Take this sinking boat (Joss, Merry)

[officiallybeige.insanejournal.com]

When Joss woke up it was still dark and he felt like screaming.

It wasn’t the pain, the pain wasn’t that bad. It was everywhere, it was his whole body, but it was not the pain that made him want to scream.

Everything was just terribly terribly wrong.

He clenched himself into a ball, which hurt, and didn’t change how horribly he’d messed up, and cried. Sobbed like it might force out some of the poison.

He couldn't even pinpoint which parts of his life he was upset about. Something about the car crash and that causing everything else to catch up with them. Merry and Matt and reality. He dreaded having to look into other peoples faces and try to explain Kenzie and Teagan and running away, he dreaded being asked what he was going to do next. Was he going to keep running forever? Could anyone keep running forever? Both options; running and going home, terrified him.

Then there was how bad he'd hurt Teagan when he crashed.

He’d never felt so much like he wanted to die. Just to get rid of this mass of emotion he couldn’t control. Just to feel a little peace, for the first time in too long.

Joss reached for his bottle of painkillers and shook a double dose of them into his hand, though it had only been a few hours since his last dose. He looked at the little pills sitting in his hand, and thought, more will make me sleep for longer. Sitting up, he dry swallowed the pills, clenching his good hand in the sheets as they grazed the inside of his throat.

He reached for the bottle again, only to find it wasn’t there on the nightstand. He stared at the empty space, certain that was where he’d put it down.

He stared at it for a long time, confused, and worn thin, but he was too apathetic to get out of bed and search for it. Tentatively, he lay down again, and curled in on himself in his wretched state of self-pity, eventually, he went to sleep.

~*~

Next time he woke up, daylight was coming through under the curtains, and his room was warm. The door was open a crack when he was sure he’d closed it last night, and he could smell coffee brewing. Even the idea of coffee hurt – his stomach was burning like it was made of acid, clawing its way up his throat.

Merry nudged the door open a little more. “You called?” she asked, looking in on him.

“What?” even Joss’s voice felt burned with acid. He pushed himself up, hoping that sitting might make him throw some of this crap up.

“Didn’t you say my name?”

Joss shook his head, and Merry frowned. Someone had said her name, she was sure of it. “Are you alright?”

He made a face and held out his arm so she could help drag him out of bed. “Where’s bathroom?” he muttered, and she led him out of his room into the warmly lit living area, around a fat yellow couch and pointed him toward the bathroom door. Joss stumbled in and knelt in front of the toilet until he threw up.

Afterwards, he didn’t feel that much better.

That’d teach him for trying to overdose, he supposed.

Bit pathetic really.

Joss dragged a wet towel over his face, hoping it would bring him back to himself. It didn’t, but it made his face feel better. He stared at the long scar running across his head, all patched up now. He touched the stubble starting to grow around it, frowning, but not too deeply because facial expressions pulled at the scar.

Finally he left the bathroom, came back into the yellow living room to find Merry.

“How punk do I look?” Joss croaked at her, pointing at his head.

“Ridiculously punk,” Merry agreed. He’d slept in the big Tesla’s Niche t-shirt he’d been sleeping in for most of the trip, the one he and Kenzie had bought in Aberdeen. The neon green boxers kind of ruined the look, though. Dark bruises had blossomed across his pale legs. “Do you think you can eat anything?” Joss shook his head. “Drink anything? I made coffee.” Shook his head again. “At least have some juice,” Merry said, her voice brooked no argument as she poured two glasses of orange juice from the fridge. The hospital had said he’d been dehydrated, and if Merry could help with nothing else she could help with that.

He curled his hand around the glass, refreshingly cold in the warm room. He sat on a tall chair next to the bench, Merry on the other side of it, and he was sipping at the cup when he looked over Merry’s shoulder and saw the clock on the wall. “It’s four,” he said.

“You needed a good night’s sleep,” Merry told him, elbows leaning on the bench. “Or a night and a day.”

Joss stared at the clock, a look of betrayal on his face.

“Ellie and Geordie have gone in to see Teagan,” Merry said. “They’ll make sure she’s okay. They’re okay, I mean. Teagan and Kenzie. If they care about you they’ll understand you need your sleep.”

Joss closed his eyes. He’d meant to only blink but once they were closed, opening them again was hard.

He didn’t want to go back to hospital even to see them. He just wanted to sleep again.

He didn’t want to be sitting here drinking juice. He wanted to be asleep.

He didn’t want to be in Liverpool. He didn’t want to be anywhere.

“Joss?” said Merry, quietly, when he’d been silent for a long time. Minutes.

“I thought I just needed a night’s sleep,” he groaned. “But it’s more than that.”

Merry bit her lip. “What do you mean?”

“Dunno,” Joss said. “Just gonna go to sleep again I think.”

“Finish your juice,” Merry said.

“Can’t.”

“Yes you can. I know you’re hurt but you can still drink juice.”

Joss reached out with his hand and deliberately pushed the glass of juice over. He wasn’t proud of himself for that, but he also didn’t care.

“Oh you child,” Merry muttered, and Joss made his exit while she turned away to find a cloth. There was one waiting for her on the bench, nicely folded. When she turned back to the juice she was surprised to find it hadn’t spilt far at all, it was just sitting in a tidy puddle on the counter, if a puddle could be tidy.

Well that’s lucky, she thought, frowning at it suspiciously.