Chapter Twenty Two Wake-Up Call

Have you ever had a moment where you take a step back, look at your life and not like what you see? Well when that happens most people try to reassess their choices and turn their life around. I, however, was not most people. My response to that was downing enough Firewhiskey so that I couldn't even remember my own name. Generally it worked. I could usually drink myself to blissful ignorance but it was inevitable that eventually it would catch up to me. Whether it was liver failure or just something big enough to shake me from my drunken stupor it still loomed in the future, despite my ignorance of its existence.

There were some definite advantages to my lifestyle. For example, not many people could boast that they spent their N.E.W.T.s year barhopping. On the other hand there were some serious disadvantages. Every once in a while I'd be sober enough to realize that with every shot of Firewhiskey and every missed lesson I was destroying my future. I wasn't going to miraculously just get all O's on my N.E.W.T.s without any preparation or studying. I was continually screwing myself over and while I did care I still couldn't bring myself to do anything about it. Alcohol was safer than sobriety, it was more comfortable. Why would I choose dealing with painful and conflicted feelings when I could just drink them away after all? When I drank I didn't remember anything that happened with Marren or... him. I could forget about being shafted in the deal and just live in the drunken moment.
I'd been tempting fate for long enough. After all, with all the bad behavior I'd been displaying it was only a matter of time before the universe decided to punish me. I'd only wished it'd been a little more forgiving about it.

I was drinking with a few of my "mates", or really just some of the more rowdy, alcohol-loving students Hogwarts had to offer. They were a rougher crowd and made the self-proclaimed "bad boys of the school", the Marauders, look like chumps. I generally enjoyed drinking with them because I didn't have to worry that they couldn't hold their liquor. They could drink with the best of us and I never had to worry that they'd pass out or vomit on me or even drown in their own vomit. It was always appreciated when I didn't have to wear some bloke's vomit because he couldn't hold his own Firewhiskey.

"Come on, Cher," one of the blokes pestered. I think he was a Ravenclaw. What was his name? Ryan? Brian? Oh who the hell knows anyways? "You should try some. They're amazing. You'll feel like you're flying for hours."

"Do I look new? Even I'm not drunk enough to try mixing booze and pills," I told him while working on my second bottle of Firewhiskey that night. "Maybe tomorrow, love. Speaking of pills, where's Robin?"

Ryan/Brian/Whoever The Fuck He Was shrugged, "I haven't seen her since yesterday. She said something about meeting a bloke who had a package for her or something."
I nodded. Her heroin must have come in. She'd been so bloody excited about it. I don't why she'd been so fanatic about the bloody stuff. I personally had no desire to shoot up with anything. I had an aversion to stabbing myself with sharp things no matter what the effect was. "I'll - I'll go find her and congratulate the bint."

"You sure? You don't seem to firm on your feet," he pointed out.

He was right. I was stumbling like... well, a drunk. "I'll be fine," I assured him, waving him off in an over-exaggerated manner. "You go ahead and fly away with your pills." I managed to stagger away in a way that it'd be obvious even to a blind person that I was sauced.

It was surprising that I hadn't been expelled yet for displaying such unruly behavior, especially since McGonagall had been gunning for me for years. I mean, I was a horrid drunk that never went to classes so why did they even let me stay in school? Looking bad I'm surprised that they hadn't thrown me out on my arse. McGonagall at least probably wanted to. Dumbledore always seemed to be the forgiving one. For example, there was that one time that a few Slytherins got in trouble for using an Imperius Curse against Mary McDonald and they didn't even get expelled. Dumbledore did make them get tailed by professors wherever they went and they got detentions for the rest of the year but in the real world they would have gotten a one-way ticket to Azkaban. I guess I was just lucky that Dumbledore was Headmaster and not McGonagall. If she had been then I would've been kicked out without a second thought. I don't know why she hated me so much. It might have been that I almost never attended her class and when I did I would either sleep in the back of the classroom or talk to Robin through it. It also could have been that I didn't respect her as much as she wanted or that I didn't consider the school rules to be as important as she did. I suppose it might have been a combination of reasons now that I think about it. Let's just say it wasn't my hair. The red was gone and she still treated me with the same level of distain.

"Wotcher Clark," I recognized the voice of the slimy git, Ethan Young. Merlin, even I wasn't drunk enough to deal with that prat. Actually I was never drunk enough to deal with him. Maybe if I tried dealing with him while I was on pills… Hm… That might work…

"Piss off, Young," I told him disinterestedly. "I don't have time to be bothered with your bullocks."

"Aw come on, love. There's no reason to be mean," he told me breezily, easily keeping up with my stride. "I was only trying to be cordial."

I snorted, "First of all, I have no desire to be nice to you. Second of all, you're never cordial, just horny. Thirdly, just run again. I can't be arsed with you."

He stopped in his tracks, grabbing my arm and yanking me to a stop. "I'm done being nice to you about this, Clark. I'm going to have you one way or another so I suggest you stop fighting me on this."

I rolled my eyes at him, "Sod off, git. I may be pissed but even I'm not stupid enough to believe your empty threats. You don't intimidate me. You're just a pervert who doesn't like to keep it in his pants. Now let me go before I break your face." I had to hand it to myself for being a generally laid-back and happy drunk I was impressively intimidating. I suppose my loathing of him must have been so intense that it transcended into my usual happy-go-drunkenness.

He gave me a scathing look but released his hold of my arm nonetheless, "You're going to regret this, sooner rather than later." He dramatically walked away, looking like some sort of teenage drama queen.

Didn't we have enough dramatic teenage girls in Hogwarts? To me it seemed like we had a surplus and were not in any need of any more. Maybe we should have shipped some of our excess to Beauxbatons. They always seemed to have more room for bitchy teenage girls.
I continued my hunt for Robin. She was being impressively hard to find, though I was drunker than hell so I suppose that might have had something to do with the reason that I couldn't seem to track her down. I checked the Ravenclaw Tower but her bed was empty and I searched the corridors but she was nowhere in sight. She'd always been a bit dramatic about the ways she liked to rebel. When she rebelled she liked to "do it right". That pretty much meant that she liked to drugs in a stereotypical way and whatever else she could do to brass her family off.

The Firewhiskey was beginning to wear off and I was beginning to feel the effects of a hangover. Merlin, it kind of felt like someone smacked me in the forehead with a sledgehammer. I generally never had any problems with hangovers. In fact, I had a foolproof technique for never getting any. When I began to feel one coming on then I'd start drinking again so that it never caught up with me. Of course that meant that I was literally always drunk to some degree but I never got the head-splitting hangovers and I quite enjoyed the idea of never being sober. Sobriety complicated things. I was a simple drunk. Fun was good and drama and emotions were bad. It was a very easy, cut and dry philosophy but it suited my life fine.

As the alcohol began to lose its effect I started to begin to consider where she'd hide away for her first heroin use. Like I said before she really was one of those traditionalist when it came to anything rebellious. She was one for the classics. You know, smoking under the Quidditch Pitch stands, shagging in broom cupboards... Broom cupboards. That was it! My drug addict friend was hiding away in a cupboard!

There were dozens of broom cupboards in Hogwarts. There had to have been at least thirty but I'd never taken the time to actually count them. There were some that were more likely to be used by horny couples who wanted some time alone and she'd be less likely to be there than any of the other more isolated and discreet cupboards so that ruled out most of the ground level. There was still at least twenty five other than them though, not including the dungeons. After all, she might have been obsessed but she was still a Ravenclaw and therefore smart enough to stay out of Slytherin territory when she was alone. I was done trying to use logical. I'd crossed two floors off my list before I even began searching cupboards and my brain was already reeling from having to use that much brain power. Since I'd stopped using my mind for anything productive and only for making plans for getting alcohol it made it harder for me to be logical about anything or really even try to think about anything for too long. There was that whole saying about "use it or lose it" and apparently I was losing my mind, or at least my ability to make rational thoughts for more than a few moments at a time.

I started on the First Floor and continued on my way up the floors. I didn't really have a logical search pattern, of course. I just would start on the bottom and work my way to the top. Eventually I would find her. Or not. If not then she wasn't in a cupboard and then I was wrong. I had a feeling I wasn't wrong though. She wasn't usually one to disappoint me. She was usually pretty predictable, despite her appearance to be unpredictable and unruly to the outside world. She was... predictably unpredictable. Yes, I suppose that really was her. She'd break rules and do stupid things but she always did it in a logical and consistent way.

I made it to the Third Floor when I was beginning to feel exhausted and like I was never going to find her. Where could she possibly have gone? I wasn't even halfway through the floors but I felt like I'd been searching for her for hours. My hangover was only getting worse and between it and my exhaustion I thought I was going to die before I ever saw my mate again.

She was on Fourth Floor. I opened the cupboard door and I could immediately smell her perfume. "Robin? Robin, pet, it's late. Let's go back to the Tower. Robin?" I grasped her shoulder and she fell forward, clattering to the floor. "Robin?" I questioned with my urgency. She was cold to the touch. "Robin? Robin, wake up! Please? Come on, Rob, this isn't funny! Robin?" I felt for a pulse, looking desperately for any sign that she was still alive. I heard myself scream but I didn't realize I was the one who let it out. It was like my brain wouldn't let me accept what I was seeing. The concept that Robin was gone was too much for my brain to process.

"Honestly, Clark, it's almost curfew. Do you really have to –" I heard the Ginger Hell Spawn spit at me in her generally belligerent manner. She caught one look at Robin at the floor and for once in her life she shut her ungodly lopsided mouth. "Oh my God," she managed to eventually mutter. "Oh my God."

I wanted to tell her that she wasn't helping and that we needed Madam Pomfrey but my mouth wouldn't work. I tried to speak but no words would come out and I was glued to the spot. It was like I was suddenly mute and immobile.

"James!" she suddenly shrieked. "James!" Merlin, looking back I actually had to feel sorry for Potter. I mean, he must have had some sort of mental problems to willingly date such a high-maintenance bitch, especially one with such an annoying and nagging voice.

Suddenly the poor bastard appeared. "Lils, what's - Oh," he fell silently as he saw Robin. "Is she…"

"We need to get Madam Pomfrey," Lily interrupted him. "And we need to get her to the Hospital Wing."

I could feel both of them look at me and nodded. "I'll take her," he volunteered. "You stay here and wait for Pomfrey, alright? I'll send her as fast as I can. Come on, Clark."

I knew he was telling me to move and for the first time I wanted to actually listen to him but my legs still wouldn't work. I was glued to the spot. I couldn't help but look at Robin's lifeless body in horror, my brain not even able to process the simple command to look away. In all my life I'd never felt so useless.

"Clark," he commanded again. He and the Head Bitch exchanged a look. I'd never quite seen that look before and since I only saw it out of the corner of my eye I wasn't quite sure I'd seen the full extent of it. However, it did look like it was almost a sympathetic look. They looked genuinely like they were sorry for me. "Come on Clark," he said again, though this time his voice was softer and less commanding. So I guess he really did have the ability not to be a prat to me all the time. Who would have figured?

He grabbed hold of my arm and the sudden sensation of being touched made my brain regain some of its previous ability. I nodded to show him I understood. I might have recovered my ability to move but I still didn't have the ability to comprehend what I was seeing. It was like my brain wasn't capable of accepting the fact Robin was gone. It refused to even consider the possibility. I began to move in what felt like a slow motion speed down the corridor with Potter easily keeping up with my stride by my side.

I felt like some sort of zombie as we traveled down the corridor, taking the changing staircases down to the first floor. We probably should have ran but I think that deep down we both knew that time was no longer of an essence. Even if we'd Apparated to the Hospital Wing Pomfrey wouldn't have been able to do any good. I might not have been able to accept the fact that she was gone but I think I knew subconsciously that it was all over with. Even with my brain not cooperating with me deep down I still knew, even if I didn't necessarily know that I knew.

"Madam Pomfrey," I hardly even registered Potter saying as we arrived finally at the Hospital Wing what felt like ages later. "Madam Pomfrey!"

The middle-aged School Healer appeared from behind a curtain, "Mr. Potter, what in the world are you yelling about? This is a place for injured and sick students to recover and I would appreciate it if you would respect that and -"

"Madam Pomfrey, please. We don't have time for formalities," he interrupted her impatiently. "There's a dead student in a broom cupboard upstairs. And this one needs something for the shock," he nodded in my direction.

She nodded urgently, "I see that. She'll just have to wait here until we get back. Miss Clark, go lay down on an empty bed, alright? I'll be right back for you."

I nodded to demonstrate my understanding but it was useless considering that they were already gone. I found an empty bed just like Pomfrey had told me. It took less thought power to obey orders than make my own. Generally I would disobey any authority figure's orders just because I could but now didn't seem like the right time for such childish rebellion. I wouldn't gain anything from being insubordinate and it would only cause unnecessary trouble when there was enough going on without any help from me.

I laid in that bed for what seemed like ages. I don't know how long I laid there. With my lack of mental capabilities my sense of time eroded away. It felt like days but I still had enough common sense to know that it couldn't have been longer than a few minutes. Pomfrey would never leave the Hospital Wing unguarded for that long after all. That didn't have any consolation for me considering the fact that I couldn't tell the difference between a minute or an hour or a day. Every second drew out like a lifetime. If I'd been in my right mind I would've been preparing myself for the inevitable news. I would have been softening the blow but at the same time Robin was the closest thing I'd ever had to a sister. How can you soften the blow of losing a sibling? Telling them that they're in a better place, that their suffering is over now doesn't work when you're talking about a seventeen year old girl.

"Well fancy finding you here, Clark," I heard the reptilian voice of Young ring out in the otherwise silent Hospital Wing. "What? Did one of those mean Slytherins finally get to you?" he sneered at me patronizingly. "What did they do to you, huh? Full-Body Bind? Hm? Silencing Charm too, huh? Well it looks like today just keeps getting better and better for me, huh? So, Clark, do you have anything you want to say? Perhaps an apology for that little attitude of yours earlier? Oh right, I forgot. Someone got you with a Silencing Charm. Well I suppose that's just as well. You always were a stubborn little bint. You're never really one to apologize, are you? Well I suppose I'll just have to teach you a lesson then, won't I?"

I looked at him miserably. If I'd been myself I'd have told him to piss off and that I wasn't intimidated by him or that I wanted him to leave so I didn't catch any of his communicable diseases. Yet again, I wasn't myself. I couldn't the will or the energy in me to fight back. I could only just lay there and hope that'd be over quickly enough that none of the damage would be permanent. Feelings of shame drifted over me as I laid there motionlessly as he crept behind the curtain with a predatory smirk on his face. I'd never really been one to let myself get taken advantage of like this. I'd always known how to take care of myself but now I just couldn't even make myself tell this prat to stay away from me. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. I just laid there like I somehow accepted what was coming to me.

"You know, Clark, you're not nearly as special as you think you are," he informed me as he sauntered onto the bed. He put his knee on the hospital bed, causing it to groan underneath his weight as he pinned me against the bed. "You walk around like some sort of gift from above, flaunting your legs like a bloody prostitute. Do you enjoy teasing men? Huh? Do you enjoy degrading them like they're not worth your time? Huh, Clark? Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He roughly grabbed hold of my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Much better. I want you to know that I take you I'm going to make sure you don't enjoy it. I want you to feel a taste of the pain you've been dishing out for years."

The shame that was beginning to bleed through the numb was nothing compared to the dread and almost fear. I was honestly terrified but I couldn't make myself react. It was like in sometimes when you know you're having a nightmare and you're watching the dream happen in first person and you want to make the dream version of you do something else but you can't. You have no control over your body and you can't make yourself wake up so you're being held at the mercy of the nightmare. This was my nightmare and I wasn't waking up. I wasn't going to be able to just pinch myself and just wake up. This nightmare wasn't going to end on my terms. I was just going to have to suffer through it until it was over.

I could feel his hands slithering across me, ripping at the front of my uniform. I saw the buttons fly across the room and I couldn't help but feel sorry for the House Elf in the laundry who was going to have to end the buttons back on. What a silly thing to think, isn't it? About having to get your shirt mended when you're about to be raped? I guess that just goes to emphasize what I'd said before about not being in my mind.

His teeth grazed against my neck, biting and gnawing against my tender flesh until I felt like he was going to start drawing blood. As his teeth abused my neck I could feel his hand roughly slide along my thigh. He pushed my legs apart mercilessly, bruising them without a second thought. It was like the years of my rejecting him all of a sudden brought this monster out of him. He'd always been a creep but I'd never expected him to be capable of this.

I forced myself to stop thinking about what he was doing, trying to just ride out the storm. This pain couldn't last forever. I needed to just survive until it was over.

"Madam Pomfrey, you have to let me see her!" I heard a familiar voice demand from beyond the curtain. I didn't think much about it at the time. The curtain was closed and Young had gone silent. No one would have known what was happening behind that curtain unless they opened it. I couldn't make myself make any noise at all to catch any of their attention either. Unless Pomfrey opened it then it wouldn't make any difference at all whether Young and I were alone in the room or not.

I tried to clear my thoughts, trying not to think of the rapist on top of me or the fact that the closest thing I'd ever had to a sister was probably in a body bag at that moment. I didn't even want to listen to what the people outside the curtain were arguing about. I just wanted to completely disconnect from everything.

"Well you know what? I don't bloody care about your policies, Pomfrey! I'm seeing her whether you like it or not!" the voice from before announced. The hospital curtain was suddenly yanked open. "What the fuck?"

The commotion forced me to stop my disconnect attempt. I turned my head to glance at the recently opened curtain. What happened next was so fast it was like I just saw a blur of color. The next thing I knew Young had been pulled off of me and was on the floor with someone else on top of him, using him like a human punching bag.

I tentatively sat up, unsure of what had happened or what this meant for me now. Pomfrey was looking at the violent display on the floor with horror. Apparently I wasn't the only one that day who was having trouble making her brain communicate with the rest of her body. "Mr. Black, stop it! Get off Mr. Young right now!"

Black? "Sirius?" I almost thought for a moment that I'd thought that I'd only imagined saying his name. It'd been a while since I'd spoken and even longer since I spoke his name. I knew, however, that when he turned to look at me he heard me.

He immediately got off of Young, leaving him bleeding on the floor and rushing to my bedside. He gingerly pulled my now button-less shirt closed before bringing me to his chest. It felt like suddenly I could breathe, finally being able to inhale after weeks of my oxygen being stifled.

"Is she okay?" I heard the distinctive small voice of one Ali Marren. I thought I'd never be able to hear that Puff speak again without being filled with feelings contempt and anger. Surprisingly enough I wasn't angry at her anymore. I wasn't angry at anyone anymore. I don't know it was the relief of knowing that Sirius didn't hate me or the stress of what happened to Robin but it was like I couldn't be bothered to hold those grudges anymore.

I could feel him nod, "She'll be fine." For the first time in a very long time, despite all the chaos and insanity, I actually agreed. Eventually I really was going to be fine. Now it was just a matter of surviving until then.