My Split Conference

Perry felt like a frayed, live wire; pulsing beneath a thin cover of control that threatened to burn away in a burst of energy. Something about this day wasn't right, and it wasn't just the fact that he couldn't tell what time it was to call it "day" in the first place. For one, JD was unnaturally quiet.

Two, he had woken up to a pounding in the room, and his first thought had been to look for JD's outlined figure. Still glancing about the room for what the pounding was, he grimaced as the pounding became in tune with his temple.

The third thing he noticed was that JD was trembling. It was barely felt against his own knees, but it was enough to make Perry look up and try to focus harder in the dim lighting.

That was when the match struck and surprised them both.

Thomas looked at them, his pasty face cast about in the flames of a candle he held. The grin was on his face was calm, almost normal even. Blue eyes sized them both up, and the flash of metal on the countertop made both of the men in the bathtub sickly nervous.

"How are you two holding up?" Thomas asked casually as he leaned against the counter and lit a second candle.

The candlelight was easier on his eyes then the harsh florescent lighting, but still made JD a little uneasy as he looked over to Perry's direction. Perry only shrugged, trying to convey that it was probably best to say nothing at this point.

"Come on now, guys," Thomas said as he crossed his arms. "You're being rude. Rude is being weak, and being weak is unforgivable."

"Forgiveness is a pretty broad topic, Thomas," JD said as he finally struggled to ignore Perry's looks. It earned him a sharp nudge in the hip from the other man.

Thomas looked at him. "My name's not Thomas. And forgiveness doesn't exist, not for you two."

"Maybe we can talk some about it," JD said as casually as his shaking body would allow. "What can I do to earn your forgiveness?"

"Nothing," Thomas said simply. "You two are useless pieces of baggage on me right now that I have to take care of. The least you two can do now is provide me with entertainment and fun."

"Haven't we been?" JD went on. "You've been watching us. And if your name's not Thomas, what is it? Your chart said…"

"Forget the goddamn chart," Thomas spat at him. "That fucking chart doesn't know shit about me or my life."

"Why don't you tell me?"

"You don't want to help," Thomas replied easily. "And you're just trying to talk me down so I don't hurt your boy-toy."

"You don't have to hurt anyone."

"Yeah, I do."

"Why?"

Thomas's eyes gleamed with the candlelight, the blue darkened to a strange shade. "Because I want to."

"But you…"

"I'm done talking. You're boring." He looked witheringly over in Perry's direction. "What about you, Petey? Anything interesting from your end or are you just going to be the same little bitch you always were?"

Perry opened his mouth.

"Wrong answer."

Sharp, hot pain thrust itself over his face as Thomas threw his fist hard into Perry's temple. He leaned down beside of the bathtub and wrapped long fingers into Perry's curly hair.

"Did you really think I meant for you to talk, Peter?" Thomas hissed into his ear, hot breath raising goosebumps over Perry's neck. "I don't want to gag you again, that thing probably tastes awful by now."

"You asked if…"

Thomas viciously yanked Perry's hair back. "If you insist." He brought another hand up to pull the dirty cloth back into Perry's mouth, tightening it sharply. "I've only got two rules for you, Peter-Pumpkin Eater."

Perry gagged slightly at the taste of the gag in his mouth, and fervently hoped (he never prayed) that he wouldn't vomit again.

"Are you listening, Petey?" The hand jerked at his hair again. "Two rules."

Perry nodded reluctantly to indicate that he was listening as his stomach rolled hard.

"Rule one is that you don't talk ever. And I'll know if you do; I can hear you two. You're not allowed to talk. There are always consequences for breaking the rules, and I don't think you want your girlfriend over there to get any more hurt then necessary."

Fear flashed hard across JD's mind. Thomas didn't indicate whether he was going to hurt either of them any more then he had, but both men knew with a sinking hope in their chest that it was likely that Thomas wasn't done yet.

"Rule number two is you always listen to me. If not, Tommy-boy is the one that'll pay."

Thomas suddenly released Perry's head. In surprise, Perry felt his neck hit the lip of the bathtub as the man swept himself to his feet and headed in JD's direction.

Reluctantly, JD's body gave into a timid fear as he instinctively shrank away from Thomas's pale slender hand.

Still, JD could only push himself away so hard, and whimpered when Thomas's hand wrapped itself around his neck. JD felt Perry's legs stiffen beside of him as the man struggled to sit, but stopped with a look from Thomas.

"And I've got two rules for you, Tom Thumb," Thomas went on, fingers pulsing with power as he felt the wild pulse beneath JD's skin. "You don't talk either. You two talk too much, and it's annoying. You're not getting out of here. But I imagine you know that by now, don't you?"

When JD didn't move, Thomas shoved against his throat hard. The effect was that JD’s throat was pinned hard to the ceramic of the tub in the back, and Thomas’s hand was effectively cutting his airway completely against the front of his adam’s apple.

JD gagged immediately, his hands trying to rise even though he knew they were bound.

"You know you’re not going anywhere, right?" Thomas asked, and the laughter that lined his voice was frightening.

JD nodded desperately, shoulders shaking in an effort to free his hands.

Thomas’s hand relaxed, and JD gulped air in hurriedly.

"You two really do talk too much," Thomas went on, tracing his fingers against the pale throat. He watched the pulse beat hard in JD’s neck, and noted that Perry’s face had gone white again and that his chest heaved with heavy breathing. "But we’ve taken care of that."

Thomas stood again, releasing JD’s throat completely. The hand drifted through JD’s dirty hair though before he walked away and looked at the two of them.

"I’ve not forgotten, Tom Thumb, quit shaking," Thomas went on amusingly. "I still have a second rule."

Perry looked up sharply. If nothing else, the biggest mistake anyone thought of the insane was that they were unstable somehow. Quite the opposite rang true. The insane were often some of the most symmetric, predictable people in the universe once understood.

It was odd for Thomas to be different, and that made the nausea grow hard.

"You two move around so much in this room," Thomas went on, tapping the knife against the countertop. "You’re not allowed out of the bathtub anymore. Move around if you want, I suppose. But don’t get out of that stupid tub. I put you there for a reason, and I need to sleep too. After all, you guys make such a ruckus getting in and out. It’s annoying. And I don’t like annoyances."

Perry nodded before he could help it, wishing he could slip the tight gag from his mouth. It tasted putrid and acidic, and was beginning to make him want to throw up all over again.

Thomas clapped his hands excitedly once. "Now that we’re done with that part of it. I have plans."

JD and Perry stared at each other, wondering which one was going to be yanked up first.

The dread and horror was immediate in his blood, and he shut his eyes tightly as Perry was jerked away from the bathtub and shoved into a crumpled heap on the ground.

"I’ve been busy, Tom Thumb," Thomas went on conversationally. "I’ve been busy building."

JD looked at him, mouth drawn tight into a line. He knew if he spoke, things would only be worse. Still, statements ran through his mind like dirty water. They flowed easily enough, but were too cloudy for JD to know they’d do any good.

Perry felt a hard scream of relief as his hands were suddenly released from behind his back. His arms came forward and instinctively went for Thomas’s throat.

Thomas chuckled at that, and only shoved him back down to the ground. "If you hurt me, I’ll hurt him. And you know that I will."

Perry still struggled as Thomas bound his hands in front again.

"That’s going to cost your friend, you know," Thomas mentioned.

Perry sighed hard inwardly. It’d be a hell of a lot easier if it’d just been him. If it’d just been himself he had to think about, he’d have fought harder. But even his subconscious knew that the harder he struggled, the worse he’d hurt the kid. He let his arms relax as Thomas wound the nylon cording around his wrists again.

Thomas looked at something on the wall with curiosity as he compared something to Perry.

"Looks about right," Thomas finally said, and raised Perry’s arms above his head.

Perry suddenly felt the nylon cording catch on something and hang there as Thomas used the hammer to beat something. When Thomas pulled away, Perry pulled at his bonds.

His wrists were hooked to the wall. Even as Perry let his body relax, he suddenly realized that relaxing put his knees just an inch from the ground. His toes were already beginning to ache from supporting most of his weight, and he knew his ankles wouldn’t like it much more.

The immediate following thought was that he had to keep the circulation in his hands. To do that meant balancing himself on his ankles, toes, or flat feet at any given time.

As in shape as Perry knew his body was, he also knew he was weaker then usual from hunger and dehydration. That meant his stomach muscles weren’t going to take to him supporting himself with flat feet.

Thomas looked at his work appreciatively. "I judged your height pretty well, don’t you think?"

Before Perry could think of whether or not he was supposed to nod, Thomas was moving again to the bathtub.

"Tom Thumb," Thomas said casually as he sat on the lip of the bathtub.

JD turned fearful eyes towards him.

The frightened pale face and terrified blue eyes that met his gaze gave Thomas a surge of power again as he stared down.

"I don’t guess either of you know why I like blood," he mentioned casually as he rose from the tub and picked the knife from the counter. He spun it once in his hand in a fluid, quick fashion. "It’s the fluid of life, the essence of vitality. It’s living and dying. Without it, your body is unable to function."

JD listened as he watched Thomas play with the knife. Thomas’s arms and skin seemed thick and scarred in the candlelight, and it made Perry wonder what had gone on in the man’s past.

"My father liked blood," Thomas went on idly. "My real father, anyway. He was a bastard. But they’re all dead."

Perry frowned at the plural, but still tried to work the gag from between his lips. His tongue was getting dry, and though he’d grown used to the taste, it wasn’t making him any less sick.

"It’s blood," Thomas finished, interrupting both their thoughts as he sliced a neat line down the middle of Perry’s t-shirt. It came open, revealing the ugly, dark gashes across the man’s stomach. It was dried, and flaking where it hadn’t coagulated to a goopy texture.

JD stiffened in the tub, itching to get out as Thomas trailed the knife slowly across Perry’s chest without breaking skin.

"Oh, Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater," Thomas said softly, and his voice held an inhuman quality that seemed devoid of mortality. He stared with odd eyes at Perry, as if he were looking through him.

JD moved slightly, wondering how fast he could move from the tub to the floor. Something terrible was clawing at his chest, warning him that Thomas wasn’t going to stay calm for long.

Thomas let the knife clatter to the floor suddenly and slammed his hands to either sides of Perry’s head. Hot air trickled over Perry’s cheek.

"You think you’re so great," Thomas hissed harshly. "You think you’ve got it all. You’re nothing. You are nothing. Everyone looks at you, thinks you’re so cool, thinks you don’t let anything get to you."

Perry felt little at the words. He’d told himself the same often enough.

"When I know the truth," Thomas went on when he received no reaction. "All you’re going to do is become some sad old man, losing himself in what could’ve been because you’ve lost everything that could’ve put you there. You’re just going to drink yourself to death and look back and wonder why no one bothers to come see you in a raisin farm. You’re going to be just like Dad, and beat down whoever makes you feel something."

Those words did hit, but Perry still didn’t change his facial expression.

Until Thomas whipped a candle from the counter and stabbed Perry’s stomach brutally with the flame.

The fire extinguished immediately, and before he could help it, Perry let out a yelp of pain. Before the sharp sting had faded, Thomas brought up the other candle and stabbed him with it. Again, the flame went out simultaneously.

JD jumped in the tub and began to rise.

Thomas whirled his head around. "And you, you stupid pansy fucker. See what happens if you get up; it’ll be so much more worse then you could ever imagine."

JD sat stock-still in the basin, eyes flicking to Perry’s as Thomas re-lit a candle. If Perry’s expression hadn’t been so white and pained, JD might have stayed still.

Despite the glare from Perry, JD began to get to his soggy knees.

Thomas laughed sharply and jerked JD up by the collar to throw him to the ground. He kicked hard against JD’s slender stomach, delighting in the gagging whimper that he drew from the man in the ground.

"Your funeral, Tom Thumb," Thomas said, his words falling like acidic drops of poison over JD’s ears. He pulled JD to his knees and dragged him over to Perry.

When JD managed to open his eyes, they were level with the deep cuts along Perry’s stomach and a knife was laid over them. JD could make out the two new, circular burn marks nearby.

Thomas suddenly sliced across Perry’s stomach, running over the old cuts and new burns. Blood rose to the surface and made a scattered trail as it dripped down the skin. The bound man against the wall choked on a scream as the knife dragged over the skin and caught on tissue. A rough sound escaped from the back of his throat as Thomas’s knife drew patterns and letters.

Dimly, Perry thought he heard JD make a noise of protest, but then the knife pressed harder. Before Perry could help it, a frantic gasp of relief pushed from his lungs as the knife was pulled away. With the ease of pain, however, came a white-sheet of panic as Thomas moved in JD’s direction.

JD felt fingers bury themselves in his hair as Thomas shoved his mouth to the wounds.

"What does it taste like, Tom Thumb? Does it taste like medicine? Does blood have a song?"

JD muttered something against Perry’s skin, but it wasn’t coherent as he struggled to spit out the coppery substance. With a mouth covered and stained with blood, JD felt Thomas yank him to his feet again.

"Let him taste it, Tom Thumb. Peter Pumpkin Eater wants to savor it too," Thomas said, his voice shrill with gleeful amusement and something akin to arousal.

JD glared at Thomas, and then turned fearful eyes to Perry.

Perry grimaced against the new stinging in his stomach and tried to ignore the look of JD’s bloodstained mouth. Still, he suddenly felt wet, trembling lips shoved against his own as a metallic liquid found home in his mouth.

Thomas clapped as he released JD to the ground and tapped the knife against the countertop again. He kneeled down and licked the remaining blood from JD’s lips.

"Tastes like power and life," Thomas mentioned, his voice thick with something JD nor Perry could identify. He pulled the knife across JD’s cheek, a long line of redness coming after it.

JD winced against the tingling pain in his cheek as a long cut was drawn there. Thomas pushed him to his back.

"Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater…had a Tom Thumb and couldn’t keep her," Thomas said as he cut open JD’s shirt.

Perry groaned against the rag, struggling to form words when Thomas brought the knife to JD’s pale chest.

Thomas glared at him. "You can watch. I think you’ll like it." The knife drizzled over JD’s chest and words slowly formed over it again to read "Petey".

JD cried out when the knife sliced deeper through the skin, sliding painfully over his chest. He stared in Perry’s direction, but when he was met with an equally horrified look, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to put himself as far away from it as possible.

Flying was easy enough, and the blue skies were easy to remember. Even so, the air was cold and hurt his lungs.

Thomas stood and pressed the flat blade of the knife against Perry’s mouth. "It’s like a happy drink of youth," he said, tongue running over the knife against Perry’s lips.

JD writhed on the floor, struggling to get away from the stinging burn of pain that ran across his body. It didn’t go ease, no matter what he tried to think of.

Perry pulled away from the knife and Thomas as best he could, but it wasn’t by much.

"Remember the coppery kiss of my dreamless knife," Thomas whispered, the knife’s edge trickling down Perry’s chin.

Without warning, the candles were blown out, and something was pulling near Perry’s wrists. All at once, Perry felt his body cry with relief as his face met the floor near JD’s feet.

"Get in the tub," Thomas said calmly. "Both of you. And I’ll know if you talk or move. I wouldn’t if I were you," he finished in a sing-song type of voice. "Tommy knows everything."

The door slammed shut, and the familiar tune of metallic locks sounded. Amused laughter rang from the door, and something drummed against it. By listening, it sounded as if Thomas was tapping his fingers rhythmically against the wood again.

Perry now had his hands in front of him, which made things infinitely easier. He propped himself up on his fists even as the acrid tastes of blood and vomit stained his tongue. He reached up and yanked down the gag.

"You okay, Newbie?"

The nickname did make JD stiffen this time, and as JD looked up to survey the room, he felt more then he acknowledged that Thomas gone.

JD struggled to get to his feet before he felt a pair of hands closed over one shoulder to help him up.

"Newbie, answer me."

"Don’t call me that," JD mumbled, pain racking his body. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he didn’t want to cry. He pulled his knees to his chest as he sat in the floor and rocked.

"Come on." Perry pulled at his shoulder reluctantly as the kid seemed to close in on himself. Even though the acrid hurt still ran through his own body, he struggled to pull JD to his feet.

A couple of thumps later and they were back in that stupid tub again.

Perry didn’t mind it so much when JD’s legs rested against his own this time. "Gloria, are you okay?"

A series of thumps sounded from the mirror suddenly, making them both jump in the basin.

"What did I say about talking? No talking, Tom Thumb and Peter Pumkin-eater!"

Perry didn’t ask again, but instead sat up straighter and jerked JD’s face up to stare at the pale, horrified expression.

JD felt the hope disappear completely when he saw the concerned terror written over Perry’s face.

Trying for wordless speech, Perry let his hands gesture to JD’s chest and then he nodded his head in question.

Half-understanding, JD nodded back and rubbed his face against his shoulder to lift the wet tears from his cheeks.

As Perry sat back against the edge of the tub again, he gave a bone-weary sigh. The cutting wasn’t hurting as much anymore, though the candles had stung like a bitch. The hospital and patients seemed so far away now, and he remembered the last time he’d seen Jack.

He felt his own eyes stinging with tears. He struggled to stop them as the desolation of it all began to settle over his brain.

Perry reached up and scrubbed harshly at his face in anger. He couldn’t cry right now. He was supposed to be Perry Cox, Emotional Black Hole Expert. But still, his heart sank in his chest and he felt like the floor was suddenly falling away from beneath him.

Without much warning, his body did give up and he sagged against JD.

JD jumped in surprise when he felt Perry’s upper body hit his. He was even more shocked when he felt the wetness beginning to touch his neck.

The hope and despair really did sink in then, because if the Great Perry Cox (underlined and shining with sparkling lights in his dim mind) was crying and scared, that meant they were more boned then he’d thought in the first place.

JD shoved the sobs down, but they came back anyway.

Still, Perry shoved back against him and scraped at his face again. His skin felt greasy to the touch and human body odor had begun to filter into the room.

Perry sighed hard again and glanced at the shaking man across from him. JD was crying; he knew that much. But Perry knew he could barely handle his own tears, let alone that of someone else.

Hell, he could barely stand Jordan when she was crying, and…

The thought of Jordan brought back the far-away thoughts of Jack and the hospital. It brought up the question and answer game. Would he ever see Jack again? What about his position at the hospital? Would he even have to worry about it tomorrow?

Fearful panic had him throwing up into the floor again.

JD jumped at the dry gagging noises that filled the air, but said nothing out of fear that Thomas would come back.

Perry sagged against the tub and finally settled for catching JD’s gaze. JD’s expression was concerned and frightened as he nodded his head towards Perry’s stomach.

Finding a sort of common ground in the nodding, Perry gave one back to indicate he was fine. With time becoming more and more surreal by the second, Perry felt the water dripping against their legs again.

Feeling more lonely then ever, JD settled and relaxed as he took the only comfort he could in the form of knowing that Perry’s legs were still moving with even breathing against his own.

Perry sighed hard in the darkness, and gave JD a weak glare that was a ghost of its formal intensity. JD seemed to get the message and nodded, swearing that he’d tell no one.

Slowly, Perry pulled his arms forward and settled a hand over JD’s shin beside of him. JD relaxed more, even though his shoulders screamed at him and his stomach rolled with panic.

The soft drip of rain pattering against their legs kept them awake, and they couldn’t sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Turk stood at the nurse’s station, his body on edge and anxiety running through his mind. It was Wednesday now, and JD hadn’t called again to check in. Normally, Turk wouldn’t have found it odd.

After all, investigations tended to be a pain when out-of-state residents were involved.

Something (Turk couldn’t explain what) was bothering him. He sighed in an almost touchable relief when Carla rounded the corner and settled into a chair to type on the computer.

"Hey, Baby," Turk tried to ask casually, but Carla’s head snapped up worriedly.

"You think something’s wrong too?" Carla asked.

Damn, how does she do that?

"Yeah," Turk finally said after a minute. "I tried calling JD’s phone, and no one’s answered."

Carla rubbed at her neck in mutual concern. "Elliot told me that Jordan hasn’t heard from Dr. Cox either."

Turk frowned. "Look…baby…I don’t just think there’s something up; I know."

If Carla hadn’t felt the same way so suddenly, she might have made fun of him. As it was, when she made to open her mouth, Jordan was rounding the corner.

And something dropped in Carla’s stomach. Jordan’s face held a sick pallor, and she wore a loose, over-sized sports t-shirt over beaten blue jeans. Her hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, and there wasn’t much make-up on her face.

In essence, Carla knew that Jordan hadn’t spent much time getting out of the house that morning, and it was showing. Elliot wasn’t far behind, and she looked as haphazardly thrown together as Jordan did.

Some desperate part of Carla’s mind tried to convince her that the pair were just running late. She knew better.

Jordan pushed Carla’s rolling chair from the computer without a word and began typing furiously on the keyboard after shoving something into the desktop.

"What the hell are you doing?" Carla asked, but her voice was tight with stress.

"Perry’s in trouble," Jordan snapped.

The tension was evident in Jordan’s normally cool voice as she finally backed away from the computer.

Carla and Turk stared in horror at the greenish screen caps from a night-vision camera. It was a small bathroom; barely more then six feet long and three feet across.

Crumpled in the tub were JD and Perry. They were sleeping in some, sprawled across the floor in others. There were no time-stamps on the photos, and one captured JD’s frightened, blurry face staring at the camera blearily. Perry didn’t seem to be faring much better, and both men had a couple of days’ stubble on their chins.

Carla numbly picked up the phone to call the police. Turk stood frozen where he was at.

Jordan stared hard at the screen, sickness and cold rushing over her body. She felt a hand slowly drift to her back and jumped.

Elliot was the source of the hand, but Jordan couldn’t find it in herself to shake it off. She sighed, bending her head down as Carla spoke in shaking tones over the phone.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was hours later when Elliot followed Jordan into the older woman’s apartment. Jack burbled on Jordan’s hip, obviously awake and alert to his surroundings.

Jordan settled Jack on the floor to watch a movie as she mechanically made a pot of coffee, worry and fear still thick in her mind.

"Uh…Jordan?"

Jordan whirled at the hesitant voice. "What, princess?"

"Are you…uh…okay?" Elliot asked cautiously as she entered the kitchen, one ear out for Jack, who giggled at the television.

"Dandy," Jordan replied sarcastically.

At the sharp retort, Elliot didn’t say anything else and went back to keep an eye on Jack and watch the movie with him.

It was a couple of hours later when Jordan finally joined them. Jack was sleeping on the floor, sprawled out sloppily with half-clenched fists and an open mouth.

Elliot stiffened nervously when Jordan sat beside of her. "I was just concerned…you know, earlier."

"I know, princess."

Jordan looked at the blonde girl then. Elliot looked tired too, her hair falling sloppily around her face and circles beneath her eyes.

They’d found out together that morning, and hadn’t spoken more then two words to each other since.

Sitting back a little, Jordan struggled to analyze as she settled a chin to her fist in thought. She knew she liked Elliot enough to go drinking with her, and even hang out with her at the hospital.

But not many people came along who were willing to simply listen the way Elliot did.

Elliot twisted her hands in her lap anxiously. "I guess I should get going," she finally said after a moment.

Jordan shrugged, struggling for casual even though her system was jangling with the day’s events. "I’d rather you stay, Blondie."

Elliot looked at her thoughtfully, her face cautious and timid.

Jordan grinned at her self-deprecatingly then. "It’ll be our little secret."

Elliot suddenly found herself on the couch with Jordan’s mouth on her own. The panicked desperation under the kiss was familiar enough. It was an outlet, plain and simple, but one that Elliot found herself needing just as badly. Elliot slid her hands to Jordan’s shoulders still, staring at the older woman’s tight face.

"No big deal, Blondie. Don’t make more of it then you have to."

Continues with Chapter 6