulders shook with a small sob and a river of fresh tears oozed from his damaged eyes. "I want to go home..."

-oOo-

The cold creak that filled the air grasped Sora's attention. He darted his eyes up curiously, his arms hugging his frail knees to his chest as he saw someone – a visitor – enter.

Sora tilted his head to one side as the visitor shut the door behind them and blocked the rest of the world from the tiny room that was Sora's home. The lingering creepiness got a little to the stranger and they shuddered inside, especially when gazing upon the broken features of Sora on the bed.

Blue irises brightened and an excitement tingled in Sora's fingertips as he recognised the visitor. Aqua reflected from silver and a quiet gasp of happiness left the boy's lips.

"Riku!" he grinned, holding out his arms for him.

Riku smiled weakly and knelt down next to his friend, dropping his bag onto the floor and accepting the hug. He felt Sora's fingers clench at his school shirt as if he were holding on for dear life and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He always did when he came here. Sora didn't seem any better than when he had visited him last.

"How are you feeling?" Riku asked him quietly, as he felt Sora's shoulders tremble against his. He was aware that his friend's chestnut hair was pressed up against his chest, staring down between his knees as if a new gloom had simply driven up and taken him.

"I feel...sad," Sora whispered, still clinging onto Riku. His voice seemed distant and almost childlike.

"Why, Sora?" replied Riku, a crushing pain sweeping through him.

It was the same pain he had felt since he had been told that Sora would have to stay here – almost a year ago, now. For weeks, months...maybe years. Although he loyally came for frequent visits, Riku always had a glimmer of fresh hope that maybe – just maybe – Sora would be a little more like his old self; smiling and laughing and always optimistically happy.

Now...he just seemed lost. Riku didn't know if Sora would ever be able to find his way back to the past again. He didn't know how much help he could be in all of this, but he was always willing to try. For Sora.

"Are you here to take me home?" Sora asked eagerly, staring into Riku's face.

I remember...always being with Riku. Riku knows where my home is. Riku can take me back. Riku is my home.

Riku wanted with all of his heart and spirit at that point to just blurt out a 'yes'. He really wanted to. He wanted to grab Sora's arm and the two of them would run away...far away from this place. They would escape. It didn't matter if they went home or not. Riku just wanted to take Sora away from here – from this abyss – and show him the real world again, outside of these gates. He wanted to so badly it was eating him up inside.

The older boy felt his fist clenching at his side from the aggravation. If he were by himself he just knew he would have punched the wall with all his might. But he didn't want to frighten Sora. The last thing he wanted was Sora thinking he was turning violent on him. No. Calm and gentle with Sora. That was how he liked it.

Otherwise...

"No, Sora," Riku finally grunted out through gritted teeth. "...I can't take you with me."

"...Why not?" The voice was melancholy, with a sense of disappointment.

Riku stared into Sora's eyes and saw tears glimmering there in the corners. A look of innocence betrayed and left alone. Every time he came to see him, Sora always asked him this. He always asked to be taken home, and each time, Riku refused. He had to refuse. No matter how much Riku desired to...he knew he couldn't take him back. Being away from here wouldn't make Sora any better. In fact, it would probably cause an even bigger problem.

But...Sora always asked to go back. Did he hate it here? Why did he want to leave so much?

I can't stand to think of him being lonely, thought Riku bitterly. There's so many people here taking care of him...but is he really okay here? I wish I could visit him a lot more...but I have school, and...

"I'm not allowed to, Sora," Riku said carefully, taking Sora's hand from around his back and holding it firmly, as if to get his point across. "You have to stay here for a little longer."

Sora's eyes screwed up and he turned away from Riku, his lips pouting as his brain seethed with these words. "You said that the last time," he croaked; barely audible.

"I know...but –" Riku began patiently, but then the words stuck in his throat as he noticed the hand he was holding was shaking into a fist. Bound firmly around the flesh and fingers were long strips of gauze, dotted and stained with blood from injuries.

Riku glanced at Sora in horror, his eyes full of questions.

"Sora – what happened?"

No response. Sora simply sat there quietly, hearing Riku's concerns in his ears but choosing not to acknowledge them. A wanting was stirring inside of him – a wanting that needed Riku to feel guilty for not pulling him to safety when he had had the chance to, all of those visits ago. He wanted Riku to feel the blame.

Why won't you save me? Can't you see I need to be free? I want to run away with you...

"Sora," Riku insisted firmly, taking him by the shoulders and turning him around so that he was gazing directly into his blank face. "What happened? Did you hurt yourself...? Why are you –?"

"I made a mess," Sora whispered, pointing away towards the clean, scrubbed wall again in a quivering voice, his baggy clothes making him appear skinnier than he actually was. There were no longer signs of any matter, blood or stains of any kind. They had all been washed away...washed away and forgotten about.

But Riku couldn't forget about this. He frowned in confusion at the blank brick wall, searching for something that could possibly be there to back Sora's confession. But there was nothing. Nothing but emptiness.

Is he hurting himself on purpose? Riku wondered, feeling ill again. What did he do? Why won't he tell me?

"A mess?" he questioned, reaching for Sora's hands again and squeezing them gently, feeling them quake beneath his touch. He didn't want to sound as afraid as he did, but what if this happened again? What if Sora really hurt himself? "Sora...what do you mean? I don't –"

"I wanted to go home," the boy whined, leaning back against the bed and burying the side of his face into the pillow with a soft flump. "I wanted to escape...get through the wall...but –"

"–Get through the wall?" repeated the silver-haired teen, urging gently for Sora to press on. He placed one of his own stronger hands on Sora's shoulder for the support, now carefully choosing to sit beside him on the mattress.

The young boy nodded without protestation. His vision never watched Riku, but continued to bore through the brick, as if the wall itself were as it was the previous night; smears of crimson liquid and ripped flesh. Abrasions and stinging...

Sora flinched involuntarily, as if remembering the sharp pain. "But it didn't work," he said sadly, drawing himself in and tracing small patterns into the sheets with a finger. "The red stuff came out again...I made a mess. The wall didn't..."

Why does it always have to do that? Why?

"Sora..." And now Riku's voice was tranquil again, and not as frantic. He shifted on the covers so that his body was closer to his friend's and he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He was pleased to find that Sora accepted this touch and snuggled into the safety of Riku's hold.

"I'm so glad you came," Sora whispered, closing his eyes.

Riku couldn't help but smile, ruffling Sora's hair playfully – just like he always used to do back on the islands – and sat there with his friend for what seemed like forever, staring around at the confinement that Sora had to put up with here. It wasn't so bad. He had a window and heating, and a soft bed. It wasn't exactly a prison.

But I guess it's prison for him, thought Riku to himself. Sora never could stand to be in one place for too long...I wonder if that's why he wants to leave all the time.

"I wanted to come," Riku murmured. "I haven't seen you for three days."

"...I missed you."

Riku hesitated at that for a moment. A gentle, stirring wave crept up into his chest and hovered there, causing him to chew on the inside of his mouth, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. But why? Sora obviously missed him. After all, he was his friend – someone he could talk to about anything. He was bound to be yearning Riku's company.

Riku shifted on the bed and tried to change the subject. "Are the people here treating you good?"

"...Did you miss me?" There was a hopeful glimmer in Sora's eyes. He gripped the sleeve of Riku's white school shirt, gazing up at him; almost pleading.

"Yeah, I did," Riku answered, with a weak smile.

Sora beamed brightly and hugged his arms around Riku's waist, resting his head against his friend's shoulder and closing his eyes. He always felt safe with Riku. Always. He wasn't sure why. All he could remember about him was that the two of them were friends – best friends – and had been since forever. And...that was it.

However, something else stirred deep within Sora's heart whenever he watched Riku. Whenever Riku came to visit him...he knew. He just knew nothing bad would happen to him. He could never explain it, but somewhere deep inside told him that Riku would always protect him.

Why did he believe that?

"Has Kairi been to see you?" Riku spoke, out of the blue, staring down at the mass of spikes below his eyes.

Sora hesitated. He released his grip on Riku's body and sat there comfortably with crossed legs, deep in thought. He absently ran his fingertips over the bandages on his hands as he pictured Kairi in his mind: that smiling girl that often visited his room, with that sweet light voice and sparkling violet eyes.

...Kairi...?

"...I'll come to see you on Thursday, okay, Sora...? That's four days from now. Don't forget...please...?"

Sora brought his fingers to his eyes and began to count the days on them. A chill raced down Riku's spine at how childlike his actions looked.

"Four days..." the boy whispered. "...She's coming tomorrow."

I didn't forget, Kairi...I didn't forget.

Riku nodded, but remained silent. In fact, he didn't say anything for some time. Inside, he knew that he always felt a little ill whenever Kairi came to see Sora. Not because he didn't want her to see him or speak to him. After all, she was his friend too. It was just...

...he wondered what Kairi would say to Sora on her visits. What if what she was saying was making him worse? Or upset? Kairi didn't understand what it was like to be helpless and trapped in a dark, empty place inside yourself. Kairi didn't understand what it felt like to fight your own darkness.

Riku did.

"I'll come and see you tomorrow, too," Riku said quickly, in a firm voice.

Sora's eyes lit up. "You will?"

"After school, I'll come. I promise."

Promise...The word rang through Sora's memories as if indicating something. This word meant something important...something that could never be broken or taken away. It meant that Riku would most certainly come, despite what else was happening. He would be there. He would be there...

"Promise..." Sora murmured, savouring the word on his lips.

Everything felt perfect. His heart was soaring with happiness. He had just been promised something – something certain. He could hold onto that, and never let it go. Despite what Riku had said earlier, maybe...just maybe, he would be able to rescue Sora tomorrow, and take him home. He knew that Riku couldn't promise that, but what if it was possible?

And then something happened that dragged his ecstasy down and shattered it on the floor. Riku reluctantly got up from the bed and gathered his schoolbag from the floor, turning back and staring apologetically into Sora's confused face:

"I have to go home now, Sora..."

Go...home? Sora felt angry tears coursing through his veins and rising up into his eyes, burning there with a forgotten unfairness. Home? How can you, Riku? How can you leave me here and go home? I want to go too...

"Don't leave me here!" Sora suddenly wailed, stumbling off the bed clumsily and grasping onto Riku's shirt with trembling hands, gazing desperately into his face. The hot, salty tears were squeezed from the corners of his blue eyes, as if they were juice from a lemon. They stung. "Take me with you, Riku – please!"

Riku sighed and took Sora's bandaged hands in his, speaking directly into his eyes with sincerity in his words. "Sora...I can't. I told you I couldn't –"

"I don't want to stay here anymore!" the younger boy sobbed, his shoulders trembling. "Please, Riku...! Take me away from here...!"

"Sora..."

"I want to go home too..."

Riku almost felt his heart break. It pained him so much to see Sora like this: someone who felt trapped and just wanted to be free. He wondered why Sora felt so much about this place like that. Surely, it couldn't be that terrible here, could it? He had seen the nurses...they were so kind and gentle with the patients...

Riku practically leapt out of his skin when Sora suddenly fell to his knees, releasing a bloodcurdling scream that vibrated from the walls and struck back at both boys in the small room. Riku gazed down at Sora in horror, for now Sora had grasped the sides of his head in both hands, crying out in pain as tears fell to the floor between his bare knees.

"No...no!" he moaned, a new terror seizing his eyes.

Riku noticed it, and dropped his bag to the floor, kneeling in front of Sora and frantically taking his friend's wrists into his hands and prying them away from Sora's face.

"Sora...! Sora – what is it?!" he cried, feeling frightened now. He felt Sora struggling beneath his touch and he tried to stare into the brunette's eyes again, to search for that spark – that spark of darkness – that Riku recognised so much. This was why he knew: he was the only one who could help him. He understood everything.

Sora could only scream and clench his teeth against the pain...the pain from the darkness and the words taunting him...practically stabbing him in the heart again and again and again. Blood from his mind sprayed in all directions, making it impossible to see where he was going.

...He'll never take you back with him...it's all a lie...

"No...nooo..." Hands flailed in front of him, reaching...searching for something...anything.

...He despises you...he visits you because he feels sorry for you...

He was falling...reaching...Riku... He felt his fingers latch around something cold and hard and he pulled away, wanting something warm and comforting... Riku – where are you...? Don't leave me here...

...He wants you to die in here...no one cares about you...he wants to go home without you...

"RIKU!"

Riku got to his feet, rushing out of the door and standing in the bleach-white corridors. He didn't want to leave Sora all alone like that, screaming and thrashing at nothing...but his feet wouldn't stay still and he yelled as loud as he could as he ran down the hallway, panic in his voice.

"Someone...! Come quick – Sora needs help!"

The sounds of clattering footsteps on cold tile rushed towards him, allowing him to lead the way back into the room containing the hysterical boy. Riku dashed towards Sora again, falling to his knees and managing to wrap his arms around the boy's shoulders, restraining him a little. Sora still kicked out and cried, his screams becoming raw in his throat.

"Sora, calm down!" Riku pleaded, taking the thrashing wrists in his own stronger fingers and massaging the skin there with his thumbs, as if this would help to still the madness. Still, Sora wailed and scrambled about, as if trying with all of his might to get away.

"Don't leave me here to die!"

Die...? The word echoed around in Riku's head, and a cold chill shot through him. Die...in here? How could he die in here? These people were making him better...that darkness must be affecting him more than I thought...

"I'm here, Sora," whispered Riku gently, into his ear. "I'm here...I'm not going to leave you."

All at once a team of three nurses gathered around the scene, one of them – of course – being Nurse Chikako. Riku's eyes wandered over them suspiciously as he noticed they began to assemble various items together from a small case. Riku held Sora tighter to his own body when he noticed a rather long needle being attached to a syringe filled with a clear liquid.

Riku tasted bile. "Is that necessary?" he demanded, raising his voice over Sora's choked screams.

Nurse Chikako looked away, as if she were suddenly ashamed of something. She reached over and took the syringe in her hand, testing it out with a small press into the bottom. Fluid squirted up from the tip and dripped to the floor in one perfect shot. She didn't answer Riku's question. In fact, she didn't even look at him.

Riku had never seen any treatment been given to Sora before, especially not as serious as this. He had seen Sora break down like this many times, but had always been ushered out of the room before anything had happened. Now, he wouldn't leave. He promised Sora he wouldn't. And he knew that if he did, Sora would never forgive him.

"Young man," one of the nurses said to Riku, in a strange voice, "you may like to leave whilst we treat the patient. It could –"

"No," said Riku fiercely, holding Sora to him protectively. "I'm staying with him."

The other nurse - who seemed taller and stronger than the other two – strode over and knelt down next to Riku, taking Sora's other arm and shoulder and practically forcing him back so that his head was on Riku's lap. Sora began to struggle in their clutches, crying and hyperventilating on the cold floor as he kicked and bled and screamed.

"No, don't!" snapped Riku, burning his aquarian eyes into a glare at the nurse. "You're scaring him!"

"We have to prevent him from causing further harm," said the nurse calmly, in a trembling voice. She turned her gaze away from Riku and viewed the actions of the second nurse standing near the doorway, who seized the syringe from Nurse Chikako and collapsed onto her knees just next to where Sora's shoulder was lying on the cold floor. Nurse Chikako glanced away from the sight and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders quaking as she smothered her weeps with her palms.

"He's not harming anyone!" Riku protested furiously, continuing to soothe Sora's wrists; feeling the pulse racing there as if it were ready to explode. "This is only making it worse! Can't you see there's something wrong with him?!"

"We've been ordered to perform this procedure whenever a patient becomes hysterical!" snapped the tall nurse, her dark eyes flashing in the silver-haired teen's direction. "Let us do our job!"

Riku could only growl to himself in frustration. They can't be allowed to do this, can they? Just hold them down and inject patients like they're animals? Or worse? Why don't they try talking to them? This doesn't make sense!

Riku heard Sora moan and his breath quicken in pace when the nurse with the syringe pulled back the shirt concealing his upper arm, briskly rubbing and preparing the skin for what was about to happen.

"No...nooo...stop it!" Sora howled, tears shedding into his hair as his whole body tensed up.

Riku stared in alarm as his eyes wandered over the condition of the skin visible. Bruises, scars and scratches were stamped and cursed all over the flesh; reminders of the frequency of this kind of treatment. Just the sight of the skin mingled with Sora's cries made Riku seethe with fury.

What kind of a place is this, anyway?!

"Wait –!" Riku started, but before he could finish the nurse pressed the tip of the needle to Sora's abused skin and applied pressure. Riku felt his stomach churn as the needle punctured the flesh and went deeper and deeper into the body, hitting a vein not long afterwards.

Sora's loud sob caused Riku's head to spin and he held Sora as close to his chest as possible, massaging his clenched knuckles and brushing away the chestnut hair that was falling into his eyes. He felt Sora's fingers lock and reach out for open air, into which Riku guided them to lace with his own fingers, squeezing encouragingly.

The brunette gave a violent shudder and then went very still, muscles clenching and squeezing together as he felt the sharp sting in his arm.

Riku couldn't help but notice that the needle had attacked a bruise there.

Sora was hyperventilating again. Tears were coating his pale cheeks as his whole body shook with pain and fright. A short, strangled cry followed afterwards as the nurse pressed down onto the syringe, releasing the transparent fluid into the boy's bloodstream. He thrashed a little, but it was clear his energy was running low.

"Please...stop..." he murmured sadly, the medication acting quickly, calming his rapid heartbeat. Fingers unclenched and dropped at his sides. His breathing was still irregular, and he leant back against Riku's abdomen, tears brimming in his eyes. "Riku..."

"I'm here, Sora..." Riku said in a strange voice, although the way Sora appeared to be right now, he wasn't even sure if he could hear him.

The nurse calmly removed the syringe, heaving a visible sigh of relief. She handed the utensil back towards Nurse Chikako, who seemed to eye it with distaste before taking hold of it and removing the needle, placing it into a small pot on the side of the case. Her dark eyes refused to read Riku's as she slunk out of the room without looking back.

"There," remarked the taller nurse, rising to her feet and brushing herself down, leaving the boy to lie limp in Riku's arms. "He should be just fine now he's settled."

Settled...? Riku thought, glancing over Sora's trembling form, quaking on the floor as if he had just been violated in some way. Silent tears fell from unmoving eyes, and Riku noticed now that the spark of hidden darkness had decided to slip away. Sora's clear, crystalline irises were brimming with sadness and pain. Is that what they call it? Settled?

"He's crying..." Riku hissed, his temples burning.

The smaller nurse sighed inwardly, walking over towards the two boys on the floor and gently raising Sora's throbbing arm in her small hands, taking a cotton bud and applying pressure to the bleeding spot gathering amongst the bruises.

"It's the shock," she said, matter-of-factly. "It happens all the time."

To who? Riku wondered bitterly. The patients, or just Sora?

"What...was that stuff?" Riku asked, cradling Sora in his arms as he grimaced at the nurse with eagle eyes, making sure that she didn't do any more damage to Sora's body.

The nurse raised an eyebrow and looked Riku up and down with uncertainty. "Are you a relative or guardian?" she questioned, in a voice brimming with authority.

"What does that have to do with –?"

"We're usually not supposed to inform anyone about the medication we supply to patients unless they are a relative or a guardian," stated the nurse quickly, as if she didn't like saying those words. She stood up and placed the blood-stained cotton into the rubbish bin, staring into her palms. "It's quite confidential...you see..."

"I'm his best friend," Riku argued back, although his voice was soft as he stared down into Sora's blank expression. "I visit him every day I can. I think I should know what you're giving him, too."

There was a silence. At first, Riku wasn't sure if the nurse had even paid any attention to what he had been telling her. From down the hall there was another loud crashing noise and a loud slamming of the door. Riku wondered if other patients had heard the ruckus happening in Sora's room or not. How loud had they been, anyway?

The nurse didn't reply. Turning around towards Riku again, her dark eyes brimmed with something – not tears – that simply issued a warning to the young teenager. It was a look that warned the boy not to become any more involved in the situation than he already was. Otherwise, he would wind up getting hurt. They both would.

What is it about this place that feels so unsafe? Riku wondered to himself, staring into Sora's hazy eyes and feeling his friend's chest rising and falling rhythmically, although Sora made no other movement. He seemed to be staring into nothingness, or perhaps into his own mind. Was he even with Riku anymore?

Sora...Riku felt a painful knot form in his stomach as he gazed into his young friend's broken eyes, shimmering with unspilt tears. His lips were quivering and his whole body shook like a frightened animal in Riku's grip. I had no idea it was like this here...I didn't know this is what they did...if I did, I would have stopped it. A long time ago...I would have stopped it.

"Help me get him to the bed," said the tall nurse suddenly, in a quieter voice. She moved closer towards Sora, shifting his weight from under his shoulders into her arms. Riku had almost forgotten she was there. However, as soon as the brunette's body slumped into the woman's touch, Riku held him back, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"No," he practically growled, holding Sora to his chest as he gathered the limp boy into his arms. "I'll do it."

The tall nurse made no reply. Instead, she pursed her frail lips together – as if understanding something at that moment – and disappeared out of the small room, utensils and all. The last thing she made sure to do was to inform Riku (in an almost inaudible voice) that all the "little one" needed now was a lot of rest and "quiet time".

Quiet time, Riku thought sourly, as he carried Sora over to his bed, the patient's head lifelessly falling against Riku's chest with his cheek against the shirt; lashes tickling material. In other words, she wants me to leave.

Pulling warm covers across Sora's shaking form, Riku couldn't help noticing the violent marks from treatment lashed and laced across Sora's upper arms once again, colouring them in an image of pain. Sora shuddered as his head graced the pillows, and Riku hushed him by placing a hand against his cold cheek.

All of this time...the silver-haired teen thought, with disgust. All this time I've been coming to see you...and you've been through all of this. I didn't even know.

"Do you even know what's happening?" Riku whispered to the boy, pushing away messed strands of spiked hair out of the way of his sealed eyes. "Can you even hear me anymore, Sora? Do you know that I'm here...?"

It certainly didn't seem that way at the moment. A soft howl of harsh breeze rumbled against the glass, and Riku noticed small gatherings of storm clouds hovering like a threat in the distance. He would have to leave and go home soon. He couldn't exactly stay here all night...as much as he really wanted to. He had school in the morning.

"Don't worry, Sora," said Riku after a while, in an enigmatic tone. "I'll see you again tomorrow. I promise."

A pause. Then: "This won't happen again. I won't let them hurt you anymore."

No response. Nothing but a few forgotten words spoken on the empty space of the silence, all the while being guided either further or closer away by the delicate strokes of a teenagers fingertips against icy knuckles. If this wasn't death, was it life? How could it be life when nothing around him seemed real?

Promise... The word danced in the victim's mind. I'll remember...