The Funambulist

Chapter 6: Wrestling Tigers

So, guess who's posting late like usual? [raises hand]

I figured that I owe you all some sort of explanation as to why I don't post as often as most fanfic writers, and my reason is "classic" as well: school. I'm enrolled in an IB school where the coursework is incredibly demanding, and it's super super hard for me to find time to write this story. I'm actually supposed to work on a 4000 word essay that's due, but I figured that you guys deserved an update first ^^ Truth is, I'm not sure when the next update is going to be up (I have English oral exams during May), but I'll try my best to post at least once more before the end of the school year <3 Thank you so so much for always being lovely and patient.

This one is dedicated to kikswrites because well... #mavi (and she's a phenomenal writer and friend too <3)

"Swan."

"Yes."

The unfamiliar woman crossed her legs before him, lips pursed as her fingernail tapped against the surface of her clipboard. She eyed him warily to the point where the boy began to feel discomfort pulsate inside of him. "I want you to repeat what you just told me again. Slowly now, dear."

Swan looked back up at the doctor in front of him, forehead still coated with the remnants of the cold, disgusting sweat he woke up from. He held his head up unnaturally, voice forcibly even as he spoke. "I was here after Johanna left. And, um, this man entered the room – I don't know when exactly – and started threatening me and grabbed my left wrist. I think he put something weird inside my IV bag."

"And did you recognize this man from anywhere?"

He paused. "No."

"Dear," she sighed heavily. "we checked all the security footage in the area. No one entered this room between the times you specified."

"But my –"

"We did a thorough check of your fluid bags." Her eyes darted quickly to Avi, who was seated just behind her with his chin pressed against his closed fists. "There was no evidence of any unknown substances other than what we prescribed to you."

Swan swallowed deeply, a cold petulance rendering him silent and immobile, as if remaining unresponsive would mask him from their judgement. He felt the woman shoot him a peculiar glance at his silence; she eyed him blankly like he was some specimen that had yet to be domesticated, some odd example of experimental failure.

The pained look on Avi's face fermented a mild ache across Swan's heart – it hadn't left from the moment the man had charged in at the clear sounds of distress from his room. He hated it. Swan wanted nothing more than to be okay, not for his own sake, but to rid conflict from those around him; he felt like a child, like some pathetic little kid who had yet to cease wetting the bed. The massive crowd of people around him were but a constant reminder that his failures were as astronomical as he made them out to be. Swan was a shadow that tailed the lives of those he loved so dearly, and for that fact alone, he knew he couldn't forgive himself.

"Is there anything else you wish to tell me?"

Swan suddenly felt an inexplicable desire to cry, though he kept his face rigid and void of emotion. "Not really."

"Are you sure?"

With a small twitch of his jaw and a numb nod, he quietly whispered, "Yes."

"In that case, I suppose I'll leave you be." Chehade began gathering her belongings, but froze at what appeared to be a sudden revelation. "But one thing," she shot Swan a look of mistrust. "Please refrain from foolish conduct in our hospital. Respect goes both ways, and Doctor J. Hendricks was put off by the eccentric way you presented yourself before him."