Chapter Warnings: Nightmares, vomiting, implied/referenced sexual abuse, swearing

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Lotus's sockets shot open as phantom pain shot through his body. He laid on the bed, trying to dispel the face of his worst nightmares from his mind as gasping breaths and rattling filled the otherwise silent room... then he shifted and another sensation hit him that sent him diving out of the covers, past the bedroom door, and into the bathroom.

He barely got the lid to the toilet up before everything came up, the combination of roiling magic and last night's dinner burning relentlessly on its way up and reminding him why he was there in the first place, renewing his need to gag in a vicious cycle. Tears burned in his sockets and down his cheeks to join the horrendous contents of the bowl while he clung to the sides in an effort to somehow ground himself. Even after he had expelled everything he could, his body wouldn't let him stop, forcing him into painful dry heaves that constricted his ribcage with each spasm. After what felt like hours, but was likely only a few minutes, his knees gave out and he slumped to the floor, resting his chin on the rim as he tried to cough and spit out the acidic remnants clinging to the back of his throat around shuddering breaths.

"Shit, what happened to you?"

"S'nothing...," Lotus croaked, lifting his skull slightly to wipe the tears and grime from his face before reaching over to flush the noxious contents away; two weeks was nowhere near enough time to share something so personal... if he ever planned on sharing at all. He slowly repositioned himself, leaning back against the nearby wall to try and calm his breathing while holding his arms in an attempt to make the shaking stop.

"Looks a lot like something," Rurik pointed out.

Lotus didn't want to deal with this. Putting his hand on his knee, he used it to force himself into a standing position to stagger back to the bedroom, "Go away, Rurik."

The ghost followed him into the bedroom, their voice sounding smug, "Was the food you made bad after all?"

"Leave me alone," the skeleton's voice grew louder. His nerves felt like they were being rubbed raw and an uncomfortable, slimy feeling crawled across his bones as he retrieved the still-damp towel from last night. He desperately needed a shower now.

"Why are you grabbing your dirty towel?" Rurik questioned, popping up in front of the skeleton, "Didn't you use it last night?"

"It's none of your business, now leave me alone or I'll make you leave me alone!" Lotus yelled, not bothering to wait for their reaction to get into the privacy of the bathroom faster. His throat stung and he faintly registered the sound of someone banging on the ceiling somewhere above him, yelling at him to keep it down, but everything was drowned out by the urgent need to be clean again.

Tossing the towel onto the sink and throwing the shower on to the highest heat setting, he tore his clothes off while pointedly ignoring the embarrassing glow surrounding his pelvis and lept into the scalding heat; it felt like red-hot needles were piercing him, but the pain allowed him to focus on his task. Grabbing the washcloth, he began scrubbing vigorously to rid himself of the phantom touches from his nightmare; to wash away the shame that came with giving in. He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, but the sickening sensation wouldn't leave him.

Throwing down the washcloth in frustration, he fell into a crouch under the burning spray as angry tears poured down his face and mingled with the water. Why?! Why did he have to remember their disgusting face? Why did he have to remember their repulsive touch? Why the hell did he become aroused?! 

He wanted to forget that bastard more than anything, but they continued to torment him! He hated it! He hated them! He swore never again! He was supposed to be free! What the hell was wrong with him?!

Lotus hung his skull in defeat as silent sobs tore at his damaged throat; he was determined to at least maintain that semblance of control. No one could know how weak he was; how broken he was... how beyond redemption he was.

"Lotus?"

The reaper jumped at the voice, clenching his teeth to prevent any errant noises from escaping. After a handful of slow breaths to calm himself, he asked, "What?"

"You've been in here for over an hour..." Rurik sounded... worried? That couldn't be right... wait, an hour?

No longer distracted by his torrential thoughts, he now felt the icy cold water against his bones. Had he really been in the shower that long?

"Lotus? You-"

"I'm getting out, go away," the reaper interrupted, shifting to turn the water off and shivering as the chilled air hit him. Snatching up the washcloth and scrubbing at his face to remove the last vestiges of his moment of weakness, he popped his skull out of the curtain and looked around; Rurik wasn't anywhere to be seen. Creeping out onto the cold tiles of the bathroom, he wrapped himself in the damp towel and glared down at his dirtied clothes; he didn't even want to look at them, much less touch them, so putting them on was out of the question. He lamented his lack of foresight in bringing another change of clothing, but all he could do now was suck it up and go get a new set.

Cracking open the bathroom door and checking that the coast was clear, the skeleton scuttled down the hallway and into the bedroom. Closing the door and pulling out the first set of pajamas within reach, he felt slightly better once he was no longer exposed despite still feeling the effects of his cold shower. The empty bed caught his eye light and the creeping feeling returned. Sleeping would be impossible with his current mindset; maybe once he had a chance to calm down, things would look different...

Slipping out the door and into the kitchen, he filled the kettle on the stove with water and set it to boil. Placing his hands near the open flame to leech some heat into his frozen fingers, he caught sight of Rurik staring at him through the opening window and shifted uncomfortably, "What?"

"Nothing, just watching," the ghost shrugged. He was wearing an expression the reaper couldn't read.

"Well stop it," Lotus growled, pointedly averting his eye light; he wasn't sure how to feel when they followed his request and disappeared somewhere farther into the living room. He huffed to himself, feeling stupid for acting so self-conscious. He couldn't let his guard down around Rurik; this was exactly the kind of opening the ghost would take advantage of to force him out.

He couldn't go back... he couldn't go back... he c-

The whistle of the kettle pulled him back to his task and he pulled a thrift store mug from the dishware cabinet, poured the steaming water, and plopped in a tea bag to steep. Deciding he needed something extra to soothe his sore throat, he opted for a dollop of honey and mixed it in until the water blended into a golden-brown color.

He stored away the partially used tea bag for later and took his drink into the living room; Rurik was hovering on their side of the couch watching television as Lotus curled up in a ball on the other side. There was laughter somewhere, but he found his mind wasn't interested in processing what was happening around him at all as he stared blankly at the moving colors on the screen while absently drinking his tea.

What was he even doing? Was there even a point to clinging to the hope that things would eventually get better? He was supposed to be free, but he was still-

His vision went dark and the mug slipped out of his hands in his panicked scramble to push it away. When he found freedom, he twisted his skull to stare at the blankets that had pooled around him. Rurik was still sitting on the other side of the couch, but he was in a different position than before.

Lotus swallowed, "Did you-?"

"You were shaking and I couldn't hear the T.V. over the noise, so I got one of your blankets," Rurik answered, keeping their starry eye lights directed at the television.

More laughter drew his attention to the same area; an improv comedy skit was playing instead of the sports or news he knew his roommate preferred. Lotus blinked as he slowly put the pieces together... the conclusion brought a feeling that he immediately shoved back down and vehemently denied.

He was tired; that was all it was. He was looking for connections that weren't there... a stupid venture that would only hurt him in the end.

Picking up the mug he hadn't noticed was empty until now, and likely had been for a while given the cool state of the ceramic, he set it on the table and pulled the blanket closed around himself. Nothing was said as they watched the four comedians on-screen ad-lib to jaunty music; one of the humans fumbled their lines and he couldn't help but smile as the audience laughed. Rurik snickered from the other side of the couch as the next comedian picked up the slack and incorporated a jab into their part.

As the credits began to roll, he finally started to feel warm again. Curling his fingers into the blanket, Lotus muttered, "... thanks." He got a hum in response and nothing more.

This was fine; things could be fine like this... he could make this work.

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Word Count: 1,627