Gus was aware that throughout this whole thing, he had stayed quieter than the others. At first it was just the whole, being nauseous around blood, but now, the nervous part of his personality was starting to rear it's ugly head.

Right now, he was the one driving, following Gretchen's car, and really wanted to focus on the road. TJ sat in the back, and already fell asleep, while Mikey, sitting in the passenger seat, was still wide awake.

It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to TJ, it was just he didn't know exactly what to say to him. How was he supposed to start a conversation with someone who wasn't interested in talking? He had a feeling that the most he would get out of TJ is short, one or two word answers.

Could he be blamed, though? When they were younger, he kinda looked up to him, so seeing TJ, all bloody with needles in his neck was a shock, to say the very least. There was no way that was safe. How did he even think of doing that? Or any of this? Gus had so many questions.

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By the time they were pulling up, TJ had woken up and it was already night. As much as he didn't want to come, he admitted to himself that the cabin was indeed big. Now all he hoped for was that they each got their own rooms. A large two story cabin with a wrap around porch, and right on a lake. Maybe it was big enough for him to get lost in and he could limit how much time he spent with them. And get a few cuts in. With how much attention his parents have been giving him this last few weeks, he wasn't able to do it.

The others were talking about how big it was and picking out rooms as they went inside. With Mikey carrying his bag, TJ took his time, trailing behind. Being in the car for hours didn't do his ribs any favors, but it wasn't something a few stretches couldn't take care of.

He followed them inside. The five of them were looking around, with their bags piled up just outside the living room. TJ opted for the kitchen, where none of them were. TJ sighed. He really was here for a week, huh? He needed to save up for a car or something.

TJ sat in one of the counter stools and pulled out his phone. He's been getting messages from people asking if he wanted to spend part of winter break with them. Of course he had to say no because they couldn't find out who he was.

As he took off his coat, TJ heard one of them calling him from upstairs.

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Spinelli and Vince we're sharing a room. the largest one with a queen bed, because of course. Gretchen found her own room, so did Mikey, which left the only extra bed for him in a room with Gus.

So far, out of all of the, Gus had approached him the least, and TJ hadn't given him much thought. As he wasn't going to bother and insert himself into his life, then TJ wasn't going to question it.

The most he got out of their brief interactions was that Gus was actually taller than him, which left him as the shortest out of all of them. Which was a hit to his self-esteem, but whatever.

"Hey, Teej. I guess we're roommates for the week," Gus said.

TJ nodded, and opted for sitting on the other bed. The room was spacious, giving them plenty of room between their beds, but at the moment, TJ didn't care about looking around. An ache settled on and around his ribs since he started climbing the stairs. Instead of subsiding, it was gradually getting worse. The only thing keeping him calm was that this wasn't the first time it happened. He focused on taking deep breaths and trying to get to his brace.

". . .Is something wrong?" Gus asked, noticing his strained breathing.

"My ribs," he breathed. He struggled to pull his sweater off and quickly changed to reaching under his tops. "I need my medication."

"Is it in your bag?"

"My jacket. . ." He fumbled with the strap to his brace. "It's in the pocket."

Gus nodded and ran downstairs to get it. When he ripped the brace off, TJ felt his ribs creek from the sudden release, but it was easier to breathe without it on. He tossed it on them bed, placed his hands on his sides and slowly leaned to the left, his ribs creaking with every inch of movement. Then to the right, then forward and back.

"I'm back, I got your medicine, and your bag, too," Gus said. He dropped the bag at the end of the bed and handed TJ the bottle, who immediately twisted off the top and took a couple pills dry.

"Thanks."

"Y-yeah, no problem," he said. "Would bath help? My dad has back problems but he says that soaking in a hot bath helps."

"I wouldn't be able to climb out of the tub."

"No, one of the bathrooms has one of those tubs you sit in," said Gus. "You know, one of those tall ones? C'mon, I'll show you."

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It was beautiful. A large, walk-in tub that he could just walk in, sit down, and soak. Sure the bathroom was pristine and had a window to the lake, but fuck that, TJ walked into that tub like his life depended on it. He grabbed one of the bath bombs in a basket nearby to add to it. This one smelled like lavender.

He ran his fingers through his hair to wet it. His stretches were removed a few days ago, and he could properly wash his hair, something long overdue. The hot water made it easier to lift his arms to do so as his muscles relaxed and he just melted.

"I have a question," Gus said when he returned with his bag. He knew Mikey said they weren't going to ask questions, but he had a lot to ask out of genuine curiosity.

"Yeah, what?" TJ asked, working a shampoo he found on a nearby shelf into his hair.

"You said you're a masochist, that you like pain right?" He asked. TJ nodded. "So if you like pain, then why is it so bad that your ribs hurt? Wouldn't you like that?"

"It's different." TJ paused to dip his head underwater to rinse his hair. "I'm tired right now, I'm not in the mood for it. And I can't sleep if it hurts that much."

"Oh. . .that makes sense, I guess," said Gus. The two of them heard the others calling for them downstairs. "I'll, uh, go tell them you're busy."

TJ watched him leave with half lidded eyes. This water was nice, and if he wouldn't drown, he'd love to fall asleep in it. It was nice being able to move his arms again. He grabbed a bottle of deep conditioner and generously put it in his hair. He ran his fingers over a panel of buttons on the edge of the tub. He pressed one, and bubbles came, giving him a very light massage.

Oh, yeah, he was going to spend the whole week here.

What kind of soaps did they have here. . .?

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