Better Every Day - A Jonathan Davis Fanfiction

Chapter 12 - He's not okay (part 2)

"Jon its okay, you're safe. Everything's okay," the boys all tried to comfort him, but I did nothing.

"No, nothings okay," he started sobbing again. "I was there again. I couldn't move. I couldn't fight it. I thought I was going to die" He could barely get his words out. He looked up at me again and tried to start a sentence, but he couldn't.

I had no idea what he was talking about. Where was he? What happened to him? Why was nothing okay?

I finally broke out of my frozen posture and knelt down next to him, but I didn't know what to say. As soon as he felt my touch, he shot up and away, stumbling and barely able to put one foot in front of the other. He was extremely drunk, but I wasn't sure why he was so hostile at my touch. Was it because I didn't comfort him? I looked at the boys, and Head just gave me a look that said don't worry, this happens.

Jon was panicking again, throwing things and falling onto his knees. This time, I went straight over but I kept my distance in case he didn't want me there.

"Jon?" I asked. He had calmed down, but he couldn't look at me

With his head down, he said "I'm so sorry Mia. I'm just- I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't want you to see this. I just-" He let out a breath and put his head in his hands.

It wasn't about me, it was that he didn't want me to see his pain. It makes sense, sadly.

"I love you, Jonathan Davis. Nothing you do, or have been through is going to change that. I want to see every part of you because there is nothing that can put me off or push me away. Do you understand that?" I said

Jon looked up at me with watery eyes and a quivering lip, "I guess"

"I promise I'm going to stay with you. No matter what. I just want you to feel comfortable enough to share with me"

"I'm comfortable with you. I am, really. It's me I'm not comfortable with. I just can't stand it anymore, I can't," he slurred, and he broke down again, whacking his head with his fists. But as he started to cry, he looked like he was about to vomit.

"Oh, shit," I said, trying to get him up. I put his arm around me and tried to help him up. He had already started vomiting on himself, though. I looked around for help, but everyone was gone.

"Guys!" I yelled with no answer. I had to get Jonathan to the bathroom. He stumbled over a piece of the drum set he had fallen on earlier but I kept him on his feet.

"Come on Jon, we're almost there. You can make it," I encouraged as he vomited all over himself again. Saliva was drooling from his mouth and he was on the verge of passing out again. I was trying to keep him up with both arms, but he was much bigger than me. The sounds of his burping and wrenching were horrible.

I got him to the bathroom with great struggle, and he fell next to the toilet. I opened the lid and pulled his hair back, forcing him to put his head over the toilet. He wrenched and wrenched, emptying his stomach contents while making horrible noises. The vomit was coming out of his mouth and his nose. His eyes would roll back into his head every time there was a big one. I was holding him up so he wouldn't fall, but he started to fall in the opposite direction to me and in an attempt to keep him up, I knocked my head pretty hard on the corner of the benchtop. Eventually, he was just dry heaving with nothing more coming out. He was still very unstable, unable to stay up by himself. When he was done, we both fell against the wall next to the toilet. With a now throbbing head, I tried to clean the vomit off of Jon's clothes as he began losing consciousness again. His head kept falling to the side and I would put it back up, and then his eyes would open again.