The NotSoFine Line: Dustin II

(A/N: A tad shorter. My apologies! Naturally, these will probably start to get significantly shorter as the two characters interact more, as we're each strictly writing only our own character's thoughts and actions, minus the small necessities.)

"What?!" I hollered, slamming my locker shut.

Trevor nodded wildly. "Yeah," he said. "Someone told me he just fainted, out of nowhere. There was a lot of blood, I guess. Come on!"

I hurried down the hallway with Trevor, my heart racing. No. No way. He'd seemed fine when I'd tried to talk to him that morning! He'd scowled at me, just like he always did!

No. Fucking. Way.

This could not be happening.

Sure enough, though, as we rounded the corner by Rick's first period classroom, there was a crowd of loud, sweaty, busybody high-schoolers in the way. I left Trevor eating my dust and shoved my way through them violently. No way was I going to let these mindless gossipers keep me from my one true love when he was in such a dire situation! Fuck that!

I made it to the front of the crowd and peered into the classroom. Rick lay on the floor, pale as that albino boy that had given me a great night about three weeks ago. His shirt was off, and the red that matted his chest was a terrifying contrast to the current color of his skin. His lips looked slightly blue. The school nurse, a man of about twenty-six whom I knew very well, was crouched over him, holding a cloth to his wound and trying to slow the bleeding. His best friend, some chick...was Leara her name? She was on her cellphone, babbling frantically to whom I assumed was a 911 operator.

My shell-shocked brain analyzed all of this in a fraction of a second, but what I saw next made all of my meager thought processes come to a screeching halt.

Dark circles under his eyes.

Bruising, but only in the places that clothing could conceal.

Dark black and blue around his rib cage...cracked ribs.

My stomach lurched, and I felt like I was going to vomit. Sounds swam in my ears, muffled and distant, detached, as if there was a wall between me and everyone else. My knees buckled and someone I didn't know grabbed me underneath the arms to hold me up, until Trevor was there, supporting me, calling out to me, trying to get me to look at him. Answer him. Blink. Nod. Anything. I was as pale as Rick was, lying there on the floor. So vulnerable.

I knew the signs all too well.

Rick was abused.

The overwhelming blaring of sirens broke me out of my mental shut-down mode. I stumbled back and barely managed to stay on my feet, but Trevor was once again there to hold me up. A set of doors leading outside slammed open, and the crowd parted like the Red (red, blood, Rick... oh, God) Sea to let a troop of paramedics through. Before I could even blink, Rick was loaded onto a gurney and rushed off, Leara hurrying after him. The doors slammed shut again.

My mind and body reeled. I started to disconnect again, and Trevor seemed to notice.

"Come on," I heard him say, right by my ear. He had a hand on the back of my neck, gently steering me out of the crowd, and the other arm crossed in front of my torso, keeping me steady. "Let's get you out of here."

Two minutes later I found myself hunched over a toilet in the boy's restroom, the stench of vomit filling my nostrils. I groaned and reached out to flush, to get rid of that damned smell.

"Mother fucker..." I muttered. I leaned back against the stall divider and looked up to see Trevor crouched beside me like a doting mother. Pussy, I thought, a fucking overprotective pussy. Fuck, I couldn't ask for a better best friend.

"What the hell happened...?" Trevor asked carefully. "You just...freaked out."

I shook my head and let it thud back against the stall. "God, I don't even know..." I moaned. "I guess...did you see Rick's bruises?"

Trevor nodded slowly. Then, gradually, his eyes widened. "Oh, shit..." he said. "Dustin, you didn't know? I thought you would've been the first to notice..."

I sighed shakily. "That Rick's abused...?" I muttered. "No...I hadn't noticed. Fuck."

"So that's why you freaked out..." Trevor said, giving me a sympathetic, concerned look.

Shit, I hated (loved, thrived on) it when he looked at me like that.

"Yeah..." I said. I snorted and chuckled humorlessly. "Hell, we're more alike than he thinks, now aren't we...?"