River Pactolus
Part 4 - Ingall
Characters; Garvin (and others), Ingall, and Merlin. Kids and the rest of GRAIN are mentioned in varying degrees.
Word Count; 5530.
TWs; Swearing, varying levels of dissociation, self-esteem issues, self-worth issues, depression, self-hatred, internalized ableism, suicidal ideation, suicidal thoughts, chronic pain/fatigue, nausea, obviously implied disordered eating, panic/anxiety attacks, aquaphobia, and messy writing/ending. Maybe more? Hard to really say.
Notes; And here’s the snippet with Ingall! Garvin is… Not doing very well. Like. At all. Somehow, this somewhat turned into a hurt/comfort. Huh. These two are so adorable. Anyways, yeah. Enjoy.
*~*~*~*
He’d ended up back on the couch before anyone had even been able to welcome them back from the store. Only slightly aware of Aquila walking off, probably in search of the others, as he’d taken off Lent’s harness. He didn’t bother with his shoes, or his glasses or gloves… Or anything else, really. He got the harness off and just. Laid back down, curling over to where he was staring at the cushions, falling back into the daze he’d been in before. Hoping that somehow, he’d close his eyes, fall asleep, and not have to deal with waking back up again.
-
Days passed. Even if he couldn’t tell how long exactly, he knew that much. With all the walking, all the silence, the different ways light fell against the cushions he couldn’t bring himself to look away from… It wasn’t hard to at least know that time was passing in some sort of way. Even drifting in and out of being present to any degree. Just how many days though, was lost on him. He didn’t think it mattered all that much anyways. He was tired, he didn’t want to get up. Really, he was even getting tired of wishing that the couch would just open up and swallow him. That he’d rot into it somehow.
-
He couldn’t remember if he’d gotten up since the trip to the store. He didn’t really care if he had or not. His shoes were still on, every slight movement of his feet when he was present enough to notice it told him that much. Lin had nudged him a few times too, it’d gotten more often. Maybe, though he wasn’t really sure. He hadn’t been able to look at the dane at all anyway. He’d barely been able to curl more, push himself further into the couch.
-
His stomach twisted, and he managed to curl some more then. He blinked back to the present at it too, the realization that he hadn’t been eating knocked into him with the force of… Not much more than a breeze, really. He thought, for a moment, that he should care more about that. But he was tired. Beyond tired, even. And the pain of hunger pangs, though an old sensation now, was still one he knew. Still one he recognized. And it at least meant he’d eaten recently enough to not be past them. He didn’t think Merry or his partners would let him go that long without eating.
-
Even if they should. Even if not letting him do just that was a waste of time, a waste of effort, a waste of food and money and everything else. Even if it seemed to be the only thing that he knew how to do right anymore. He curled some more, tried to push him down and into the couch cushions some more. Tried not to reach out and push himself off of the couch and onto the floor. The cushions felt too soft for him. His partners wouldn’t let him lay and rot on the floor like they should though. He wished they would. Wished that they’d realize just how worthless he was, how much of a waste it was to even try with him, how much better it’d be for them to kick him out or kill him or just… Anything that wasn’t them trying to help him. He wasn’t worth it. He never had been.
-
A wet nose nudged his back, pulling him from his thoughts, and his throat tightened for a moment. He forced himself to speak through it though, teeth gritted at himself and his voice a tired, slurred mumble. “G‘way, Mer…”
-
The nose nudged him again, and he heard a small sigh somewhere behind him that made him freeze. The sound of Apus’ voice was soft, so much softer than he was worth. So much softer than he ever would be worth. A quiet murmur, just loud enough to be clear. He didn’t think he could’ve handled it being any louder. He hated that Gall knew him well enough to make that guess. Hated that Crescent cared enough to make that guess. “Garvin, please, you need to eat something..”
-
His throat was closing again, his eyes burning. He was tired. He didn’t deserve the softness in Angel’s voice. He didn’t deserve the softness of the couch he was laying on. He didn’t deserve the roof over his head or the food he was being told to eat or the care that his partners had or— Fuck, he didn’t deserve anything. He never had, he never would, and none of them were realizing it like they should’ve been. Like they should’ve already had. He barely heard the choked sound from the back of his throat, and he fought to not push himself onto the floor. It wouldn’t be enough to make up for breathing, for his half existence, for taking up space. For anything at all.
-
Apus spoke again, his voice somehow even softer than before, and he felt a dip in the couch. He squeezed his eyes closed. “Please, Vin. This isn’t… When was the last time you ate? The last time you changed clothes or showered or— Your hair’s a mess, you never took off your shoes, just— Please. If you don’t want to or- Or you can’t, at least let me? We’ll go to the kitchen, I’ll make you something to eat, and I’ll brush through your hair. That’s… That’s all we have to do. But please, at least let me do that.”
-
He stared at the cushions, tried to ignore the pointless stinging behind his eyes, and considered it. The idea of food made him feel nauseous, if he were being honest. The idea of getting up and letting Crescent take care of him seemed like a waste of time, a waste of effort. He didn’t want to get up, he didn’t want to be awake or alive or anything, really… Apus’ sounded like he was going to cry though, as hard as everything was to read at the moment, and he… Didn’t want to make him cry.
-
It had been a while since he’d gotten up or changed or showered or… Really just anything that involved hygiene. It was no fucking wonder that Angel had shown up to bargain that shit with him. He was being a shitty partner, wasn’t he? Doing shit he knew could fuck with Gall. He held his breath for a moment, just to consider how hard it’d be to simply… Hold it in, let himself suffocate like that. He let the breath out with a small cough a second later, and he supposed that it was probably too difficult for him to manage anytime soon. So, having exhausted every other option, he reached his shaking gloved hands out… And pushed the cushions he’d been staring at in order to push himself off the couch, and onto the ground.
-
In hindsight, probably not the best way to let Gall know he was agreeing to getting up. Not with the pain it made shoot through him, making him wince and hold back a cough. But more so because of the way Crescent reacted, shoulders jumping and hand reaching out towards him, mouth moving with words he couldn’t make out. He hissed at the pain, ignoring the way he couldn’t hear it, and tried not to recoil away from the hand reaching towards him.
-
His hearing finally caught up to him, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, staring at the hand still held out to him when he opened them again. He forced himself to take it, and before Apus could ask, he pushed out a small, “‘M fine.”
-
Angel stared at him, and Lin’s head went under their joined hands, starting the lifting and pulling Gall’s focus. He set his jaw, tried not to feel too pathetic, and let himself be pulled to his feet. Only for his legs to immediately start buckling underneath him, shaking and painful and feeling like all of his bones, all of his muscles and joints and everything was out of place. It sent him going down again, half towards Apus and half towards the ground with a pained groan.
-
Crescent grabbed his other arm, helping to keep him standing. He leaned against him more than he cared to admit, eyes squeezed shut and trying to ignore the way it felt like everything had somehow shifted, twisted around inside his skin. He felt nauseous, vomit trying to force its way up his throat. It burned as it tried to do so, and it was easy enough to realize that it was probably because it was stomach acid. It’d been too long since he’d last eaten for it not to be anything except for stomach acid. He grimaced at the feeling either way, and tried to open his eyes long enough to figure out what Angel was doing, why they hadn’t moved at all.
-
He scowled at the sight of the cane in Merry’s mouth, trying not to scoff at the idea of using it. He didn’t want to. He didn’t deserve to. It was probably worth more than his life— Scratch that, it was definitely worth more than his life. Lacerta had bought it. There was no way that it wasn’t worth more than his life. Gall’s eyes were on him though, staring and pleading. He wished, for a split second, that he was able to just… Drop dead on the spot. Be done with life and that be it. But he couldn’t. So he reached over and grabbed the cane from the dane.
-
The walk to the kitchen was slower than he’d like to admit, and he tried not to let it make him feel worse than he already did about wasting Apus’ time. His legs didn’t want to work, and with the way his hand was shaking he’d almost dropped the cane more times than he thought was called for. He’d ended up depending more on Crescent holding his arm, letting him lean against him, for most of the walk. It was pathetic.
-
He did, at least, manage to notice the distinct lack of everyone else during the walk there. He didn’t see anyone else, he didn’t hear anyone else. And as odd as it was, the fact that it was Angel walking him into the kitchen told him enough about what was going on. It’d been planned. Gall had somehow managed to, yet again, convince everyone else to leave long enough for him to handle his shit, for him to make sure he didn’t end up in even worse condition because of someone trying to help. He wished Crescent hadn’t gone through the effort of it all, of trying so hard to make sure that the process of letting Apus take care of him went as smoothly as possible.
-
The chair already pulled up to the island in the kitchen and the soup pot sitting on the stove only helped to prove how planned out the whole thing was. He felt sick. He still sat down in the chair when Gall told him to, slow and pained and so not worth it. But he’d already gotten up, and Apus was still talking to him in a softer voice than he had ever deserved. Crescent had always been the most patient of them. It still felt like he didn’t deserve it. Like he should’ve been the exception to that.
-
He let out a breath, crossed his arms on the table, and leaned his head against them. Angel walked past the chair, probably towards the stove, and Lent sat down next to him. He half listened to the sound of the stove turning on, of Gall walking around the kitchen. He stared at where the block that held kitchen knives was supposed to be sitting on the island, and then he shifted his gaze to sweep the counters for it instead. He didn’t have the energy to manage grabbing one, no matter where they were. When he found the counter the block was sitting on, he stared at the handles. Wishing he did have the energy for it.
-
It’d be so easy if he just managed to grab one. He could practically feel the blood running down his arms, down his throat, his legs, his— Fuck, he wished he had the energy. He wished he wasn’t stuck staring. Apus was in the room though anyway. He’d see him with it. He wouldn’t have enough time to do anything more than a stab. And even that was the most he could do, the best case scenario for him. His heart twisted and, yeah, that’d be a fine one stab. That or his damn head, the faulty thing he had in there. If he had anything in there at all. As stupid as he was, as pathetic as he was, as much help as he needed to do fucking anything nowadays… He was starting to doubt it.
-
A bowl was placed on the island beside him, forcing his thoughts and eyes away from the kitchen knives. He stared at the bowl for a moment, at the golden brown broth in it, and shifted to laying his head against the table when the nausea started to creep its way up. It was a waste of food if he didn’t eat it. It was a waste of food if he did. Lin nudged his leg, and he shifted his head farther into his arms. A few seconds passed, and he was nudged again. It was annoying, it was supposed to be. He didn’t look up.
-
He heard Angel sigh, felt the hesitant hand on his shoulder, and tried not to lean into it too much. Tried to pull his shoulders away instead, to convince Gall that he didn’t want the contact. That he didn’t need it or deserve it, or just whatever would make Crescent take back his seemingly never ending warmth for him. He didn’t think he managed to, a hand still on his shoulder when Angel spoke, still a gentle murmur. “Vin, you need to eat.”
-
He shoved his head down, farther into and under his arms, tried not to think about the sound of Gall’s voice, and shook his head. The stinging at his eyes made him feel pathetic. He hadn’t used to cry so easily. He hadn’t used to cry much at all. At least tears hadn’t actually fallen yet. Apus sighed again, hand still on his shoulder, his thumb running in circles. “Can I at least wash your hair if you’re not going to eat?”
-
He really didn’t want to get up again. Not with the way his legs were acting up. Which was stupid. He should be able to walk. To get up and walk and sit and do— Something, without it feeling like he was breaking his legs with every fucking movement. Damn it, he’d managed to in worse conditions. So he pushed himself up, intent on proving that he could, shrugging off Crescent’s hand and forcing his own to let go of the island once he was up. He took a step, and…
-
Ended up back in the chair, hands gripping the island and biting his tongue to make sure he didn’t make some stupid ass noise. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to ignore the hands hovering around him and the burning behind his eyes.
-
He was fucking pathetic. A waste of time. A waste of fucking space and effort and everything and— Damn it, he couldn’t even stand right, couldn’t do anything right. Couldn’t get off the couch without someone pleading with him. They kept putting up with him— Why were they still putting up with him? He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t, he never had been and never would be. He was fucking worthless, a piece of shit and they deserved so much better than him and— He swallowed past the lump in his throat, tried to ignore the tears starting to build in his eyes and how much he was leaning against the arm that Angel had wrapped around him to his other shoulder.
-
He blinked, forced his eyes open, and realized that Apus had gotten Lin to bring over the wheelchair Lacerta had gotten him… Years ago, by now. He stared at it, trying not to grimace too much at it. He didn’t want to use it. He didn’t want to have to use it. He’d walked in worse conditions. He had run in worse conditions. He’d done so much shit in worse conditions.
-
He… Didn’t have the energy to argue it though. And even if he did, he’d already proven that he couldn’t manage walking. So there wasn’t really much of an argument for him to make. He forced himself to lean away from Crescent anyway though, towards the edge of the island instead. He considered, for a second, if he’d be able to hit his head against it hard enough to break open his skull with one good hit. Somehow, he doubted it. With his luck, he’d only manage to make himself even more of a damn burden. So he leaned his head against it instead, closing his eyes and ignoring the small breath that Gall let out.
-
His focus waned for what felt only like a second, but when he opened his eyes again he was already in the wheelchair. He leaned his head back against where he knew one of Angel’s hands would be, tried not to sigh, and let himself fade out again. Away from the world that still seemed off kilter, that still just didn’t seem all that real. Or maybe that was just both himself. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what the difference really was. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was him and the world. No one that was actually real would have dealt with his shit for as long as his partners had. No one that was actually real would have so much shit to deal with, would be as big of a burden. Would be so fucking stupid, a pathetic, shitty excuse of a person.
-
He hoped they didn’t give him a grave. He hoped his partners just dumped his body off in some dumpster or lake or alley or wherever the fuck they decided to dump him at. He didn’t deserve a grave. He wasn’t worth the money it’d cost. He wasn’t worth the time and effort it’d take. He wasn’t worth it. He was barely worth the time it’d take to dump him off somewhere. And that was really just for if he died somewhere that it’d be a fucking inconvenience. Which, knowing him, he would. Ruining everything, even when he died. It seemed about right to him.
-
His minimal amount of focus he’d been able to scrape together so far shoved back into him by the feeling of Apus tapping his shoulder. He blinked his eyes back open to realize they’d reached the bathroom, and that his back was to the sink, still in the wheelchair. He glanced at Gall for a moment, and realized he’d probably missed something being said. He didn’t really care what. He wasn’t sure it really mattered. Crescent seemed to repeat himself anyways, voice still far too soft given who he was speaking to. “I’m going to soak your hair a bit, try and see if that helps with the knots. I have to fill the sink for that though, alright?”
-
He blinked for a moment, letting his eyes drift towards the wall in front of him and unfocus themselves. He nodded a moment later, wishing that he could tell Angel that he didn’t need the warning and that it’d be true. But he couldn’t. He hadn’t been doing any sort of exposure recently. For who knew how long, really. Which was stupid anyways but… He didn’t have the energy to deal with any of that shit.
-
The sound of rushing water hit him like a brick still, after all. Right behind him and quickly shifting from the sound of water hitting the surface of the sink, to water hitting more water. He shifted, trying to ignore the way it made his throat close up and instead focused on the wall in front of him.
-
He blinked and the water was off, the wall unfocused and his hands holding the chair in a white knuckle grip, his breathing nowhere near what it was supposed to be. But also nowhere near what he wished it was. No, instead of either one of those options, his breathing was fast. Shallow and getting stuck every few seconds. A moment later, and then Apus was in front of him, kneeling and holding his shaking hands.
-
He stared, blinked, and tried to get himself to calm down. Tried to ignore the way tears were threatening to prick his eyes again, the way his throat was closing up again. It seemed dumb to him, like something he should’ve already gotten over. He hadn’t come close to drowning in years, after all. There wasn’t any reason for him to be panicking. Gall had warned him, he’d told him that he was going to turn it on. And yet, there he was, trembling and shaking and trying not to cry because of some damn rushing water. That wasn’t even in a tub— It was a sink. It was a fucking sink.
-
He didn’t even know if Angel had filled it as much as he needed to. He wasn’t sure how quickly he’d fallen apart, how quickly Crescent had noticed and turned the water off. No, all he could manage to get from Gall was him squeezing his hands in time with him taking exaggerated breaths. Which… Worked better than he wanted to admit in getting him to breathe properly again.
-
He let Apus continue for a little while longer anyways though, just to give himself some more time before the water came back on if it needed to. He squeezed Gall’s hand back a few moments later, and tried not to lose all of his progress when Angel rubbed his thumbs over his gloved knuckles, a soft breath slipping through his lips and his voice even softer than it had been before. “Are you okay? I have enough water to soak your hair, I won’t turn it back on. But are you okay? If soaking your hair is too much, then we don’t have to.”
-
He stared at Gall, at the look of worry on his face. At the look that just had to be of worry. He tried not to feel too bad about it, tried not to feel like he was being too much of a burden, and forced himself to nod. Forced himself to still his shaky hands and use his voice, as hoarse and slanted as it was from disuse. “‘M ‘kay, p’omise.”
-
Apus didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway, slowly standing and shifting to stand next to the wheelchair again. His voice was still too gentle, too soft. “I won’t let any get in your face, alright? And if it gets to be too much then we can stop. I’m only trying to get the worst of the knots out before brushing it anyway.”
-
He closed his eyes for a moment, just to help convince himself, and nodded. Then kept his eyes closed as a hand found his forehead and another found the end of his hair. The end of it was lifted and placed in the water first, obviously giving him a moment to breathe and make sure that it was fine. That he’d be fine. And then the hand on his forehead pushed back, slight and slow and with the other hand still in the water, going through his hair.
-
He leaned back with it, trying to shift and find a way to sit that was just a little more comfortable. When the hand at his forehead stopped pushing his head down, he forced himself to open his eyes, trying not to let his breath slip away from him again. His hair did need it, as much as he hated it. As hard as breathing was because of it. Either way, he glanced up at Crescent, trying to focus on memorizing him rather than on the water beneath his head. The hand in his hair was oddly helpful, and Gall’s green eyes almost seemed more vibrant than he remembered them being. Though he couldn’t really remember the last time he’d looked at them… It had to be before this whole episode of his had started though. He wasn’t sure how long ago that was either.
-
He bit at his inner lip, shifted his gaze away from Apus. He was a shit partner. There was no way he wasn’t. He didn’t deserve Crescent. He didn’t deserve any of them.
-
His eyes landed on a box of blue hair dye sitting on the sink counter. Unopened and untouched. He hadn’t ever dyed his hair with Aquila like they’d planned to either. He was just the worst damn partner. Washing his hair was a waste. Getting up at all was a waste. He was just going to end up back on the couch, wasting away and doing nothing. He didn’t have the energy for anything else. At what point would everyone stop putting up with him? At what point would they realize he was a lost cause? He wasn’t sure. He almost doubted they ever would. He stared at the hair dye.
-
He blinked, realized his hair was out of the water, and shifted around in the wheelchair so he could look at Angel. He bit his lip, glanced at the hair dye, looked back at Apus, and forced his voice to work. “D’ya… Could we, uh… Do m’hair? The- The dye.” He paused, watching Gall’s face, trying to figure out if the shifting in it was good or bad. He bit his tongue, and looked away, whatever having convinced him to ask ebbed away just as fast as it had shown up. “We don’… S’fine, if not. I don’ ev’n… S’rry. Jus’ uh. Y’can go back ta the… Brushin’ an’ all…”
-
Crescent didn’t respond for a moment, and he almost expected for it to be what made everything snap. But then Gall was sighing, his voice still gentle. “We can do the hair dye too, I don’t mind. How about I get the knots out, dry your hair off, and do the dye. How’s that?”
-
He glanced over, trying to read Angel’s face before simply nodding when he couldn’t. Apus smiled, small and soft and nowhere near as real as other ones he’d seen him do… But it was something. So he took a breath, and looked back at the wall in front of him.
-
It didn’t take long for Gall to brush through his hair, even with all the knots that were still there, even with Apus warning him every time a worse one showed up. It didn’t take long to dry his hair either, even with how long he’d let it grow out. The longest part was honestly the process of dyeing his hair, what with how even Angel seemed to want to make it. A more thorough process than what he really deserved. And one he found himself drifting through, simply going through the motions of Crescent’s hands softly making their way through his hair. It was comforting, soothing, far more than he deserved it being. Far more than he wanted to admit it being.
-
…He still found his eyes drifting to the shower and tub in the bathroom, staring at the faucet and shower head more than anything else. He wasn’t sure why. He blinked, slow, and Gall’s hand going through his hair with more dye was little more than a background sensation.
-
He could almost feel the knobs in his hands, how much effort it’d take to turn them. He could almost hear the rushing water that’d start filling the tub when he did manage to turn them. He blinked again, his eyes unfocusing. How easy would it be? He’d drowned before. It had always been painful, he’d always tried to get out and away quickly. He hadn’t ever tried drowning himself though. Would it hurt less? Would it be more like what other people had described drowning like? Peaceful, oddly painless? It wouldn’t be hard to fill the tub with water. Would he be able to handle the sound though? Would he end up panicking? If it was still painful, what would stop him from getting out?
-
He blinked again, shifting, barely noticing that Angel had stopped putting in dye. His eyes stayed on the knobs of the tub as he continued thinking. Would the sink be easier? He could tie his hands to the faucet of the sink. He could keep his head underwater like that. Keeping the water on would probably help too.
-
He started to take a breath, and felt water burn his throat, tearing into his lungs and stopping his breathing. He shifted, eyes blinking and focus slamming into him. He coughed, shaking far more than he thought he ought to be, and realized that Apus was in front of him again, hands on his shoulders and bright green eyes searching his face.
-
He blinked again, realizing that Gall had finished putting in the hair dye already. That he had finished it a while ago. He wasn’t sure how much he’d missed. Angel looked worried though, brows creased and hands holding his shoulders tight enough that it made him realize that Crescent had probably been holding them for a good little bit. He coughed again, shifting and lifting a shaky hand to grasp one of Gall’s arms. Apus still looked worried when he did, so he found his hoarse voice and spoke. “‘M fine, Apus.”
-
It didn’t seem to help at all, but Crescent did at least shift back a little, his face twisting into something he couldn’t read. He didn’t try to figure it out, just shifted in his seat and forced himself not to look back at the tub. He moved his shaking hand so that he was holding Angel’s in his, and repeated himself, hoping his voice could help get rid of the worry. Hoping his voice sounded comforting in some way, at least. “‘M fine, ‘kay? ‘M fine.”
-
Apus still looked about ready to cry, squeezing his hand and searching his face for… Something. He wasn’t sure what. So he sighed, shifting so he could hold both of Gall’s hands. He squeezed his hands, pulled both closer to his chest, and tried again, forcing his voice to smooth over a little, to soften. “‘M fine, Polaris, ‘m jus’ fine. ‘M ‘ere. Ev’ryone’s gon’ be fine. No one’s hurt. Ev’ryone’s fine.”
-
Crescent didn’t look like he was doing any better. He didn’t really know what to do though. He’d never been good at comfort. He’d never been good at much of anything, really. He bit his lip, and brought one of Gall’s hands up to his mouth, pushing the other against his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment, pressing a kiss to the back of the hand that he’d brought up, and then lowered it back to where the other was. The hands squeezed his own, and he tried not to feel like he was somehow lying.
-
They stayed like that for a while, longer than he would’ve expected, really. Up until a timer went off, and it was time to wash the excess dye out. It went smoother than the soaking had, though he wasn’t all too sure as to why. It didn’t really matter though, not when it meant that he wasn’t worrying Angel even more.
-
When the excess had been washed out and his hair had been dried again, Crescent moved the wheelchair around so he could look at it. He stared at the finished product, eyes firmly avoiding looking at anything else but his freshly dyed hair. The blue had, as expected, turned into more of an aqua color in his hair. Admittedly, it wasn’t a look he had tried before. Looking at it though, he felt a little more real than he had. Just a little. It was a nice difference.
-
He noticed Apus taking a breath in the mirror, and glanced over. His voice was gentle, free of judgment when he spoke, but worry painted his face, underscored by a look he couldn’t quite read. It looked just a little sad though. “So… Back to the couch now?”
-
He took a moment to consider. He was tired. Beyond tired, really. He was almost nodding off just sitting in the wheelchair, even. But… He’d been worrying everyone. And him staying on the couch was probably stressing Gall out, and he really wasn’t being all that good of a partner, and… He let slip a quiet breath, and then forced himself to shake his head and speak. Forced his tone towards being casual. “Nah.. I should prob’bly stay up long ‘nough ta least show ‘quila the hair… Y’know?”
Summer 
Day Weather: 
