Too Far?

By cultnirvana


********Chapter Four*********




They began to dress, either side of the bed from each other, back to back. He didn't know what to do. She was his best friend and he had taken advantage of her emotional state.  Not once had he even contemplated that what was happening was wrong, what it would do to their friendship.  His mind had been overrun by love and lust, and he hadn't even had the strength to deny them.

He turned slightly to look at her.  She was haphazardly dressing at a fast pace, her hands trembling.  As soon as she finished buttoning her top, she ran out of his bedroom.

Forgetting about finishing buttoning his own shirt, he followed her. "Mist, where are you going?" he worriedly questioned.

"Er...I'm just heading home." He could tell she was trying to hide her emotions, re-erecting that wall once more which he had broken through years before. The tone of her voice sounded like nothing had ever happened, but her eyes were filling with tears.

"Misty," he pleaded, feeling panic rise within him. "It's after two in the morning. It's not safe out there. Stay here tonight." He tried to look into her eyes, but every time he came close to, she altered her glance.

"No!" she shouted. Realising the fear that permeated her voice, she lowered her volume, and used the apathetic tone again. "No. Don't worry, Ash. I'll be okay." To convince him, she forced an awkward smile to her lips. She began towards his door, but he grabbed onto her hand almost forcibly.

"Mist, please. We need to talk about this."

She pulled her hand away with all the force she could muster. The tears she had been pushing back began to roll down her cheeks. "There's nothing to talk about." With that, she ran out of his door, and down the stairs of his apartment building.

"Misty, please!" he screamed. Within seconds, however, she was out of his sight. He didn't know what to do, run after her or let her go? But his fear made his decision for him. If he did chase after her, and caught up with her, what was he going to say? He had just violated her, robbed her of something she prized greatly. He wouldn't blame her if she never wished to see him again. That would be a just punishment for him. He was a terrible friend and a horrible person.

He slowly closed the door of his apartment, leaning up against it and looked into his bedroom. The bed sheets were in disarray and the several objects that had been knocked to the floor still lay there. He concentrated upon one of the many items, traversingthe living room so that he could pick it up. It was a picture frame, the glass broken. He studied the photograph that it contained, looking past the veins of white that ran over the entire surface.  He laughed in disgust. It was a picture of the two of them, both grinning like the Cheshire cat. How ironic. It had been shattered in a moment of passion, just like their friendship.

He sat down upon the floor, his back supported by one of the wooden legs of his bed. He turned the little pins at the rear of the frame and carefully pulled out the backing so that he could retrieve the photograph. Why couldn't things still be like they were back then? Why couldn't he be ten once again, when the most important thing in life was winning Pokemon battles? Those times seemed so simple compared to now. A time when he didn't worry, nor care, about love, when his feelings for Misty were no more than an innocent childhood crush. Life was just too complicated now, and there was no way back. He was isolated, trapped.

Alone.

He reached his shaky hand up to his eyes and wiped the collecting moisture from them, leaving behind a rawness to his skin. Now, almost nine years of friendship had ended due to a simple loss of control. He was so selfish, so vulgar. He hated himself for it. How could he hurt someone he loved so much for an hour of bliss?

He couldn't sleep in that room tonight. The sheets were still scented with her perfume and warm from their bodies. He left the room, closing it's door, trying to shut out the events of the night. It should have been one of the best moments of his life. He had just lost his virginity to the girl he loved more than anything, an event he had always dreamed of happening. And it hadn't been awkward and short like he always thought his first time would be. It had instead been passionate, intimate.  Amazing. The memory of her perfect body and touch taunted his mind so...

Wrong! his mind screamed. It was wrong, and it's wrong for me to think of her in that way. Every time I do, I betray her again.

He lay uncomfortably upon the sofa, it's length too short for his six-foot frame. He lay there for god knows how many hours, trying to lull himself to sleep, hoping it would at least take this torment away from his psyche for a few hours.
*****************

Misty sat upon the tiled bottom floor of his apartment building, allowing the tears to assault her unrestrained.  What had   she just done?  In a moment of physical and emotional weakness, she had betrayed her closest friend, all for her own selfish needs.  What would he think of her now?

She knew what. He would think of her as a slut, as someone who was feeble, corrupt. He had seen her vulnerable before, but nothing like this. She had never done anything so depraved before, never used him like this.

I'm so weak. I'm so...pathetic. Just a waste of skin. Just...worthless. How can I call myself anything else after I did something so wretchous. If I truly cared for him, I wouldn't have used him like this. He hates me, and I deserve his contempt.

Pausing for a moment, she replayed her words over again in her head, their harshness making her tremble. She hadn't heard words so violent in years. Words from deep within that had always threatened, and sometimes conquered. In shock, she began to sob afresh, pulling her knees tightly up to her heaving chest, setting her head upon them.

After what seemed like an eternity, feeling herself cried out but still quivering within, she stood from the cold floor and exited the building.
*****************

She hadn't strayed from her room since arriving home the night before, lying upon her bed, the sheets pulled up to her chin. She didn't want to move from there. It was her private space, where she could always seek solitude. The soothing blue walls, the colour of the deep ocean, the countless Pokemon plushies that looked down at her from their shelves with their big plastic eyes, the soft double bed and thick duvet. They had always given her comfort as a child when she sought escape from her sisters' teasing or her parents' arguments.

She looked towards her bedside cabinet, and to her alarm clock. Eight thirty-seven pm. She had been lying there for well over half a day, barely moving an inch, barely sleeping. Her stomach kept growling, begging for sustenance, but in times like these she couldn't eat. Food would just make her feel sick. Even the mere thought made her queasy. However, she desired to get up. She wouldn't allow herself to fall into her old pattern.

Pushing her legs over the edge of her bed, she looked down towards the floor. It was littered as usual with all manner of books, anything from the required reading for her course to the trashy romance novel, borrowed from one of her sisters, that she had indulged in after Ash had left her house two nights before. She normally hated that kind of stuff, however, in times of loneliness, they were just what she needed.

But none of those stories were real. They were just flights of fancy, uncomplicated tales of love. They were nothing like real life. If any of them wished to tell the story of last night, those events would have been completely different. After they had made love, the man would have confessed his undying love for his best friend and she would do the same in return. The girl wouldn't have ran away from him. She wouldn't be cooped up in her room regretting her actions, and he wouldn't hate her for her betrayal.

Standing upon her weakened limbs, she made her way past the books and into her bathroom. Placing her hands upon the sink, she stared at her face in the mirror. She had been told that she was beautiful many times before, and most of the time accepted it as a truth. But then, one single insignificant incident would bring her self-confidence down and she could only look at herself with scorn. She never really could understand how she could be brought down so quickly. Sometimes she felt like there were two minds trying to coexist within her. One was the happy part of her soul, which, though not overly confident, was comfortable with the person she was and determined to make her life better. This had been the part that had been in dominance for the past few years. However, the other questioned everything she said and did. It was the pessimist, the one that formulated the cynical thoughts that entered her head, and sometimes left her mouth. It had been the one that had nearly caused her to commit suicide, and now told her that she was worthless and sullied, that she had just driven away the only important thing in her miserable life.

But she couldn't let that element of herself take control again, as it had last night after she had ran from his apartment. She knew that she had done a terrible thing, and that she didn't deserve any forgiveness, but she wouldn't let her life be ruined anymore by that one act.

She turned on the hot water tap, cupped her hands under the flow and splashed the water over her face, feeling the liquid refreshing her mind a little. Patting herself dry again, she once more turned her attention to the person in the mirror, and to a reddish-purple mark upon her left shoulder. She remembered him biting her there towards the end, just before he whispered the words, "You're so beautiful," into her ear. She touched the blemish. It was still slightly tender and raw. She couldn't understand why he had given into her. He had been so adamant about waiting for the right girl. Why had he given up upon those hopes so suddenly? Was his care for her, his wish to make her happy, more important than his own beliefs? Or was he just scared that if he didn't, she would fall back into her old cycle of depression?

But she had felt something from him. Something...intense. If his actions had been just to keep her happy, why had he been so passionate, so tender and caring to the point that she had barely felt any pain? Why had he whispered those sweet words into her ear?

Gently bringing her fingers over the contours of her face, she traced them over the ridge of her eyebrow, down across her cheekbones, ending by her touching lips, just as he had done. Did her really think she was beautiful? He did admit to having a crush upon her when they were kids, and to still believing that she was attractive. If he could consider her in that way, then maybe she could as well. Her fingers still rested upon her lips, she felt a slight smile spread over them.

She brushed her hair, then opened the drawer under the sink to retrieve a hair tie. Pushing many years of accumulated junk to the side, she searched for the object, but instead her eyes came to rest upon a small box. She lifted it out to examine it better. It was one of the old boxes of anti-depressants the doctor had prescribed years ago.
********


Three years before...

Misty glanced over the warning leaflet, trying to read the small, black letters that decorated the thin paper, but they wouldn't remain still, leaving trails behind them as they shook. No matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn't stop the trembling of her pale hands, caused by fear and the weakness that a lack of food had brought upon her. But even if she had the ability to quell that unsteadiness, it wouldn't have mattered. The reign she had once been able to hold over her concentration had long since expired. She doubted she could even focus upon the writing long enough to read those few paragraphs. Slowly handing it to Ash, who sat opposite her on his own hotel bed, she lay down upon hers, feeling it's hard, lumpy mattress over her seemingly over-sensitive body. "Please, Ash. Could you read it for me?" she asked so softly he had to strain to hear her words.

"Okay," he told her delicately. He began slowly at first, reading each line carefully and painfully, constantly altering his attention between her and the paper. Her shaking seemed to multiply as he continued, her eyes shut tight, all of the lustre gone from her once strong features.  As he came to the end of the section, he looked towards her seriously, feeling her tremors come upon him. "Misty, I don't like these side effects. Some of them are really dangerous. I really don't think you should take them. They may not even work, or could...make you worse."

She felt the miniscule window of hope shut upon her, barricading her from her seeming salvation. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them so tightly it began to hurt. Feeling her heavy breathing hasten more than it already had, she struggled to take a full lungful of air into her body, but the tears that were overtaking her just made it yet more difficult. Noticing her distress, he moved over to her side, placing his hand upon her cold, quivering arm. "Ash, what am I going to do? I don't think I can get through this. I feel so trapped...like...like I'm in a cage that has no door. And that I'm going be locked behind those bars for the rest of my life. But I-" Her shaking began to amplify, accompanied by strangled sobs. "-I can't go on like this. I need to get out, but can't. Except...I know of one way to escape."

"Mist-"

"No, Ash," she interrupted. "You've never been through anything like this. You can't know how horrible this is, how terrified I am, how every dawn just tells me that I have yet another day of this to get through. I just want this to end. There is no way I can go on. I'm too weak!" she shouted.

"Misty, you are not weak! Yes, this is hard, but I know, somewhere deep down within you, there is still the Misty I once knew, the girl you used to be. The one that was strong and independent, who wouldn't let anything defeat her. She came to the surface last night. When I found out what you had been doing to yourself, when I cried for you and told you that I cared, she was the one that forced herself to eat, that pushed herself to go to the doctor today. And I know that you can become her again. You just have to try."

"Ash, I can't-"

This time he was the one to interrupt. "No, Misty. I know! And I will not allow you to tell me any different!" She pulled her arm away, moving away from him and towards the headboard. Seeing the frightened expression upon her face, her contracted pupils, he began to concentrate upon his breathing, trying to calm his anger. His anger wasn't directed towards her, it was meant for that demon that had been controlling her in front of his own blinded eyes. How could he not have seen what she had been doing for so long? How could he be so naïve? But he couldn't think about that now. He needed to concentrate upon her, and until he saw the girl he had fallen in love with come back to the surface, he wouldn't rest. "I'm so sorry, Mist. I didn't mean to shout at you. I just can't listen to you say those things. I...I can't understand how you can think so badly about yourself when...all I can see when I look at you is an amazing person who used to have such a vivacity for life." He began to break down once again, feeling his anger subside, replaced by a feeling of helplessness and fear. "I want that girl back...my...my best friend. I want you to yell and laugh at me again. To tell me that I'm dense and...and stupid. Please, Misty." She moved closer to him, her frail mind now wrought with confusion over his actions. He looked deep into her azure eyes, expressing every raw emotion he was feeling. "How can you do this to yourself?"

"Because...it is all that I am worth. I've been told that by so many people, and I used to never believe them. But...but now, every time I try to do something, I fail. Every time I want something, it falls out of reach. Those people were right all along. I'm useless...pathetic. I'll never amount to anything. Why can't you understand?"

"Because I lo-" He halted his words instantly, directing his vision downwards, every ounce of his body desiring to continue, to tell her every feeling that he had in the recesses of his soul, but his common sense held him back. He couldn't say anything. If she held none of the same emotion, it could just push her further over the cliff that she was just about teetering upon. He swallowed his desire with a sob. Bringing his gaze up towards her face once more, he said, "Because you are my best friend and I care about you, just as I told you last night. If something was to happen to you, it would be my fault. Friends are meant to protect each other, and...and...and I would've failed."

Not knowing what to say, taken aback by the passion of his words, she just simply uttered his name. "Ash."

"Please, Mist. Let me help you get through this. I will stay by your side every moment of the day. I'll be there whenever you need me. Just, please, let yourself rely upon me. I won't let you fall."

"But Ash, what about your training?"

"Fuck training!" he yelled, emotion overwhelming him once more. "Mist, there are things in this world that are more important than training. Much more important." He took her hands within his own, squeezing them with a reassuring pressure. "I'll do anything to get my old Misty back."

She felt herself relax a little, leaning into his arms. "Ash, I don't deserve you. Here I am, willing to let myself die, and you sweep in to save me. I don't know what I would do without you."

Pulling her towards him, tilting her head upwards, he softly kissed her lips with a tenderness that made her momentarily forget the war raging within the walls of her psyche. It had been the first time he had been so bold, but he wished this simple act of kindness would help ease her pain, so that she would not only know his devotion to helping her through his words, but through his touch as well. As they both opened their eyes, chestnut meeting aqua, he repeated her words, them remaining as honest and heartfelt as when she had spoken them. "I don't know what I would do without you either."
********


She still couldn't sleep. She had been tossing and turning in her bed for hours, never feeling the soothing drowsiness that normally lead her to a night of peaceful slumber. Those destructive thoughts still echoed in her mind, taunted her with their cruel words, threatening that she would never be able to defeat them. She wished she could believe in the possibility of banishing them for good, but she didn't feel strong enough to perform such an exorcism, no matter what Ash had told her. He had much more faith in her than she did. If it wasn't for him, those voices would probably have already won.

"Please stop it. Please stop it. Please," she pleaded, concealing her mutterings and tears in her pillow. Early mornings like this had always been the most difficult time. The darkness within her mind almost seemed to mirror the passage of the day. When the sun was up, and she had things to do, people to talk to, she was able to quieten it, able to concern herself with other thoughts, but when the sun relinquished it authority to the cold and heartless moon, the silence left her with no distractions. She couldn't take this, but she couldn't awaken Ash. He had already lost so much sleep over this.

She turned around in her bed and gazed over at his sleeping form. He looked so drained, even a little pale. He had been through too much lately, and it was all because of her. He didn't deserve it, and he shouldn't have to burden such pressure. She knew that she wouldn't get through it without his support, but she needed to find a way to take some of that weight from his shoulders. Sitting up slowly, she reached down for her bag and grabbed her prescription. Taking out one of the flat, pink pills, she stood up and made her way to the small sink in the bathroom. She quickly filled a glass with cold water and used the liquid to swallow the tablet. As she felt it pass from her mouth and into her stomach, a feeling of overwhelming guilt overtook her. She had promised Ash that she wouldn't take them, that she would rely upon him, but she couldn't allow him to do that. In the long run, she knew she would feel less guilt this way.

"Mist, what are you doing up?" she heard Ash call, a little hint of panic in his tone.

Horrified that he would find out what she had just done, she left the bathroom and began to make her way to her bed. "Nothing. I needed to us the bathroom...oh, and I needed a drink too."

She audibly heard him sigh. "Oh, right. Sorry. I was a little worried when I saw you weren't in your bed."

Those words hit her like a freight train. She hesitated for a moment, feeling a lump form in her throat, before finding the courage to speak. "You...you though I'd maybe did something stupid?" she asked, her voice quivering.

At her words, he lowered his head, awkwardly studying the knots in the varnished wooden floors, not wishing to utter a word. But he didn't need to. His silence, and the way his jaw had begun to shake, just seemed to amplify the fact that her suspicion was correct. This whole experience seemed to have him more terrified than he had ever been in his life, maybe even more so than she was.

Seeing the affect she had wrought over him, she felt the all too familiar feeling of tears run down her cheeks. "Ash, I'm so sorry for doing this too you. You shouldn't have to go through this."

He stood slowly from his bed and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm your best friend, and when someone is in trouble, it is always up to their best friend to help them through anything imaginable. I'm going to be with you until the day one of us leaves this world. Nothing else has the power to take me away from you." Ash pulled her down with him to sit upon her bed, and then, pulling the sheets over them, he lay down with her, holding her tight in his arms. "We're going to get through this, no matter what. I promise you."

"I trust you." She gave him an honest smile, and then closed her eyes, feeling the drowsy effects of the pill come over her. She finally felt a trace of calmness invade her mind, casting a little light upon the darkness. It was almost like his tender touch could drive those demons away, for a little while at least.
*****************

He still didn't know that she had taken them for a few weeks. She had promised him that she had thrown the packets away with the trash. It had been one of the few lies she had ever told him. She didn't want him to think any lower of her than she feared he did at that time.

Despite her self-made resolution not to allow recent events defeat her as they once nearly did, she knew that this melancholy was not going to be easily overcome. A simple smile and the remembrance of the kind words of one person would not get her through this guilt and pain. But maybe there was a way to make the dark feelings easier to cope with until she found a way to defeat that self-loathing facet. They had helped a little before. Unfolding the flap at the top of the box, she allowed the foil and plastic blister pack to fall onto the counter. Lifting it up, she pushed one of the bumps, allowing the pill to slowly break through it's silver covering. But before it was fully out, she stopped.

She couldn't take one of them. She couldn't break the promise she made to him yet again. It would be like yet another betrayal. She wouldn't allow herself to get through this with drugs. She wasn't that person anymore. She was stronger now, and although he wouldn't be around to see it, she would try to make him proud. It would be her, and only her, that would silence that hatred-tinged voice within her.

Throwing the box and blister pack into her bin three years too late, she put on her robe, and left her room, making her way to the kitchen. She didn't want to eat, but if she could push herself to do that, she knew that would be another victory. Grabbing a packet of rice cakes from the cupboard, she sat done at the table. They were a good place to start, something light and easy to eat. Taking a tentative bite into the first one, she chewed for a brief moment before swallowing. Surprisingly, it had been easier than she had first thought, the sickness instantly passing as she ate. Finishing the rest of the first and beginning the second, she felt her normal appetite return.

"Hey, sis.  You finally get up?" Daisy asked her with a laugh as she entered the kitchen. "How much did you drink last night? Even when you come home drunk, you usually rise from your bed a little earlier than this."

"I only had two drinks," she answered in between cakes.

"Then what's with the gloomy expression?" she inquired, pulling out the ingredients for tonight's dinner.

She stopped eating for a moment, unsure what to say, not really wishing to say anything at all. But she knew that her sister would not accept silence as an answer. "Ash and I...we had a fight."

Forgetting her cooking tasks, she turned her full attention to her baby sister. "Oh. What about?"

Misty hesitated once more. "Just some...private things."

Daisy tried to reach out a comforting hand to rest upon her shoulder, but she felt a wave of awkwardness overcome her, causing her to retract the gesture. They weren't exactly the best of friends, and she knew that Misty wouldn't be overjoyed to accept sympathy from her oldest sister. "You alright?"

"As best as can be expected."

"Okay." She didn't know what to say. She wanted to try and help her sister, but she still felt an immense barrier between them, preventing them to show any such affection. Despite how much Daisy hated it, she was sure that that wall could never be levelled. Noticing the speed at which Misty was eating, she instead resorted to her normal way of coping with her sister. "Hey, slow down. Leave some of those things for us."

She looked down at the packet of rice cakes, realising that she had just finished off more than half the packet. She smiled to herself. She had went from almost starving herself to binging. "Sorry. I haven't eaten since dinner last night. I guess I'm a little hungry."

"A little hungry?"

Misty giggled softly. "Okay, really hungry." She placed them back where she had found them, then grabbed a nearby packet of cookies and a small bottle of orange juice from the fridge. "I'm gonna head back to my room. I've still got a few things to think about."

"Do you want me to make you any dinner?"

"No, it's okay...but...thanks anyway." Giving her sister a grin, she walked back out of the kitchen, heading towards her room.
*****************

"Hey, sis," Daisy called as she pushed open Misty's door open. "I left you some dinner if you're-" She stopped quickly as she glanced down towards her sister. She lay curled up upon her bed, snoring lightly, her arms wrapped around a cuddly Pikachu that wore a red Pokemon league hat. That hat. It had been her most precious possession since the day he had given it to her. Despite the fact that it was well worn and dirty, Misty had always refused to allow it to be washed.

Walking over to the bed, she moved a bang of hair from her sister's face and regarded her features. Her eyes were slightly red and swollen, but a smile decorated her pink lips. Daisy sighed. "You really do love him, don't you? And this is really tearing you apart."

Grabbing the empty cookie wrapper and drink bottle that lay upon the carpet, Daisy made her way over to the bin. But as she was about to drop the rubbish, something caught her attention; a small cardboard box. Lifting it from the bin, she read the label. Why would she have antidepressants? she thought to herself.

She opened the box and looked at the pill packet within. All the pills were accounted for, however, one of the blisters had been popped. Smiling, she placed the box back into the bin and quickly left the room, closing the door as delicately as she could.
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