Comatose- Sam&Mike
Sam stood at the door looking like she could be pushed over by a falling feather. “Hey, there.”
She barely sleeps at night anymore- barely can think straight because of that and overbearing ideas of… something. She didn’t even know what she was thinking about except that it wasn’t good. It used to be fine, at first, and she even thought she was getting better and was beyond elated that something was going on a date with Josh.
Since Sam got sick her barriers she didn’t even know were there crumbled. No more horrible, incessant thoughts could be blocked now. Every cough was a nightmare she admitted to the world. Nyquill was the only way to sleep but it also was how it all happened. The simple drug started losing its effects because how often she needed that godawful syrupy taste. Even though her dreams were terrifying, they were better than her reality.
She started to take more and more this same night when she couldn’t sleep. Sam’s head started to hurt because she couldn’t rest. She looked down at the ¾ empty bottle. What was left of the thick liquid coated the sides of the container. She held it so firmly that her knuckles were ghostly white, just like her face.
“I didn’t want to scare anyone,” She sounded so congested, tired, and afraid, “But you know just how I’m feeling right now. I need someone to talk to, not fix me.”
“That I can do. Come in.” he replied, stepping aside so that she could enter. Mike was more than a little surprised to find her at his doorstep, and not just because he was fairly sure he’d never told her where he lived. To say that Sam did not well would be the understatement of the century. There were dark circles hanging under her eyes, and she looked as if she may collapse at any moment, the colorless pallor of her face giving her a ghostly look.
He’d never seen her so weak. Sam had been the upbeat, positive force in the group. Even faced with the horror that was Blackwood, she had met everything with determination. They were a team there, fighting alongside one another like soldiers. Ultimately, it was their drive and courage together that ensured everyone’s survival. Mike never would have guessed that his sister-at-arms would be doing as awful as he was.
Maybe it was because had always been the healthier of the two of them, emotionally and physically. But now, as he stared at the sleepless corpse of his friend, he understood; Sam was just a worse off as he was.
“Misery loves company after all, and were the most miserable sons of bitches out there.”
Sam stumbled through the doorway, “Misery is a fucking bitch sometimes.” She started to open the bottle as her knees started buckling. Finding a seat close to the entrance, she collapsed like a rag doll.
She didn’t really know why she wanted to get to Mike so badly. Something about the fact that he had been fucked over so much already seemed almost comforting, she guessed. He seemed so strong yet even he fell down the rabbit hole so quickly. Sam didn’t expect the same to happen to her.
“Why do I feel worse than at those mountains?” Sam took a large swig of cough syrup and grimaced like she sucked on a lemon. “All I want to do is sleep, but no of course not.” Her eyelids were anvils that refused to stay shut so her eyes were glued to her bottle.
Closing the door as she passed through, Mike followed closely behind her, ready to catch her if her legs gave out. He wanted to ask her if she was okay, but it was made pretty clear by the way she fell into his couch that she was far from it. The amount of cough syrup she was downing hallmarked just how desperate she was. But he was in no state to judge. The faint sound of the pills rattling around in his pocket reminded him of that.
He sunk into a chair positioned across from her. “My shrink says it’s because we never got any closure with Beth and Hannah. But he’s a fucking idiot. I just go to him for the drugs anyway.”
Sleep wasn’t much of an issue for Mike anymore. Mostly because he drank himself to sleep most nights. Still, he could relate to Sam’s restlessness. It was almost impossible to shut down his borderline obsessive thoughts without other substances. It was either think too much or not enough for him.
“I get that. Hey, at least you have all of your body parts intact.” Mike held up his mutilated hand in display. “It could always be worse.”
Remembering that people got legitimately hurt got Sam feeling sick, more so than already.Now she realized how little she really knew Mike. Yes, they talked and yes, she even tried to help Mike herself, but she broke. If she can’t hep herself, how could she have tried to help someone else?
“Gd, I feel fucking ridiculous!” She couldn’t keep herself from fidgeting with anything around her; tapping her foot, lightly hitting her cough syrup bottle on her temple, scratching her forearm. Sam felt foolish coming to Mike, not even understanding why she wanted to be there. Maybe she wanted to steal his pills, run away, down the bottle and just leave. Hell, maybe she wanted to leave with someone- like Hannah and Beth. After reading that journal, it was obvious that Hannah was long gone the moment the two fell into that cave.
Sam went bottoms up and finished what was a new bottle a couple hours ago. “I thought I was fine, you know? But hell, my best friend and her sister are dead-or some sort of monster- their brother miraculously alive, and another friend with a chopped-up hand. I should have nothing to worry about.” Her eyes lazily looked around Mike’s house, noting coats, furniture, then finally landing on him. She thought about wanting so fall asleep and never come back but how can she admit that?
