One. That was her pulse, ticking until detonation.

Two. The walls with a swirling quality to them, bending out and in every way she looked.

Three. The air, thick, unbreathable.

Four. The door. She'd picked the seat closest, but you can't just GET UP when everyone is paying attention, you can't make a scene, if you're going to die you have to do it quietly so as not to disturb the class.

Five. The letters on the board with no meaning any more. They hazed out into jibberish, leaving only the message that was playing over and over again in her mind. "You're going to fucking die."

Six. She was going to fucking die.

The lecture had barely passed its first half hour before Peridot cut her losses and bailed through the door. The hallway outside was warm-colored and dark, and the walls heaved a little less than the room's. She would go to the water fountain – no – she would pace for just a few minutes before going back – no – she couldn't go back today. Inhaling shakily, she dropped to the armless bench outside the room. Her blood pounded in her ears. Nothing was going to happen… nothing was going to happen. Nothing ever happened, nothing ever would.

But she still felt like dying.

In her more lucid moments, she would berate herself for leaving class like this – she'd wasted enough tuition already on such worthless priorities. But this was not a lucid moment. This was one of those times when she understood exactly why she didn't pay attention in class. It was perhaps the only kind of understanding she actively hated.

It's Maslow, she was in the habit of telling herself. Security comes before self-actualization. It's perfectly natural to drop the stuff you REALLY want to work on when there's an imminent threat. Or when your body perceives one.

At least it was more socially acceptable to die in a hallway than a classroom. There'd be no one staring judgmentally as she keeled over, no sickening legacy of "the room where some girl died," and no need to rope off the door while her body got hauled out by the coroner, or the custodian, or whoever the fuck did things like that. Just business as usual, next class at 3:15.

"Peridot. Are you all right?"

The voice startled her out of her thoughts, and she realized she was huddled up and rocking on the bench.

"F-fine."

"You're shaking."

She recognized those shoes. It was someone from class… which class had she just left again?

"That's… just…"

The girl came in closer.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Peridot never wanted to talk about it. She was gimpy, she was awkward, she was friendless. Her only real asset, her brain, was failing her now too. That shred of dignity meant more than it should have.

The girl must have read her expression. "It's okay if you don't," she added. "I just thought maybe I could help."

Peridot risked a glance at the girl's face. Whatever her name was escaped her. But, something gave Peridot pause. For the first time ever, someone had come looking for her. Someone who thought she was important enough even to remember her name.

"My prescription's out," Peridot mumbled and turned away.

"What are you taking?"

"…Z– uh… sertraline."

"Hm. What dose?"

"Are you ALWAYS this nosy?" Peridot snapped before she saw the girl pulling a small bottle out of her bag.

"Only in emergencies," she said as she cracked it open.

"Oh," Peridot conceded. "Uh, fifty."

The girl held out a pill. "Split this one and take the other half tomorrow."

Peridot eyed her for a moment. "Can I see the bottle?"

"Like I'M the only one who's being nosy around here…" the girl teased, seemingly amused.

"I'M NOT USED TO TAKING DRUGS FROM STRANGERS, OKAY?"

"No, right, I get it." She handed Peridot the bottle.

"This has got to be all kinds of illegal," Peridot muttered as she scanned the label. Zoloft, check. Two full tablets a night – how sick WAS this girl, this… Lazuli, according to the bottle. Peridot shoved it curtly back in her direction, hoping she hadn't been seen overreading her welcome.

"It's not going to make an appreciable difference," she grumbled, plucking the pill out of Lazuli's hand anyway.

"But it might tie you over."
Peridot scoffed. "Over WHAT? No one takes my insurance around here, this is the end for me."

"Oh… that IS pretty awful," Lazuli concurred. "Not seeing anyone?"

"Look at me, do you THINK I have friends?"

"I mean a therapist."

"Oh. Right. I knew that, of course." Peridot felt some color rise to her cheeks.

"You'll meet someone you get along with," Lazuli said, sitting next to her. "This is a good place for it."

"Therapists?"

"No. Friends." She fished around her bag and pulled out a much larger bottle. "Water?"

"I have my own," Peridot said brusquely. Hands shaking as they were, the business of splitting the pill became more one of crushing it. She tossed back the dustier pieces and pocketed the others. Seeing Lazuli watch her chase the pill with water, she swallowed and asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"Do I need a reason to be nice?"

"Yes, actually, people aren't just nice for NO reason."

"Well," Lazuli leaned back, "you looked pretty upset. I thought you might want to talk about it."

"That's all?"

"Because I know what it's like."

"You have anxiety too?" Peridot looked up at her.

"Heh. The other one, mostly. Bit of both."

"Yeah. Me too. Less depression than anxiety though."

"I guess you could call us complimentary, then."

"Buy the whole set," Peridot joked snidely.

Lazuli laughed, a little too loudly for a joke of that caliber. "How are you feeling?"

"Honestly, like shit."

"Could you use a hug?"

Peridot faltered.

"Wh- … are you offering?"

"Yes."

"And I'm allowed to accept?"

"Jeez, what hardasses have YOU been living with your whole life?" Lazuli said, pulling her in close. The second body soaked up Peridot's trembling like a finger on a tuning fork. "You poor thing."

Despite those words, when she touched her, Peridot had a sudden feeling that there was a profound loneliness inside Lazuli as well. Without even realizing it, she had mumbled, "It takes one to know one."

For a moment, she was afraid her slip had been offensive, but Lazuli's only response was to stroke her repetitively on the shoulder. Peridot gingerly wrapped her arms around her. She smelled faintly of acid, and Peridot was reminded of the lab.

"Are you a chem major?"

"No. Why?"

"…No reason."

Lazuli clicked her tongue in a way that made Peridot feel that this accusation had somehow transgressed more than the first.

"Are YOU?" Lazuli asked after a beat.

"No. Engineering."

"Heh. I'd be stressed out too if I were an engineering major."

"It's not so much THAT," Peridot said, starting to get the sense that Lazuli wasn't about to let go of her. "It's kind of always been like this."

"Yeah. I know the drill. So, what's an engineering major doing in a modern literature class?"

"It's not like I fit in with the engineers, either…"

Lazuli brushed a wisp of hair off Peridot's forehead.

"Well, that's their loss. You starting to feel better?"
"A little, I guess."

"Breathe with me," Lazuli instructed.

Following such a slow breath was just that little bit maddening. Peridot was not a resident of her body. She was a resident of her mind, and her body was merely her incompetent chauffer. But as it went on, the synchronization proved nicer than she'd have given it credit. Up close everything was so tangible – the soft heat of the other girl's body, the tickle of hair on her face, the somewhat off-putting hydrochloric scent. In the lull of their conversation, Peridot found herself aware of the pulse in Lazuli's neck, the dull thudding below. Peridot hadn't heard a heartbeat besides her own for a long time. Hers was a frantic heart, a shot bird tearing itself to pieces. This one spoke a whole different language… not exactly calm, but sounding very insistent about something.

And that's all there was for a short while. There was her, there was Lazuli, there was the little bit of water in her eye that she was sure came from swallowing the Zoloft wrong.

"There, how's that? You're not shaking so much anymore."

Peridot pulled herself out of her thoughts.

"Oh… it's – good."

Lazuli gently released her, but not before giving her shoulder a small squeeze. Not the worst consolation prize, Peridot decided. Especially not when combined with a smile like that.

"Do you want to go back to class?"

"Um…"

"We don't have to."

"We?"

"If you want me to stay, of course."

"That would certainly be acceptable."

The amused look crept back to Lazuli's face. She looked as if she wanted to say something but didn't.

"I… really appreciate you doing this," Peridot added awkwardly.

"It's no trouble."

"Yes it is! You're missing class for this!"

Lazuli clucked. "I've missed worse things in life."

Peridot looked at her askance. That didn't sound like a light phrase. "What kind of things?"

"Oh… you know." Lazuli made an aimless gesture. "I could have missed THIS, for one."

"Why, what's so good about THIS?"

"YOU don't think there's anything good about this?"

"I didn't say THAT. But what's in it for YOU?"

"You really don't trust people, do you?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Then, consider it an exercise in trust. The reason I'm here," Lazuli said.

"I don't understand you," Peridot muttered skeptically.

"Don't blame yourself. I'm hard to understand."

"Seems you wouldn't have it any other way," Peridot said and wished for not the first time that her brain could vet things faster than her mouth could say them.

"You're kind of a jerk," Lazuli said flippantly. "But it's cute."

"Cute?"

"Yes. You want to get coffee with me?"

"Ehhh… I think the caffeine would probably kill me."

"Something else, then. It's on me."

"Are you serious?"

Lazuli laughed and it sounded like a gully after a storm. "Why would I kid about that?"

"You ever heard of a dare?" Peridot mumbled.

"Have YOU ever heard of a…." Lazuli cut herself off. "…of people hanging out?"

"In theory." The hell. What was there left to lose now? "Fine. I mean, yes. Let's go."