See My Scars (Dexter! NOT Casimir!), A Casimir free thread XD

[scarlette]

Thinking about it now, the not eating thing hadn't been a very good idea. Not sleeping hadn't helped either. And the masterstroke of drinking nothing but coffee for the whole week was possibly not the best thing for her to have done in her current state of mind.
As a result of this series of brainwaves, Scarlette had collapsed on her way to Maths this morning and had only come to some time later to find herself in one of the blindingly white beds in the infirmary. It smelled like toilet cleaner, she could her the tinny sound of reggaeton blaring out from the nurse's headphones, and to top it all, the lazy excuse for a member of the medical profession was singing. And dancing. And she had a frankly massive arse.
So today wasn't going as well as she had hoped. Still, she didn't hope for much anymore. Despite the best efforts of her friends, she still often found herself thinking about Casimir, and those self destructive thoughts were what had got her into this situation.
A while ago she had come round to the conclusion that there must be something wrong with her for him to have decided to leave her. Now she had finally come across the problem. She just hadn't been messed up enough for him. It was obvious.

Yeah, she'd never met her real parents cause they abandoned her when she was a kid, and yeah she'd then had a set of foster parents abandon her as well. So she had anger management issues, hated most of the human race, got her ferret to attack people for fun, had dreams about attacking small children and setting fire to stuff...
But really that was nothing.
That clearly wasn't enough to satisfy Casimir.
So now she didn't eat or sleep and only talked to a select few people (the rest she just yelled at until they ran off.) She was still trying to come up with something that would make her really damaged, that didn't involve cutting herself or substance abuse. (she'd decided that they were too clichè.)

For now though she occasionally cut off bits of other patients' hair and burned them while the nurse was too busy "shaking her booty" to notice.

She carried matches and scissors everywhere. She was that kind of girl now.

[Matt]

Dexter entered the nurse's office he was covered in blood some his some Caspian's. Dexter wasn't quite shore what to do he was in lots of pain and he didn't feel like talking. The nurse hadn't noticed him and he was just standing there rather dumbly, blood dripping from his left hand onto the floor. If he stayed there much longer a puddle would probably form.

Dexter ran to the nurse and spoke to here, at the sight of him she nearly fell over. After a a few hurried words and a short explanation she rushed off. Her face white as a sheet. Dexter had just left the dungeon scene and was still in shock.

Dexter decided to take his care into his own hands and moved about the room gathering cotton pads from a table then some disinfectant from a cabinet plasters from another and though he was reluctant to do so a needle and thread. He fared he would need stitches and since the nurse was busy he would do it him self. He left blood on every thing he touched and the infirmary had a blood trail on the floor and bloody prints on the furniture. His mother had been a paramedic so he had learned loads of stuff from her.

Dexter fumbled around with the buttons on his shirt, he couldn't undo them because he was shaking and the blood on his hands made his fingers slip. Finally he gave up and riped the shirt off sending bloody buttons around the room. He looked at the gore on his arm and cringed as he dabbed it with some cotton that instantly became soggy with his crimson blood.

[scarlette]

Scarlette was calmly sitting in her infirmary bed trying to set fire to her duvet when she was rudely disturbed by what looked like a button flying out of nowhere and hitting her in the head.
She gave a cry of surprise and dropped her match, letting it fall onto the tiled white floor where it was promptly extinguished. The button had fallen into her lap, and as she picked it up, scrutinizing it, she noticed it was covered with a dark, sticky substance. She wiped it off with her finger and licked it gingerly. It tasted tangy and metallic and not at all pleasant.
"Eugh...blood," she muttered before standing up and walking off bare-foot to find the source of the disturbance.
She found it, or rather him, a few beds down. It was some random top-less guy who seemed to be quite badly injured. Scarlette raised an eyebrow. Ignoring the fact that he was bleeding all over the place she walked up to him, her arms folded, and irritated look on her face.
"Is this your blood?" she asked, holding up her finger that was still smeared with the red substance.
She didn't wait for a reply and promptly added, "It tastes foul," before abruptly sitting down next to him and peering over his shoulder at the wound curiously.

[Matt]

Dexter was utterly stunned by the unexpected aperance of this girl holding one of his shirt buttons. She looked very displeased and cirtanly sounded it as she spoke. Dexter frouned at the questionIs this your blood? then frouned even more when she saidIt tastes foul.
Dexter decided he had nothing to lose and answerd while still moping up his blood. "It could be i really cant say."

Dexter finaly manages to soak up most of the blood he places more cotton over the woond and wraps a bandage round it. He lets out a sigh as he recons he will need stiches. He grabed an already blood splater sheet and whipes his hands with it they had previously been dripping with blood. He whipes some of the blood of his hard stomach and then focosed his attention on the girl.

He is know awere that he is well half naked and that his scar and tatoo would be visable shpould she get a look at his back.
Feeling rather aufel as one would he starts a miled conversation. "So what's wrong with you? Or do yu want to know what happent to me first."

[scarlette]

"I'll go first," Scarlette replied eagerly, as if they were playing some sort of game. First though she had to figure out exactly what was wrong with her, which was hardly a task that can usually be undertaken in a matter of seconds. She decided to give the boy th abbreviated version, she didn't want to give too much away so early in the game.
"I'm messed up. I don't eat or sleep or smile much. That's probably just a temporary thing though. I can't be bothered with it much longer...If you're looking for tragedy I've got plenty of that too. I'm like someone out of a Charles Dickens novel I'm so stereotypically tragic. You can probably guess most of it...I was abandoned by my real parents, then abandoned by my foster parents, then abandoned by my boyfriend."
Her voice became so choked up with an unhealthy cocktail of misery and anger that she had to pause. She flashed the boy a devilish grin and jumped up, beginning to perform a mock cheerleader routine.
"Give us an A, give us a B, and another A, and an N..." she went on, spelling out the word, punching the air viciously where a normal cheerleader would shake her pompoms.
"What does it spell?" she seethed. "ABANDONED!"
Scarlette breathed out, closing her eyes before sitting down on the bed again.
"So yeah. I knew a guy who died too. And now he's a ghost. And apparently I'm a pyromaniac," she finished with a sigh.
"Isn't life fun?"

[Matt]

Dexter looked at her with interest as Scarlette went through a short act where she explained her situation. It made Dexter take his mined off the whole state he was in, she both intrigued and unnerved him. " Wow, well... er... sorry to hear that."
Dexter was laking words he wasn't shore how he should be feeling or reacting, self destructive, abandoned pyromaniacs weren't his specialty.
But he did feel uncomfortable whether it was the fact he was topless covered in blood and bleeding or whether it was because he was afraid of the possible psychotic pyromaniac in front of him. If there were such a thing as a pyromaniac phobia he was convinced he would have it.

Dexter took a breath and then spoke. "Well I guess its my turn to explain why I'm here. Cutting out my life story. I was down in the dungeons and came across some other students, then we were attacked by first this a large shifty man and then a his accomplice some woman. She threw a knife a us and as you can see she greased me, but she got this other guy who I was with right in the side. And know I'm here all bloody and stressed out."
Dexter's voice was a bit shaky he was still having an adrenalin rush but he kept calm as he talked.
He still kept his scars hidden and as he finally patched up the cut he piked up his shirt. but he didn't fancy putting it back on so he tossed it to one side and slumped onto a near by chair. As he did he spoke again in a bit more of a wary tone. "I don't think life's fun however living that's ok."

[scarlette]

Scarlette listened raptly, slightly disappointed that he had left out his life story that was, judging by the scar across his back, fascinating. Then again, she had quite enough going on without having to take on other people's grief.
What he told her now was recent though, it might even affect her.
"Who was the guy? Is he okay?" She asked concernedly, betraying for a moment that she wasn't as heartless as she liked to make out.
The kind of people that hung out in the dungeons were generally her friends, even if she had distanced herself from them lately, it would kill her to find out that any of them were hurt. From Dexter's tone, she guessed that the situation was serious. She had already had one student she was close to die on campus, if there was another one she would go even more mental. If that was even possible.

[Matt]

Dexter searched for the name, it was something beginning with c but it escaped him momentarily it was at the end of his tung. "Caspian, he was hurt pretty bad." He was interested in why she cared, her voice sounded genuinely concerned rather than interested in gossip.
Dexter observed Scarlett's face to see whether she knew the name or was actually concerned for the boy Dexter had left in a mortal state.

Dexter had also seen her get a glimpse of his back when he had piked up his blood sodden shirt, he presumed that he would no dough get a question about the scar and tattoo. But if he could he would steer the conversation away from it.
Dexter was also worried about Caspian there was a nagging n him that gave him the feeling to expect the worst.

[scarlette]

"Jesus Christ," Scar muttered, crossing her fingers behind her back, hoping that he was okay. They hadn't exactly been close friends, but he was part of her group. They talked to each other in corridors, knew the same in-jokes, went to the same gatherings. She remembered auditioning for a part in Annie with his sister, Liza, and that made her start to worry about her as well. And Casimir, of course, he would be affected, he had been friends with the injured boy since they were infants.
"Don't think about Casimir. Just don't," she whispered under her breath, saying the words to try and dissuade herself from reverting to that used up topic. She dug her nails into her sides, her fingers reaching for the gaps between her ribs. She closed her eyes as she began to panic, trying to keep her mind clear, her breathing steady. As she lost the will to stay standing, she let herself slip to the floor, where she sat, cross-legged, breathing in the smell of disinfectant. She would even have started sobbing and rocking backwards and forwards, like the messed up kids in films do, but she had company, she wasn't going to let herself go that much.
"He's not going to die though, is he," she asked finally, looking up at the older boy pleadingly. All Scar wanted to hear was that everything was going to be fine, regardless of whether it was true or not.

[Matt]

Dexter's face wore a concerned look. he dearly wanted to lie and tell the poor girl that every thing was fine and that Caspian would be walking in here with only a scrape. But it was too unsightly so he said nothing. he was shore his silence would be enough. Dexter turned his back to her for a moment to avoid any unwanted eye contact.

The subject would be unavoidable though so in the end he faced Scarlette and said in a low, hollow voice "How did you know him."

Dam he thought as he realized he had said 'did' instead of 'do'. Dam him for being so incentive to other peoples feelings, he had never been good with people. it was only his own fault though, like the rest of his life, it was always his fault. He had isolated him self from normal society for too long and as a consequence he no longer knew how to fit in.

"All my fault." Dexter slipped under his breath just to see whether he would allow himself to formulate the words.

[scarlette]

Scarlette's voice shook as much as her body did as she replied.
"I didn't know him that well but...You know, he was just one of us. He was always there, being sleazy or vain, or just making us laugh. Oh god..."
Her hands had moved away from her ribs now to her skinny arms. She ran her bitten-down nails over her skin, wishing they were longer so she could hurt herself enough to distract herself from the painful truth.
"...I can't cope with death...I get freaked out even when its just some stranger's pet thats died. I hate it," she rambled on, her voice having faded to a whisper.
Trying to extricate herself from her own mind, Scar turned her tearful face to Dexter's.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, focusing on someone else for once.

[Matt]

"I think so." Dexter mumbled not shore himself if he was going to cope. But know this frail nerved girl needed some reassurance. So he added in a soothing voice, "There is no need to freak out about death, its just one of those things, how about we talk about something lighter. What things do you like?"
Dexter was trying to calm her down she was making him nervous he sat next to her and waited for her to start talking, if she got her mined away from the subject she would be able to face it better later, especially since there was no known result yet.
She did look young, it was no surprise that the whole situation had rattled her, it was partly his own fault no drought.

[scarlette]

Scarlette tried to calm her breathing down. She closed her eyes and waited until she stopped feeling like the world was doing somersaults underneath her. When the panic subsided, it was quiet. It was the middle of the night, and there was a feeling of stillness in the air. The only sound that still reverberated in her head was the frantic beating of her heart.
Now she was feeling slightly less insane, she realised he had asked her a question.
"I don't know...I like rock music and..." feeling awkward, Scarlette reverted to her usual emotional state; anger.
"Jesus, why do you care?" she snapped suddenly, turning away with a glare. Her mood swings were practically infamous. And they had got worse since Casimir had left. Now she had a tendency to turn hostile whenever anyone tried to get to know her.

[Matt]

Dexter was surprised by the sudden change in temper, ye he under stood it. His conversation was rather irrelevant and rather uncomfortable.
"I don't, I'm just trying to take our minds off the whole matter of ... unpleasantnesses." He answered simply and patted her on the shoulder gently. The pat had no real meaning he just hoped it would calm her down. "I quite like rock, do you like System of a Down, or is that too metal?" He asked continuing the conversation regardless of the mood swing.
The chat was probably more for his own benefit any way he didn't want to think of the incident the dungeons. I shook his nerves too much. He felt a sudden exhaustion, a great weariness and the desire to sleep. Yet he could not face it in fear of his subconscious that would dream the horrors and haunt him.

[scarlette]

When Dexter patted Scarlette's shoulder, she jolted slightly and scrambled just out of reach. She wasn't too great with physical contact nowadays. Even when one of her friends hugged her, she found herself remembering how someone else had held her in his arms The ghost of Casimir's presence still remained.
She raised a hand to her shoulder unconsciously pressing against the point of contact, as if she had been wounded there. Scarlette could see what the older boy was trying to do; create a distraction from the night's traumatic events. Scarlette still wasn't ready to come to terms with any of it, so much as she hated being manipulated into conversations, she decided to comply and answer in a civilised fashion.
"They're quite good...They have a song about killing rock and roll though..." she trailed off as the grim lyrics recurred in her mind.
"Every time I look in your eyes,
Every day I'm watching you die..." she sang the words aloud in the eerie silence of the dark room. The last line came out as a whisper, and she looked up, meeting his eyes, praying that her tears wouldn't surface again. An image flashed into her head of Caspian, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, making the frantic song seem heartbreakingly appropriate.