thechristopherfleiss :
F a t i g u e had taken hold of a sinewy body, encasing it in a blanket of ICE. Every breath that seeped over Chris’ lips — bloody where they had cracked — immediately dissolved into pale puffs of air, his joints all but frozen as he plodded forward through the snow.
We’re not going to make it. Chris heard those words in the back of his head like a ringing in his ears, or some second-rate CD player unable to read past the scratches on a CD, skipping over and over. We’re not going to make it. We’re not going to make it. We’re not— Just as Chris was certain that there would come no end to the snowy path that they’d been following for what felt like HOURS, that he’d failed to keep Josh safe, the dirt road morphed into glittering asphalt. ( Perhaps it was simply the fatigue that was planting all of these TOXIC THOUGHTS inside his brain, or . . . Or maybe it was the fear of losing Josh again, so soon after finding him. Whatever the reason, it was squeezing his throat shut, the small, cold hands of fear cutting off his breath with every step he took. )
At the mention of his name, Chris ripped his gaze away from the road and turned to Josh. The blonde could barely tell what the other was waving at until the car was almost next to them — his eyesight had never been his best feature, after all — &. the realization of what his best friend was trying to do didn’t hit him until Josh’ lips parted and words came p o u r i n g out. For a moment, Chris could only stare, heart BREAKING one syllable at a time.
❝ Josh. ❞ A warning, voice razor-sharp as digits reached out to grab Josh’ arm, pulling him back. ❝ She could be the next Ted fuckin’ Bundy for all we know. ❞ The last sentence was but a whisper, yet his tone was harsh, d i s b e l i e f woven through his words. Was Josh really going to blindly trust a total stranger ? Blue eyes shifted from Josh’ face to the woman, who was staring at the two of them as if she’d seen a ghost. How awful the two must look, covered in blood & grime, half-frozen in the middle of nowhere. And yet, she hadn’t driven off, like Chris would’ve, had he been in her shoes.
Before he could protest any longer, Josh was already climbing inside the woman’s SUV. A pause, in which Chris sighed deeply and muttered curses under his breath. They were never going to make it back to CIVILIZATION on their own— even Chris could see that —, but blue optics remained fixed on the woman as he climbed inside the car and plumped down on the leather seat. In hindsight, the blonde would conclude that he had not been fair to the driver— after all, the woman had s a v e d their lives. ( If she hadn’t picked the two up, they probably would have frozen to death in the snow. ) But at that moment in time, that didn’t even occur to the boy, instead muscles remained tense, his hands draped over a sleeping Josh as if to p r o t e c t him from the WORLD. It wasn’t until the SUV pulled up next to a hospital that Chris forced a ❝ T-thank you, ❞ across his lips. The woman, in return, gave him a small, sad smile before driving off as soon as the two boys had left the vehicle.
Chris’ eyes shifted, from the dark road where the car had been a moment ago, to the hospital. It was a huge building, with what seemed like a t h o u s a n d windows. Most of them were dark — Chris figured the occupants were sleeping — but behind some, bright LIGHTS burned, an imitation of the city lights that spread out beyond the building.
❝ C’mon, we’re almost done, ❞ came an incentive, the blonde’s fingertips pressed against the other’s bony back as he guided him to the door.
We’re going to make it.
No amount of movies could’ve prepared him for the reality of what came next. It was if everything had been scripted, as if he had been over the storyboards a thousand times and now he was the star of the show. Nurses took one look at a boy that barely clung on to humanity, something that med school never even thought to teach them about, and the following moments turned into a series of b l u r r e d actions as he was forced away from Chris’ arms with visible protest. Josh knew now that none of this was a delusion anymore and that, yes, he was a wreck of a man, but nothing could stop him from WAILING like an abandoned child as he was separated from the only person he could ever truly feel safe around.
One Josh was gone and his gut-wrenching cries had moved from earshot, a nearby doctor turned to Chris and eyed up the blonde’s body, checking him over to see if he was in anywhere near of a state than the shorter male. “ Are you hurt, sir?” He was questioned as a stunned s i l e n c e fell over the foyer following the events, only noise distant muttering regarding Josh’s face and what in God’s name could’ve happened to reduce him to such a frail, disturbing image. This was where Chris was told to stay by the professionals, among gossiping groups of patients waiting in the emergency room with the words ‘MONSTER’ and ‘TERRIFYING‘ as throwaway comments to describe the mentally and physically shattered individual that moments ago could barely even stand unassisted.
“ Chris for Joshua Washington? ” The words rang out after hours had passed, when the sun was just beginning to rise, bouncing off the walls of the waiting room to reach Chris’ ears. He was beckoned forward, addressed by an unfamiliar man with a blinding white coat and lanyard around his neck. “ He’s awake,” Was all that was spoken at first, even the professionals without words after seeing the walking miracle, the boy that should’ve surely been DEAD, “ But he’s very tired. It took a lot for him not to feel any pain, so Joshua probably isn’t fully coherent, but you’re all he’s been talking about.” The door to Josh’s separate room was then gestured to, inviting Chris to go and join the boy that needed nothing more than the company of his best friend.
Hanging in the limbo of consciousness and sleep, uncomfortably laid between papery sheets, he gazed toward the stark wall with pupils flitting as if following an invisible movie. There was a sort of morbid comfort, a safety within the clinical environment that reminded him of home despite the fact this was far from it. Beneath it all he was warm and so very safe, basic rights that the hellish tunnels had so very violently ripped from his grasp. Gauze shielded half of his face to cover the MASSACRE that crooked, long fangs had left on the battlefield of his cheek. Thank God he was a living, breathing morphine bag, so the intrusive ache of stitches was beyond the point of numbness, pain so far away it was as if he had left it on the thawing summit of Blackwood.
" I'm like.. Phantom Of The Opera," Josh was ever the joker and even this wouldn't put a stop to humor at his own expense. No laugh followed, though, as if the pain medications had soaked up every last emotion, leaving a blank expression that was so heartbreaking. It wasn’t Josh, or at least not the Josh people were used to. Not outspoken, confident, always at hand to offer a string of dick-jokes; merely a shell, a diluted version of what he once was worn away by what could only be described as a NIGHTMARE. “ Hey, Chris... Got a secret.” The voice was only just above a whisper, slurred as if drunk, eye struggling to stay open as his hand raised to clutch at the pale one he knew so well.
“I love you.. But shh-- Don’t tell Chris.”













