Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Urgency of Life ❯ falling 5.0 ( Chapter 5 )

The Urgency of Life

A Seto/Joey fanfic by subaruxkamui4ever

See, now, that last one was pretty sad. That's what I'm shooting for. I guess it can't all be that way. This chapter is going to be kind of scary. Joey's finally going to hit that point of addiction where you body begins to fight back in a last-ditch effort kind of thing. It may be somewhat graphic here. Joey will be both physically and emotionally broken, so he'll say and things you might not like, but bear with him. It's the drugs talkin'!

falling…… . . falling . . . …. faster.

I was sitting at the table, in the room next to Seto's and mine, when it happened. This was the beginning of the final throes of the addiction, physically. Since Seto had been kind enough to actually take on the support of my drug habit, I had been able to get more whenever I needed it, no questions asked. There was no limit to how much I could get. No longer feeling the pressure of `making it last', I began to experiment, testing my limitations. I wanted to know how much was enough, how much was too much, and how much would never be enough. And my tolerance level built rapidly. Meanwhile, Seto and I continued to grow closer, until we were very nearly inseparable. I truly enjoyed his company, and his mere presence brought me a simple pleasure that I have never been able to describe. It wasn't a passionate feeling at all, especially compared to the way I used to feel about him, before I came to live in his home. It had changed into a strange sensation, not so much a feeling, but more of an ability, a new power. I was able to see more of the way things really were, between Seto and I. I could now see that his soul and mine were more than coincidentally similar. It was like finding a person whose fingerprints were the same as yours. However, the both of us only owned small bits and unfinished pieces of the same whole, which could only be created by a unified effort from the two of us, together. He owned the other piece of me. An impressively large piece that, until recently, I hadn't even realized was missing. And all the while we were together, he was trying to get his foot in the door of this otherworld of mine, the only part of me he didn't know by heart. My addiction was never a topic of discussion between us, due to our varying opinions on the situation. More than ever he was determined, in spite of all odds, to someday help me break free of this inevitable trap I had laid for myself. There was nothing I could say to him to convince him otherwise. His faith in me was unshakable, as solid and permanent as the faith I had in him, although he was a thousand times over more deserving to be the subject of anyone's trust.

At the table, which had become the place in the house where I kept everything necessary to keep my habit going, I had been seated for quite some time. I had begun to feel, in the back of my mind, that the drug was beginning to wear out. This was, by far, the single worst drawback of an almost flawless drug. The feelings of excitement and the endless supply of fun were replaced, slowly and deceptively, with a dark emptiness of the mind. A blank but devastating sense of loss and regret, over absolutely nothing. There wasn't any way to escape it, so I always planned the hour of comedown in advance, so that I would be asleep when it struck. However, for some reason, I hadn't thought of it when I had done those lines a few hours ago. I knew, in the back of my mind, that I did need to come down a long time before my usual bedtime, if only just for a few hours, maybe sleep for awhile. I shouldn't have been experiencing a come down at all, though. I glanced at the clock, across the room. It showed that it had been a little over three hours since I had last used. So why was it wearing off? Hadn't I done enough? Regardless of why, the feelings were coming, they were stronger now, more defined, and threatened to become real. I knew I had to do something. I hadn't dealt with the emotional side effects of a comedown in a long time, having trained my body to sleep through them. What I remembered of them made me shudder, to imagine that it was already upon me. And that had been after doing a small amount, when I was inexperienced. If that had been unbearable… I was going to have to do some right now, before I fell any further. I didn't know if I could handle the emotional onslaught that snuck closer to my mind with every passing second, and since Seto would be home very soon, he would want to stay near me, and I just couldn't do that to him. Knowing the way he was, he'd figure out what was wrong and would stay with me anyway, regardless of how I treated him. I wouldn't risk it. People who need drugs in their system say many things they don't mean, and would never dream of saying otherwise. If I said something that hurt him, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself.

I began to separate the lines from the pile, rushing the job. Thinking about coming down had made me paranoid, and I felt an immense amount of pressure in my mind, begging me to hurry. Still, there was only so much I could rush. If it wasn't well cut, it wouldn't help me at all, so I had to take time out to finish the job. Time that I couldn't afford to spare. I hadn't slept for a long time. I knew that, somehow, two days had ran past me in a rush, but I was still as awake and energetic as ever. Until now. As I quickly but carefully cut the tiny rocks apart, my body saw it's chance and tried to give out completely. My hand gained a thousand pounds in half of a second, and I almost dropped my blade in mid-tap. I stopped cutting immediately. If my body was about to rebel, I didn't want to be holding a razor when it did. But what else could I do? I closed my eyes and mentally claimed control over my muscles, demanding that they obey. Unfortunately, it was Seto who excelled at commanding, not I, and my hands begin to tremble defiantly. It was slight at first, but enough to make my delicate task almost impossible to complete. At that same moment, my vision faded in and out of focus, which scared me a little. Experimentally looking around the room, I found that I could see just fine, but if I tried to focus on a small detail, or read words that were farther away, no matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn't quite do it. I put the blade down for a moment and sat back in the chair. Why couldn't I control myself? What could I do to convince my body to obey me? But I had done this to my body, my mind responded. It was trying to save itself from me. I felt a small wave of sadness as that thought went through my mind. My body, the physical representation of my soul, the only vehicle that could carry me through this world, hated me. It had to take extreme measures against me, to save itself from the poison I forced into it constantly. I supposed that I would hate me as well. But still, I demanded that my body work with me, just this once! Now, when it was important, when there was a decent explanation as to why I was feeding foreign chemicals into it.

I picked up the blade once more. "I will finish this," I told myself, trying to make it real. "I need to do this." I cut a smaller amount than before. Maybe if I cut enough for one line at first, I could do the one and then cut one more, do that, until I had better control over my hands, at least. Then I would cut up the rest, however much I needed at that point. Feeling slightly hopeful that I had a winning strategy, I went at it again, with renewed determination. It worked, for a moment. The blade rapidly moved against the tabletop, and the repeating tapping it made reached my ears, working it's way slowly into my subconscience. What a familiar sound. Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap…… The sound that followed me wherever I went, echoing in my wake. It was true, I couldn't think of a sound I heard more often, except maybe the sound of Seto's voice. Thinking about him, I realized that I had come a long way since that day, so long ago now. The day he kidnapped me, so to speak. It wasn't that far from the truth. I had just happened to be a willing victim. How many endless days and nights had I spent before that day, doing exactly what I was doing at this very moment, thinking about him, with that persistent tapping the constant background to my every thought? He and I had come so far since that day, it was almost unbelievable. But I, myself, what had changed about me? The moment was almost frozen in time, my hand stopped moving, and the tapping ceased. I gazed at nothing, realization washing over my unstable mind. I was never going to change. This moment I was trapped in was an exact match to the same moment, one year ago. The surroundings and the people were different, but I hadn't moved an inch. I was even hunched over in the same position, using the same straw, and the same CD I had used in days now far gone, when my life was so much worse. Time passed by me almost spitefully, and a few days earlier school had let out for the year. I realized then that I had been stolen away by Seto well over four months ago, and just hadn't seen the time leave us behind. Now I lived in what seemed like a dream, where everything I could conceivably want or need was immediately handed to me, by the only person I had ever truly wanted for my own. It was unreal. And it seemed that I hadn't even noticed it. I wondered if Seto knew how much I loved being alive, because of him. And how much I loved and needed him. I never showed him. I tried, but I had nothing to offer him. He never asked for anything, and why would he? He had never wanted for a thing, why would he be any different just because I was leeching off of him?

I was coming down, but I couldn't see it. The sadness attaches itself to your own feelings, twisting and fraying them until they weren't reasonable or explainable, but just as devastatingly sad. What I was thinking was how I really felt, but only to a certain degree. I couldn't see that, at the time. I couldn't see anything past my unbearable heartache. I felt incredibly dizzy, and my body felt like it weighed more than it was capable of weighing. I should have gone and laid down immediately, but the thought didn't even cross my mind. My thoughts were concentrated solely on Seto.

I must be an incredible burden to his life. I was certainly a huge burden to my own life. Why was I even still alive? When I had first began to do this drug, I had thought it would be great fun, and I also knew that it was a potent enough poison to kill me, slowly of course, but much faster than if I wasn't doing anything at all. At the time, I thought that feeling the way I did for Seto was plenty for me to have accomplished, and since he would never return my feelings, there was really no point in my hanging around, wasting space. He was the only reason I got out of bed, went to school, ate, was functional. Life with him at distance, however fulfilling, was a pointless affair, and only made me feel, more than ever, that I had no business here. I had always been a weak willed person, and it was a waste of time to believe that I had it in me to off myself efficiently. However, it was feasible that I could nurture an addiction, and let it consume me on its own. I could do that. So that had been the plan, and it was flawless in both its execution and its effectiveness. It hadn't taken long at all before my body responded to the chemicals, and called out for more. All the pieces fell into place like clockwork, with no setbacks, and no one to stand in my way. But now that life seemed like no more than a dream, a terrible nightmare that I had woken up from four months ago, only to find that I truly belonged here. It was the most coveted and rare `happy ending', where all wishes, no matter how impossible, were granted to the fullest. I had everything, because he was all that I ever wanted. So why was I still killing myself? And why hadn't I asked myself this question sooner?

The answer was simple. My life had been reduced to a constantly foggy drug induced stupor. The reason I had started doing the drugs was not the same reason I did them today. But I should stop now. And stop hurting myself, and Seto. With that thought, I stood up triumphantly, truly believing I had solved the problem, and was done with it. But I had forgotten, while I sat in a daze, that my body was not functioning correctly. The drive that had propelled me forward was not enough to help me catch my balance, and I toppled backwards, away from the table, and landed on my back, my face toward the ceiling above.

Without thinking, I burst into tears. I felt so weak. I couldn't even stand up by myself. No wonder Seto felt like he had to do everything for me. He really did. I was pathetic, and I knew it. I wasn't strong enough to stop doing the drug. It was really ironic, when I thought about it objectively. I was doing drugs to kill myself, because I was in love with someone who didn't love me back. But he did now. And why? Because I was doing the drugs. The very thing that was supposed to take him away from me drew him in like a magnet. It was almost ridiculous, the extent of my ill fortune. My tears only came faster the longer I thought about it, and I rolled to my side, shaking uncontrollable with my despair. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard a reasonable voice break through momentarily, reminding me that I was coming down, and not to do anything regrettable. It was unfortunate that it took a severe physical withdrawal to see what I had come to realize, because everything I felt in this state was blown out of proportion, and I couldn't see where my own feelings ended and the emotional effects began. It was sheer agony, and it only made me cry harder. Why hadn't I killed myself faster, before all of this happened? Seto, at least, could have been spared the trouble and pain I had caused him. I couldn't understand why he had kept me near him for this long, and so often! He was always around, talking to me, learning things about me, understanding me more every day, until he knew more me than even I cared to know. I shouldn't be here. Perhaps he was like me, just a glutton for punishment. Maybe he felt guilty for the way he had treated me, before he took me to live with him. Oh god! Maybe he felt responsible for my addiction, thinking he had driven me to do them in the first place. It wasn't at all true.

Seto, the real Seto, who at that very moment was preparing to return home from work, felt no such thing, but my mind, nearly broken by days without sleep and a year of physical and mental torture, was very nearly deranged. The drug that I used severely overworked the part of the mind which allows you to be happy. Now it wasn't working at all, having been stimulated artificially for far too long. It needed to heal, as did many other areas of my body. All of the abuse, repeated daily for a long period of time, wore away parts of my body and mind, but I couldn't feel the true extent of the damage until at that moment, when I could no longer hide behind the artificial influence I had grown dependent on. In turn, I would do this to Seto as well. I had to do something, and I had to do it now, while I still felt this way. Although I was not even remotely myself, I knew that in a strange way, I was still drugged, only this time I was under the influence of the absence of any influence at all. And as soon as I woke up the next day, the first thing I would do would be to feed the chemical I craved right back into my system, scattering the remains of any sadness I had to the wind. It was nearly impossible to be sad on that drug. Perhaps that was why I had liked it, still liked it to this day, perhaps even more than ever. And I would do it as soon as possible. I had to act quickly.

Rolling over so I lay on my stomach, I used my arms to push myself off the ground, as far as I could. Getting to my knees and keeping my palms on the ground, I crawled across the floor, stumbling and catching my hands on things clumsily. My body was ready to give up, and I felt intensely faint, but I retained my consciencness through sheer will, for Seto. I would do anything for him. Even if I had to drive him away, I would do just that, if I knew he would be happier. Somehow I found the bathroom, the one that joined this room to ours, and sat up on my knees, fumbling with the handle until the door opened. I fell into the door, tumbling inside. I used a lot of energy I didn't have to get this far, and this time my stomach responded. A wave of nausea descended quickly, and I almost didn't have enough time to push myself over to the toilet. Nearly missing it completely, I draped myself over the seat, my face hanging over the edge. I was relieved that I had been able to get that far in time, but my relief lasted about two seconds before my stomach involuntarily contracted, and I retched into the toilet. I hadn't eaten very well recently, because Seto had been working a lot more, while school was out for the summer. Without him there to make me eat, I didn't eat, and now I wished I had, because throwing up nothing was horribly painful. My stomach forced itself to contract over and over, but there wasn't anything in it to throw up, still it kept on, evidently trying to rid itself of the substance in every way it could. There was so much unused acid in my stomach that it must have been making me sick, and it filled my mouth with a terrible taste. It was like a terrible nightmare, only it was worse than a nightmare, because it wasn't a nightmare at all. It was real, and it was awful. After a few minutes, my stomach slowly understood that the offending chemical was not going to be expelled this way, and the nausea dissipated. Feeling that I was through with the toilet, I pulled the handle, flushing away absolutely nothing. I don't even know why I bothered.

I pulled myself up by grabbing the edge of the bathroom counter, and put the lid over the toilet. Guiding myself with my grip on the counter, I sat on the toilet lid, faced towards the mirror, which was a serious mistake, in my present state of mind. The lack of sleep and overuse I had subjected myself to affected my mind as well as my body. My mind couldn't physically try to eject the intruding substance like my body could, but it lashed out in it's own way, which was far more dangerous than anything my body could do. My weakened emotional state and almost complete loss of physical control drained my sense of reality, leaving me in a kind of distant fog, and my mind didn't know how to respond. My eyes played tricks on me, strained from lack of rest, and completely lost the ability the focus. I stared into the mirror, unable to see what I was looking at very well. Was that me? Surprised, I peered closer, trying to make out the features of the face before me. After several moments, I concluded that it was indeed my own reflection, and I stared at it wistfully. I was pretty sure I looked awful. I must look like this all the time, I thought, appalled at the thought. I looked like a drug addict. I was hideous. No wonder I hadn't been able to catch Seto's eye on my own. I had tried up until now to push the idea to the back of my head, but there wasn't anything to hide behind now. Seto was intense to look at. He certainly wasn't handsome, but he wasn't pretty either. He was lost somewhere between the two, not favoring masculine nor feminine features, instead embodying both. The most attractive features from both sexes were perfectly balanced into a single person, and the end result was breathtaking. And impossible to tear my eyes from. Here, in the bathroom, I couldn't believe that the person I saw before me was the chosen one, the object of Seto's returned affection. It was laughable, really, and I did laugh, right in my own face. I laughed at my reflection, as if it was the one who dared to think that he somehow belonged here with Seto, and not me at all. My laughter grew louder and I closed my eyes, how ridiculous of him to think that Seto would be involved with him. With the presence of my reflection, I was able to see myself as though it were really someone else in the mirror, and my already loosely based grip on reality took the fragmented thoughts and ran with them.

Blinking rapidly at the image, I shook my head, hoping to shake something inside it loose so I could see more clearly. It failed, of course, and I threw both of my fists at the mirror in frustration at my own weakness. As soon as my hands made contact with the mirror, I felt a sharp pain, somewhere in my body, but I couldn't clearly distinguish where the pain originated. I was hopelessly lost within myself. Lowering my hands, I saw a bright color that I hadn't noticed earlier. Bringing my left hand close to my face, I peered at it for a moment while my mind tried to process the information. There was red…it was running down my hand, trickling slowly down my arm. Somewhere in my head, a reflex screamed, signaling that this was something I didn't want to happen. I was bleeding, I realized, and stared at my hand, wondering what had happened. Not having any idea of how to react, I opened my fist, and found the source of the blood. I hadn't ever set the razor blade down, and had carried it around with me through the whole ordeal. When I had balled up my fist and hit the mirror, the force of the impact drove the blade into my palm. Seeing the wound made the connection in my mind, and it began to hurt immediately. Cringing in pain, I took the blade in my other hand. It had a lot of blood on it, and the vision caught my eye, and I gazed at it for a moment. Too bad I couldn't kill myself, I could just end it all now. But I could do something, couldn't I? Perhaps I couldn't kill myself, but maybe I could at least save one of us…. Something had to be wrong with Seto. Surely he saw that he deserved so much better that me, both emotionally and physically. He can't find me in any way visually appealing, especially when seen anywhere near Seto himself. I could see in that mirror right in front of me, and I could see what Joey looked like from here. It just didn't make sense. People who looked like Seto didn't have to settle for anything, so was it possible that he just didn't understand how beautiful he was? He couldn't have a clue, if he was truly able to devote himself to this boy. Well, we could fix that. If I could show Seto how Joey looked on the inside, then maybe he wouldn't want to be with him anymore. Maybe he'd leave Joey, and meet some other boy, another beautiful one, who wasn't addicted to anything, and didn't need to be taken care of. Then, by chasing Seto away, Joey would be the one who was ultimately responsible for Seto's happiness. I smiled drunkenly at Joey, who grinned right back. Our plan would be a success. I would just have to make Joey as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside.

I still had the blade in my good hand, and looking back into the mirror, I lifted it to my face. My hand trembled constantly, and I still couldn't focus on anything, so this was going to be more difficult that I had thought. Well, it wasn't like I needed to see that badly. Feeling my way around, I decided to start small, just to see how much it would hurt. I'd never done anything remotely like this before, but then again, I'd never been this delirious before, either. I wondered briefly if I would remember any of this after I allowed myself to pass out. The edge of the blade finally found my cheek, and I felt a small pressure, accompanied by a sharp sensation, although my awareness of both feelings were severely dulled. I stood there, with the blade tip on my cheek, for a long while, waiting for my hand to move on it's own. It didn't happen, and I realized that I was scared, somewhere inside me. Joey didn't want to go through with it. Maybe he wasn't willing to give Seto to someone else after all. Well, too bad. I spoke directly to the reflection. It was time I took control of myself, even if I had to do it one broken piece at a time.

"You don't get to decide anything, Joey," I mumbled, smiling softly at him. My words were slurred and I stumbled over each one. I'm sure that I was the only one who could understand what I was saying.

"I'm finally going to do something for someone else, and I don't care for anyone but Seto. Not you, not me, no one else matters. So I'm going to set him free. He doesn't deserve to be burdened with your problems. I'm going to save him from you. You, and your miserable existence." I remember being surprised at what I was saying, the part of me that could understand. It was as if I was two people at once, both Joey and the reflection of him, and it was terrifying and thrilling, together in the same moment. Then, I was once again looking at the reflection, and without hesitation, firmly executed the first stroke, fueled by my hatred for the Joey that looked back at me from the glass, pathetically cowering under my glare. That Joey was weak and unhappy, but refused to lift a finger to help himself. That Joey wanted to live his life dependent on Seto, with no qualms about taking another person down along with him, even someone as beautiful and undeserving as Seto himself. That Joey was completely deserving of this, even if there was no ulterior motive. And as I dragged the blade down through his face, that Joey screamed in anguish, and the sound sent waves of pleasure down my spine. I was happy to do this to him, he deserved to suffer for the sake of someone else. I hated him. Looking to see what he would do, he simply stared into my eyes. There was a long, thin gash down the side of his face. The blade was so small and thin, you wouldn't be able to see the cut at all, if it hadn't been bleeding. But it was, it bled a lot, and the blood ran down and dripped off my chin every so often. I couldn't move, frozen where I sat, eyes locked to his face that looked out at me from the glass. My time was up, I realized. My hand lost its strength, and the blade fell from my grasp, making a small clink when it struck the tiled floor. My vision faded, then came back momentarily with full force, lasting only a few seconds. It was enough time to see the extent of the damage I had done to myself. The sight of blood made me panic, and the other Joey was suddenly nowhere to be seen. I was alone, and I realized that I had been the entire time. The other Joey was lost within me, and the injury I had meant to inflict on him was inevitably inflicted on me as well. I would never be free of him. I lost myself in my misery, I had thrown the truth harshly into my own face, and I continued to bleed from Joey's punishment.

I was completely at the mercy of my body, which began to shut down moments later. The tears came finally, I had been waiting for them. I wanted Seto. I needed him. I couldn't leave, I couldn't make him leave, I couldn't do a thing. I didn't understand why he returned my feelings, but I was so very glad for it. I didn't know what was going on. Everything had been getting slowly darker ever since the tears had started, and I gripped the counter next to me for dear life. I cried as hard as I could, trying to force the sadness out, never to return. It was quick to return, as quick as it was to escape through my cries, replenished as though I had accomplished nothing, which was basically the truth. I wanted to run, to turn away from the mirror, I couldn't stand to stare at my weaknesses any longer. I made myself sick.

"Stop it!" I cried, closing my eyes and angrily turning my head away from the mirror. My reflection was beginning to look like it had before, separating itself from me, and I wouldn't fall for it again. "Stop stop it, stop! STOP" I could feel my own eyes on the back of my head, it was unnerving, it was insane, and it wouldn't stop. "Stop, please, stop it, stop, stop!" I screamed and screamed, the words were far from coherent, and in seconds I gave up on words altogether, and was simply screaming, terrified and angry, desperate and empty. My hands were clutching wildly at my face, pulling on my hair, I had to shake the feeling of…I wasn't even sure anymore. I couldn't see anything at all, my eyes were shut tightly, and tears ran from their sides, mixing with the blood on one side of my face, running all the way down the other. And still, I was screaming at the top of my lungs, finding that I couldn't stop. I was lost and alone, I couldn't get away even if I wanted to. Suddenly, a pair of arms came out of darkness, and took hold of my hands, gently pulling them away from my hair. My eyes were still closed, they were swollen and hurt so much that I couldn't reopen them. The sudden contact shocked me and for a few moments I struggled defensively and directed my screams at the intruder. Unfazed by my retaliation, the hands held fast to mine, being as careful as possible, and then released them, only to reach up and place them on my shoulders, pulling me forward, shaking me slightly as though they wanted me to wake up from a deep sleep. The motion shook my grip from the counter, and without the support, I went foreword, not caring whether I fell or not. Before I could hit the ground, my fall was stopped in its tracks, and I felt a swift upward motion immediately following what should have been the impact. My thoughts swam slowly in my head, but I was too exhausted to try to catch them. I didn't care what was happening to my body. Somewhere in my mind, I knew that I wasn't alone anymore, someone had taken me from where I had been found. Then a softness spread itself beneath me, and I was placed on my bed, our bed. Wait…

"Seto!" Please, let it be him. I needed to see him so badly! I was able to lift my eyelids just a bit and I rolled my eyes back and forth rapidly, searching. He was right there, lying alongside me, only he remained somewhat upright, leaning his elbow into the bed to hold himself up. His other arm was still under me, he must have left it from when he carried me in here, not wanting to disturb me more than he had to. When I opened my eyes to find him, he leaned over to me, and said nothing, looking me over fully with wide eyes. Surveying the damage. I self-consciously lifted a hand to cover my face, but it was obviously too late. "I'm sorry", I said, feeling a resurgence of tears. "I don't really know what's happening right now." My words were hard to control, but I forced my lips to work, and I think he understood. Without breaking our gaze, he lifted both of his arms to himself and leaned back into the pillows. One of his hands came up to the one I had on my face, and took the hand away, exposing what I had done. He didn't say a word, instead he pulled my arm over his head, forcing me to follow until I lay completely on top of him, releasing my hand only then. Both of his arms came up around me possessively, and his grip on me was tight, as if someone was threatening to steal me away at that very moment. But we were alone, and now that he was here, some of my sanity had returned. It didn't matter, because the darkness claimed me seconds later, and once again, I was falling… .

AN: Heh. I really liked this chapter. I had the best time writing it. I always enjoy writing about this angsty crap, and oh man this is like, the angstiest angst ever in the angsty history of angst. I think I'll have the next chapter be more of the same, I'm really enjoying this (did I mention that?). This was the part of the story I wanted to get to. (it's super-long). I go back now, they may think I'm not coming back…(in reference to sanity)