filetofish | PSLS BECAUSE GAY

[In this timeline, when Rean agreed to board the pantagruel, he never got home. Not because he didn't try, or his friends didn't try, but because he wasn't offered the opportunity to chat and run around on his own. Instead, when Crow brought him lunch and chatted with him, he was distant, quiet, never looking Rean in the eye. And about 10 minutes into it, Rean was hit with a deeply sleepy feeling, and then... nothing.

He can't know how long it's been, but he's woken up in a basement medical facility somewhere, in a room that would seem like a nice hospital room (comfy bed, tiny bathroom, two uncomfortable-looking chairs), except that the walls and floor are immaculate, undecorated white tile, there are no windows, and door is heavy and very, very locked, with only a tiny window slot. Off in the distance there are faint voices, some speaking, some shouting, some making terrible wordless noises, all muffled by the thick walls and door until they're just a din of horrific sound. Rean's clothes have been replaced by basic scrubs, and there's some kind of small flat disc stuck to the skin of his chest that won't come off. It has a tiny green glowing light on it.

There's no one else there. Rean can explore to his heart's content, but there's no way for him to get out.]

[It's obvious he's been drugged. Less obvious is why, though Rean's sure he doesn't want to stay and find out.

But while he spends time prying at the disc it doesn't come off, and he gives up in favor of exploring the small space. Ways out all see m to be... The door. That's it. Not promising.

He's alarmed, unnerved by the distant voices, the fact that he's been undressed and something attached to him while he was unconscious, it's all unpleasant, but aside from that his spirits are still strong, he'll get out, he's sure. Splashing his face with water he goes to try and figure out how to escape through the door. It's a shame Emma isn't here to open the lock.]

[While Rean's fiddling with the door there comes the sound of footsteps -- three sets, two heavier and with a shorter stride than the third. There's a jingle and some clicking noises as the door is unlocked, then opened, revealing two stocky orderlies... and Crow. Crow, with a totally emotionless expression, as if his whole personality has just up and fled.]

You're awake, then.

[The orderlies move in, to grab Rean, drag him to the bed, and hold him down.]

[He struggles, naturally. But two large men can overpower him without much fuss, especially when he has no equipment, no weapon, no ARCUS. He kicks and squirms violently nevertheless, glaring but also... Confused. Upset, mainly.]

Crow what is this?

You're not going to agree to join us.

[Duh. No one in the alliance really believed he ever would. Crow looks totally bored with it though. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else -- and he would. But he's not bored. He's just suppressing the guilt and frustration he's feeling, knowing he has no choice but to hurt Rean if he wants to continue on the path he's chosen.]

But if you don't, you're going to be a real pain. So we'll just make you want to.

[Crow takes a small box out of his jacket pocket and opens it, revealing a few syringes of a red liquid. He selects one, and calmly strides over to Rean.]

Hold him still.

[The orderlies are obedient, and Rean's held fast while Crow injects him in the forearm with a drug that brings on a powerful high -- utter euphoria, mental and physical pleasure that will leave Rean floating in a haze where his thoughts and memories feel distant.]

[He struggles against it, yelling angrily the whole time. Telling Crow this is stupid and he is going to beat him up and drag him back, other such Rean things. At least until the narcotic kicks in and he goes more still, eyes dilating and breathing calming as the high drains his anger and upset and energy, leaving him floating.

No one needs to hold him down after ten minutes, he's pretty much placid and docile, in a totally good mood but also flushed and a bit confused about it, but not really bothered by that.

It's really the best he's felt in his life.]

[It makes Crow sick. He really doesn't want to do this. He hates it, and he hates more that he can't say with certainty that he wasn't ordered to carry out this experiment just because of that. That his superiors know he's been helping Rean here and there and are reminding him where his loyalty is supposed to lie.

But even if that's true, he's going to follow through. There are things he needs to accomplish, and a cynicism that makes it hard to believe in a better ending. So he crosses his arms and watches Rean with no expression, no sympathy at all.]

How do you feel?

[Rean sits up, feeling floaty, looking at his hands in wonder, like they belong to someone else.]

Good.

[His voice sounds light and carefree and heavily drugged, his words not quite coming out exactly right, too slow and odd.]

Really good. Amazing.

Great.

[Well. At least he isn't putting Rean in pain. That makes it easier to go along with this whole thing. Crow lifts a hand to ruffle Rean's hair, a friendly gesture not reflected in his cold eyes.]

When you get used to it you should be able to fight through this.

[No pain until the withdrawal hits anyway. He blinks owlishly at Crow, raises a hand to touch where he got patted.]

I'll bring you back.

[He says it placidly. His conviction is still in him, but it's under the haze of euphoria so there's no urgency. Nothing seems urgent right now. Nothing seems bad.]

I love you.

[Totally sincere and without a filter. Whether he means anything more than family or friends Rean doesn't even know, but he knows he loves Crow, and he's feeling so relaxed and good there's no reason he shouldn't just say so.]

--What?

[Maybe he should have expected Rean to say surprising things when he's really really high, but Crow's still shocked. How can he hear something like that and keep doing this? He doesn't want to. He wants to get Rean out of here and deliver him safely to Class VII's arms. But he can't. If he wants to keep fighting he has to follow even this order.

He steps back, though, just for the comfort of distance.]

You're high. You're not accomplishing anything like that.

Mm. Yeah.

[He laughs, light hearted.]

But it'll work out. I don't know how, but I definitely think things are going to be fine.

[He reaches for Crow but the distance is too much so he just blinks at his fingers.]

Maybe it's the thing you gave me? I just feel really positive. I will make you come back, and it'll be okay.

You won't.

[Not now. Not with what they're going to do to him.]

Give it a few weeks and I doubt you'll even remember you wanted to.

[He feels too good to be disturbed or threatened.]

I could never forget. You're too important.

You will.

[He says it with force, because the idea of Rean remembering no matter what is too painful. He really wanted to be beaten. He wanted to be dragged back, and he's mourning the chance that it could happen. It could still, maybe, if he rebelled, but he's not going to. He can't. He chose his priorities a long time ago.

So for now he's turning to leave. He can't bring himself to do anything really cruel.]

[Rean's having a fine time in his empty room, up until he isn't. When the drugs drain thin in his system and his body starts crashing. The withdrawal is bad. The first one leaves him shaky and sweaty, throwing up in the tiny bathroom, curled on the floor and crying.

The first one is the easiest.

The next time Crow comes he fights harder, yells louder. But the high takes hold like before, and like before Crow is long gone when Rean is left crying and shivering on the floor.

After five days his arms are bloody and scabbed from Rean clawing at them. And there's something wrong, the high should last longer than it does but every day the period shortens alarmingly and the withdrawal gets worse, the pain and craving lasts. On the first day the high lasted twelve hours, the fifth it's down to six.

On the sixth day Rean doesn't fight, doesn't get up from the curled ball of misery he is on the floor. He doesn't offer his arm but doesn't struggle when an orderly drags it up from where it's tight around his knees.]

[Crow's been dutifully taking notes. He comes in every day, coldly administers the drug, and watches Rean just long enough to see how he feels. From there it's a hidden camera and the vitals-monitoring device stuck to his skin that tell Crow how the withdrawal is going.

He hates it. He hates seeing Rean cry, and he hates seeing him lost in the high just as much. This is meant to erode Rean's sense of self, but Crow likes Rean. He doesn't want to lose him. But he has to. He tells himself that if he was willing to annihilate Crossbell, fucking Rean up should be small potatoes. But every day he has to put on a blank face, to keep himself from losing it.

Today's no different. He's quiet and cold, injecting Rean and standing back to watch it kick in. The goal here is to make Rean so desperate he breaks -- to make him willing to do anything for his fix, and to make his identity fade. The more drugs he takes the more it'll eat away at his memory, and while he'll remember everything when sober, when he's high it'll get harder and harder to be anything but a creature that exists to stay that way.

They're not there yet. But soon they will be. Today though Crow's just given him a bigger dose, so the pleasure is greater and will last a little longer.]

Have you accepted it yet? That you lose.

[Rean looks up at Crow tiredly. The drugs aren't kicking in yet, soon, but there's a red tinge to his normally soft pink eyes. His breathing is kind of shallow. But there's nothing about him that seems threatening.]

No.

[It's quiet and sad. He's aware right now, and when he's only in mild extreme pain, which is often these last few days, he has time to think. His body is doing things he can't control, control has been wrenched from him, daily, but he won't give up on Crow. Not as long as he's aware of himself.

The problem is the stretches of time he's not aware of himself.]

I...

[He can feel it starting already, creeping into his head, numbing and shrouding the pain and his sense of who he is.]

I'll remember you. No matter what. So at some point I'll drag you back...

[His eyes start to dilate, the pain dulls. He's not sure why he was upset.]

....

[That hurts. Even more than before, Crow's sure that he doesn't belong back there. Even if Rean won now, how could Crow ever return to a happy peace? He's done too much. He's crossed lines he never wanted to cross.

He wants to stop, but the more he does this the harder that becomes. He feels like he's already messed up too much to recover from, and if there's no recovery why not just keep going? Moving forward, no matter the pain.

He's not hurting nearly as bad as Rean, so he can't complain. He can keep his distance though, and he's not remotely able to make eye contact.]

It'll be easier for us both when you forget.

[He hasn't forgotten but it's getting hazy. Distant and unimportant. What's important is the drugs. And not coming down from this. He needs it.]

Don't go.

[He says softly, looking at Crow with that drugged out gaze. Not quite focusing.]

...Why?

[Crow always leaves. He can't stand to stick around and watch Rean, not when he's like this and not when he's in withdrawals. If he's alone with the cameras he can break down all he wants, but he won't allow himself to show any emotion to Rean's face.]

I don't want to be alone.

[He's sounding softly high, mellow. But like this he's still aware of what comes later, and as much as negative emotions can penetrate, he's scared of it.]

...You're already alone.

[Ugh. It's not new to Crow, this pretending he doesn't care thing. But it stings more sharply than it used to.]

Get used to it.

[He starts to say something and then just... Stops. The pleasure is sapping away his ability to think or care, his memories of why he should, but he's still aware enough that the heartbreak is naked in his expression.

He doesn't believe that. He doesn't believe he's alone but he doesn't know how Crow can go through with this either.]

...Crow...

[Honestly the drugs are wearing him down but what might be worse is the loneliness. Solitary isolation except when Crow comes to get him high, the non-interactions with those who bring food, Rean isn't a person built for this kind of loneliness.]

Honestly, you should just quit talking to me.

[Because he's horrible and doesn't deserve it. But he's trying to make it sound like he's irritated by it instead. Like he's fine with all this and Rean's friendliness is a bother.]

Unless you're answering a question, nothing you say has any use.

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