"A Sanctuary Safe and Strong"(Marianas Trench)

Chapter 23

"Hey," a voice said quietly, cutting through the music and trespassing across his thoughts.  

Josh looked up, unable to tell which one of his bandmates had broken his concentration based on the single word. "Oh, hey," he said, smiling easily when he saw Matt leaning on his shoulder against the door frame with his arms folded and one foot crossed over the other. The bruise across his jaw where Josh had accidentally hit him the night before seemed to stand out that much more under the studio lights, even against his suntanned skin.  

Now would be the perfect time to apologize for his attitude earlier, while they were still alone. "Listen, dude, I'm sorry about before. It's just been...well, it's been a hell of a week." The singer gently folded the cover down over the piano keys and stuck a knee up onto the bench. 

"I know it has. It's okay, man. It happens. We're beyond getting pissed off about that shit, right?" Matt returned his smile, raising his eyebrows while he waited for a response. 

"Yeah. And thanks. But, listen I really am sorry for the whole hitting you thing...again. And...ya know...thanks for everything, too. I really couldn't have fuckin' gotten through this shit without you around. I owe you one." Josh ducked his head, the smile on his face faltering a bit. He knew just how much he owed the younger man. He'd have to buy him a fucking house or something just to break even. 

"A ski lodge might be acceptable," the younger man joked, seeming to read Josh's thoughts. After all those years, it happened far more often than either of them cared to try to keep track of. 

"Fuck that, dude!" Josh raised his head again, laughing. It felt good, the banter.  

"Hey, you could use it any time you wanted, with my permission and a three hundred dollar a day fee." The brunet grinned, pushing himself away from the wall and walking further into the room. He leaned across the top of the piano, resting on his elbows and forearms, folding his hands together in front of him. 

The blond stepped away from the piano bench and reached out to shove Matt, knocking the guitar player slightly off balance. "You'll be lucky if I buy you a cheap lunch, Webb."  

"The ghost of Joshua Ramsay, as I live and breathe," came another familiar voice from the doorway. Josh raised his eyes from Matt's shoulder to the sound, and the grin on his face was back when he saw his drummer standing with his hands on his hips and the slightly taller bass player behind him. 

"Fuck you too, Ian," Josh laughed, responding to the phone message Matt had passed along in the hospital. He stood watching as the two older men fought each other to get through the door.  

Ian made it to Josh first in several quick steps, patting the singer lightly on the cheek, making him wince as he felt the slight sting of the drummer's hand. "You've got a great ass, man, but I'm not interested." 

"Enough of the love fest. Outta the way," the bass player demanded, pushing Ian out of the way and pulling Josh in for a tight hug. 

The singer wrapped his left arm around Mike, clapping him in the back twice and then pulling away quickly, hissing when the mohawked man accidentally pressed too hard against his injured shoulder and cracked ribs. Josh reached up to grab at the bullet wound, squeezing his eyes shut. The pain medication he had taken a couple of hours ago helped tremendously, but apparently not quite enough to keep it from feeling like someone was stabbing a hot knife through his body when he was jostled too much. "Ow, fuck, ow," he groaned, leaning over a bit. 

"Oh, man, Josh, I'm so sorry," Mike apologized, his eyes widening as he put his hand against the blond's back. "Jesus, I'm sorry. Are you okay? What can I do?" 

"It's fine," Josh panted, huffing quietly and righting himself again, still holding his hand tightly against his shoulder to try to ease the throbbing. "It's fine. Fuck! Don't worry about it." He slowly opened his eyes, widening them when he saw the concerned look Mike's face. "You look like I just got shot," he joked to ease the tension. 

Mike lifted the corner of his mouth in a small smile and moved his hand from Josh's shoulder to run it across his face. "Shit..." 

"Dude, it's fine. Just...you know, fuckin' be kinda careful, okay? I'm not gonna fall apart, but I'm still sore as shit." Josh released the hold he had on his shoulder as the pounding slowed, and rested his hand on the piano still at his side. 

"So, what the hell happened? Somewhere around, like, eleven o'clock the other night, we got the call from Matt that you were in the hospital," Ian said, gesturing to himself and Mike. "We got there as fast as we could and Matt told us that the doctors found your cell and called your folks, who got in touch with him, but no one knew anything more than that. You were in surgery and we hung around for a couple hours but everyone seemed to think you'd be out for a while even once you were stitched up. Matt called every few hours for a couple days, telling us that you were just...sleeping. We visited again, but left after about an hour. He called later that afternoon to say you were awake, but too tired for more visitors, or we would've come back. Then it just seemed...I dunno...somehow better to wait until you were up for talking before we tried visiting again. Then...well...here we are. So, what happened?"  

"Yeah, man," Mike spoke up. "Talk to us." 

Josh sighed, not really wanting to retell the story again. He was exhausted by the constant repeating, but he knew there was no way he could avoid it. He couldn't keep this from his friends and two of the people he was closest to in the world. "Let's go sit. It's kind of a long story."  

The blond lead them out into the lobby toward the couches and sat facing the three men. The look on Matt's face gave it away that he didn't really care to hear the story for the second time, but didn't want to walk away, either. And to be honest, Josh didn't exactly want Matt to hear it again. It was hard enough telling the story with the younger man in the room the first time. 

Trying to ignore the fact that the brunet was in the room, he retold the events from start to finish, pausing for each gasp or "holy shit" that one of the men uttered, nodding when one of them admitted that it sounded like a scary, unbelievable situation to have to go through, agreeing that it never should have happened, and shrugging when he was asked if he knew who the man was that shot him.  

He explained everything he remembered...except how heavily he needed to count on Matt for everything. He left out the part about asking the brunet to climb into his hospital bed, and he sure as hell didn't tell them that he collapsed on the floor of the guitar player's apartment in a sobbing fit because he couldn't handle being alone. He glossed over that part especially, simply stating that his own place was still a bloody mess and he didn't want to spend the night there until it was cleaned. "...so I crashed at Matt's last night." The bruise along the brunet's jaw was explained away as just the younger man being exceptionally, uncharacteristically clumsy. No big deal. 

"Good lord," Ian breathed, staring down at his hands. "You could've...-," 

"I know, I know. I've fuckin' been reminded. But I didn't." 

"Are you really sure you wanna be here today?" Mike asked, narrowing his eyes at Josh. 

"Yeah. I just wanna get on with shit, ya know? I can't play anything right now," Josh paused to gesture at his shoulder, "but Matt can play any piano or guitar parts we come up with and you guys have instruments here, so that's not a problem, right? I'll just be the brains behind the music instead...as usual," he sighed loudly and cocked his head to the side, exaggerating his importance and expecting a laugh or two, but his joke fell flat. 

"You're positive?" Mike questioned again, sliding forward in his seat a little and resting his elbows on his knees. "Don't push yourself too hard after this shit, man, you know? It's...you need to rest after something like that." 

"Would you quit being such a fuckin' parent, dude? I'm fine. I'm here. I'm walking, I'm talking, I'm alive. I just...I need to be here." That was as close as Josh was willing to get to the direct truth. He couldn't be at home. He needed to be here. 

The bass player raised his hands in surrender and the other two nodded in unenthusiastic agreement. "Okay, okay, you win. Let's do it."