"I'm also prepared," Remus announced proudly and reached into a drawer next to a couch, pulling out a pouch of saltines. They opened it up and held a cracker in Virgil's face. "Go on, I can clock a vom face at twenty paces, this'll help," they insisted, wiggling the cracker between two fingers. Virgil couldn't pull his hands off of his stomach, so he just leaned in to bite it out of Remus's hand. He pulled it into his mouth and chewed at it slowly.
When Virgil finally swallowed, Remus put another cracker in his face, so he went for it again. The announcement of the other bartender's arrival came with a loud cackle bursting from the barroom. They returned as Virgil accepted the cracker from Remus's fingers with his teeth, and he blushed wildly and lowered his head to hide under his hood while he chewed. They said nothing, so maybe they didn't notice, but also they could have seen it and the idea mortified Virgil. He was mad at his stupid hands and their inability to let go of his cramping innards.
"Thanks," Virgil mumbled after he swallowed and Remus fed him another one. The stomach cramps were lightening up a bit at least. He was incredibly worried about the contents of his belly not staying there for a minute.
"Hey, can you bring back a lime and tonic? Virgil's feelin' pukey," Remus requested, shooting the other bartender a brief wave. Now Virgil was even more embarrassed.
"Sure," the bustier bartender responded with a warm smile. Virgil flinched from the bar noise when they left. It was another two crackers until they returned, and Virgil heard the glass on the table as he took the snap from Remus's hand this time. "You gon' be alright, honey? Remus is back on shift in like five minutes," the bartender inquired sweetly.
"I'm going to try, and that's all I've got," Virgil mumbled as he nibbled his cracker.
"Fair 'nough. Good luck, Remus," the other bartender that worked with Janus stated with a small wave.
"Thanks." Remus shifted slightly and grabbed the glass for Virgil, who took it. He felt embarrassed once more as the bartender retreated.
"She's right. I'm not off for another two-ish hours. If you choose to leave, I'll walk you out when I go back outside and you can cover your eyes and ears through the bar," Remus gave him a possible out, giving Virgil's shoulders an incredibly tender, reassuring squeeze in the process.
"No, I'm… did you mean it when you offered to drive me home? I'm still too scared of walking and I don't know if I'll manage the hip pain without drinking," Virgil asked hopefully and drew a sip of the tonic.
"You're not going to drink more tonight?" Remus's tone sounded deeply disbelieving.
"I'm trying to prove that I'm not an addict," Virgil stated sourly. "I'm at least not chugging so much it would deal with the hip injury," he grumbled and grabbed another cracker to nibble on. He would have to get pretty plastered for how much his hip bone hurt.
"To whom are you trying that with? It's a good idea, but you're not convincing anybody that isn't you." Remus chuckled heartily. Well, shit. Virgil's face fell, and he looked down. "Yeah, I meant it when I offered to take you home and I vow to not drive you anywhere you don't want me to." They held out their little finger to Virgil. Wow, he hadn't made a pinky promise in a while. Virgil wrapped his pinky around Remus's and shook it. It helped him feel better, though he couldn't understand why.
"So, say I am an addict—"
"You're an addict," Remus cut him off.
"Fuck you," Virgil grumbled indignantly. "How much should I drink tonight so I don't start going through withdrawal in the middle of the week? You might know me more than I do," he inquired nervously.
"A double, probably? It's supposed to take close to 24 hours, and dropping off suddenly could be bad no matter what. I'm not a doctor or anything, call your insurance's nurse line. I think with how much you drink, the only safe way is inpatient. Just try to get out there before the last call and don't pound 'em, at least." Remus patted Virgil's arm and took the cup to put it on the table. They looked at him pointedly, and Virgil shrunk back and nodded in agreement.
Remus handed Virgil the pack of crackers and got up from the couch, leaving Virgil alone on the seat. It was noticeably colder without them next to him. Shit, shit, shit, Virgil couldn't call his insurance. Did he need to get drunk within 24 hours or was alcohol in his system what's important? Virgil flinched back from the sound as the door opened when Remus left. Virgil pulled out his phone to research it since he would be more comfortable with some kind of solid information.
A google search illuminated nothing. Virgil couldn't handle looking at the screen for long, and he found conflicting advice. He was just going to trust Remus about that double. It sounded reasonable. He had a plan. He could be okay with that. He didn't prefer to, but he'd have to. Virgil languidly munched a few more crackers.
Chewing and focusing on the crackers or his bubbly tonic seemed to be enough to settle his stomach, and it stopped cramping angrily at him. Virgil thankfully laid down and closed his eyes. He wished he had a blanket since he was still cold and wanted some comfort, but he was in a strange place on borrowed hospitality as it was. He just needed to calm down so he could join Janus at the bar. Virgil inhaled a heavy breath and stared ahead blankly, exhaling gradually between parted lips.
— ≛ —
Virgil couldn't believe he fell asleep another time. He checked his watch and had passed out for a solid three hours. That was twelve hours of sleep total in a single day. That meant there were only two options for tonight. He was not sleeping later or edging towards slipping into a full-fledged coma. Virgil regularly had terrible insomnia, and he knew that was from the coke. He did extra today, so he had absolutely no idea how he fell asleep at all, but he's slept three days' worth in one. Another sign he was very, very not okay.
He hated how obvious the signs were now that the dam burst. Virgil would get outed as a user if he got jaundice from liver failure, and it sounded like Janus thought it would happen soon. Virgil never took a vacation. He didn't enjoy staying at home alone and didn't have friends he knew of to spend the time with. Virgil didn't understand the point of travelling if he couldn't remember it, either. He had at least two weeks of vacation days built up because of that, so he could try Janus's route.
Admitting it to himself in his head was one thing. He could see now that he had a problem. That possibly his lifestyle in itself was sad in retrospect, even though it sounds great on paper. Recognizing that he had a problem out loud… to medical professionals… his insurance… hell, also to Janus and Remus who have been roasting him about it non-stop, was entirely another situation. He had to force himself to take the vacation days and check himself in, or he needed to deal with it on his own. He didn't like either option.
Virgil had a deep, stabillizing breath and looked around. He was feeling a little better. The bar noise didn't sound as loud, and the stained-glass bulb lamp wasn't bothering him. Maybe he required more sleep. Remus told him he had to take a nap after his last panic attack. Virgil just had to take a longer one this time. The nights of sleeplessness had caught up with him today. That made sense.
Or perhaps everyone was overreacting and he was actually fi—oh, for christ's sake. Why was it so easy to find excuses, too? Remus said his addiction was looking for excuses. Was seeking reasons to be fine another sign that he wasn't, in the end? Virgil sighed darkly and glanced at the door.
It was time to face the music. Well, first he had to pee. Virgil saw one door in here that had a bathroom label and ducked in. He was thankful he had a few more moments before braving the bar. He washed his face while he was in the single-style bathroom and gripped the sink while he reassured himself. Virgil could drink less tonight. The bar would already be winding down this late. He didn't have to stomach everything. He only had to handle not getting drunk and riding home with a stranger. Well. Not a stranger, technically. If Virgil managed to convince himself Remus was a friend, the ride would be much easier on him.
He placed his palm on the door out to the main bar floor and inhaled sharply before dragging it open. He braced himself for the canon of noise, but the volume was alright now. It immediately relieved Virgil to not get bombarded with sounds. He felt like he was in trouble coming out of this door, though, and closed it behind him and rushed to the bar.
Virgil climbed onto his regular seat and peered around. Janus was swaying a shaker and talking animatedly to another bar patron. Virgil slid onto the barstool carefully. After the nap, his hip felt better, too. It was still sore, but he could handle the barstool as long as he kept his feet on the bar and didn't dangle them. He waited patiently until the other customer left, unwilling to interrupt Janus at work.
Before Virgil had a chance to gain Janus's attention to order, his eyes caught on him and Janus's face fell. He walked up to Virgil sullenly and frowned at him. "What can I get you, Virgil?" Janus looked incredibly defeated, his normal verve crushed by a slouch and deep frown.
"Um… a whiskey sour, double, the way I like it." Virgil held up two fingers. Janus sighed and his head drooped down, sagging further. "And then no more alcohol after that, please," Virgil added weakly, slumping in his shoulders, feeling terrible for making Janus feel that way.
"What was that?" Janus glanced up at Virgil.
"Virgin drinks after this one. I'm trying… not to push it, I guess. Thanks for caring," Virgil explained meekly, curling in further. Janus gripped the bar and looked so relieved he could cry, surprising Virgil out of balling up. "I'm sorry in advance if I'm a jerk." Virgil leaned on an arm and tried to give Janus a reassuring smile instead of assuming the fetal position. Janus bent forward across the bar and took Virgil's hand with both of his.
"You mean it? If you ask for alcohol after this, I can suggest something else?" Janus looked pleadingly at Virgil. Virgil felt his face grow hot, and he glanced about to make sure nobody was looking at them before nodding sheepishly. "Thank the stars, I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out," He admitted, his expression losing that crestfallen quality. "This is why I don't get close to customers. But no, you have to be so sweet and funny and likable. The gall!" Janus talked with a hand puppet and a sarcastic tone, and Virgil couldn't help but laugh at that reaction. "It'll be the best damn whiskey sour you ever had." Janus smacked the bar with his hand and turned around for the top-shelf whiskey. He jiggled it with a smirk before turning back to mixing the drink.
Virgil leaned on his hands to admire the showmanship and skill. Janus mixed drinks with such panache. He did things with a flourish, and it was nice to watch. Virgil could appreciate theatricality. He had the double in front of him in short order, with Janus smiling with both hands on his hips. Virgil picked it up and took a good swig of it, swishing it around before swallowing.
"Fuck yes," Virgil breathed out in sheer satisfaction and put the glass down on a coaster. "That is the best damn whiskey sour I ever had," he agreed with a smile to Janus, who beamed back at him.
"If you want something after this, you can do a virgin Bloody Mary. We have a pre-mixed pitcher. It's much more your flavour profile than a Shirley Temple. I could also try to make a virgin Sawyer, but you'd have to taste test for me. I bought non-alcoholic spirits, but I've never tried a single one." Janus sounded honest-to-god excited as he leaned against the bar towards Virgil. Virgil actually felt more positive about the whole situation.
"I couldn't get them wholesale, though, they'll cost a tad more than regular drinks. Likely a dollar extra if you'll be my guinea pig. Once I make up a non-alcoholic menu, I'll price them proper," Janus explained excitedly as he paced behind the bar. Virgil sipped his drink as he observed Janus with his hands gesticulating in the air. Wow, he was kind of a dork, huh? He looked so smooth and suave in the pin-striped vest, Virgil didn't see that coming.
"Sure." Virgil nodded in compliance. "Being a tester sounds fun. Much better than some unholy sugar fest." Virgil smirked, glad to have other options until he realized why Janus might have those, and his face fell immediately. "Did you… order all those for me?" Virgil inquired gingerly, feeling guilty already.
"Well, having a full non-alcoholic menu would draw business," Janus hummed, tapping his chin. "But honestly, yes. I was planning to slip you non-alcoholic drinks when you had enough to not notice, just for my sanity's sake. It's much better to do it with you aware. It would have been easy to get caught, which would have been unpleasant for both of us," He explained plainly as he drummed his fingers on the bar. He wasn't wrong. Virgil weakly chuckled to himself and someone else came up to order a drink, so Virgil sat back and enjoyed seeing Janus look happy and his whiskey sour.
Janus deposited a glass of water with a lemon next to Virgil in between the next few orders he fulfilled. It probably was another 'not a request' kind of thing like his water earlier. Virgil took a few gulps to help prove to Janus he was making an attempt at being better, which earned one of those sly grins while he continued to work.
It felt good to say he was trying for once. He still would get a mild buzz from the double, too, so it wasn't the worst compromise he'd ever made. It was an absolutely incredible whiskey sour. Virgil's tongue went slightly numb from the sourness. Remus told Virgil he had to quit the coke before his heart failed, but they didn't mention alcohol. Virgil could simply have one big drink a night. Perhaps he could make this work.
Virgil withdrew his phone to learn about quitting cocaine. Remus said he needed to be hospitalized and Janus thought Virgil required rehab to be safe, he wanted to see if he could quit doing blow at home instead. He didn't need to stop enjoying the snow in the slightest, but he could just become a caffeine addict like his other co-workers. It had basically no effect on him right now, but if it was legal, it was probably safer. Starting his morning with a triple-shot espresso didn't sound bad. He couldn't sneak away to get a pick-me-up quite the same as just rubbing some coke in his gums when he was in his office's on-suite bathroom, but he could put his own coffee machine in his office. Virgil clicked onto the next page to keep reading.
Oh. This website informed him quitting wouldn't be that clean or easy. Of course, it wouldn't. That would be too nice for Virgil. Cocaine and alcohol addiction combined meant it was potentially fatal to quit blow on his own. If he only did cocaine, he could stop safely in private, though most of the resources stated he might relapse without a program. Remus mentioned that he relapsed three times, so that was believable. He skied little on the weekends and rarely hit the slopes on Sundays. He never went through withdrawal on the days he didn't use it. Virgil felt fine, even. But one day wasn't enough, or something. He wasn't able to claim he understood it. He couldn't affirm he was even addicted, honestly. A big part of him thought everyone was overreacting.
There was probably an online quiz for this. He already had two people telling him he was addicted, but he just couldn't believe them. Maybe a test would be more impartial and he wouldn't have to see a doctor to do it. Virgil entered the query into the search bar and found one. The questions were quick, and he answered as honestly as possible so the answer would be correct. Damnit. 'Seek immediate help' isn't what he wanted to hear from the results.
It could be that test was stupid. Most online tests were, right? Virgil searched for another quiz. There was plenty, for some reason. Fuck. The same result. Not that one. Shit. Not that quiz either. Okay, last one. Doctors made this next test, and it's a reputable website. This test had to be the most accurate and impartial, right? Virgil clicked through it hopefully. Fuck. Virgil dropped his brain to the bartop in defeat.
"Please tell me you're still alive." Janus poked Virgil. Virgil pulled himself up with a sigh. "Don't drop suddenly against the bar, you nearly gave me a heart attack." He grasped his chest, looking relieved.
"Sorry." Virgil huffed his bangs out of his face. "I'm just feeling defeated, I'll try to be careful." He leaned on one arm and picked up his whiskey to sip it again.
"Did you wish to order another drink?" Janus raised an eyebrow at him.
"I'd probably kill for one when I've finished this." Virgil held his drink aloft with a lost expression. "I just don't like how I can't trust my own fucking brain. It keeps saying I'm fine even when no matter where I look, something is telling me I'm not." Virgil put down the drink and flashed Janus the test results on the phone screen.
"Seek immediate help is expert advice," Janus smiled knowingly, and Virgil could only sigh in response. Janus wasn't wrong, seeing as the test results showed were written by professionals. "So, scheduling that vacation to the 'Caribbean' yet?" He urged with an intense expression.
"I have to request time off from my workstation." Virgil shrugged dismissively, not wanting to give a straight answer.
"But are you going to?" Janus demanded pointedly, staring at Virgil. "I should warn you I can tell when people are lying to me and you have very loud body language," he added, holding up an empty glass to motion to Virgil before dispensing a beer into it and passing it off.
"I'm thinking about it." Virgil didn't wish to become trapped in a lie, especially about this. It was true he was pondering the possibility. He wasn't sure yet, though.
"That is not what I asked." Janus scowled at him intensely. "Will you check into rehab, or do I have to ban you from this bar so I can start grieving without having to watch you die?" His hands were flat on the bar counter, and he angled in to glare directly at Virgil. Holy shit.
"That's… so intense." Virgil leaned back a little, but his hurt hip protested.
"Virgil," Janus stated flatly.
"You want the truth, right? I'm weighing my options. Maybe I could do an outpatient thing. I don't—"
"Let me reiterate, you are in deep, deep shit, and things are not safe for you. Your liver will fail. It is simply a matter of when. You will need a hospital setting where you can be medicated and they can monitor your condition. I assume you have coke stashed everywhere, and even if I refuse to serve you, you can get alcohol elsewhere. You cannot be trusted in outpatient. You will want your vices. You will fight for said vices. I can guarantee you will throw up and have violent mood swings and even get suicidal. And you can easily google this to confirm it." Janus leaned closer on the counter, almost in Virgil's face. "Go to 'the Caribbean'. Throw out your coke somewhere you can't get it. And if I see you here again after your 'vacation', you better be ordering non-alcoholics or have a doctor's note saying one drink is okay. I look forward to seeing you when you're better. It's fine if it can't be here." Janus's tone was hard as he made his demands.
"Why the fuck would you want to see me again?" Virgil gripped at the bar, furrowing his eyebrows. That was an intense communication with so much to consider, but all Virgil could think about was how he was being a pain in the ass to Janus.
"I enjoy your company you, you dense dingbat, and I prefer to know if you're alive," Janus deadpanned, glowering at Virgil.
"I don't—"
"Virgil, am I banning you, or are you going to rehab?" Janus slammed his grip on the counter as he made his ultimatum, making Virgil jump.
"I'll schedule time off! I'll… um…" Virgil trailed off, not able to meet Janus's eyes.
"Wonderful. Give me your number so I can harass you into it tomorrow when you're floundering about it." Janus flipped his fingers at Virgil. Virgil passed over his phone. Janus texted himself from Virgil's cell and entered his contact information along with Remus's before passing it back. "I will check you in myself if I have to." Janus returned Virgil's phone, looking content. Virgil took it timidly and slid it into his pocket. He didn't need to confirm those symptoms. He already saw the warnings about withdrawal from the quiz results.
"If I'm not really addicted and they let me go, can I rub it in your face?" Virgil requested delicately.
"Absolutely." Janus nodded, standing up straight and putting his fist on his hip. "If they deem you safe, you may come straight here to tell me off, and I'll pay for your drinks. But if not, you're staying there and you're letting the medical professionals help you with the withdrawal." Janus shot Virgil a small smirk and turned back to tending the bar. Janus knew how much Virgil spent on mixed drinks nightly. So… that was an excellent deal.
Virgil could be happy about that. If he's right, he can rub it in his dumb face, and if Janus is right, Virgil gets help. It was a win-win. Well, rehab wouldn't be light on his wallet, but that would have to be liveable as long as nobody caught him and he got fired. Virgil smiled smugly, nodding to himself.
"I'll pick you a reputable centre and do all the research myself because I'm perfectly aware you won't. So I expect my regular good tip." Janus winked at him with a playful grin.
"That's fair." Virgil smiled weakly at him and nursed his drink again. "Remus said they'd take me home. Can I stay? I'll help close, or whatever it is you normally have me do," Virgil asked sheepishly. He wouldn't want to get Remus in trouble.
"Why did Remus offer you a ride?" Janus inquired curiously.
"They think I got mugged and I might have nearly had another panic attack about getting home because I think they're right. They also think I got pistol-whipped. If I get mugged, I might have to go to the hospital and I'm not ready yet, I really need to prepare for that I've avoided new doctors for years and I think my hip bone is bruised or something, and walking the mile really hurt and what if I fuck it up more by walking that far in one day and It's going to hurt if I try to walk home and if I do a rail for the pain, I'll never fall asleep and then I'll have to do more tomorrow because I didn't sleep to stay on top of it and then that night I'll just have another bad crash and panic attack if that's what those are and if Remus is right because they told me this has happened before and I don't want to be even more of a burden on you than I'm already being—"
"Virgil, take a great breath and sip your drink please." Janus reached over and turned his hand on Virgil's shoulder. He nodded shakily and did as he was told, then inhaled harshly after he put his drink down on the bar, letting the air out gradually. "Thank you. I am helping because I want to. I didn't catch all of that mad rambling, but I'm glad Remus will take you home. You can stay. If you help clean as usual, we can all get out of here faster." Janus rubbed Virgil's arm lightly, sporting a reassuring and concerned expression.
"… Okay." Virgil nodded and swallowed hard. He pounded half of his drink and exhaled hard. "Whatever you need me to do." He clutched at his glass. That rant was embarrassing, but at least he could stay. He wouldn't have to walk or be alone just yet.