CHAPTER THIRTY: THAT'S A LOT MORE PERMANENT THAN MATCHING TATTOOS

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SAVING...

SAVING...

SAVING...

SAVING COMPLETE!

"... No, I didn't know that she was going to show up at the gig with him. You think I'd put his life at risk like that? Everything I've done so far has been to save him."

"I'm not accusing you of that, okay? I know you wouldn't. I'm just saying, first she's at Holy Moly, then she follows us home and attacks us. Either she's following you or someone's sicking your psychopathic exes on us."

He can hear the conversation going on around him, but can't seem to open his eyes. Josh's side stretches and sending a stabbing pain through him when he tries to sit up. Whoever's talking hasn't notice him moving yet.

"I think I have an idea of who, but you have to promise me not to tell him." That's Tyler's voice, frantic and frustrated.

Max's signature sigh. "Fine. As long as that means he'll be safe."

"Say it. Pinky promise me."

"What are you, seven?"

"Just do it, asswipe."

"Fine. I pinky promise."

Josh tries again to sit, managing to open his eyes while he braves his body with his hands. Bad idea, turns out, as sharp needles explode from his shoulder, making him groan loudly, catching the attention of a bickering Tyler and Max.

Tyler's head whips towards him when Josh's shoulder gives out and grabs his bicep to steady Josh while he successfully gets himself up.

"You're awake. It's about time," he says, smiling in relief.

"What happened?" Josh asks, noticing the bag of red liquids connected to his IV. "Did I pass out?"

Max laughs. "Yeah, you completely blacked out. It would've been hilarious if it didn't look like you'd just gotten murdered."

Josh laughs then winces, a hand hovering over his side. "Ow," he groans.

"Careful. You might pop a stitch out if you move too much." Tyler kisses his cheek. "I'm so sorry, J."

"Don't be. It's Jenna's fault. You defeated her, right?"

"Yup. She's donezo, for now at least."

He grabs Tyler's hands, seeing bandages around all of his fingers, and gently kisses them. "Did you get stitches too?"

"Yup. We've got nineteen stitches between the two of us." Tyler wiggles his fingers in Josh's hand. "We've got matching scars."

"That's a lot more permanent than matching tattoos."

"Josh!" Halsey bursts through the door with an armful of sweets and drinks, crying dramatically.

Hayley is behind her, holding a half-full bottle of vodka. "'Sup, fucker."

"What's up?" Josh grins.

"Your underage friend over here couldn't buy liquor, so all we have is a lot of Arizona iced tea and gummy bears," she says.

On cue, Halsey dumps everything in her arms between Josh's legs, one bag of candy accidentally hitting his leg wound. Josh hisses and kicks, sending half of the snack to the floor.

"Crap, I'm so sorry!" Halsey scrambles to pick them up while Hayley laughs.

"It's okay, Hals, really," Josh snickers, leaning on Tyler. "You're the only reason I didn't get shurikened to death."

"Technically they weren't shurikens, they're actually-"

"Alright, that's enough geekipedia," Hayley interrupts her.

Halsey blushes and looks up at her with an abundance of heart eyes. Josh knows the look. Max must notice because rolls his eyes. "Please don't tell me I'm the only straight person in the band."

"I'm straight," Young Ryan, who's sitting on the floor, offers.

"No, you're not, you have a crush on The Rock."

"Who doesn't have a crush on The Rock?"

Josh stays in the hospital overnight so the doctors can make sure the wounds are healing properly and hat he doesn't die of blood loss. He's released the next morning and is bed ridden for nearly three days, which isn't much, but for him is excruciating.

He had to take off work to give himself time to completely heal. Lucky for Josh, the blade were deadly sharp; if they hadn't been, Jenna would've left nastier scars than she already did. Slick, straight scars covers the back of his thigh and his abdomen, like he'd gotten into a fight with a shark.

The scar of his shoulder is the worst, though. The doctor said that even if Halsey hadn't pulled the knife out, he would've ended up just as bad. Josh hasn't seen the scar himself, but Tyler says it's ugly, and he trusts his judgment. Even two months after the battle with Jenna, it still hurts when he moves his left arm too suddenly or too roughly. At least he can still hold his bass, if he had one to hold.

Tyler's injuries are superficial but with their own little downsides. He can't pick small things up, forks, brushes, stuff like that, without his hands shaking, so Josh does most of the light lifting. Since Tyler's stubborn as hell, there's only so much Josh can insist on helping with.

"I told you, I can brush my teeth by myself," Tyler scolds him one night in the bathroom while getting ready for bed.

"I know, ya big baby, I just want to help," Josh retorts, rummaging through the sink drawer. "Babe, I love you, but I swear to god if you moved my shampoo, I'm going to fight you to the death."

Tyler grins with his toothbrush in his mouth. "No idea what you're talking about," he says, his words muffled by toothpaste.

"Dude."

He leans down to spit in the sink and grabs the bottle of shampoo from just under the counter where Josh couldn't see it, tossing it in the air. "Gotcha."

Josh catches the bottle. "Watch your back, Joseph, or else a prank war might commence."

"Ooh, I like it when you're angry."

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