Adjusting

JC lay barely breathing, staring up at the ceiling waiting for the house to quiet. He could feel the night closing in on him as he lay in the dark. He couldn't get his brain to shut off. Thoughts running like some much blood, he thought the pillow beneath his head should be stained red with it.

He'd held it together through the rest of their evening ritual; even managing to sing Hailie three songs before she'd finally given into sleep. As he'd made his way to his room, he'd felt Marshall's eyes burning into his back. Though when he'd turned to look, Marshall was gone.

When he was certain Marshall had to have fallen asleep, JC slid noiselessly out of bed. Moving slowly, he glided down the stairs in a familiar routine. Except this time he had an agenda. He was going to get smashed. Despite the pair's efforts he couldn't quite the voices in his head.

JC shuddered as he opened another cabinet in his search. Memories old and new. Ghosts of the past kept threatening to drag him under. If he didn't do something to quite them now he'd go stark raving mad. His walls were cracking, and the things that slipped through.... This was EmfuckingEm's house, he thought wildly. There had to be some goddamned liquor around here somewhere. Muttering curses beneath his breath he gave up on the living room. He couldn't believe even the damn bar had been dry.

The kitchen was his last hope, as his search grew more frantic. Unaware of his watcher as his actions grew more panicked. The earlier merriment having long since drowned beneath the growing darkness inside. JC could feel it, the pain, waiting, lurking ready to shred what little peace he'd gained. He needed a fucking drink.

Marshall watched from the shadows of the doorway as the kid searched desperately. Flinging open cabinets, muttering wildly as he tore through the kitchen. Though he'd been waiting for this, he wasn't sure how to handle it. This addict like behavior, but with no real addiction behind it. Only a lust for oblivion. Running from the demons within.

With a wounded cry, JC slammed the last cabinet shut. He hadn't found a single goddamned bottle. He slumped over the sink, staring sightlessly out the window. Trying to get himself under control, the white knuckled grip betraying the fraying hold on his sanity. He was going under. He was going to drown in his own head.

Marshall finally moved as he watched the first tear slid down the pale cheek.

JC started at the sound, head snapping around.

For a long moment the two stared at each other.

Marshall thought Joshua had the weirdest eyes, never just blue. Shifting from silver stained to midnight with his moods. He could see why the teenies were always going on about him. He winced as the teeth worrying at the other man's lip tore through flesh.

JC was unaware of the blood that welled up. Instead he growled out a low plea. "Don't you have any goddamn liquor in this place?"

This was the part Marshall didn't know how to deal with. He knew the kid didn't really need it. Only wanted to escape the horror in his own head. He'd be a hypocrite if he tried to pretend he'd never done it. Except he knew the kid was strong enough to do this without it. "You don't need that," said Marshall moving to lean on the island behind him, just to his left.

JC looked over his shoulder at him. Eyes bloodshot from holding back the tears. "Who are you to tell me what I need?" he hissed. He felt like he was dying again. His wounds ripped back open. Everything too real. "Please, Marshall."

He'd beg if he had to.

Marshall shook his head. Josh whimpered, eyes closing. He moved up beside him until they were standing side by side. "Joshua, look at me."

JC shook his head. He'd all ready shown this man way too much.

"Look at me," growled Em.

JC opened his eyes, turning a broken gaze to him.

"You can do this. You don't need it. You got us."

JC stared into the icy eyes; in them he could see some unnamable emotion.

Em turned his head away to gaze out the window, nudging him with his shoulder as he moved until there was no space between them. JC could feel Em pressed against the length of him. Feel the silent strength, the offer of it. JC sagged against him. He couldn't not take what was offered freely. Pride be damned.

Em steadied himself as the kid slumped against him. He'd never been good at this. This comfort thing. He wasn't much for the softer emotions. But he figured the silent offer of support was what the kid needed. Somebody else to lean on. He darted a look over at the head on his shoulder, tears slid from beneath the lowered lids, silently. It was nearly as bad as watching Hailie cry. He'd never ached for anybody except his baby like this. Not even Kim's crying had touched him. Whether he liked it or not the kid was quickly becoming family. No longer a passing curiosity. Admit it Em, he'd become more than that a long time ago, thought Marshall. The minute he looked at you with those killer eyes filled with a mad desperation. Silently pleading for help.

JC willed himself not to scream, only letting his pain bleed out in the silent tears. Trusting desperately in the strength of the man beside him. Too raw, every nerve exposed. He kept wanting to check to see if his skin was still on. The woman hadn't held her tongue, and nothing was too insignificant. Everything was fair game. Shifting through the shadows of his past. Trying to find the truth amongst the lies. Seeing it. Denying it. Facing it. Tormented daily by his lover. Drowning in the madness of their relationship. He'd lost himself. Six years of insanity. How did he get past it? Sometimes he thought it was too late. He wasn't sure he could trust himself any longer.

The man beside him shifted, taking more of his weight.

But Marshall did. JC opened his eyes as the first hesitant rays of sunlight breached the darkness. Marshall trusted him. Believed he could do this. Could put himself back together. Believed enough to step in, and be in his corner. Emfuckingem had his back.

Em was unaware of the passing of time. Attention too focused on the brunette head resting on his shoulder. Waiting to see if Josh could pull it together. Ignoring the urge to brush away the tears. He'd never seen anyone who still looked attractive crying. But Josh did, even when the blood shot eyes flickered open. Lashes, wet and spiky ringed a vulnerable gaze that slowly filled with determination. Almost like a child, Josh dashed at his eyes wiping away the reaming tears as he straightened up and away. For a moment, Em wanted him back where he was.

JC met the pale blue gaze. "I can do this," he said, hesitantly.

Em watched as the sliver-blue gaze glinted with the strength he'd seen once before. "I know you can."

He took a deep breath; it was almost as if he could feel the strength he'd absorbed from Marshall's presence sinking into him. He would not let this break him.

By unspoken agreement they watched the rest of the sunrise in silence, before retreating to their rooms.


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Good grief, that was a long as* chapter. phew