Chapter 3

Cold

Just Like You Imagined - Nine Inch Nails

Cold , anger, sorrow. Dark chocolate eyes with a hit of red. A cocky confident grin that pulls people to it. Skin that crawls under my touch.

Brothers, friends, enemies, difficult to love, impossible to hate. One small and angry, the other a deep black pit. A voice calling, telling, known, but impossible.

Drugged green eyes that take pleasure in my pain. Pull them, kill them, make the grin stop.

Fingers clawing, clawing at myself, leaving blood filled runnels in their wake. Pain intense and stinging. Pain all over.

My eyes flip open and show the cold white ceiling tiles. My lungs suck in a harsh deep breath and my body convulses around itself. The fear and anger still sharp in my heart.

A few sobbing breaths escape then the darkness closes around me. In the other bed my roommate mumbles and turns but doesn't wake. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and try to slow my blood.

It's late, so late that it's almost early. No sign of the sun yet but it'll be out soon enough.

It takes at least one round for my heart to calm and my body to uncurl. The familiarity of the guards opening the door and running a flashlight over my roommate and myself doesn't even make me flinch. That gives me fifteen minutes before they come back.

I half roll, half fall of the bed and press my cheek against the freezing chill of the tile floor. It feels good but I need more. Need something, crave something that will make my body forget the aftermath of dreams.

I push my arms underneath me and start doing push ups. My eyes focus on the tiny square of light the window lets in. Two inches in front of me and greasy yellow from the street-lamp outside. It fills my vision blocking everything else out. I let it fill my mind as well, think of nothing but your breath. Keep an ear open and alert: if the guards find you, they'll use sedatives. Sedatives are bad. Hear the constant, steady stream of breath, listen for footsteps and doors.

The system works, like it has for the last year. When the door opens again I'm curled on my bed just like I was when they last checked. They never seem to notice that my back is covered in sweat or that my arms are shaking. I'm just another crazy. When the door closes I switch to squats and continue.

By the time dawn shows on the walls my heart is racing and my hair is damp. I feel slightly better. I've erased the dream, but everything else is still with me. Dr. Crescent taught me this. She started me in the workout room when I was downgraded from solitary confinement. She thought the endorphins would help me. They did, but not enough, never enough. After the first year they took away my workout room privileges. I had been using it everyday. Can't have the crazies getting stronger than the guards so they took it away from me. Patients aren't supposed to exercise without supervision, but I cheat.

That's when the system came into play. Only at night and only near the end of the guards' shifts. If they've had a quiet night they won't inspect me- much. I think Dr. Crescent knows I'm doing something, but she's never said anything about it. So I keep using the system, only when I wake up and don't want to think, but that happens most nights.

The wake up alarm sounds at seven and the nurses come by to drop off clean clothes. I change without objection. I don't get my turn in the showers until tomorrow but the clothes help. It's always the same, pale baby blue cotton drawstring pants and a matching pull on shirt. They give us slippers too but I don't wear them anymore. The cold floor keeps me awake, alert and that's what I need to be at all times.

The breakfast bell goes off at seven thirty. Those that get showers today file off with the male staff, those that don't get first crack at breakfast. We line up outside our rooms and wait for the nurses to lead us off. The first stop for everybody is the medicine counter. They hand you small cups of water and usually several pills. You can't get breakfast until you've shown the nurses an empty mouth. After that it's onto the cafeteria.

I collect my tray without even looking at what's on it and retreat to my usual corner. There's a place where the tables don't quite fill the room right next to the barred windows. About 4ft square that nobody has a right to be in but me. I eat standing up, the staff are used to it by now. There's too much chance of someone touching me at the tables. Too many legs and elbows, not enough room for me to be separate.

As soon as breakfast is mostly done, the head orderly makes announcements. "Good morning everyone. Sections A and B have group therapy today. A is in room one hundred and fourteen at nine am. B is in the same room at one. Don't make us come and get you. We've got a ping pong tournament in the common room starting at four. It's a nice sunny day outside, so those of you who want to go out sign up on the list next to the pharmacy window. It's still cold so you won't be allowed out without slippers and a jacket. Tonight there's cookies and music in the common room. Now get up and find out if you have any appointments today."

Part of my tension relaxes. I'm a D, so no group therapy and they're letting some of us outside. I stay in my corner until the room has half emptied and most of the people left are sitting down. My corner is safe from people, but if I leave it I'm vulnerable. Once there's a clear path I turn my tray in and head for the list. A good day is a day when I get to go outside, even in winter. It's been too cold for us to go out lately, but I need it. Need the cold and frost and fire.

I'm lucky when I see the list. Two names are on it and there's no one loitering. I quickly sign my name and room number.

"Is that the list to go outside?" A guy asks from behind me. I whip around with the pencil still in my hand. "Great, gimme the pencil so I can sign." He reaches to take it out of my hand. I fling the pencil at him and ram my spine into the wall.

"Don't touch me." It comes out as a growl. Not loud enough for anyone but him to hear, but one of the orderlies starts in my direction.

The guy narrows his eyes, but I don't stay to find out what happens next. My back edges along the wall then I turn and lurch away.

I beat a hasty retreat from the orderlies and other patients and return to my room. If I'm not there when they come to collect us for outside I may not get to go. It's happened once or twice and it is torture. My slippers are at the base of the bed and I make sure my jacket is draped over the end. Then I cross my legs and sit in the center of the bed to stare at the wall.

During the day they only do checks every half hour and two of them go by before someone collects me to go outside. I push my feet into the hated slippers and grab the jacket before the nurse has the door more than halfway open. We gather in the common room and then two guards and a nurse lead our shuffling line through the safety doors.

One of the guards today is Vincent. This is a good day. I like Vincent, at least as much as I like anybody here. He's cold and quick. He rarely says anything, even when he's bashing heads. I don't think we've ever spoken a word to each other. The only reason I know his name is because I've heard Dr. Crescent talk to him. But sometimes I can get away with things around him that no one else would tolerate so I like him.

Outside is actually a very small heavily fenced off area behind the institute. It's fifteen feet by thirty feet of grass bordered by sidewalk on all sides. There are no trees, no bushes, and even in summer no flowers. It's not much, but it's all I'll get.

The two guards peel off and station themselves at either end of the area, radios at the ready. The nurse herds us out onto the grass and starts playing a complicated version of patty-cake with one of the other patients. I weave my way around the other people with plenty of extra room and claim the only corner where you can't see the building behind us. There's nothing but flat fields in that direction and it's better that way.

After a few minutes of staring out I surreptitiously push off the slippers and let my feet touch the bare grass. There's still frost on it and it's a shock, but one I welcome. I want to strip off my shirt and lay on it but that will get me shoved back inside so I don't. The cold is good. It dulls everything. I wonder how long I'll get away with it, but minutes pass and the nurse doesn't do anything. I revel in the feeling and stand with my arms crossed and my feet on the ground staring out at the frost covered field.

I stand there for more than an hour before I hear footsteps crushing the frost behind me.

"Strife," Vincent says quietly, his voice is low and soft and barely carries to my ears. "Dr. Crescent wants to talk to you."

Damn, apparently I have an appointment today. I nod faintly and head back for the doors leaving my slippers sitting on the frosted grass. At least this way I'll have and excuse when she asks me why I'm barefoot again.

I'm escorted through safety doors by the other guard, then I make my way to the doctor's office.

"Cloud." Dr. Crescent nods at me when I open her door. "Have a seat."

I like Dr. Crescent. She's not falsely happy like the nurses and she's not a stone cold bastard like the other therapist, Dr. Hojo. She's cold, but it's a clinical cold. She doesn't take it easy on me, but she doesn't treat me like a thing either.

I take the chair across from her desk and stare at her.

"Barefoot again I see," she says drolly. "Where did you loose you're slippers this time?"

"Outside."

"Right. Well..." She opens a file glances at the paper then taps it on the desk. "How long have you been here Cloud?"

I stare at the bookshelf behind her for a minute then shrug. "You tell me."

"Four years and 67 days." Her hands drop the file. "That's a long time."

I shrug again. "It's nothing."

Her lips purse together and she taps her fingers lightly on the file. "When you first came here you were practically catatonic."

I don't respond.

"You spent a good year and a half in solitary confinement."

Silence.

She shakes her head and frowns at the papers again. "Cloud, you used to take my help, you used to like it here. Now you act like this place is a prison. Why?"

I curl my hands into fists on the arms of the chair and try to find an answer, but I know better than to lie to her. "Because... it is."

"You think of this as a prison?" One long sigh escapes her lips. "You've been making progress. Slowly, yes, but it's still progress. You seem to have developed a talent for obeying rules to get what you want and breaking them when you can get away with it."

I stifle a groan and keep staring at the bookshelf.

"Don't think that the little stunt with your slippers this morning went unnoticed. And I know all about your late night workouts."

I can feel my nails digging into the palms of my hands. I've been caught. That means she's probably going to start making me take sedatives before lights out every night.

"Do you acknowledge that Zack is dead?"

Her sudden change of subject throws me off and I blink repeatedly. "Yes."

"Do you understand that what happened was an accident and not your fault?"

"Yes."

She takes off her glasses and rubs her eyes with the back of her hands before replacing them. "Well, it's against my better judgment, but we're releasing you."

Releasing me... they're releasing me?

"But not if you make yourself bleed in my office." She raises an eyebrow pointedly and looks at my hands.

I force them to relax and pat the arms of the chair a couple times. We trade blank looks then she continues.

"It's not a full release, you'll have to come back twice a week for sessions with me and you will be prescribed medication. We'll even be testing to make sure you take it." She picks up her file again and starts to organize the papers inside. "You'll also be under supervision. I've already talked to your mother and for now you'll be living with her, your brother and the Lockhearts. I understand that they've fixed a room for you above the garage. They've discussed it with me fully and have been, I must say, very accommodating to your needs."

I can feel my jaw dropping and quickly bring it back up. I don't think she noticed, but I never can tell with her.

"You may even, after a time and only if I okay it, get a part time job." She closes the file and taps it on her desk again. "I would have preferred to keep you here a little longer, but we're pressed for space and I believe you can do it. This won't be easy, not for you and not for your family. You'll have to work at it and make some concessions."

I blink at her again. I'm not really sure that I'm hearing her right. I'm leaving the institute. I'm going to live with Mom and Den again.

"I have faith in you." She gives me on of her cold little smiles, just a slight quirking up of one side of her mouth. "Your mother and Denzel will be here to pick you up tomorrow morning. I expect you to be up and ready at nine thirty for the paperwork. Now I have another session in five minutes and I need to get ready. You may go back outside if you would like, but please bring your slippers in this time."

I never thought she was getting ready to release me. Never thought I would be getting out of this place legally. I've had a few half-baked escape plans, but nothing that would have worked.

Dr. Crescent clears her throat and stares at me over the top of her glasses. Damn, she asked me to leave and I've just been sitting here staring at her.

I get to my feet and walk out of the door without a second glance at her. I'm getting out of here, I won't be a prisoner any longer. My feet make their way to the doors outside, the guards don't even try to stop me. They just bring me through the safety doors without a word and leave me on the other side.

"Congratulations." Vincent nods his head and comments in his quiet voice as I pass him on my way back to the corner.

I nod and keep walking. My slippers are still sitting where I left them but I don't put them on. Instead I throw off the jacket and sit down on the grass letting the melting frost soak through my pants. My fingers work their way deep into the frozen strands and I feel the cold seep into me. I'm leaving, I'm really leaving. A smile tugs at my lips and I stay there until my feet go numb and my fingers turn blue.

Another one down. Not as long as I usually write but so worth it to me. I have to say even though I'm writing from different perspectives on this one, Cloud is still totally my favorite. I had so much fun writing this chapter that I'm having a hard time with the next one.

Anyway, my usual thanks to my special readers: mom calling, demon egg, ffangelwing and vLuna. I'm glad you guys liked (or at least tolerated) Marlene, and thanks so much for reassuring me that she's not some disturbing patchwork of hated traits.

Yeah, I think that's about it... I've run out of things to say. So please leave me reviews, sometimes they're better than chocolate (but not sex).

Palo (God I love writing crazy Cloud)