Circle Of Fear

AN: The *next* chapter might have some SEXEH TIMES!


Under the ground I fly, to hide from the brilliant sky. Under my armor, I cry. Doing it for the one who saved your life. I've done it all. Doing it for the one who stole your life.-Divine Insanity, Lovex

“How much longer have I got to stay here?” I asked the next day, trying to keep the whine out of my voice. Hank tapped the vial of blood I had just given him.

“Not much longer,”

“Is there anything wrong with me? Other than the fact I'm mentally ill?” I joked. He gave he a stern look.

“I've told you before, Collette, you're not mentally ill. You may post traumatic stress disorder, but I believe we can work past that.”

“They said--,” I began.

“They're not RIGHT, Collette. You're a very bright young woman. I know you won't let something like this ruin the rest of your life.” I fell quiet as he exited the room. Of course Remy was right behind him, walking in with a grin.

“Where were you last night?” I grumbled.

“Figured dat you was big enough to sleep by yourself.” Remy raised an eyebrow. I had the grace to look embarrassed. He sank down onto the bed again.
“How much longer you stuck in here?”

“Not much longer,” I mimicked the blue doctor before falling back with a huge sigh. “I hate this. Can't we go outside again?”I knew I was whining now, but I didn't much care.

“Oh no! I got my hide tanned for dat one.” Remy snorted.

“Come on, please?” I begged, crawled towards him and holding his arm. He shook his head. I pouted like a puppy.

“Can't anyway, cherie. I'm supposed to talk to ya.”

“About what?” I slumped back with a sigh.

“It ain't just the voices in your head, is it Collette?” I looked sharply at him.

“What are you talking about, Remy?”

“Remember when I yelled at'cha yesterday?”

“Yes,” I mumbled, sulking. Remy gave me a look and sighed.

“It's 'cause I could feel ya influencin' me.”

“What do you mean? Like, puppy eyes? No, I've done that since I was six. That's nothing strange. Girls do that all the time. I would think that you would understand that better than anybody, Remy.” I teased.

“Dis serious, Letty. Ya gotta listen to me, okay?” he gave me a stern look. I cocked my head to the side, letting him know I was listening.
“Ya don't just have the voices, petite. You can persuade people. Influence dem.”

“What do you mean? Everybody can do that.”

“Not like you, cherie. People can influence, dat true. People can suggest. You make it happen.” Remy watched me carefully. I shook my head.

“That's why they wouldn't touch me in the hospital.” I mumbled, running my hands through my hair and tugging lightly.
“They said like—it felt like I was making them do something. I don't know. I quit listening. They called me witch. Crazy witch.”

“Oh, cherie.” Remy murmured.

“But none of that matters now, right?” I fixed on a weak smile. “Right, Remy?”

**

“Right,” Remy agreed. He looked at the girl, looking prettier than she had any right to in a fresh hospital gown.
“Collette, what ya gonna do when ya ain't gotta sit in here?”

“I don't know.” she answered, hugging her knees to her chest. “I thought that I could—make friends?”

“Don't rush.” he warned her. “The Professor say dat ya need time.”

“It's just so ridiculous, Remy. I knew how to be friends with people, how to talk and laugh and everything before they put me in State Asylum. And now everything just seems so far away from me.” she looked at her toes.

“What do ya mean, petite?”

“It's just that... I guess I don't feel like I belong in this world. What's that word for when things aren't real? Like a dream?”

“Surreal,” Remy provided. Collette nodded.

“Everything feels surreal. Like I'm watching everything from behind glass. I can see the kids out on the lawn. I know that I used to play like that, used to horse around and jump on people's backs and talk and laugh. But if you told me that I had to go down there right now? I don't think I could do one thing.” the girl shrugged.

“It come back to ya, Letty.”

“Maybe.” she looked down at her toes. “Geesh. I haven't gotten to paint these since I went it. I used to pain my toes every week.”

Remy grabbed one of her ankles, pulled it onto his lap. He took in the little toes. The nails were just perfect for painting, though maybe they could do with a trimming and filing. He rubbed absently at her ankle as he examined her feet.

“Remy...?” Collette's voice had a questioning note. Remy just began to knead her foot. She moaned lightly and fell back on the bed.

“Your feet look tired,” Remy murmured. Collette just nodded.

His hands worked on her feet for a few minutes before moving up to her ankles. He made to move up her calves when she sat up and stopped him, her hands clamping down on his wrists. Confused, he looked up at her.

“Don't,”

“Okay,” he knew better than to push her. Immediately, he felt ashamed of himself. This girl was just learning to trust again. He ought not—do what? Touch her? Make her feel better. He drew his hands away, hating himself just a little bit.

“Remy?”

“Oui?” he leaned against the wall. Collette was against the headboard, looking at her toes again.

“Don't you have a girl friend or something?” she looked coy. Remy just smirked and leaned closer to her.

“Non, cherie. No girlfriend,” he shook his head, their lips a millimeter away. “You applyin' for the position?”

“I-I-I,” she stammered. Remy leaned even closer, his warm breath blowing over her lips. She opened her mouth, licked at the impossibly dry lips.

“Don't know?” he chuckled. “Dat's too bad.”

Before he could speak again, before his lips could press against hers, Hank stepped into the room.

“Collette, I need you to eat--, Remy, are you still here?”

“Just leavin',” he grinned and hopped off her bed, leaving Collette sitting there, stunned and frustrated. That was the way he liked to leave his girls.