Work Text:
"Come on. Work with me." he hissed, trying his best to move his lid, but it was fruitless. He yelped out as he felt his skin burn. He dropped the container to the ground, still stubbornly sealed off.
"Why does he keep doing this?" he thought to himself. "He knows I need them." he clenched his fist. Painfully.
Arioch had been to their flat just this morning. Elric saw him going around the kitchen and bathroom, inspecting. He knew he was behind this. What for, he could grasp. It started out small, of jars that Elric did not really give much thought. If he could not open them, he just threw them away. But in time, he found his cosmetics shut firm, then his medication. When Elric protested, Arioch denied his involvement, and even scolded him for daring to entertain such thoughts. After all, Arioch had only Elric's best interests at mind. He would, of course, always open them whenever Elric sank so low to contact him for it, but he never failed to admonish Elric for his inability to deal with this issue himself.
"What are you doing?" her frustratingly silky voice reached his ears. Her head peeked around the corner of the door. She had her hair cropped to a rather boyish cut, with a strand dyed red like her lips. Her neck tattoos were now visible. Of his name. He felt oddly uncomfortable, being claimed in this unorthodox way. Not in body, not in mind, but in a sense of his very existence. That he was this essential to someone.
He shook his head, banishing the thought. He held up his medicine container rather helplessly. "I can't open this."
Stormy exhaled. Elric did not like that gesture.
"I'm glad my misery is amusing to you." he said, his ironic statement not quite fencing off his anger.
"Fine." she rolled her eyes. She took the bottle with her smooth, silky hand. She opened it without too much struggle. The very fact awakened the already present resentment in Elric. Of his weak blood, of his dependence on this... this... woman... or however she wanted him to call her.
"How can you not open a puny bottle, I'll never get." she left the room, leaving his to wordlessly ponder at his life. It wasn't that well, but it was his.
*
Elric stormed into her room. It smelled of chemicals and expensive perfume. A painful sting to someone who did not live there.
"What have you done?" his voice was a whisper. He was so angry that he could not find the words or the voice to explain it to her. The very fact that he had to explain anything like this was only adding more fire to his fury.
Stormy apparently didn't understand his frustration. She was reading something.
"What's wrong now." she said in that condescending tone again. As if Elric was simply overblowing things out of proportion. Maybe he did, but he felt justified.
"Don't play dumb with me!" he grabbed her wrist. He didn't care about her startled face, nor if he might break her wrist. Oh, he certainly wanted to do so.
"What have you done with the vinyl collection in my room?" he hissed. His own hand that was gripping Stormy's began hurting, but he didn't care. Physical pain was the least of his worries.
Her eyes changed at that. "I sold them. Since you refuse to be reasonable and get a real job, I had to resort to this."
Not an ounce of regret was in her tone.
Elric's teeth flashed. His free hand rose.
The room lost its form. Stormy's shape began to distort. Into something evil. Something he wanted to destroy. To rip apart to shreds. For doing all this to him.
He only saw red before him in that moment.
And Cymoril's screaming, accusatory face. He'd allowed her to suffer in his stead, and now he'd allow the woman who sent her to the institution to touch her precious gifts she'd given to Elric? The vinyls themselves were nothing, he admitted to himself. They barely worked properly. But they were his. Something he shared with Cymoril before, when things were all well. And now they were gone.
He had nothing.
- - -
He regained consciousness when it was already dark. His hand still hurt. Had he actually exacerbated himself to the point he hurt himself?
Had he hurt her as well? He didn't know, as she was nowhere to be found.
*
He felt her hands on his throat. He remained calm. This was nothing new. They'd done this before. He'd let her.
Her hot breath was full of intensity and passion, as she savored his reactions more than the sensations. He always found it rather creepy.
Suddenly, the hands tightened, beyond what he could tolerate. He felt his breath catch in his throat. His chest failing to raise, his lungs being left on their own. He did try to resist the urge to intervene, but when the room started to spin, his hands flew to hers by sheer instinct.
Stormy seized her movements upon his frail body. Elric suddenly felt fear, not of potentially dying, but for daring to disturb her pleasure, which unfortunately was most efficient when he was suffering.
"You're not dying, Elric." she said, coldly.
Elric gasped. Her fingers were not loosening.
"---can't ---breathe." he whimpered, his vision growing blurry by the second.
"Yes you can. Quit whining." she said dismissingly, resuming her movements.
"Please." he begged.
She did not listen.
"Please!" he repeated.
She squeezed his throat "Shut up, already!" her voice was an ominous ring in the dark room. Elric's eyes were already wide open, but he felt so powerless, so alone. So unloved.
He felt grateful that he lost consciousness at that moment.
He woke up later to a sting on his cheek. He carefully sat up in his bed. He was still naked, exhausted, and his throat still hurt. He limped to the mirror on the wall. In the morning light he saw his face. It was like looking at a stranger. His eyes were hollow and bloodshot, his neck had marks upon it, some were fresh, and the others were a faded, ugly color. His cheek was red. She'd actually slapped him while he was out cold...
He felt sick to the thought. Did he matter so little to her that him almost dying (again) was an inconvenience to her?
He even noticed his lips were swollen and had a puncture wound to them. He rushed into the shower, to wash her off himself. The shower was loud, thankfully, as he felt safe enough to lean face first into the wall and start sobbing. He looked at the small shower shelf containing the necessary cosmetics he used. The expensive shampoo she bought him, the conditioners, body lotions, the razor blade...
He looked down at his shaking hands. His wrists were decorated with scars that he tried to hide from the public through long sleeves, bandanas and chunky, heavy bracelets. He stared at the blade, as if it contained all the secrets of the universe that were purposefully denied to him.
He reached out to it by sheer impulse, but ended up accidentally knocking it over. It landed unceremoniously at his feet, washed away by the running water over to the drain.
The hot water did not help him. He still felt dirty. He left the razor blade at the shower floor. He'll just pick it up later. He left his bedroom rather cautiously. But thankfully he didn't hear any noise in the flat. She must have left before he woke up. He went into the kitchen.
Something was set on the table. Breakfast. Still warm. And a little black rose. He picked up the flower. To its hem, a small note was attached. He inspected it.
For my champion.
Stormy.
P.S. The boss meddled with your meds again. I loosened the lids.
Elric didn't like the fact that his lips curved upwards. But they did. And he hated that he liked it. Because it was not enough for him. But he kept telling himself it was. Because he had nothing else.
*
She'd cornered him at the dimly lit parts of the club. Where seldom people go anyway. She'd showed the joint in his mouth, forcing the burning smell of Chaos in his nose. His pupils dilated. He needed more, even if he knew he shouldn't take more. He needed to take his medication, and mixing Chaos with it was a bad decision.
Stormy's lips curved into a devious smile. She was really good at baiting him. She had to make him work for it.
Elric let her bite his neck, leaving puncture wounds on it. It still hadn't healed properly from her assault on it. He wondered just how it was possible that her teeth were that sharp. Or maybe his skin was just that sensitive...
She then pulled his jacket collar and forced him to kiss her. Elric felt the unmistakable taste of pure Chaos in her mouth, now entering his. He craved it, though he knew he had to resist. The last time he mixed, he ended up in the ICU. If she could just let him this one time...
But she did not yield. She held his jacket firmly, almost puncturing holes in it with her jagged nails. He felt the drug almost sliding down his throat. He moaned, now actually alarmed. He was out of options. He had to either react quickly, or suffer the consequences.
"Stormy." he tried to speak. "I don't want anymore."
She mumbled something, once again trying to pull him back so she could feed him more Chaos.
"NO!"
He pushed her away, spitting what remained of the drug. He still felt the sting in his throat. Some had entered his system in the end. But he figured it wouldn't be sufficient enough to cause harm when he took his medication.
"I said no!" he yelled out, his own voice sounding too loud even for him.
Stormy stood there, frozen for a moment. Elric felt cold all of a sudden.
Then she shoved him back into the wall. He felt his head hit a pipe.
"What are you doing?" he demanded, but a slap shut him up.
Then she slapped him again. All reason had left him. He simply stood, frozen.
Then, she slapped him a third time. This time, he cried out in pain. The sting from a few days ago resurfaced again. He doubled over in pain, his headache progressively getting worse.
She just watched him, he knew it. He panted, like a wounded, clawless dog. Unable to defend himself. He felt like crying. The drug was already taking its toll on him. The room began to tilt to the right.
But he was still coherent enough to see her attempt to kiss him again. This time, there was no drugs in it. Just pure, raw possessiveness. And he hated it. He shoved her away again.
Big mistake.
She grabbed his hair, and shoved him back into the wall again. Air left him when his back collided with the cold concrete. He whined, an ugly, uncharacteristic sound. He then felt a fist punch him in the gut. He fell to the ground, hurting all over, and the world still tilting.
--- you to defy me ---
He heard mumbling.
Sounds were starting to distort too. He saw golden angels with shotguns and twofaced masks. They bore an uncanny similarity to Arioch. Beautiful, yet willing to destroy him for little more than just amusement.
He watched one of the angels press the barrel of the gun to his forehead, and giggle innocently as it pulled the trigger.
- - -
He woke up in a different room. This one smelled of piss and cheap alcohol.
He heard laughter. The men in the room sounded barbaric. Dogs drunk on beer, the high of the night and gambling.
One of them looked over at him.
"Hey, Lern! Look. He's ready for you!" he threw his cards onto the table.
Their boss, Jagreen Lern, stood up, cracking his knuckles.
"So, little prince, what's that about you beating up girls?" he got into Elric's face. His face was red, feral and his grin didn't match his eyes. This was perhaps the second time of his life that Elric felt completely paralyzed with fear.
"I'll have to teach you a lesson in how to treat women." Lern laughed, pulling Elric by hair up.
Elric then saw the wall begin to leak a greenish liquid in which skulls floated.
He laughed helplessly. At least his hallucinations provided the much needed distraction from this grim reality he found himself in.
He simply focused on the skeletal faeries bearing bouquets of eyes and chains hanging from on their wings as Jagreen repeatedly punched him.
Elric counted three faeries before he lost consciousness.
*
When he woke up, he was freezing. He had no strength to lift himself up. His sight was failing him as well. He had no idea where he was either.
He suddenly realized why he was cold. His jacket was gone, and his shirt was torn apart. One of his boots was missing too.
Elric felt a choke creep into his throat, but despite his efforts to silence them, he couldn't.
He cried. He roared. He fell face first into the dirty floor, still stained with the smell of urine.
He didn't care. He just cried. Like a helpless, pathetic fool that he was.
How could she do this to him? How could she lie about something like that?
He did put his hands on her before, but not this time. Why did she wait to do it? Why did she involve other people into it?
Why did he love her? Why did he love that demon?
He had no answers for those dreadful questions. His mind was failing him. He only continued to sob. It was unsightly. Like the cries of a dying animal.
Maybe that was what he was.
*
It was much, much later that he returned to his flat. He was silent, trying to be as invisible as possible. He knew she wasn't home, but he wanted to erase his presence completely from here.
He didn't have much stuff with him. Just his guitar, his remaining vinyls and songs he had kept hidden.
And his medication. He reached out for one.
It was tightly sealed. As expected.
But before Elric could react in any way, a hand seized the container, and opened the lid.
"Come on, Elric. Let's go." the gentle voice of eastern accent said.
Elric smiled.
"Thank you, Moonglum." he said. Moonglum knew it was genuine.
"We're going to Southeastern Europe. My village may be a tad too quiet for your taste, but I think you do need some quiet from all this madness, don't you agree?"
Elric threw his guitar onto his back. He didn't look back once as he left the flat, his key carelessly thrown onto the floor.
"That would be just perfect."