Hello! Here's chapter 21. I'm really sorry this has taken so long to upload, I wanted to get it up a couple of days ago but I've had loads of uni work this last week. I always feel like when it's taken me more than a couple of days to get the chapter up then it had better be good to make it worth the wait, though I'm not sure if this one is :P. Please review to let me know what you think, and thank-you as always to all you lovely people reading and reviewing so far :D.
"Is it done yet?" Dougie asked, his eyes clamped shut, one hand clutching onto Tom's, the other being seen to by Dr Anderson.
"Just one minute," The doctor replied, dabbing the area around the wound with a piece of gauze before re-covering the area with a bandage "There we go, Dougie. See not so bad, was it?"
Dougie opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows at Dr Anderson, "Maybe not for you," He said, sarcastically.
Tom smiled, pleased at least that Dougie was making a joke rather than sat terrified as he had been. He felt Dougie's grip loosen on his hand and let go, patting Dougie gently on the shoulder.
"Are we done then?" Tom asked Dr Anderson, eager to get Dougie back somewhere he felt more relaxed. Though Dougie's brave front had seemed to get him through the procedure, he still looked far from happy to be within the hospital walls.
"I think so, yes," Dr Anderson replied, "Just treat it like a normal wound, change the dressings every other day, keep it covered at all times, and keep it dry. It should heal up in no time, shouldn't even scar too badly. And do come back and see me if anything looks out of the ordinary."
"There better not be anything out of the ordinary," Dougie muttered.
Tom hit him gently on the shoulder, "Stop it, Dougs, he's just trying to help you," Tom turned to face Dr Anderson, "Sorry, he just really uncomfortable in hospitals, as you, um, saw earlier,"
"Oh that's quite alright," Dr Anderson smiled, "Quickly, before you leave, did you take my advice on finding a therapist?"
Dougie felt himself blush at the mention of his therapy sessions. He didn't know quite why it embarrassed him so much, but it felt strange having someone he didn't know at all, and someone that at this precise moment he didn't particularly like, enquiring into such a personal matter.
"Yeah, yeah we did," Tom answered, seeing Dougie's cheeks flushed red and his eyes averting any contact, "It's going pretty well," He added, trying to hurry the conversation to an end.
"Well, that's good," Dr Anderson smiled, "Here, take my card, if you do need to bring Dougie back in, call me directly and we can try to make arrangements for a home visit," He said, passing Tom the small rectangular business card, "In some cases, the undue stress from hospital visits can be avoided," He finished, lowering his voice slightly and taking Tom to the side.
"Uh, I can still here you over here, y'know?" Dougie said, rolling his eyes, "I'm fine really."
"Sorry, dude," Tom said, walking back over to Dougie's side and handing him his jacket from the back of the chair, "Come on, let's get home, yeah?"
Dougie nodded, a little too keenly, he realised after, for his brave façade, though he didn't really care. They were finally, after what had seemed like one of the longest hours of his life, leaving the hospital. Dougie slipped his jacket on and stood up.
"Take care of yourself now, Dougie. I hope I don't have to see you back here again anytime soon," Dr Anderson smiled as they left the room.
"Yeah, that makes two of us, dude," Dougie replied. He didn't mean to be rude, he was in part only joking to try and lighten the tension he had caused earlier, but there was a fair bit of truth to what he was saying too. The less time he had to spend in hospitals, the better.
Walking out through the hospital, Dougie felt considerably calmer, though it was an uneasy calm, still somewhat on alert for anything that could be possibly terrifying. They made their way down the endless corridor, which seemed shorter now, Dougie cringing at the memory of his previous actions. Why did he keep doing this? Making stupid decisions time after time after time? He thought the rational part of his brain would have figured out how to intervene by now, but apparently not, hence his earlier episode, hence the bag of weed hidden away at Tom's house, and hence why he was ever at the hospital in the first place. Thinking of the drugs made Dougie's heartbeat race, from fear of being caught, and his indecisiveness about what to do. There was also the other side though, the part of him that felt some twisted sort of excitement about having the secret, having something that was just his, that, judging by his previous experience, had the ability to lift his depression, even if just temporarily and in a way that, on some level, Dougie knew was not healthy.
Tom slowed his walking pace, noticing Dougie was lagging behind. He turned round to see Dougie walking slowly, as though he was physically thinking about having to move one foot in front of the other, biting on his lower lip, his eyes glazed over, looking deep in thought. A moment of fear gripped Tom as he saw Dougie's blue eyes glassy, like they were when Dougie wasn't really there. Tom froze, unsure of what to do. Only Harry had been able to talk Dougie down from a dissociative episode, and Tom felt, once again, so far out of his depth. When did their friendship come to be this? To being about looking after Dougie, making sure he doesn't do anything he'd regret, to talking him out of panic attacks and talking him back down to Earth, to fixing problems that should never have been there. It wasn't that Tom minded looking after Dougie, of course not, he would have done so regardless of whether any of this was happening to Dougie or not, but sometimes he just wanted to have his friend back, carefree and childlike as he had once been, rather than a helpless shadow of the Dougie that he knew, who must be buried so far underneath depression and anxiety he could barely see the light any more.
"Dougs?" Tom ventured, hoping beyond hope that Dougie hadn't drifted too far off shore.
"Hmm?" Dougie replied, snapping out of his thoughts.
"You alright? You, um, you seemed a little distant," Tom asked, relieved to see that Dougie appeared to be okay.
"No, yeah, I'm fine, sorry, just, uh, just thinking, I guess," Dougie rambled, a little too fast to be fully convincing to Tom.
"Oh, okay," Tom replied, not wanting press it further for fear of getting into anything in the hospital. Dougie wasn't disassociating, whatever he was thinking about could wait before Tom questioned it, "Come on, I thought you'd want to get out of here as quick as possible, dude."
Dougie smiled, glad that Tom seemed oblivious to his preoccupied mind, filled of impossible decisions that had to be made eventually. Realizing where he was and how slow he was dawdling, Dougie picked up his walking and sped out of the hospital, Tom power walking along behind to keep up. As they got outside, Dougie pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, stopping just outside of the sliding doors.
"Is it alright if I have a cigarette before we get in the car?" Dougie asked, knowing Tom didn't particularly appreciate people smoking within his Mini.
"Yeah sure," Tom replied.
"I'll be quick," Dougie said, feeling bad about making Tom wait around outside with him. He took out a cigarette to put in his mouth, glancing down at the pack and seeing he was down to his last two, "Uh, can we stop at a shop on the way back? I've only got a couple left," He asked.
Tom nodded as Dougie lit the cigarette perched between his parted lips, watching his friend look like he was beginning to truly relax for the first time all day. Tom wondered, as he watched Dougie smoke, how long it would be before he got his Dougs back from where it was hidden. Though it filled him with guilt to think it, Tom didn't know how much more of this he could take before completely breaking down. He knew he had to pretend to know what to do, to pretend everything was going to be okay, but honestly, Tom had no idea if Dougie would, or in fact could, ever be the same as he was back then. So much had changed, almost everything about Dougie had changed into a fragmented, alternative-reality version of his Dougie, standing right before his eyes, the process of the change having gone largely unnoticed until it seemed all but too late for anything to be done to fix it; or anything easy, at least. There would be no quick fixes here that Tom could see.
Dougie inhaled on his cigarette, the events of the day still very much at the forefront of his mind. He could barely make sense of his actions himself, and could only imagine how they must have seemed to Tom. He knew Tom would want to talk to him, everyone was so concerned with getting him to talk lately, but how could he explain to them if he couldn't even understand what he was doing himself? There were only two people he would possibly want to talk to, the parts of him wanting to talk to them both taking up polar opposite sides of his brain. On the one hand, he wanted to talk to Julia, so he could ramble through what was going on without worrying about concerning anyone he cared about, to try and make sense of everything so he could talk through what was going on with his friends after, to help them to understand. And then, on the other hand, he just wanted to forget everything, to drown out his thoughts through drinking, or smoking weed, or taking or doing just about anything else that would make his brain shut the hell up and leave him alone, and that would mean talking to Veronica. Beautiful, enigmatic Veronica, who Dougie knew was bad news in every possible interpretation of the phrase, but who he still could not get out of his head. He knew the others would not approve of her, of course he did, why should they approve of someone with the potential to lead him so far astray? But right now, that was what Dougie wanted, to try something new, to be someone new, if he couldn't get out of this rut he found himself stuck in any other way.
Finishing off his cigarette, Dougie flicked the end out into the car park, and he and Tom began walking towards the car, the sound of footsteps on concrete being all to break the silence. Truth be told, Dougie hadn't even noticed the quiet until there was the sound of their walking to emphasise the lack of communication. He glanced over at Tom, seeing him looking fairly absorbed within his own thoughts as well. It struck Dougie, seeing Tom so deep within his head, that perhaps he was being selfish, acting the way he was, telling his friends that things were fine when they quite obviously were far from it. He wished he could act fine, so they would have nothing to worry about, so that he could sort everything out on his own. After all, they were his problems, why should his friend have to sacrifice so much of their time and energy on him? Why did he have to cause so much of a scene about everything? Why couldn't he just suck it up and get on with things? He was pathetic, Dougie thought, absolutely pathetic, entirely undeserving of the concerns of his friends. They could do so much better than him.
Hope you liked the chapter! The next one should hopefully be up within a couple of days.
Also, I don't know if anyone reading this wants someone to beta their stories, but I filled out the beta reader profile thing the other day, 'cause it seemed like something I'd like to do, so if anyone would be interested in me beta-ing their stories, please let me know!