Young Writers Society

Great, now everyone was in danger. At least, now he was too. Rek’s gaze flicked from Lordshire’s face to his cane to his face again. He desperately wanted to run away. But something deep inside him made him straighten his shoulders and lift his chin. As if in a past life he’d stood directly between Jerica and the wrath of a literal king. He’d been scared then, too. But he hadn’t backed down. And he wasn’t going to toss Jerica to the wolves this time, either.

“There was a disagreement,” Rek said, far more confident than he’d ever been before in this RP. “Got a bit heated. It’s fine now. We’ve got it under control.”

Under control.

Lordy shut his eyes for a moment to stop himself from popping a blood vessel. A voice in his head almost urged him to lunge forward at Rek for not being straight with him no pun intended. Instead, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes to look around himself again.

"If everything is under control," He began, "The explain to me why we have the ENTIRE FUCKING POLICE DEPARTMENT RUNNING AROUND MY CAMPUS?"

"That would be uh," Bo interjected from the couch behind Rek. "Because someone called for the campus police."

Rek flinched at Lordshire’s outburst but then steeled his resolve. If Jerica was getting kicked out over this, may as well make it two for two. He’d be able to transfer to another school easily, and get good scholarships when he did. Perks to being the smart sibling.

“An overreaction, really,” Rek agreed. “Everything was under control before they got called. It’s fine.”

The two professors went into the apartment before Benji and Daniel had really had time to process that they were there. Benji had admittedly heard them coming, but had been too distracted by all of the sounds inside the apartment to notice. Daniel, though Benji had no way of knowing for sure, was too overwhelmed by the lingering smells of alcohol and blood.

Once they realized that the professors had stepped in, Daniel and Benji exchanged a look. They both went for the door in the hopes of giving some kind of explanation.

Just as Benji's hand lingered on top of the doorknob, Lordy shouted.

Benji recoiled and immediately covered his ears. He strangely wasn't scared in the way he knew he should have been, but he was afraid of being close to Lordy when he was yelling. Even with the door in between them, his ears were ringing.

Daniel glanced at the door, glanced at Benji, and then took a step back as well.

"Oh it's fine, is it?" Lordy stepped a bit closer to Rek, "Then you wouldn't mind scooting to the side so that I could take a look, would you?"

Beside him, he could almost make out Morri stifling a laugh, as if this was bringing him some sort of entertainment.

"I'm going to step out for a moment." Morri managed to say before turning and heading to the door.

He wasn't sure why but he felt hollow inside. Not emotionally, of course, for some reason he seemed to be more giddy than he probably should be given the circumstances, but physically. As if the body he was now carrying wasn't his own.

He rested his hand on the knob, barely registering the feeling of it, before he swung the door open to find two little monsters eavesdropping from the other side.

He shot them a wide, almost sinister smile, "Hello boys."

“Fine things don’t need to be looked at.” Rek closed his eyes, biting his lip. He heard it as soon as he said it. Please don’t make that sexual. He opened his eyes again, feeling very threatened.

“Fine like wine in the summertime,” Jerica muttered, somehow managing to make this meta even though she didn’t know what YWS was.

“See? Humor in tact. She’s fine,” Rek repeated, standing between them still. But his stomach was very, very fluttery and his chest was tight with anxiety as he stared guiltily at Lordshire. “Absolutely fine.”

That smile didn't look right.

That smile didn't look right, and not in the way that Daniel's did. Daniel's smiles didn't always look right, but they felt right. They felt genuine and carefree. Morrigan's smile was almost malicious, and Benji had a sneaking suspicion it was because he had found the two of them outside the door.

...Even though they had been standing there when he had come in, so it really shouldn't have been much of a surprise.

"Hi," Daniel said. Benji wondered why he suddenly felt such a lack of respect for his professor. It wasn't like he didn't respect him as a person; he didn't have any issues with Morrigan. But whatever respect he had for him as an authority figure had vanished. Just from the casual tone to Daniel's voice and the way he held himself, he could tell that Daniel felt the same way, too. He still had respect, but saw Morrigan as an equal instead of his teacher.

What was happening to them?

Feeling a burst of impulsive courage, Benji slipped right past Morrigan and back into the room. Lordy wasn't raising his voice as much now, so the danger of his ears being overwhelmed wasn't a problem anymore.

"Carter attacked James," Benji said. "He was trying to move into Daniel and I's apartment, and was coming back to check that he had everything. Carter cornered him. When we heard what was happening from upstairs, we came down and intervened. Jerica tried to stop Carter from fighting James. We called the police because that's what you're supposed to do when someone assaults someone else, and because three people here need medical attention that I don't think any of us are qualified to give."

"Snitches get stitches," Jerica muttered, pushing away from Bo a bit. She was still so dizzy and so confused, but her brain was slowly starting to piece things together. Benji was spilling his guts. To a dean no less. To Lordy.

"I need to you stop," Rek hissed, half-falling over the back of the couch as he leaned backward to give her a gentle shove.

"He's being a little bitch," she complained.

"Okay. Fine," Rek said, deciding that arguing with her was only going to make things worse. "But no one needs stitches... hopefully."

"He will once I beat his ass." Jerica tried to get up, but immediately fell back against Bo.

"I thought we were rain checking the beatings," Rek said, still sitting on the back of the couch -- staying between Lordshire and Jerica, awkwardly.

"Looks like a rainy day to me," Jerica slurred.

"You can't beat people up in front of a dean, Jerica," he said impatiently.

"I'll beat his ass too."

Rek's eyes went wide and he looked at Lordy, panicked. "She doesn't mean that!"

"I mean it so... so much..." Jerica said weakly.

"Do you want kicked out?" he hissed, turning an annoyed glance back on her.

"Yeah."

He looked back at Lordy, blushing profusely. He was now a very embarrassed human shield, but a human shield all the same. "She doesn't mean that, either. Please don't kick us out."

"Hey Jer," Bo said softly, only whispering to her once she'd fallen back against his chest. He was going to try to appeal to her current logic. "It's okay if you mean it. Just don't act on it right now. We don't want to get in more trouble if the police are coming. That could blow up in our faces, and I'm already going to have to explain all of this to my dad. Let's not make things worse."



James didn't get to hear Evaline's reaction to his message before they heard the front door open, and Lordy's booming voice filled the living room. James stared wide-eyed at his closed bedroom door, frozen to his seat.

He knew that Evaline had called campus police, but he hadn't even had time to consider the implications. Lordshire was the dean. Of course, he got notified. They probably called the actual police, too.

Everyone was going to know. The whole building was going to know.

They'd know about Carter - and in some ways, that was good. But it was also terrifying, because he never wanted to have so many eyes on him. And there would be questions. And prying. And more than he knew how to handle.

Lordy watched as the children scrambled to both deny and admit what was going on simultaneously. It was almost comical and had he not found out what he just did he would probably be cracking jokes right now.

Carter.

Lordy walked past Rek slowly and lifted his cane, giving a small but heavy whack to Jerica's head. He stopped for a moment in front of them and began to unscrew the top of his cane to reveal a thick, sharp blade.

He looked up at the kids with a slight pause before he began striding towards Carter's room, tightly gripping his newly revealed weapon.

"Shoulda just told me when I asked!" Morri shouted from the hall.

Consciousness came like a slow-building wave of pain, centered around his face, and his arms, and his abdomen, and his back -- you know what? Everything was throbbing. Something felt broken. At this point, he didn't know what. Maybe everything was broken, maybe nothing. But even as he came to, he felt the same wave of blinding rage that had carried him all the way until he'd fallen unconscious, only this time, it was quiet and sat in his gut.

What he would give for another adrenaline rush.

He let out a faint sigh, trying to take in his surroundings without moving just yet. If any of the others were around, he knew they'd just take another hit at him if he made it known he was awake.

He slit one eye half open, since the other was swollen shut.

All of the voices he could hear were down the hall, but he could sense that the door to his room had been closed because of the voices being a little muted.

He was alone.

Carter let out another sigh, this one of relief. He still didn't move, but at least he didn't have to worry just yet.

I don't have to worry just yet, Lordy thought to himself, the police are probably still scrambling about downstairs.

Before anyone could stop him, he beelined straight for Carter's shut door and swung it open. He scanned the room for a moment before his eyes fell upon the pathetic waste of a character development tool that lay before him. His smile stretched from ear to ear, and he couldn't help but feel like he was used to scenes like this. The only issue was he couldn't put his finger on where he'd felt this before.

I wonder if it was a different land, he thought to himself.

"Hello Carter," Lordy inched closer as Carter laid on the floor, "Let me help you out with all that pain you're feeling, yeah?"

Carter spoke too soon. Or thought too soon. A pulse ran through him and he scrambled to sit up, trying to get to his feet, but just as another wave of what was almost adrenaline crept upon him, he started to hear more footsteps and more voices flooding into the apartment.

He heard a voice. Steady and calm. Placidly professional.

"We got a call about a fight," a man's voice said. Carter assumed it had to be a police officer. "Anyone want to tell me what happened here?"

And another voice.

"Go take a look around."

Before Lordshire could skewer him with the thin blade that evidently came from his cane, he could hear footsteps marching to his room. Lordshire tucked the blade away just before an officer showed up in the doorway.

And at that moment, he was relieved.

With an apartment crawling with policemen, Lordshire couldn't just murder him on sight.

Thank god to whoever called the cops. Hopefully this mess would be over soon--

Jerica was on the couch with her hoodie pulled up, strings drawn so that she was scowling out from a little hole in front of her. Her entire head felt three sizes too big and continued to throb -- from the very moment Carter had slammed the bookend into her head until now, no matter how many pain relievers she took.

She had a black eye from him landing a punch, and there was still a knot on her head from the bookend -- the skin swollen and split open and bruised. She looked like hell. And she hurt. And she'd been seething ever since.

She stared straight ahead at the wall in front of her, jaw clenched. Her hand hurt, too, to add insult to injury. Had she broken something? It was hard to tell. Hopefully, she'd broken more on Carter.

Fucker.

Rek came wandering into the room, on the phone, "Hey, Dad--"

"I'm not fucking FaceTiming him," she snarled, looking up to glare at him from beneath her hood. "And neither of you can make me."

Jerica heard a murmur on the other end of the phone.

Then Rek sighed.

Then, on speaker phone, Derik: "Am I on speaker?"

"Yes," Rek said.

"Jerica," Derik said tiredly. "I--"

"I told you I'm fine," she snarled.

"Yeah," Derik said flatly. "And Rek told me you're not."

"Right, 'cause Rek knows me better than I know myself," she snarled sarcastically. "Sorry. Forgot about that."

Her head hurt so bad.

"Rek at least is honest with me," Derik said.

"Yes, we all know -- your precious little Rek -- never does anything wrong, Rek -- favorite child, Rek."

"Jer--" Derik started.

"I said I'm fine," she snarled.

"Then prove it," Derik said challengingly. "FaceTime me."

"No," she hissed. "I have nothing I want to say to you."

"Then send me a picture," Derik said tersely. "Or let Rek send me a picture."

Jerica pulled her hood even tighter, in case Rek tried to do anything stupid that would get evidence for Derik. Derik always fretted over her like a Mother Hen. And she was sick of it. She'd done what she'd done; and got what she'd got; and having him fussing over her wouldn't do anything but remind her that the motherfucker had managed to mess her up as well.

She hadn't even been able to finish the job.

Carter would have bludgeoned her brains out if James and Rek hadn't shown up in the nick of time.

It was humiliating.

"Leave me alone!" she shouted.

"If you don't start cooperating, I'm going to come down there myself," Derik threatened.

"Good luck figuring out what couch I'll be on," she snarled. Although she herself didn't have any idea where she'd be. Bo's place would be obvious; and Carter's would have been a key option, before what had just happened. Maybe Frankie? Who the fuck knew. Maybe Derik would give it up eventually, before she had to figure out where to hide. She didn't want to deal with anyone. Ever again.

Derik sighed deeply, then, "Fine. Rek, can I talk to you?"

Rek flipped the phone off speaker. "I'm here--"

There was a knock on the door.

"GO DIE!" Jerica shouted angrily.

Rek sighed and looked at her irritably, then walked towards the door himself, muttering "Hold on," to Derik as he did. He pulled the door open to see who it was.

"Hey," Bo said with a small smile. "Just stopping by to see how you guys are doing after earlier."

"I--" Rek sighed, looking down at his phone. "It's Bo."

"Oh, who's that?" Bo asked, looking down at the phone as well. "Hi."

"It's just my dad," Rek said. "Bo says hi." He hesitated a moment. "Dad says hi."

"Nice to meet you through phone call via Rek," Bo said.

Rek took a deep breath, looking at him. He was entirely too flustered to be a good host right now. He felt caught between all three of them. Jerica's brooding; Derik's pushiness; and now Bo's goofiness -- usually so welcomed -- but now feeling like another piece of pressure.

Rek listened then,"I don't know, maybe." He looked at Bo, then nodded over his shoulder at where Jerica was balled up on the couch. "Think you can fix that?"

"Dunno about 'fixing,' but I'll talk to her," Bo said, patting Rek's shoulder as he stepped in. It was at that moment Rek realized Bo was holding a big tupperware container of what looked to be soup.

"Good." Rek nodded, patting him on the chest as he turned and shut the door. "Food appeases the beast."

"You can both go fuck off," Jerica snarled, tucking her head even closer to her knees, feeling her eyes start to tear up. She felt so bad. Physically. Emotionally. And now Bo was going to see her ugly, on top of it all.

Bo walked over to the couch and plopped down beside her, causing the cushions to shift, making her bounce for a second before they settled again. Rek wandered down the hall and shut his door, still murmuring on the phone to Derik but quiet enough they were barely noticeable at this point.

"You really went to town on Carter, huh," Bo said, leaning back.

"He had it coming," she spat, pulling her hoodie even further closed, if that was even possible. Her throat burned.

"I agree with you," Bo said. "Especially after I saw what he did to James. And you. I'm glad you were able to intervene before it got worse."

Jerica took a deep breath, enraged with herself when she realized it was noticeably shaky and sniffly. Great, now she was going to blubber like an idiotic little bitch, too. This was just getting better and better. Not.

She let the breath out, forcing herself not to wimper, but the first of the tears were starting to flow, hidden by her hood. She didn't answer. She didn't even know what she could say to that.

"I think Carter walked away worse off that you two, though," Bo continued. "I haven't seen him leave his place since we cleared out of there. James went home and is recovering, but his throat's still swollen pretty bad. He's holding up, though, and Evaline's been checking on him and stuff."

He paused, and though she couldn't see his face with her hood over her eyes, she could sense his shift to angle more towards her.

"I know earlier sucked. I don't expect you to be okay, and that's alright," he said softly. "And I know soup can't heal bruises and scrapes and everything, but... if you're hungry, the soup's still warm. It might be nice, if you want it. If not, I'm cool with just sitting with you too."

"I already ate," she sniffled, rubbing her face roughly, then hesitated. It was a lie. And thinking about Bo's food always made her hungry, regardless. Plus it was well into the evening at that point. "... I guess I haven't eaten."

"Well, I did bring a lot of soup," Bo said. "Whole day's worth, really."

Jerica sniffled again, swallowing hard, as she reached her other hand into her hood so she could wipe her face with both palms. It made her head throb all the more. She felt like she should eat. She knew it would be delicious. But she didn't want to. All she wanted to do was go die.

And, yet, a voice deep inside her nagged her to not take it out on Bo. None of this was his fault. None whatsoever.

And yet, Derik had been hounding her almost non-stop, ever since it happened. She'd lost count of how many missed calls she had at that point -- rejected at least nineteen FaceTimes -- and ignored multiple texts.

"I also brought a big spoon," Bo added, and she felt the tip of said spoon tap against her arm.

She flinched slightly, and finally looked up, hood still pulled over most of her face, but she glared out from a slight hole to look at him.

"Pun not intended," Bo added, giving her a kind smile. "I mean an actual spoon."

Jerica snorted, but it lifted her mood, ever so slightly. Still, even Bo couldn't shake it entirely. He was probably going to be just as bad about it as Rek and Derik. She rubbed her face again, the hole in the opening getting slightly bigger. "You can go ahead and just yell at me, you know. You don't have to lead into it all gentle."

"I mean, I could yell at you. But I don't want to, and I don't think that would help at all or be very kind either," Bo said. "You stood up for a friend and took a lot of hits, and for that I think the only thing you deserve is a lot of gratitude, kindness, and a big serving of soup."

Jerica sniffled, a fresh wave of emotion constricting her throat. He was so kind. So much better than she deserved. She took a deep breath, trying to force herself to be light-hearted, even though her delivery was flat, "Gud soup."

Bo snorted, smiling wide.

"Gud soup," he echoed. "But you won't know that for sure 'til you try it."

At that, he lifted the big circular tupperware bowl and set it in her lap, setting the big spoon over the lid.

"You should have some before it gets cold," he suggested. "It's chicken noodle."

Jerica lowered her knees, holding on to the tupperware of soup and spoon as she shifted her weight. She realized her hand was trembling. Still. Her entire body hadn't stopped shaking, ever so slightly. She didn't know if she'd be able to manage soup on the couch.

But, he was probably right. She should eat something. And she certainly wasn't going to be eating any of the trash food she had on hand. She should take the offer while she had it. Even though she was going to stay pissy. Poor Bo.

She silently stood up and walked to the dining table in the edge of the kitchen, then plopped back down at it, and gestured at the other seat with a grunt. Bo followed, taking the seat and pulling it up beside her.

He reached over and did the honors of popping the lid off the bowl, and the savory smell of chicken, vegetables, and bone broth rose up with the warm steam. It was almost enough to lift her spirits. Almost. Instead, she picked up the spoon -- awkwardly -- barely able to grasp it with her right hand. She turned her hand over to examine it. The skin of her knuckles were split wide open but scabbed over, and it was bruised from her knuckles almost to her wrist. "... I think I might have broke it... again."

"Broke what?" Bo asked.

She glanced at him, then reached up and took the spoon with her left hand instead, dipping it into the soup. "Nothing."

"I see," Bo said. "Well, go on."

He mimed himself sipping soup.

Jerica picked up the spoon of soup, then sighed, feeling constricted. She was ambidexterous and could make this work, but it still felt awkward. She sighed again, then reached up with her right hand pulled her hood back, glaring down at the vat of soup. She took a bite and only chewed the chicken once before she swallowed.

It was heavenly, as expected. And as the first bite hit her stomach, she suddenly realized how very hungry she was. She took two more bites; anxiety building in her with every one. She needed to acknowledge he existed. She'd already shown him her ugliness. May as well own up.

She looked up timidly, waiting to see what sort of horror and/or judgment would be adorning his expression. But she didn't see any of that. Instead he was just looking at her with what was more akin to tender admiration.

She flushed and dropped her gaze again. "It's good... thanks."

"You are very welcome," he said. "You can have all of it. I'll leave this with you and you can finish it off as you please."

Jerica hesitated, then nodded. She really had gone straight in like a viking, hadn't she? Never even gotten a bowl. No, straight to the vat of soup. "... I guess I am kind of hungry or whatever."

"After all that happened, you should be," Bo said. "You've gotta fuel up again."

"For what?" she asked grumpily. "I'm never leaving here again, ever."

"Not even to go see James?" Bo asked. "You did kind of lowkey - well, maybe literally - save his life."

Jerica shook her head, scowling. "He saved me... Carter was about to bust my head open."

"So it was mutual saving, then," Bo said. "Because from my understanding you stopped Carter from cutting off his windpipe for good."

Jerica shrugged, glaring at the table. "I didn't do anything."

"Yeah, nothing at all," Bo echoed. "No evidence or anything."

Jerica snorted softly, then set down the spoon and reached up to gingerly touch her face. The evidence was clinging to every part of her. "He shouldn't have been able to -- to-- rough me up like that." She turned a glare on Bo, but it was more of a pout. "I am supposed to be the one that does damage; not take it... it's embarassing. Little fucking napoleon-complex fucker."

"I don't think you're an embarassment for getting hurt," Bo replied softly. "I think what you did was really badass and brave, and I think you're too hard on yourself. You really must've not gotten a good look at Carter or his room, because you did do a lot of damage. And regardless -- the one who's really deserving of any embarassment is Carter. He seriously messed with the wrong people, and I think he learned that."

"He didn't need to hurt James," Jerica grumbled, flinching slightly as she felt the knot on her temple. "I jumped Carter and chased him down to his room. But James would never. Never do something like that. Carter had to have started it. I'm sure of it. And he didn't need to do that."

"I don't think it was a need thing, Jer," Bo said slowly. "I think... Carter's just got some serious issues, and he unfortunately took them out on James."

Jerica took a shaky breath, then picked up the spoon and took another bite, glaring at her bowl. She needed to stop wallowing in self-pity. Needed to focus on what he'd said. Was he serious?

"... So Carter looks worse than me?" she asked hesitantly, adding sheepishly. "I was kind of bleeding and couldn't really see and shit."

"Jer, his face is busted," Bo emphasized. "Like, for real. Pretty sure you broke his nose, and his lip. Among other things."

"Good." Jerica nodded, forcing a deep breath, but smirked mirthlessly as she processed what he said. "Oh, no, not a broken lip. The horrors."

"All I'm saying is he looks far less recognizable as himself than you do right now," Bo said with a little shrug, mirroring her smirk.

"Good," she repeated. "And I hope I broke all the things he ever cared about in his room."

"You certainly brought the whole bookcase down," Bo said, sounding impressed. "And that was a heavy bookcase."

"It's these mad football muscles, yo," Jerica said with a small laugh, but that made her face hurt. "But, yeah. I threw it on top of him because he pissed me off... probably didn't feel good. Hopefully."

"I mean, that bookshelf was like twice as tall as him," Bo said. "How'd he even get out from under it? Magic?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "It all happened so fast. We were both getting thrown off of shit. He got me down not much after that." She cracked her neck. "But really gave him hell, eh?"

Bo looked down at her with a big smile.

"Yeah," he said quietly, and for a moment he held his smile, just looking at her.

And then he did something weird. He... winked. But not. It was more like one half of his face contorted in around his one eye, like he was cringing, but it almost looked pained. She looked at him in concern, suddenly yanked out of her own self-pity. "Are you okay?"

Bo started craning his head to the side, still squeezing one eye shut.

"Agh, uh, man--" he muttered, his usual casual tone slipping away as uncertainty crept in. "Um. I -- I don't know. My eye's acting up all of a sudden."

He lifted up a hand, trying to rub the eye in question, but it only made him grimace.

"Ow," he mumbled under his breath. "Wow, uh. That really smarts."

She furrowed her brow, setting her spoon down and turning fully towards him. She put her left hand on his shoulder uncertainly, not sure how to help. "What happened?"

"I don't know what's going on," Bo said. "It's been -- it's been doing this sometimes. Sometimes it just hurts. Like a stabbing through my skull. I think it's just like, a really bad localized migraine or something? Just always behind my right eye for some reason."

But his voice was starting to waver, like he was starting to fight back tears.

"You should see a doctor," she said firmly. Would she be seeing one herself? Absolutely not... unless Derik came. Which he probably would. And he'd probably force her to go. But she didn't need a doctor -- Bo did. "Make sure it's not a tumor or some shit. This looks really scary."

Bo let out a weak laugh.

"What, the faces I'm making?" he asked, at this point, hiding the right side of his face behind his hand, but she could still see he was squinting in pain.

"Nothing is allowed to hurt Bo. Including Bo," she said firmly. "I don't allow it."

"Now if only my eye spoke english," Bo said through another laugh, but this one far less convincing than the last. He let out a sigh, closing his eyes as he turned his face downward, hiding his whole face in his hands now. "Sorry. It normally -- it should pass in a bit. I think I'll be okay. Just give it a minute."

"Take as long as you need," she murmured. Fear was gripping her gut as she looked at him helplessly. She hated health issues. She could beat Carter all day, if he was threatening someone she cared about. But when someone's body rebelled against them? There was nothing she could do. And it made her feel so helpless. And useless. And worried. "Can I help?"

Bo nodded slightly under his hands with a "Mmm," of confirmation, and then he pulled one hand away to reach out towards her. Presumably, seeking a hand to hold. She started to offer him her right, then thought better of it, seeing as it would almost certainly hurt it, in its current state. So she put her left hand in his. His fingers curled around her hand stiffly, like he was intentionally trying not to squeeze her hand.

"You can squeeze it if you need," she mumured gently, turning into him to awkwardly rest her right hand on his shoulder.

He only nodded again, and squeezed her hand just a little. Gently. She squeezed back, a little firmer, hoping it was reassuring.

It felt like a minute or two had passed of Bo holding his head in silence as they sat at the table before he lifted his head and slowly pulled his hand away. His face looked more relaxed than before, but still a little tense. He opened both of his eyes halfway, as if he were looking into a bright light, and she could see him visibly stiffen. Something wasn't right.

"Huh," Bo swallowed.

"What?" She asked. Anxiety snaked around her gut and constricted.

"Not trying to steal the spotlight here," Bo said. "But uh... hah... I can't... see out of my right eye?"

She looked at him helplessly, trying to figure out how she could even answer that.

"But it doesn't hurt anymore?" he added quickly. "As much, anyway?"

"That doesn't make it better," she said incredulously, fear surging through her. This was bad. "We're going to the hospital. Now."

"If both of us show up to the hospital I'm pretty sure they'll think I'm there for you not the other way around," Bo said, sounding like he was trying very hard to stay calm.

"We're going to the hospital," she said firmly. She might not be able to fix this -- but the doctors could. Surely... hopefully. She turned away from him and shouted. "REK!"

There was shuffling in the bedroom.

"REK!" she shouted again.

The door opened and he stepped into the hall. "What?"

"How far out is he?" Jerica asked.

"Is--?"

"Don't fucking give me that, we both know he was in the car before he called," she snapped. "How far out is he?"

Rek hesitated, "Uhh..."

"Tell him I'll go to the hospital if he pays for a Lyft," she said. "I'll..." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I'll fucking go. I just need to get Bo there... a Lyft?"

"Jerica," Bo said quietly, so only she could hear. "I don't have insurance..."

"I..." Jerica let out a shaky breath.

"I guess I could - I could call my dad," Bo said, still whispering. "Or my grandpa. If you really want me to go."

"I do," she said earnestly. "Please." She pressed her forehead against his, ignoring the throb it sent through her head. "Please."

"Okay," Bo whispered back, closing his eyes.

Jerica planted a kiss on his forehead, then pressed her own against his again, holding his head with both of her hands, gently. "Please."

Bo reached around the back of her neck, gingerly holding her, like he was still aware of how much pain she was in. She was, however, only barely aware of it at this point -- the entirety of her focus on Bo now, rather than her own self-pity.

"I'll make the call," Bo said. "I... obviously can't be driving."

"No, yeah, no-- Rek?" She looked up, but didn't see him. "Rek, is he gonna pay for the Lyft?" Her chest still felt so tight.

"No," Derik's voice came from behind her.

Jerica started, whirling around to face him, startled. She felt like a middle schooler again, caught holding hands with her secret boyfriend. Only Bo wasn't a secret. And she wasn't doing anything wrong. And yet, panic and guilt flooded into her -- but also relief? And hope?

Derik's eyes filled with concern as soon as they locked on her.

"I'm okay," she insisted.

"No--"

"And I'm willing to go to the hospital," she continued. "I am. I'll go. And I'll keep my mouth shut. Please just take Bo. Now. Please."

Derik softened a bit, but her words made him look more concerned, if that was even possible. It wasn't like her to go without a fuss.

"Hi, Derik. Nice to finally meet you in person," Bo said with a faint smile. "To bring you up to speed, moments ago I had a sudden piercing migraine and then lost sight in my right eye all of a sudden. So that's what's got her worried."

"That does sound worrying," Derik said, then nodded towards the door. "Come on, then."

Jerica turned back towards Bo, trying to help him up.

"Shoes," Rek reminded, shoving her sneakers toward her.

She huffed a sigh but turned and pulled them on. She usually felt embarrassed to wear her pajamas out of her apartment, but at this point, nothing mattered. Nothing but getting Bo to the hospital.

Bo got to his feet just fine, but as he pulled away from Jerica and started heading for the door, he clipped the side of the table with his leg.

"Ah-- ow, sorry, uh. Blind spot," he said.

"That's not funny!" Jerica snapped, chest still tight with fear.

"Sorry I make jokes to cope," Bo said weakly.

"I..." Jerica said hopelessly. She wrapped her left arm around his body to support him as much as she could, half-leaning into a hug as she did so, gingerly resting her right hand on his abdomen. She wasn't anywhere near as strong as she was thirty-six hours ago and it was anyone's guess whether she'd actually be able to catch him if he fell. But she had to try.

Derik watched them wordlessly, then stepped forward on Bo's other side. "C'mon, big guy. Let's get you to the car."

"I think I can walk just fine," Bo said. "I just need a little guidance."

Jerica stepped forward in front of him, taking his hand and gently trying to lead him towards the door. He followed, letting her pull him forward. Derik looked at Rek. "You too, c'mon."

"Me?" Rek asked.

"Yes. I want honesty," Derik said, stepping forward to hold the door open for all of them.

"You're overreacting," Jerica huffed. "It's fine."

"And that's why Rek's coming," he said flatly.

There was a tense silence as Jerica led Bo closer to the door. This was ridiculous. Derik was ridiculous. But she wasn't going to argue. It would only slow things down, and Bo needed a doctor. Now.

"So uh, how was the drive?" Bo asked, half-looking at Derik. Jerica could tell his eyes were a little unfocused.

Derik looked at him for a moment. "Seems like there are more important things happening right now than my drive."

"Ah," Bo said softly. "Not a small-talk guy. Okay."

"I..." Derik sighed, rubbing his face. "Sorry. I'm a little preoccupied. The drive was fine. What happened to your eye?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Bo said. "Didn't know migraines could cause blindness. But I haven't had time to WebMD diagnose myself yet."

Jerica let out a little whimper, too concerned about him to try to humor his attempt at being funny. This wasn't the time for humor. This was the time for swift medical intervention.

"Uh, Rek," Bo said, seeming to sense Jerica's urgency. "You ready, bro?"

"Ready," Rek said. "I'll lock up. Go."

Jerica gingerly started towards the door, keeping her eyes on Bo. As long as she kept him away from the walls he seemed to be faring just fine - just a little hesitant. She coaxed him into the hallway, trying to lead him forward as fast as he would allow. Rek hung back for half a moment to lock the door, then started after them, taking his place next to Derik.

They exchanged a worried look. Derik was far more worried about Jerica than this boy she was fretting over. But, then, it seemed like she cared about him an awful lot. He'd broken through one of Jerica's brooding spells. That was impressive. There was very little that could be done when Jerica was in one of those moods.

Derik had never seen two people as close as Jerica and Rek were. They wanted to share every little thing with one another -- their goals and their worries, their secrets, everyone else's secrets (they were terrible little gossips), hell, they even wanted to share the best of the best memes and TikToks. And even Rek couldn't do anything about Jerica when she was in one of her moods like she was today.

And yet, Bo.

They walked down to the car, there being very little said except for Jerica's constant fretting over Bo. Derik sent Rek ahead to pull the car around, and he was waiting for them out front by the time they made it down. Jerica helped Bo into the driver's side backseat, then crawled in on the passenger's side. Rek handed over the keys and took shotgun as Derik got in the driver's side and started towards the hospital.

Jerica pulled Bo's hand into her own as they rode, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"So, uh..." Derik glanced in the rearview mirror to look at Bo. "Bo, right?"

Jerica glanced between the two of them, hoping this was about to go well. It probably would. Probably. Derik knew how utterly infatuated with Bo Jerica was -- if anything, he'd probably be more likely to embarrass Jerica by telling Bo all the soft things she'd said about Bo to Derik, than for it to go poorly in the other direction.

But, then, Derik did still have an annoyingly strong paternal instinct, and sometimes he was a bit more of an asshole than she appreciated when it came to her bringing new boys around. She just hoped that this would be okay. And that Derik would take the entire situation into account and not be tone-deaf.

"Yeah," Bo answered. "Bo be me. Or it's my nickname, anyway. Andrei Robert Petrov is my full legal name but no one ever calls me that."

Derik raised an eyebrow, glancing in the mirror again. "Where'd the 'Bo' come from?"

"Apparently it's an age-old nickname for Robert," Bo explained. "My grandpa called me it when I was a kid and it caught on. Spread like wildfire. He took one look at me and my three names and said 'that child is a Bo' and everyone in my life thereafter agreed with him. Honestly Bo feels more like my name than Andrei, but I do reply to both."

"Bo it is," Derik said with a nod. "Tell me about yourself, Bo-Bo."

Jerica was going to murder him. She growled under her breath, glaring at him in the mirror. There was the faint hint of smug satisfaction on his face at succeeding at embarrassing her.

"Well, I'm studying to be a chef," Bo explained. "I'm a culinary arts major, so most of my homework assignments involve food. Which is nice, because you know, food. But since I have to make so much food all the time I usually end up sharing it with everyone else because I like to and also it's just easier to give my fifth cake of the week on hungry friends than waste it, ya know. Makes everyone happy."

[awkward split here]