swine | ☆

● chapter 22. ○

CWs: mentions of chris being a creep, underage drinking/intoxication, odd practices from the other chapter now in practice.

y/o: your order (if you don't like taco bell, sucks to suck)

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Y/n felt like he was floating in a shallow pool, suspended precariously in still water with only the comfort of the ground being right below him. Conscious, yet not enough to open his eyes and get ready for the day. His limbs were weighted, sunk into the softness of his mattress and unwilling to move.

Bits and pieces of the previous night came back to him slowly. His hand tingled, a faint ache where it was bruised and (likely) swollen. Y/n couldn't quite tell. It wouldn't move, just like every other inch of his body.

Changed the dosage, my ass, Y/n thought bitterly. A glance to his window told him that it was still relatively dark out, and he'd probably have enough time to get ready once he managed to get out of bed or move at all.

For a few more minutes, he just laid there. It didn't seem to be getting any lighter outside, so he shifted, head spinning, and tried to pick himself up with his good hand.

Managing to sit up on his knees, he sighed. Nausea crawled around his head and stomach, and he squeezed his eyes shut to try and calm the dizziness of the sudden change in posture.

He tried to not look at his hand. He didn't want to know. If it was bad, he'd treat it, but otherwise he just... didn't want to know.

Picking up his phone, he checked the time. 6:34, the little numbers in the middle of the screen read. After opening his phone, he looked to see if he had any notifications that he might've slept through. Some of his friends did wake up real early to say good m—

Y/n froze.

53 unread messages and a whole bunch of missed calls from nearly everyone he knew.

He checked the time again, because surely there was no way. This time, he noticed a detail he'd overlooked the first time.

6:35pm.

I slept through the entire day? Y/n's eyes went wide and he scrolled through a few of the messages. Most of them were variations of 'where are you?' and 'are you okay?' but when Y/n opened Hannah's contact, her latest message stood out to him.

were in your house btw

Shit. Y/n cursed himself for making his friends worry, even when he knew it wasn't his fault. He texted the group chat a confirmation of his existence and it immediately exploded with messages. Y/n squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the headache away. He shut his phone off and stood up, keeping his eyes closed as that usual bout of dizziness and nausea hit him.

Tugging on some longer shorts and switching out his shirt, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and mentally prepared himself to explain the events of the previous night to his friends.

Fuck, I missed work, too, Y/n suddenly realized with a groan, holding his face in his hands. He'd never flat out missed a day without telling Stacy beforehand, so he hoped he'd get off with a warning.

When The Swine had said he 'changed the dosage,' that apparently meant he added more of... whatever that drug was into the water he made Y/n drink. Or... no. Y/n remembered enough to know that The Swine hadn't made him drink anything. The first time, a threat accompanied it, and Y/n drank it for his own safety. But... last night, he just... drank it. Didn't even wait for The Swine to say he had to.