24. 24 – Alyss
24 – Alyss
M y eyes fly open.
Hatter’s arms are banded around me, his chest rising and falling against my back.
But something feels off .
The noise – it sounds like a moan. Guttural, stuttering.
I shove myself off the bed, twisting to look.
Buck—
His whole body is convulsing. I drop down to my knees beside him, my hands shaking as I hover them over his body. His mouth is making the noises, his eyes closed as he jerks in uncontrollable movements.
“Help.” My voice raises in panic. “ Help me !”
Hands on my shoulders, moving me out of the way. Hatter leans over him. “I’ve seen him have these before.”
“What do we do?”
“Fuck.” Chess’s face is white as he appears across from me. “He wasn’t well. He was shaking, sweating—,”
“Withdrawal,” Hatter says shortly. He pulls the pillow out from under Buck’s neck. “Help me get him onto the floor.”
Together, Chess and Hatter slide their hands under Buck, lifting as I move out of the way. They settle him down, Hatter sliding the pillow beneath his head. “Count for him, Alyss. How long has it been? Did you hear the start?”
My heart thunders as I stare at his pale, twitching face. “No – I don’t think so. He was making noises.”
“Okay,” Hatter says quietly. “They’re not going to get him any help. So we’ll time it. It’s been around two minutes. Hopefully he stops before he gets to five.”
“What if he doesn’t stop?” Chess asks the question.
Hatter stares down at Buck. “It…it might mean they’re not going to stop. That can happen sometimes. It’s not a good sign.”
My throat closes up. Silently, I sit beside him.
And I count.
The seconds tick away.
Three minutes.
Four.
“It’s slowing,” Chess murmurs. “What now?”
“Wait for it to stop completely.” We watch as Buck’s shaking limbs start to subside. His movement becomes a little weaker, a little less stiff. More of a tremble. “Help me get him into the recovery position.”
I don’t move. I sit there, frozen, as they roll him. Still counting. Chess looks up. “Lyss.”
I can’t move.
The room in front of me shifts.
Buck’s body shifts, morphs.
Until I’m not in the room anymore. I’m somewhere else instead.
And no matter how much I try to pull myself away from it, to claw my way back from those memories… they don’t let me go.
They drag me under.