It's Too Late For Courtesies (Erik)

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Dangit....Jackson messed up. His Grams was not going to be happy about this...well, she didn't have to hear about it, so as long as one of the dorm monitors wasn't patrolling the halls this late at night to catch him, they wouldn't have anything to report back to her, right?

Jackson felt a pang of guilt in his stomach for having to keep secrets like that....or maybe it that was the nausea again? Either way, Jackson didn't want to give her another reason to worry, nor did he want to inconvenience anybody for having to take care of him. Him, who neglected to take his medicine when he was supposed to and ended up getting about 10 kinds of sick because of it. He'd taken some just a moment ago to make up for it, but it'd still be a couple of hours before he started feeling like he wasn't melting from the inside out again.

Yes, that was an intense description, but that's pretty much what DKA was. He hated feeling like this. If you hate it so much, then why don't you take better care of yourself? he could hear some ignorant moron say. He hated those assholes too....

No, no....don't be like that, they're only human and ignorance doesn't mean they can't understand when given the correct information. If they've never known somebody with his condition, then of course they wouldn't know much about it or....sigh...he hated making up excuses for the dumb too. Best to think about something else.

In any case, this was why Jackson was walking slowly down the hall of the boy's dorm, toting his pillow under one arm, and using the wall as balance support just in case his legs decided to stop working on the way to the bathroom. He planned to camp out there for a while until he was sure he wasn't going to throw up. He hadn't yet, but Jackson could feel it there, waiting for the most opportune moment to come out. Jackson pushed open the door to the boy's restroom and approached one of the sinks. His face was pale and he was definitely sweating. How could one feel so cold, and yet be so hot at the same time? It was weird. Jackson wet a wad of paper towels then slid down against the wall until he settled on the floor. He dabbed at his face, taking in some small relief from the cool water dripping on his face.

[Erik Stewart]

Erik’s sleep schedule was often erratic. He either slept very early or very late, and at any times in between, leaving him awake in the wee hours of the morning to witness some of Hammel’s most eccentric moments. He had seen worse than whatever was happening here, but pretending like he didn’t see Jackson sounded like a lot of work. He’d a sweaty face and wide, anxious eyes, a sight Erik thought familiar, especially in cramped restrooms.

“Hey man,” he said, lifting his head up from the sink. He’d wiped his face, still rubbing underneath his eyes. “You get a bad joint ‘r somethin’?”

Erik was about five seconds away from asking him where he was or where he thought he was. Of course, he noticed that the smell was absent, and his eyes were clear; could mean Jackson wasn’t on something at all, could also mean he was on something harder. In that case, Erik would just offer to lead him back to his dorm and let him deal with that himself. He’d probably be okay.

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Jackson lifted his gaze to the other boy. When did he get here? he thought. Or had he always been here? Was Jackson really so out of it that he couldn’t tell when people were coming and going right in front of him?

“Huh?” he uttered with a look of confusion. His voice sounded somewhat weak. “A joint…?” Jackson thought this over briefly before letting his head fall back and hit the wall he was leaning against. “Ha ha….” What a thing to be laughing at, though he didn’t really blame the older boy. “Guess I do kinda look like an addict, laying here like this.” He released a few more breathy chuckles. He closed his eyes and waved his fingers mockingly into the air in front of him. “Can’t make it without my drugs, no? Woo~”

Jackson was feeling too ill to put up his usual ‘niceness’. He just didn’t give a shit right now.