TRIGGER WARNING: Attempted Suicide.
Christmas isn't that far, Rocinante hums to himself at the thought of buying a few sweaters for Law, just out of pure entertainment. Those ugly ones you get at a thrift store that smell terrible, but make for good pictures. Knows Law will look like the biggest grump, much more than he already does, and it'll be hilarious.
He thinks about it while he's home, doing some cleaning. He doesn't know how long it's been since he last swept the floors, dust all over the nick knacks on the shelves, under the big pieces of furniture. Stuck to the wooden floor. Thinks about what he should make for dinner while he's cleaning. Kind of wants to order a pizza, really. It's been long since he had one. Maybe he'll order two, take them up to Law's and make the boy stuff his face, because god knows he needs to eat.
He pulls out his phone to call Law, ask him what toppings he wants because the boy is so damn picky if he puts a single thing he doesn't like on it, he'll refuse to eat any of it. He's got a couple messages. Some from his annoying as hell brother he'll ignore again. One from Law, thinks it's something stupid, like telling him to turn down his music because he can hear it through the floors. But it's just a single word.
Sorry.
And Rocinante thinks about what he could be apologizing for. Nothing in particular comes to mind, and then he remembers the last time this had happened, and everything comes rushing back. He recognizes this kind of message from Law. Checks the time on the text, he'd gotten it twenty minutes ago. Drops everything in his hands but his phone and runs out of his apartment. Doesn't bother to lock the door, or even close it completely.
Nothing matters. He can't find a single thing inside him that manages to care about anything other than Law's well being. Hopes he hasn't done anything yet, hopes it's just a silly text with no serious meaning behind it. Maybe he's just overreacting, that Law had a reason for apologizing but damn the period at the end makes everything so much more serious it only drives him crazier.
He gets to Law's apartment as fast as his feet could take him, fumbles with the keys and finally unlocks the door. Storms in and shouts Law's name out but no one answers.
"Oi Law!" He shouts again, still nothing. Looks around and notices his stuff is on the floor, so he has to be home. His keys on the kitchen counter, so he has to be home. Walks to Law's bedroom, it's a mess. He sighs and calls out Law's name again, still nothing. Turns to go to the bathroom, doors locked.
And he thinks fuck no the kid can't be serious.
"LAW!" He shouts, bangs on the door but no one answers. He can hear a groan coming from the other side he knows he's in there.
"LAW!" He shouts again, bangs harder he feels like his knuckles break, or at least bruise from how hard he's banging.
"LAW! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW!" He's yelling as loud as he possibly can. Doesn't give a damn if any of the neighbours can hear him. Doesn't give a damn about the door either, kicks it a couple times until the damned lock breaks.
And there's Law, on the floor leaning against the bathtub. Eyes half closed and shit. Rocinante stops, as the door swings open. Feels like his hearts just skipped a few beats and could stop entirely at any second. Like he'd just gotten the air punched out of is gut. It's his worst nightmare, Law doing something like this and leaving him. Rocinante's never seen Law look like this in his life. Never thought he'd have to. Thinks he's going to lose his fucking mind before he can get the boy any help. He freezes for a second, and then lunges at Law. Grabs his face, starts sweating and panicking. Feels angry and scared all at once his emotions are a jumbled mess.
"Fuck, FUCK!" He swears, holds Law's head up straight with his hands, since Law doesn't seem to be able to do that himself. Wipes off the drool or, whatever it is that's dripping out of his mouth. His skin feels way too hot compared to the creepy ice cold face and his throat goes dry because he can't stand seeing Law like this. All limp and barely even alive, hardly able to open his eyes. Feels so angry at him, feels guilty for feeling angry. He knows his anger is misplaced, because he knows it's not entirely his fault. It's not his fault at all. He's been under so much pressure for such a long time, and he's lasted for so long without doing this.
"What the fuck did you take?! HEY! ANSWER ME! LOOK AT ME LAW YOU HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU FUCKING TOOK!" He shouts, he can't comfort him. He can't, there's no way he could. He's so angry, every word that comes out of his mouth is mixed with the next, and every sentence is a jumbled mess.
"Law Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck were you thinking?!" He asks when he notices an empty orange pill bottle. Law's grip isn't even able to hold onto it any more. Doesn't get an answer other than a low groan that makes Law sound like he's in the most excruciating pain. Doesn't like the way it sounds.
"How long ago did you take these?!" He demands to know, holding Law's head up with one hand, the other holding the pill bottle wihth such force he could break the plastic if his grip tightened any more. Only gets another groan. Not what he wanted to hear, but he'll take it because at least Law's fucking responsive.
Rocinante's never felt such a rush of fear before in his entire life. He doesn't know whether or not he should try to make Law puke. Doesn't know if the pills he took are the kind that can be thrown up after taking, especially the amount. He knows some pills are worse than others, that the chemicals could burn the inside of his throat and mouth. But he panics, because Law's not looking any better, looks fucking terrible. He doesn't have enough time to think.
"Come on now you gotta stay with me okay, you have to hurl it out," He says, tears well up in his eyes and his own voice is shaky because he has no fucking clue what he's doing. Holds him up and opens his mouth, shoves a finger down his throat and Law gags, but nothing comes out. Rocinante curses, does it again, this time Law gags and instinctly bites down on his fingers. Hard enough to draw blood and Rocinante winces at the pain but he's more in pain at the sight of Law than the canines in his fingers. Pulls them out because it's not doing anything. He looks like a corpse in his arms already.
Feels worse because he thinks he's made the entire situation ten times worse than it already was by trying to make Law throw up. Freaks out and wonders if Law should even throw up in the first place. Feels like shit for putting such a pained look on Law's face by trying to get him to. Law tears through closed eyelids and Rocinante can tell he's in pain. Keeps drooling down his chin. The pain painted on his face and he's shaking in Rocinante's arms like he's holding on for dear life.
Wipes away Law's tears because it gives him so much pain to see him like this. Gently tries to slap his face, to keep his eyes open. To keep him awake. He doesn't do it too hard, doesn't want to hurt Law anymore than he already has. And he's so sorry that he has, he didn't mean to. He's just so desperate to keep Law awake, to keep him conscious he'll do anything. He can't just let him sleep and never wake up again. He can't.
"Christ Law," He swears, checks his pulse and breathing for a few quick seconds before trying to induce vomiting again. He can barely see through his own teary eyes. Can't hold Law as still as he'd like to, can't stop shaking at how crazy, how surreal all of this is.
"God fucking damn it why won't you just puke?!" He shouts, his tears now falling down onto Law's face. Keeps him held up with one arm and takes out his phone with the other, dials 911 as fast as his fingers can press three numbers. Lets it ring, feels himself panicking because Law's so damned important to him he doesn't know what he'll do if he loses the kid.
"Why the fuck would you do something like this, Law?!" He asks, doesn't expect an answer. Wonders if he'd been neglecting Law recently. If he'd slipped up somehow somewhere in the past few hours or days or anytime this week. The pit in his stomach grows bigger, makes him feel like a failure for allowing this to happen. He'll take a groan, he will. But he doesn't get one, just a slow attempt at opening his lids and then they shut. And don't open after that.
"Hey, HEY! Don't close your eyes do you hear me?!" He says, gives Law's shoulder a gentle shake. Sees his eyes try to open but then close. Looks like they're too heavy to keep open. Or that he's giving up. Doesn't care. Of course he doesn't, why the fuck else would he have done this otherwise. Swears continuously while the phone rings and shouts at no one, to hurry the fuck up and pick up. Because he doesn't have all the time in the damn world right now. He needs someone to pick up. Now.
After what seems like an eternity to Rocinante, but in reality was about fifteen seconds, a lady answers the phone. Asks what his emergency is and the words couldn't come out any quicker than they do. Says he needs a fucking ambulance as fast as possible because his son, pretty much, has just swallowed a fuck ton of pills and he doesn't know how long ago, but he's pretty sure it was long enough for him to start feeling the effects. She doesn't have the chance to ask for the address, Rocinante shouts into the phone, repeatedly where they're at and she says that someone will be there soon, that an ambulance will come and that Law will be okay.
She acts like she knows, he yells at her to not say shit she can't back up because he'll be really fucking destroyed if it ends up any other way.
She asks how his heart rate is, how many beats he's got per minute, if he's even still breathing and Rocinante doesn't know, he can't manage to calm down enough to count. But he has to, so he tries. He says it's about 55, 56 maybe. And the woman says okay, to keep an eye on him, keep counting and make sure it doesn't go any lower. Make sure he doesn't stop breathing, but if he does, to start CPR.
He says okay, that he'll do everything he can through the tears in his eyes and the shakiness of his body to keep Law alive. To make sure he doesn't die on the damn bathroom floor. Every thirty seconds it seems, she asks how he's doing. He says fine, but nothing about this is fine. It's so fucked up, it's screwing with his head. The way Law looks just laying there on the floor, as if he really is lifeless. Can't bring his hand to leave his neck, where he continues to count. 1. 20. 28. 29. 40. 46. 52. And a minute passes.
1. 12. 25. 29. 37. 46. 49. 52. Another minute passes.
A few minutes later there's another man hovering over him. He doesn't know where he came from or when they got there, a few others follow. They ask him to step aside, let them do their job but like hell he's going to just up and move. Law's his son, he's not going to move, or leave. Doesn't have much of a choice when the man tells him he needs to, so they can help Law.
Rocinante watches as they start giving him CPR, doesn't know why they're doing that. Because he was just breathing, he was just fucking breathing.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" He shouts, needs to know what's going on. Doesn't want to be in the dark. A man behind asks him to move so they can get Law onto a stretcher, and they take him out of the apartment.
"We have to keep him breathing. If it slows down anymore than this it could be bad." The man says, pushes Law onto his side and the other two slide the long ass piece of plastic that they strap him to. Lift him up and he looks so damned lifeless Rocinante hates it.
In the ambulance, they ask Rocinante if they know what Law took. He was too busy trying to help Law to check, but suggests it could have been his medication for his bipolar disorder he had been taking for a couple of months. Symbax. They ask him if he knows why Law would do it, and he tells him he's been suicidal for years. All these questions, he's irritated. Keeps asking why they aren't doing anything to get that shit out of his system. The man tells him they have to monitor his heart rate as he hooks Law up to an IV that Rocinante wonders what it is, but doesn't ask because he's sure they're doing what they can to help. They have to. That's their fucking job. He watches Law's heart rate on the monitor, hears it beep after beep after beep.
Thanks god it's not flat line.
"Law, Law I love you. He can hear me right?" He asks the medic.
"It's possible." The man tells him and Rocinante nods, wipes away his tears and grabs Law's hand that is way too cold.
"You know you were never a burden on me. Never, okay?" He tells him, doesn't even know if he can get to him now.
"Never once did I think of you like that. Ever. Fuck Law, you have to stay, you have to make it though." He says, can't hold his tears back by blinking. And he's blinking fucking hard.
"What am I supposed to do if you…" He says, trails off because he can't even think about it, let alone say it. Doesn't ever want to say something like that. He'd probably lose his mind, jus hearing the words come out of his mouth.
"Do you remember when you were younger and you told me you wanted to be a doctor?" He asks, doesn't get a reply. Just hears constant beeping from the monitor and the medics muttering between each other on Law's condition. "You wanted to do it so bad, you studied your ass off, remember?" He says, chokes while he speaks because he's trying so damn hard to hold it back. The ride to the hospital has never seemed so fucking long before. "You said you'd do it. And I believed you- I still do. You can still do it so please Law, please."
He's also never prayed to god as much as he has in the past thirty minutes. Doesn't care if he begs, he needs Law to stay alive, for his own selfish reasons. Can't lose him. He notices Law's heart rate starts to slow down, asks what the fuck is happening because that's not supposed to happen. The man tells him he needs to let them do their job. He keeps asking, tells them he needs to fucking know. That he has the right to know, he's his guardian and Law's the closest thing to real family he's got.
"You know you're more important to me than my own brother, Law. So fucking please." He says, he begs. Doesn't care how desperate he sounds, because that's all he feels. The desperation for Law to stay.
And the ambulance stops moving before he can get any answers, watches the doors fly open and the three men in the back finish hooking Law up to a few other tubes before people come around and pull him out. He demands this time, to know what the hell is going on. And one of the ems men tell him that Law's not going as good as he should be. That it's going down hill, and that trying to flush out the drugs with fluids isn't enough.
That's all he gets. That it's not enough.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?! YOU HAVE TO KEEP HIM ALIVE!" He shouts, grabs the man by his shoulders. Tells him he better get his fucking ass in gear and save Law otherwise he'll never forgive him. The man tells him they'll do everything they can. And damn right they will.
Steps out of the ambulance and the air is cold, he feels it in his bones, even though his skin feels like it's steaming. He can't stop sweating and can't stop shaking. Feels like he barely has enough energy to move from the back of the ambulance and into the hospital where he watches Law be pulled in. Doesn't have enough energy to support himself on his two shitty legs that drop him everywhere. He doesn't want to trip now, tries to walk as close behind the stretcher as he can. Feels like such a selfish man because he thinks he's in pain, when he sees the look on Law's face. And it's so fucking obvious he's the one really suffering. He's been suffering all this time. Watches him get rushed into the ER and he can't stop thinking of the possible what if's. Doesn't take his eyes off Law while the paramedics fill in some higher status looking doctors. Telling them what they know.
That Law's heart rate keeps slowing down; no matter how many fluids they start pumping him with through IV. One man says to get him ready, that they'll pump his stomach and flush it out with charcoal. Rocinante just stares, thinks it can't be this fucking bad. A doctor tells him to stand back, that he can't go into the room they push Law's stretcher into.
"What the fuck do you mean I can't go inside?! I'M THE ONLY FAMILY HE HAS AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO STAND THE FUCK OUTSIDE?!" He shouts, the doctor tries to make him understand.
"We're aware you're all he has. But right now he needs all the focus our doctors and nurses can give him. You have to wait out here, I'm sorry-"
"No, NO! Don't give me that crap are you fucking kidding me?! He's my son you can't keep me out of there!" He says. Tries to push past the doctor but a couple of men hold him back. Tell him he has to stand back otherwise they'll have to escort him out. Tell him to wait in the designated waiting area while they do all they can to save Law. He tells them there's no fucking way in hell he's going to go sit and wait away from this door. He'll stand, he doesn't care. But he's not leaving the vicinity.
No one tries to push him any further; only one man is left to pretty much guard the door to prevent Rocinante from walking in anyways.
He can't help but start crying again. The thought of not being able to be right next to Law through makes him break down harder than he'd imagined he would. Backs away from the people holding him away from barging into the room like a barbarian and curses himself for not noticing the signs. Not noticing how bad it'd gotten for Law. Just stands outside the door, looks in and watches people hover over him, pull out tubes and a lady comes and closes the curtain on the only window he was able to look in from. Swears to himself he's going to strangle her or something for it.
It really all hits Rocinante at once. That there's nothing he can do now, and he feels he didn't do nearly enough for Law. He can't stay right by his side like he should. It's all up to the doctors. He should have spent more time with him while he had the chance if he'd known this was the last night he'd ever see him. If he'd known that the last thing he'd get from Law was a damn text message saying sorry.
He feels like he should be the one apologizing. It's his fault he wasn't good enough to help him. Reminisces all the possible signs that he might have missed and how shitty he feels because of it. That he should have been the parent Law needed and tried harder to understand his point of view instead of half assing it. Forcing stupid coffee prohibitions and preaching that Law should exercise like someone ignorant to the illness.
Starts crying while standing in front of the door and can't bring himself to keep standing there, so he walks away. Walks down the hall and towards the room he was told a million times to wait in. Feels terrible, like even now he's abandoning him.
The doctors get working, hook him up to a new IV with fluids to flush out any of the toxins that may have entered his blood stream already and to a few new monitors to keep his vitals stable.
With Law being unconscious, it makes it easier for the doctors to insert an endotracheal tube down his throat, to protect his airway from breathing in any of the stomach fluids into his lungs. Then carefully turn him to his left side, head lowered, insert a lubricated tube through his mouth and down his esophagus, into his stomach. They begin the suction through the tube, until every single fragment of the pills he'd taken are removed. Until there's nothing left to suck out.
Then they wash out his stomach with salt water. Repeatedly, until the fluids that come out of his stomach are clear.
Then Law's given activated charcoal, with a cathartic. To absorb the drugs that may still be in his stomach and speed up the emptying of his intestines.
And they work quickly, because they assume it's been over an hour since Law had taken the pills. Have to work as swiftly and efficiently as they can to keep the drugs from being absorbed into his blood stream.
To keep him alive.
Rocinante paces back and forth. Down the hall, past other rooms then past Law's again, no one comes out so he repeats it. Walks down the same hall at least twenty times, he doesn't really know he never kept count or anything. Time just seems to be going as slow as possible and he's begging for it to speed up but no such thing happens.
He doesn't have anyone else to call. Anyone else to tell. Because he and Law had always been two little peas in a pod alone from the moment he'd lost his parents. He doesn't know what he'd do if it took a turn for the worst. Doesn't know what the fuck he'll do even now. Just sit and wait for someone to tell him Law's okay, is all he can pray for. Thinks Law's a selfish ass bastard for doing this. For not telling him how bad he was feeling, especially this time of year. For not coming to him when he was in need. For everything.
Thinks he's a bit selfish for expecting Law to come to him with every single problem he has, at any given opportunity. There were plenty for him to just come up to him and say 'Damn I'm not feeling so good it's the worst I've been feeling in a fucking long ass time. And I need you to help me. Or just listen to me get it all out because I cant keep it inside any longer.' Or something. Anything.
Then he hates himself for not being the one to have noticed how he was. How bad the state he's been in for a month now was. Blames himself, because if he'd known, this wouldn't have happened.
Bounces his legs and keeps his hands folded and propped up on his knees. Keeps praying. Won't stop praying until someone comes out and tells him that Law's okay. That Law will be fine, he'll live.
It's been an hour, and no one comes to tell him that.
A/N: I am so sorry for keeping you guys on edge. And even more so now. Bare with me, please. You know I love hearing from you, so please let me know what you think! Lots of love. ~S