Agent Washington (completelysane) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-02-01 05:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !trigger warning, agent carolina, agent washington |
Who: Wash and Carolina
When: Back dated to September 24 through September 25
Where: Hunting cabin in Yosemite
What: Carolina has brought Wash to a cabin; York has sent with them a care package
Rating/Warnings: Medium for first stages of detox
Status: Part One Complete!
Day 1
The ride up to Yosemite was long and it was tense. Wash sat in the passenger seat of Carolina’s car. He barely said two words the entire way.
He and Carolina had not been in the same room alone since their argument the week before. They’d made their apologies, but the air between them was still tense and uncomfortable. Carolina had given him a kind of ultimatum. She was going up to this cabin on this date at this time. The fact that Wash was expected to show up at her car at said date and time went unsaid, as did the consequences if he didn’t show up.
So early that morning, hungover and weary, he arrived in the parking lot of their apartment, bag in hand and ready to go. He’d drank the night before. One last hurrah. His hangover allowed him sleep the first three or so hours of the ride, once he woke up, however, he was met with an awkward strained silence.
Carolina had said a total of five words so far this morning and things were not looking to get any better as the cabin came into view. Honestly, a part of her was relieved when Wash had fallen asleep and the other part of her hated that fact. Even though they had apologized, the cruel words said on both sides earlier that week still lingered in the air. Neither of them were very good with the ‘forgive and forget’ concept.
The Marine had not wanted to consider what would have happened to their relationship if he hadn’t shown up that morning. She knew it would not have been pleasant. For either of them. Thankfully, he had appeared that morning, bag in hand.
Throwing the car into park, Carolina didn’t bother with a ‘we’re here’. That would be stating the obvious and likely inviting a wave of snark that they had somehow managed to avoid thus far. The next few days would be trying enough as it was. It would take a few trips to bring in all the supplies, but then there would be nothing to do but wait until the first signs started up later in the evening. God, she hoped at least the couch was comfortable.
Caught up in her thoughts, it was not until she was halfway up the stairs, large duffle bag in hand, that she realized that the small porch was not empty. A young German Shepherd was curled up under what she assumed was the bedroom window. As Carolina stepped fully onto the porch the dog rose up a bit and let out a low growl. Just fucking great. The last thing she wanted to deal with right now was a wild dog. Unfortunately, the only way off of the porch was the stairs she had just climbed and she was not in the mood for this shit. Green eyes frowned at the dog, unblinking and refusing to give an inch.
After a very long minute the growling subsided and the dog looked away. Good. Carolina crossed over to the door and unlocked the cabin, completely ignoring the dog. “The cabin apparently has an alarm system built in,” she called back to Wash. “Try not to startle it.”
Wash would be honest. He had actually expected a shack and was somewhat surprised when an actual cabin came into view. Had never been to a cabin before, and this probably would have been fun and exciting, if not for the whole reason they were up there.
Carolina said nothing when she got out of the car and started lugging things up towards the cabin and Wash followed suit. There was a lot that was hanging out at the back of his mouth, things he wanted to say, but either lacked the nerve or just didn’t know how to form the words. So he kept his mouth shut. This was going to be a long week.
He nearly ran into Carolina’s back when she stopped on the steps. He peered around her at the when he heard the growl and saw the dog laying on the porch under the window. It was watching them, lip curled in a snarl, but didn’t seem to want to actually attack either of them. After Carolina had gone into the cabin, Wash stopped on the porch and looked at the dog carefully. It didn’t look like a stray. Its fur looked clean and its belly wasn’t distended. He didn’t see a collar either, but it was possible someone had lost their dog while camping. The dog looked back at him, but made no further sounds. Wash shrugged and lugged his bag and a few of the supplies into the cabin.
The next forty-five minutes or so was spent silently unpacking. The tension in the cabin had been worse than in the car, and this time Wash didn’t have the luxury of a hangover to sleep through most of it. Once supplies had been put away and personal items had been deposited into one of the two bedrooms, Wash stepped outside again and had a seat on the small front porch. He and the dog exchanged a look, but the dog remained where it was curled up under the window and after a moment seemed to not care whether or not Wash was even there, leaving the former marine to pull out a cigarette and light it.
Only half of the things Carolina had brought with her went into the second bedroom. The rest she had already begun to arrange on one end of the couch. With any luck, she would get to finish the week sleeping there. The first few days would likely be spent either on the couch to make sure Wash didn’t try to run or staying awake to care for what she hoped would only be a mild fever and shakes. She knew better, having spent the last few days reading up on what to expect during a cold-turkey detox, but it did not stop her from hoping anyway, for Wash’s sake.
Moving into the kitchen, Carolina began to put away the supplies York had bought. It was getting to be lunch time, so she figured she might as well start something for both of them. Something hearty, considering it might be the last meal Wash would be able to keep down once the shakes started. She heard the sound of the door open, but did not bother to look up. Instead, she leaned back against the counter and sighed once the door had closed again. This was going to be a long week, but not talking would likely make it even longer.
Might as well bite the bullet early. Shaking her head, she went to open the last box of supplies, marked “OPEN AT THE CABIN” in bold letters. Lifting the lid, she froze as she realized exactly what York had somehow managed to sneak into their supplies. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” Carolina growled, doing a quick check of the box to make sure nothing actually necessary had accidentally fallen amongst the variety of board games crammed inside. Hi-Ho Cheerio? Clue Jr.? Candyland? Sorry! and Disney Guess Who? What the fuck did he think this trip was? A sleepover for ten year olds?
Slamming the lid back on the box, Carolina picked it up and headed for the door, fully intending on shoving the damn things back in her car so that they would still be intact when she shoved them back in York’s face. Outside she noted Wash’s cigarette - Let him have that one, Church. - but it was the dog that made her pause. It was still there, curled up beneath the window and looking even more settled than it had been when they arrived. Carolina waited for the dog to look away again before turning to Wash. “Making friends?”
Wash glanced up at her. She wasn’t going to say anything about his smoking? He was a little surprised with that since this whole trip was centered around “getting him healthy”, but whatever, if she wasn’t going to say anything, then Wash was more than fine with that. He looked back over at the dog and shrugged. “Maybe,” he said before taking a drag and returning his eyes back out towards the woods. “It didn’t growl at me when I came out here. Maybe it’s waiting for someone. Doesn’t look like a stray.”
He looked back up at Carolina, raising a brow at the box in her hands. Had they somehow brought something they didn’t need? That didn’t seem likely. “What’s with the box?” He asked. “Don’t tell me after coming all this way you’ve changed your mind.” Not that Wash would have been bothered one bit if she had.
“Huh. I didn’t see any dog stuff inside.” No extra food, dog bowls, collars, leashes, or rawhide bones; the small things that would indicate that the previous tenant had cared for the canine. Carolina frowned and studied the dog closely for the first time. Actually, the thing looked lonely. She made a note to ask Kanan if he knew anything about the cabin’s previous renters and if they had lost their dog.
Wash’s comment about the box brought her back to her original reason for coming outside. Carolina frowned at the box before raising an eyebrow at the younger man. “You’re not getting off that easy.” The only way they were leaving the cabin was after all the alcohol was out of Wash’s system. Well, that or being medevac’d in a helicopter, but it was probably best not to mention that particular possibility to the man in question just yet. “York’s idea of a joke. He slipped a box full of kids board games into the supplies.”
Wash stared at her. Seriously, a box of children’s board games? How very…York. Wash blinked once and then started laughing. He hadn’t laughed in nearly a week. He laughed a bit harder than the box of York’s games warranted, but it actually felt kind of good, letting a lot of that anger and tenseness roll off him. “Really? Wow. Maybe that’s his attempt to get us to talk?”
Carolina looked at Wash in genuine surprise. “That’s...probably true.” And it was already working, not that she was going to tell York that. How long had it been since he had heard Wash laugh? Hell, she hadn’t even seen him smile since before their argument. Not that either of them were big on smiling. After a moment, her face softened and she offered the box to Wash. “What do you think? Wanna give it a try?”
“York just might be a genius,” Wash shook his head, bemused. Wash took the box from Carolina and opened it. He spent a moment looking through the contents. “Candyland. Clue Jr. They made a Disney version of Guess Who?” He blinked up at his sister. Clearly this was a discovery for him and he wondered if maybe this was a dig at the fact that both Carolina and Wash were sleeping with Disney characters.
He laughed again. “I guess we may as well give it a try,” he said with a shrug. “I mean York went to all the trouble of getting these and packing them.” He finished his cigarette and snuffed the butt out before getting to his feet. “It’s not like we have a whole lot to do while here.”
“As long as you promise not to tell him that. It’d go straight to his head” Carolina gave him a lopsided smile. She had also wondered about the Disney theme of the game and whether he knew the Dreams of their respective friends. It would be very like York if so. Which would then mean he found out from Wash, because the man had certainly not asked her. About anything. Including the damn board games. She opened her mouth to ask just that, but then closed it. Better save that for a day when she was less likely to snap.
“You set it up, I’ll finish making lunch.” Shaking her head, Carolina held open the door for Wash, but stopped as she spotted something moving at the edge of her vision. She arched an eyebrow when the dog that had been sitting so quietly at the other end of the porch walked right through the doorway instead. The dog bypassed the couch and trotted across the room to the small kitchen table. Where it turned around twice in the limited space beneath the table before once more curling up to sleep. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” She groaned.
“Let it stay,” Wash said. He felt kind of bad for the dog. It was possible it was waiting for it’s family here at the cabin having been accidentally left behind after wandering off. Or someone had brought the poor thing out here to purposefully leave it behind. Either way it had been abandoned and Wash had an idea of what that was like. “It’s not aggressive. It’s probably lonely.”
Wash took the box inside and went about setting up a game of Clue Jr. while Carolina made lunch for them. A piece of cold cuts was left out for the dog under the table as both a peace offering and giving the creature something to eat since neither of them knew when the last time it was the dog had eaten anything.
Over a rousing game of Clue Jr. - which Carolina won - the tension between the two lessened a bit more and Wash became more accepting of what he was there for. Unlike Carolina, he hadn’t read up on what coming off alcohol cold turkey would be like. He had started to look it up, but got as far as hand shaking and vomiting and decided he didn’t want to know any more. It had been several hours since his last drink, and he could already feel the onset of withdrawal symptoms. His hands had started to shake and by dinner he had no appetite and nausea had started to set in.
He went to bed early, noting that Carolina had claimed the couch in the main room as her own and knowing full well she was there as a kind of sentry. Did she think he was going to sneak off during the night? Well, he couldn’t blame her for that. He retired to bed with the feeling this was going to be the last good night’s rest he was going to have for a while.
Day 2
Wash woke up before dawn the following morning feeling terrible and with Epsilon whispering, as it always did. He was restless and after an hour or so of tossing and turning and oscillating between being too hot and kicking off the bedroll and getting cold and pulling them back.
Finally, he got up and paced his room. His chest felt tight, like he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t keep still, rubbing at his face and the back of his neck. His hands were shaking even more than the evening before. The tremors had crept up from his hands and throughout his body.
When it felt as though the room was closing in on him, Wash made his way into the common room, thinking he should take a walk. He stopped finding Carolina on the couch.
Carolina had not slept well over the last week, so it only made sense that she found herself waking up every hour or so on their first night in the cabin. Eventually she had given up and put on the kettle to make some tea, which seemed to help a bit. She had just begun to doze off again when she heard movement coming from Wash’s bedroom.
By the time Wash had made it out of the room, coffee had replaced the tea in her mug and there was a second cup on the counter. Carolina looked up from her book. He looked like shit. “Morning.”
“Morning,” he mumbled back automatically. Was it morning? Wash glanced towards the window. The inky blackness outside was starting to lighten with the signs of false dawn. Birds could be heard chirping a sickeningly cheerful way that made Wash’s head pound.
He looked to the door and for a moment he entertained the thought of just leaving. Carolina’s car was within sprinting distance. If he got a head start, he could probably have made it without Carolina running him down. All he needed was the keys.
But that would have required him actually getting the keys, which Carolina hadn’t exactly left laying around. The last thing Wash wanted to do was wrestle the keys away from her and undo everything York’s gift of board games had done for them. Wash sighed and ran his hands over his face before abandoning the thought and making for the kitchen instead.
The smell of coffee lead him to the cup waiting for him on the counter. He reached for it, but the tremors in his hands caused the warm contents to slosh on the counter and on him. “Fuck,” he swore loud enough and biting enough to get the attention of the dog still denning under the table. It lifted its head off its paws to look at him. Wash glared back. “What?” He snapped at it surprisingly eliciting a whine from the canine.
Carolina shifted on the couch when it seemed Wash was no longer headed for the door. It was about the time for him to start trying to find a way back to a bottle. She intended to stop him from doing so, by any means necessary. There were quite a few things left in the duffle bag at the end of the couch that probably looked a lot closer to a kidnapper’s toolbox than camping supplies. For the next few days she was not about to let Wash out of her sight, regardless of what he wanted.
The whine from the dog was new, though. Carolina hadn’t heard a peep from the dog since it had growled at them yesterday. “...There’s milk in the fridge.” She wanted to tell Wash to leave the dog alone. It wasn’t the dog’s fault that he was trembling. Instead, she took a longer drink of her coffee and bit her tongue. They had fought enough and he did not want to accidentally open a wound that had not even had time to scab over.
No, it wasn’t the dog’s fault his hands were shaking, or that his chest was tight with anxiety, or that he felt like shit. It just wanted to lay under their table and eat cold cuts. It kept an eye on Wash in the kitchen, even scooching out a little from under the table to sniff at his feet, almost as if it could sense that he wasn’t feeling well. More evidence that it likely wasn’t a stray or feral dog. “Sorry,” Wash said, as if the dog could understand him.
He turned his attention back to the spilt coffee. He looked down at his hands. He flexed them once before reaching for the mug again, slowly, willing his hands to remain still long enough for him to get some coffee in him.
Carolina watched the dog a bit warily as it sniffed at Wash’s foot. Not that it had shown any signs of being anything but friendly, but they hadn’t even known the damn thing for 24 hours yet. Who knew what would set it off? Not counting the dog’s unceremonious entry into the cabin, it was the closest it had come to either one of them. Maybe it was a guy thing. Come to think of it, she didn’t even know if the dog was a boy or a girl. Way to pay attention to your surroundings, Church.
“Want to go for a walk?” Carolina suggested. She was supposed to keep him distracted and exercise seemed as good a distraction as any. Their normal run was probably out since there were no close trails, and even then it would be dangerous to take someone running in the middle of detox to an unfamiliar, uneven path. Wash was going to have to deal with enough shit without having to add a sprained ankle to the list.
Wash kept a close eye on the dog. At this point he didn’t believe it to be dangerous, as a matter of fact, it’s nose against his foot reminded him a little of Bella Nutella, Gale’s faithful and friendly canine companion. When Gale had dragged Wash to his house the week prior, Tella had spent the night with her head next to Wash just as Gale had spent the night dutifully checking on him. This dog had the same kind eyes Tella did. Wash didn’t understand how anyone could go off and leave it behind. But, people were like that. Maybe they hadn’t had a choice either.
It was taking a lot of effort to keep his hands from shaking as he held the mug. He drank the coffee quickly in order to keep from accidentally spilling again. He didn’t really want it. Wash wasn’t a coffee drinker. He had only drank it for the caffeine in an attempt to keep his migraines at bay. He hadn’t had a migraine in months, but the habitual cup of morning sludge had stuck. Wash was nothing if not a creature of habit.
At Carolina’s suggestion of a walk, he lifted grey eyes from the mug towards her, then to the door, and then back again. “Outside?” He asked after the last remnants of coffee slid down his throat. He was genuinely surprised at her offer. He’d expected to be kept on a tight leash, and he didn’t blame Carolina for that. It wasn’t as though he’d given her a lot of reasons to trust him recently.
“We could take a walk inside, but I think the scenery might get a bit boring after a while.” Carolina rose from the couch and stretched. She had seen how badly his hands had shook trying to pour the coffee and had done the math. As long as she was already up and walking beside him, if Wash tried to run, he would not be able to get very far before she would be close enough to tackle him to the ground.
As she got up, so did the dog beneath the table. Carolina felt her lips curl up in a smile. Whomever it was that left the dog had apparently done enough to house train it. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning up that mess this week. “At the very least, we should let the dog out.”
Wash looked at the door again. The car was a few feet away and again he wondered how far he’d get if he made a break for it. He hadn’t been able to defend himself when she wrenched his arm the week before and he wasn’t sure if he was in any condition to defend himself now either. He wasn’t drunk, but his body had already started to rebel against him. Even when he was peak physical condition he still couldn’t beat Carolina in a sparring match, much less an actual no holds barred fight. That didn’t keep him from entertaining the notion though.
Movement from the dog took his attention from the door. He watched it cross the room to the door. It turned once there and looked back at the pair, tail wagging. Wash took a breath and nodded. “Yeah, the dog looks like she wants to go out,” he said. “And a walk would probably do me good.”
Carolina caught the look, reaching down to get the flashlight from her bag before heading to the door. The keys to the car were hanging around her neck beside her dog tags. Not that Wash knew that, but she would not put it past him to try and find them while she wasn’t looking so merely hiding them was out of the question.
Opening the door, Carolina watched as the dog trotted out and headed into the woods. Somehow, she had a feeling it would likely be back before they would. “Well, shall we explore?” Exercise would help keep her awake too. Maybe they could work up enough of an appetite to put a bit of breakfast into Wash before it came back up again.
Their walk through the woods went as well as could be expected. There was something about being out in the middle of nowhere that was both relaxing and frightening all at once. At least for Wash. He’d grown up in a city, but within spitting distance of at least two preserves. He hadn’t spent a lot of time out there himself growing up, but it still influenced his life in Spokane.
Carolina took them on a brisk walk, more of a hike, really. The two of them found a nice rocky outcropping where they could watch the sun rise over the trees. It was pretty spectacular with the sun’s rays turning the clouds overhead brilliant hues of red, orange and purple. Once the sun had cleared the pines and it’s early morning show as finished, the two started back towards the cabin. The walk back was more arduous. The tremors in Wash’s arms had intensified and had officially moved to the rest of his body, which made controlling where he put his feet something of a tricky task. At least three times he caught his toe on a tree root that had encroached onto the already narrow footpath, or simply lost his footing all together and stumbled along the path, catching himself just before hitting the ground. Three other times he could have sworn something had caught his foot, or hit his arm, or had brushed by his face, but when he looked, nothing was there. At one point the skin on his arms and neck prickled and felt as though he’d walked through a small cluster of swarming gnats when he knew the air in front of him had been clear. They couldn’t get back to the cabin fast enough at that point.
Carolina had been right. The dog had beaten them back to the hunting cabin. She (and it was obvious by now that the dog was female) was sitting in front of the steps to the porch as if watching for them. When the two marines approached, the dog got to her feet and barked a friendly greeting, tail wagging. She scampered up the steps to the door dancing a bit on her paws to be let back inside for breakfast.
The textile hallucinations followed Wash back inside the cabin. The walk had been good, but his mood was spiraling down the more uncomfortable he became. Breakfast wasn’t on his mind, and he paced the common room anxiously, rubbing and scratching at his arms.
Under different circumstances, the constant pacing would have driven Carolina up the wall. As it was, she was far too worried about the reason why Wash was rubbing his arms to get riled up too much. Going on another walk was likely out of the question and most attempts at distracting Wash with games or conversation ended with mild retorts from one side or the other. The only one who seemed relatively unaffected was the dog, who watched the two of them with a worried curiousity from her place beneath the table.
It was not long after lunch that the nausea finally kicked in and Wash was relegated to the small bathroom as the simple lunch of PB&J sandwiches made it’s reappearance. Carolina hesitated before heading down the hall as well. There was no need to hold back any hair, but somehow it felt too cold to be sitting and reading in the living room while Wash was miserable.
She did not say anything, merely rapped on the doorframe to make sure he knew she was there before entering. Carolina studied her options before sitting down on the floor behind him as he knelt, the tub cool against her back. There was not much room in the small bathroom, but it was enough. If asked, she would tell him he looked horrible, with his hair matted down with cold sweat and that sickly pallor to his skin. She reached up to place one hand on his back, where it stayed as he moved between the bathroom to his bed and then back again. There were no soothing motions or platitudes made; just the steady warmth of her hand given as reassurance that no matter how much he snapped at her or how horrible he looked, he was not alone.
He did snap at her, a few times at first. It wasn’t her fault. Wash’s body was betraying him and his mind was starting to go with it. Every nerve in his body felt as though it was on fire. He was feeling things he knew weren’t there. Phantom brushes against his arms, his legs, against his back, his feet stumbling over non-existent, imaginary, obstacles in the short hallway. Wash didn’t want to be touched, he didn’t like Carolina sitting behind him. He couldn’t see her and that did nothing to improve his anxiety. Of course, she could have been sitting across from him and it wouldn’t have helped. He told her several times to leave him alone, when he wasn’t bent over the toilet, the burning taste of bile and peanut butter at the back of this throat.
However, as the afternoon drew to evening, Wash’s snaps and protests lessened more and more. He was too miserable to speak, much less snap. He was so miserable he wouldn’t have been surprised if he was dying. He wanted to die and just get it over with. But Carolina wouldn’t let him. That hand on his back, warm against the cold sweat on his skin. He could feel it through his shirt. He hated it. He hated that she refused to let him go. Hated and was relieved at the same time. He had no idea how that was even possible. He tried to ask her, but had no idea if he was successful.
It was after dark and his stomach long empty by the time the retching ceased long enough for him to lay down, exhausted. The shakes and his stomach still rolling around, refused to let him sleep. He tossed and turned restlessly, unable to find a comfortable position. It was well after midnight when his mind twisted and cracked and ultimately let go.