Ryan picked up the tea spoon, squeezed out the tea bags, and deposited them in a neat pile on a

saucer. He added a spoon of sugar to his tea, stirring it in. The spoon clinked against the mug.

“Look, forget it.” Ginger ended the call. He chucked his phone onto the counter with a loud clatter.

“Fucking waste of time,” he muttered.

Ryan looked up at him. “What did they say?”

Ginger shrugged. “Not a lot. Just kept saying we’d better take Fizz to casualty if we’re worried

about what he’s taken.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Ryan put down the tea spoon. He chose one of the mugs with no sugar, and slid it along the counter.

“Thanks,” Ginger said, though he didn’t pick up the mug. “Um, look, I don’t think I want hot liquid

or anything breakable near Fizz. He was throwing stuff at me before.”

“Oh.” Ryan blinked down at the tea. “Right. Sure.”

“Maybe just give him water, in a plastic cup?”

“Okay. No problem.” Ryan picked up two of the mugs, carried them to the sink, and sloshed the tea

away. That was a waste of two teabags. He left the mugs on the sideboard, still marvelling at how

clean it was since Fizz had taken to washing up all the time. Poor Fizz.

“Ryan?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry...about snapping at you before.”

Ryan shrugged it off, though his heart was pounding. “Don’t worry.”

“I feel like...I dunno.” Ginger huffed out a sigh. “I felt really weird earlier, and I don’t know why. I

haven’t been sleeping well, and I had a really bad headache. I know that’s not an excuse… I didn’t

mean to take it out on you. I’m sorry.”

Ryan felt relief course through him, swiftly followed by a swathe of stronger emotions. He looked

at Ginger, trying to keep himself together. He didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded. It was moments like

these when he worried he was simply going to burst. When those golden brown eyes stared back at

him, seeming to wait for something, Ryan couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Daniel, I –”

“Ryan!” Ash called from down the hall. “Guys? Ryan!”

Ginger dashed away, and the moment was lost. Ryan tamped down his disappointment. Ash had

called them. What was happening now?

He followed Ginger, and they ran back to the pigeon loft. Ash was wrestling with Fizz on the

mattress. He looked up, panicked. “I don’t know what to do! He keeps trying to –”

He didn’t have to finish. It was obvious what Fizz was trying to do from the way he’d wrapped

himself around Ash, still – thankfully – fully clothed, although maybe not for long. His hands were

under Ash’s shirt, pulling, groping. Ash kept shifting around, not actually moving away, but trying to

block Fizz’s hands without hurting him.

Ryan glanced at Ginger, who looked halfway between furious and upset. Ryan made the decision to

step in, before Ginger got too angry. “Okay,” he said, approaching the bed. “Let’s stay calm. I’m

going to sit down too.”

“What will that do?” Ash grumbled. Fizz groaned beneath him, rubbing himself against Ash like an

animal in heat.

“I – I don’t know,” Ryan said truthfully. “Give you a break, maybe? I mean, he didn’t get this bad

with me.” He sat down, grasping one of Fizz’s hands gently. “Fizz? It’s Ryan. Hey, calm down, okay?”

Fizz’s eyes opened. Their dark depths swirled, then focussed on him in a challenging look. Ryan

wasn’t sure he liked that look much. It didn’t seem like the Fizz he knew. “Fizz?” he said, holding the

boy’s hand. “Everything’s okay.”

Fizz’s other hand abandoned Ash. In a movement too fast to follow, Fizz smacked his hand across

Ryan’s face, pulling himself free from Ryan in the process. Ryan’s eyes closed on impact, completely

caught off guard. A high pitched ringing sounded in his ears, then died away. Stunned, Ryan found

himself slumped against the wall. His eyes blinked open.

I can’t believe he hit me.

Ash scrambled from the bed to get away. Fizz crouched in the covers, growling, like he was ready

to spring on Ryan any second. Shit, Ryan thought. Was he really about to get beat up by Fizz, of all

people?

“Jamie, fuck! What did you do that for?” Strong, warm arms wrapped around Ryan from behind,

and he was yanked back. Ginger pulled him away, out of danger, and helped him to stand. Ryan was

still in shock, first from the brutal slap, and now from being held by Ginger. His cheek throbbed.

Ginger’s hands were on his shoulders holding him steady. “Ryan, you’re bleeding.”

“Huh?” Ryan touched his face, feeling it was wet. When he looked at his fingers, glistening red

blood covered them. “Oh.”

“Shit,” Ginger muttered breathlessly. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“I’m okay,” Ryan said. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was, but he wanted to keep Ginger calm. Why

was he bleeding? Fizz must have scratched him. How on earth did he have nails long enough? Ginger

pressed something to his cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan could see it was Ginger’s

bandanna, the one usually tied around his leg, or hung from his belt loop.

“Sorry,” Ginger apologised, seeing Ryan had noticed. “It’s mostly clean. You’re bleeding loads.”

Ryan held onto the bandanna, applying pressure. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“What the fuck?” Ash was by his side. He watched the bed warily, where Fizz was still crouched,

glaring at them. “What’s up with his eyes?”

“Huh?” Ryan didn’t understand.

“His eyes,” Ash hissed. “His eyes are brown.”

Ginger frowned. “What?”

“Fizz’s eyes are blue,” Ash said.

“You just said they were brown?” Ginger countered.

“His eyes should be blue,” Ash said quietly, glancing over at Fizz. “Now they’re brown. They’re

actually brown. Tell me what drugs there are, prescription or otherwise, that change a person’s eye

colour from blue to brown?”

“What?” Ginger glanced back at Fizz, and hissed, “Are you sure?”

“He’s right,” Ryan said, realisation dawning. “Fizz should have blue eyes, but his eyes were brown

just now.”

“I am right,” Ash said. “I know I’m right, but what does it fucking mean?”

Ryan dared to look over at Fizz. The boy stayed crouched on the bed, keeping his eyes on them all

the while. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Ryan,” Fizz called to him. “Ryan, I’m sorry.”

Ryan tensed against Ginger. Fizz didn’t sound all that sorry. In fact, he didn’t sound much like Fizz

at all. Fizz was normally shy, quiet, and sincere to a fault. This voice sly, mocking. Had those pills

really done that to Fizz? Ryan’s thoughts whirled in panic. His cheek throbbed in time with his heart;

he could feel the scratch marks sting.

Ginger prised Ryan’s hand away from his face, peeking under the bandanna. “Shit.” He quickly

pressed it back. “You’re still bleeding.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan said absently. He tried to think, but he felt tired, like he had a headache coming

on. “I – I need to get out of this room.”

“Yeah, me too,” Ash murmured.

“Okay, right.” Ginger guided him out of Fizz’s room. Ryan hadn’t expected that, but he wasn’t

about to complain. He thought he could get used to the feel of Ginger’s body against his, under

different circumstances, perhaps. Ash was right behind them. Almost as soon as they left the pigeon

loft, Ryan’s head cleared of its fog. However, being in such close proximity to Ginger clouded his

senses in an entirely different way. Ryan’s heart thudded deeply, and he had to remind himself to

breathe.

Ginger took him into the bathroom, and stood over him. “Ash,” Ginger said, not taking his eyes off

Ryan. “In the kitchen is a green first aid box, on top of the fridge.”

“Right.” Ash darted off.