AN: It's over... Weep with me, my Elitz lovers. Weep. Gah, I hated that I had to end it, but I couldn't force it into being longer without completely destroying it. Read, I wrote it for you. For all of you who demanded that I continue what could have been just another pitiful one-shot, this is yours just as much as it's mine.


Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.

Chapter Twelve

I'm Having Trouble Breathing, Tonight I Am Healing

The Door.

Capital T. Capital D.

The Door.

Eli doesn't think he can do this. The Door is immovable, impenetrable.

Clare slips a hand into his. Adam rests a hand on his shoulder.

"You can do this." Clare tries to reassure him with a small smile, squeezing his hand.

"No. I can't." Eli tries to back away, to run. This was a bad idea. Damn Clare and her eyes that make him want to agree to anything.

Adam's hand tightens on his shoulder, holding Eli in place. "Yes. You. Can."

Eli swallows hard and silently damns his best friend to hell with his girlfriend. Can't they see The Door? How can they possibly expect him to walk through it?

"Maybe tomorrow?" He tries to compromise.

"You've been saying that for a week." Adam says, manhandling him a step closer to The Door. When did he get so freaking strong anyways?

"Maybe he means it this time?" Yes! Thank you, Clare. Eli instantly rescinds her damnation.

"He's got to do this, Clare." Adam says, way too mature to be the little sophomore Eli had befriended at a Dead Hand concert. She nods in agreement, resolve hardening in her eyes.

Oh, let the damnation recommence.

Abstractly, he knows they're right. He can't keep holding this to himself because it's suffocating him from the inside out.

But that doesn't mean he's ready to admit it.

Clare opens The Door and smiles at Ms. Souve. Adam pushes him in. Straight through the door, that suddenly doesn't have any capitals.

"Clare, Adam, Eli?" Because all of them have been her office at some point. Family problems, trans-issues, anger-management. "What's going on?" Because they have never been in together.

"We're not staying." Clare says, all smiles and christian-good-girl. Adam's already half way out the door with a jaunty wave and carefree smile. She gives him a quick, comforting hug. "You can do this." she whispers in his ear.

"Hey, Eli..." Souve greets uncertainly, not sure what she's supposed to make of this situation. "Something you want to talk about?"

No. Something he'd rather die than say.

"Kinda." his eyes start roaming, unable to look her in the eyes. Unable to open up. To reveal this gaping wound etched into his being, as real and permenant as the scar on his face.

"Why don't you take a seat?"

Because i don't want to be here.

"Okay." He sits. A chair far away from the counsilor, half hidden in shadows. He wants to hide. He doesn't want her to be able to see him.

They sit in silence. Eli praying she never asks him another question. Hoping he can just sit here for a while and then Clare and Adam will leave him alone about this. Even if he knows they mean well. Even if he knows he needs this.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"


"Everything." He hadn't meant to say that out loud. Except, he probably did. He wishes his voice didn't sound so helpless though. He's tired of being helpless.

Souve's eyes widen, concerned. Eli is always so sarcastic and cold when he's sent in here. The abrupt change is disconcerting, he's sure. She opens her mouth for further questioning, but Eli holds up a hand to stop her. He can do this. He really doesn't have a choice. The weight of it is crushing him.

But he needs a second to organize his thoughts. To make it make sense. To make sure he can reel in all the confusing and painful the emotions rolling around inside his head.

"It all started with a stupid fight..."