Hurts Like Hell (Climbing Class)

Hurts Like Hell

It had been three months, three weeks, six days, four hours, and thirty-two minutes since Chris got off that fucking mountain. It had been three months, three weeks, three days, three hours, and three minutes since the rescue team told him they hadn't found Josh, or his body, rather. Chris refused to believe Josh was dead. He refused because Josh wasn't allowed to be dead. It was him and Josh until the end, he wasn't allowed to just die. Chris wouldn't be able to bear the survivor's guilt if he lost Josh to this.

It had been four months, one week, three days, two hours, and fifteen minutes since he had left the cursed mountain. Chris got a phone call halfway through his day informing him that they had found Josh. He was messy and appeared to be dying, but he wasn't dead nor was he actually dying. Chris quickly asked where they were keeping him and wasted no time making his way there.

It had been one month, two weeks, four days, three hours, and five minutes since they found Josh. Chris had been going to the hospital where they housed Josh everyday to make sure he was treated right. Josh was sick in more ways than one, and in more ways than he could possibly be helped in. Despite being only half-turned, it didn't seem like Josh would ever be the same. He barely spoke, and when he did he made these pained grunts and clicks. Chris didn't give up on him, though. He refused to. His friend needed him now more than he ever did. After Beth and Hannah, Josh pushed everyone away. This time, Chris refused to be pushed away.

Eventually, Josh regained his voice. Well, sort of. He sounded like a six year old, but it was a start. He rarely spoke, and when he did, he usually asked questions or answered them. Chris was very patient with him, which he was immensely grateful for. Unlike before, Josh seemed to dislike his voice and the idea of him speaking. He's not to be blamed for this, Chris thinks, given his situation.

The entire situation itself changed Josh completely, not just mentally, either. The left side of his mouth was torn up his cheek, his teeth sharpened to a point. His eyes had dulled and the bags under them darkened. His skin was nearly grey, as though he was dead, and he was constantly cold, unlike his usual human-heater self. His nails were sharpened and hard and he was littered in scars. That's not to say he wasn't still Josh. Even with his torn up face, he could still smirk that irritating fucking smirk and try, with his limited six-year-old vocabulary, to encourage Chris that he and Ash could still work out. Ashley hadn't so much turned him down after their return so much as ask for some time to recuperate before having a relationship. Of course, Chris agreed. He understood where she was coming from and could respect that. They haven't really found time talk since.

Josh had some new features as well, besides the physical deformities. He would purr when given affection and enjoyed chewing on bones. Josh replaced his beer with juice, he appeared to be more fond of sweeter things now. Not that he didn't drink beer anymore, no that's not it, he would just rather drink juice and stay sober. Perhaps he was scared of losing consciousness. He seemed to avoid sleep for the seem reason. Chris made no comment, only asking him to take care of himself, to which Josh would nod.

Chris spent a lot of time with Josh, just keeping him company. The others had already forgiven Josh, having learned about his mental status and his struggle with his grief from Chris, Sam, and his parents. Josh himself had asked Chris to hide him. He didn't want to face them. He told Chris that he shouldn't be forgiven, he didn't want to be. Chris tried to tell him otherwise, but Josh told him it was okay.

Josh smiled for the first time about three months after being found when he was with Chris one day. He smiled because Chris had told him that he missed him, like, a lot. He had told them they all had missed him. He smiled until it hurt his face, then he began to cry. He didn't deserve the love he was receiving, he thought. Chris held him to his chest and pet his hair. Crying was good, Chris thought.

Despite his limited vocabulary, Josh, four months, three weeks, six days, eleven hours, and twelve minutes after being back, managed to tell Chris:

"I love you."

Chris wasted no time saying it back.     

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My bad

-Goblin