CHAPTER 28:
He didn't want to answer the phone.
Without looking he knew it was him calling. He knew. Because who else could it possibly be? Anyone who mattered had a hand chosen ringtone, except for him, and John just wanted to let it go to voicemail. But, sitting in his dorm where he knew he was being watched, where that sicko had a great view of his little breakdown a moment before, he didn't think it would be wise to ignore the call. So he slowly got up and went to fetch his phone from his desk. And by the time he had done that the ringing stopped. John waited a moment to see if a voicemail would be left on his phone, to see if he'd call back, to debate just putting the phone down and going to take a shower instead...but then he hit the call back button.
"Well, you're a little late to the party."
"What do you want?" John asked.
"Oh, nothing now," Burr replied coolly. "I'm just checking my email for spelling mistakes before I send it off."
John pinched the bridge of his nose, not in any frame of mind for the headgames. "Please...I don't understand what you're talking about."
A long exasperated sign came over the line. "Oh Johnny, have you forgotten so soon what was expected from you?"
"It's been a long stressful night and I just had a fight with my best friend, as per your orders. What do you want?"
"Well, I wanted to know who else he had told about Alex, but I guess we're just going to have to kill your French friend and anyone he had contact with in the last two days."
"He didn't tell anyone else."
"And you believe him?"
John lowered the phone and sat down on the edge of his bed. He doubled over to put his head between his knees and tried so hard to muster up enough emotion to give any fucks right then. "please jesus christ," he muttered into his legs, "please just let me get through this…" Swallowing the only emotion that came up, a twinge of fear, John lifted the phone back to his face. "Yes, I believe him," he told the man on the other end of the line.
"Even after everything he put you through?"
"Wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you, would I?" John challenged, his voice meek. "Look, if you kill my best friend...could you please be merciful and kill me too?"
"I mean, I really should, after he tried to attack Alex this afternoon."
"Okay. Are you going to send someone in now, should I be ready to go somewhere...? How's it work when you kill a person?"
"It's no fun when you give up, John. I thought you'd have more fight in you then this."
"Sorry to be such a fucking dissapointment."
"Tch, fine! I won't kill your little fucking friend. Will that give you some perk back?"
"I'd really rather you just kill me."
Burr chuckled, seemingly amused by John's suffering. "You're funny," he said, the sensuality in his voice sending a chilling shiver of horror down John's back. "But you have more work to do, remember?"
John gave the smallest grunt in response.
"Well, I guess I'll let you get back to….whatever you were trying to do before I called. You know, you shouldn't let those wet towels sit on that wood, it'll warp it. Not to mention your milk will go bad if you don't put it away. And none of that will convince Alex you're a good roommate, will it?"
"You're not my mother," John mumbled into the phone.
"I would hope not. Oh, and John? The next time I call you had better pick up; I might not be in a good mood next time."
John heard the line go out in his ear and he sighed, tucking his hand under his chest. He wasn't going to move, he wasn't going to give that asshole anything amusing to watch. He was going to sit there on his bed and just wait for the proverbial blade to fall.
Alex opened the door to the dorm and was surprised to see John had gotten back before him. Until he noticed he was still in the clothes he was wearing from last night and doubled over on his bed. "John," he said as he walked inside, setting the bags he was carrying on his roommate's desk. "Did you even go to class today?"
"Eat a dick, Alex."
Alex was taken back by the insult, but rationalized his comment probably did come off as rude. "Hey, hey, hey," he said, stepping closer to John and bending forward to try to find his face. "I didn't mean to insult you buddy, are you okay?" He reached a hand out to rub along John's back but lifted it as soon as John shifted like he wanted to buck Alex off.
"don't touch me," John's voice muttered into his knees.
"Okay," Alex said, retracting his hands. "I got you a cheeseburger-"
"I'm not hungry."
"Okay. I'm going to ask one more question, but it's okay if you tell me to buzz off. I just...um, I didn't see you take your meds last night and I want to be sure you're okay. Did you, uh, take your meds this morning, John?"
No, he hadn't. He hadn't taken any pills for two days and it wasn't until Alex asked him that he even realized he'd skipped doses. The sleeping pills were their own thing, he hadn't wanted to take them because he didn't want to be vulnerable to someone, anyone, attacking him when he was unconscious, but the anti-depressants… "...no," John answered meekly.
"Okay, well, that's okay," Alex said, finally kneeling beside his roommate. "It's about 5PM right now, so if you don't want to take, like, your morning meds right now, then you don't have too. Do you take anything in the afternoon tho?"
"Booster."
"Do you think it would help if you take it now? Or would you like to just feel like this for a while? I mean like, you seem upset, but if you want to feel upset, for any reason, that's okay."
John finally lifted his head off his lap, just enough to peek an eye out from under the messy locks not tied into his loose ponytail. "Are you tricking me?"
"I hope not. Do you feel tricked?" John didn't verbally reply to that, but sighed heavily and lowered his head again. Alex waited for a moment, only looking away when Oak tapped him on the shoulder and handed him the hamburger he'd ordered for himself. Oak also silently pointed to the coffee mess left on the table across the room, and raised a brow to ask Alex if he should deal with it. Alex nodded and mouthed the word 'thanks,' at him as he retreated to do so. He then settled back and unwrapped his food, hoping if John saw him eating he'd want some too and maybe become more sociable. After all, people dropped their guard when they were eating food together.
It seemed to work because after a few minutes, as Alex was mid bite, John finally pushed himself up enough to look around the room before sheepishly asking, "you said you brought me one?"
Alex nodded and set his food down, wrappers and all, on the floor to go get John's meal. As he was doing so, a knock came at the door and he froze. "Who is it?" Oak called, stepping out of the bathroom where he'd been rinsing out the cup John had used earlier that afternoon. The door immediately swung open and a furious looking Thomas stepped into the room, causing Alex and John both to freeze up before And the two men stared each other down. Alex could feel the tension between them and he felt sick to his stomach as he anticipated another fight breaking out and dread permeated his body as he realized if that happened there could be no denying he would have to move out. John was more scared that Thomas was about to blow his whole cover.
But then, Thomas surprised him.
"Oh, you have a guest," he said. Then he pointedly narrowed his eyes at Oak and asked, "who the hell are you?"
"Oak," the other man replied. "I'm Alex's friend."
"Oak," Thomas repeated, as if trying to fit the name to the face, "Oak No-last-name, Oak?"
"I've said that about myself a few times to strangers, yes."
"Huh, small world. I'm Thomas." He held out a hand and Oak shook it.
"Does Thomas have a last name?" Oak asked.
"Not for people who won't give theirs."
"Fair enough."
"Nice to meet the man who told Lafayette to piss up a wet rope in a gay bar. That doesn't happen too often to him."
"I noticed."
"May I ask what you're doing here?" Alex interjected. He couldn't help it, the intensity between the two was killing him and if there was going to be a fight he just wanted it done and over with so he could pack his things and go, where he didn't know but he'd burn that bridge when he got to it.
Thomas gestured at John, as if he'd spoken and Alex wasn't there. "You said you wanted to go to the doctor's, are you ready to go?"
"Oh. right," John sighed, rubbing his face. "I forgot. I thought you'd take me in the morning…"
"I had work, just got off, but I already called and asked my PCP to see you and he squeezed you in," Thomas explained. He shot Oak a distrustful glare from the corner of his eye. "Unless you think you need to go to the ER?"
"N-no, a doctor is fine," John said, slowly getting to his feet. His legs felt numb from having his upper body pressed down on them, tingles of bloodrush accompanying a sensation of legs made of lead. "Can I...take that food to go, Alex?"
"Yeah," Alex said, handing the bag over to John. "I'll see you when you get back, okay?" John nodded as he limped toward the door, leaned against the wall, slipping his feet into sneakers he wasn't going to bend down and tie and not arguing when Thomas grabbed his hoodie off the hook for him. A moment later, they were gone.
"He looked like shit," Oak said as soon as they could have been halfway down the hall.
"It's my fault," Alex said, his mind already combing over everything that had happened. "He hates me and when they get back I'm going to have to move out."
"He does not hate you," Oak told him. "He's clearly having a shit day, tho. I''l give him that."
"I messed up somehow, this is my fault, I did something wrong and I don't know what to do to fix it!"
"Okay, assume it is your fault and you do need to move out. Where will you go?" Alex thought about it for a moment, trying to think of anywhere he could stay through the semester. Ben's place was right out for more than a day or two and he could stay at a hotel but he didn't want to spend the money when tuition was so much and he'd already paid to stay in the dorms. He could talk to the housing manager, and hope they had a single room to place him in but that was a very long shot he didn't want to count on. He thought of Aaron's offer, but some part of him didn't feel good about that either, literally it felt like he'd rather live out on the streets again if it came to a choice of living in the house Aaron picked out or that. Realizing he really had no other option, Alex slowly turned and gave Oak an almost kicked puppy look. "Abso-fucking-lutly not."
"I literally don't have anywhere else to go!"
"My place isn't big enough for you and me. And Burr might get the wrong idea."
"I'll talk to Aaron! Just for a few weeks til I can find a cheap apartment on my own!"
"Nope. You're already asking a lot that I babysit you 24/7 til whatever this drama with that french man is blows over."
"But now I'm not even sure that's gunna-because what was that?"
"What was what?"
"That with Thomas just now! That! That...Staredown!"
"Nothing," Oak told Alex with a shrug. "Sometimes guys stare me down. It happens."
"It happens when they wanna fight you!"
"Then Thomas can throw the first punch."
"Why doesn't he like you? Why doesn't he like me?!"
"Why do you need their approval?"
"Because I Do!" Alex screamed. "Because I Just Do, Okay?! I-Just-" He was spiraling, his thoughts tailspinning furiously beyond his control. He felt like something was going on, something he could almost figure out but that he was lacking some missing piece of understanding for. He paced the small space, feeling like a trapped animal in the zoo that wanted out of his cage, why did he feel like he was trapped in a cage? "...imagine death so much...more like a memory," he muttered to himself, losing words in his panic as they couldn't make the journey from his chaotic brain to his mouth.
"Alex…"
"...picking...with me…."
"Alex."
"...picking up...kicking up...sticking up…."
"ALEX."
He felt his foot step in something on the floor. Looking down, all his focus came to the food he'd put down to get John his. Oak sighed behind him. "I was gunna tell you to watch where you were stepping."
Alex's panic resided, disappointment filling him instead. A weird feeling of being a hungry child again mixed in. He sighed, rubbing at his eyes and getting a grip on reality again. "Tell me honestly," he said, looking up at Oak. "Was there something going on between you and Thomas?"
Oak leveled a perfectly blank look on him, not a hint of contradiction when he uttered the single word, "No," so convincingly that Alex accepted it. Just…...accepted it.
He nodded and pulled his foot out of his dinner. He wasn't hungry anymore, not really, or maybe that's what he told himself. He rubbed at his face to get a grip. "I'm….just gunna clean up in the bathroom…."
"Okay," Oak told him. "I'll clear this for you, you don't want to finish it, right?"
Alex shook his head as he hobbled to the bathroom. He rinsed his foot off and sat for a moment in silence as he mulled over the possibilities of what he was gunna do when John got back. He...he didn't want to move out, and furthermore, would it even be fair to do so now that it was clear John had apparently broken up with his best friend? But would John even be comfortable being around him anymore? And was he going to have problems with Thomas now because of everything that happened? Alex lowered his head into his hands and realized he had no plan and no guideline on what to do. And that...bothered him more than he cared for.
John was quiet on the way to the doctor, during the very short hold in a waiting room, through most of the very basic examination except to give very brief answers to questions like "does it hurt when I press here?" or "how were these injuries sustained again?" and quiet as he laid on the table while they waited for the x-ray of his chest they'd taken to come back. Thomas sat on a stool next to him, arms crossed, the ankle of one leg laying across the opposite knee, eyes closed. John had tilted his head to look over at him, silently examining his posture and neutral, zen-like face. The curls of hair that framed his head in a dark halo, the short trimmed beard of course hair that strengthened the cut of his jawline. The folds of his fuschia letterman jacket and the difference of texture in the leather arms and fabric vest-piece. His slow, even, controlled breaths.
They had never ever had a moment like this and everything about it felt surreal, like some hauntingly discorded and melancholy music he'd found on the internet when trying to look up something called chillhop. He wanted to say something but he didn't know what, and he was too afraid the sound of his voice would break this moment. He also refrained from reaching out and touching Thomas for the same reason, so he just laid very still in the quiet and studied everything about Thomas.
He realized he would miss Thomas when he was gone.
Stranger than that, John felt a pang of guilt that he'd never allowed Thomas to get close to him. He'd had his reasons, of course, but it still seemed sad now to look back and realize that he'd always kept the man at arms length. Idely, he wondered what his life would have been like if he'd...if they'd wound up together. He wondered if Thomas still held any affection for him or if everything he did now was motivated by a feeling of guilt and would it increase if John got himself killed...or killed himself...He wondered if Thomas knew about his recent fight with John, or was that news yet to reach him? Had he heard and was his being here him choosing John over Lafayette? Would any of that matter? And how deep did that loyalty to John go? Deep enough he didn't confront Oak, or even question John about what that man was doing in his dorm when he'd come to get him.
The soft spell of the room was broken as soon as the doctor opened the door, coming in with the x-rays they wanted to go over. Thomas took a deep breath and his eyes opened. "Well the good news is nothing is broken," the doctor said as he put the pictures up on the light display and turned it on so John's bones light up. "If I could point out these markings right around here," the doctor indicated a few areas where the white seemed more intense. "It's clear you've had a few cracked ribs before, haven't you John?"
"Once or twice in high school. Roughhousing got a little out of hand."
"Ah yes, boys will be boys," the doctor said. "The good thing about having had a few injuries like that, aside from learning how much it hurts, is that when your bones heal they get a little stronger. So someone would have to really try to hurt you to inflict the same damage." He pointed to a thin, dark line running perpendicular to two of John's ribs. "Which makes this especially disconcerting."
"Are they broken?" Thomas asked.
"Well no, but they are damaged. You said you fell down some stairs, John?"
"Yeah."
"You sure you weren't, let's say, pushed?"
"Positive."
The doctor sighed, exchanging Looks with Thomas that did not go unnoticed by John. Clearly he didn't believe him, but Thomas hadn't said anything to contradict John and so the matter was let go. "Well, it's a small fracture but nothing too serious," The doctor went on to explain. "You'll need to put off sports or excessive exercise for a while, take some tylenol for the pain and of course don't wrap your chest. You should be icing the injuries too, have you not been doing that?"
"I barely have a freezer…"
"We'll get you some moldable ice packs on the way back," Thomas cut in. "Anything cool on it should be better than nothing, right?"
The doctor nodded. "Well, then that's about it gentlemen. You should be okay if you don't roughhouse for a while and everything should clear up in a few weeks, with rest. Come back if the pain worsens, okay?"
"Thank you," Thomas said, standing up.
John pulled himself up with a little grimace, but really it was just stiffness at this point. He was just…..tired. Tired and stressed. He was quiet on their way out and was glad when he'd managed to climb back into Thomas's truck and rest his head against the cold window. Thomas started the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot, letting things stay silent as he drove. But even as John's consciousness skirted around giving into yet another depression nap, he muttered into the cabin, "thank you."
Thomas spared John a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road. "Yeah, no problem."
"Where's James?"
"He had a thing he does on Mondays with some of his friends, some game night thing. It goes on for hours. I went last week, but...you needed me more."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Thomas told him. "It happens. Besides, I wasn't doing so well in their game anyway. Lotta numbers and….stats….riddles…They expected me to be a wizard that can only cast certain spells off this sheet they gave me, which seems to be the stupidest thing ever, like if I'm gunna be a wizard then I know magic and can't I just like do whatever I want with it?"
"It's Dungeons and Dragons?"
"Yeah, you heard of it?"
"My brother plays. Elias, the youngest brother, he plays."
"Great, ask him to give me some pointers."
"He's still in South Carolina."
"Ah." Thomas pulled the truck into the parking lot of a drugstore, securing a spot and turning off the engine. "Okay, I'll be right back."
"I'm coming with."
"You honestly look like you could kill over and die any second, John."
"God I hope so."
Thomas sighed as he got out of the truck and locked it up. "Alright," he said, coming around the side of the vehicle faster than John did as he stumbled over his own feet and caching him before he face planted himself on the pavement. "You can come in under one condition."
"Oh?"
"Don't scream." Thomas swept John's legs out from under him with one arm and caught his falling backward in his other. John's body instinctively spurred him into action, that he grabbed onto Thomas' neck and shoulders as he was lifted into the air. And he didn't scream, per se, but he did shout to be put down, which Thomas ignored. Instead John was carried to a cart and deposited, as gracefully as they both could manage, inside the basket, which of course he did not entirely fit in. "We're only getting a few things," Thomas said to the mildly sullen look John gave him. "You're walking so slow, like a turtle. This'll help."
"You're a turtle," John snipped at him, swinging his legs to the same side and trying to get comfortable in the cramped cart.
"Doctor said no strenuous exercise."
"I don't think walking counts as strenuous."
Thomas put one foot on the bottom bar of the cart and pushed them with the other, rolling them along the parking lot. "I'm saying it does, and besides, I know you don't want to spend an hour in here looking for two thing neither."
John pouted for a moment, knowing Thomas was right but unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing John admit it. But he softened after a moment and asked, "Hey Thomas...have you heard from Lafayette?"
"You mean do I know ya told him to go fuck himself in the worse ways possible?" Thomas said as he guided that cart over the threshold to the store and swung them around to the section they'd need. "Yeah, he told me."
"I'm not sorry."
"Good, don't be."
"He's your friend tho."
Thomas stopped pushing the cart down the medical supply isle and leaned on the handlebar. "I know I befriended him before I met you, but honestly, sometimes I think I only stuck around as long as I have to be near you."
John tensed under those words and the soft, sad look Thomas gave him. "I don't….like you like that."
"Yeah, I know. I'll get over it."
"So….are you not gunna be friends with him anymore either?"
"I dunno, that depends on how he wants to act about this whole mess. Look, John, I won't tell you to make up with him for the sake of keeping the peace, so if I choose to remain friends with him and listen to his bitching all the time just let me worry about that. And honestly, I'm proud of you for finally standing up to him."
"I feel like shit about it."
"Yeah, I think that's how anyone would feel after losing a friend."
"No, Thomas, I….I said some really awful things to him." He pushed loose strands of curly hair away from his face. "things i shouldn't have said..."
"Should you have insinuated he was just like his mother? No, that never goes over well. Believe me, it's a hard pill for anyone to swallow. But...we all gotta face the things our family put into us at some point, John." Thomas handed him two boxes of the cold compresses they were looking for, then resumed pushing the cart.
"What did your family put into you?"
John watched the way Thomas's eyes refused to meet his then, scanning the items in the aisle as they passed by. "That's...a bit personal."
"Can I take a guess at it?"
Thomas gave him only a hint of a sid-eyed glare. "If you imply I'm just like my mother..."
"I think your parents put caring into you. Dunno why you wanna hide it all behind some jerkish mask tho."
"...heh, ass."
"Sounds like that was a nerve."
"Two nerves, you little punk." Thomas pulled the cart up next to a section of store for pain meds and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol, tossing it into the cart so that John flinched but it wouldn't hurt him. "Stay out of my business, unless you want me asking about yours."
John did not want Thomas asking about his business, so he said, "Well if that ain't the biggest big brother line I've ever heard."
"Oldest boy out of 15," Thomas replied, taking the bait to go down an easy path.
"Two sisters ahead of you, right?"
"One biological sister and one step-sister, but yeah. Good to know you listen."
"What was it like, growing up in a family that big?"
"I've only grown up with at most 10 siblings. I had moved out by the time my parents started adopting kids, sooo…."
"That's five more than my parents had."
"You and yours ever get loud?"
"Yeah, on occasion."
"Well, it's five times as loud at my house."
"Fair." John looked around as they pulled up to wait in line to check out. "Umm…." he started but lost his nerve and decided not to say anything.
"You need something else?" Thomas asked.
"I'll get it later," John started but Thomas was already pulling the cart out of the queue. "It's fine, I don't really need it, Thomas."
"We're already here," Thomas told him. "What do you need?"
For a moment John considered asking for something dumb, a soda, a pack of gum, anything that would have been too stupid to worry about in that moment, but something about Thomas's willingness to just help him sparked some new kind of trust in the man and he replied before he could stop himself. "Bandages. I….I always need bandages."
Thomas froze for a moment, staring at John in a way where they both knew what John was constantly buying bandages for, and for a tense moment John could see Thomas working out what he wanted to say to try and convince him that he wouldn't need them. Then he pushed the cart into the back aisle where the store kept their bandages. "What size?" He asked as they pulled up.
"I, uhh, I call them bandages, but it's usually just the gauze and tape."
Thomas grabbed two boxes of each. "That gunna be enough?"
John nodded a little stiffly. "Yeh-yeah. For now." Thomas handed him the boxes and pushed the cart down the back, then grabbed a box of the bandaids with some Marvel super heroes on them and placed them in the cart as well. "You need bandaids too?"
"No, those are for you still."
"I don't really use these tho."
"Well, you're gunna start."
He gave Thomas a puzzled look. "Why?"
"Because they heal boo-boos faster, everyone knows that."
John scoffed. "No they don't."
"Uh, yeah they do."
"Thomas, they're more expensive then regular bandaids because of the stupid characters, and I have pleanty of regular bandaids at home."
"These aren't regular bandaids, John. They're...like, magic, okay?"
"The fuck?" John giggled. "No they aren't!"
"Oh what, you can have a shark for a dick all a sudden but I can't find you some magic bandaids at the store?"
He smiled, catching on to what Thomas was trying to do and enjoying seeing how flustered Thomas looked. For all his stoic, aloof mannerisms, the Virginian was actually pretty cute when he bothered to show emotions. "Okay," John relented, "They're magic. Is it Because of the super heroes?"
"No, the Hello Kitty ones will also work. You want the Hello Kitty ones instead?" Thomas picked up a pink box and shook it as if it might intimidate John into behaving.
"Sure," John challenged him instead, flinching as Thomas tossed the box at him the same way he'd tossed the Tylenol. "Wait, no!" he laughed as Thomas snatched the super heroes away and put them back on the shelf. "I wanted the super heroes too!"
"Tough tits, you only get one box of magic bandaids a trip," Thomas said, smirking down at him as he pushed the cart away. "Okay, say bye-bye bandaid aisle, we're leaving now!"
"Oh, I don't think so," John said with his own smirk, picking up the box of pink bandaids and making an attempt to basketball toss them over Thomas's head. He thought he was gunna make it, but Thomas seemed to have better reflexes as he let go of the cart and caught them before they could even sail over his head, then skipped and grabbed the cart before it could roll off into a display. John looked really impressed. "Damn, good catch."
"You mad you didn't wanna go out with me yet?"
"Don't you have a new boyfriend now?"
Thomas's cocky smirk faded some as he dropped the bandaids back in the basket. "You can still be jealous, it's okay."
"Thanks, I'd rather not be," John said.
"Hmm, well you let me know if you change your mind."
"Sure, I'll do that."
Thomas wheeled them back to the checkout line, dropping a candy bar into the cart as they idled in the queue and asking John if he wanted one too. He declined, and took to studying Thomas once more as he frowned at tabloids and magazine covers while they waited for their turn. When they got to the front, John suddenly realized that he hadn't grabbed his wallet when they'd left and yet Thomas merely pushed that cart out of the way as if he'd never even expected John to pay. As Thomas was wheeling the cart out to his truck a moment later, his head distractedly looking about for cars to avoid, John realized this was the first time he'd ever felt truly grateful to have Thomas around. Maybe he was a jerk sometimes, but John was having a hard time finding anything at fault with him lately and he was also realizing for the first time how much he actually kinda wanted to get to know Thomas better.
But these feelings were uncomfortable, given what Thomas had put him through, and he realized that even if he was starting to trust him again John wasn't ready to admit it out loud. So he put a lockdown on his thoughts and resolved to wait and see where things went before he opened up anymore.