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Roch stumbled slightly, his shoulder hitting the wall next to him as he tried to get his balance. Demi had carried him all the way to school, which was jackin' pathetic, but there was no way Roch would let him carry him into the dorm and to his room. He would lose what little reputation he had that way. Not that he was doing too hot of a job keeping it by stumbling almost blindly down the hall that led to his room.

He cursed, leaning against the wall for a moment, feeling the cold sink into his slightly fevered body. How could he have done this to himself with only an hour of practicing? It was pathetic, that's what it was. He growled at himself, shoving himself to his feet and starting forward again. He should have never tried summoning his guitar again.

Demi hitting him sure as hell hadn't helped, though, he thought, reaching up to probe his swelling jaw. It was--well--actually, this sick as s**t and feeling dizzy sensation actually reminded him of home. A little laugh escaped him, only to make him groan as his still sensitive stomach muscles complained about it. He'd been dry heaving for almost an hour, which was almost the same as being hit to the gut from the inside after a bit.

Demi sure was a lot nicer than he was, though. Stronger, too. Jackdammit, if he kept thinking like that he'd feel even guiltier for trying to get Xiu. And right now he probably couldn't handle more guilt.

"Xiu?" he asked blankly, turning to look at her for a few moments. "You shouldn't be in the reaper dorm, it's gettin' dark," he said, although his jaw hurt to talk, now that he'd tried. Did he have anything cold in his dorm to put on it?

Not that he could remember.

Maybe he'd call Edel--no, that was even stupider. "What uh... are you doin' here?" he asked, supporting himself as best as he could. He didn't want to put any weight on her unless he had to.

"It'll heal," Roch said dismissively. "Xiu, I... ain't gonna be much company tonight," he admitted, letting out another little laugh. "I'm tapped." They had gotten to his room by now and he opened the door, ignoring the few minis hanging out on his bed and staring at them blankly.

"I just need a good night sleep." But could he control his sleep after a day like this? Hell, probably not. Yet another good reason to send Xiu away as quickly as he could. He didn't want her to see him--who was he kidding? He sure as hell didn't want her seeing him in this pathetic state, much less in the middle of an old nightmare! "I'll be fine," he promised, letting go of her and heading to drop down on the bed heavily.

He watched her with serious silver eyes. "Xiu?" he asked quietly, letting her mother him more because he was in no shape to make her stop than anything else. "Does what I said... y'know, bother you? It probably does. It probably should," he admitted with a hint of self depreciation. "Poor gutter trash b*****d with a crush."

His eyes closed for a second, his focus blurring just a bit. "I'm going... to be famous," he told her. "Super famous."

"No... can't," he whispered, even as his eyes closed. He looked less... like Roch with his eyes closed. Those silver eyes of his were such a big impact. Almost as soon as he closed his eyes sweat covered his skin and he turned even paler than usual.

He'd been right, the little boy in the well thought. He couldn't control it tonight.

"No," Roch whispered in his sleep. "No."

It was dark, for the most part. The rough rocks that made up the wall of the well seemed to jut out at unexpected moments, making them easy to run into. They were slimy and sucked the heat from your body the moment you touched them. But there was no heat to suck, the small pool of water he was standing in had already taken that. Roch, barely eight years old, stared up at the tiny bit of light coming from the top of the well.

"Hey, hey guys, this isn't funny anymore!" he yelled up. He could hear the boils giggling, and one of them phased through the wall beside him, making what he thought was a funny face.

"It's not funny, it's not funny, he says!" the ghost taunted. "You hear that, Jake? He thinks it's not funny anymore!"

"I heard it!" Jake yelled, coming in through the top of the well. "The big bad reaper isn't laughing!!"

Roch stared up at Jake, wondering why they were doing this to him. His arm hurt. He'd landed on it when they shoved him in. He was almost glad that there wasn't much light in the well, he'd rather not see if it was broken or not.

"Come on guys, let me out of here!" Roch said. "Quit teasing me!"

"Oh, we're not teasing," Jake said, coming down from the top of the well. "See, we don't like reapers!"

"But we like you," the other ghost boil said, phasing through Roch's chest and looking up at him. "So you're going to die here!"

"Wh--what?"

"Then you, me, and Jake can be ghosts together!" the ghost still half inside Roch said with a happy laugh. He was joined by Jake in his laughter as the two ghosts went up through the mouth of the well.

"Don't worry, Roch, it won't take long!" Jake said as a creaking, creepy noise echoed through the well. Slowly, painfully, a wooden slat started to cover the mouth of the well.

All light disappeared. They were in complete blackness.

"Wait! Wait!!" Roch bellowed, completely oblivious to the fact he wasn't alone this time. So many times in this nightmare he had been. "Don't!! Come on, guys, don't do this to me!" he yelled, tears threatening. "It's not--I don't--I don't want to die!!" he wailed. "Come back!!"

Nothing. There was no response. He sniffled loudly, wiping his nose with the back of his forearm, then wincing and putting his arm down again. It hurt. It hurt so much. But he had to get out of there. With a determined expression he turned to the wall, grabbing one of the stones with his good arm--

As soon as he reached for the next with his other arm he let out a sound of pain, falling back into the water at the bottom of the well. He reached up, touching his injured arm and hissing through his teeth. "It hurts," he whimpered.