The bathroom was cold because it was winter.

Ivan's face sank into the outline of the bowl, limp and helpless like an animal sentenced to execution. The light had left out of his jewel blue eyes. The blond bleached out of his light golden hair. And another round of throw-up dumped out of his mouth, the fresh stomach acid burning every part of his insides with the hell only emptiness could provide.

His chest was heaving when the shakes finally started. They came like the aftermath of an earthquake. First there was the break, then the surface waves that destroyed everything and broke buildings and shattered bones.

Yao opened the door in a contained panic and wrapped his friend's shoulder in a heavy blanket, even though his forehead had been about a thousand degrees. The doctors said the cold wasn't good during times like this.

Ivan was steps from Unconsciousness.

"Do you want me to call a doctor?"

Yao's voice bounced around in Ivan's head. It echoed six times before stopping.

"Ivan-"

The Russian was trying to make words. But all he achieved was a cold sweat and a dumb bumbling. The sight finally bled out from his eyes and all the noises, temperature, and feeling went away for a slick dreamland of black and nothing. This was the most peaceful part. When Ivan spread out his long arms and the black hole came to embrace him, even though the fresh hell would come again when those sore eyes reopened.

Yao ran to the kitchen and got the phone.