Tea Boy: A Deacury Fic

Chapter 28: It Feels Like Hell Part 2

-John's POV-

It's been quite a day today, and it's been a couple weeks in for this two month retreat, I feel like time is flying by fast, but it'll go so much faster the closer the day comes that I'm out of this center. Jacob beat me twice in billiards, I've made a couple other friends who are also current alcoholics, and relaxed by the poolside. Now it's 9 at night, and I'm really tired. I laid in my bed and in five minutes, I shut my eyes and fell fast asleep.

--- This dream becomes a nightmare, 3rd Person View---

John staggered through a twisted, endless alley, the walls dripping with something thick and dark-whiskey, blood, or both. Neon signs flickered, spelling out words that changed as he tried to read them: One more drink. No way out. You did this.

He turned, sensing something behind him, but the shadows stretched unnaturally, swallowing everything. His feet stuck to the ground as if the asphalt had turned to tar. Then, the street cracked open beneath him, and he plummeted.

The fall felt endless, yet he never hit the bottom. Instead, he was suspended in an ocean of burning liquid, the stench of alcohol scorching his lungs. Shadowy hands clawed at his skin, their fingers searing into his flesh. The faces of his bandmates, his family, and even strangers he'd wronged emerged from the swirling abyss-eyes hollow, lips twisted into mocking smiles.

A voice, deep and guttural, rumbled through the darkness.

"You thought you were drinking it... but it was drinking you."

John tried to scream, but his mouth filled with fire. He convulsed as the liquid forced its way down his throat, burning him from the inside out. Around him, others floated in the endless inferno, their wails merging into an unholy symphony of suffering. Some reached for help, others laughed in madness, doomed to drown in their own choices.

Then, he saw himself-a gaunt, skeletal figure trapped in a never-ending loop, raising a glass in a toast, drinking, and then watching his own flesh melt away, over and over again.

John thrashed, desperate to wake up, but the voice returned, colder this time.

"You don't wake up from hell."

With a final, deafening roar, the flames consumed him.

And then-John bolted upright in bed, gasping, drenched in sweat. His hands trembled, reaching for something-his lion pendant, an anchor to reality. The nightmare still clung to him, its message clear. Tears stung his eyes as he sobbed quietly. "I'm never doing it again. No more alcohol.", he repeatedly whispers to himself.

If he didn't change, one day, he might not wake up at all.

The next morning

-Jacob's POV-

"Mr. Deacon, wake up, I'm ready to beat you arse at billiards once again!", I bellowed knocking on his door, but no answer. "John? Wake up!" I creaked the door open and I was mortified! My heart skipped a beat, fear rushing through me as he rushed to John's side. His body was cold to the touch, and when I glanced down at his face, my stomach twisted.

Blood.

There was blood smeared across John's forehead, dripping down his face, staining his shirt. His breathing was shallow, uneven, but at least there was a pulse. I felt a wave of relief flood through me, but it was quickly replaced with panic. What the hell had happened to him last night

"John?" I tried again, louder this time. Then I saw his body turn to me. "Ja-jacob?", he groggily uttered. "Oh thank heavens you're okay! You fucking scared me for a moment, I was so close to calling over a nurse!", I breathed. Blood was still dripping from his forehead. "John you're bleeding, what happened to you?", I asked observing his forehead. "Sleepwalking perhaps, I bumped my head pretty hard. I had an incredibly bad nightmare.", he replied. "You can explain it in a few minutes, lemme get you something for that injury.", I helped him up and put him back on his bed gently. I went back in my room to retrieve the first aid kit and a cool towel.

"Now tell me about this nightmare John.", I inquired placing the towel on his oozing forehead. "It was like... I was trapped," John began, his words slow and measured, as if he could hardly believe them himself. "I was in a dark place, and it felt like I couldn't breathe, like the walls were closing in. The more I struggled, the tighter they got. There were these shadows, these... people, I think? But they weren't really people. They were just... eyes. Eyes watching me, judging me." I remained silent, but he could feel my presence, steady and grounding. It helped him keep talking.

"I kept hearing these whispers, like... voices from every direction, all telling me I was wrong, that I deserved to be there. There were these signs that said something like You did this and no turning back. But the worst part?" John paused, his voice trembling. "The worst part was the feeling. The fear. I thought I was going to die, Jacob! I honestly thought that was it, like I wasn't going to wake up. There was this voice telling me that I thought I was drinking it but it was drinking me!"

My hand found his, offering silent comfort as I processed the weight of what John had just shared. It wasn't just a nightmare. It was a manifestation of something deeper, something gnawing at John.....his alcoholism.

He took a shaky breath, his eyes opening as he met my gaze. "I don't know if I can shake this off, Jacob. I don't know how to get rid of this problem.... this feeling that I'm... broken."

I squeezed his hand, giving him a reassuring look. "You're not broken, John. It's just a nightmare. Whatever it is you're carrying, it's not going to define you."

John closed his eyes, the tightness in his chest not quite easing but hearing my words offered a strange comfort. Maybe it wasn't all lost. Maybe this nightmare was just a reflection of everything he had faced in the past and what he's facing now, everything he had kept buried. But thankfully I was here, and maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

"It felt so real, though," John whispered, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that it was just a dream, nothing more. "Like it was... something that's coming for me."

My voice was steady, but there was a softness to it that John needed to hear. "Whatever it was, it's not real. Not here. Not now."

He looked at me, the weight of his nightmare still heavy in his chest, but Jacob's presence was a lifeline. "I'm not leaving you to deal with it alone, not the staff, the others, your bandmates, not even your boyfriend," Jacob added firmly. "You've got me, John. Whatever it takes, we'll face it together."

John nodded slowly, his thoughts a jumble. The nightmare had shaken him to his core, but with me by his side, he felt like there might be a way out of the darkness. I pulled him in for a hug to reassure him that he wasn't alone in this fight, not anymore.

It's gonna be a hard one, but I know he's gonna make it out.