sweet as a flower. (Joshler)

🌼 sixteen

A/n: these last few weeks have been a doozy. Moved twice, received nothing but bad news, found out I have a severe anxiety disorder, and wanted to die. I think I'm back now, but we'll never know for sure I guess.

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~Day eleven~

Josh hasn't stopped crying since he spoke to the doctor.

"What?? What is that supposed to mean?!" He panicked and pulled at his hair, some of it coming out in clumps because of the stress he's been under, and the nurses had to sedate him and put him in another room. They wrapped his already injured hands and put mitten-like cloth over them to avoid further hair pulling or harm in any way.

He woke up every morning to a polite nurse, D. Ryan read her name tag, replacing the gauze pads on his knuckles and ignored her questions like 'how are you feeling' and 'how'd you sleep' because he didn't care about him, he cared about Tyler. He'd skip over her concern and go right to 'how's Tyler??' and 'Is my baby awake??'

Most nights he wouldn't sleep, he'd stay awake for months waiting for Tyler's eyes to open if it wouldn't kill him.

Finally, on the eleventh day, they evaluated his mental stability and concluded it was okay for him to go see Tyler, but necessary he keeps the gauze on so he won't harm himself or others. He stumbled upon realizing he hasn't stood in almost two weeks, but ignored his jelly legs as he practically sprinted to the room he remembered visiting before.

He rushed in with nothing but hope and faith in his eyes, but fell to his knees when his eyes met the bed again.

Tyler was on full-on life support.

He crawled, shaking with sobs, as he slowly made his way to his prince, and he weakly pulled himself up to the edge of the bed with choked cries escaping him. He reached to touch Tyler's pale skin, but frustratedly pulled his hand back when the thick cloth avoided skin to skin contact completely. He ripped and pulled with his teeth and knees, but the nurse tied it tight enough to where he made no progress at all. He collapsed back onto the ground again as he gave up on even trying to stand, and his bright red, puffy, bloodshot eyes twitched shut as tears flowed down his temples into his greasy hair, he hasn't showered properly since Tyler went missing, and he felt disgusting. He hated this. He hated himself. He hated being in his own body. He fucking hated Bert more than anything.

His body trembled and seemed to almost convulse, he wasn't able to keep his eyes open for more than a second at a time because they burned with the lack of sleep. The sides of his messy hair were growing damp, his clumped hands on his chest and his legs flat on the floor.

This was all his fault.

The steady, faint heart beat on the monitor was both relaxing and agonizing, he's unimaginably thankful Tyler's alive but he's also growing sick every time he looks at his condition.

His face was still bruised and beaten, his arms were still purple and one was casted, and one leg was hanging from a sling attached to the ceiling, casted from hip to toes. The rest of the already known horrors were hidden modestly underneath the mint green sheets.

"Mr. Dun? It's time." That polite nurse said quietly from the door sympathetically, an ache in her chest when she realized what must have been going on.

This boy loved the one in the bed. Perhaps the one in the bed doesn't know, maybe he does, or maybe he never will. And that really hurt.

Josh sighed and weakly pulled himself to his feet, dusting his shirt sloppily, and followed the nurse out the door with one last look at Tyler's peaceful looking face.

He didn't really want to be here right now anyway.

~Day twenty five~

Josh's mom had heard about everything, how Tyler was found, what happened to Josh, and where he currently was.

They had called her the night of his arrival, after they put him in a room and sedated him. They told her about his breakdown, what happened to his hands, and that she could pick him up whenever she got the next call. Today was that day, they told her he's well enough to go home, so she threw her jacket on and headed towards the hospital.

"Oh, Joshua," She pulled him into a tight hug and held back tears, smelling the sweat and grime thats been building up along with the bags under his eyes and stubble on his chin.

"Come on, let's get you a nice warm shower and some food, okay?"

He sniffled and hesitated.

"What's wrong honey?"

"Tyler. I don't.. I don't want to leave him behind." He looked at the ground and clenches his fists painfully underneath the cloth.

His mom sighed and thought, but she decided for now it's best to get him on his feet and get some sleep. "Josh, there's always tomorrow, o-okay?" Her voice shook. Josh looked up at her with pain in his eyes, not wanting to listen, but not wanting to stay.

"Tyler.. he's.. he... he'll be okay.." His mom broke down and hid her mouth behind her hands as tears peaked in the corners of her eyes and began to fall, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Oh god.. that poor boy," She cried and Josh's lip trembled before her pulled her back into the hug, crying quietly into her shoulder. After just a few minutes of muffled sobs and sniffles, they pulled apart, both of them looking a disaster now, and they started towards the car.

Tyler was her baby now, too.

Her son.

She loved him like one.

And he's hurt.

So she is, too.

They drove home in silence, an uncomfortable void filling where their voices would normally be, gnawing at them both as things just continued to fall apart at the seams.