Okay, Evanescence on the headphones and Openoffice. And I end up with this crap. XD Also if you're confused about his bodysuit, I have a confession. Until recently, I thought that "opaque" meant "see through". -facepalm- Oh and the soda thing comes from a time when I was on very very powerful asthma medication and I had to take the pills with Coca Cola cus THEY WERE SO DISGUSTING.

If you want a personality basis for Ciarian, think of Two from 9. He's practically a Rayman's World Two expy. xD

Chapter title comes from a song called Orchid by an artist you're prbably sick of hearing about. xD

Thanks again go to Mutitoon and Mable. Love the reviews guys, even if I'm writing about a part of the series that ISN'T CANON AND IS STUPID FFS~

Cookie looked...sort of shocked. "No, of course not. I was just trying to help you. I never said there was anything wrong with you. Anyway come on, if we're quick we can catch it before it gets busy." With that, Cookie took LacMac by the arm and practically dragged him into the building.

The waiting room was fairly empty, just a few old people and a whining baby. The trapdoor in the floor was still there, as was probable, but it gave him the chills all the same.

LacMac stared at it and idly wondered how long it would be until he was falling down it.

He was startled out of his thoughts by Cookie. "Look, go and sit down. I'll go and tell the receptionist we're here."

LacMac obeyed, locating the nearest seat to the colouring corner. The last time he'd been here, he'd gotten very bored very quickly, and besides, he liked crayons.

He couldn't wait any longer. He practically ran to the little red table and perched himself on the little yellow bench. Grabbing a pencil and one of the hundred sheets of paper, he started a sketch, resting his other arm in a bent position over the paper, as if to shield his drawing from others.

Which was effectively what he was doing.

"You coulda told me you were here."

The voice made LacMac jump and snatch the paper up, pressing it to his chest to hide it.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." Cookie put his hand on the younger man's shoulder as if to try and absorb his shock. "So what did you draw?"

..."Can I see?"

LacMac blushed harder, hugging the drawing to his chest."Oh, believe me, won't want to. It crap, seriously."

"Oh come on. Have a little faith in yourself."

LacMac sighed. "Fine." He reluctantly handed over the picture. (which for those interested was of Betina) and couldn't help feeling slightly embarrassed when Cookie turned the picture over and looked at it.

There was an awkward pause.

"...Why is she naked?"

LacMac felt his face explode. "Hehe, she's, uh, not. It just tight clothes."

A smile started to play on Cookie's face. "And why is she wearing tight clothes?"

"Uhhh..." He really didn't have an answer to that.

Cookie just laughed. "Don't look so embarrassed, it's not like I mind.". He handed the picture to his scarlet accomplice, resisting the urge to laugh at his expression. "It's good by the way."

LacMac looked down. "Thanks."

The next ten minutes were spent drawing, but this time Cookie was there peering over his shoulder in a way that was extremely annoying; LacMac was just too polite to say so.

"Now sheis naked. Don't pretend she isn't."

"...Actually he a guy."


They were interrupted by a thin reedy voice. "Cookie Levagetto?"

"Come on." Cookie grabbed LacMac's arm, the latter barely having time to grab his unfinished picture before he was dragged away.


"How long has this been going on?"

"Well about a month or so."

LacMac wasn't listening. The doctor had given him a colouring book and some crayons in what was obviously a kind but patronising gesture, and although the teen had tried to ignore it, the urge had overcome him, and he was immersed in a little world where the main focus was colouring a smiley butterfly as carefully as possible.

"And what were the circumstances the first time it happened?"

"Well, I'm not sure, but he could tell you...LacMac?"




"LACMAC!" And LacMac was snapped out of his butterfly-filled daydream by Cookie gently shaking his shoulder.


The doctor repeated his question.

LacMac looked confused. "Circumstances?"

"Were you tired, depressed? When was the last time you ate?"

"LacMac felt scared."

"But apart from that?"

LacMac looked down. "Don't know...don't remember."

Eventually the questions were directed back to Cookie, and LacMac was free to plunge himself back into his butterfly-world, not even stirring when Cookie dragged him out of the room to wait for the doctors analysis.

He was finally snapped out of it (again) by Cookie tapping him on the shoulder. "Come on, we're done. We're going."
LacMac obediently stood up and took his friends hand, and saying their thank you's and goodbyes, they left the building.

"So what did he say?" asked LacMac, noticing for the first time that Cookie was carrying a pale green piece of paper.

"Well, apparently you have PTSD, and he's prescribed you some pills." A pause. "How that works I don't know."

LacMac just smiled. "Still, at least give it try."


The car ride back was fairly silent, apart from the radio. Considering that LacMac was busy drawing and Cookie was concentrating on not crashing the car and turning it into a big fiery heap, that wasn't really very surprising. Eventually the car pulled into a circle of shops including a cafe and chemist.

Cookie turned off the ignition and smiled at LacMac. "There's a café over there. Why don't you go find a table while I get your prescription? We can have some breakfast."

LacMac shifted around uncomfortably. "Eh, thanks, but LacMac already ate."

"Oh come on. You had a cereal bar."

"It's enough."

"No it isn't." Cookie prodded him. "You're still to skinny, you need to put on weight. Besides, you're still a kid. You're still growing."

LacMac looked startled. "Polokus, not any more I hope. LacMac's 6 foot whatever as it is."

A slight...giggle? "Look, you're not getting out of this one. Go. And. Find. A. Table."

LacMac saluted. "Yes sir." With that, he got out of the car and walked over to the cafe.


He was sitting on one of the metallic chairs drumming his fingers on the metallic table when Cookie walked in.

LacMac didn't look up. "Hi."

"You're supposed to check before you greet someone. For all you know I could've been a paedophile ready to make off with you."

Oh don't. He'd had enough experience with paedophiles.

There was an awkward silence.

Cookie popped a bag on the table.

"These are your meds, apparently. I'm not sure I want you on all this medication but if it makes you feel better than I suppose you need it."

LacMac stared at them, suddenly not hungry. "What's in them?"

"I'm not sure myself. You're only supposed to take one a day though apparently so they must be potent."

This didn't exactly reassure him. LacMac couldn't help worrying.

The rest of the day was spent fairly normally; with the slight exception of that night, where after brushing his teeth (and lamenting over their blatant wrongness) and such like he usually did, he did something he didn't normally and raided the pill cupboard for the little white bottle. Upon finding it he examined it for a short while before shrugging, emptying a pill into his hand, and downing it with the water from the tooth mug.

Okay, next time he'd try soda. That was disgusting.

And with that thought in his head, he climbed into bed and almost immediately fell asleep.


Waking up the next morning, he almost instantly knew something was wrong. He couldn't quite place what though.

He drowsily sat up, blinking for a few moments, before realising.

He hadn't had a flashback.

There was a little cynical voice in his head saying that he had had one, he just couldn't remember, but the never failing optimist in his was convinced it was the pills, and with a happy noise he climbed out of bed.

And stopped.

The boy in the bedroom mirror looked almost exactly like he did...apart from the rash spreading over his shoulders.

He stared for a moment before shrugging. Rashes didn't bother him that much generally, and anyway they'd fade. With that, he walked over to the wardrobe and opened it up.

The previous occupant was almost certainly a goth. And probably a gay stripper as well. It normally took him about ten minutes to find decent clothing that didn't show too much of everything. Even the underpants were strange.

After much searching, he eventually found a pair of dark purple trousers and a rather strange black lycra top and grudgingly pulled them on.

...Well, it was better than the body suit. Remembering it made him shudder. Why anyone would force a child to wear that thing...

...Well the obvious answer was staring him in the face but he decided to ignore it for sanity's sake.

The music player was switched on, headphones in place, and he tuned himself out of the world and he wandered into the kitchen to make something to eat.

He was about to bite into a nectarine when he stopped.

Oh God.

It was happening again.



He wasn't listening. It wasn't entirely his fault, as he had his headphones in.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, the door burst open and Ciarian stood there smiling.

The sixteen year old sat up, obviously startled. "Sthorry." (the braces gave him a slight lisp when he wasn't concentrating on controlling it) "Didn't know you were here."

"That's okay my boy." The elder gave him a comforting pat on his shoulder. "Just coming to tell you that break was over." He paused. "More's the pity."

And with that, LacMac was pulled off the bed and guided downstairs.

A girl of about six in a maroon silk coat and matching strapover shoes over milky white socks was sitting on one of the chairs, looking agitated.

"Finally. I've been waiting five whole minutes for you." she glowered. "I expect better service and more respect next time."

"Morning lassie." Ciarian was practically glowing, he was beaming so much, as he walked over. "And what can I do for you, huh?"

The girl thrust her feet out, nearly kicking the unfortunate LacMac in the crotch.

"I want my shoes polished." she snapped. "And quickly."

"Yes, madame." LacMac muttered as he fetch the polish and a cloth and proceeded on her shoes.

Ciarian kept talking to her, playing with her hair (he pulled at her pigtails and made dinging noises), offering her a lollipop (she snatched it without saying thank you), complimenting her 'lovely' burgundy skirt and white blouse (her only reply was "I know") and just being generally friendly. The girl didn't return the favour, and sulked all throughout the procedure, only speaking to tell LacMac he was doing something wrong. Finally, a woman who was obviously her mother appeared, and escorted her away.

"Goodbye!" LacMac had called, then as soon as he'd shut the door, he slid down with his back against it. "And good riddance."

Ciarian had cracked up. "May I agree with you my dear boy. Reminds me of a time


Right in the middle of the flashback he zoned back in, gasping. Somewhere along the line he'd squished the nectarine into a pulp, but that hardly mattered as he pulled himself back into a proper sitting position.

"Well." he murmured. "That was interesting."


The rash almost doubled over the next few days.

Each night, he'd take the pills, and each morning he'd wake up and it had spread. Mostly he didn't noticed, being too hyped over the lack of flashbacks (sometimes he still dreamt them, and even had them during the day, but it wasn't as often), but when he woke up that day to them all over his chest he decided to talk about it.

He came to the first person he thought of.

Soon enough he found himself standing in Cookie's room, blushing, and not wearing as much as he would have liked.

"So." he questioned timidly. "Thoughts?"

"...The only thing I can think of is you must be allergic to something in the pills."

"Ah." He looked down, and then shrugged. "Ah well. It'll go."

"Maybe." Damn him and his pessimism.

"Besides, LacMac can live with it. It not irritating, it just don't look pretty."

"Doesn't look pretty."


"Look, I'm sorry, but you need to improve your language a little mo-"

He cut off abruptly and stared at LacMac. "Are you okay?"

He was staring at the wall almost as if he could see past it. His mouth opened a little but no sound came out.


Before he could question any further, the teen's knees gave way, eyelids fluttering, and he collapsed.

He was unconscious before his head hit the floor.

And I shall leave that there because A. It's nearly ten O clock at night, and B I like cliffies.