~Part One - Setup~
He rested his head in his hands, kneeling on the cold tile floor. What had he done? What hadn't he done? He loved her, of that he was sure. He was also quite sure that he couldn't help her. Not this time around.
He gave a trembling sigh.
What disgusted him was that he had invaded her mind, of only for a moment, to catch a glimpse of what she'd been thinking. It hadn't made any sense, but that wasn't the point. He'd done it. He'd actually violated her mind.
He retched again.
What a loser. What a failure at life!
He stood on weakened knees and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He couldn't stand the taste of salt water. He peered toward the mirror and stared at his own reflection for a moment before wrenching his eyes away in disgust.
It was hideous. His reflection was hideous. No...it wasn't his. It was William's reflection. Or wasn't he, himself, just William's reflection? If he hadn't been taken over...what would he look like? Would he be handsome? Would his personality have been sweeter? Would his life have been so terrible? Would he have ruined as many lives as he did?
He gave a final, trembling sigh before letting go. He dropped to the floor, head buried in his hands, and sobbed. His pain and fear was embodied in the tiny droplets of, what else, salt water that streamed down his cheeks. His gills flared, glaringly obvious in this state. He felt vulnerable. Juvenile. Mediocre. Disgusting.
Men weren't supposed to cry, he knew, but what made him any better than an infant? He couldn't be considered a person before this moment. He wasn't. The entirety of his life had been a total lie. Had he even felt anything before this moment? The thought of suicide passed his mind, but soon cleared. He could not die, and he had made sure of this the first time he had passed on. Why had he been so cocky? Why wouldn't he accpet it as his time? Now there was nothing to save him. There was nothing to pull him from this wretched state.
Or was there?
No...he couldn't possibly...oh, but he could.
What if everyone found out? Well...how would they?!
He sat in indecision, sobbing and gagging on his own tears. This could be considered the most important decision of his life, he was sure...or maybe the only.
That cinched it. He was going to do it. He was going to get his beautiful release from it all. From all of his problems. From all of his emotions. From everything.
He stood and opened his uniform, breaking the stitches of the pocket he had sewn shut so many years before. Fingers bleeding, he removed a small packet, one of many, half-filled with some kind of metallic white powder. He reached into yet another pocket and removed a razor blade.
He set these items on the edge of the sink.
He then made his way out into the dining room, picking up his notebook and removing the pen from its spiral binding. He returned to the bathroom sink and disassembled his pen, then taking the razor blade and bisecting it. He admired his work with morbid fascination.
It was amazing how old routines stuck with you. Like riding a bike.
He opened the packet of powder and carefully shook a certain amount onto the porcelian. The surface had never really mattered to him, and there was no reason to fear disease any longer.
He once again picked up the razor blade and began the meticulous, loving operation of seperating the powder into 3 seperate lines.
This was the final step. The final point at which he could turn back and change his mind; not take the leap into oblivion.
He thought of Crow.
He took the pen in his hand and spun it happily before leaning forward, putting it up to his nostril. Plugging the other with a free finger, he snorted all three lines of the powder in quick succession. He'd built up a pretty good immunity over the years. It took a lot to do anything to him at all.
He suddenly threw his head back, giving a small moan of ecstasy. He'd forgotten how quickly Ald'ebran kicked in. A sinister smile crept up onto his lips as he stumbled backward, dreamily making his way to the couch, his head still raised.
He collapsed onto the upholstery, laughing and revelling completely in the numb, cruel ecstasy that the drug brought.
Only once, he told himself before passing into unconsciousness. He was only going to do it once.
...but he knew it was a lie.
