“Don’t you ever do that again! You scared the shit out of me.” -mothmando (imagine it in mothmando speak)
So much yelling and beeping. Noises Moth didn’t understand. He had to sit back and watch as Field and Triage wrapped a heavy blanket around Rusty, something about hyper.. hyper-something?
“We need to get him back to the office. Quickly, he doesn’t have much time!” Triage doesn’t take time to pull out the gurney. He picks up Rusty. “You!” Moth looks back at Field. “Are you coming with him?” Moth nods after processing her words. “Hurry then.”
And there it was again. Field sticking a needle in Rusty’s hand, some monitor still beating. She’s muttering quickly to herself. And Moth can only sit through the ride and watch and hope his friend ends up okay.
~~~
It was the day after. Rusty turned out fine, but not for the long run. But they’ll deal with that later. Moth had slept next to Rusty overnight, the continuous beep from the heart monitor gave him comfort.
In the morning Field woke him up and offered some breakfast. Around ten was when Rusty finally woke up. Triage helped take out the IV and helped Rusty to the bathroom.
Moth waited by the bed for when Rusty would walk back out. The bathroom door opened. Rusty paused upon seeing Moth. He sighs.
“Alright. Shoot me.” Rusty let Moth yell at him and then ask why. Why he would hurt himself so badly like that. Rusty’s heard it before, it almost doesn’t phase him at this point.
Field and Triage make some toast and eggs for Rusty, trying to ignore Moth’s words. It was none of their business, but it was hard not to feel bad for the both of them. Field sets a tall glass of water on the nightstand. She pats Rusty’s shoulder and then points to the glass. He nods.
Rusty took a few seconds to think and then to sip his water. He sighs. “I’m..” He sighs again. Field sets down the toast and eggs before heading upstairs with Triage. “I am sorry! I don’t have an excuse, I guess. I just-“
Rusty stared at the food for a while. Moth took a few steps towards Rusty. “I didn’t expect you to find me was all. Didn’t want you to find me..” There wasn’t much left to say. Moth isn’t a psychiatrist, Rusty shouldn’t unload all his dirty laundry into Moths basket. So he shakes his head.
“I’ll be back working and making junk like I always does. Just go back home, I’ll be back.” His tone was harsher than he anticipated, but he didn’t want Moth to see him like that.
Moth wanted to deny and say something against it, but Rusty looked up at him. “Please! Leave me alone for now. When I get back you can do whatever, but I want to think right now.”
He maintained eye contact until the Moth gave up. He turns around and hesitantly leaves. Field watches the sad Moth leave without a goodbye. She’ll check on Rusty soon, but knows to give him time.
Suicide is sensitive. Rusty just needs to eat and drink water.
