As The World Ends

Chapter 21 - 🎶Summer Depression🎶

[TW: Mentions of injuries, blood, someone being fucked up psychologically. Implied depression.]

At this point, Fantôme was the only one of us actually doing anything. I was still mostly bedridden (when I wasn't it was to make sure I could, in fact, still walk), Jasmine didn't want to leave the compound without me, Robin wasn't allowed to do anything because their mental stability was still undetermined, John point-blank refused to go anywhere without them, and Jay spent his time balding prematurely out of stress (I never told him, perhaps this was a missed opportunity). 

Naturally, I hadn't been allowed to return to my normal quarters, probably because Aster didn't want me more than twenty meters from her office just in case I decided to spontaneously combust in the middle of the night - or she could've just been doing it out of spite, who knows - but I never brought it up and was never given an answer. Jasmine had offered to ask for me, but I figured the frowns on my Doc's face whenever she unwrapped my arm weren't good, so I decided (much to Jasmine's relief, though she'll deny it if you ask) it was a better idea to listen to the medical professional and just stay put.

The only mildly interesting thing that occured locally wasn't even fun, it was just something. 

The two collective members Jay had called in arrrived,  listened to the president's transmission, talked about it with Jay for five minutes, then boarded their respective planes and went home. Jay stormed into my recovery room, throwing open the door so roughly it swung all the way backwards and put a hole in the dark grey wall. The commander was taunt as a bowstring, steam practicaly errupting from their ears as they paced in front of my bed, shoving the pastic visitor's chair to the side with a crash, and snarling who-knows-what in German. Of course, this performance was punctuated by Jay throwing their hands in the air and forming gestures that held exactly zero meaning to anyone but them. 

I was never good at dealing with emotional outbursts - mine or otherwise - but I was somewhat familiar with Jay's emotional states after working with him for so long. The best thing for him is to just let everything work its way out of his system and make sure he doesn't have a gun for a couple hours (I learned that last part the hard way). 

So I just sat there quietly while a normally very professional and level-headed person absolutely lost their shit over the 'stupid fucking bastards running this shitshow' (Jay's words, not mine; it was the only thig he said in not-German the entire time). It took a while and several stern talking-tos from Aster about 'stressing out my paitent' and 'stupidity is not worth a heart attack, trust me. It's also a lot of fucking paper work'. Personally, I didn't particularly mind Jay yelling. It was always really entertaining, and the rare event was a treasured and well-remember memory for anyone who got to see it in person. 

When the shouting stopped and peace was returned to the infirmary once more, the commander sank heavily into a cushioned chair - the only one left untouched - working his jaw until I lightly poked his cheekbone and raised my eyebrows. They groaned.

"They aren't going to do anything about it."

"No? That warranted thirty minutes of bleeding ears?" I tapped his nose and shook my head. "Come on, Bluejay, I've known you for too fucking long, man. Spill it."

I was rewarded with an exasperated eyeroll for my efforts, but he started talking again. 

"Yeah, it's not just that, but there's really not much else to it," they rubbed the back of their neck. "I know I reacted very... what's the word? Heavily? to it, but it's not what they said. Just how they said it."

"Ah," I nodded. "Well, if you just want to stay in here with me where it's quiet and you wont be bothered by bastards, I'm free until forever because Aster is never going to let me leave."