We're young and insane *Francois*

[draven cole arrow]

It was almost funny how Francois was actually listening to Draven this time. Before, they butt heads about things. Francois spoke out like his words were water sometimes, but right now…it was sad that it took him a stab in the side to get him to stop fighting with Draven about certain things. Or maybe Draven was just being a bit more assertive, he didn’t know. Either way, when Francois agreed to be quiet, it was another load off of Draven’s mind. The more energy Francois saved for himself, the more breath – the better. Draven didn’t want him passing out on him, he wouldn’t know what to do. And there was no way he could perform CPR. He hadn’t really taken it and he was sure it would be a bit more awkward knowing the boy liked him, but at the same time it would save his life. Draven didn’t know. He would let the EMTs handle it. Because it seemed as if Francois was ready to have a heart attack when Draven offered him a hug at the end of all of this. Was it really that much of a surprise? Draven really needed to work on being more personable. Because if there was one thing the boy was not, he wasn’t exactly…a liar. All the time, at least. So he would follow through with it. Which would be something he’d have to build up the want to do. And the hope seemed to help Francois want to hang on, which was good. Draven wasn’t god or anything, and he wasn’t any kind of paramedic. If the best way to keep Francois alive was to offer him hugs, well, he’d offer hugs. He was sure anyone would do whatever they could in this kind of situation. Keep the person from moving, from talking, telling them to regulate their breaths…apparently Draven was doing alright. Just keep him alive was all that Draven was thinking. That was like his new mantra he was chanting in his head. He was sure Francois would return the favor if he had to one day.

In the ambulance ride to the hospital, Draven watched as Francois was fussed over and poked and pinned and Draven was glad he wasn’t a squeamish person or he would’ve been feeling nauseous just being around Francois. Not just now, but all the time. That boy didn’t see the end of injuries. Always while dancing, or something even by accident. He didn’t know how someone could be so accident prone. Draven figured it was a lot better him being in the ambulance than one of Francois’s other friends. He had seen him hanging out with Alex and Celeste. He couldn’t picture Alex being much of a help. Sure, she’d be able to stand the blood, but as for…reassurance? He didn’t know, he’d never met the girl. And then Celeste…as much as she was like a mother hen whenever she was around anyone, he had noticed, he didn’t think she would handle the gore very well. But maybe she would’ve been more useful to Francois at a time like this. Maybe Draven would get a hold of the school and have them send over Celeste instead. But for right now, he would stay with Francois, just because even while being put in the ambulance, Francois seemed petrified that Draven would leave him. This was going to have to be something that Francois had to get over. At that moment, Draven looked down as he felt Francois latch onto his fingers. At any other moment, he would’ve been lost at what to do, but he simply stayed, letting the boy hold on and not pulling his hand away. He wasn’t god damn heartless, he was just clueless sometimes. Draven shook his head, ”Shh…is okay. Just relax, you’ll be fine.”

[/color] He watched as the mask was put over the boy’s face, waiting until Francois’s grip slipped and he fell unconscious, watching to make sure the paramedics were doing what they were supposed to.

When they reached the hospital, Draven followed Francois’s stretcher into a room where people moved him to yet another room to extract the dagger and sew him up, and Draven sat in the room, just taking a few breaths, his hands moving back through his hair a bit. While Francois was being worked on, an investigator came in to ask Draven some questions, most of which Draven couldn’t answer, but the man thanked him for his answers anyway before not too long after, Francois was rolled back into the room and transferred onto the bed. Now it was time to wait for him to wake up. ~ Draven was almost dozing off in his seat as he waited for Francois to wake up. The hospital had alerted the school by now, Draven didn’t have to worry about that. That was one more thing taken off of his plate now. He glanced over as the boy started shifting, watching him try to sit up and just ending up moving around, Draven shaking his head and moving over to kneel in front of the boy in the bed, looking at him. ”You’re not s’posed to lay like that. Stop moving.”[/color] He moved a hand on the boy’s shoulder a bit to try to push him back onto his back gently. He didn’t know why the hell the boy would want to move unless the pain medicine these people had given him was amazingly strong. He sighed a bit, looking at him. ”This is last time, alright? No more. No more getting hurt, no more hospitals or nurses or headmistress meetings, you copy me?”[/color] He didn’t think that was the right word, but oh well, he knew Francois would get what he meant. Draven was just tired of it. And now, there really wasn’t any need. Draven was sure the school had taken care of Francois’s mother, and now his father was out of the picture. The only person Francois needed to work on now was himself. That was his only worry. Draven lifted his brows at the boy. ”Can you make promise please? No more.”[/color] He just wanted to hear that much.[/size][/blockquote]

[francois jonathon lucielle]

Everything was moving too fast. It was like time itself was simply becoming something it was not, and Francois didn’t know how to deal with it. Everything was racing through his head and there were almost nothing he could focus on now. It was all such a…such a blinding light in his mind. There’s only one thing that seems to stick out to him, and that was blood. But…blood is so common for him, that he can’t trust himself enough to know that this too isn’t just an illusion. Sometimes life made illusions, and sometimes you believed them. Sometimes it made living hard, but weren’t you supposed to get through that? Weren’t you supposed to be able to just take someone’s hand, and know you could get through it all? Apparently not in Francois case, because this time, in this vanilla white bed, when he reached his hand out he found nothing but more sheets. His hand clumped around them and dragged them closer to his body, before there was another type of contact. He felt a hand touch him, and instinctively he flinched and felt his eyes water some more, but when he looked over he realized the hand wasn’t a hostile one. It was Draven, and he was sitting there, kneeling in front of the bed like Francois was a child. Oh, oh how he wanted to be a child again. How he wanted to latch onto the boy in front of him so hard; just latch on and cry, like when his mom used to allow him to do that. When his mom used to hug him and whisper sweet words of comfort in his ear when he would cry, for even as a child was Francois accident prone. But now…right now, as he sat in this bed, there was no comfort. There was only the dulling sting of the sheets against a few open scars on his hand, and the sickening smell of overly used bleach. Francois let his body move with Draven’s hand for a moment, lying back down, but he was uncomfortable. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be sitting up, but he wanted to.

He looked at Draven for a moment, and when he opened his mouth to speak, even just a few centimeters; nothing came out. He nodded lightly before reaching his right hand over a little, feeling the side of the bed until he found a button. He made a small motioning with his hand for the boy to watch out, and when he pressed it the bed began to move. It pushed up until Francois was in a sitting position, cradled and nestled within the sheets and the bed like a baby being swaddled. He let his eyes wander back to Draven as he spoke, but it was…it was hard to look at him. His eyes kept flickering away, because every time he looked, it was like another hit to the dam. He could feel water building up inside himself and his eyes began to sting, and that was when he just turned his head to the side a little.

“J…j-je…p-promis-se…” It was half in French, but he didn’t care. His accent made the ‘r’ in promise thick, and he had to gulp to keep down the cries that were trying so desperately to escape from him. He took in a few more gulps before his trembling fingers grabbed at the sheets once more, bringing them closer to himself to try and stop the shaking that just ran through his entire body. He realized that Draven needed to leave. It wasn’t fair to make him stay here. It wasn’t fair to have got him into any of this. And so the boy took in a breath and looked over, beginning.

“Vous dev-” He abruptly cut himself off when the sentence begin to form in French. Francois felt himself shake a little bit more, realizing now that his thoughts were also racing in his head- in French. Quickly his right arm shot to the cellphone lying on the table next to him, and with shaky fingers, he typed on it quickly and passed it to Draven. The phone read;

You should go. It’s not fair of me to keep you away from your life.
I can’t speak in English, It’s not…not working.
I’m a mess, anyway, no one should be here.
I’m sorry. I really am.
Sorry.

Francois gingerly let his right hand move up to his face and he began to rip and dig at his cuticles once more, keeping his head angled away from Draven, waiting for the door to shut, waiting for him to leave Francois by himself. He knew it wasn’t fair to want to keep the boy here. He knew it wasn’t fair to want anything from him at this point, but it was inevitable, for Francois body and mind were working against him. He knew the second Draven left he would curl up on his side and sob into the pillow. He knew it would all come crashing down as soon as he was alone. His left hand began to tremble a little bit more and so he shoved it beneath the blanket, digging his teeth into his cuticles more, but feeling no pain, feeling nothing but the sweet, tangy syrup dripping onto his tongue once more.

Everything had finally shattered to nothing.

[/size]

[draven cole arrow]

Draven kept steady as he felt Francois flinch from his touch. It was a reflex that Draven understood, and he wasn’t going to make it worse by pulling his hand away. Francois needed to listen to Draven. Draven was only trying to help. He was helping to his full extent, and that was as much as he could do. And in kneeling, Draven was in no way trying to patronize Francois. He wasn’t trying to be condescending. He was simply trying to get down to his level in the least ‘I’m better than you’ way possible. Make it a bit more personable. Draven was like a robot at times, but hospitals changed a lot of things. They made him feel fucking uneasy as hell…and a bit more sympathetic. But Francois didn’t seem to be getting that Draven was trying to relate. He was just acting like A. He didn’t care, or B. Draven was just making things worse or not really helping. That would definitely lead to Draven stopping any trying he might’ve been doing. There was only so much he could do until he decided that no one in the situation thought it was worth it, you know? Now it was like both boys were on different pages – Draven following doctors’ orders and Francois fighting them with some stubborn resistance. Watching as Francois seemed to want to say something but Draven didn’t hear a sound, Draven shook his head a bit. Francois didn’t really have to say anything, he just had to agree. He had to promise. Draven didn’t want anymore stress for either of them. Francois barely had any nerves left, Draven was sure. And Draven was being driven to his wits end. It was just something they had to put in the past, behind them. Sure, this would be something hard to forget, but they had to manage it somehow.

Moving out of the way just a bit as Francois wagged his hand, Draven watched as Francois improvised. Well, that was something. They weren’t spies in training for nothing. Draven kept his eyes on Francois’s face. He wondered what he did now…what wrong he’d done to the point where Francois couldn’t even look him in the eye. Did it have to do with Francois’s personal feelings again? This was getting a bit ridiculous. Listening as the boy tried to speak again, Draven was a bit confused as half of it came out in French. But he at least understood. Francois was agreeing. Draven let out a small relieved breath, though Francois didn’t seem to be done. Looking to the boy’s hand as it shook, Draven reached out slowly, letting his hand slowly wrap around Francois’s wrist, the one without all of the hook ups attached to it. And he squeezed it gently. It was some kind of rendition of his promise. Draven was still planning on going through with what he said he was going to. He wouldn’t do it here – not with Francois unable to move. And anything but real hugs were just awkward. Car hugs were awkward. Sitting hugs were awkward. Really, Draven was trying to get over that mentality that ALL hugs were awkward. Draven’s brows furrowed a bit as Francois tried to speak again. Besides what the French boy had already said, Draven couldn’t understand anymore. As Francois’s hand shot out for his phone, Draven pulled his hand back, wiping it slowly on his pants in a bit of an apprehensive way. Now what did the boy have to say? Why couldn’t he say it in English? Didn’t he remember his English? His English was better than Draven’s, for crying out loud. Surely he could’ve said what he had to say instead of taking the time to type it all out…

But Draven took the phone as it was handed to him, reading it over slowly. He frowned at the first sentence. Didn’t Francois get it? That’s now how being friends worked. But if Francois really wanted Draven to leave, he would. He wouldn’t stay where he had already prolonged his welcome. Well…now that he was unwelcome. Or…he didn’t know, this entire day had been confusing and exhausting. Draven shook his head, handing the phone back and standing slowly, looking down at Francois. ”No more apologizing. I’ll um…”

[/color] He watched Francois launch into yet another nervous habit, and it really hit Draven that he couldn’t do anymore. His voice grew a bit rough. ”I’ll see you at school. Because you will be going back.”[/color] He took a breath, shaking his head a bit, turning around and heading out of the room. He was due for a long smoke of an entire pack of Marlboros. They were screaming his name from his pocket. But first thing was first. Asking to use a phone, Draven called the school, informed them on a few things as best as he could, them sending over a car to come and get him…but he also requested the car bring someone with them. If he couldn’t help, there was obviously someone else who was the better candidate. Waiting until the car pulled up to the front, Draven said nothing, simply slipping the visitor a piece of paper with the room number on it, sliding into the back seat, and waiting for the driver to start off back to the school. It was going to take a lot to clear his mind out this time. Hopefully Francois held his end of the bargain and actually tried. Because if anyone would help him out…Draven was sure that Celeste could. He looked out the window as the girl walked in, before the car drove away.[/size][/blockquote]

---

Tagged now: Celeste Miura

[celeste lauren miura]

Outfit

Celeste had been busy all day, working on making all of her classes, catching up with homework at lunch time. Normally she would’ve sat at the table with Adeline…and now Alexis, the new girl she had met the other day in the Martial Arts room, but today, she had work to get done, and she had spent lunch in her room. Oh, she had brought some food up to her room, of course, she wasn’t going to go hungry. Just a small cup of Ramen and a side salad she’d bought in the dining hall. Healthy and light. Something heavy was sure to weigh her down and make her too tired to concentrate or make the rest of her classes. Luckily all of her really pressing classes were in the morning and all she had left were mostly physical combat and hands on labs. She had finished her homework just in time to run to her next class, and she was relieved to say that she didn’t have any more work for the rest of the night. The night to herself. It was exciting, really. She hadn’t been able to see a few people in a while. Adeline she saw every night mostly, being roommates and all. And she had been talking to Alexis. There was one person, though, who she hadn’t seen a lot of. Her favorite little French boy, Francois. She was worried about him, she really was. He always seemed to be in the worst shape sometimes, and he was so timid. She just wanted to baby him every time she saw him. And it wasn’t unwanted attention, he seemed to really appreciate it. Sometimes he even returned it. Hugs, little kisses to her head. European people were affectionate people and Celeste wouldn’t have it any other way. She had grown to be great friends with the boy. Maybe that was how she’d spend this night off. She’d head down to his dorm room to find him and ask him if he wanted to hang out with her, maybe watch a movie or something. It sounded like fun.

Little did Celeste know, she would be hanging out with him, yes. But not in the way she expected. As she was walking down to his room, she was stopped by a student who was sent to find her, telling her to report to the Headmistress’s office. Frowning to herself, Celeste had made the trip, only to be informed that her own darling little Francois had been hospitalized and required her attention. Well, of course Celeste wasn’t going to object to his wishes of wanting to see her. Of course she didn’t know that he wasn’t expecting to see her. She didn’t know the only reason she was going was because of another student trading spots with her. After getting a few things and putting them in her bag, Celeste walked out to the car. It had started to pour rain. Such horrible weather. Such gloomy circumstances. It seemed too fitting, and that made Celeste pout. Staying silent in the car ride there, Celeste gave in to her thoughts, wondering what happened. She knew she was going to be left in suspense, though. If it was really something so horrible, she would NOT ask Francois about it. She didn’t want to dig up memories about the incident or make things worse for him. As the car reached the front of the hospital, Celeste was surprised to see the silent German boy waiting for the car. She looked to the cab driver curiously…but when did cab drivers ever help? She got out, the German boy brushing past her, and without even realizing it, she found a piece of paper slipped between her fingers. The spy-like exchange would’ve made her smile at any other time, but her mind was preoccupied. She turned to try and ask him questions but he was already shut up in the car. She shook her head to herself and walked into the hospital, the overwhelming scent of CLEAN hitting her nose. Looking to the paper, she followed signs to the room number that had been scrawled on it. And she couldn’t help but snoop…

Seeing a clipboard hanging on the wall near the door, Celeste lifted it off its hook, reading over it slowly…and her eyes widened. STAB WOUND? SURGERY? Her poor Francois! She replaced the keyboard, straightening her bag on her shoulder a bit before knocking lightly on the door, and then opening it to peek in. And what she saw broke her heart. Francois buried in white sheets looking as small as she’d never seen him. She opened the door, stepping in and closing it behind her, laying her purse on the chair and clip clopping over to him quickly, but not too quickly to scare him or anything. ”Oh pauvre bébé! Oh mon Francois pauvre!”

[/color] Her French slipped out smoothly from her lips, moving to fix his blankets like a busy little mother, unfolding the one at his feet and wrapping it around him, tucking him in a bit, careful not to touch any part of him lest he cry out in pain from the fact she wasn’t sure where the injury was. Stopping after she was sure he was set, she moved to sit right on the edge of the bed, slowly reaching her hand up to smooth his hair, leaning in close to him, her voice hushed, speaking in French first because she was on autopilot, ” Êtes-vous bien ? Tout est très bien maintenant, Celeste est ici…”[/color] She stopped herself, shaking her head and repeating in English, ”Are you alright? Everything is fine now, Celeste is here…I’m here Francois…”[/color] She kissed his head lightly. She was like a calm wind after the storm. Though while she came off calm and collected to Francois, inside she was raging. Who would do this to her friend? She was naive when it came to any kind of danger, she didn’t understand. She shook her head slowly, saying quietly, ”I’m going to stay here with you…for as long as you need me, alright?”[/color] She was going to baby him back to health.[/size][/blockquote]

[francois jonathon lucielle]

Francois just didn’t know what to do with himself at this point. He felt Draven put a hand on his wrist to keep it from trembling, and it did help, he just didn’t know how to say it. But then, as soon as the hand left, he felt regret. His fingers reached forward and closed on air, and when the door finally shut tears welled and spilled over. The boy just wanted to go home at this point. He wanted to go back to his mom, because there was no more father. There would never be any more of his father, and this comforted Francois. The thing that unnerved him, was the fact that he killed his father. He didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t want to go to jail. He didn’t want to rot away in a cell for the rest of his life…but Draven said he would be coming back to school. He said that he would see him again…but what if he didn’t? What if the police just came in and swooped Francois away, never to be seen or heard from again? He honestly didn’t know what to think, and at this point he was contemplating shoving bed sheets down his throat till he asphyxiated on them and died. But he wouldn’t. He was scared of dying, having come so close to it…he was completely petrified of it. He was so scared of letting such a fragile thing like his existence slip right in between his fingers. That was why Francois knew he could never do much of anything harmful to himself again, because now he knew what it felt like coming so close to death, and now he knew he didn’t want to ever go through that again.

His mind was racing in so many different directions though. What would school be like? What would be happening there now? Would people look at him funny? The scar forming on his cheek… were people going to judge him yet again? Well at this point, he had to admit that getting judged beat being dead any day. His body wasn’t calming down though, and he didn’t know why. He had distracted his mind away from Draven so his absence wouldn’t completely cause him to come undone, but his body wasn’t cooperating with his mind. His hands were trembling and his head was hurting now. He just wanted it all to go away. He wanted everything to go away. And so he reached down to the side of his bed, and just when he was about to call for the nurse; the door opened. Immediately he froze. That was the one thing that made his body stop quivering, because Francois was petrified of who was going to come through the door. On some level he thought it would be his father. On some level he still feared that the man was alive and going to come after him now, but it was…it was impossible. Francois felt his pulse completely stop by his own hand. Then again it could be the police, just like he predicted. Coming in to whoosh him away to jail where he would rot until he died there. Then again it could have been the nurse or the doctor. He was going to call for them after all…so maybe they were already coming in? When the door finally did open, and someone did come in, it was not who he expected at all; not even in the least bit.

As Celeste walked in Francois felt a ping of joy and relief wash over him, his hands began to crumple around the sheets, wanting the girl to just get to him faster so he could latch on and never let go. He saw the fuss in her eyes as she actually did move faster to him, smoothing over the sheets and what not. He felt one tear drop out his eye as the girl sat down, but he didn’t give her a chance to relax much. As soon as she was sitting, Francois pushed himself forward and hugged the girl, dragging his IV’s along with him. His arms wrapped around her torso and his head buried into the nape of her neck, a soft sob breaking through his composure as he hugged onto her harder. His body was still trembling and he felt like at any moment he was going to collapse. Like everything was just going to hit him hard in the face and he would be no more. His crying was dying though after a few moments, because so were his eyelids. They were beginning to close over his eyes, and his grip was beginning to loosen on the girl as he sunk down a little more, letting his body lean on hers and just hoping- praying she was okay with it. He whispered his apologies to the girl in French before nuzzling her neck softly, his eyes were stinging and his body was aching. Unconsciousness was going to take over in a matter of seconds and he knew it.

He had simply reached his limit.

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