Coming Back With The Meds Who: Charles and Terry Where: Room 306 When: Day 10, 6pm
After Landon had left, Charles felt somewhat better. It was the mere having someone talk to him, to normalize him and his brain that elevated his mood. However, he still felt the need for the medicine pulsing in his veins, a million small mouths begging for relief. Lying on his back, staring up at the darkened ceiling, Charles tried to stay in a constant state of mindlessness. He zoned up through the ceiling and to floors and floors above it, envisioning the night sky slowly coming through the tired day. He tried to remember what clouds looked like. It had only been almost two weeks, but these were things that one took for granted. The feel of a real breeze against your skin, the rushing sounds of time and life passing by as you walked, the crushing redness of a blush from someone noticing you noticing the breeze and time and life.
But every other second, his eyes would flex, his brain would snap and he'd realize that he was back in the black room, lying on top of sheets and blankets, needing pills and affection and assurance. Acceptance. He tried to throw it away, tried to find that happy place again, and every time, it was a task. And people wondered why he was insane.
After having had enough time to settle himself, and take some medication for the pain in his shoulder, Terry headed to visit Charles. He had a bottle of pills shoved into one pocket, his hair tied back and a hand in his free pocket. The day had been one hell of a mixture of events, and Terry was having a difficult time getting back to a calm state of mind. He would need to visit Tony later on, after Charles... but for now, the poor man inside room 306 needed the pills that would help him stabilize his emotions, and Terry had promised to fetch them for him.
He knocked on the door, his demeanor quiet - if not mildly apprehensive - as he waited. "I'm back," he called through the wood, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It was almost weird, walking on the carpets in the halls after having been in the sky for so long. It seemed unnatural, foreign... and he hadn't even really spent that much time up in the air. Terry wondered how much time he would need to dedicate to adjusting to the different feelings, hoping this wasn't something that would last long.
Distracted still by his own attempts of self-control and relaxation, Charles had missed the footsteps approaching entirely. Terry's call took Charles completely with surprise. His eyes blinked open, easily adjusting to the natural darkened red haze of the room. He looked down briefly at his self, his clothes or the lack thereof, rather. Boxers were all he could afford in the late August heat of his room, but at least he wasn't moving about and covered with sweat.
"Please." Charles lifted to his elbows, instantly filled with a small, but sudden energy of having tried to save it and sleep for so many hours. Meds. Terry. "Come in." Shifting to the side of the bed, Charles pulled his knees up to his chest, leaning his torso against the wooden headboard. He glanced over to the side-table, making sure in some off-brand form of OCD, that he had the water bottle and the can of coke. The ideas of rituals and the life of the prescriptee flashed through Charles weak brain as he prepared for that oh-so-needed help.
When Terry finally heard Charles's response, he reached for the door knob, turned it and headed into the room with a quietly respectful eagerness, closing the door securely behind himself. He was glad to have been welcomed in after what he'd been through to get the pills at all, and hoped that Charles was grateful to have them. He was sure the other man would be relieved at the very least, and when he noticed Charles and the posture and apparent state of being, Terry frowned just slightly. "Are you alright?" he asked, moving directly across the room to where Charles sat curled up against the headboard. The lack of clothes was understandable, given the heat in the hotel, but it had definitely registered. "I got you your medication, Charles. I got what you said you needed."
Terry pulled the bottle out of his pocket, glancing over the label to be sure it was the right one. He moved to sit beside Charles on the bed, giving him just enough space to not feel crowded, and reached out the hand with the bottle. "You know how much to take...?" He imagined Charles would have to know, given that he'd been taking it for so long.
There wasn't much thought in Charles' brain at the moment, everything focused on the medication, and he ignored the question at hand. "Oh my god, thank you, Terry." In that instant, Terry sitting on the bed, offering the necessary pills, actually caring about Charles, Charles became instantly overwhelmed and lunged to wrap his arms around Terry. The arm with the pill bottle was crushed between them, but all Charles could think about was the elation that came when his body knew that medication was on it's way. He squeezed his arms tight, nestling his head against Terry's shoulder. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, seriously, thank you," he mumbled.
The hug wasn't entirely unexpected, and as Terry felt the arms around him tighten slightly, he let a small smile tug at his lips. The emotion wasn't exactly pleasure, but rather contentment at being the source of a momentary feeling of happiness in the other man. He hoped that the medication would do what they were intended, or that Charles's mind would calm with the aid of something that was so familiar. Nowadays, familiarity seemed to make or break the lives of the people they'd taken shelter with, and as that familiarity faded, life became... difficult. Terry could make life easier for this person, though, and that was good for now.
"You're welcome," he finally answered, shifting to reach and give Charles a half-hug with the one arm that was still free. "I told you I would get them for you..."
"I know..." Charles murmured, taking advantage of the physical contact for just a hair too long before pulling off. He reached for the bottle and started to fiddle with the top. "It's just that these pills mean so much to me, not just for piece of mind...but...well, how familiar are you with BPD?" Charles didn't look up at Terry, focusing now with removing the lid of the bottle with a small pop and tapping out a single pill into his hand and then breaking it in half with his fingers.
Grabbing the can of coke, he snapped open the tab, dropped the pill in his mouth and chug deep into the soda. His mind was running by rote as he went through medication practices. In his current state, having these pills right here in hand was enough to make his mind block out everything else but the motions and actions that would put the medication into his system. It was a drug addiction, of course, but one in which his safety, and apparently the safety of others, required it. Swallowing, he looked back up with Terry, his own eyes almost filling with tears in admiration of this man. Which Charles' rational brain knew that Terry had gotten the medication for the safety of everyone else in the hotel, and probably the safety of Charles as well, he couldn't help but think that Terry had done this because he actually liked Charles and cared for him.
Terry didn't take his eyes off of Charles as the other man struggled with the bottle, his mood calmed after he'd seen how grateful Charles was to even have the pills. It hadn't been easy, which made the reward of helping someone else all the more important. "I'm a little familiar with it, yeah..." He had talked about it already in the last few days, so it was fairly fresh in his mind. He licked his chapped lips as Charles drank from the coke can, wishing he'd brought his water bottle with him. He was exhausted and a little dehydrated after all of the events of the day, but that could come later. For now, he would sit with Charles and be sure he was alright. "And... I'm hoping to find more of that, later. Not tonight obviously, but I'll go out again soon so that we can start stock-pilling it for the future." He didn't want to say so, but Terry had a feeling there wouldn't be much still up for grabs if he waited too long. There were others out there, raiding as well, taking the things they needed, and probably a lot they simply wanted. There would be no guarantee that he could find another bottle, let alone enough to get them by for years.
And what then...? What happened when everyone's medications ran out, or simple conveniences stopped showing up? What happened when winter hit, and they were snowed in without electricity or a means to procure food...? Terry struggled to stop the train of thought, something that had become increasingly more difficult to ignore these days. He worried about everything, and everyone. It was in his nature, but he was worried it was becoming an obsession.