"A Sanctuary Safe and Strong"(Marianas Trench)

Part 3: "And So It Goes" - Chapter 61

Matt took a step to the side and gestured straight ahead once the pair had crossed in front of the stairs and stopped at the office door. Shifting on his feet a bit, Josh swallowed hard and reached out to the doorknob and twisted it, nearly tripping over his feet as he prepared for yet another internal battle, fighting himself just to keep his hand on the fucking door. He inched it open, but before taking a step further, the blond stood with his shoes on the threshold, surveying the mess. He'd done the same thing earlier that morning when he'd had a little time to himself, but spent all of two minutes in there before he'd gotten too overwhelmed and had to walk straight back out, eventually leaving the first floor in favour of heading up the stairs and into the bathroom, feeling the need to shower, as though the filthiness of everything that had happened was engraving itself deep into his skin all over again. 

Josh squinted against the sun and stretched his body a bit, the guitarist's flat stomach rising and falling against the back of his head as he took a minute to fully latch onto his bearings. He knew he was in his living room and, for a change, he remembered every single thing about what had happened the night before. He felt like he'd spent so much time lately only half-remembering things, or feeling completely blind and oblivious to what was happening to him or around him, that actually remembering his thoughts and actions was a somewhat foreign concept.  

Easing himself into a sitting position, every muscle in his body told him that he was getting too old to be sleeping on a couch, much less scrunched up the way he'd been. Dragging the blanket from around his body, Josh silently yawned as he draped it over Matt instead. The poor guy was so out of it that he hadn't even felt the singer move as he pushed himself up off the sofa.  

Just as the blond stood, that fucking bottle cap dropped from the couch and hit the floor. He'd nearly forgotten about it, but there it was again. He never should have saved the goddamn thing in the first place. It was more trouble than it was worth. Josh stooped to pick it up, jamming it into his pocket and vowing to throw it away as he quietly made his way out of the room to let the younger man spend a little more time sleeping off everything the blond had put him through the night before. 

Padding his way up the stairs, the singer headed straight to his bedroom. He had to do laundry today. No doubt about it, unless he wanted to void the idea of wearing underwear and socks, which didn't sound as appealing now at his age as it used to, back when he just didn't care about much. Josh spent about fifteen minutes wandering through the room, gathering up all the dirty clothing scattered across the carpet and tossed over various pieces of furniture. He packed it all tightly into a laundry bag to drag back down to the first floor. Maybe while he was waiting on that to finish, he'd try to clean up the rest of the disaster he'd been semi-living in so he could potentially officially move back into the room...someday. 

After his meltdown with Matt several hours earlier, he was actually feeling better. He'd admitted to about fifty percent of what had been holding him back, and that was a good start. He would have to fill Matt in on the rest later, because the younger man deserved that. Finally talking about everything felt like enough for him to try to get his life back on track. Of course, Josh knew that it wasn't a quick fix, nor was it something he could count on to turn everything around completely, but a weight had definitely been lifted, and that was the best he could ask for this time. He was just sorry he hadn't done it weeks ago. Someday he'd learn. He'd learn let himself dissolve into a series of incoherent words, phrases that he couldn't make sense of, sleepless nights and panic attacks, and he'd learn to let someone else help him sort through the inconsistencies, shelving the unnecessary worries and addressing what was most important.  

Glancing at the clock on his way out of the room as he dragged the laundry bag behind him, he read the neon numbers - nine forty-seven a.m.. He wasn't sure what time he'd fallen asleep after completely emotionally wearing himself out, but he'd slept. After the hell he'd put himself through, Josh couldn't remember if he'd dreamed at all. It was like he'd been staring at a blank wall the entire time he'd been under the blanket, nothing but clear rest to recharge his entire being. He was still exhausted, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He felt certain of that this time, and not the same sort of 'certain' he'd been before. The singer was definitely marginally better today than he had been. Something in him had shifted after last night. The clarity and steadiness he'd been missing were back and he could feel it.