SUE: Wake Up Calls

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse didn’t sleep well on the best of nights. Even on the best of nights, he would only get a few hours back to back before waking up and shifting around in the dark. Dreams usually broke his sleep patterns, and often he didn’t want to go back to sleep. Even on nights he had good dreams, he often found himself waking and wanting to go back to sleep, only to find himself unable to do it.

Tonight was rougher than usual. He’d gone to bed exhausted, but hadn’t been able to do much than doze. He was hot and restless, kicking off his blankets and opening his window. His stomach kept rolling in an uncomfortable way, not quite alerting him as to what it needed, but not settling down enough to let him to sleep properly.

After accomplishing a solid hour of dozing, he was rudely awoken by a strong urge to move. Not caring that he was wearing nothing but his long running shorts, he dove from his bed in an uncoordinated run for the shared bathroom. After stubbing his toe on the frame and swearing loudly, he pitched forward and barely made it to the toilet before his stomach heaved and he promptly vomited. It had been a long time since he had been sick like this, and the experience hadn’t improved with age or time. At least his roommates were all sound sleepers, right?

[Clement Evans]

They might be if one of their roommates wasn't crashing around, yelling, and barfing in the middle of the night. The shouted cussword woke Clement from his light sleep and he immediately threw up his hands to protect his head. Half asleep, it sounded like Dave shouting, and Clement knew if he was swearing that loud he needed to defend himself.

But it wasn't Dave.

Once Clement's heartrate slowed down, he sat up in the surprisingly neat rectangle of his floor bed. He knew that sound. The throwing up sound. Jesus, sounded like someone was having it rough. Normally, he wasn't concerned about his roommates (save one), so he figured someone else would call up a dorm monitor. Maybe Jesse, since he said he didn't sleep much.

Laying back, when no footsteps or voices came into their dorm pod... well shit. Clement was no good Samaritan. Yawning, he got to his feet. Unlike some, he slept fully clothed, including shoes. Another habit from the trailer. Pulling his suspenders back up, he padded out to the common room. Ugh. Puke smell. Wrinkling his nose, he peered into the bathroom.

Pale blue eyes went wide. The kid hanging over the john was too big and too white to be his other roommates.

Jesse.

Clement sighed.

Pulling down a washcloth, he didn't know whose, he slopped it under the cold tap and rung it out. Edging closer, he said, low, "Jesse? What the fuck? Are you okay?"

Kneeling, he nudged the older boy with the cold cloth.

[Jesse Adams]

Misery did not touch how Jesse was currently feeling. His stomach kept trying to heave, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it until there was nothing left for it to lose. Even so, every so often it made him dry heave, just to add to the fun. His stomach hurt from all the heaving, he was more or less panting from the effort, his toe still hurt, and he was both too hot and too cold at the same time.

He stayed slumped over the toilet bowl, not giving a rat’s ass about the fact that he was hogging the single bathroom in the shared dorm. It wasn’t often he felt this vulnerable, and he didn’t want to move. For the first time in a long time, he actually found himself wanting for his mother to be closer by. She always knew what to do in these situations.

Instead, he was alone in the dark.

He didn’t hear the footsteps crossing the common room, so Clement’s voice startled him slightly. Blinking, he stared bleary-eyed at his friend. Quietly, he shook his head, not quite trusting the burn in his throat to allow him to speak right away. After a moment, he pulled himself backwards so that his back was against the wall, more or less slamming the toilet seat down in his wake. “Just puking my guts out,” he finally managed. “Nothin’ special.” He felt just a little bad for having woken Clement up, so he gently pulled the cloth from his hand and pressed it to his face. “Ugh. Just go back to bed, kid.” He didn’t need to bear witness to this.

[Clement Evans]

Before Jesse spoke, the smell hit Clement, and he winced. Glad it was dark, he found the toilet from habit and flushed, hoping it didn't overflow. The air carried the bitter scent that he recognized as stomach acid (being sat by a bunch of drunks sometimes came in handy, who knew).

He sighed when the blond admitted the obvious, and against his better judgement, he whispered, "I'm gonna turn on the light. I need to see if you got any on the floor."

Because the next worse thing to throwing up was kneeling or stepping in it and not caring till it started to stink up the room. It was also an excuse to see what Jesse looked like, in case there was something else wrong he wasn't saying. Flicking on the harsh florescents, he regretted the intrusion but...

Oh, ew. Jesse was clammy and sort of... red on white. Splotchy. Clement got him a cup of water (again, whose cup he didn't know, didn't care, but since it didn't smell like toothpaste it was... reasonably clean). "Spit into the toilet."

Just to be sure, he flushed it again.

"You look like shit. I'm gonna go get that Hayes dude."

That was easier to say than 'getting the doctor'.

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse stayed still as Clement worked his way closer to flush the toilet. Why hadn't he thought of that? Oh, right. He'd been busy fighting his stomach as it attempted to flip itself inside out. Despite the feelings of wanting his mother, Clement wasn't exactly a substitute. The kid needed to go back to bed, especially if it was contagious. He wouldn't be happy if he was responsible for the kid getting sick. Seriously. No one deserved to feel this way, especially the kid he was actually friends with. If people actually believed he could be friends with other human beings.

"Don't," he mumbled, squeezing his eyes closed when Clement did exactly what he had said he was going to do. Jesus, who made lights so damn bright? It was like looking at the sun, even with his eyes closed, and it was making his head throb.

Now that he had been suitably blinded, he scowled in the light as he opened his eyes the maximum amount he could handle and stared at the cup being held out. The idea of drinking it didn't sit well with him, but rinsing his mouth out... he could handle that. The water was spat into the toilet before he could even think about swallowing it, and he set the cup on the floor beside him, his shoulders pressed back against the cool wall.

He would have been content for Clement to shut the light off, go back to bed, and leave him to wallow in his own misery. Instead, he was hit with the magical combination of words that would likely lead to things that were not good. He slowly shook his head. "Don't," he repeated. "'m fine. Just gonna sit here a second, then bed." Dipping his head so that his long bangs hung into his eyes in a makeshift blind, he pointed back into the common room. "Go back to sleep." Because that was going to work.

[Clement Evans]

One of the blond's habits that Clement really wished he'd give up was how he'd speak in single words, leaving Clement to infer or interpret all the parts he didn't say when he could just finish his goddamn sentences like a real person. And the word he seemed to spit out most was 'don't'. What exactly he didn't want Clement to do varied, but most of the time Clement had no idea what it was.

After the older boy spat into the john, he just leaned back against the tiled wall. Despite his words, he didn't look like he was about to get up in the next 24 hours. He looked more like he'd be just fine as a permanent installation of the bathroom.

And jesus, could he be bossy.

"Only if you come with me," Clement said stubbornly, knowing there was just as much chance of that happening as what had been originally ordered. Hands on hips, he crouched to get a better look.

Ew. Jess was slick with sweat and had puke breath. "Fine" Clement's ass. Exhaling through his nose, he said, voice still soft, "Look. I won't get Hayes if you let me drag you to the nurse. C'mon. What if one of the other dudes has to pee? You gonna just watch?"

[Jesse Adams]

One word answers had once been a defense mechanism, because there was only so much you could get in trouble for if you limited your answers to single words. Now... it was just habit. In Jesse's defense, it was difficult to string more than a few words together when he was feeling, for lack of a better word, like shit. The rest of the time, he really didn't have an excuse.

The cool wall felt good against his bare shoulders, despite the fact he felt like he was slowly being glued to it. Had he been more alert, he would have realized that it was his skin being all sweaty and tacky and gross, but for now he was just enjoying the cool. Who cared if one of the other guys had to use the bathroom? He was comfortable, and had the added bonus of the porcelain god nearby in case he needed to upchuck again. What more could he want?

Well, maybe for Clement to stop talking to him and flicking lights on. He didn't want to make the kid sick, and he didn't want to go blind from the lights. Apparently that was a lost cause, though.

"'m not going with you," he argued back, though there was absolutely no fight in his voice. "I'll get you sick too and you don't want this." No one could possibly want it, not even the kids that liked skipping class.

As much as he wanted to pull away, Jesse was... kind of stuck to the wall. Any effort to move would have to be the result of a slow peeling of himself, and sudden moves would just plain hurt. The best he could do was turn his face away from the kid, though his shoulders stiffened slightly at the next suggestion. "No. Worst is over. ... I think. No goddamn nurse." He didn't care how nice Kieron had been when he'd been forced to stay in the infirmary for strep throat, or how motherly and kind Dr. Nik was outside of Hammel's walls. Inside the infirmary, they might as well have been known serial killers that preyed on blond boys. "I told you, I'll go back to m' room in a minute." Or, you know, an hour. Whichever felt better.

[Clement Evans]

The one word answers could be excused for sickness if Jesse didn't do it all the damn time. Being sick just ratcheted up Clement's annoyance at the habit, because real decisions had to be made here and the main victim in this smelly tragedy was not offering any help.

He blew an impatient breath out of his nose. Clement didn't like doctors either, but he did acknowledge the fact that they were the people to see if one was ill. It just so happened he'd never seen one for that. There was an easy solution here. Jesse went down to the nurse, the nurse did whatever they do, took some pills or something and was sent back to bed. It wasn't like they were suddenly going to decide he had to have some organ out that very second and have to operate with paperclips and a staple gun. Clement didn't know much about how colds were transmitted, but he doubted very much that bodily pushing/shoving a reluctant, cranky blond down a few hallways was going to get him sick.

"You're lying," he replied bluntly. "You're lying so bad you don't even know how bad you're lying." He sighed. Well, if he was going to do something, it was going to be without cooperation. From Jesse, anyway. It wasn't like the nurse didn't have legs to walk over and... nurse. "Fine. Just sit there. Ty doesn't deserve to see how stupid you're being."

Flicking the light off, he yawned as he left the bathroom and walked quietly out of their dorm. A few minutes later, he was in the dorm monitor's office. The tall dude who never slept was on duty. Without preamble, he said, "Jesse Adams is throwing up. He won't see the nurse. He's laying in the bathroom."

He didn't add 'and being a huge baby', but his expression more than did that for him. Without waiting to see if... Hayes? Was that his name? was following, he turned and headed back up to the room.

[Zebadiah Hayes]

Like Jesse, Zeb also didn't sleep most night. Sometimes it was because he was intentionally avoiding it, like tonight. He'd been having nightmares for the past couple of nights and was hoping that he could break the cycle by pulling an all nighter. It gave him a good excuse for catching up on some reading, paperwork, and cleaning if nothing else.

The night was dragging by slowly and Zeb was on his second pot of coffee when a student walked into his apartment. He had the door slightly ajar, a habit of his when he was looking for a distraction. He'd found it lucky somehow to do so. Or unlucky as the case may be.

He started to ask what the trouble was, since Clement didn't make it a habit of stopping by to chat in the middle of the night. But the boy simply stated that Jesse was sick before turning to leave.

So Zeb finished what remained in his coffee mug before following Clement back to where Jesse lay on the floor.

"Mr. Adams?" Zeb asked, kneeling down beside the obviously sick young man lying on the floor. "Why don't you want to see the nurse?" Though Zeb was no health official, he knew something had been going around the school and it seemed Jesse had caught it.

[Jesse Adams]

If one was to ask Jesse just what, exactly, he was scared of, he wouldn’t have an answer. He couldn’t simply point to a reason and let it rest. It was a little like asking someone with arachnophobia why they didn’t like spiders. Some people liked them, some were indifferent, and some... more or less suffered a panic attack if presented with one. As Clement huffed out his breath, Jesse pointedly ignored him.

“You’re lying,” he shot back, mostly just to dig at his friend. He wasn’t in the mood to argue, and the longer Clement was in his face, the more he wanted to push the door shut and wallow in his own misery by himself. And finally, he got what he wanted. Clement shut the light off, and he left.

Alone again in the dark, Jesse leaned his head on the wall and closed his eyes. Being exhausted wasn’t a foreign feeling to him, but this level of tired was something he hadn’t felt for a long time. He didn’t get to sit still long, though, as a lone wave of nausea had him once again dry heaving.

By the time Zeb and Clement arrived back, he was back to leaning against the wall, more slumped than before. The sudden closeness of the dorm monitor made him open his eyes, but he was too tired to skitter away. Instead he just shot Clement a look over Zeb’s shoulder and shook his head. “’Cause it’s not that bad. I don’t need the goddamned nurse.” And if he had his way, everyone would stop fussing over him and go the hell away.

[Clement Evans]

"Fuck you," Clement replied. "You puked your guts out. I had to flush twice to get it all. Just take something and get it over with. God."

Looking over his own shoulder, the other roommates hadn't woken up. Good. "I'm gonna check on Ty," he said, and left Zeb to deal with the big baby.

Bunnies, he'd read, were active at sunset, sunrise, and oftentimes during the night. Clement wrinkled his nose at the smell in Jesse's room. It was hot and sort of sour and altogether unpleasant. He cracked a window and kept the door open, and knelt by Ty's cage. The little bunny squirreled around, and sniffed the fingers Clement stuck through the cage bars.

"Your dad is being a dick," he whispered to it in Korean. After a few pets on the head, he left, took one look at the bathroom, and went back to his own room.

((Clement out.))

[Zebadiah Hayes]

Zeb understood fear. And while he wasn't an empath or a telepath (at least he didn't consider himself technically a telepath) he felt like he'd gotten a glimpse into other people's fears enough to understand more than his own. He also felt their was always a reason, sometimes it was just buried so deep that a person couldn't pull it out. Or it was connected to something wired that made it harder to explain. Like the person he'd met in college who had a phobia of pipe cleaners. Zeb hadn't understood why until he'd stumbled into a nightmare the person was having about being covered in tarantulas with hairy pipe cleaner-like legs.

"Hey. Guys. Watch the language," Zeb warned. Though really he knew Jesse wasn't exactly feeling well enough to care about minding his manners. And Clement was clearly frustrated with his roommate. So Zeb wasn't going to hold it against them for the moment.

"You're slumped up against the wall beside a toilet. I think that's bad enough," Zeb said. He sighed watching Clement stalk off.

"If you don't let me take you to get checked out, then I'll have to sit in here with you all night so I don't worry," Zeb said, giving the boy what he hoped would come off as a warm, comforting smile. "So how about you let me take you. Come on, you'll be helping me out."

Zeb hoped that the tacit would work. He wasn't entirely away of Jesse's fear of doctors and such, having missed that part of the conversation so he was guessing that Jesse was just trying to be macho about how sick he was feeling.

[Jesse Adams]

If Zeb had the misfortune to slip into Jesse’s dreams, he would understand just what made the blond so scared of sleep. Lots of things haunted his dreams, some more than others. The dream journal his trainer made him keep was a testament to that. He honestly wouldn’t want to subject someone to them. Not even his worst enemy. Not that Zeb was even close to an enemy, but still. If the dorm monitor ever showed up in his dreams, he’d do everything he could to force him out before something bad happened. For all the control he could have over dreams for other people, he had a hell of a time with his own.

At the slight admonishment, Jesse cut his gaze from the wall to Zeb, but the energy to scowl at him wasn’t there. He settled for just staring at him in what he hoped was a menacing way. It only got worse as the dorm monitor pointed out the obvious. Yes, he was lying in the bathroom. Yes, it looked bad. But it wasn’t that bad. Clement could just shut his damn mouth.

“Don’t,” he mumbled, trying again to shift away from Zeb. He wasn’t that much older than Jesse, so he wasn’t as threatening as older men usually were. He was probably pretty close to his older brother in age. That... helped, but not much. It didn’t make him want to touch him or anything. A part of him wanted to reach out and gently wipe the last ten minutes or so of Zeb’s memory, but he honestly didn’t have the energy to do it. Which meant he was stuck for the foreseeable future. “... ‘m not going anywhere. Sit in here for all I care. It’s a free stupid country.” It wasn’t the ideal solution, but it was better than once again being bodily hauled into the infirmary.

[Zebadiah Hayes]

Zeb was not one to compare pain or fear, whether it be of the physical or the mental sort. That said, the dorm monitor dealt with enough haunting dreams of his own creation that he could most likely handle anything he found walking around in Jesse's head. Most likely he'd feel pity for the boy more than anything else. Not that he could speak for certain from experience.

If he hadn't been so concerned for Jesse's well-being at the moment, Zeb might have smiled or even laughed at the sick boy's pitiful attempt at looking menacing. It was like seeing a puppy to to look threatening.

Zeb sighed and made himself slightly more comfortable by sitting and leaning against the wall across from Jesse.

"Might as well get myself comfy then," he said, making it clear that he wasn't going anywhere. Though he'd love to, Zeb wasn't going to attempt to physically wrestle Jesse to the nurse's office either. As much as he might like to.

"How long have you been like this?" Zeb asked. If they were going to just be hanging out in the bathroom, he might as well attempt a patient history.

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse honestly didn’t want to subject anyone to the demons that haunted his dreams. Between Gabriel and his father, they were two subjects that tended to rule his subconscious, twisting themselves in ways he often couldn’t handle. There was a reason he didn’t like to sleep most nights, and why he kept a steady supply of energy drinks on hand at any one point.

The blond kept a wary eye on the dorm monitor, still unsure if he should be skittering away from him, or staying put. Zeb fell into that very awkward category in terms of age. No, he shouldn’t have been judging people like that, but he couldn’t help it. It was reflex.

It didn’t matter, anyway. Not if Zeb settling in was any indication. He was stuck for the foreseeable future. Pointedly turning his face away from the dorm monitor, Jesse quietly relaxed at the cool feeling of the new spot on the wall his forehead was resting against. “Dunno. Puking for less than an hour. Woke up hot.” He wasn’t going to give much up. Sorry, Zeb.