Saturday, 24 September 2011

-August (Todd)- Normalcy

Or, as close to it as we can get.

After the chaos that was Wednesday and Spencer's infection; Doc running herself into the ground after her delivery and a certain tilde-abusing man now apparently in full control of the boss' account, I guess anything less than total chaos feels like a break.

We took a plane home from Vegas not long after getting off the phone with Spencer. Or, what I so scarcely call Spencer; anybody who isn't half-blind would realize that the boss in that state is far from his regular self. While I won't share the contents of the conversation, I'll tell you it was enough to leave behind the FREE CANDY van and get back to Vermont as fast as possible.

What we came home to... wasn't ideal.

It's strange. We've dealt with messes before. This is hardly the first time Spencer Fitzgerald has gotten like this, hardly the first time somebody has pushed themselves far, far beyond the brink of functionality and still continued to work, and certainly not the first time I've come home to finding all the dishes shattered and the gun missing from the back of the cupboard.

(You idiot, you know there are ones that you can use without breaking my best china!)

But maybe it's just seeing the panic written out so clearly for the world to see that makes everything worse in retrospect. I guess everything gets filtered out over time? Maybe we've always been this dysfunction and chaotic, just never able to really see it after the fact.

Hindsight is 20/20, afterall.

But I digress.

Hey, a quick joke. What do you call a guy who is oblivious to the fact that one of his only friends is dying right in front of him?

An asshole.

You know, it was sort of cute walking in on August passed out at his laptop, especially considering he's the one telling me I need to sleep. Oh, this is Todd by the way. Alive and... alive. But better than most a majority of us. Which, in all honesty, is not saying much. Just glad I'm on my own two feet and can actually do something other than sit in my room and be useless. I do kind of find it funny that it started with Spencer. But funny in a 'you're a horrible person for thinking this is funny' kind of way.

I've gained a habit of randomly walking about the house when my mind troubles me (which is a lot lately), almost as if my clouded thoughts are causing my legs to move. When I happened upon Spence, lying on the ground, black substance dribbling out of his mouth and nose like a mucus, labored breathing, my brain cleared all processes. No more thoughts. I froze up. Time that could have been spent trying to save him was wasted with me gawking at him like an idiot.

It was the first time I've really gotten a good look at him. I've been passing my eyes over him for a long time, I just didn't want him to notice me. I don't even know why, really. Fear? I don't know. Anger? Probably.

It was strange, cause I have seen people in similar states, most of whom are dead not long afterwards. But I can't really recall off the top of my head Spencer ever showed weakness in front of us, or me, at least. Now, there was a voice in my head going "Take this chance. He's weak and wounded. Kill him! Kill him!" and another one going "Run while you can! Get out! Get out!" while in my own voice, I'm thinking "I wonder if two men have passed him before me.
But I don't think I'm good enough of a person to be a Samaritan here. Right after that I wondered if Spencer was going to be the symbolic Christ figure who would die to save us, but I ultimately decided against it. His arms weren't in a crucifixion pose.

I picked him up, and rushed him into Doc's room. She knew how to take it from there. I left her alone, I knew I could only make it worse. I sat outside of that room for about... half an hour? I don't exactly know. Time dragged on, all of the world that I could experience was filled with noises of screaming, occasionally a pause, maybe so the sound of a bone cracking could be heard, to be replaced with screaming. All I could see was a section of wall I dare not take my eyes off of.

But August came rushing in, frantic, asking me what happened. I stared at him, unable to give any answers to any of his questions. I just opened the door. And I closed it once he went in. It got a little quieter. I could hear them talking. I did my best to try and not understand anything they could say, except it was pretty hard when I heard Doc start yelling "No, no no no no no, August!" And then August walking out and asking me to help carrying Doc to her room.

I'm doing my best to forget that part now.

I carried Doc by the torso, while holding her head up. It was a really strange sight. We got back into the room, and August and I talked a little bit about my obliviousness to the whole situation. August, bless his heart, took the "Todd is not an idiot side.", I don't think the judges were impressed. He also took the "You should really get some sleep, Todd." argument. Which I think is kind of funny, considering he's curled up into a perfect little ball at the edge of his bed right now. Personally, I think he's the only one of us who deserves sleep right now.

But everyone could use some, I suppose. Doc hasn't even moved from her bed since we put her there. It's the kind of thing I would ask her if it was healthy if she was awake. I'm just going to guess that it's not.


  1. The gears of functionality turn best when well-rested.

  2. You'd be surprised how overrated sleep is.

  3. Shit. All of you need sleep, I guess. And. Todd? Thank you.

  4. Oh, trust me, I wouldn't. Been there, done that, got the bags under my eyes.

  5. I second the "everyone needs sleep" comment.

  6. Well, I suppose it's easier not to sleep when you have someone to keep you awake all night.

    Elaine, don't bother thanking me. Thank Doc next time you see her.