He coughed, hacked, cleared his throat. He could still taste the coffee and those chilled lips. He looked up down all around. Just not there.
"Have you ever thought, just once, that you were alone? The world, this place-"
And something inside him died when he said that. And he was alone once again and begging and screaming and that dying, dead thing. It was rotting. He never meant it. It was done. He had done it. His own two lips, the culprits. The regret was beginning to leak out. After the shock.
With this, but, now, there was something. And it was new. Nothing else. He looked towards it.
He sounded like an alien. But he sounded nothing like her. Like Chloe, the wise little girl. Along with the others she was gone now and there he was again. Sitting on that seat and staring at Sasha who never took off his glasses.
"All the time. We are all alone, Razputin."
He was supposed to be a mentor and supposed to be giving sage advice, but here and there he was. No clean nothing comforting or supportive or happy. Truth. Supposedly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
If Raz heard that one more time, he might break down. Further and deeper into the pit. With no way out, no powers no savior. Just further even together.
"You know perfectly well what it means." And with great seriousness.
And what sort of a teacher tells a student that?
Existence is meaningless. Life is meaningless. You.
Some philosophy bullshit. Ohh God, just a personal belief. A personal lie. Lying to oneself? Possibilities and answers and only one way-
To challenge this and all those other fucking kids.
"You're just saying that- because that's what you are. What you feel. All you feel. Nothing and emptiness. You're just a tired lonely man."
Suppression and sickness.
A lost, corrupted hero. No longer.
The boy was surprised at his rage and had never done so before. He was in and out of his mouth came this. Existence like nothing.
"Maybe."
Maybe! Maybe?! Raz frowned and shoved the mug into Sasha's hands. Sasha stepped back as Raz stepped forward and out the door.
"You're sick."
They both were.
Except for Milla. He never went to her for advice, unlike the other kids. He always went to Sasha Nein. Except now, well-
"Razputin! I have not seen you in a long time," she grabbed his hands, cheerfully. In a very different way then Sasha had.
Raz couldn't help but smile. Milla's office was the extreme opposite of Sasha's; loud, exuberant, colorful, happy, fun. She was the "best friend" type of counselor. Good cop bad cop.
She welcomed him with an orange couch and hot chocolate, even in summer. It looked exactly like coffee but it tasted sweet. Almost too sweet.
"So, tell me darling," she started and stopped.
Raz sputtered. "Tell you what."
Milla smiled and her eyes twinkled. She put a warm, naked hand on Raz's shoulder. She knew, surely. Well, everybody else did.
"What is the matter with you! Of course. How are you feeling."
Raz sat forward and leaned back again. His green uniform appearing new against the orange.
"Ohh. I'm fine."
The woman smiled. "Then why did you come here?"
The boy frowned. "I can't have a reason for visiting you?"
Milla stood up, swirling her hips to match her dress. A question to a question.
"Come now, dear. I know why you are here. You don't just visit me- No, no, I understand. You are very busy with your work."
Work. What work?
"I'm sorry?" He tries. He makes a point to visit her more often. Even in such an uncomfortable time, he misses her.
She sighs and breathes in.
"Ohh, darling, you are just like him," she smiles. "So much like him. You are almost the same person, I am sure."
Oh no oh no- this is just what he wanted to avoid! Even her, even Milla.
He is silent. His hot chocolate is cold, but the mug is warm. He sweats, wishes these uniforms were thinner.
He stops, holds his breath, listens to her. Watches her sit and close her eyes and dream of the past. Taking the hint, he closes his eyes and does the same. He remembers.
When he was ten, Sasha was his hero. Milla was wonderful and he knew it.
When he was eleven, Milla held Sasha's hand. Sasha pulled his gloves on tighter.
Lili cuts her hair the next year. She hates it, hates change. Raz likes it.
Raz gets a hicky from Lili. He pokes at it while training with Sasha. Sasha adjusts his glasses.
When he is fourteen, he watches Sasha smile.
At fifteen, he loses his virginity to Lili. He watches Lili smile. Everything will be okay.
When he is sixteen he breaks up with Lili, kisses Sasha. Milla holds his hand and tells him that everything really will be okay. She lets go, he lets go. He grabs onto something else; a thin red line connecting him from point A to point B.
So quickly have his emotions fluctuated. He feels tranquil and peaceful and yet he doesn't give a damn. He wants to learn, he wants to move on, let go. Even when Bobby calls him a faggot, he keeps walking. Even when Lili punches Bobby in the face for calling Raz a faggot, he keeps walking. Even when she smiles at him and wipes her face, he walks to an open door.
He felt like he was walking in on a ghost. And- speak of the Devil.
Agent Nein leans over his desk, blue. Smoke encircles his head. For such an immaculately clean man, it is surprising that he has such an addictive, disgusting habit. But even something so dirty can smell and taste so good.
Raz smirks. "That stuff can kill you, you know."
The older man lifts his head and brushes back his hair. He grins.
"What can't?"
And the door stays open.
OY VEY. I finally finished this damn story. Hate the ending, but I don't care.
This characters belong to Double Fine, yo. C: