Broken and Confused

Creeping upon the halls, Bill looked around as he did everywhere he went in the mental hospital. The place still gave him the chills - and he was really starting to think again about why he came, and if it was really worth tricking everyone into believing he was legally a crazy person. He had been there for closing in on one week, and he still had seen no sign of Tom. It was the worst feeling in the world, being able to feel his twin so close, yet so far away. What if he was closed off in some private room? Or if he was switched out of the hospital when he was put there - no one was happy that they would be in the same hospital, but it was the best in the area, and Bill's alter ego did not find it appropriate to put him in the second best.

Schizophrenia was what he was diagnosed with. At least that's what he lead him to believe. In all reality he was no loon, but a troubled boy who needed answers. He needed to know why his brother, twin, soul mate, had killed his boyfriend.

Tom was crazy, and the latter knew it. He knew he should be put somewhere ever since he first started noticing little things about his brother that he simply shouldn't have noticed. The way his hips moved when he walked, the curl of his smile, how Bill had a different smile for different things. Just. Way too much. So he got into drugs, slowly, but surely. Pot, the gateway drug, really was just that. Until Tom had escalated into things much, much worse. Heroin, Coke, and when he had finally snapped... Crystal Meth. That probably wasn't his best idea. Strike that, it really wasn't his best idea.

Tom fit in well there though, especially since he made the right friends at the right times. The ones who could still get the drugs, even in this place. Dangerous, yes. But if you were careful, you could get away with it. And Tom was careful. He was what he and Darik, the dealer who quickly became his best friend, called 'matinence buzzed'. Enough to get by on, but not enough to get caught.

Entering the cafeteria, Bill went and sat down with his tray. He thought that day was like any other, another wasted experience without anyone there for him. Tom didn't know his twin was here, he was never told, so not much clicked when he passed the mess of black hair sitting down as he and Darik went to sit as well. Bill's eyes were glued to that oh-so familiar figure as he walked by, his eyes widening. He felt a tightening feeling in his chest, a warm feeling mixed with confusion, anger and pure joy bubbling inside him.

Soon enough, Tom froze in his steps and spun on his heal, no way... no fucking way. The whole reason he'd been here for months.... the whole reason he killed the kid in the first place. "Bill?"

"Tom," he barely had time to whisper as he hopped out of his seat. His movements were swift, and before he could even think to stop himself he had his arms wrapping around his brother, pulling him in close. "Tom!" He cried out.

Time moved slow for Tom just then, he knew he was crazy, but seeing people was something new. Could Meth do that? Probably... But it could no way in hell make you feel arms around you like this, couldn't make you feel yourself be pulled closer to another body. And really couldn't make you imagine that scent was so god damn familiar. The scent that just screamed his baby brother.

Tom's arms flew around Bill when time caught up with him, not able to think about anything but the fact that Bill was here. That Bill's arms were around him and his around Bill. But as soon as he heard Darik talking to someone behind him Tom was brought back into reality and he pulled away a little.

"Billa. What the hell are you doing here?" He was told Bill simply wasn't allowed to come see him. And he was in the dining area, meaning Bill had to really be in here.

Bill clung to Tom as if his life depended on it. Feeling those familiar arms wrapped around him, the ones who used to keep him warm when he got too cold and safe when he was feeling afraid, now brought him a mixture of being whole again and a touch of pain. He grabbed onto Tom's shirt, tears forming in his eyes.

Even though all the shit happened, he was with his Tom again and that made him feel happier than he had been. He barely survived without him. He didn't know how he had survived, honestly. He pulled his head back just enough to stare at Tom's face, recognizing all his features, listening to his voice.

Everything that made him Tom. "Well, uhm..." His voice trailed off, eyes traveling downward for only a moment before he locked eyes with Tom. "They wouldn't let me visit you." He said plain and simple in a tiny voice, as if it magically explained everything. In a way, it did sum it up. He couldn't visit him so he couldn't see his other half, he couldn't get the explanation he clearly needed and deserved, he couldn't get answers.

Tom was crazy, not stupid. He knew why Bill wasn't allowed to see him. And even if it killed him a little more each day, he knew it was best. For both of them. Actually, he was surprised at his baby brothers words. If figured Bill wouldn't want to see him anyways. Not after what he did. "Billa..." He said softly, resting one of his hands on the side of Bill's neck. "I would have thought it obvious why they wouldn't let you see me. I'm not exactly... Normal." That seemed like the only word he could use. "But how, Bill? What did you do? You don't belong here."

No. Not Bill. Bill wasn't right to be mixed with all the crazy fuckers here. It just wasn't right. Bill was innocent. Bill was perfect. Tom was the fucked up twin, Tom fit in here. His baby brother should be sitting at the dining room table with Gordon and Simone right now, eating there. Not there.
"I don't care. We're twins, Tomi. If you're not normal, I'm not normal. If you have to be here, I want to be here." Bill kept his eyes locked on Tom's. "It wasn't right not being with you. I was going cra - uh, I... couldn't do it. I couldn't function properly." He stopped himself from using the word crazy, seeing as it didn't seem right to use that term in a mental institution.

"I'm schizophrenic." Bill said, shrugging. "I guess." He cracked a smile, but couldn't let it last long. He was supposed to be emotionally detached, socially withdrawn with a lack of enthusiasm. Some of the negative affects of schizo. It was hard to pretend now that he saw Tom, though. He was so thrilled to see him. "If that's the only way I could come see you, then... that's what I'll be when I'm here," He just hoped Tom wouldn't get offended.

Bill was in denial, he really didn't think there was anything wrong with Tom. He was hoping and praying Tom had a good reason for killing his boyfriend.

Was there ever a good reason to kill someone, though? And if there was... Was jealousy really it? They've been asking Tom over and over again for months why he did it. Just tell us. Then you can start to get better. But he couldn't tell. They'd keep him longer. How the hell do you tell them you killed your brothers boyfriend because you were in love, close to obsessed, with your brother so you got to high off Meth and thought it be a good idea. Yeah. That just wouldn't work.

Bill kept his arms around Tom, letting out a long sigh. "I've missed you so much, Tomi." He frowned, eyes tearing.

Tom sighed, wrapping one of his arms tighter around Bill's waist and the other ran his fingers through his twins hair. Bill sighed at the feel of Tom's fingers running through his hair. He turned his head so his face was pressed against Tom's hand, and he kissed the palm. He didn't know why, but it felt right. Besides, it had to be understandable; he had been without his twin for so long, it was only right to be extra affectionate.

Tom clenched his hand that Bill kiss and wrapped brought it down to his own side. Bill shouldn't do things like that. It fucked with him more. Maybe Bill was crazy, just certainly not the way he was making everyone think. He definitely wanted to kill Tom, even if he didn't know it.

"I've missed you too, Bill." he said honestly. He missed his brother more then anything else. Really, all he missed from the outside world was Bill. "'But you shouldn't've lied. You're not crazy, Ba- Billa. And that's exactly what this place is for." He looked over at Darik, who was staring back at him confusedly. Yeah. Yeah, this place really was just for crazy people. Darik was proof and could tell you about each person here.

"Maybe I am crazy. If people say you are, that means I am. Besides, if you don't believe that I am... I, I am." He nodded. "My brother killed my boyfriend, Tomi." He whispered, a tear finally running down his cheek. "That shit really fucked with my mind," He looked away, wiping the tear away quickly.

He had to regain composure. He couldn't let anyone see his emotions. He couldn't let anyone see him cry or express joy, more specifically. He was socially withdrawn, paranoid, overslept, emotionally detached and randomly laughed out of no where. He showed signs of depression (though who could blame him?) and made up words. Throwing in a hullication and delusion here and there, that was what Bill had forced himself to become around people. Most of them he didn't have to even force. Maybe he really was a nutcase.

"And then you were taken from me. I lost the two people who meant anything to me. You two were my world, my life. That was ripped from me." He shut his eyes. "I'm here because I'm meant to be here, with you." And get his answers.

My brother killed my boyfriend, Tomi. Those words hit the elder twin hard, making him wince and feel the first bit of Guilt he had since he'd done it. He had hurt Bill, on his Meth filled mind the first time around, it never occurred to him. A twinge of guilt though, nothing that made him sorry for what he had done. He didn't care that he'd done it, he was just sorry that he hurt his brother. Even if he knew that he was here for other reasons. He sighed, biting at his lip ring and shaking his head. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Billa. I didn't mean too."

Bill shook his head. Anger and pain built up inside of him, overpowering the happiness that was there because he was with Tom. Tom had killed his boyfriend. He willingly killed him. He did something he never thought he'd do when he imagined how it'd be when he finally got to Tom again.

He unlinked his arms from around Tom, pushing the other back off of him. Not harshly, but he still did it. He crossed his arms over his chest, swallowing hard. He looked down at the ground before returning his gaze to Tom.

Bill let out a laugh, a cold, cruel laugh. "How do you not mean to? How could you have done that, Tom? To me, to his family?" He stopped himself. He couldn't keep talking about it or he would cry, and that really wasn't good. "Why would you want to hurt me? You can't say you didn't mean to - you had to of known it would kill me inside. You're not that stupid." He said, voice cracking.
Tom groaned, putting his hand on the back of his neck and shaking his head. No. Bill had to stop talking, damn it. He wasn't high enough to deal with the questions, not from Bill. He could hear Darik walking towards them but he just shook his head, it was better with Bill mad. Bill would stay away from him.

"The answer to every single one of those questions is simple, Bill. I was high. Really, really fucked up. I'm always high... always was high... Maybe you've never noticed, but I've been high everyday since we were thirteen god damn years old. Only getting progressively higher with every different drug I tried. You never noticed though, Bill. Because you didn't care. You were always with him. I wasn't trying to hurt you when I did it. That's not even on my list of things to do." He just shrugged, his voice holding little emotion. He had to make Bill mad, had to get Bill to -want- to stay away from him no matter what. For both their sakes.

Of course Bill had noticed. He'd even found some of Tom's stash before. He was worried as anything, but there wasn't exactly much he could do. He knew that Tom couldn't be helped if he didn't want to be, and he really didn't seem like he wanted any one's help. Bill let his hands drop to his sides, clenching them into fists. How dare Tom say he never noticed or cared.

"Don't you even try saying I didn't care, Tom. I'm your twin, of course I noticed! I tried talking to you about it when it first started and you acted like it was no big deal, like it was just something normal. I tried reaching out but it didn't work. I talked to anonymous hot lines about it, asked Mom about it saying it was my friend who was doing drugs, I even went to therapists and sessions when I was old enough. I tried everything I could. I stopped hanging out with Kris as much because I wanted to be around you to make sure you didn't do anything stupid." Bill paused a moment before quickly continuing.

"I'm sorry I didn't spend every waking moment with you, but you didn't expect to keep me to yourself forever, did you? I had to share you from the get go. Everyone wanted you. But finally someone wants me for a change and suddenly I'm the reason you go do drugs and kill people? Screw that. Tom, I tried everything. I put my heart and soul into trying to help you. You were just too stupid to notice. Don't dare try to say I didn't care. I've always cared, Tom." He said through gritted teeth, face nearing red and eyes watery.
Tom could feel himself wanting to break down, but there wasn't a chance in hell he was about to let that happen. He refused to listen to anything Bill said though, no. No, Bill didn't. Because Bill hadn't cared. He wasn't too high to have noticed... was he? Was that even possible. Tom closed his eyes as he felt his head start to hurt, he needed another hit... he needed to be completely clouded.

"Fine." He said, opening his eyes quickly and looking at Bill. "Maybe you cared, maybe I was just too stupid to notice. But don't you dare talk about things you don't know about. You don't know why I killed him, you never fucking will. So you'll have to get over that." For the first time ever, Tom was trying to hurt Bill. He wanted Bill to cry, he wanted Bill to be found out, to have to go home, to get away from him. "I'm outta here," he said, brushing passed his twin to leave.

Bill stared at Tom, refusing to cry. He couldn't. Not with everyone around, especially since he was positive someone had to be watching, though he didn't dare look around.

How could you have done that, Tom? he had asked. The answer to every single one of those questions is simple, Bill I was high. Really, really fucked up. Rolling his eyes, Bill let out a shaky breath. You don't know why I killed him, and you never fucking will.

It was nice to know Tom was lying to him now. At least he knew to guard himself around the one person he thought he could trust the most. The one person he loved and cared about more than anyone or anything else in the world was the one causing him the most damage, the most pain. The worst part was, Tom didn't even act like he cared. That hurt the most. He really needed to look up those symptoms somehow; see if there was anything about wanting to beat the crap out of family members. Something about showing emotion... anger... something. There was no way to look those things up, though.

And that's when he realized if the experience he was bound to have in the mental institution didn't harden him, make him learn how to keep his mouth shut and not trust anyone - not let anyone in, not spill any valuable information, nothing would. Because for once in his life, Bill felt completely alone. Even without Tom, he still had that twinge of hope, like his brother had been trying to get better to get out, explain himself and make everything better. Oh, how wrong he was.

Bill simply let Tom walk by, and stood there completely motionless for a while, waiting for it to be clear to go back to his own room. He had a lot of re-evaluating to do. Maybe Tom did belong there.