Chapter 3: Bleed Out the Poison

Dear Yuuri,

Something has happened that's never happened to me before. The thing that's happened is that there is a person I've met here who really, really doesn't like me. First of all, very few people have ever disliked me. Modya, of course, did, but he had a reason. Yurio is condescending and sometimes acts like he can't stand me, but it's pretty clear that's all an act. This woman, here at the recovery center has disliked me and mistreated me since the moment we met. She's playing nasty tricks and she says insulting things. I have no idea why she does this. I've done everything I can to be friendly. I wonder what I'm doing wrong.

But whatever.

I met my behavioral psychologist, and I can't decide if I like him or not. It's kind of like he thinks I'm way more emotional that I am. I tried to explain that I feel things when they happen, and then I just go on with life, but he acted like he didn't like that, and then he complained that I just do what I have to so that I can avoid bad things or get what I want. He makes me sound damned manipulative! You don't think I am, do you?

I'm just glad I have my friend Vasily. He has been nice to me when Masha, the one who doesn't like me, treats me like shit. He's funny, and hey, he taught me to sing correctly, and in harmony too! In return, I'll be teaching him how to dance.

I miss you so very much. It's wonderful having Maccachin to cheer me up, but it's you that I really need to make things better. I hate thinking of how many more days it will be before I hear your sweet voice again or get to see you. I don't know how Stefan can think it's good for us to be separated. Without you, I feel like I've lost a big part of myself. I'll be so glad when this week is over and we can at least talk on the phone sometimes. I'll be dreaming about you.

Love you,

Vitya

XXXXXXXXXX

Masha's spiteful eyes look back at me as I continue to stand still with my hand extended, waiting for a response. When she doesn't answer, I try again.

"I know that routine," I tell her, "It's one of the Bolshoi Ballet Classics, and the only people who dance it that well are members of the company or dancers who are trying to make the cut to become a part of the company. Which one are you?"

She still stares at me wordlessly, her eyes glinting like chips of ice.

"You obviously love to dance, or you wouldn't have gone to such effort to get the moves so precise. I can tell by the way your body moves, by the execution, I'm not wrong. But, it's fine if you don't want to tell me. I'm willing to be your partner for this, so you can dance the whole thing. I know this routine and I have danced it with Lilia, herself."

Masha steps forward, ignoring my offered hand and moving in so her face is close to mine.

"Let me make something clear to you, ice fairy," she hisses scathingly, "There is no way that I am ever going to dance this or anything else with you!"

"That's fine," I answer sternly, "I don't care if you do or if you don't. I was just trying, as a person who also very much appreciates dancing, to give us both a chance to enjoy something we love. If you dislike me so much you can't do that, we won't. I would, however, appreciate it if you would just tell me what I ever did to you to make you treat me like something you stepped in. From the moment you first looked at me, you've treated me like garbage. We didn't even know each other, so I don't understand why you would do that. Tell me why."

She lets out a dismissive breath and turns away.

"You're smart, right? You figured out the rest of it. Maybe you can figure this out too."

She stalks out of the room, leaving me alone. A moment later, Maccachin walks into the room.

"Where are you doing here?" I ask him, "I thought you were waiting in our room."

If he wasn't, that makes me wonder how he got out.

Shit, I must have been careless and left the door to the room open. And with Masha having something against me and already going in to mess with my clock, I wonder if she messed with something else.

"Come on, Maccachin," I say, frowning, "we'd better get back.

When I get to my room, sure enough, the door is open. I walk inside, unsure what to expect, but mostly it looks the same as it did when I left. The only thing different is that my journal is on the bed, which looks a little rumpled, like someone was lying there. I walk to the bed and pick up the journal. As I do, a slip of paper falls out. I bend over and pick it up, then look at the words written on it.

Roses are red, violets are blue

Your Japanese lover is pretty, but I am the one meant for you.

It's creepy…very creepy. But it's just Masha trying to mess with my head, so I crumple up the paper and throw it in the trash. I give Maccachin a meaningful look.

"I think we'll be locking our door from now on," I sigh.

I give the room another once over and check to make sure my clock is set properly, then I lay down on my bed and look out the window, through branches of a tree that stands outside.

I really don't like it here.

I want to go home right this minute.

I don't know if it's stress or maybe just that I'm tired, but I start to feel an ache in my head and my stomach feels unsettled. I've also barely eaten in the last twenty-four hours, so it could be I'm hungry. It's getting close to lunchtime, so I turn on some music and I draw some sample costumes for Yuuri and me to consider for the next season. I think a little bit about our wedding, but there isn't much I can do while I'm basically cut off from everything and locked up here.

Okay, maybe it's not lockup, but it's very lonely.

I'm glad when it's time for lunch. I make Maccachin comfortable and carefully lock the door as I leave.

"Stay right here and watch the place. I'll be back after I eat, and we can go for a walk."

I head out of the room and walk over to Vasily's room to see if he wants to go with me. I tap on the door, but there's no answer. I start to leave, but then I hear something inside the room that sounds like groaning. I know that's not a good thing, so I tap on the door and call Vasily's name, then when I hear another groan, I try the door. The door opens and I step into his room.

"Vasily?"

He's not in the room, but his bathroom door is open.

"Ugh! You should g-go," he moans uncomfortably.

"Are you all right?" I ask, moving forward into the bathroom, where I find him dressed in his robe and sitting on the floor, leaned against the wall.

"Fuck no," he pants, pausing to lean over the toilet and throw up.

He sits back again when he's done and rubs his temples.

"It's just detox," he goes on, "It's ugly, but it's not gonna kill me."

He gives me a questioning look as I sit down beside him.

"What are you doing, Victor?"

"What am I doing? I'm looking after you. That's what I'm doing."

"You don't have to…"

"You'd do it for me," I chuckle, grabbing a washcloth and reaching up to dampen it in the sink.

I wash his pale face and give him an encouraging smile.

"Better?"

He gives a little laugh.

"Not really, but that's not your fault. Dues've gotta be paid, da? I started up on the painkillers again, I've gotta get it outta my system."

I hold him as he throws up again, then I pull him close to comfort him.

"You don't have to do this alone," I reassure him, "I'm here for you, like you've been there for me since I came here."

"You should be taking care of yourself," he complains, "I know you didn't eat this morning. Neither of us did because of Masha's bullshit. You also didn't eat much last night."

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine," I tell him as I use the washcloth to cool his face again, "I'm not leaving you alone like this."

"Man, those painkillers are so not worth it!" he pants, holding his stomach and his head at the same time.

He groans and retches over the toilet for several minutes, then makes a sound of disgust and humiliation as he sits back.

"Victor, please get out of here," he pleads, looking down at himself, "This is embarrassing. I just fucking pissed my pants!"

"Stop, will you?" I answer squeezing his hand, "I'm going to get you some fresh clothes."

"Ugh," he grunts as I get up, "nothing tight. Maybe my blue PJs."

"All right."

I leave the bathroom and go out to look in his dresser. As I'm opening it, I notice a picture on top. It's a photo of a toddler girl with red hair in a bucket seat on a swing set. Her lovely green eyes and bright smile tell me exactly who her father is.

He has a daughter?

I find the pajamas and fresh underwear, and I head back into the bathroom, where I find Vasily's turned on the shower and is resting on his knees under the falling water. He sucks in a surprised breath and covers himself as I open the shower door.

"Hey, uh…it's okay. I got this," he says anxiously.

"I don't think so. Why don't you let me help you?" I ask, picking up a washcloth and soaping it up.

"Um…" he says, looking down at himself, "Uh, Victor…I'm, uh, not…"

I give him a dismissive look.

"Stop that," I chide him, "Just because I am attracted to a man does not mean that I'm going to be attracted to every man around. You're perfectly safe with me helping you. Think of me like a brother. I'm just taking care of you. Relax."

"Huh," he huffs, his body loosening slightly, "I haven't talked to my brother in over a year. And he never gave me a bath. He'd have just done something mean and made fun of me."

"Well, then he's not a very good brother."

Vasily relaxes more as I wash the sweat and little splashes of vomit off of his face and arms, then I leave him to wash his private areas in privacy. I return with a towel and turn off the shower, then I help him to the little bench seat in his shower and I dry him off.

"Any better now?" I ask.

"W-well," he pants, holding his stomach, "I still feel really shitty, but it's better shitty now. Thanks."

"Come on, let's get you dressed."

"Oh, I can do it myself," he moans softly.

"No, you can't," I scold him gently, "Let me help you."

We get his pajamas on and I help him into bed, turning him onto his side and propping him comfortably with extra pillows.

"This really sucks," he groans.

"Just try to rest," I tell him, "I'll stay until you're sleeping."

"Victor, you're gonna miss lunch," he complains, "Please, just go and get something."

"I'm not hungry. I'm not feeling so well, myself."

"Oh man," he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face, "I hope it's not this bad for you. I just want to be able to sleep, so I don't have to feel so awful!"

"Do you want me to bring the nurse?" I ask.

"What's she gonna do?" he asks in a shaking voice, "She can't give me anything. God, if I could go back and not get hooked like this again! I was so stupid!"

"Take some slow breaths, okay?" I urge him, "Close your eyes. If you can't sleep, then talk to me about something."

I remember the picture of the little girl.

"What about the girl in the picture I saw out there?" I ask him, "Is she your daughter?"

"Y-yeah. Her name's Aurora. I ah…found out about her when her mom had her a couple of years ago. It was one of those road flings. We were on tour and I guess she was at one of our concerts. She, uh, it took her awhile to get the news to me. By then, she was about to have the baby and she didn't want her. She asked me if I did, or if she should put her up for adoption."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Pretty awful, huh? I felt bad. You know, I was high on the painkillers and didn't know what the hell I was doing, but that's not the kid's fault. And I figured, a parent who does want her is better than one who doesn't. So, I went when she was born and brought her back with me. She's got a nanny who takes care of her when I'm on tour…and…well, while I'm here. She's a sweet little thing…real smart."

"She's adorable!"

"You'll have to meet her…well, when we get outta here," he insists.

"Sure, I'd love to meet her."

My heart aches for Vasily as his eyes fill with tears.

"I don't know sometimes if keeping her was the right thing or if I was just being selfish."

"What do you mean?" I ask, brushing his tears away, "She's your daughter, isn't she? She should be with her father."

"I don't know about that," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I mean, she loves me and I'm crazy about her, but with me being on the road a lot, it's hard for a baby to live like that. I spend a lot of time with her and everything, but I'm such a screw up! Ever since I had that fall and got hooked on the painkillers, I've just…I haven't been the father she deserves."

"Nonsense," I chide him, squeezing his hand, "If you're here, sweating out detox and getting yourself together, you're doing what a good father would do."

He shakes his head sadly.

"A good father wouldn't have been messing around with so many women and not being responsible in the first place. He wouldn't have ever let the drugs into the picture. And I went through detox before. I knew it was hard, but I still figured out how to get more painkillers and I messed myself up again."

"Vasily," I say, looking into his eyes, "as long as you are breathing and you have a heartbeat, you can fix yourself and be the father your baby girl needs. Just focus on her, and tell yourself that you're doing this for her…for both of you. I know that if you decide this is what's most important to you, you can do it."

His wet eyes fill with gratitude and he hugs me tightly.

"I'm so glad we connected again," he sobs softly, "I know it's a crappy place to do that, but…you're a good friend, Victor."

"Hmm, I think if I was such a good friend, I would have kept in touch with you instead of letting us grow distant after we worked together before. But, I promise I'll stay with you this time, okay? I think, after this, it will be good if we're in touch, and we can encourage each other."

"That would be good," he agrees.

"Rest now, okay? I've got a meditation group I'm supposed to start today, and then my first group therapy. I'll come by after that."

"You'll eat first," he says, yawning, "I'm serious. You're probably going to start feeling bad too, pretty soon. You need to take care of yourself."

"I'm fine," I chuckle, tucking him in and patting his shoulder, "Get some rest. I'll be by later."

"Thanks, Victor."

I leave the room and head back to mine to collect Maccachin, who has been invited to join me for all of my group work. It's too late to have lunch, so I head for the meditation group. I probably would enjoy the mindfulness training, at least a little, but my head is aching more fiercely and I'm starting to feel weak and shaky from not eating. I don't complain, but I'm glad when it's over. I head back to check in on Vasily, and I find him in the bathroom again, lying on the floor. I call for a nurse, but she tells me she's going to be a few minutes. I wait them out with Vasily, then stay and support him as the nurse works with him. He seems to respond well to having Maccachin and me with him, so I don't leave, even when dinnertime comes. I'm not thinking about food at all, just about the fact that my friend is curled in a ball, shaking, sweating and having horrid hallucinations.

Nurse Derdova gives me a sympathetic look.

"You don't have to stay through this. I won't leave him."

"I know. It's just that…I mean, I had nightmares and vomiting, headaches and stomach upset, but I didn't have hallucinations. They look terrifying."

"He'll be all right. I'm monitoring him closely. You're looking pale," she notices, "You've been here a couple of days now, right?"

"Mmhmm."

"Then, your own detoxification is probably beginning. You need to go and eat, and you need to rest."

I leave Maccachin in Vasily's room and take her advice to go to the cafeteria. I get there just before they close. I fill my plate, but for some reason, I can't eat. When I put the food in my mouth, it tastes like sand, and it's hard to swallow. I take two bites and I start to feel nauseous. I can manage a little water, but I start to feel dizzy and throw the rest of my food away. I start back to check on Vasily, but I hear a mocking voice as I walk down the hallway.

"You missed group therapy," Masha scolds me, "Stefan isn't happy about that."

"Well," I say, holding a hand to my stomach, "I was helping take care of Vasily. I'll apologize tomorrow. Just leave me alone."

I continue down the hallway, but stagger a couple of steps later and lean against the wall.

"Staring to feel it, huh?" Masha inquires.

Oh god, if she's sounding sympathetic, then things are not good at all…

"Here, let me help you."

"No," I snap, pulling away, "The last thing I need is for you to sneak into my room, change my clock, spread shit on my walls and leave creepy notes for me!"

She looks at me strangely as she hears the part about the notes.

"What's wrong with you?" she complains.

"I'm tired of you being shitty to me, that's what's wrong!" I shout at her.

My words sound garbled and the hallway seems too bright.

"I'm going to get a nurse," Masha says.

I want to object, but the next thing I know, my legs collapse and I fall into her arms.

"Shit," I hear say as she looks down at me in shock.

I try to answer, but everything goes dark and ominously quiet.

Victor!