Dislocated

He imagines somewhere on a distant horizon Hannah waits for him. Her body bathed in the setting sun, hair the color of the deepest part of space. He imagines in that same somewhere, Beth stares down at them, watching as Hannah and Josh become consumed by the same monster.

His first night awake is hell. He's starving but the doctors refuse to let him eat. The IV drip isn't near enough. It keeps his veins dry, insides screaming it's not the right thing. Josh doesn't know what any of it means but when he bites off a nurses fingers, his body preens and he knows something is wrong.

The doctors keep him restrained at that point, upping his medicine until he's pliant. Josh tries to be good, tries so hard but he's so damn hungry. Sometimes he'll see Hannah or Beth but never together anymore. It's wrong and awful and he can't sleep until they're sticking needles deep in his veins.

He wants to go home, to see Sam or Chris or anyone but he can't.

"You hurt a lot of people, Josh." His doctor tells him, the pin on her coat reads 'Cooper'.

She taps on her pen on the clipboard she's holding, eyes soft and patient behind her narrow glasses. Josh doesn't look at her, he just stares at the wall across from, tired and unfeeling. He can't remember anything, only impressions of feelings he doesn't understand. Someone left him, someone left him cold and dying and Josh thinks he died. But he's here now and so, so hungry.

"Where's my mom?"

"Mrs. Washington won't be able to see you until we are sure you won't hurt anyone else."

"I'm not hurting you." Josh supplies, unable to recognize his own voice. He tries to click his tongue, sharp teeth dragging along the rough skin and he tastes blood. Josh's throat feels sick, throat coating in a coppery taste and his insides rumble because it's so close to what he needs. Josh tries to move his arms, the soft cuffs around his wrists respond immediately.

Josh looks at Dr. Cooper reading the alarm on her face as she reaches for him. He can see the blood in her face and he wants it, he wants, wants, wants it so bad. Josh hardly registers the spike in his heart rate or the nurses flood into the room. Behind them he sees Hannah, body broken and grey. Her mouth covered in blood and gore and she's crying.

"You have to listen to the doctors, Josh."

They're turning him over on his side and Hannah disappears from his vision. Bile burns in his throat, stomach lurching painfully, that needy feeling gone, and he's vomiting into a bin. There's a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles into his back.

They wipe his mouth before hands coax it open. He allows it, eyes searching for Hannah in the bright room.

"You'll need stitches." Dr. Cooper's voice rings through his head, "but your body is rejecting the blood. That's a good sign. You're doing so good, Josh."

Josh doesn't understand what she's saying and he's so tired but he needs to know. Needs to know why his body doesn't feel right, why the blood in her skin sang to him and why it's all he thinks about. Josh is vomiting again, bent over the side of his bed.

"We'll up the IV dosage."

He wakes up alone, the room quiet, barely illuminated by a dim light in the corner. Josh notices someone sitting beside his bed, cast in deep shadows. They move slowly, reaching out to take his hand when Josh sits up.

"You're progressing."

It's Beth, her hand cold against his. He can't see her face but he can smell her, daffodils and spring and like home. His body aches, trying to speak but his jaw refuses to work. Everything hurts. Beth squeezes his hand.

"You did so good. For us. But it's time to get better." Beth says, "you're all mom and dad have left. We're gone, Josh."

Josh chokes back a sob, struggling against the restraints and he wants to tell her to wait, to hand on and just listen to him. Beth shushes him.

"Josh. You'll never see us again. But you have to get better."

Her grip is tight around his hand, squeezing until the small bones shift painfully.

"No." Josh croaks, eyes frantically searching for her face. He can only see her hand, pale and cold and the rest is a blackness he can't touch. The sparkle of her smile flashes before his eyes and her hand is gone.

"You did good by us, Joshy. So, so good."

And she's gone. He wants to scream, wants to grab hold of her and hold on tight. His mouth tastes like ash, his insides burn. But Beth is gone and he's alone in his hospital room. Josh wheezes, heart hammering in his chest and he's fighting the restraints. There's a ringing in his ears, sharp and loud and he just wants her back. The machines around him beep rapidly, the sounds of doors slamming open. He has one hand out of the cuffs by the time the nurses arrive. He's almost free, fingers slipping, coated a thick red but they're on him, crowding him back to bed and he's screaming.

The glimmer of a needle shines in the corner of his eyes and Hannah is standing in the corner.

"Listen to Beth, Josh. Listen to the doctor."

She presses a finger to her lips, skin rotting and grey.

"Hannah!" Josh reaches for her. "Hannah, please! Don't leave!"

The nurses are relentless in holding him down, pressing the needle deep into his skin. The room fades gray, suspended in space and there are stars. Hannah isn't there. Josh slides along nothingness, drifting along empty insides that feel warm and moist.

When he wakes again, the sun shines through an open window and the restraints are gone. Josh stares at his lap, hands resting on the tops of his thighs covered in red, angry scars and teeth marks. He clenches and unclenches his fist. Josh takes the room in, decorated plainly with dark blue. He notices his dad sitting in a chair beside the bed, eyes closed and his chest rises and falls with a deep snore.

As if sensing Josh's stare, Bob startles awake, knees bumping against the side of the bed. His eyes are wide and frowning and he's never seemed so worn as if someone took his skin and stretched it too far. Bob eyes land on Josh, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"Hey kiddo. How are you feeling?"

Josh swallows, giving a small shrug. Bob takes his hand, rough palms sliding against his skin. Josh appreciates the gesture, sighing heavily.

"The doctors said you've improved significantly. It's been three months since the last episode. They said the exorcism coupled with treatments helped significantly."

Josh frowns confused. "What? I had an episode last night."

Bob shakes his head. "You might have some memory loss, you've been lucid for five months but we tried everything the first month. We had some help the second. It'll come back to you."

Josh wasn't sure he wanted it to come back. He was possessed? He had an exorcism? He stares at the wall, mind processing the white spaces of his mind. Josh finds nothing besides waking up in a pool of vomit and waking up again in a hospital bed restrained.

"I can't see them anymore?"

Bob squeezes his hand. "Hannah and Beth? The medication helps with that."

Josh wants to argue but he doesn't want the answer he knows is there. "They're gone?"

"I'm sorry, Josh." Bob's voice cracks.

Josh places a hand over his mouth, lips trembling and his eyes squeeze shut. Small tremors grind against his spine until they settle along his gut. A small sob escapes his throat, hot tears slipping down his cheeks. Bob stands, pulling Josh into his arms. He smoothes a hand over his son's hair, whispering over and over how sorry he is as Josh sobs into his chest.

The hospital discharges him the following week after various test involving blood and animals and volunteer patients. Josh isn't sure what they want but him staring blankly at a pair of rabbits for an hour while sitting in a chair doing nothing seems to be just what they wanted. He asks to see the police reports on he drive home. Bob allows it, Malia chatting excitedly from the passenger seat.

Josh tunes her out, flipping through the reports. He reads interviews from Mike and Jess and everyone up on Mt. Washington. It's a long story that all ends with Josh realizing he had a psychotic break and tried to kill his friends. He cries quietly when he reads Sam's report then Chris'. Josh reads them over and over until the words burn into his mind. He killed someone. He almost killed Jessica. He almost killed all of them.

His room is the same, bed neat, windows open wide and he hates it. Everything is the same and pristine and Josh finds the plans to his elaborate revenge prank. He burns them on the patio to his room before ripping the sheets off his beds and punching his mirror. Josh keeps the windows closed, the sun burning his eyes and he cries a lot the first couple of days.

He showers in the dark at first unable to look at his protruding ribs and the scars that wrap around his chest like age old wounds. The nasty ones around his belly are self inflicted. They said when they found him in the mines and brought him to the hospital, he had tried to eat his own insides. They kept him drugged with a muzzle for three weeks. The scars match the ones on his face.

Josh doesn't leave his room, except for his medications because it's what his sisters wanted. Eating makes him sick. The taste of meat is sour and too familiar to whatever his brain keeps blocking out. He throws up everything until he refuses to eat at all. Malia tries salads then smoothies until Josh manages to eat large bowls of fruit. She keeps supplying heaps upon heaps of vegetables and Josh actually starts to try.

His parents offer to fix his facial scars completely as his father knew a great plastic surgeon but Josh declined, guilt bubbling through his mind at all the money the Washington's had already spent on him. He settles on stitching up the long scar that stops under his eye while patching the rest. Josh doesn't mind the discoloration because he looks more human now.

Josh still hates himself.

Malia comes into his room a lot, curling around him when she finds him under his bed, crying. Josh welcomes her warmth whenever she joins him.

"We love you. Your sisters love you." Malia whispers. "Whenever you're ready, we will be here."

Josh being ready is a month later when he's developed a routine. He helps his dad by editing scripts and studying old movies while keeping old notebooks for writing of his own. Josh being ready feels a lot like acceptance and goodbye

And it's when he's ready that Malia makes the first call to Chris. He listens from the stairwell as she paces in her study from upstairs, voice light and hopeful. Josh hates it, hates how hopeful it makes him. But Chris comes and stays and so does Sam.

It feels like fresh air.