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That night—was the worst.
The blood itched in my veins, my muscles felt like they had been mashed, my stomach was unbearably turbulent, and I ran a high fever. I tossed and turned in an uncomfortable fit—with the empty hope that one position would offer more comfort than the others. I felt trapped inside a body that was trying to kill me—and miserably, I wished with every bit of my being that I could claw my way out of it.
Sleep wasn't even a possibility—until I felt a hand on my forehead.

“Not feeling so well, are you.” Averil's voice broke through the hurt that clouded my head and I looked up at her as if she were my savior.
Oh god, it was so good—to not be alone. With her help, I pulled myself up into her embrace and focused as much as I could on her touch.
“Your sleepless nights are my sleepless nights, Tu. I can't ignore your whimpering, even from my room upstairs.” Gently, she rocked back and forth, running her fingers through my hair before asking with heightened concern, “Have you been itching? Your arm's all raw here.”
She over turned my wrist to get a closer look at my forearm.
“It's—the worst,” I replied—my voice shivered with defeated frustration, “I don't know what it is, but it won't stop. It itches on the inside—I can't scratch it away.”
She rubbed my arm, “I know it's hard, but you have to try not to scratch it, okay? It just going to hurt.”
I shut my eyes and without thought or care, buried my face into her chest out of restlessness, “I want to give up.”
“No you don't,” she countered, “you're doing alright.” She kissed my head and I tighten my grip on her.
Maybe it was just a channeling of frustration—but I wanted more than anything to feel her squeeze back as hard as she could. Perhaps I just wanted to feel something other than pain.
But she handled me delicately, “What do you think it would take for you to fall asleep?”
I shook my head, “I don't even know. I just hurt—so much.”
“Does it help to have me here?”
I nodded, “lots.”
She let out a soft hum, “is it better if I stop talking?”
“Please don't,” I begged, “Just—” I shut my eyes, “sing.”
Averil exhaled a laugh, “Alright, I can do that for you.”
There was a pause as she figured out what exactly to sing—but when she began, her voice was soft, quiet, and caressed my senses like silk. I let it take me over.
I don't remember how I fell asleep—but as I held onto her, I managed to fall into a shallow slumber.

----

Sleep didn't last long as my discomfort woke me up a few minutes before five. I drew in a deep breath and exhaled a pained groan. Half asleep, it took a while for me to notice Averil's arm draped over my side from behind me, her hand resting limp against my chest.
Not wanting to wake her, I tried to force myself from squirming too much—but it was almost impossible for me to stay still.
Slowly, carefully, I tried to roll over to my other side without causing too much disturbance—and found myself face to face with her. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, her lips were parted only slightly, and locks of her blond hair fell carelessly across her face, spilling down across the pillow her head rested on.
In that moment, I couldn't figure out why the feeling of physical pain seemed to take a backseat to a strange euphoria—and breathing became slightly more difficult as my chest seemed to constrict me. At the same time, I hardly cared. She didn't even flinch as I carefully pulled the hair away from her face. She was up late with me last night—and there was no doubt exhaustion had taken her out pretty well.
It was the weirdest thought to me—that I could have been perfectly content with watching her sleep for hours. It was so unusual—and I couldn't quite understand it.
I figured—maybe I was just in a strange mood...

My breath caught in my throat as she drew in a sudden, deep breath and arched her back in a stretch. When her eyes opened, I was the first thing she saw.
She immediately gasped and instinctively pushed away from me, “Oh jeez, I fell asleep—I should get back to my room. What time is it?”
“Just past five,” I replied, “and it's fine, you being here—it's nice.”
I felt a pang of urgency as she sat up—and had half the mind to pull her back down.
“No, no—I know. It's just weird to sleep in the...” She looked back down at me, “How are you feeling?”
“I'm alright.” I replied honestly, “but—sick.”
“It does seem to worsen for you at night.” She yawned, “And my god, I'm tired.”
“Me too,” I empathized.
She favored me with a smile, “I don't even want to think how you feel,” her brow pressed with sympathy, “I can't wait for this week to be over—we're on day three... Almost there. We'll have a celebration when you're feeling back on top again.”
“Honestly, I can't imagine feeling 'on top' any time soon,” I frowned, “this is—a lot. A lot. It's hard to shoulder.”
She tilted her head side to side in uncertainty, “I guess we just have to trust statistics. But hey, this time yesterday morning, you could hardly hold a conversation. Which must mean you're already on the way back up, right?”
I only shrugged, “Here's hoping. It goes up and down it seems...”
She pulled herself out of the bed, “Did it really help at all—to have me there last night?”
I paused to think of the best reply, “If it were up to me, you wouldn't leave.”
She smirked, “well, I'm happy I can offer at least a little comfort with all the torment I'm dragging you through.” She lingered in the doorway to ask, “Do you think you can hold down some breakfast? Maybe something light—like toast?”
In my current state, I would have been happier just to stay in bed all day wallowing in her comfort—but I only nodded in reply.
I felt so—odd.

After breakfast, physical discomfort began to make a vengeful comeback. Averil stuck by my side and gave me another one of her mysterious pills to help ebb the symptoms of my withdrawal.
“You need to rest up. Try to nap as much as you can—and if you want, I can run you another hot bath.”
I was so tired of being confined to bed—but at the same time, there was no way I was going to gather the strength or willpower to do anything else, “stay with me.”
She gave me a smile, “I will, Tu—but let me run out first—I need to drop something off downtown.” I frowned and she asked, “Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied, “'course.”
She gave my shoulder an encouraging rub and laid a gentle kiss on my forehead, “It's nothing big, but it is important. So I'll be quick—stay in bed and try to sleep, okay?”
I looked on after her as she left my room. I heard her grab her keys by the entrance and after a moment of lingering, left the house completely.

Then it was quiet.
There was nothing for me to concentrate on—except the immense discomfort that continued to wash over me. A migraine had swiftly manifested—and clouded away any thoughts or daydreams I might have been able to find refuge in. But more than my head, hurt my legs. They felt perpetually cramped—as if the needed to be stretched. Yet, no amount of stretching would ease the feeling. I waited for what seemed to be a very long time, hoping to feel some kind of respite from the consistent hurt.
The pill—wasn't doing anything for me. I let out a pained and frustrated whimper. I didn't know what it was—but one wasn't enough.
I tried to rationalize—which was probably a horrible idea given my state.
If Averil was giving them to me, they had to be in the house somewhere. I tried to remember what the pill looked like—small, round, and chalky white. I tried to think of where she would keep them. Some place where I wouldn't normally get into...
Her bedroom.
I wanted those pills—no, more than that—I needed them. They made me feel better—and they were harmless enough that even Averil was feeding them to me... She couldn't mind if I needed more. The pain was my driving factor towards this plan—a severe motivator.
With great hesitation, I pulled myself out of bed and half-stumbled into the hallway. I crawled my way up the stairs and pushed open the door to her bedroom. I gravitated towards the top of her dresser, and scoured the area. There were allergy pills, advil, cold medicines—but nothing that resembled the small white pills she had been giving me.
Then, I spotted her night tables. There was one on both sides of the bed—and instinctively, I started with the more cluttered one. I searched through everything on the top before feverishly diving into the drawer. I found a white, unlabeled pill bottle there, and gave it an inquiring shake. My ears perked up slightly at the promising sound it made and I quickly twisted off the cap.
Small, round, and chalky white—these were what I was looking for. My breathing quickened as I poured a copious amount of the pills into my hand.
At this point, I wasn't even thinking anymore—I was fixated on ingesting as many of these pills it took to make me feel better again. I didn't even need water for this—I couldn't bother. I tilted my head back and went to toss a handful of the pills to the back of my throat—
My hand was knocked away abruptly, and all the pills dropped to the floor. A white flash of anger came over me—but instantly gave way to fear as I realized I had been intercepted.
Averil—who to me, appeared out of no where—held my wrist with a death grip as she frantically scooped up the pill bottle and examined it for a split second.
“Jesus Christ, Turu! What the hell are you doing?” Her voice trembled hysterically, “Are you trying to kill yourself? How many did you swallow?” I shook my head and she repeated herself sharply, “how many!?”
“I—Ah—none, I had none!” She was frantic, angry even—and that alone terrified me.
At my answer, she gave exhaled in deep relief, but her panic didn't subside, “What in the world were you trying to do?” She looked at the pills for an answer and her eyebrows jumped in realization, “Methadone! You thought this was the methadone!? You rummaged through my bedroom, my drawers to find methadone?”
I shook my head in confusion—I had no idea what methadone even was.
“Turu,” She held the bottle up to my face, “These are Jose's sleeping pills. For insomnia!” My throat tightened as she continued, “And the amount you just about swallowed would have put you to sleep—you would have never woken up again. Do you understand?”
I realized then—she wasn't angry at me, she was terrified for me, “I—” I couldn't even explain myself. I only bit my lip to fight back my own rising emotions.
“You didn't swallow any did you?” She asked again.
“No, I swear,” I didn't know whether or not to recoil from her.
She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath before demanding in a dangerously calmed voice, “Don't you ever, ever, ever go through my stuff like that again. Ever.” She cupped my face and drew my stare up to meet hers, “You could have just killed yourself, you realize that?” I could only swallow in reply and she added, “Those pills I've been giving you—don't. Don't look for them, don't. They're completely inaccessible, don't even try—you'll undo everything we went through these past days. Everything, do you hear me?”
I nodded in obedient fear—and at that, she pulled me into an unexpected, strong, silent hug.
Hesitant, I returned the embrace. As my fear-induced numbness receded, I began to tremble under the impact of uncontrollable sobs
“I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to upset you,” I cried meekly, “didn't mean to frighten—didn't, didn't mean—”
“I don't care,” She replied shortly, “Just—please, for the sake of my sanity if not yours—think next time, alright? I adore you to death—but my god, you do the stupidest shit sometimes. I can't even believe it. I'm just happy you didn't end yourself just then. Thank goodness.”
“I adore you to death too,” I replied in fervent honesty, “I adore you.”

After that huge scare, Averil was convicted to never let me leave her sight. Which was fine by me, because in my current condition, I had grown increasingly dependent on her company. It was selfish of me to expect her constant presence, and I knew it. At the same time, I couldn't brush aside my own self pity for long enough to care as much as I should have.
I spent a lot of time napping any chance I could. My itching didn't cease—and almost as annoying was the restlessness of my legs and the aching of my muscles. It just couldn't be sated, no matter how I tried. Only by sleeping, could I ignore it—and even then, sleep could only come in short intervals. I'd be waken constantly by discomfort. I had never felt such pain-induced frustration in my life.

It was the evening of the fourth day. My head was resting in Averil's lap while she silently read a book. My mind was drifting, not quite conscious—when there was a knock at the front door.
I didn't bother to open my eyes—even as Averil quietly moved away, careful not to wake me up. When I heard a familiar voice greet her after she had left the bedroom, my ears perked up, followed by the rest of me.

“Hey, hey! How's my fabulous little sister?” The voice was unmistakably Cougen's.
“I've been better,” Averil replied with a yawn.
I rolled off my bed and crept over to the door, which Averil had left slightly ajar. Right down the hall, I could see them—and weary of being spotted, I sat on my knees and peered just barely past the bedroom's door frame.
Cougen frowned, “You—look exhausted.”
“I am exhausted. I haven't—slept.” She sighed.
“How's he fairing?”
“Turu?” Averil nodded her head from side to side uncertainly, “I don't know—it's off and on the past couple days. He's sleeping right now, but at night, there's no chance of it.”
Coug hummed thoughtfully, “Just keep at it. Think, you're building a hero.”
“From the ground up,” She jousted, “Would you be able to do it?”
Cougen hesitated before replying, “No. No one else thought they could either—and that's why it had gone on for so long without anyone saying anything. We all knew—we just—I don't know... But look at you—just the fact that, by some kind of miracle, you've managed to talk him into this is amazing! That doesn't happen.”
Averil cupped her face in her hands—a defeated gesture I had never seen her do before, “I know it'll be worth it once it's said and done. I just—can't see it yet. I have to be with him every moment, I can't sleep, I can't do anything but watch over him and make sure he's okay. I want to quit. So badly.”
“Don't let him hear that,” Coug warned, “he probably wants to quit much more than you do.”
“Exactly,” she agreed, “which is maybe—the only reason I haven't given up yet. Because he hasn't.”
“You know—there are people who go through rehabilitation for years.”
Averil groaned, “No, no, there's no way in hell I'm letting this drag for that long. I don't think either of us could take it,” she gave a humorless laugh.
But Cougen argued, “Even after he's feeling better, it's still going to be difficult for him to overcome habit, you know. It's a long process that goes past physical withdrawal.”
“You'd know that better than me,” she replied, “I hadn't gotten this far before.”
“Because the last time you tried it, the odds were against you,” Cougen stated.
“My dad—wasn't much worse than Tu.”
“He was different,” He reasoned, “He wanted nothing to do with you. Tu's not like that.”
“At all,” Averil concurred, “Quite the opposite, actually. Clingy.”
Cougen offered her a smile, “He needs you. And you know you're not going to let him down.”
She drew in a long breath, “I know.”
“Listen, I came by to say hi to our incubating champ, but since he's sleeping—just pass this on to him” He turned to grab a guitar case that was leaning against the entrance wall, “he ordered it a while back. He can pay for it when he's back on top of everything.”
“Alright,” she grabbed a hold of the case, “I almost don't want you to go. Your optimism is so contagious—this house could really use it right now.”
They shared a short moment of sombre silence before Cougen pulled her into one if his strong, all encompassing hugs, “We're all rooting for you, sweetheart. If you need me, just call, yeah? I'll be here in an instant. I love you—we all do. So chin up, alrighty?”
“Alrighty,” Averil replied.

It was odd to witness their relationship—really see it—for the first time. I felt a pang of something. I'm not sure if it was jealousy or just pity towards the realization that I was a new addition to her life—and a trying one at that.
As they said their goodbyes, I slunk back into the bed and closed my eyes to feign sleep. It wasn't long before Averil returned to the bedroom, placing the guitar against the wall right across from me.
“Some motivation,” she whispered, “towards recovery. Because I know you'll want to play as soon as you see it.” She walked over to me and lightly kissed my forehead, “You're worth it. You're going to be great.”