14. rock bottom

THREE MONTHS AND ELEVEN DAYS AFTER THE DEATH OF OLIVER SALLOW

If there's one thing that Oliver has learned in his nineteen years on this mortal coil, it's that things can always get worse. Rock bottom is more like quicksand; loath to let its victims go, and always happy to give way to even deeper pits.

He thinks that this night might be the lowest he can get. And he should know—he's the one holding the goddamn shovel, after all.

The call comes at half past one a.m. Lying sleepless in his bed in Dover, Oliver picks it up after the third ring. From the other end sound the muffled sounds of a party, cheers and the kind of obnoxious British pop song he can only stand thoroughly inebriated.

"Finn?" he asks. His voice is gravelly from disuse, quiet enough not to alarm Nova in the bunk above him.

"Ollie."

Two syllables shouldn't be enough to undo Oliver. And yet.

He closes his eyes and curls his fingers tighter around the phone. "I'll come get you."

***

Oliver's body has a visceral reaction to stepping foot onto James Bailey's property. It looks just as it did when he was here on Halloween two years ago—the only thing that's missing are the Jack O'Lanterns and lacklustre costumes.

Even back then, Oliver felt half-invisible as he sat on that couch studying the crowd around him from behind his glass wall. He was accustomed to being lonely even in the busiest of places. He doesn't know why it feels so different now.

As he winds his way through the living room, side-stepping couples and a group of football players playing Just Dance, a quiet unease settles in the pit of his stomach. Part of him wants to grab his old classmates by the shoulders, to make them realize he's there. He would kill to be one of those boys playing beer pong right now. Hell, he would even join their stupid One Direction choreography. Anything not to feel so see-through.

He's relieved when he finally slips out the backdoor. He knows where to find Finn even before he reaches the garden gate. The sight of him on the curb, arms wrapped around his legs, fills Oliver with a nauseating sense of déjà vu.

"Finn," he says to announce himself.

Finn turns his head slowly. It takes his glazed eyes a few moments to hone in on Oliver, and even longer until the sight elicits a reaction. "You came."

"You called." Despite his better judgment, Oliver takes a careful step closer. "You all right?"

He expects Finn to react the way he always does, with a thin smile and a Yeah, sure. Instead, he gives a slow shake of his head. "I don't think so." He drops his forehead back onto his knees. "I drank. I'm not s'posed to. 'Cause of the Prozac."

"Prozac?" Oliver faintly echoes.

Finn makes a tired gesture that doesn't explain much at all. "Yeah. My meds. Been taking them for three weeks now." He takes a shaky breath in through his nose to steady his stomach. "I only had, like, two beers. It's shot my tolerance to shit."

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"Please," Finn manages. "Aarun and Kavi are already gone and I don't want to call my parents."

Oliver nods in understanding. From what he knows about Mr. and Mrs. O'Connell, they would sooner blame Finn's medication than the drinking. "Up you go, then."

He offers Finn his hands. Finn stares at them for a few seconds before he takes them and lets Oliver pull him to his feet. He sways slightly as he stands.

In silence, they begin their unsteady walk home, Oliver keeping an arm looped around Finn to steady him. Entangled as they are, their shadow makes for a strange creature whenever they pass under a streetlamp. Oliver resorts to watching it skitter across the pavement in front of them so he doesn't have to look at Finn.

They've walked for a few minutes when Oliver realizes that Finn is shaking in his thin jacket. Stopping them in their tracks, he shrugs out of his coat and holds it out for Finn.

His eyes go wide when he understands. "Are you sure? You're going to..."

"Freeze to death?" Oliver lifts the corners of his lips in a sardonic smile. "Bit late for that, innit?"

Finn only stares at him, looking stricken. With a sigh, Oliver steps forward and takes Finn's right arm. He doesn't resist as Oliver wrangles it into the appropriate sleeve, then repeats the process with his other. Finding he isn't quite ready to step back yet, Oliver takes his time rolling up the sleeves on both sides, just enough so they don't swallow Finn's hands. It's messed up that he can look so good wearing a way too big leather trench coat over baggy jeans and a knit sweater when, by all laws of nature, he should look ridiculous.

"There," Oliver finally says. "Better?"

Finn's eyes are twin moons, round and bright. His voice is scratchy as he says, "I sleep in your coat almost every night, did you know?"

Oliver did, in fact, not know. "You do?"

"Do you want it back?" Finn asks pitifully.

"No," says Oliver. He can't quite help the smile that steals onto his face. "As any guardian angel will tell you, one coat's enough for the afterlife."

Finn nods, as if that makes sense, and draws the coat a little tighter around himself. His eyes are lingering on Oliver's lips as he very slowly pitches forward. For a second, Oliver thinks he's going to kiss him, but then Finn turns and resumes his unsteady stroll down the street.

Which is good. They've made a promise, after all.

In silence, they make their way through the sleepy streets of Blissby. It's only as Oliver helps Finn unlock the front door to his home that Finn speaks again.

"I don't think I can go upstairs yet," he admits, rubbing at his eyes. "My mum's probably still up waiting for me. Can I... is it okay if I stay here to sober up for a bit?"

Oliver glances at the staircase that leads up to the O'Connells' flat. "Yeah," he says. "Sure."

He perches on the bottom step, Finn slumping down next to him. It isn't particularly wide; there's no way for their knees not to knock together, their hands only an inch apart.

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess," Finn murmurs. To Oliver's relief, he already sounds a little less slurred.

"It's all right," Oliver says. And then: "I'm glad you called."

Finn fiddles silently with the sleeves of Oliver's coat.

"Are they helping?" Oliver asks softly. "Your meds?"

"Dunno yet. So far, all they've done is make me lose weight and mess up my sleep schedule." He pauses for a moment before thoughtfully adding, "Also, I haven't gotten hard in, like, two weeks."

"Finn!" Oliver squeaks.

Finn laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "They're good," he says, more sincere this time. "I think I'm going to keep taking them for a bit. Even though my parents don't really want me to."

"Why do they not want that?"

"Oh, you know," Finn gives a dismissive wave, "Their whole mental illness isn't real shtick. I'm literally taking my meds in my bedroom every morning 'cause I feel like they're judging me. Like I'm some junkie hopped up on acid, and not literally taking the SSRIs my bloody therapist recommended."

"I know I don't really have a reference, what with the whole orphan thing," Oliver says, "But your parents are dicks."

Finn snorts another laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess they can be." He tilts his head as he peers up at Oliver. It's hard to make out in the darkness of the stairwell, but Oliver thinks his eyes look a bit clearer than they did when they first entered. Which makes it even more startling when Finn suddenly says: "I miss you."

The words hit Oliver like a kick in the teeth. Or a kiss on the mouth. Something that leaves his head spinning, in any case. "Finn—" he begins, but is immediately cut off.

"No, Ollie. I need you to know." Finn shifts slightly. His hand comes to rest on Oliver's knee, warm through the fabric of his pants. "You always think that none of your foster families ever missed you when you were gone, but I can't believe that. I miss you every single day. Even now, when you're right here."

He pauses. His eyes go a little hazy again as he adds: "I missed you even before you were gone. I would be holding you, and I'd still feel like you were about to slip through my fingers. And then you did, and I wondered if I ever really had you at all."

The words settle in Oliver's chest like an ache. He wants to apologize. He wants to tell Finn that he's the closest thing to home that Oliver has ever known, that he wishes he could turn back time and work out his issues or, hell, at least think to put in his bloody contacts.

Instead, Oliver gets to his feet, making Finn's hand drop limply into his lap. "I... I think I should go."

For a terrible second, Finn looks like he's about to cry. "Why do you always do this?" he whispers. But he isn't expecting an answer. He's already shrugging out of Oliver's coat, leaving it in a heap on the bottom step.

He disappears up the stairs before Oliver can grasp onto a single word long enough to say it. All that comes out is a heartfelt "Fuck", audible to no one but him as it bounces around the empty stairwell.

As the door to Finn's flat slams shut, he sinks back onto the bottom step and buries his face against his coat. Finn's body heat still clings to it. His words echo in Oliver's head: Why do you always do this?

Oliver doesn't know. He used to, back when he had a heartbeat. Adaptation, is what he used to call it—like his overwhelming fear of commitment was some kind of survival-of-the-fittest skill that would help him beat natural selection. Right now, it feels a lot like cowardice. A trait that used to serve him, but just doesn't anymore. A flaw in his own evolution that he can't seem to right.

As he sits there, clutching his coat to his chest while the sky outside turns from blue to grey, he thinks This. This has to be the deepest he can dig himself.

Part of him hopes that Finn won't remember in the morning, but his gut knows better. Once, he was praying against oblivion and got his wish. He doesn't think the universe will be kind enough to grant him the opposite now.

*************************

angsty times :((

thank you all so much for reading this chapter! i don't have much to say about it today-- uni is absolutely killing me and i'm more burned out than i've been in a long time (which is also why i'm posting this so late lol). just know that i appreciate you all <3

today's song is disaster by conan gray aka wish you were sober's younger sister lol