I'm Going Slightly Mad: Chapter Nineteen

So he ignored it. He was an expert when it came to ignoring things. He had so much practice in the art of ignorance that it came naturally to him. He couldn’t honestly say he was proud of it, but he was occasionally grateful for it.

His odd schedule had him dashing around campus just to get to his classes on time. This wasn’t usually a problem. In middle and high school, he’d been on the track team. He could run quickly, and he could run well. Sprinting from building to building was actually sort of fun, and he’d started keeping track of his times and striving to beat them. It was a great way to stay energized in the middle of the day, and he was burning calories.

He’d gotten used to being twenty pounds lighter, and had found the slight change in his appearance somewhat appealing. He was even more slender now, with prominent hip bones and visible ribs. It did make him that much more effeminate, and he was sure it looked unhealthy, but he felt great, and he wanted to stay that way, so he ran.

That was what he was doing now: sprinting to his next class. This one was all the way across campus, and up a flight of stairs, so this was easier said than done. There was only one sprint that truly wore him out, and that was this one. It didn’t help that he was already running late. He’d probably be the last one to class, save for Miles, who seemed to be in a constant state of tardy.

He burst through the door, panting like a dog, and barely paused before launching himself up the steps, taking them three at a time. Even though his legs were a bit stumpy, he could jump pretty far, thanks to developed calves and strong thighs. Since three was only barely challenging, he tried for four. He paused for a split second, gathering all his strength, and then lept. His foot skimmed the fourth stair, and then slipped, and he was sent crashing back to the first floor. He thrashed violently, scrambling to halt his fall. He slammed his hands down, heedless of the stupidity of this decision. His left hand reached first, impacting harshly and bending back too far, tearing a curt cry from him. He froze, went limp, and slipped slowly down the last couple steps, gasping in pain with each one.

By the time he finally landed, he could hardly think through the pain in his wrist. It felt like it had snapped, and upon closer inspection, he found that it was no longer shaped right and he couldn’t get it to move. Every time he tried, burning pain shot all the way through him. His breath hitched when it brushed against the ground. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, and cradled his wrist to his chest, growling softly to himself.

At least he hadn’t bashed his head. Or his right wrist. And thank God no one had seen him fall, though that did make it a little difficult to get help.

With his right hand, he grabbed at his messenger bag, lying abandoned on the floor. He cursed as he realized his laptop was in there. It was probably fucked up beyond all recognition, now. He’d have to get Miles to salvage the hard drive.

Miles! Miles would be on his way here right now; this was one of the classes they shared. He’d get here, he’d see Aaron, and he’d help him without making him feel like a dumbass for getting hurt in the first place. He just had to wait for Miles, and then everything would be okay.

He took a deep breath, then let it out, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. Carefully, he shifted so he was sitting against the wall, left arm lying across his lap, right draped over his bag.

He just had to wait. Miles would know what to do, and it would stop hurting. He’d be okay.

He closed his eyes and kept breathing slowly, trying his hardest to calm down. Panicking would only make things worse.

As he waited, he realized that his jeans were ripped, with blood seeping through the holes. He’d scraped up his shins pretty badly. His elbows were in pretty bad shape as well.

All this because he fell down-- actually, no. He’d fallen up the stairs. There was no way to explain this without sounding like an idiot. Miles was going to think he was the dumbest person on the face of the Earth.

He groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall. He wasn’t sure he could wait much longer. What if Miles didn’t come to class at all? Then Aaron would have to sit there, stranded, until class let out. He could call Lucas, but he was probably at work, and Aaron didn’t think you could just up and leave in the middle of the day when you were a police officer.

He was stuck, sitting uselessly in an abandoned stairwell, surrounded only by bland gray tile that was stained with filthy shoeprints and scuffed from years of use. This must be what they called ‘rock bottom’, and in Aaron’s case, it was practically literal.

It felt like hours had passed by the time Miles found him.

“Aaron!” He dropped his books and rushed to Aaron’s side, kneeling beside him. “What happened?”

Aaron smiled shakily, trying to look okay. “Tripped. I think my wrist might be broken. Hurts really bad. Think you can drive me to the emergency room?”

“Yeah, of course! You can walk, right?”

As Aaron nodded, Miles gathered up his books, grabbed his car keys, and slung Aaron’s messenger bag over his shoulder. He crouched beside Aaron, sliding an arm around his waist and helping him up, then guiding him back out to his car.

“How exactly did you trip?” Miles asked.

“Running up the stairs,” Aaron admitted, voice low and embarrassed.

Miles winced. “Ouch.”

Aaron laughed. “Understatement of the year.”

Miles kept him distracted with conversation all the way to the hospital. It was difficult to take his mind off something so painful, but Miles kept him from breaking down and crying, at least.

When they finally got to the emergency room, they were faced with a fifteen minute wait, and Aaron wasn’t sure he could go that long without starting to scream. His wrist was only feeling worse and worse, and he could feel his scraped up shins and elbows now, too. He felt like he was just one whole being of pain. Mile’s tried his best to keep him thinking about other things, but eventually Aaron couldn’t keep the thread of the conversation. Miles could no longer soothe him. Aaron just spaced out until he was called up.

They X-rayed his wrist, and, surprise surprise, it was broken. In two different places, at that. It wasn’t a very bad break, just enough to hurt like hell. There wasn’t much that could be done with it besides putting it in a cast, much to Aaron’s disappointment. The cast was clunky and heavy, and Aaron could already tell it was going to get in the way of everything.

After making sure the cast was stable, giving him a prescription for painkillers, and making him schedule another appointment, they let him go, passing him back into Miles’s care.

The first thing Miles did was find a marker and sign his cast, as if they were in elementary school. Aaron, a bit goofy from all the painkillers they’d pumped into him, giggled like a lunatic and traced the signature with his finger. It was blue, Aaron noted, and loudly informed Miles that blue was his very favorite color. Miles chuckled and drew a little star next to it, just to amuse him. Aaron admired it, captivated by it as Miles lead him out of the hospital.

He liked these painkillers. They were nice. He could tell that he was still in a bit of pain, but he didn’t really care, so everything was fine. Peachy. Wonderful. Perfect.

By the time they got home, he was tired. He wanted to fall into bed and sleep for a week. Miles asked him if he could stay over to take care of him, but Aaron assured him that he could take care of himself. Miles fussed for a few minutes, but soon gave in, and kissed Aaron on the forehead before going home.

Aaron was too drugged to realize that this was weird.

***

I'm going slightly mad

I'm going slightly mad

It finally happened

It finally happened - oh yes

It finally happened

I'm slightly mad!