Spring was in the air - Violet swore she could smell it, even through the exhaust fumes, the smell of cigarette smoke and trash that was continually drifting in the air. This was an area almost entirely devoid of natural beauty - but Violet found herself walking through it again. She wasn't sure if it was because she was beginning to like this end of town, or what.
She decided to stick with, 'or what'.

She had on her coat - left wide open, because it wasn't cold enough anymore to bundle up in it. Underneath was a long-sleeved shirt, covered by a faded-black t-shirt. She had on her usual jeans and sneakers, as well. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, the purple streak in it bright and newly redone.

Violet's gaze shifted lazily from side to side as she walked down the street. Not much to see that she hadn't seen before.

Keye wasn't something she hadn't seen before, either. It would be a safe bet to say that she hadn't seen him like this before, though. He was a little ahead of her, leaning on a damp brick wall like he didn't have a choice. His white trench was wrapped tightly around his thin frame, but his legs and feet were bare.
And bloody.
Not to mention the rest of him. In fact, the coat itself was beginning to take on a distinct darkish-red color. Keye was breathing harshly, biting down on his tongue to make the world stop swaying and greying.
He wasn't sure, anymore, where he was going. Maybe it was a phone booth: there was a number on his arm. Violet was nice. But...no. No, he didn't feel like talking. Maybe he was headed to Dr. Barclay's place? But it was awfully far, and Keye couldn't remember which direction, exactly.
Well, wherever he was going, it was time to start getting there again. He forced himself to take his full weight back onto his feet, and took a few staggering steps forward...and fell.

The girl hadn't noticed Keye until she saw him fall. The figure was familiar - she thought it strange that whoever it was was standing so motionlessly, in such an unusual place. When she saw him fall, her pace sped to a light run. It was only when she was a few feet away that she finally recognized him. "Keye?"
Violet crouched down next to him, her eyes flicking nervously over the blood that was, well - everywhere. What'd he do to himself this time, she wondered. It looked bad. God, ... I hope it looks worse than it actually is, she thought worriedly. "...Keye...? What happened to you?"

He struggled to his knees and found that he could go no further. He stayed there, staring up at Violet. His shades were long gone, so his one intensely blank eye looked directly into hers. He blinked, trying to keep her in focus. He couldn't pass out, he had to get where he was going...
His lips parted, but he didn't say a word.
One shaking hand was twisted in his coat, desperate to keep his aching body covered.

Violet waited for an answer, but none came. This was strange. A little. And what about his shades, where had they gone? He'd been so insistent about keeping them on before. But then, this wasn't Keye in his normal state. That much was obvious. He was a complete and total mess. She wasn't as alarmed as she should be, maybe because by now, she was used to seeing him beaten up.

She frowned slightly. "Can you stand- wait, no, better not. You look like you could use a doctor..." she said. Keye doesn't like doctors, she remembered. "Or - home. D'you want to go home, Keye?... D'you understand? Home?"

He felt sick.
The girl was saying things. He saw them, floating towards him like bubbles, and he lifted his hands to catch them, but they popped when they brushed his fingers.
Except for one. Outside his mind, in the physical world, an illusion grew in his cupped hands, of a transparent silver-purple bubble. The word 'home' wasn't inside of it, but that was what it meant.
Home.
Keye nodded.

"Okay. Home it is," Violet smiled faintly, relieved to have gotten an answer out of him. Something was really wrong, though... besides the blood, besides the missing shades. This wasn't like him at all. It wasn't like his demon side, either, as far as she could tell.
She was just beginning to be aware that he was missing his shoes. And also, possibly, his pants. Violet wondered vaguely where those were.


One taxi ride later (Violet had an excellent memory for things like e-mail, addresses, and street names) they found themselves at Keye's apartment building. At the bottom of the twelve fucking flights of stairs to Keye's apartment. Oh, hell. This was just wonderful.

Keye smiled vaguely at her, but his eye made it seem like he wasn't smiling at all. It was still completely emotionless.
His body swayed with exhaustion, but he started to climb...like a machine. He couldn't feel pain; in fact, the overwhelming dizziness was bewildering him.
He stumbled several times on the climb, fell once or twice...in fact, on the ninth flight, he didn't get up for a long time. He just lay still, his face pressed into the cold, grimy floor.
But before Violet could have helped him, he stood and clung to the banister, and struggled up three more flights.
And, finally, he was home. This was apparently good enough for him, because he collapsed just inside the door.

Violet was amazed that he'd made it all the way. But he couldn't stop now. She wouldn't let him just lie there on the floor, like a dog hit by a truck, left to die by the roadside. "Whoa -... not yet, Keye... Just a little further, alright?" she coaxed, taking his arm and tugging it over her shoulders, trying to get him to stand. "Just over to the couch, then you can stop. C'mon, it's not far."

What's happened to you, she thought worriedly, for the umpteenth time.

He let out a little moan of pain and exhaustion, but still didn't speak.
No words. No more. Ever.
Trying to keep any sound that might escape shut in, he struggled back to his feet. He leaned heavily on Violet, his single eye half-shut. Only white was visible; it must have been rolled back.
Those few feet seemed like an eternity, but they made it. Keye fell onto the couch and let out a long, shuddering breath.

"Good. That's great, Keye," she sighed in relief. That would have to do. She found an old blanket lying nearby, and draped it loosely over him. For a moment Violet just stood and looked at him, unsure of what she was supposed to do now. Call an ambulance?... Keye would probably never forgive her for that. She didn't think she could leave him to doctors - strangers - right now, anyway.
The thought of doctors brought back the realization that Keye was bleeding. He was hurt. But how badly? Violet leaned over Keye and began trying to pull open his coat, to get a better look.

Finally, something, some emotion flickered to life on his face. It was fear, and he drew away, throwing his hands up to cover his face.
Under the coat, he was completely naked and covered in cuts. None of them were very deep, but there were a lot of them.
His shoulders twitched as he realized. With a short cry, he snatched his coat closed again.
In what was perhaps the most normal behavior he'd exhibited, he turned very, very red.
This was because, somewhere very far away, the normal, everyday Keye was thinking Violet just saw me naked.

Violet mimicked him in one thing - blushing fiercely. Okay. She wished she'd known beforehand that he wasn't wearing anything under the coat. It was too late now. Well... at least now she knew for sure his pants had gone missing.
As well as that unexpected view, she'd had a brief look at the cuts. They didn't look like accidents, that was for sure.

"It's okay," she said, partly for her benefit as well as for his. And reminding herself that now wasn't really the time to get embarrassed. That could wait a little longer. Violet pulled the blanket up to his waist, tucking it around him. "Will you let me see those cuts? I want to see how bad they are."

And then she added, not knowing quite why,"I promise. I won't hurt you."

Slowly, he nodded, shrugging the coat off his shoulders. He bent forward so that she could see the ones on his back as well.
He had to remind himself, though:
She won't hurt me. She promised.

"Holy..." Violet murmured, eyes wide. Well, they didn't look life-threatening at least, though it had looked like he was bleeding to death. "Keye,..."
Speechless. She hoped these weren't self-inflicted. But how could they be? He wouldn't do that to himself. Would he? No,... she didn't think he would, somehow. Her fingertips brushed his shoulder. "Hang on a second, I'll be right back."

Violet disappeared into the bathroom, and rummaged around for anything resembling a first-aid kit. Nope. No luck. But she did find a towel,... and a plastic cup. She filled it with tapwater. Returning to the couch, she set the cup on the floor, and wet a corner of the towel in it. "D'you mind?" she asked meekly, holding it up to show him. "Just going to clean you up a bit, alright? It might sting a little, but that's all." Don't say no. I just want to help... she thought.

He might do something like that to himself, actually. But he wouldn't strip naked and do it away from home.

He seemed to consider for a moment, not that he was thinking clearly enough to do much considering. Finally, he nodded, because saying yes beat fighting the dizziness long enough to think of reasons to say no. He even ventured a slight smile, to thank her for helping him...because he wasn't going to actually say 'thank you.'
Or anything else.
Ever.

She seemed to wilt with relief. The previous non-responsiveness had really scared her. Violet brought the wet cloth to the cuts, beginning on his front, and working her way down before starting on the ones on his back. A slight, thoughtful frown creased her brow as she swabbed away the blood. "...Hope I'm not hurting you. Let me know if I am."

"...How did this happen?" she asked, thinking out loud as she dabbed at one of those thin red lines, midway down his back. He hadn't spoken yet,... but she really hadn't noticed, other than to remark that it was a bit strange.

He flinched slightly, as the cuts did sting, but he didn't pull away.
Something changed, though, when she asked what had happened. He tensed all over, and began to push her hands away.
His teeth were in his lower lip, and it was bleeding.
Won't tell. Can't say.

"Keye? What is it? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry," Violet took his hand - the one not attached to the broken arm - in both of her own, and squeezed gently. Why's he pushing me away all of a sudden? she wondered, frowning. If it was anyone else, she might have already guessed what had happened, by now. But with Keye... well, it didn't occur to her to even think of it. "What's the matter? I just asked what happened... Can't you tell me?"

He shook his head.
No, you didn't hurt me. But I can't tell you.
I can't tell her, can I? She'd hate me.
Yes. Yes, Keye. She'd hate you.
It was easy going for the demon: all it had to do was agree with Keye and it could have all the negative emotions it wanted.

Keye squeezed her hand in return, then let go, relaxing slightly. He was too tired to stay tense very long anyway.

Once he let go of her hand, Violet went back to cleaning the cuts. Just a few more to go. "Why can't you tell me?" she asked, trying hard not to sound like she was pressuring him. "You've told me other things that weren't so nice. What makes this a secret?"

A shrug. It made his shoulder blades stand out. He was too thin, really.
It's not this, particularly. I'm just not going to say anything anymore.
He pressed his lips close together, and his good eye filled with tears.
He would have told her, if he thought it would do any good. It wouldn't. He'd said 'no' and it hadn't mattered. If he spoke again, no one would believe him. Keye Tomlinson, the tough street kid from New York, raped by a boy half his size and perhaps four or five years younger?
Ridiculous.

She dropped the towel on the floor, having finished with it. It was an unpretty red-brown, now. "This is like the, 'can't keep eye contact' thing, isn't it," Violet said, her tone lightly teasing. It was no time for jokes, she knew, but she was trying to lighten the mood a little. Her gaze drifted to his face. He didn't have his sunglasses on, she remembered, and wondered if that comment had been a little too mean. There were tears in his eye.

She sighed. "Forget that I said that. But you're gonna tell me eventually, you know. Okay? It doesn't have to be right now, but I want to know. If somebody's hurt you, or if, if you've hurt you, I want to know about it. You can't keep it all to yourself."

I can, too. I can keep it all to myself. Forever.
But it was too much. She was being too nice, and he was afraid that his unresponsiveness would drive her away. He didn't want to lose that kindness. His entire being ached for it.
But he couldn't say a word, so he grabbed her wrist, holding on only very lightly.
Don't go, please.
His head dropped forward, and a tiny sound escaped him. It took a moment for it to become obvious that he was crying, as he was being so quiet.

Violet looked at him pityingly for a moment. She was going to tell him it's okay, don't cry. But he was plainly not okay. And he could cry if he needed to. That was alright. She gave a soft sigh. She wanted to make him feel better.

"May I hug you?" Violet asked, after a long moment. Completely serious. It was the way she was brought up. You had to ask before you did something like that.

He nodded, not meeting her eyes. After all, Keye-the-Tough-Street-Kid-from-New-York was still in there somewhere, and he was rather embarrassed.
But he could use a hug right now. Badly.

She hesitated for a brief moment. Then she wrapped her arms around him (gods, he was tall. And skinny), trying not to be rough or anything. Actually, she was quite gentle. She didn't want to start the bleeding again, when it had already mostly stopped. "...How's that? 'S that alright?" she asked quietly, holding tight but not too tight.

He leaned into her and sobbed with his whole voice...his whole body.
And when he was done, he'd apparently tired himself out, because he stayed there with his head on her shoulder, his breathing soft and regular.

Violet was a little surprised by the outburst, but felt it was about time he got it out. Poor thing, she thought, unconsciously rubbing his back. She didn't intend to move until he did. What's happened to you...?

"You gonna be okay, you think?" she asked softly.

He stirred slightly, blinking.
"Mmmm."
He'd almost forgotten himself. Almost said something. He hunched his shoulders and shook his head.
No, but then I wasn't to begin with.

She didn't reply to that, other than to hug a little tighter for a few moments. That was a stupid question to ask. But,... well, at least he'd admitted it this time. That was a step in the right direction. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked. The question wasn't said in a hopeless tone. She honestly wanted to know if there was anything she could be doing that would help.

He shook his head.
Then he stopped and nodded.
No, there isn't anything. But I feel sick, and I hurt all over, and I'm dead tired, but I'm scared, so if you could just stay here with me for a little while...?
He didn't say any of that, but he tried to make it clear by...well, not moving.

"...Okay," Violet said. He hadn't tried to gesture to anything, or said what he wanted, so, what she was doing right now? Just sitting here with him. That was it? Alright. She could do that. Even if she had to stay all night. So what if she had class in the morning.

He actually smiled. His breathing evened out, and his body finally relaxed completely.
So did his mind.
Not even his self-imposed muteness could keep out the nightmares.
Still slumped in a rather uncomfortable position (for both, I'm sure) on Violet's shoulder, he twitched. Moaned. One hand jerked, and he cried out in a way that he hadn't when this had actually happened. The words he spoke were the same, though; it could have been a tape recording.
"No. No, I don't want to."

"Hn?" Violet blinked a few times, not realizing that he was asleep. "Don't want to what, Keye?"

He's talking now? He changed his mind?

He'd said that in the actual situation...twice, in fact. But there were a lot of things he hadn't said, while he was hidden in the back of his mind. He'd woven them into a chain of flowers to hang around his neck.
The back of his mind is a lot closer to the surface when he's asleep.
"...go home. Lemme go home. Please. No."
His face twisted, distress evident there.
Does anyone remember the bit about all that screaming coming out later? Later is now. Poor Violet.
"No, no, no, no, no!"
And he shrieked like he was being murdered.

The next time he spoke is when she realized he was asleep. Like that other time, where he nearly drowned. He's seeing, experiencing things that she has no clue about. When he started screaming, her first instinct was to put her hands over her ears, maybe run away. It was horrible. Someone was hurting him.

This's gotta have something to do with those cuts, she realized, What'd they do to hurt him so much? The cuts weren't that bad, not that they don't look like they hurt...but, this screaming...

Instead of putting her hands over her ears, she hugged him tighter. "C'mon,... wake up..."

He woke with a gasp. He wasn't sure where he was. All he knew was that he was pressed close against someone, and he didn't like it. With another bloodcurdling yell, he pulled away from her, nearly tumbling off the couch.
Then he realized who that was, and were he was. He shut his mouth, and his jaws clenched. No more talking.

She stared at him for a few moments. Then, Violet spoke shakily "Keye,... what was that all about?... You were..., you were screaming in your sleep. What happened?" She blinked a couple of times, looking shocked and worried. "Why were you screaming?"

He shook his head rapidly, his eye darting as if looking for a way to escape.
Don't want to talk about it.