Family Isn't Just Blood

Its Me I Abuse p2

(TW: Reference to self harm and unhealthy weight loss, alcohol/drug relapse) 

Jason's POV:

Roy's asleep for the better part of the drive. Whether that's from exhaustion or from whatever he slipped from his pocket I don't know. His head is lulled against his shoulder, forehead resting against the window. He's always been a pretty heavy sleeper. I used to use that to my advantage when we were kids so I could draw shit in permanent marker on his arms, or face.

We're not kids anymore though. So once we were out on a country road with no other cars in sight I decided to take my eyes off the road and do a little investigation. I grab the bottom of his sweater and pull up his shirt just enough to see to his very visible ribs. That's enough to confirm what I already suspected.

I like to call it the ledge stage. A place wedged between thoughtless indulgence and self control. He wants to get clean, he's going to get clean. That's what he's probably telling himself right now. But he needs to take the edge off, he's just gotta scratch the itch first. That's what he's been saying to himself since he slipped. He's got a force of will stronger than anyone I know. When he commits, he commits. But judging by the fading white lines on his ribs he's still looking for something he can use to help take the edge off once he starts using that will force.

After some solid time with my thoughts, I finally pull into the gavel road that leads to a cabin. I was never one for cabin life but I figured it would be a nice spot to stay if I even needed to lay low and had an itch to 'connect with nature'. I haven't been up here since I bought it three years back. It still looks like a log cabin straight out of a Christmas rom com.

I give Roy a shake before I get out of the car, heading for the door. I figure he'll come when he's ready. He's bitchy when he wakes up anyway.

The scent of lavender and incense tingles my nose when I step through the door. I kick my boots off and wander through the wide open living room and into the hall with the bedrooms. One of the doors is cracked open just enough that I can see the flowing red hair hanging off the end of the bed. I push the door open and lean against the frame, admiring the sun kissed orange skin and strong figure of one of the most powerful women I know. She's draped over the bed on her back, hair floating around her head, a book held in front of her face.

"Hey Kori." I say softly, watching as she nearly drops the book in excitement, springing off the bed and nearly knocking me off balance with her hug.

"Jason! Oh how glad I am to see you! I love your place. It has many rabbits and creatures and books! Just this morning I saw a.."

"K-Kor- uh could you not squeeze so hard? I uh.. I kinda did a half assed job stitching myself back together last night." She lets go immediately and purses her lips together. If I didn't know her so well I'd say she looked mad. Since I do know her so well, I can tell that look is more than mad, its rage.

"I'm alright Kor'. I just need a little space-tech medicine to speed up the healing." She takes my hand and guides me to the bathroom. Though, I suppose it's more like a makeshift med bay.

She sits me down on the toilet seat and starts pulling my shirt off.

"Jeez, at least take a lady out to dinner first." I tease.

"Jason." She says seriously, pretending not to hear my joke. "What happened to you?"

"I've had worse, Kor'. This is nothing I won't recover from." I peel off the gauze patch I duct taped to the wound under my collar bone before unzipping my pants to get at the wound on my thigh.

"I need you to tell me what happened, Jason."

"It's noth-"

"Jason." She grabs my jaw in her hand gently but in a take-no-shit kinda way. "I need to know what happened so I know how to help." Her face is stern but I can see the tidal wave of emotions behind her eyes.

"Fine fine, no need to go all disappointed dominatrix on me." I huff, shaking my head out of her grip. "Someone jumped me in my not-so-safe house. Probably some punk kid who wanted my audograph."

"Hm. They have a mildly humorous way of asking for it." She muses, dabbing at the wound with antiseptic. An orange glow burns in her hand and she presses her fingers against my flesh to burn the wound shut.

"Gah!" I bite my tongue and reach for her hand to knock it away but ball my fist instead. The burning sensation continues even after she's replaced her hand with gauze.

"Roy." I grunt out, taking a second to catch my breath. "He's getting bad. I think he's trying to fight a relapse but he's just turning to more destructive vices."

"He is still sober?" Light reflects in little shines below her irises.

"Yeah, I would know if he'd fallen off the wagon." Her shoulders lower and she sighs in relief.

"Earlier, when you told me he needed help I assumed..." I shake my head, still relieved that he was still sober.

"He fell asleep in the car on our way over..." I swallow. Something swells in my throat and choke out the next sentence. "He's.. he's hurting himself, Kor." She hugs me against her and I don't realize I'm crying until I feel that her shoulder is wet against my cheek.

She holds me like that for a while. Her fingers comb through my hair absently. She smells like lavender and rain. Her sweater is soft against my face.

I feel like a little boy. Before I got tough, before I was angry.

"We're not going to lose him." She says. Like she knows it, like she can be certain. I don't feel certain. I don't feel anything.

She holds me tighter. Maybe... maybe I feel a little hope. 

(A/N: Did you really think Jason was gonna take Roy to rehab? I was considering it, but in order to make smart decisions you have to have more than one brain cell between two people. Anyone want a part 3?)