Chapter Text
The little plastic bag won’t stop rattling in his lap. The sound makes the space behind his eyes ache. He pulls a little amber bottle out. With every little movement of the car the pills slide over each other. The movements of the little blue shapes in the container captivate him. It reminds him of the pond he used to live near. That pond kind of reminded him of himself: Unkempt, muddy, never still, useless.
A hand brushes his thigh. Jimmy jolts upright. He’s been staring at his new temporary repair for longer than he’d noticed. His head snaps to the left to glare at his assailant. Who the fuck caresses someone’s thigh to pull them back to earth?
“Sorry, just letting you know we’re here.”
Jimmy sneers at him and scrambles out of the passenger seat. He glances up at the stout, old building. House, sweet house— apartment actually, but same difference.
“Mind carrying your bags, mate?” He responds with a raise of his middle finger. Unfortunately, he doesn’t see, so Jimmy just grumbles something that sounds like “m’kay”.
The blonde drags the small bag he packed for him out of the trunk. He feels the tote in his hands. He doesn’t remember accepting it from the other man.
“Want me to walk you up?”
“Sure,” he grumbles. He doesn’t know why he accepts, but it’d be weak to back out now.
The door takes a little elbow grease, but Jimmy manages to pry it open. He kicks it aside, enters, and doesn’t look back to check if he followed.
The elevator is broken, not like he trusts the piece of junk to carry him to his floor. His fist slams against the rusty doors.
“Piece of shit!”
A hand on his back. “Let’s just take the stairs.”
Jimmy has to jiggle the handle to get to his apartment. He stops at the threshold.
The musty carpet crunches as the blonde shoves past him. “Wha–” he shakes his head. He’ll make him order them takeout. Free food. The fridge is empty anyway.
He sets the little plastic bag on the counter.
“Jim.”
“Yeah?”
“Take your fucking pills.”
He pops open the amber bottle. Pours two pills into his hand. Throws his head back and pushes the pills into his cheek with his tongue.
The other man frowns. “Swallow.” A hand over his mouth and nose. He only swallows because he has to.
“What the fuck?!”
“They’ll help, Jim. You have to take them.”
“Fuck you.”
…
Jimmy pushes the pill down the writhing mass’ throat. The red bloody muscle pile cries and gags.
He leans in real close and whispers where his ear should be “Take your fucking pills.”