Time Force Delta Squad: Trapped (S2 Game)

Corduroy's itching was getting worse as he passed through the students in an attempt to escape from the world. His vision began to blur, and then he felt someone physically drag him out from the middle of the hallway and to the school rooftop. As he dropped to his knees, gasping for breath and scratching even worse at his chest, he felt a hand clasping over his fingers to halt their scratching.

"Easy. Curl your fingers in," came a soft, rough voice that cut through his mind, using his own fingers to physically move Corduroy's finger inward. "Use the blunt of your nails if you're going to scratch that much. Saves you a mess."

Corduroy absently took the unsolicited advice, desperate for anything just to get relief from the itching at least a little. He slumped down to the floor, leaning his head forward to try to control his breathing as he continued to scratch with the blunt of his nails. Being uninterrupted from his scratching cleared his head slightly, making him aware that he was sitting on the floor in the rooftop, away from the crowd that wasn't giving him so much as a second look. He swallowed hard, peered to the side, looking at the familiar figure from behind his hair.

The depressing thought of his life ending did no favors for the itching, making him stare down at his scratching bloody hand. He let out a soft sob, clenching his eyes shut and leaning his head back against the wall. "...stop..." he hissed to himself between his clenched teeth. "...stop please stop stop the itching please....!" His fingernail caught his flesh, tearing a scratch open again. "Stop...!"

Galilee's hand pushing his head back down broke off his mantra. "Breathe," the young man ordered. "Fixing the itch comes later."

Corduroy was barely aware what Galilee was talking about, but he followed his directions as he ignored what his hands were doing and instead focused on breathing. He took a deep inhale and exhaled repeatedly, aware enough now that he was still itching but not as worse, his fingers curling to the blunt again to avoid hurting himself so badly. ".....okay..." he let out a shaky sigh, mostly speaking to himself. "Okay....I'm okay....I'm okay I'm okay..."

Galilee leaned his hand forward to ruffle his hair briefly until he tucked the hand into his jacket pocket. He grew contemplatively silent, eyeing his friend over with a shrewd yet thoughtful look. "....who hurt you, Corduroy?" he found himself murmuring aloud.

"...too many," Corduroy whispered. "...I hate it...I hate it so much..." His eyes filled with tears, his scratching quickening. "...I thought it stopped but then mom and dad...they...t...they..." He swallowed hard, feeling a slight retch coil up his chest. "...they.....what...what did I do wrong...?"

"Breathe," Galilee reminded, his eyes staring at the teen's shaking form. "You're talking about your parents again, yeah?"

Corduroy nodded, clenching his eyes shut. "...it was them...I don't....we got into a huge fight....I went through their room…..and just tore it to shreds……yelling was better than them looking right through me.....I found this box on my mother’s vanity....At first I thought they were pictures of me, you know?” Corduroy got out through a choked voice. “Because my parents had to have pictures of me somewhere.....I felt so bad for trashing their room until I turned it over and saw the name Claire 3002 scrawled in my mother’s neat handwriting......”

“Claire?”

“I didn’t recognize the girl,” Corduroy said, “or the house the picture was taken in front of. S-So, I waited for my parents to come home......I could see the scream perched on my mother’s lips when she walked in,” he laughed sharply, “the way it immediately died when she saw what was in my hand.....I was angry at my parents for leaving me....!" He scratched harder, tears streaming down his face. "What did I do what did I do what did I do-"

"Breathe." Galilee slipped his hand out of his hoodie pocket to push Corduroy’s head down again. "Ten words or less between breaths."

Corduroy took several breaths before his scratching slowed again. "...sorry."

"Quit apologizing," Galilee muttered, his other hand reaching up to lightly rub his fingers against his neck. "...it isn't every day I see someone like me."

"...does it ever stop?"

"...not until what caused it is gone." Galilee replied bitterly, patting him by the shoulder. "...take it from someone who's been itching for years. It's hell. Pure, unbridled hell." He looked down at Corduroy. "...do you know the hell I must feel then, Cody...as someone who hates everything, and wants everything to disappear?"

"...agony," Corduroy answered, his eyes filled with tears again. "...that it'll never go away."

"That's right," Galilee said quietly. "Agonizing hell. And here you are. What will you do about it?"

Corduroy was silent. "...it would make the itching stop, wouldn't it?" he said, his voice thick with bitterness and bile. "...no one would notice I was gone until a janitor or something found me. I was...before you came, I was...and no one..." His breath hitched. "...I thought I was an accident. The age gap between Ephraim and I, the way my parents acted like they never wanted me…Claire was my sister.”

“Was?”

“Cancer.” Corduroy spat. “And no one in my family was a match so.....”

So they made one filled the air between them.

“Guess it didn’t really matter,” Corduroy bit out, buried his face in his hands. "because Claire died and they pretended like she never existed, at least not in front of me. They cornered Ephraim and made him promise not to tell even though he was just a kid.”

“Corduroy…”

“I just hurt and itch and I just...I JUST-"

"You want to hurt them." Galilee concluded, his fingernails let go of his friend’s scalp, his eyes softening into something a little more thoughtful. "...took you long enough. You itch because they’re under your skin after all. Well let me tell you, Corduroy...." He made sure the teen was listening. "...no one will stop them. No one did before, and no one ever will...until you stop them yourself."

"...wha-"

"And anyone else who feels like they CAN hurt you," Galilee continued, his hand lightly ruffling at his hair. "I know that with your disposition anyone who hurts you will crawl under your skin and irritate the shit out of it until you MAKE them stop." Eyes locked onto each other, completely serious. "They won't tell you what you did, because they know what you CAN do if they get under your skin. Why would they have any reason to fear you if they did nothing wrong, hm?"

Galilee ruffled Corduroy’s hair again before withdrawing his hand and standing up, staring down at him. "...of course, that's all up to you," he said with a shrug. "I've only had years to know what I'm talking about. But...because I know just how hellish it is, and that I'm not THAT garbage of a person to just let you suffer as I do..." His expression went calculated for a moment. "...remember the offer."

Before Galilee turned around to walk away, Corduroy spoke up. “Wait!” He exclaimed. “About the offer, can....we do it tonight?”

Galilee felt a wide grin creeping into him. The time had come. "Of course."