Midnight Ride: A Backpack Spin-off

Unhealing Wounds

Midnight Ride 2

Trigger warning: Blood, needles, getting blood work done.

He sighed as he felt an itching his wounds. He decided that the trip to the clinic in the ER was needed. He slipped into his car and attempted to back out of his driveway but couldn't do it one handed. He cursed under his breath, only to put the car back in and pull out his phone. He dialed Hashirama's number and waited as the phone rang. His back felt scalding hot and it hurt so very much. Not even his pain meds were dulling the ache at this point.

He didn't know when exactly this feeling had started, but it couldn't be good no matter what. He resisted the urge to rub his back against the seat while he waited for Hashirama to answer. It went to voicemail, and he decided he was going to go down the line and call people until someone answered. He called Izuna next, despite knowing he was sleeping for work. He should be getting up for work sometime soon though, so he had to wake up anyways.

Izuna didn't answer either. He was not about to call an ambulance for this bullshit. He looked through his list of numbers and his eyes softened as he landed on his father's contact. Fuck it. He hit the dial button and waited the phone rang. "Hello?" thank goodness he answered. "Hey dad..." he sighed, and the man also sighed on the other end. "What is it now, Madara? What could you possibly need?" his father grumbled, and he felt his chest clench in pain at the tone his father was using towards him.

He deserved it though, after everything he put them through. "I need help dad." he said, and he waited for his father to say something... to say anything. "Are you high right now?" His father asked, and the stabbing pain returned to his chest. A frown tugged at his lips, and he felt his eyes stinging. "No... Dad... I saved a girl and got hurt pretty badly... I just need someone to take me to the hospital. I think my wounds are infected." he said softly, trying to control the wavering of his tone so his father didn't know he was upset.

"Listen Madara... I can't help you... please don't call again. I don't trust you." he said, only to hang up immediately after. His eyes burned with unshed tears, and he tried to blink them away, but they streaked down over his cheeks anyways. He couldn't say he didn't deserve that honestly, but that didn't make it hurt any less. He gripped his phone and pressed his uninjured wrist to his eyes to hide his tears from any neighbors that might be watching.

His shoulders shook with the force of his unheard sobs. He couldn't afford to let anyone see him this way. He forced himself to stop crying, but when he looked in the mirror his eyes were already bloodshot. He knew he was to blame for his father not trusting him. He was an addict after all, once an addict always an addict. There was no redemption for him in his father's eyes. He swallowed softly and leaned back in his seat, rubbing his wrist over his eyes once more to dry any remaining tears.

It had been a year since the last time he had gotten high, he wished his parents would be proud of him, but they didn't even want to hear about his progress. He was holding steady and hadn't had the slightest craving to get high. The last time he had gotten high... was after Mei. He had dosed up because he knew he fucked up his friendship with Tobirama, but Tobirama himself had told him they were friends again and that he no longer owed him anything.

He sighed and leaned his head against the headrest. He slipped his arm out of the sling he had been given to keep him from moving that arm while it healed. He took in the bandages that littered his wrist and upper arm. Those were minor grazes, they didn't require stitches and seemed to be healing well. It was the ones on his back and shoulders that seemed to be angry and inflamed. He grimaced as he adjusted in his seat and gripped the steering wheel in both hands.

He put the car in reverse and backed out of his driveway. He managed to get into the street, although he was hurting already. He put the car in and slowly made his way to the hospital. He managed to get parked, albeit crooked. He stepped out of his car and made his way up the small hill to the ER front doors. He walked in and stepped up to the desk. "Do you need to see a doctor?" the woman asked, and he nodded. "Yes ma'am..." he said as he glanced around the empty waiting room.