Foster is dead. I killed him. (I'm sick...what else is new?) (Part 2)

I went into the bathroom and threw up whatever I had left in me, leaning over the sink until I was sure I could manage standing on my own. I pressed myself bodily against the wall, proceeding with extreme caution. I nearly fell from exhaustion, making it a few steps further before collapsing onto the hard floor. All my strength had been drained from me, I could barely move. Just then, I heard a noise, it sounded like someone was in the bedroom, my bedroom.

In my rage I forgot about my exhaustion and tried to stand up, failure was eminent.

"Who the hell is in my room??"

"It's just me, Dexter." He said, walking over to my fallen form.

"Is it....?" He didn't need to hear the full question to understand.

"No. You didn't have it in you to finish."

I breathed heavily, "Thanks for keeping an eye on me."

"I know you'd do the same for me."

"Yeah," I said in agreement, "So what now?"

"We could fuck him senseless." He said jokingly.

"I think I have caused him enough pain."

"Sorry, I shouldn't be fooling around." He fell silent.

"I wish it wasn't like this."

"Do you want me to call the hospital?"

"N-no. I will...I will be okay." I replied weakly, loosing my train of thought.

"Are you sure? You don't look so good."

I had gathered enough energy to stand, I stood up, using the sink for support, looking in the bathroom mirror. He was right, I didn't look very good at all. "I don't need to go to the hospital, I don't ever want to go back...not ever."

"Gabriel, I think it's time you faced the facts, you're sick, you need help."

"I know, but I won't go back there. I won't go back!" I raised my voice, "You can't make me!! No one can!! I won't do it!!"

Suddenly I was in my room again. Foster was holding me close, his body molded into mine.

"Shhhh...calm down," He ran his hand soothingly up and down my back, "Calm down, Gabriel, it's just a dream."

I was breathing heavily, my eyes darting around my surroundings, surveying the room. Until they landed on Foster, looking into his eyes, trying to find something familiar to hold onto, to keep close in this time of uncertainty. "Foster?"

"Shhh...yes...it's me." He carefully laid a hand on my face, wiping away the tears as they poured out freely.

"T-that's good. I didn't kill you, did I?"

He smiled a sad kind of smile, "No, you didn't kill me."

"Oh, okay." I don't want to hurt him ever. I was trembling, shuddering, from the inside out.

"Are you gonna be ok?"

I took a moment to consider my response, then with a trembling voice I answered, "You are safe, that's all that matters to me." I couldn't stop the shaking no matter how much I wanted to. He took this in with a concerned look.

"Are you ok?"

"No." It was choked out more then anything.

"Do you need to eat something? Rest? Get to the bathroom?"

I was shuddering all over, swallowing hard as I tried to keep myself together. "Foster, I need..." I kept it together for the most part, "I need help."

"Should I call Jayden?"

"P-please. I n-need help." I stuttered, expending just enough energy to face him, the urgency of my request was projected through the anxiousness of my every move.

"I'll be right back."

"No Foster! Don't leave me! I need you!"

"I'm not going to leave you. I just need to get the phone."

"Promise you won't leave?"

"I promise."

He kept his word and came back right after locating the phone. Settling down beside me, I was still shaking like mad, he wrapped an arm around me, holding me firmly, hoping it would make the shudders more bearable, it seemed as though the room was spinning.

I fell backwards into the messy sheets, taking Foster down with me, I curled around him, still unable to control my movements. "T-tell him it's urgent."

He dialed his number, "What do you think I'm doing?" The line was busy.

"I need help now." The pain evident in my voice.

"Should I call 911?"

"NO. Don't do that!! I can't go back! I never wa-"

"Okay fine." He cut me off, knowing that this was going to lead to a lot of shouting on my part, "I'll just keep calling Jayden."

"Why isn't he answering??" I was getting very frustrated with our current predicament.

"He's probably at work."

"Did you try his work number?"

"He won't pick up."

"Ok. I need you to get something from the medicine cabinet," I knew what needed to be done. "In the medicine cabinet there should be a bag labeled In Case of Emergency grab it and bring it here."

He nodded and fled to the bathroom.

"Foster?!!" I cried out. "I feel like I'm dying."

I heard the sound of pills dropping to the floor as Foster ran to the room with tremendous speed.

"What's wrong? Where does it hurt?"

I was sitting now, my arms wrapped around my knees, rocking myself back and forth. "I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die..."

"I won't let you die. I'm going to go get Jayden, okay?"

I nodded the briefest of nods.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." He was almost out the door when I spoke.

"Foster?"

"Yeah?" He turned around to face me.

"I miss you."

"I haven't left yet."

A sad smile formed on my face. "I know." I looked solemnly at the floor.

"I'll be back." He opened the door. "Gabriel,"

I lifted my head up at the sound of my name.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise." He flew down the first flight of stairs, I closed the door, resting my forehead on it, trembling and uneasy.

"He'll be right back." Dexter assured me, patting me on the back.

"But what if he doesn't come back." I leaned against the door, sliding down to the floor, resting before returning to the bedroom.

"He will." He said, running gentle fingers through my hair.

I shuddered all over, trying to piece myself together, like Humpty Dumpty only with better results.

"All the kings horses and all the kings men couldn't put Gabriel back together again." Dexter said dramatically.

"I already know what you're thinking. Why even bother verbalizing it?"

"Think of it this way, now you can use a bazillion quotation marks in everything you write."

I shuddered viciously, allowing the tears that had been burning in my eyes to escape in rapid succession, I couldn't stop the shaking.

"Foster..." I prowled restlessly on the bed.

"Gabriel, just lay down and rest."

"I c-can't sleep until he g-gets back."

"Oh come on," he begged, pressing kisses to my forehead.

"We could fuck." He whispered softly in my ear.

"I'm in the m-middle of a rreally bbad attack and all y-you can think about is fffucking me??" I stuttered most of the words.

"Just lay down," he pushed me gently until my head hit the pillow, pinning me down.

I shook uncontrollably, looking at everything spinning around me, I felt a sudden sharp pain in my head, screaming in agony.

"Shhhh..." He put a finger to my lips. "You know you want me."

I was a bit drowsy, everything was a blur, a blurry figure hovered over me.

"Foster?"

"Yeah?" Dexter imposed as Foster.

I rolled on top. "Don't leave, I need you." I pressed myself against his body, leaving fleeting kisses on his neck.

"Gabriel??" It was the real Foster standing at the bedroom door with Jayden at his side. "What are you doing?"

I gathered myself, noticeably tired, tears burning in my eyes, "I was lonely."

Foster sat down in front of me, taking my hands in his, "I'm back now, you're not alone." Jayden just stood by the door, in shock (I guess).

"Are...are you Jayden?" I directed toward who I assumed to be Jayden.

"That's me." I found his southern accent somewhat amusing. "What's so important that you had to drag me out of a meeting?"

"I wish to turn myself in."

"You've got the wrong guy," he said, "I'm a doctor, not law enforcement."

"My crime is not of the law, it is of the mind."

"So you're crazy?"

"I would not go as far as to say crazy." I said, Dexter came to the fore, "I certainly would." I shoved him back again. "You'll have to excuse my partner in crime. He seems to be making an effort to make my life more miserable then it already is." Dexter forced himself out again. "I truly am sorry." He sounded anything but sorry.

"When was rehearsal?"

"Rehearsal?" I shook, my anxious expression returning.

"It's a joke."

"I..." I trembled.

"Jay," Foster's voice was added to our conversation, "He doesn't interpret humor very well."

I was shuddering now.

"I didn't mean to freak you out or anything."

I stood up uneasily, "I am...I am sorry." I pushed my way past Foster and bolted for the bathroom.

"Gabriel!" Foster tripped over a shoe (that I still haven't put away) in his haste to follow me.

I slammed the door behind me, leaving it unlocked for the time being, I sat down in front of the toilet.

Jayden spoke through the door. "Gabriel, I'm sorry for freaking you out. I didn't know."

"I..." I puked, cleared my throat, and continued, "I apologize for acting out, but you must understand, it is who I am." Was the hoarse response.

"Can we..." It was Foster, "Can we come in?"

"It is unlocked."

Foster slowly opened the door, poking his head in, looking around the diminutive room. I was resting heavily against wall, he approached me, careful not to step in a puddle of puke. Jayden entered and closed the door quietly behind himself.

Foster sat down beside me, taking my hand in his.

"Foster." I breathed reverently.

"And Jayden." Jayden said, apparently feeling left out.

"Which one of you is Foster?" I couldn't make out their faces, and I had to be sure. I wouldn't want to be showing affection for Jayden.

"Foster would be the one smothering you, and Jayden would be the one standing awkwardly by the door." Jayden said, I presumed he was trying to be funny again.

"How humorous."

"Gabriel, you don't have to pretend to get it, Jayden's a friend."

"A friend." I repeated, the word echoing in my mind. "Are friends humorous a lot?" I asked, completely unaware of how this whole friendship thing works.

"It depends on which friends you're talking about." Foster said, brushing his fingers through my hair, I pressed my head against his palm, submitting to his gentle handling. "Your friends, do they joke a lot?"

"I guess so." Foster said, sifting one hand into my hair, massaging my scalp and the back of my neck while he spoke.

"oh," It was choked out more than anything, I was leaning my head back into Foster's hand, soaking up the comfort.

"But I wouldn't be too worried about it." Jayden added.

I opened my mouth to say something, then shut it as my face paled. I swallowed down the sudden urge to puke, closing my eyes and leaning heavily against Foster. "I worry that I will not be able to speak to your friends without them making a joke every other sentence." I explained, opening my eyes to look at Foster.

"I don't think they're that funny." Foster rested his hand on mine in my lap.

"Trust me they aren't." Jayden took a step closer to where we were sitting.

"Now that kind of humor I understand."

"I have a feeling you two will get along well." Foster said after a moments thought.

"And I have a feeling you're in need of checkup." Jayden said, pointing at me accusingly, opening the door.

"Affirmative." I followed his lead to the living room with Foster trailing behind.

"Where's all the furniture?" Jayden asked, looking around the living room.

"There are mats here," I said, pointing everything out. "A desk there, a chair behind the desk, and a bench by the door."

"Yes, but where do we sit?" He asked, missing it entirely.

Foster stood at the end of the hall, not able to wipe the grin off his face.

"Are these mats not suitable?"

"For you maybe, but in case you haven't noticed I'm older then you."

I actually hadn't noticed until he pointed it out, he only looked a couple years older than me, "There are chairs in the dinning room if you wish to relocate."

"Can't we just move the chairs in here?"

I shook. "Please, please don't hurt me." I cowered like a scared child, "Please don't, it hurts." I cried.

Foster touched my shoulder, I shoved him abruptly away, whimpering and shuddering, "NO. Don't touch me. I don't want to do it. I won't do it!"

"Please, stop." I fell to the ground, shuddering, curling into a ball, shielding myself from the invisible man, but he wouldn't stop hitting me.

"Shhh...it's ok, no one's going to hurt you, not anymore." Foster whispered, he gave me what I needed most, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close, willing me not to panic on him, to not shut down. "No one's going to hurt you," he breathed against my ear, keeping his voice low and soothing.

I was clinging to him. Soaking up the physical contact like a sponge, eyes closed as I molded myself into Foster's body, he too closed his eyes.

"Thank you." My voice muffled in his shirt. I pressed my head against his chest, slowing my breathing to match his.

"Where's Jayden?" I asked, eyes darting around the surrounding area.

"I don't know." He obviously didn't want to go look.

"I'm getting a chair!" He hollered from the kitchen.

"Don't use the one with the indents...that one is...unstable." It isn't really unstable, I just didn't want to see it at the moment.

"How'd you get all those indents anyways?" He asked, joining us in the living room, pulling up his chair.

"I..." I wrapped my arms tightly around Foster, silently telling him to respond for me.

"Jay," Foster said with gentle reprimand.

The realization dawned, "Oh my gosh. Did he do all that??"

The surprise in his voice made me tense up, squeezing Foster, shuddering from head to toe. Was it really that bad?

"Shhhhh...it's ok, it's gonna be ok."

"He's trying to kill us." It was Dexter.

Jayden was intrigued. "Who's trying to kill you?"

"It's...it's our father." I gasped, gripping my stomach, he kicked me in the stomach repeatedly.

"Please stop." I cried weakly, gripping Foster's shirt, our father turned around to kick us again, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" I curled even tighter around Foster, preparing for another round of beating.

"Good god Foster, when you said things were bad I didn't think you meant this bad." Jayden observed the chaos from a safe distance.

"If it wasn't this bad I wouldn't have taken you out of a meeting." I stood up, escaping Foster's embrace, "Gabriel?" I grabbed a screwdriver from my desk and rammed it into our father's head (the floor in other words) aggressively, eyes fierce, looking at them wildly. They both stared at me, a look of question in their eyes, and I wanted to respond, oh how I wanted to respond, but I couldn't, for the struggle had left me gasping forcefully for air.

"He killed her." Dexter's voice was lacking infliction, emotionless.

"What's happening?" Jayden asked, confused by my sudden outburst. "It's like he's having a bad dream."

"It's not a dream!" I shouted in denial, "He killed her! It's all my fault!" I cried, my convulsive gasps leaving me breathless.

"Who? Who's dead?" Foster stood by me, resting his hands on my shoulders, never breaking eye contact with me as my body squirmed out of his grip.

"Eden, she's gone." Dexter said plainly.

"Who's Eden?" Jayden was now standing beside us, taking in the scene.

"I don't know." Foster admitted.

"She is...is my...was my-" I shoved Dexter out completely, unable to handle their questions any longer.

"She was our sister." Dexter broke contact with Foster, walking slowly away from them. He was gazing at a drawer in the distance, and approaching it calmly.

"Dexter," Foster had noticed the change in our voice.

"Gabriel is here too." He opened the drawer, looking down at the graphic drawing.

"Dexter?" Jayden was still confused, him being left in the dark seems to be a thing around here.

"I am a second personality, his other self, so to speak." He is much better with words then me.

"Ah, dissociative identities."

"Yes. He blames himself for Eden's death, whereas I have accepted it as a flaw in our father's character."

"What happened to her?" Jayden was still trying to delve into my head.

"She was murdered, like my mother, only the extent of Eden's injuries were far greater."

"I'm sorry." He expressed his sympathy.

"So am I." I looked down at the drawing, deciding it was best not to show them, I shut the drawer quietly, turning to face them. They both looked sad, I didn't like this.

"I am okay." I said.

"We are fine." Dexter agreed, sitting down comfortably on a mat, we were pleased when Foster joined us.

"That's good to hear, but I'm still gonna need to run some tests," Jayden wasn't giving up his duties as a medical professional.

I relaxed my hand on the back of Foster's neck, "Maybe...maybe later." I said slowly, pulling Foster into a slow drowning kiss.

"Well this is awkward."

I pulled away just enough to speak, "If I wanted your opinion I would have asked."

Foster laughed.

"Well you got it anyway." He retorted.

"You can run some tests, I am entirely at your disposal." I said, getting annoyed by our banter.

"Good." He disappeared into the bedroom, retrieving his bag.

"I'm going to need a sample of your blood." He said, returning to the living room, looking away when he noticed we were still kissing. I broke away and carefully hid a smile.

"Doctor, if you are getting squeamish over kissing I doubt you will be able to retrieve a blood sample."

"Me? Squeamish?" He said in disbelief.

"I see no other doctors." I looked at Foster.

"He has a point."

"And I have a needle."

"Oh brother, go right ahead and poke me with your flimsy needle." I said, aggravated by the power he held over me at the moment.

"I have to sterilize the entry point first."

He made quick work of it, sterilizing, cutting off circulation, drawing my blood, and running some strange tests.

"Huh. That's weird."

"W-what's weird?" I was noticeably nervous.

He ignored my question entirely making me even more agitated. "Do you ever lose your sense of touch?"

"No," I replied.

"Are you a vegetarian?"

"I am not," I said indignantly, "Dexter is. He hates meat."

"Do you eat meat a lot?"

"No." I'm not a big fan of meat, although bacon is superb. He scribbled some stuff down in a little notepad.

"When was the last time you left this place anyways?"

"I..." I trembled a little, squeezing my eyes shut, swallowing hard before opening my eyes again. "I do not recall the specifics of my last departure."

"In other words it's been so long you can't remember."

"Y-yes." I was determined to get through this without Dexter's help.

"Do you ever go outside?" The more I spoke the more concerned everyone seemed to get.

"Foster took me to the roof."

"Foster told me ALL about your little roof escapade." Hahaha! What a character! I couldn't help the look of fondness that took over my calm expression.

"Do you exercise?"

"Sometimes."

"What kind of exercise? Weight lifting?"

"I'm not that strong."

"Not that strong?" He said, his tone disbelieving. "Didn't you leave those dents all over the fridge?"

"Yes." I replied, barely above a whisper.

And of course the one time I wear a T-shirt is the time the doctor pays me a visit. "And what about those scars? Do you put anything on them?"

"No."

"How often would you say you have a meltdown in a week?"

"This week there has been fourteen." I burrowed further into Foster.

He looked at me seriously, leaning forward in his chair and resting his arms on his knees. "You don't go outside, you don't have any furniture, no drawings on the fridge, nobody visits you and you don't visit anybody, you don't smile, you clearly don't eat much, you take the blame for stuff you have no control over, you're meticulously organized, everything has a label, you're afraid that no one will ever enjoy your company, there aren't any happy memories covering your walls because there isn't anything worth remembering, I think you're trapped, lost, and lonely."

"I..." I was shaking again, holding back the tears that were burning in my eyes, trying my best to keep it together.

"Hey," Foster said, keeping his voice low and soothing. "If you're uncomfortable just tell me, we can stop whenever you want, ok?" I shook my head, wishing to make eye contact but ending up looking at my hands and closing my eyes instead. Foster kept smoothing his hand over my cheek, tracing the curve of my ear. "You okay?"

I nodded, leaning into Foster's hand. My eyes cracked open, blinking several times rapidly, tear tracks escaping from the corners of my eyes, "Foster," I breathed.

"You okay?" he asked me again, the tremors moving from my hands into my arms.

"You should jump with me." The shaking eased as I spoke, leaning my head and body leisurely against Foster's until Foster was cradling me against his side.

Foster waited for further explanation, but I was to tired to explain. He kissed my temple, and nuzzled into my hair. "Feeling better?"

"Uh huh." I mumbled in his shirt, melting further into the warm embrace.

"Maybe we should continue this later." Jayden suggested (in reference to my check up), squirming in his chair.

"What do you think, Gabriel?" Foster whispered softly, pressing a kiss to my head. "You up for more questions?"

"You may proceed." I murmured, not wanting to move, not wanting to ruin the walls of security that had been built around me, protecting me from all his senseless questions.

He asked me loads more questions and growled at me for not getting out more often. he practically ordered Foster to take me on a road trip or camping or something to get away from it all. It was all very taxing and I fell asleep while they argued, my head resting in Foster's lap.

"Camping it is." Foster whispered to me as I drifted off.

I've never been camping. It sounds strange.


Gabriel.