theshatterdome | amnesia.

[it's been ten months.

ten months of reminding raleigh every day of who he is, who roy is, that yancy is dead...

it's been ten months of trying to make sure raleigh doesn't wander off and get himself hurt because he doesn't know where he is or even what year it is.

ten months without touching raleigh more than a tentative hand on his shoulder or the occasional accidental bump because raleigh doesn't know him.

ten months without sharing a bed.

ten months without "i love you."

ten months, and roy is exhausted. he hasn't gone out as arsenal in a very, very long time; all his gear, all his weapons, have been hidden away where raleigh couldn't accidentally stumble onto them. roy still had a workshop, because of course he had to make money somehow, and he'd developed a tracker for raleigh pretty early on. roy couldn't watch him all the time, but at least he'd made sure raleigh wouldn't get lost when he was confused and forgetful.

but after so long, roy can't take it anymore. everything hurts, every day, and he doesn't think he's ever felt so lonely before. he knows it's not raleigh's fault, knows it and could never blame him, because roy is responsible for it -- for the bomb, for endangering his boyfriend, for everything.

he's never hated himself more.

but ten months of no change, no progress, nothing to show raleigh's getting better, and roy can't do it anymore. it feels like there's an open, gaping wound in his chest that never closes, and he can't do this.

he leaves the apartment for raleigh, a note explaining about the amnesia and that the apartment belongs to him, phone numbers for the hospital and his doctors so that he can still do whatever he needs to, but roy doesn't include his name or any information about himself because raleigh doesn't need that.

roy can just disappear, and raleigh won't even know that he's gone.

it's better that way, because now roy can crawl into a bottle of liquor and never come back out.]

[ Life is fucking surreal for an amnesiac. Every day blends together, and every day is new and filled with fresh pain and anger and confusion. Every morning Raleigh wakes up, reads the letter by his bedside, and has an anxiety attack. Every day, he has nearly the same conversations with the stranger whose apartment he is living in. Every day, Raleigh ends up in tears and hysteric or rage filled tempers.

Every day is a nightmare.

It's a little bit like that movie, Groundhog Day, except instead of being self-aware and reliving the same day, it's a completely new hellish experience each morning upon waking.

Around month four, on one sunny Sunday, Raleigh buys a journal. He leaves himself a little nick in his dresser, another on the top drawer for him to follow, then buries it beneath a load of socks and boxers. He sets an alarm for 10pm, every night, the notification only reading 'dresser'.

Every night, he writes what happened in that little blue book and every night he hides it back where he'd found it.

It fills fairly quickly and he has to buy another one, then another until he has four of them in the bottom of that drawer, and he keeps writing, keeps hoping.

And then one morning he wakes up and there's a new letter beside him (not that he remembers the previous ones) from an unknown source that dictates he has amnesia, doctors have been called, and should be there shortly to pick him up.

Talk about a fucking panic attack. It's a huge emotional load dumped on Raleigh and no sooner had he read the letter than a car door slams outside and paramedics are coming in. He's defensive at first, but then he rereads the letter and hangs his head, lets them pack up his things while he just stands there in the middle of his room, forlorn and hopeless and heartbroken.

They find his journals and he stares bleakly at them, uncomprehending until he's handed one and he flips through it, recognizing his writing.

"I don't want to read them," he tells them, shaking his head and shoving it back. "Put them in a box and bring them, but I can't read them. Not now".

And so he leaves the apartment, his room barren and empty, and he's checked into the brain institute where they try to make it nice with brightly colored walls and paintings and open air lobby but it's just a prison.

That's all. ]

Edited 2014-03-15 04:25 (UTC)

[roy feels fucking guilty for calling the institute, but...he didn't know what else to do. he couldn't be there anymore, but he couldn't just leave raleigh alone and confused. roy knew he needed someone to watch him, it just...couldn't be roy anymore.

not like raleigh would remember roy had been there, anyway.

roy had never really known about the journals raleigh kept, but if he had, he wouldn't have been surprised. it's so...raleigh, and he would have agreed it was a good idea. it's at least some way to record memories when his mind can't.

through roy's brief moments of sobriety over the next few weeks, he considers going to check on raleigh, just...see how he's doing, though he realizes that he probably wouldn't be welcome.

even if raleigh didn't remember him, roy was still the person responsible for putting him in that institution.

roy stays in hawaii, if only because it's warm, but it's a lot easier to find somewhere crappy to live, because really, all he needs is a place to crash in between the drinking binges.

wow, his liver is really just going to love him.

he wishes he could care about his sobriety now, but...at this point, he really couldn't give any fewer fucks. the drinking helps, at least a little, and it partially fills the hole that's still in roy's chest.]

[ The days pass by at the institute and are mostly uneventful. He'd say he was settling in but he really isn't -- he still wakes up in a panic every morning, still doesn't know where he is or what happened, but there's doctors on staff that can handle him and know how to deal with a person in Raleigh's position, so at least there's that.

It's weeks before Raleigh even gets curious about the cardboard box that's in his closet, all taped up with no writing on it.

Eventually he pulls it out and it's like a fucking treasure chest of information about the last year of his life. He reads about movies and books and laughter and sorrow. He reads about private jokes, about conversations and scribbled in thick, black ink on the inside of each notebook are the words:

Make him promise.

Raleigh doesn't even need any further clarification. He knows what he was telling himself: Make Roy promise not to torture himself forever.

He thinks about trying to track him down, but knows that would be cruel. According to the journals, Roy tried for ten months. Ten long, hard, impossibly painful months and something inside Raleigh just breaks at that. That the man had lasted as long as he had ought to nominate him for fucking saintdom, in Raleigh's opinion.

But Roy has moved on, and Raleigh can't fault him for that. It hurts, more than it has any business hurting because Raleigh doesn't remember him, wouldn't know what he looked like if not for the picture inside of the journal and a black and white sketch he'd done when Roy wasn't looking (and upon finding that sketch, Raleigh discovers he's not terrible at drawing).

So Raleigh closes the journal and writes a note - let him be - and puts them in his nightstand to read again when he finds them. ]

["moved on" is a rather strong phrase, one that certainly shouldn't be applied to roy.

the money started running low pretty quickly, and roy eventually drags himself enough out of his drunken haze to start working on commissions. he can build shit in his sleep, so it doesn't take much effort to do work that pays, and it at least keeps a roof over his head, makes it easier to go to bars (since bartenders don't tend to like serving you if you don't pay your tab).

roy picks fights like it's fun, provokes burlier men with the taunts and snide comments, and it usually gets him the bruises that he wants before he drags himself back home to sleep off the ache and the booze.

the pain in his body, the haze in his mind -- it helps. it makes everything fuzzy for a while, and that's better.

some days, he wishes there was someone he could call, someone to pull him out of this, but he's burned a lot of bridges and he gives up trying to think of anyone who would help him right now.

he loses track of time, because what does time even matter anymore? he fades in and out of being drunk, of being in pain, only stopping when he has something to actually take care of to make sure he has the resources for all of this.]

[ Days pass and move into weeks and Raleigh fights.

He goes to his meetings, his appointments. He sets his alarm every morning and every night, and reads his journals and writes in them twice a day. He tries to take one thing and remember it into the next day, and he starts dreaming about red hair and green eyes.

The one day, months later, Raleigh is bursting into the doctor's office with a shout, waving a paper in the air. ]

I remember this! I remember this!

[ It's a day from one of the journals, nothing elaborate - just a Saturday that he and Roy had talked shop and played video games all afternoon.

It's progress. The doctor things that Roy leaving jolted something in Raleigh's brain and whatever it is Raleigh's doing, keep it up.

So he does.

Bit by bit, pieces come back, until the doctor is shaking his head and marveling because holy fucking shit, Raleigh got his own memory back, fuck everyone else. ]

Not that I don't appreciate everything you've done, sir -- but I'm gonna go find my boyfriend.

[ He starts by looking him up, seeking him out, asking questions and looking for answers.

Raleigh eventually finds the complex and he's devastated - it's a dump, a crumbling heap and his heart squeezes and sends him lurching towards Roy's apartment number - 7 - and knocking.

When no answer comes, Raleigh picks the lock, and lets himself in.

The place is a wreck and smells slightly stale, and Raleigh stumbles in, and nearly trips over a body on the floor in the living room. ]

...Roy.

[ He drops to his knees, and smooths a hand over his back. ]

Roy.

[roy's so out of it, he doesn't even realize that there's someone else in his apartment. he stirs when he feels someone touch him -- first time in months that a hand hasn't accompanied pain -- and he can't help pulling away at first because who got into his apartment?

he grumbles something incoherent, and he lifts his head with a great deal of effort to look up at raleigh.

...no. nonononono, fuck these hallucinations, he can't handle them. he's dreamed about raleigh before, woken up plenty of times bolting upright and feeling around on the empty side of his bed for something...but all he ever finds is the hole where raleigh used to be.]

No, I can't-- fuck.

[his voice is hoarse as he drops his head back down because everything is spinning, and maybe if he just closes his eyes, he won't have to deal with imagining that he can see raleigh there.]

Hey, hey--it's okay, it's okay.

[ Raleigh's hand smooths over his back, warm and comforting, and the other rakes through his own blond hair, distraught.

He deliberates a few moments on what he should do, then carefully slips his arms underneath Roy, and picks him up.

He needs to sleep, and he needs water. Raleigh can smell alcohol on him and it twits his stomach, because he knows exactly what that means. ]

Oh Roy...what did you do to yourself, baby?

[hallucinations don't usually feel like this, so roy's very, very confuddled mind has decided this must just be a dream. another too-good-to-be-true dream.

his breathing hitches when he registers that he's being lifted, and ow, that shifts a few unpleasant bruises around, making him wince. he considers trying to squirm away from raleigh, because he doesn't need to dwell like this, but...but what's a few hours in a good dream going to hurt?

roy curls towards raleigh, and he's shaking everywhere as he manages to lift a hand, grabbing onto raleigh's shirt. something to anchor himself, something to make this easier.

he's going to wake up soon anyway, right?]

M'sorry. [he doesn't know why he's apologizing in a dream, but...probably because he'd apologize to raleigh in real life too. because fuck, raleigh seeing him like this? roy never wanted that. this is as down as roy can possible get, and it was never something he wanted raleigh to experience because it's humiliating. how pathetic do you have to be to let yourself slip like this?

weak. that's what he is.]

'm...'m so sorry.

[ Raleigh doesn't think it's pathetic at all. Roy has had some awful things happen to him and then when he allows himself to get attached, to tell someone he loves them, it all comes crashing down.

Raleigh understands. He knows exactly how it feels to have your world shatter and leave you broken and feeling like you were better off dead. ]

Shh. Don't apologize.

[ He kisses Roy's forehead as he locates the bedroom, carefully setting Roy down on the mattress before moving to get his shoes off.

Raleigh has to leave him for a moment but it's quick - he just goes to the kitchen to locate a glass, rinses it out and fills it with water before coming back and sitting next to Roy, getting him into a seated position to lean against Raleigh's chest. ]

Drink this, babe. It's just water.

[roy hisses softly when he's moved around and adjusted, and if he'd been more coherent, he would have sworn he had some bruised ribs in there somewhere.

he'd really fucked himself over.

everything still feels dreamlike through the haze of that last night of drinking, and he manages to blink slow, bleary eyes at raleigh as he's leaned against the other man's chest. he kind of just stares at the water for a second, like he's not exactly sure what to do with it, but he finally lifts a hand and helps bring the glass to his lips.

at first, he just sips at it because his mouth is just dry, but after a moment, he gulps it down, getting most of it, but still spilling a little because he's really not coordinated right now.

he knows he looks terrible, because his hair's a mess, his clothes are rumpled and dirty because he'd been tossed around an alley before dragging himself home, and he's thinner, some muscle mass lost over the past few months, and really, the only redeeming thing had been that he's managed regular showers. the shower sucks at the crappy apartment, but at least he could just...sit under the spray and wait out the hangover most days.]

Rals...

[ Raleigh gently thumbs at Roy's chin, wiping the excess water away, then takes the glass only once it's empty and sets it aside and out of the way.

He's trying to be gentle with Roy, he can feel that he's smaller and can see that he's bruised and just...a fucking mess and it breaks his heart so much.

When Roy is a little more sober, Raleigh will help him shower, get him out of his dirty clothes and carefully wash him down. For now, he lets Roy lean against his chest, Raleigh's arms loose around him. ]

Yeah, babe. I'm right here.

Pretty...g'd dream.

[roy manages a weak smile as he leans into raleigh, planning to relish the contact while he can, before he wakes up and realizes he's just alone in his crappy apartment with a hangover, and that's all he's ever going to be.

he lets his eyes slide shut, because he can't keep them open any longer, and it's so easy to let himself drift back off in raleigh's arms.

he's out again in seconds, and he's still got a few hours of sleeping to do before he wakes again.

when he does, it's with a groan at the sunlight pouring in through his ratty curtains, and he hides his face against raleigh, not yet registering that raleigh's really there, because just a dream, right?]

Fuck, my head...

[his head is pounding and he feels gross, and he hates this part so much.]

[ Roy slips into sleep and Raleigh doesn't budge. He stays right there and holds him, though at some point he urges them down until Roy's head is resting on his chest and he's flat on his back. It's a little more comfortable than sitting there like that, and this way, he can doze a little bit, too.

When Roy wakes, Raleigh stirs along with him, fingers coming up to stroke his hair, eyes squinting. Should've closed those last night. ]

Need some tylenol?

Yeah...

[there's...fingers in his hair, a familiar voice next to him, and roy pauses, reaching out and patting his palm over raleigh's chest.

solid. there.

he jerks upright, ignoring the pain in his head and everywhere else and just staring at raleigh for a second, eyes wide as he takes in how he looks in the scattered sunlight.]

...Raleigh?

[he pats at him again, because this is a fucking solid hallucination, and he knows he's not asleep now, and...and how?]

Edited 2014-03-15 15:50 (UTC)

[ He stays there laying on the bed when Roy jerks up, and covers the hand on his chest with his own. ]

Yeah.

[ He offers a crooked, weak little smile and he sits up, and opens his arms. ]

I remember everything.

[roy hesitates for a second, because if raleigh remembers everything, he knows that roy left, and...and he looks like this and he's a mess and why is raleigh even here? how could he not just take one look at roy and bolt?

but raleigh's there, and it's better than any dream, and roy can't hold himself back from dropping into those open arms and wrapping himself around raleigh.]

Fuck-- I thought you'd never-- how? When?

[ He wraps Roy up tight, forgetting the whimpers and hisses of pain from the previous night. He just wants to hold Roy forever and never, ever let him go again. ]

I started...remembering pieces of things. I found those journals, and I figured out who you were and...I don't know. Something just rattled in my head I guess, and things started falling back into place.

[ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.

the hug puts pressure on the numerous bruises dotting over roy's body, but right now, he doesn't care, because raleigh is here and hugging him and this is so much better than waking up alone.]

M'so sorry I left. I didn't-- want you to go there, I just-- I'm sorry.

[he hides his face in raleigh's shoulders, trembling a little in his arms.]

Hey, Roy -- it's okay, I swear it's okay.

[ Raleigh lifts a hand and threads fingers through Roy's dirty hair and holds him close, dropping kisses where he can.

He pulls back a little bit so he can duck his head and look Roy in the eyes, gaze soft, affectionate, worried. ]

I know you blame yourself, and even though I don't I know you and I know how you are. I forgive you, okay? [ Even though Roy hasn't done anything wrong, Raleigh figures that might be something Roy needs to hear. ]

[raleigh's right; roy does blame himself and he really, really needed to hear that.

roy's still shaky, but he holds raleigh tight and hides his face in his shoulder, clinging to him as much as he can and ignoring how much it hurts the rest of his body to do that.]

I'm still-- I'm sorry.

[he looks at those bright blue eyes, and god, he missed them so much.]

You really shouldn't...have to see me like this, fuck. [he almost wants to pull away, but raleigh's there so how can he?]

You shouldn't have had to deal ten months with someone whose mind reset every day.

[ Life isn't fair. Hadn't they been through enough, both individually and together? Fate seemed intent on testing them, but Raleigh isn't giving up. It would have to be Roy to send him away because so long as Raleigh can help it, he's not going anywhere. ]

I'll help you shower. Let me bring you some tylenol first though, alright?

[roy nods tiredly, rubbing a hand over his eyes and pressing it against his aching head.]

Kay. Bottle's in the kitchen.

[he winces as he straightens himself up, scooting away to let raleigh get to his feet. he's definitely even sorer now, and he's...a little anxious about letting raleigh see him without his clothes now.

he looks terrible, and he knows it.]

[ He takes the glass Roy drank from last night and goes to refill it in the kitchen, and gets a few pills and brings them back for Roy to take.

He sits on the edge of the bed next to Roy, and offers the pills, and the glass of water. ]

[roy takes the pills and the water, sighing as he downs the pills and the water.

he manages a weak smile, just a shadow of how buoyant he used to be.]

Thanks.

[he pushes his hair out of his face, and god, he's just dirty everywhere. the shabby, messy apartment is just a reflection of the mess roy has become.]

So...shower?

[because that would probably feel really nice right about now.]

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