(A/Ns: Updating in 16 days, with the longest chapter yet of about 7,700 words. Definitely a personal record. Anyway! Yes, this is an important chapter. Very important indeed. Everything's going well, Elliot gets disclosure on Leo's past, and then... everything just goes to shit. haha. sorry. On the plus side, the teachers are getting more screentime now xD.
Please drop a review if you can! :D
Content warnings: smoking, drugs, drug addiction, mentions of suicide, mentions of bipolar, mentions of vomiting, mentions of withdrawal, overdose, prescription drug abuse, homophobia, and some quality, well-deserved Elleo content.
Disclaimer: i do not own pandora hearts)
Chapter 12
For the past two weeks, Leo hadn't shown up to school.
The first week he took off was to be expected. Elliot knew that. He would still be recovering from the weekend. And Elliot felt guilty; incredibly so. How could he have just walked out on Leo? He'd tried so hard, and failed. And he just left? No wonder Leo hadn't shown up. He needed space, and time to recover from going to hell and back trying to detox from OxyContin.
The second week he was absent, however, stirred more questions.
Sure enough, it was also at this point that Break confronted him about what'd happened the previous weekend. Their entire conversation had been – he hoped – confidential. Even Oz hadn't shown up, and it was weird to see Break taking something seriously for once. Weird, suspicious, but also strangely comforting for some reason.
Had he gone back to drugs? Had he continued detox? Had he gone to rehab? Gone to prison? Told his mother about everything- anything yet?
Or had he died?
Elliot knew nothing, and he'd been in the worst mental state he'd ever been in. Not to mention the ugly confrontation from his sister when he returned home on the Sunday evening, who'd apparently been covering for his backside by telling their parents all sorts of bullshit about where he'd been.
Currently, it was the Friday of the second week Leo hadn't been present in school, and Elliot's number had now officially been blocked by the other.
He'd avoided Oz, as well, coincidentally by also blocking him and escaping to the library whenever he came within five metres of him.
Fortunately, he'd been able to leave his very lonely lesson of Literature without getting caught by Oz. And from the very moment he proceeded to the school gates, he resumed to dwelling on every tiny, insignificant mistake he'd made on that weekend – almost two weeks ago now.
And now, he knew that he'd acted spoilt, and self-entitled. If he'd have just stuck with it a little longer, would Leo have stayed clean? He should've persisted more, and helped him emotionally, as well. He should've pressed for more information, and learnt more about the true hell he'd been living through for God-knows how long.
If he'd just stopped questioning and acted-
"Elliot. Come."
… that was a voice he was not used to hearing.
Immediately, Elliot jolted slightly, being brusquely pulled from his tedious, repetitive train of thoughts. Turning on his heel to the source of the voice, as expected, he crossed eyes with Oswald, their deputy headteacher.
Activating his automatic polite-mode, he tried not to convey his surprise, as he retraced his steps out the gate and hesitantly approached the other. "Sir-"
"Come with me," Oswald said nonchalantly, with an indecipherable gaze. "The headteacher has already informed your parents that you will be late home."
"Ok, but…" Elliot narrowed his eyes up at the other. "Why?"
Oswald, staring blankly for a moment, turned his focus down to Elliot, and replied, "Just follow me."
Wordlessly, Elliot obliged.
It was only when they entered the block of Science classrooms that it became evident where they were going. Which was… Break's classroom?
Lingering within his classroom was a heavy, awkward silence, messages only being conveyed through silent but intricate glances. Glances between Break, and Levi – their headteacher – it seemed.
Wait.
What the hell is Levi doing here?
"Ah, Elliot," Levi grinned, leaning casually against Break's desk. Break, on the other hand, didn't seem particularly amused, an unreadable but stern expression spread across his face. "How's my favourite student doing?"
"Um… fine?" Elliot lied, slightly put off by the 'favourite student', which seemed to have been plucked out of nowhere since, well… Levi wasn't actually his teacher for anything.
Ultimately, though, the overall heaviness of the room implied they'd been discussing something rather serious, and Elliot's heart dropped at the realisation that this had to have something to do with Leo. And, considering the headteacher, the deputy head, and his most trusted teacher had all gone dead-silent, Elliot could just tell it was something bad.
"Elliot," Levi said again, pulling away from Break's desk and sauntering around to where Elliot stood. "Your teacher has just been talking to me about a rather serious matter, dare I say?"
Internally, Elliot sighed. There was absolutely no point in trying to deny knowing anything. "Yeah, I guess… i-is he in trouble?"
Levi shot him a perplexed expression. "Who, Mr Legnard, or Leo?"
Leo. That's it. Something's happened, Elliot thought, cringing at the use of Break's formal address as a teacher. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly used to that formality. And given the fact Break also screwed his face up, it was fairly obvious that he didn't like being addressed as such, either.
"Both?"
Derisively, Levi snorted. "Neither. Your teacher followed protocol. I am, however, now aware of what happened. But not because of your teacher here. Someone else told me." There was a short pause, during which he drew in a deep breath, and then continued. "Leo is also not in trouble. He will, however, be getting help."
"Oh…" Elliot murmured. "Why?"
A tense silence filled the room.
Until Break spoke up, and answered. "He's in the hospital. Overdose."
Elliot's heart sunk, the dread in the pit of his stomach exploding into a hoard of butterflies. "Well… what the hell happened?!"
"His mother found him," Oswald answered, still stood at the door. "He's alive. Stable. But unconscious."
"She asked if you'd be told," Break added, picking up one of the pens from his desk and spinning it between two fingers skilfully. Elliot couldn't decode his facial expression. He seemed uncharacteristically… perplexed.
"So it was… OxyContin?"
"No," Break said, averting his single gaze to the floor. "Heroin."
Elliot's eyes immediately doubled in size. His heart began racing at an unprecedented rate. Why the hell had Leo done heroin?
"I don't know why," Break answered before Elliot could even voice his question. "I know no more than the other two here."
"Go see him," Levi said, bringing a hand up and placing it on Elliot's shoulder. And, weirdly, it was quite comforting, really, and somehow, the smile Levi sent his way only amplified that. "You care about him a lot, so you'll regret it if you leave him."
"Yeah…" Elliot nodded briefly. "It's my fault he's-"
"It's not your fault," Oswald interjected. "Things have been difficult for a while. None of this is your fault."
Right before Elliot could question how Oswald knew that, Break cut in again. "Get the train there. If you hurry, you'll get the 15:50 away from the city."
"O-Okay," Elliot stammered. "Thank you. I'll… I'll go now."
Within a few seconds, he'd successfully turned on his heel, proceeded out the door, and closed it behind him. And from the moment the door shut, the conversation inside appeared to continue.
The ugly stirring feeling returned to his stomach, and Elliot was suddenly struck by anxiety that told him Break knew something which he hadn't told him.
By the time Elliot reached the hospital, it was almost half past four, the place being more or less deserted at this time.
Having grown up around a family of doctors and businessmen well-known in the medical field, Elliot had always assumed he would go into the same kind of thing. Due to his family name, he was almost certainly guaranteed a place at the top university in the country studying Medicine, hence his A Level choices of Chemistry, Maths and Latin despite not being particularly passionate about those subjects.
He'd spent a lot of time at hospitals, as well. Occasionally, his brothers would take him to their family's newest project. Of course, he wasn't familiar with this hospital, but that was because it wasn't private. Needless to say, most of his life had been around privately-owned facilities and institutions.
But in the end, all hospitals were the same. They were all annoyingly sterile and white. And they were always busiest at night.
The first place he went on arrival was the paediatric unit waiting room. One doctor even held a door open for him. Blind praise, he assumed, and promptly screwed his face up at it once he was out of sight. He never liked when people did that.
"Oh, Elliot?"
Visibly, he jumped at the voice, spinning on his heel to spot Leo's mother, Emma, already having stood up to greet him.
Not even the usual forced smile was on her face. No, instead, all he saw was guilt and worry in her eyes. Her face was a picture of fear, to say the least. And sure enough, at that, Elliot's stomach dropped yet again.
Did something happen, between him being told and him getting there?
"Ah, hi…" he greeted nervously, taking the seat next to her when she sat down again and getting straight to the point. "So is… Leo, you know…?"
"He's stable," she answered, not particularly convinced by her own answer. The mere thought of her son sent tears to her eyes, and momentarily, Elliot felt bad for even asking. "But I don't know what happened to him. I still don't… understand what the problem was."
Elliot didn't respond at first.
Then, mustering up all the courage he could, he turned to face her, caught her gaze, and apologised. "I'm sorry for leaving him. I should've stayed with him. And he might… not be here now, if I had done."
"R-Really, it's not your fault. But… thank you anyway," she said, forcing a smile. "I just… I can't believe he was doing heroin all this time."
"Did he tell you anything else?"
"No. These past two weeks we've just been… fighting. He needs help, and I'm trying to help him, but he doesn't want it. He won't stop. And all we do is yell at each other." Her eyes, now brimming with tears, flitted to the floor. "There's nothing I can do to help him."
"Sorry I didn't tell you…" Elliot murmured, trying to sound as sincere as possible when ultimately, he'd sided with Leo throughout this entire process. She was trying her best, and he went against her? And kept it from her?
"No, don't worry. Really." The same sad smile tugged at her lips. "I'd rather he had someone he trusts."
"I wouldn't say he trusts me all that much…" Elliot added under his breath. "He hasn't told me anything about his history with the drug."
"Oh…" she muttered. "Still, though. Heroin. I'm just… I'm kicking myself for not noticing that he'd been using heroin."
Elliot bit down on his lip tentatively. He couldn't hide everything from her. She deserved to know.
"It wasn't…" he stuttered, tripping over his words. "He wasn't taking heroin before the detox. When I found out, it was, um, something called OxyContin. That's… what he's been using most of the time, I think."
At that, she froze, eyes widening rather abruptly. A sense of lingering tension hung over them.
It was at that point Elliot realised that she knew something that he didn't, as well.
"Never mind what I said…" she declared, turning her gaze to the adjacent wall; away from Elliot. "I can… I can get that."
Two hours had passed since that rather awkward exchange had occurred between Elliot and Leo's mother, and since then, the most that had happened was that they were moved to the room where Leo was.
To no surprise, though, Leo was still asleep. Elliot had been, admittedly, a tad disappointed, although got over that pretty quickly when he remembered that Leo was recovering from a heroin overdose and recently a large dose of Naloxone. What else would he expect?
It was now coming up to 7pm, Emma having been whisked away by their psychiatrist about half an hour ago. Their psychiatrist who, strangely, seemed slightly too pleased to see Elliot there again.
Thankfully, over the past five minutes, Leo had begun to stir. Rigid limbs began to explore the possibility of movement. But he had yet to fully awaken.
He briefly considered getting his mother. In reality, she deserved to be there when he woke up. But before he could, Leo cracked an eye open. Just barely, and he probably wasn't fully awake, but it was enough for him to be instantly blinded by the sterile whiteness, as he flinched visibly.
"You're in the hospital, dumbass," Elliot said harshly, standing up with his arms folded over.
If he'd been administered Naloxone, technically speaking, he should have been thrown straight into the secondary phase of withdrawal. Because, after further in-depth research, he finally uncovered that the ominous opioid-blocker Leo had taken probably was Naloxone, or something with similar properties. However, because the hospital was still under the impression he'd been taking heroin, they'd put him on a low dose of methadone. Whether that would suffice, Elliot had yet to find out.
Leo hadn't appeared to respond to or even acknowledge him, instead blinking erratically in confusion at his surroundings. His limbs simply refused to move for him, but Elliot opted to remain silent until he fully came-to.
It wasn't until several minutes later that he was fully conscious, and only then did Elliot speak again.
"You're in the hospital," he informed him, a tad softer this time, as he took a step forward. "Do you remember anything?"
Leo, still coming to, it seemed, blinked a few more times, and then mustered up all his energy into his lightly trembling arms to haul himself up into a sitting position. He wavered, overcome by a wave of nausea, but stayed where he was nonetheless. Then, once the dizzy spell had washed over him fully, he finally answered Elliot's question. "Yes. I thought I was dead."
"You nearly were," Elliot deadpanned. "Your mother found you. You overdosed."
"So I can tell," Leo muttered, still taking in everything and seemingly suppressing a gag. "Why are you here?"
"I came to apologise, idiot."
"Well?"
"I'm sorry, okay?" Elliot tried, taking another step closer to the bed. "Look, I… it was tough on both of us. But I was selfish. I know there's not much I can do, but please," he sighed, biting back the many tears he'd shed over the past few days. "Accept my apology, at the very least."
Leo was completely silent for a moment. His gaze flitted to the ground, an awkwardness hanging over them. Until he replied, at least. "Apology accepted."
Elliot couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. It was past them. They'd resolved it, to some extent. "Thank you."
"Now that trivial shit is out the way," Leo said, abrupt as ever. "When can I go home?"
"You only want to go home so you can get your next fix," Elliot accused.
"Yeah, obviously," Leo exhaled, slumping back in the bed and laying an arm over his head.
"Why did you take heroin?" Elliot interrogated, refusing to let the silence continue.
Leo paused again. And the silence which proceeded that implied he didn't really want to give the honest answer. But, despite the reluctance, he gave an answer a few moments later. "Oxy was great at satisfying an addiction. But not at getting high," he said. "You'd left, and I was upset; sue me."
Elliot felt his mouth drop open. "And you just… turned to heroin like that?"
"Pretty much."
"Right…" Elliot stammered, unable to find the right words.
Thankfully, however, before he had to, the psychiatrist returned, Leo's mother following. They both smiled briefly at Elliot, and then turned their attention to Leo.
"It's good to see you're finally awake, Leo," he said, tucking the clipboard under his arm and closing the door behind them. "Tell me, how are you feeling?"
"Like shit," Leo replied bluntly, averting his gaze elsewhere. "What did you give me? Because whatever it is, it's not working."
"If you must know, Naloxone, and the highest dose of methadone we can give someone of your age." When Leo didn't reply, the psychiatrist promptly continued. "Is it not helping your cravings?"
"No," Leo grunted, eyes idly panning across the ceiling. And when he spoke again, his tone turned bitter. "Can't you just give me some OxyContin, and then send me home? It's not illegal, so why do you even care?"
"Leo, you need to understand that you have a problem that needs medical help-"
"Do you think I don't know that?!" Leo snapped. His patience, already teetering on the edge, had exceeded its limit. "Of course I know I have a problem! But what the hell am I supposed to do to stop it? It's already happened!"
"We can offer you all the help we can. Yours is not a particularly rare case," he explained, his words barely soothing the other, but at the very least, Leo didn't retort this time. "Your mother and I have discussed it, and currently, you have two options." He paused again, inhaling a deep breath. "Obviously, if you refuse, we can't stop you from returning home. However, please seriously consider the help you're being given.
"Option one is that you go to rehab. You're on a fairly high dose of opiates, so they'd most likely put you on methadone, and ween you off that. Option two is that you stay here; go through a medically managed withdrawal. It'll be up to you whether you're weened off, or if you stop entirely. Whatever decision you make, the nurses will try to make it as comfortable as possible for you. After that, you'll be discharged, and I expect your mother and I will make a decision regarding therapy afterwards."
Leo fell totally silent, seemingly deep in thought. Then, he tilted his head up, staring at Elliot for answers, before responding verbally. "Can you give me time to think?"
"Of course," the psychiatrist nodded, turning towards his mother. "Emma, are you stay-"
"No, she's not," Leo retorted instantly. "Privacy, please."
Wordlessly, the psychiatrist nodded, and led his mother out of the room.
The moment they were alone, Elliot jumped in with his input. "I will pay for you to go to rehab."
"I'm not going to rehab. No way."
"Why not? You need help."
"I know I need help, dammit! I'm not an idiot!" Leo snapped, burying his face in his trembling hands. "But I am not going to rehab. I-I'm not that kind of addict, I don't belong in a place like that."
Elliot froze. He turned around, took three steps back, and stared out of the window. "What… happened to you, Leo?"
"I'm not talking about this now," Leo blatantly refused. "Shit, I need a cigarette."
"Stop avoiding the topic. You need to make a decision."
"I want to go home, that's what I want to do. That's my decision, are you happy now?"
"Well… no! Of course not!" Elliot spun around, forced the other to meet his glare, and narrowed his eyes at him. "You're really going to give up? After everything?"
"I won't go back to heroin…" he muttered. "I'll buy more OxyContin, and continue with my life as it was. I'll catch up on the work I missed, continue smoking as I did, and we'll… we'll pretend nothing ever happened."
"No way in hell. You deserve better. And the sooner you quit, the easier it'll be. And… the sooner you'll get the freedom you deserve."
"Wow, which NA meeting did you get that one from?" Leo said sarcastically under his breath. "Why exactly do you care?"
"Because you're my friend, and you're really smart, and y-you could genuinely get somewhere in your life if you just tried!" Elliot yelled, retreating back a step when he realised he might have gone slightly over the top. "You know what I feel about you. I don't need to justify myself."
A tense silence befell the room, neither of them daring to utter a word. Leo, staring at the floor, was once again deep in thought. Elliot stared at Leo, trying to decipher what he was thinking but getting nowhere.
Then, after over five minutes without a single sound, Leo drew in a sharp breath, and spoke again. "I'm not going to rehab."
"But you'll stay here?" Elliot asked, meeting his gaze. And for the first time in a while, eye contact with the noirette felt… genuine.
"Mhm," Leo nodded briefly. Then, almost inaudibly, he added: "You're not going to let me leave, obviously, so I might as well try, at least."
"That's the spirit," Elliot deadpanned.
So, they were doing it again.
The detox, the constant pain, the endless throwing up, the never-ending tears: all of it. Again.
Again, and hopefully for the last time.
The heavy silence proceeded to linger right up until the psychiatrist and Leo's mother returned, letting themselves and grabbing their attention simultaneously.
"Have you made your decision?" he asked, sending that same warm smile in his direction as an attempt at comfort.
Leo snorted. "Well it wasn't really my decision."
"He's staying," Elliot declared, as he shot Leo a sidelong glare. Leo caught it, and retorted with a visible, exaggerated eye roll. There it was; the recalcitrance he knew.
"Very well," the psychiatrist said quietly, unhooking the IVs from his arm and leading the two out. "We're going to transfer you to the paediatric unit, and then put you on a strong dose of aspirin for the back pain. And from there, we'll ween you off the methadone slow-"
"I'm not cutting down. Take me off it straight away," Leo demanded. When he stood up from the bed, however, a dizzy spell assaulted him, and his words lost their conviction as he wavered against Elliot.
The psychiatrist and his mother exchanged uneasy glances, but Leo's stern glare didn't change.
"I wouldn't recommend that," he tried, as they continued walking through corridor upon corridor until they reached the paediatric unit. Guiding them into an empty room, almost identical to the previous one except it had a slightly bigger window and a shielded-by-shrubbery garden area behind it, the psychiatrist didn't speak again until he'd shut the door. "Heroin withdrawal can be dangerous if done cold turkey-"
"Do I look like I give a shit?" Leo shot back, hopping onto the bed and crossing his legs over. Stubbornly, he folded his arms over his chest, and averted his focus to the area outside. "In what way is that going to convince me? I went cold turkey from 160mg of OxyContin a day and that didn't kill me, did it?"
The other froze. "OxyContin?"
"Yeah, I mean what I said," Leo threw his arms up, and scoffed. "What, you think I was taking heroin for the last couple of years?"
"We would have assumed as much," his psychiatrist tried to justify, but it was obvious that, at that moment, he knew as little as Elliot, and Leo's mother did. "We will discuss that tomorrow. For now, all we need to know that you're detoxing from heroin. And if you don't give permission to be given methadone, then we won't administer it."
"Good," Leo said. "Are you done now? I want to sleep."
"I will give your notes to the nurses, they will administer the aspirin in a minute, and then I won't see you until tomorrow. Is that all?"
"I want to keep Elliot here," Leo muttered.
"What?" Elliot froze, but he wasn't surprised. "I mean… I guess I can. Until Monday, at least."
"Emma? Are you okay with this?"
"Oh, yes. O-Of course…" she stammered. "If he'll be happier with him, then… I shouldn't stand in the way."
"Very well," he sighed, leading Emma out of the room. "The nurses will keep constant supervision over you, and Elliot, you're free to leave at any point, if you wish. Until I see you again, good luck."
"Whatever," Leo grunted, watching intensely as he left, before slumping back in the bed. "I hate him. And I can tell you don't like him either."
"He's too polite," Elliot scoffed. "Tch, probably doesn't want me telling my father about him…"
Leo cocked an eyebrow. "Your parents?"
"Mhm. They're involved in the management of this hospital. It's not private, so they don't spend much time here, but… they still technically own part of it."
"Interesting…" A deviant smirk tugged at the noirette's lips, and Elliot facepalmed when he brought a single cigarette out from his pocket. "If you know so much about this place, take me somewhere I can smoke."
"Where the hell did you even get that?" Elliot interrogated nonchalantly. A stupid question, really. He was well aware at this point that nothing ever got between Leo and cigarettes.
"I bummed it from some guy in the bathroom earlier," Leo shrugged.
"Tch, fine," Elliot rolled his eyes, and reluctantly obliged. Reluctantly, he told himself. Well, in a way, it was; if it wasn't for his stupid feelings, he would not be doing this. "I… think I remember the access password of this place."
"Elliot is very useful," Leo chuckled to himself, as he followed to other down the corridor, avoiding the gazes of the nurses, until they reached the utility cupboard.
Once they'd gained access to the cupboard, in became obvious where they were going, Elliot using the same password to open the door at the back which led them to the garden. The area was in the centre of the four main buildings, cut off and isolated. It was mainly shielded by trees; hopefully, they couldn't be seen from the reception, which was just across from them. Fortunately, it was dark, and there weren't many windows on the ground floors. Nevertheless, they still weren't meant to be there.
"Hurry up. This is a smoking area for staff only," Elliot hissed.
Wordlessly, Leo nodded, and stuck the cigarette between his teeth with his back to Elliot. With the flame of the lighter held up to the tip, he swiftly lit up, inhaling deeply and exhaling a moment later with a sigh of relief, and a slightly dissatisfied expression. He stared at the cigarette, shrugged, and continued smoking it.
"What?" Elliot interrogated.
"Nothing much," Leo hummed, spinning around to the other and dragging pointedly on the cigarette once again. "I'm used to rolled. That's all."
"Right…"
The silence continued. It was agonisingly awkward, for both of them. Because they knew what would come next. They knew exactly what Elliot would ask. And they both knew that Leo would probably give in and answer this time.
Elliot took a deep breath, and bit the bullet. "Leo."
"Hm?" Leo feigned innocence, flitted his focus to the floor, and took another hit from the cigarette.
"How… how long were you using for?"
At first, Leo didn't respond, instead tapping the ash off the cigarette and pretending to ignore the question.
Unfortunately, that just didn't work this time. He had no excuse not to tell the other anymore.
"I guess you deserve to know, don't you?" Leo smiled weakly.
Elliot couldn't decipher whether the smile was genuine or caustic, but responded honestly anyway. "Yeah, I think… I do. After everything."
"Well then," Leo snickered, perching on the side of the bench. "Looks like it's story time for you, isn't it? For me, it's more like, 'let's try not to have a mental breakdown', but I'll tell you anyway.
"I've mentioned the car crash before. And you were right, in a way. That was where things started going wrong." He paused, dragging on the cigarette for a considerable amount of time before continuing. "I was 12 when that happened. As I said, my father was killed. My mother came out with a broken leg, and a concussion.
"I was in the car on the same side as my father; the same side the car hit us. I don't remember all of the details, but I think I had whiplash, three cracked ribs, and a fractured spine in several places. It's a surprise I'm not paralysed. I was immobilised in hospital for a long time, most of which I spent either unconscious or drugged up on morphine.
"Once I returned home, and was just about able to walk, they prescribed me OxyContin. 10mg pills, two in a day. A low dose, but enough to manage the pain," he explained, and then paused again. Elliot daren't say a word, listening devotedly and trying to let everything sink in. "My mother was diagnosed as bipolar at the time, due to my father's death. And our relationship went to shit, really. I wasn't keeping up with the physio, she'd yell at me for no reason, we didn't have any money, etcetera.
"I'd been given 18 months to recover, but I hadn't kept up with any of the physio, so the injuries in my spine never healed. Not really. And obviously, when the recovery period ends, the prescription ends." Leo stopped speaking once again, and Elliot could tell that talking about this was not easy. These were not good memories; these were memories he'd tried to suppress. "They tried to taper me off them, slowly decreasing the dose. And I lasted two days at a lower dose before I went out onto the streets and found the first dealer who would agree to sell opiates to a 14-year-old.
"My mother went back to work, and we were set up to a program which gave my mother £200 a week for me. And slowly, I began to use that money to buy the pills for myself. I convinced my mother to give it to me, or stole it. I was a clever 14-year-old, and a high-functioning drug addict. That was who I'd become.
"It was strange, really. I knew what I was taking, but I shouldn't have gotten addicted. A dependency, sure. I was warned about that from day one." Once again, Leo stopped speaking momentarily, dragging on the cigarette and carefully selecting his next words. "There was an experiment conducted, a long time ago now, called the 'rat park' experiment, I think. Have you heard of it?"
"Um, no…" Elliot shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Some rats were put into two cages, either one with loads of other rats, and loads of fun stuff to play on, and the others were put alone; isolated, and bored. And they were given two bottles: one with water, and one with water laced with morphine. Each time, when they were alone, the rats went straight for the morphine. But when they were in 'rat park', there was no pattern. They didn't need to unknowingly seek comfort in the morphine."
"Hang on," Elliot interjected. "If you know so much, how did you end up addicted?"
"Hm, that's a good question, isn't it?" Leo chuckled, but Elliot knew any amusement he conveyed was forced. "I'd done my research. I knew what was happening to me. And yet, I sat and watched myself slowly becoming the epitome of the person I said I'd never be."
"Oh…"
"But anyway, eventually, I moved myself up to 15mg. The 10mg just wasn't enough. The pain was still persistent, and my tolerance grew. So that emotional alleviation I was seeking each time just… didn't happen. And after that, I bumped myself up to taking three pills in a day. It was like a downward spiral, really. One I couldn't get out of.
"I was still at school full time, as well. And my mother was trying to move on with her life, too. So it wasn't much of a surprise that she didn't notice when I moved myself up to 20mg and started injecting it occasionally, just to get that extra little bit of a high. And I was embarrassed. But no one knew and I wanted it to remain that way.
"Shortly after I turned 15, I was already bored of living that life. I tried to stop, cold turkey. I passed it off as food poisoning, but only made it two days. The withdrawal was too intense.
"After I relapsed, my tolerance just shot up. And fairly soon after that, I was injecting all three 20mg pills a day." He sighed, exhaled the smoke, and glanced down at the cigarette. Disappointed? "I think it was about four months after that when I picked up the cigarettes. That was just habit, which escalated from two to five to eight to ten a day. My mother knew something was wrong with me, but her mental health was deteriorating as well. I know that was my fault. She was worried, and frankly depressed that she'd lost her control over me.
"When I turned 16, I finally started to get used to my life as it was. I accepted defeat, and decided I wouldn't stop until it killed me. I suited my life to work with it. I stole, I lied; I did whatever any addict would do. My relationship with my mother turned toxic, and we'd yell and fight non-stop, it seemed.
"The exams I took when I was 16 were more than enough to get me into college. I got the highest grades of anyone in my school, even though I hadn't shown up to half the year. But the area we were living in was pretty shit, and I went to a new college against my will, studying A Levels I hadn't even chosen," he explained, dropping the cigarette onto the ground and grinding it out with the heel of his shoe. Unsure what to do with his hands, he simply folded them over his chest, turning his back to Elliot. "I fought with other students seven times and got caught smoking in the toilets innumerable times, before they finally expelled me.
"At that point, my mother's counsellor suggested we move. So, we did, and ended up in the shithole we're in now. I wasn't going to school, and ended up just teaching myself the curriculum, assuming that one day I'd end up in school again.
"Obviously, moving meant finally a new drug dealer. The 20mg wasn't enough, either. I'd end up in acute withdrawal for days at a time, before eventually, I had to move myself up 40mg. Yes, I risked overdosing." He snorted. "As if I'd cared at that point. My life meant shit all to me.
"One thing led to another, and the deal I struck with my dealer had me everything I needed at £210 a week. Obviously, that just meant more stealing from my mother. More fighting, more arguing. Not to mention the fact I was smoking something like 15 a day, purely because I was bored, and I had to pay for the cigarettes somehow.
"You've seen how things go, so I'm sure you can guess what happened next.
"My tolerance increased. I was bored, and the addiction wasn't going to feed itself. So I ended up using four times a day: once when I wake up, once at around lunch, once after dinner, and then once again right before I go to sleep. And when you do that for 4 or 5 months, it takes its toll. 160mg of OxyContin a day is a lot, and it stressed me out. It was only a recently that my mother found out about the smoking, actually. Probably only two months or so before I joined your school.
"We had to go to routine appointments at the hospital, as well. Every fortnight, supposedly. She wanted me to have therapy, but I wasn't having any of it. They tried to shove me that Prozac shit, but I wouldn't take it." He paused, his words evidently suppressing aggression. "If they'd never prescribed me OxyContin in the first place, I wouldn't be where I am now.
"Anyway, that's… all there is to it, really," Leo exhaled in relief. It felt strange to have gotten that off his chest, but he didn't feel much better. More… exposed, if anything. These were secrets he'd tried to keep, and he'd just confessed everything at once? "I took the entrance exams to your school, and then was… enrolled, basically. And then I met you."
Elliot was speechless.
Everything he'd just been told was still sinking in. Everything, from the car crash to the prescription to the recovery to the almost four-year addiction to opiates.
His chest ached. He had nothing to say.
The silence didn't help that.
Until Leo broke it, at least. "Were you serious when you said you liked me?"
Elliot froze. Unsure whether or not to respond verbally, he instead remained silent. The shame and self-hate which came with facing up to the truth came flooding back, and nearly unnoticeably, with his head turned downwards, he nodded.
"Well then," Leo grinned, staring at the other until he initiated eye contact. "Why don't we make this official, then?"
Once again, Elliot was stunned into speechlessness.
And of course, the overly-complex, self-hate-stirring thoughts were back. Memories from when he first came to terms with his feelings towards the other haunted his conscience. He felt himself begin to tremble at the mere thought of… well, everything.
Okay, so his feelings weren't unrequited. Great. But that didn't take away from the fact he felt disgusting to feel that way. How could he say yes? His family would hate him, God forbid they ever found out. There would be no end to it. He'd barely even come out to two people. How on earth was he supposed to say yes?
His knees grew weak, his stomach twisting and turning repeatedly. There was no way he could say yes.
But at the same time, he couldn't suppress that little voice at the back of his mind telling him that this was what he'd wanted. This was what he'd been waiting for. This is what endless nights of incessant thoughts of his true sexuality would amount to.
He'd get to be with the person he loved.
"You can't doubt how hard this will be for me. I could use a motivation, you know. Someone who I'd be… well, doing this for," Leo said, his tone indecipherable. Albeit Elliot was most likely stuck in too deep of a trance to truly pay attention to what the other was implying. The noirette stood, and took three steps towards Elliot, narrowing the gap between them. "And you know, Elliot. I think I've begun to like you, as well. Because, well, you're not all that bad, really."
Internally, Elliot was still freaking out.
But none of that mattered anymore. Not when Leo leant up, closed his eyes, and captured Elliot's lips in a delicate and undeniably meaningful kiss. A kiss that spoke a million and one apologies. A confession, you might even say.
The shame and hatred dissipated after that, as his eyes lulled shut, and he melted into the kiss. The lingering taste of tobacco cross-contaminated his taste-buds when Leo slipped a tongue into his mouth, after he'd unknowingly brought a hand up to the back of the noirette's head, pulling them closer.
This was what his feelings had amounted to: a moment of passion, and raw truth.
A few moments later, Leo pulled away, grinning up at a blatantly flustered Elliot. "I'll take that as a yes, then."
Furiously, eagerly, Elliot nodded.
It didn't matter what his parents' and siblings' reaction was (if he ever told them, which he wasn't planning on doing). Because that moment they just shared was too strong to make any of that relevant.
He felt a huge alleviation, as well. Break was right; there was one person who would give him the closure he needed. And this was what he'd needed.
It was okay. He'd keep it a secret. It would be something they shared between them.
"Come on, let's go back inside," Leo promptly, snapping Elliot from his daze as he pushed open the door again. He seemed unfazed by everything, whilst Elliot was still internally screaming. "Haha. The nurses are probably so confused."
Wordlessly, he rolled his eyes, but followed Leo inside nonetheless.
And then, the moment they passed the threshold into the corridor again, Elliot froze, dead in his tracks.
His knees turned to jelly. His palms began to sweat profusely. His anxiety and heartrate increased exponentially, to the point where he thought his heart would beat out of his chest, he'd throw up, or both.
No.
There was no way this was happening.
He was fucked, to say so bluntly. He was well and truly, royally fucked. He would not get out of this easily – if at all.
Because the two people who stood in front of him were probably the most influential people in his entire life. And, if the stern, disgusted, mortified expressions stuck on their faces were anything to go by, the two most influential people in his entire life had just witnessed him making out with Leo.
They'd seen it. Of course they had.
The two most influential people in his entire life being his father, and Vanessa, that was. They had seen it.
He swallowed thickly. No one spoke at first. And it seemed as though Leo had yet to figure out what was going on.
Then, after a solid minute of nothing but interrogative staring, his father spoke. Not directly to Elliot, at that, but to one of the nurses; the first one he saw. "Excuse me, you. Take this boy back to his room at once."
"Y-Yes sir," they stuttered, fully aware of who had given the orders, and slightly intimidated by them. Immediately, they obeyed, dragging Leo away.
That left Elliot alone with his father and sister, a humiliated expression spread across his guilt-stricken features.
Elliot did not want to be left alone with those two right now.
"I'm waiting," Vanessa spat after another brief silence, folding her arms over her chest and sharpening her glare – if that were even possible at this point.
"F-For what?" Elliot stammered. Yes, just play innocent. That's… obviously going to work, right…?
No, of course it won't, idiot.
This is bad. Very bad.
"You know exactly what I mean," she said, words cold and bitter. "Why were you kissing that repulsive brat?"
Elliot swallowed thickly, and then exhaled a heavy sigh, hiding his trembling hands in his pocket and closing his eyes for a few seconds in a futile attempt to somewhat regain his composure. Once his eyes were open, and he was slightly disappointed that he hadn't been dreaming, he inhaled a deep breath, but refused to meet their glares. Embarrassment consumed him, a dark red blush on his cheeks amplifying that. "Can we please take this somewhere more private?"
"I own these corridors, boy," his father declared. "We will discuss where I say we discuss."
"O-Okay…"
"Well?" Vanessa demanded again. "An explanation?"
There was no getting around it. They'd seen it with their own eyes. Trying to deny it would do more harm than good, as they'd obviously have access to the CCTV footage, and so denying it would just get him shunned for lying.
He was going to be shunned for being gay, anyway. There was no point being dishonest about it. The truth was the truth – the horrible, undeniable truth.
Tears began pricking at his eyes again. But rather than letting them fall, and breaking down, like every other time he'd come out, he bit them back this time, and faced his father and sister dead in the eyes.
And he spoke with absolute certainty in his tone, not letting any emotional falter become evident through his words.
"Alright, yes! Yes, I kissed him. Yes, I like him. Yes, h-he's my boyfriend! And, finally, yes, I'm gay! A-And that's who I am and there's absolutely nothing you can say or do that's going to change that!"
His father and sister were utterly speechless.
Shit.
Until Vanessa sighed, shook her head, and replied. "I really thought better of you, Elliot."
"I will give you something that will change that," his father declared. It was difficult to tell how annoyed he was, but from the way he was setting up his next words, it seemed, things were not looking too great for Elliot. "You are not to return to our home until you have realised how childish you are acting."
That hit hard, and his heart sunk. To hear what he'd just heard was a punch in the stomach.
His suspicions and dreads really had been true. He really was disgusting.
A tightness in his chest began to well up. At the very least, he had to make it away from them, and back to Leo, where he could be somewhere alone, with no one else but the one person he trusted.
Without looking back on his sister and father, he spun of his heel, dropped his head to the floor, and stormed off towards the room he remembered Leo was in. He had no idea if they'd left or not, but the silence surrounding him at least confirmed him that they hadn't followed.
Then, when he arrived, and laid eyes on Leo, somehow, that disgust he held for himself felt just a little better. Enough for him to snap back into reality, shut the door, and wipe his tears away.
"I'm sorry," Leo said, already hooked up to the IV and curled up in the bed. "I heard everything."
"It's… it's okay," he lied. "No, I lied. I-It's not, and it's… I-I've been kicked out of my home, fuck." Great. He was panicking again. "They're… leaving me here tonight, I think."
"If it'll work out with me, it'll work out with you."
It was a simple message, but it settled the raging anxiety inside him – enough for him to stop crying; enough to make this just bearable.
The next thing he noted was that Leo had since stood up, approached him steadily, and placed his lips back onto his. And then, the heaviness in his chest was soon replaced with warmth.
Leo's words rang through Elliot's head, as he closed his eyes once again and softly placed a hand on other's waist.
If it'll work out with me, it'll work out with you.
By no means was any of this okay, but something about it seemed good enough.
Good enough – just for the two of them.