Dislocated

The previous nightmare filled months that plagued their tiny group seemed to have no equal when it came to Josh's nightmares. Rather than the quiet trembling of Ashley, the hard punches Mike would land in his sleep; instead of cries and insomnia, it was thrashing, it was garbled screams. It was Josh freezing up in his sleep, mouth twisted around inhumane whines.

Having Josh in his apartment is different. It's him waking up to blistering heat in his sides because Josh is glued to him. It's having to hold him close with each violent tremble that racks through Josh's body. It's having bite marks in his shoulder so deep they draw blood and Josh crying because he didn't mean to and Chris can see the fine lines of exhaustion in the others face. Chris understands. He does. So if he holds Josh a bit tighter when they finally manage to go back to sleep, Josh doesn't say anything.

Josh in his apartment is strange. It's weird and completely throws him off. Chris is used to waking up last, pans clanking together in the kitchen. He's used to Ashley standing in her underwear and dancing badly to the Yeah Yeahs in the living room as the bacon burns. Instead the apartment is quiet and Josh is curled into his side, breathing deeply.

Chris sits up slowly, glasses crooked on his face and yawns. Josh stirs beside him then rolls over, taking the blanket with him. He murmurs sleepily before a soft snore floats up through the pile. The temptation to go back to sleep rests heavy in Chris' mind until he checks his phone. There are two messages on the screen, one from Ashley, the other from Mike.

It's barely 10:30, close to Josh's first dosage. So Chris slides out of bed and pulling on an abandoned sweater over his other two layers. He tidies up the room a bit, adjusting his glasses and tossing random articles of clothing into the basket in the corner. Josh is still asleep when he slips out of the room.

He opens the message from Mike first.

From: Mike Wazowski
Hey bro.
Haven't talked n a while
Hw r ya?

From: Christopher Robin
Pretty good, man.
You? Em says you guys have dogs

Chris pries the fridge open, assessing the contents. There is an opened bottle of woodchuck, a cartoon of eggs and a bag of spinach. Chris closes the door.

From: Mike Wazowski
They hate me.

(...)

From: Mike Wazowski
Heard they found Josh?

From: Christopher Robin
Yep. He's with me now.
Snoring like a log.

Mike doesn't respond.

Chris sets his phone in the docking station on the kitchen table, closing the bedroom door behind him. He turns the volume down low, shuffling all the songs he has by the Pixies. The steady strum of a guitar floats through the speakers.

Chris knows that Josh has to eat with his medication so he sets about making breakfast. Upon opening his fridge again Chris realizes he has nothing Josh can eat. Realistically he has nothing normal people eat either. He doesn't know how Ashley managed to survive the couple of weeks she would stay.

Chris groans, pulling his phone out of the dock. He sees another message from Ashley. A knock at the door follows shortly after. Chris eyes the closed bedroom door before making his way to the front door. He doesn't bother looking through the peep hole immediately opening the door when he reaches it.

Ashley is standing in his doorway in a dark blue dress that stops at her knees. She's in the long sweater cardigan Chris bought her a few months ago. Her hair is a few shades darker than he's ever seen it, more red.

"Hey." Ashley says, giving him a small smile.

"Hey." Chris replies.

They stand there awkwardly, in Chris' doorway, unable to meet each other's gaze. Ashley's face says she doesn't know why she came.

"Want to go grocery shopping with me?" Chris reaches for his jacket, ignoring the fact that he's still in basketball shorts. He tugs on a pair of black vans he realizes are Josh's and swipes his wallet and keys from the small basket on the corner table.

"Um, okay. Sure." Ashley nods.

Chris locks his apartment door, shooting Josh a quick text before walking to where his car is parked. Ashley rounds to the passenger seat, entering with a practiced ease. She adjusts the seat when Chris climbs in, starting the car.

"How have you been?" Ashley inquires, voice polite.

"I've been okay." He doesn't say good like he wants to. "You?"

"Okay." She says. "Why are you going grocery shopping?"

Chris weighs his options. Ashley hasn't brought up their last conversation or Josh but he doesn't know if telling her he truth would be too upsetting.

"Why did you drop by?" Chris asks instead, glancing at her.

She's pulling at the sleeves of her cardigan, eyes downcast. Dark red strands fall into her face. "To go grocery shopping."

"Ready to watch me shop for all the vegetables." Chris jokes.

Ashley shakes her head, chuckling softly. "You never buy groceries, Chris."

"I do now, son. Gotta up the greens." Chris pumps the horn. It honks weakly.

Ashley is laughing, louder this time and it's so bright it makes Chris' heart ache. She tucks a lock of hair behind her, looking at him with her amused smile.

"Okay, Chris. Let's get groceries."

Chris sees the grocery store coming up, careful to watch for the teenagers jaywalking. He parks near the front beside a black minivan with the doors open. A mother is tickling her child in the backseat. His squeals bounce off of Chris' window.

"Kids kinda loud." Ashley giggles.

Chris brushes the edge of his nose. "Knows a cool guy when he sees one."

"Yeah cause you're so cool." Ashley smirks, climbing out the car.

Chris follows after her, mimicking what she said. He winks at the kid, striding up behind Ashley who's walking quickly inside.

"Do you have a list?" Ashley asks, taking a cart from the slot. She sets her bag in the carrier, eying Chris expectantly.

Chris pulls out his phone, noticing there are no missed calls or texts. He googles 'staples of a vegan kitchen'. It provides enough results that have his brain churning. He texts Sam.

It's 11.

"Okay, Sam says Jo- She says tofu is good for scrambled eggs."

Ashley perks up at the mention of Sam's name but she's frowning. "Scrambled eggs?"

But Chris is hurrying inside, dragging the front of the car with him as he sets a timer. Ashley hurries along side him, nodding at different vegetables he's ranting off.

By the time Chris is done analyzing Sam's list from hell, Ashley has already filled half the cart with a variety of vegetables he doesn't recognize.

"What is this?" Chris pokes an oddly shaped purple vegetable. Ashley smacks his hand with a bag of carrots she's holding.

"An eggplant."

"A who? Okay never mind I have fifteen minutes. We need tofu."

Ashley points to three square containers with colorful designs.

"Tofurky bacon?"

Ashley holds up a package of weird shaped bacon. "This is a better brand."

"Strawberries-" Ashley points to the container next to her bag, "apples-", Ashley lifts a bag that says HoneyCrisp in bold, "avocados? Bananas? Enough to freeze? I don't have a blender. Why are there so many bananas?!"

There are four bundles of five bananas. Ashley leans against the cart, watching Chris go through the list. A faint smile plays on her lips.

"This is for Josh isn't it?"

Chris looks up. Her gaze is sad, a bitter acceptance sitting at the edges. Ashley straightens, combing her hair over one shoulder. She begins checking her ends for splits, pulling the ones she finds apart. Chris grabs her hand.

"I was thinking we'd stay together. That this," Ashley scoffs. "This thing would just breeze over and it'd become a blip in our relationship. Three years later it'd still be a blip but a funny one we could laugh at."

She smiles sadly. "It's not going to be a blip is it?"

Chris releases her hand, pulling her into a tight hug. She buries her face in his chest, fingers digging into his shirt. Her shoulders give a small bounce before they still, ting tremors breaking through every so often. Chris holds her close, lingering in the smell of her shampoo and cherries. He wishes this was easier. But it'd only be that way if they all didn't make it out of the mines.

"I'm sorry, Ash. I am." He whispers, kissing the side of her head. She's nodding against him, breath hitching and she holds onto him, mouthing each quiet sob into his shirt. People are staring, from the line at the deli and passerbys but they avert their eyes when Chris meets their gaze, ever polite.

Ashley stays pressed against him two beats longer before moving away, cheeks red and blotchy but she's giving him a smile and two thumbs up. "Josh better take care of you."

"Think you can take him?"

"He's never seen a white girl during pumpkin season." Ashley jokes, teary eyed and sniffling.

Chris hands her a crumpled napkin from his jacket pocket after checking it for nastiness. Ashley blows her nose.

"And you better take care of him, Chrispher."

Chris holds up his hands. "Yes ma'am."

The rest of their grocery adventure goes smoothly with Chris occasionally making jokes that make her cringe but she doesn't cry anymore for now. It feels like it could work, the friendship between them after its done healing.

"I'd say I'd help you but Sam told me you had a visitor so I won't." Ashley pats the hood of his car.

"You and Sam talk to much. You're gossips." Chris assesses the six bags in his trunk then turns to his apartment door. He can probably make it in one trip.

"Birds of a feather." Ashley sings, twirling her car keys on her finger.

"Shut up. Doesn't Sam have a yoga class to invite you to? Maybe a little child's pose practice?"

Ashley's face turns scarlet. "Shut up, Chris! I'm leaving. Bye."

And it shouldn't feel this easy. To end their relationship, to be able to joke so readily and easily but Chris figures he picked one hell of an ex girlfriend to have and Josh was right, she's too nice for her own good.

"It was a joke!" But Ashley is flicking him off from her beetle, face still very red. She leaves him to his groceries, sticking a tongue out at him when she drives by. Chris reminds himself to send her a set of Pepe the frog memes.

It's 11:47 by the time Chris has everything put away, 11:50 by the time he pokes his head in on Josh, who sleeps on undisturbed and buried in blankets. Chris sets aside a glass of water on the bed stand, propping open the pill section labeled '12' and then sets to waking Josh up at 11:58, flicking the tip of his nose. Josh waves him off.

Chris slides his hands underneath the blanket, finding the opening where Josh's bare stomach is, the other's shirt bunched up. Chris grins widely preparing to tickle his sleeping guest before he feels it. It's a leathery patch of skin, an immediate difference between the rest of Josh's body. Puckered wounds surround the area around his belly button, tiny enough that he almost missed them. Chris wants to look, wants to see but he remembers Josh's face the night before, full of fear and disgust and self hate.

Chris settles for more flicking until Josh's alarm goes off. Josh whines in the back of his throat, a hand coming out of the blankets to push at Chris' face.

"Can't be waking me up like this. Isn't healthy." Josh mumbles, one eye squinting open.

"I made you food. Even have a big glass of water."

Josh sits up slowly, hair pointing in various directions. He checks his phone, undisturbed by the mass of covers draped over him.

"What kind of food?"

"Organic bird feed. Fresh from the farm." Chris hands him the three pills from the case along with a glass of water.

Josh groans, popping them into his mouth.

"You sound like Sam." He says, gulping down the large glass. "Don't look like Sam though. Not pretty enough."

Chris punches his shoulder. "Come eat, dick."

Josh trails after him, holding the covers over his shoulders like a cape. He slides into an empty chair, perking up at the sight of Chris' iPod radio. Josh plugs his phone up as Chris sets a plate in front of him. The Cure plays through the speakers.

"You actually made food." Josh says surprise evident in his voice.

Chris cooks, sometimes, occasionally, mostly for Ashley if she's over but he usually orders take out. Today Chris cooked. He cooked faux bacon and made tofu scramble with peppers and spinach. He even topped that shit with avocado slices. And if he snapped a pick for Sam that's Chris' own business.

Chris watches Josh eat, head resting on his arms. He wipes Josh's mouth with a napkin when the other smears grease on it. Josh gives him a funny look.

"You tryna court me, Cochise?"

"I don't know. 's working?"

Josh leans against the kitchen table, a piece of not-bacon in his fingers. He bumps his head against Chris' arm, soft chittering low in his throat. "Maybe."

Chris snorts around a smile, checking his phone again.

From: Mike Wazowski
Is he mad?
That.. We left?

From: Christopher Robin
He doesn't remember
He doesn't remember anything.

Chris studies Josh, watching the way he swallows down his food like its the last thing he'll eat. Josh notices his stare, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"You're being a freak, bro. We should order pizza later. Have a sleep over."

"Yeah man, whatever you want."

Chris would do anything to keep him smiling.