"You'll forever be my baby boy."

[asskickingblahniks]

Who: Gen Hart, Justin Campbell and soon, Sasha Stanford
What: Fighting the battle
Where: @ Home, Upper East Side
When: this

Gen's nerves were shot. She had been in the middle of a Skype conference call with Directors from their London, Paris, Sydney and Japan offices when her cell phone rang with a distressed call from Amarlie saying Justin had fallen at the gym and he was unconscious. Amarlie was in hysterical tears, and Gen didn't give a fuck how important her work business was, she ended the conference call immediately and bolted down to the lower ground level of the apartment block where the gym was set up.

It was an exclusive gym, a franchise of one of the most elite fitness companies in the country. People who lived in the apartment complex had unlimited access as part of their strata package, but members of the public could join for a hefty price. Justin worked out there if he did got for a run in Central Park. Most mornings, he would take Dory on a run for him, but the gym was always a Plan B. Exercise was important, because it helped the healthy brain chemicals he still had. Many psychs would recommend exercise as part of a treatment regime. Justin needed it to stayed conditioned for his work too. The only time Gen knew he didn't exercise tended to be when he was depressed or physically ill.

Justin hadn't wanted to go to the hospital. When he regained consciousness, he was confused and disoriented, but his head seemed to clear a little. Enough to fight them on going and getting angry to the point he was forcefully extracting the paramedic's hand from his arm when the guy was trying to help him and yelling at him to stop touching him, that he didn't want to be touched. Gen knew that as one of the biggest, most serious warning bells, and no matter how worried they were about Justin, they had to stop touching him.

All Gen could do was assure them they would get Justin to the hospital if he got any worse. He had a cut at the back of his head that was bleeding, and he was so overheated that he started to vomit. They soon had him sitting up on the ground by the treadmill with a trashcan in front of him, but his agitation was escalating. Mark was at the hospital with his parents for treatment that morning, so Gen had to somehow figure out how to be the proxy next-of-kin and make the right calls, taking into account Justin's current state of mind. He wasn't psychotic. He was still lucid enough to understand he had passed out, and that he didn't want to go the hospital. But being touched and swarmed upon had triggered that trauma in him.

He was unsteady on his feet, but with Amarlie, Gen and a couple of guys from the gym helped to get him upstairs. Now, he was sitting on the sofa, leaning over a bucket on the floor between his feet but he was being sick. He probably just felt like he was going to be again. Gen hiked the airconditioning up to try to cool him down, and she sat beside him, holding an ice pack to his forehead after draping another around the nape of his neck. Amarlie was on his other side, nursing a large glass of water with ice in it and Dory was squished in between Justin and Amarlie, leaning right into him and licking his arm. The paramedics had dressed the wound at his head and applied a couple of stitches to stop the bleeding, but the blood was still caked in his hair. They advised to get him cooled down in a quiet place, and assess how he was then.

"Try and drink a little, baby," Gen coaxed, keeping her voice soft. He could have a concussion with the bump on his head, or heatstroke from overheating himself, so treating him like he did was the best course of action. She had left Mark a voicemail telling him what happened, but she hadn't heard back yet. He would be tied up with IVs, scans and examinations. She tucked her fingers in against his wrist, feeling that his heart was still racing. Amarlie had taken his shoes and socks off, and brought a standard fan through from their music/games room and set it up so it was blowing directly on him. Even with that tiny gesture, Justin was pulling his hand away from her touch.

Comments

[asskickingblahniks]

Gen had picked up cleaning Justin's wound where Sasha had left off to crouch down to comfort Justin. Even doing that, she still observed how gentle and tender Sasha was with Justin. But he was also calm, and Gen didn't miss that Justin responded to that. He wasn't withdrawing from Sasha's touch, and as a result, he wasn't from Gen's now either. Keeping her distance from him meant she had missed the escalating. She knew from Mark that Justin had been on the wired side over the prior few days, but rather than try to get up in his face while that was happening, she made herself scarce, still waiting for him to come to her when he was ready. Maybe just not completely pulling away from her was the start, and all he could offer at the moment. He was so upset and his crying was breaking her heart. She was glad Sasha had the ability to intervene peacefully, at leas in this instance. Next time, it might be completely different. You couldn't set any precedent on Justin's prior episodes, because no two were the same.

Justin's sobbed need of sleep hurt too. "If we get this cleaned up, you can lie down, sweetheart. It's probably better if you do. Sasha's here now, he can take care of you. She had asked the paramedics about whether it was okay for him to sleep, not knowing until now how manic Justin was. She was shaken over the whole concussion thing, but they reassured her that was a myth, and sleep and rest would be exactly what he needed. Granted, the paramedics weren't privy to the fact Justin was a self-harmer, though now the intense gym session was seeming like it could be just that. That was another myth, that self-harm was isolated only to cutting. Gen knew of her son having slammed his hand into draws or lockers, sticking his hand in hot water, eating something that would make him sick, hyperventilating until he passed out. All this stuff, the parts concealed from the public, were the hardest of all.

[beautifulday]

"Never. Days like this, I just remember all the more why I love you, and that even if we have to keep fighting for it, we do it together. Not just you and me, but as a family." Sasha had been qualified in first aid for a few years now. One of his dad's nurses had asked him if it was something he was interested in, so he could have the basic tools if his dad was ever in danger. They had come in handy a few times now with Justin, and one time when Toby sprained his wrist in one particularly enthusiastic Twister game. The blood had been cleared away from the cut and with it being elevated, the bleeding had slowed right down. Some cleaning with some antiseptic, a dressing from the first aid kit, and a bandage to hold it all in place, and the worst of the crisis was averted. The more chronic of it couldn't be fixed with a first aid kit. It couldn't be fixed with anything.

He glanced at Gen with a small smile, knowing this had to be hard for her when Justin was stonewalling her. But he hoped she could see how massive a step it was that Justin was letting her take care of him. He might not have struck up a conversation with her or sat down for anymore D&Ms about the situation, but this spoke louder than any of that. Sasha was far from an expert in Justin's condition, but he knew he was at his most vulnerable through the episodes. His emotions were in the extreme, but that didn't make them any less valid. "I think your mom has the best advice, baby. You haven't slept in days. I've missed you sleeping beside me. We don't have to talk about any of this, but we need to help you. What do you want to do? Do you want to go to bed? Or we can call your Uncle Alec? Or maybe you want to talk to Gabe or see another doctor? But we're not going to leave you alone, not yet. That's not safe."

[likefatherlikeson]

Justin listened and knew Sasha wasn't just paying him lip-service. Sasha didn't do that. He was a loyal and respectful guy, and he valued everyone in his life. But more over, if he could help someone, he would. "You're gonna make a great nurse one day, baby," he mumbled, sitting there slumped on the bathroom floor while Sasha tended to his hand. He had one of the worst headache he ever had, that was only half factored to bumping it when he fell. Mostly, it was that overloaded loud frenzy going on in there, where he couldn't tether to one emotion or feeling. Generally, he could cope with feeling manic by channelling the extra energy into things to distract him. But once it reached the point of no return and he could no longer regulate this, that's when he was at risk of letting the subconscious take over and letting it complete take him over. He was never going to understand why people wanted to voluntarily put up with him when he couldn't even put up with himself. It wouldn't be a good idea to lock himself into that train of thought, because then he got upset, and when he got upset, it triggered more of the trauma responses. Bottom like was, he was a mess and he wished he didn't have to have rock bottom days like this.

When he looked over at Gen, he couldn't identify right now what he felt. It was like trying to tune in a television, but you couldn't find the channels and was met only with white noise. Had her coming back into the situation forced him into this episode? No. Not even close. But it had contributed to him feeling confused and doubtful, which made it hard to hold on to any sort control he could understand. He realised he wasn't angry that she came back. He hadn't felt any anger, just doubt and uncertainty. So he walled himself up emotionally so she couldn't hurt again. But any time he forced his emotions in one direction or another, this happened. "Thanks, Mom," he soon added with a slow blink. His eyes stung so much they were burning, joining the pain in his head on full-bore. "I want to sleep. I just... want to go sleep. Please let me sleep," he begged, face crumbling when the frustrated tears started to fall.

[asskickingblahniks]

Gen couldn't stop herself observing. She was extremely conscious of the fact Sasha was a new entity in a situation she had been previously familiar with. He had been on the trip to London, but that hadn't even gone well as to her input to it. Justin's dynamic had completely changed and it was important she understood it. That meant observing and not jumping to any conclusions. Not about anything to do with their relationship (she had to earn the right to be privy to it), not about how Sasha cared for Justin, how they care for each other. Mark had specifically said that at one point. That Justin had taken care of Sasha too, it wasn't all one-sided. It was something so important to Justin, and he had done it so naturally. Sasha was soft and tender, and he had a calming voice and manner with what he was doing. She could see Justin's self-harming and self-inflicted pain had intercepted on his adrenaline rush of the manic episode. He wasn't well. She wanted to wrap him up in a hug and tell him everything would be okay. That was something she could never do, because it was false promises. He was wiped out and woozy. He really needed to be in bed.

She put her hand on Sasha's shoulder. "How can I help, darling? You just direct me, and I'll do it. Do you need sheets changed, or pyjamas out of the laundry? Cup of tea? How about we just get him to bed and see what he needs when we get there. Is that okay, sweetie?" she asked Justin and couldn't stop her reflexive gesture of briefly stroking his hair. She was taken back to that first day Justin showed up on Mark's doorstep. He was drunk and high, threw up all over Mark and passed out after calling him 'dad'. One of the very reasons she freaked out in that first instance had nothing to do with the fact he was badly intoxicated and everything to do with how much he looked like Mark. There was no denying it, but she was so ill-equipped to know what the fact to do, even back then, she screwed stuff up. Justin didn't look now all that unlike how he had that day. Same sickly pallor and same haunted eyes. They could never have braced for the horrific secrets Justin had been concealing when he first arrived.

[beautifulday]

"Clean sheets sound good. Is that okay?" Sasha asked her. Normally, he and Justin didn't care about that stuff. They did their own laundry, unless Justin's grandma was doing her Cyclone Nana thing and taking care of everyone, cooking up a storm, cleaning. Sasha had always been a proud person, and he was well-versed in helping his mom because her hands were full caring for his dad. Doing laundry was nothing. Justin worked really hard, but even he still helped out when he could. Today wasn't one of those days. He was sick, and Sasha thought it might just be one little extra thing to help him having clean sheets and fresh pyjamas. Justin's tears broke Sasha's heart, so he pulled him into a soft hug, rubbing his back and kissing his head. "It's okay, baby. I've got you. I'm going to take care of you. I'll stay with you while you sleep. I'll be there if you need anything."

Sasha was tall and skinny, but he had enough strength to help Justin up from the floor. Justin was a dead weight because his own energy was too depleting to hold himself. This was one of those moments when Sasha wondered if all the people who loved Justin - his fans and supporters - realised that his mental illness wasn't just in his mind. It manifested in a very physical way, and when he crashed, he crashed hard. It wasn't just about having manic and depressed mood swings. It wasn't just about feeling hyper or too flat to get out of bed. This, right here, was exactly the reason why Justin needed carers. As far as Sasha was concerned, it was just as debilitating as his dad's disability. They were both disabilities. "Let's just take it slow, baby. One step at a time. Lean on me, okay?"