Nowhere Haven

No More Tears Left to Cry

A relieved sigh escaped Oliver's throat once his apartment complex came to sight. His legs weren't going to carry him much longer after all that has happened. He had lost track of time without his phone and could only assume that it must have turned late evening by the darkness around him.

He slowed down in his pace once he walked up the stairs to his front door, remembering the scene from a few hours ago. The stairway was quiet as always, but inside his home might be awaiting him a huge storm. Oliver gulped and turned the key in the lock. It would turn two times before the familiar clicking of the lock would let him in; Oliver hesitated. He could have sworn he left the door open when he had ran out earlier.

Once Oliver entered his apartment, he was greeted with silence. The hallway was ravaged with shifted furniture and scattered items. He called out for Fukase but received no response.

Oliver carefully shut the door behind him and fought his way towards the living room. His heart was racing in the mess; this didn't feel like his home. For a moment, Oliver's stomach twisted and he once again wished for nothing but his ordinary life back. He had been complaining about the tiring rhythm in both his and Fukase's life, but it was the only thing that promised him normality—unlike the staggering silence surrounding him.

Oliver peeked in the living room, but nothing was out of the ordinary. He noticed dinner to still be neatly displayed on the dining table, as if it was waiting for him and Fukase to have a meal together just like a few days ago. His eyes shifted off the table and to Fukase's room. The door was closed, making it even rougher on the Oliver's weak nerves.

As soon as he stepped closer, the stench coming from inside forced a gag out of Oliver. He breathed through his mouth a few times and calmed down before pushing the door open. He was greeted by silence once again—Fukase was nowhere in the apartment. 

The slightest struck of relief ran through Oliver's body knowing that his partner was safe in the hospital. He hadn't processed it in the middle of the moment, but on his way home, Oliver has started to worry greatly what kind of effect an overdose had.

He picked up his phone from the bed and checked the time; it was much later than he expected. His weight shifted and his aching limbs dropped on the bed. Oliver crawled up the worn-out mattress and huddled over where Fukase was lying earlier. The sheets were still damp cold from sweat. Oliver would have usually got up and cleaned up the mess, but he couldn't move a muscle at this moment. He just wanted to fall asleep and forget about the remains of the incident. He wanted to feel Fukase's warmth on his back and hear calm breathing, and if he couldn't have that, then he at least wanted to know that Fukase merely was in another room—just any indicator that he didn't need to be scared.

But there was nothing and Oliver knew very well that there was a reason to be scared. Fukase was in the hospital all because of his wrongdoing and he didn't even know how he was doing. Fukase might as well be dead by now. Oliver clenched the pillow in his fist and groaned. His attempt to keep a positive outlook on the future drowned in corrosive images. Fukase was right in front of his eyes, begging him to stay when he was feeling so miserable. He would scream and plead his name over and over but  Oliver couldn't reach out his arm. Even in such a situation, Fukase had worried more than anything about not being left alone, and Oliver couldn't give him that one wish.

He wanted to beat himself up for it so badly. What had seemed like the best possible decision a few hours ago left nothing but bitter regret. He thought he was sane and mature enough to know what to do with both his and Fukase's life once he had the control, but only now he noticed how wrong he was about it. Instead, the blame was now all on him.

Oliver stared at the wall and focused to squeeze out a few tears, but there was nothing. More than anything else he hoped to cry out all the pain in his body but he was left alone with suffocating emptiness instead. He rolled on his back and picked his phone back up. When not even curses of regrets and guilt wanted to cascade down on him, he at least wanted to find out what was happening to Fukase.