"The worst nightmares are experienced with eyes wide awake."
- midara

Gus's meth high had gone from euphoric to terrifying after what had happened in his tent. Monstrous hallucinations, haunting memories of Adam, and paranoid delusions kept him up until Ida gave him something. Some pill. Said it would relax him after what had happened. Instead it knocked him out, which was even better. He could never think about it again. Another memory locked away, buried deep. His subconscious was becoming so full he could barely close the door anymore.

Then he was dreaming, dreaming about Adam.

Gus knew what Adam was doing to make money. It was obvious. What he didn't know was why Adam was lying to him about it.

"I need to do what you do," Gus said to him one night while they were sitting underneath their usual bridge, waiting for the others to get back with food.

"Whatchu mean?" Adam asked.

Gus was annoyed. His intention had been to catch Adam off guard by letting him know he knew his secret, but Adam was still lying.

"You know what I mean."

"No I don't."

Anger flared inside of Gus. Adam was treating him like a child, like when they first met, like he didn't know anything, and that bothered him. It hurt too. Hadn't he proven himself by now?

It had been two years since they'd met. During that time Gus had contributed to the group by running drugs for Doc, but Doc had been arrested last week. Ever since then, the streets had been tense. There was word the cops had planted a snitch, which they often did. A cop would get ahold of some addict and bribe them to buy drugs so they could catch the dealer in action. No one knew who the snitch was, though. And everyone was a suspect.

Doc's little brother, DF, had stepped up to take his place, but business had faltered in the aftermath and everyone was nervous. There weren't any runs, and they were all feeling the pinch. Gus needed to do something to make money. Fast.

"Come on, Adam. Don't lie to me," Gus said.

Adam shook his head before quietly admitting the truth by saying, "You don't wanna do that, Gus."

"It can't be that bad if you do it," Gus countered.

"It is. You have a choice. I don't no more, but you do."

"Why you say you don't got a choice no more?" Gus asked.

Adam's face was serious. "I'm too hooked on the Crystal. Plus, when you do that, Gus, you don't come back. That's the end of the line. You're different after that. No one wants you."

"What about Hex?" Gus asked.

"Hex understands because she does it too. Most girls ain't like that. She's special," Adam said.

"I still want you," Gus said softly.

Adam took a deep breath and looked at him, smiling sadly. "You shouldn't."

"Why?"

"You just shouldn't."

But he didn't move away when Gus rested his head on his shoulder.

"Another thing is, I can do this because I done it before. I know what to expect from these pedo pervs, and I know what they want," Adam said.

"What do you mean? What happened?" Gus asked.

Adam sighed and took a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. He gave one to Gus and then lit them both up. He didn't answer for a long time. Gus waited patiently, never pushing. They had grown close over the last two years and shared many painful secrets.

"I was twelve. My mom wasn't much of a mom. She had this boyfriend. He had a blue truck. One night he took me for a drive in that truck. We drove out to some oil field in the middle of nowhere, with one of those machines that pump the oil. You seen one?"

"Those robot lookin' things? Yeah."

"Well one of those was there. I watched it goin' up and down, pumpin' that oil, for a long time. Felt like fuckin' hours. That's when it happened, when he raped me. He took this bandana and put it around my neck, and he was twistin' and twistin' it till it was chokin' me, and I thought for sure I was gonna die, but that's just what he was into. It's a kink. He taught me all about kinks and chemsex, so that's why I'm good at what I do. But I never told my mom or nobody 'cept Hex, and you ain't gonna tell nobody neither."

"I won't. I swear," Gus said. "And... something like that happened to me too."

"I know," Adam said.

"How'd you know?" Gus's voice squeaked with shock.

Adam shrugged and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I could just tell."

"How?"

"Just the way you are. The way you look when you don't think people are watchin'. Plus, you was twelve when you ran off. What twelve year old chooses the streets?"

"I'm sorry that happened to you," Gus said sincerely.

Adam shrugged. "I'm sorry it happened to you."

Things like this made Gus think that if Adam was a girl, he would marry him. That's how serious he felt about Adam, a loyalty that surpassed ordinary friendship. In fact, it went even deeper than romantic love and into the territory of soulmates.

"I could go with you though. I can be a really good actor," Gus said.

"Well, you are very pretty. They like that," Adam said, nodding in agreement.

Gus turned red. "What do you mean pretty?"

"Relax. I'm not sayin' you're girly. You're just... you look good. You're cute. I mean, you're hot, Gus. When I first met you, you was this little kid. Now you're almost fifteen and you've grown up a lot," Adam said with a shrug, and Gus fought the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Adam snuffed out his cigarette. "Maybe you could go with me sometime. We'll talk about it later."

The usual sounds of Skid Row woke Gus from his deep sleep. He was groggy and alone in Ida's tent. Outside, some people were fighting about stolen beer. The buzz of hundreds of other voices was white noise in the background. Warm spring sunshine was heating up the tent, but it felt good.

The pain came when he tried to sit up, but he bit his lip hard and forced himself to do it anyway. The iron taste of blood was filling his mouth, but he refused to let even a whimper escape. A whimper, a cry, a sound would make this real.

Ida had cleaned the humiliating marker off his face and cut his bonds in half with a knife last night, but the black duct tape remained on both wrists. When Gus saw it, he scraped, tore and bit at it like a frightened animal, desperate to destroy any trace of what had happened to him.

When Ida returned, he jumped back into his corner, heart pounding.

"Relax. It's me," she said.

Gus said nothing, just held out his wrists. Ida sat down across from him and began snipping at the tape with a pair of haircutting scissors.

"You okay?" she asked, looking him in the eye.

Gus shrugged.

"You remember what happened last night?"

He swallowed and nodded. "There was three. They held me down, drew on me, cut my hair."

"Well good! You needed a haircut anyway!" Ida exclaimed.

Gus knew she was trying to make him laugh, but he didn't have it in him. Ida tore a strip of tape off his flesh and he winced in pain.

"How's your ass?" she asked, serious again.

"Hurts," Gus whispered.

"If you go to the hospital, you know exactly where they'll put you. You need to go. We both know that, but we'll see how you heal up on your own."

Gus nodded. Ida shot him up with a combination of heroin and cold medicine after that, and he was instantly unconscious again.

The nightmares, which had been part of him for as long as he could remember, clawed at his brain while he slept. Gus knew that sometimes he couldn't tell the difference between the dreams and reality, and he often came back to himself in strange places, terrified out of his mind, pissing himself, his own screams ripping at his throat as a full blown panic attack took over. This was what he called "snappin' up". He'd snapped up in closets, under beds, in strange cars. While on the streets, sometimes inside dumpsters or storm drains. He could never remember what the dreams were about. All he knew was that they terrified him. The fear lingered long afterwards. Back when he was with his friends, Adam was the one who would wake him up and hold him until he calmed down. Now he was on his own.

He must've had a nightmare tonight because he "snapped up" in front of the Mission in the dark. Ida was screaming his name, but Gus couldn't respond. He remained trapped in his head for several more minutes, hyperventilating, his heart pounding as he curled up and covered his ears.

Ida was shaking his shoulders so hard he hit his head on the Mission's brick wall.

At that moment, like a violent storm, it just stopped. Lifted.

"I'm fine," he gasped as soon as he could speak.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ida shouted breathlessly.

"Just a nightmare. I'm okay."

Ida looked at him with one raised eyebrow. "I thought you were crazy runnin' outta the tent like that!"

Gus stood, wincing with pain. "It's like that sometimes. But I don't remember it."

"You have these dreams a lot?"

"Every once and awhile."

After convincing Ida he was really and truly okay, Gus slowly limped back to his own tent, where he'd stocked some food and water before. He doubted any of it was still there, but it was worth a shot.

Incredibly, his tent was not only still there but also hadn't been robbed. For a long time he just stared into it in shock, and then a voice interrupted him.

"I watched it."

Gus turned and saw an African American girl staring at him. Her smooth skin was very dark, which made the whites around her large black eyes stand out. Those eyes were framed by long lashes, and Gus could see kindness and innocence in them. Her hip-length black hair hung in thick braids down her back. She wore a skimpy green dress that hugged the curves of her body, and her arms were crossed over her chest. She couldn't have been much older than he was, and she was gorgeous.

"Why?" Gus asked suspiciously.

The girl shrugged. "I jus' did. I live next to you."

"Thanks... I guess," Gus mumbled. "I'm Gus."

"They call me Strawberry."

"You wanna come in? I owe you. Got some food and Crystal I can share."

Strawberry shook her head. "No. I got work, but I'll take you up on the Crystal soon."

She walked away, and Gus stood there a moment, perplexed. Then Strawberry turned around to look at him once more.

"You okay? I heard... last night... the screams," she said quietly.

Gus nodded. "I'm okay."

"G'night then."

"Goodnight," Gus said.