#hidehillplotdrop008

Josiah had gone back inside, feeling a little more level headed. In all, he'd say tonight was a success. The anxiety felt more like it came from the throng of people, not that small part of him that he knew would never quite rewire the same way again. That was something they'd talked about a lot back in rehab. This wasn't a choice he made, it was how his brain worked now. Recovery meant working every day to be the person he wanted to be. The son whose parents didn't worry about leaving alone, the brother that could be there, the uncle that could love that little girl like she was his own. Maybe...maybe the partner someone would want. Someday. That thought was more complicated. Him and Jamie were complicated. Always had been. Jamie was all in, from day one. Threw himself wholeheartedly at a boy who wasn't in the shape to treat anyone gently. And he'd come back to a man still trying to atone. He knew what Jamie wanted. He just...wasn't sure it was what the two of them needed.

That's the thought he's mulling over, absently stirring a Diet Coke, when the lights cut out. The reaction is instant. Total panic. He has to admit, he's spooked too. It's essentially pitch black in here, and with everyone running around, he can't just stay here unless he wants to get trampled. Can't stay. He needs to find...Jamie, Nell, Jesse, Danny, someone. He had to make sure they're okay. The foreboding sense he'd had all night, which up til now he'd chalked up to an unease at the way Jamie was acting, had reared up, and the longer he couldn't find anyone, the worse it got. "Jamie? Jamie!" He's trying to push past people, trying to see if he can make out the taller man in the crowd. "Jesse? Danny? Nell?" He's looking around, trying to find someone. He doesn't know what's happening, and he can't just worry about himself. It's not how he is.

Someone grabs him, and for a second, he thinks it might be one of them, and he doesn't even really care which one it is. Before he can fully turn to try to see them, there's a searing pain in his side. He screams, in surprise, in pain, in shock. He feels like he's moving in slow motion, but whoever's on him now decidedly isn't, and more pain shoots through him as they keep stabbing. He doesn't know how many. Could have been four, could have been forty. He doesn't know. Adrenaline's the only thing keeping him upright, and he tries to run once his head stops swimming, finding his limbs almost too heavy to move. The fabric of his shirt feels hot, sticky, and a feeling of revulsion washes over him when he tastes copper. He doesn't need the lights on to know it's blood. He can feel it seeping through his shirt, running down to his jeans, dripping onto the floor.

He's not actually aware of how far he's managed to get, the pain and the blood loss making him collapse. He just...lays there. He needs to get up. He needs to keep going. He can't lay here and die. He can't.

The house party had been his wake up call. It was some out of town thing, with people he barely knew. But their stuff was always good, so when they'd asked of course he'd said yes. He lost track of how much he was taking, downing a drink when it was handed to him and definitely not turning down the guy who'd been eye fucking him all night when he handed him a couple pills. He's not a lightweight. He'd be fine.

He woke up connected to machines, his mom and dad not even looking at him. When he tried to talk, his throat felt dry, pained. They had looked at him in something between alarm and relief, their eyes red. He didn't know what had happened. The last he remembered, a guy in bright blue eyeliner had flopped onto the couch he was on, putting his head in Josiah's lap. How--

He'd overdosed. On what they couldn't tell him until he remembered what he took or toxicology came back. His heart had stopped. He'd been dead. He felt like a cliche, coming home and realizing only now that this had gone too far, gotten too bad for him to just fix it himself. He had to...He didn't know yet, but he had to do something.

He has a similar thought now, even as his vision goes spotty. He has to do something. He's so close to one year. Three weeks. Twenty-four days, really, but close enough. Twenty-four days, and he's hit his goal. He's so close. Three hundred forty-one days down. Twenty-four to go. Twenty-four. He's so tired. He's cold. Someone's in front of him, and he flinches. Tries to tell them to leave him alone, don't hurt him. Help him. He needs help. He needs his mom.

Returning from the alley, Brody was riding the wave of his drug-induced high; blissfully light again as he made a beeline to the bar for another beer. He'd already been refused but maybe if he turned on the charm just a little more he would be awarded with one this time, surely. He'd made it halfway across the room when the darkness enveloped him. Ironically his first thought was that he was passing out. Had he taken too much outside? He'd felt fine...A mild panic rose in his chest as the thought encompassed him. Was he dying? It took his brain a few scrambled seconds to register that he was still conscious, and the noise around him had only increased. It took him an additional several moments to realise what had even happened. The power had been killed. What the hell? Holding his hands out in front of him, Brody advanced slowly towards the direction he thought he remembered the back rooms to be, knocking into several people as he fumbled around in the darkness. A small beam of light caught his attention; eyes drawn to it immediately. A phone light. Use your phone, dumbass. Retrieving his cell from the depths of his trouser pockets, he pressed the torch button and squinted; trying to focus his blurred vision on the darkened room before him. His eyes settled on what looked to be a door with NO ENTRY plastered across it in bold letters and he headed towards it, pushing past several people and mumbling a few 'sorrys' as he did. After what felt like an eternity of wading through confused bodies, Brody reached the door, finding it was already ajar. He assumed some staff member had beaten him to the punch and gone to assess the light situation but decided to step through anyway, his inebriated curiousness getting the better of him.

He had barely set a foot into the hallways that led to the staff rooms when he heard the first scream. His head whipped around without thought, his phone light pointing back out towards the bar. "What the fuck?" He breathed to himself. Trying to get his eyes to adjust on anything. Too many bodies were now scrambling and panicked to make out what had even happened and before he could take another step, he felt a sharp jab hit him in the side. "Ah fuck!" Brody cried out, reactively dropping his phone and enveloping himself in darkness as the floor concealed his torch light. He doubled over and his hand moved instinctively to the source, his heart skipping when he felt a wetness at the site of the throbbing. No way. Had he really just been stabbed? His eyes searched desperately in the darkness for the culprit but they were already gone; he couldn't even be sure which way they went, or where they had even come from. Quickly giving up on the idea of finding his attacker, he felt around on the floor for his phone instead, eventually grasping it and illuminating his side; swallowing hard when he saw the wound. The concoction of alcohol, drugs and now adrenaline running through his system blocked out the pain he knew he should be feeling as he clutched at it; and he knew it would only get worse if he didn't move now. Pushing back on the door he'd come through, he spotted the exit immediately as everyone was bottle-necking towards it, desperate to flee their assailants. He joined them, stumbling as fast as he could towards the door. He didn't pay attention to anyone around him, anyone on the floor as he set his focus on his own escape. What help would he be right now anyway? He could barely stand before he'd even been stabbed and was using all of the consciousness he still had to just get. to. the. door. Another scream to his right propelled him further forward. Fucking hell man get out of here, he willed himself, pushing on whoever he needed to until he was finally met with the sharp cold of the night air outside Envy.

Vik had promised her the stars. Thats all Nell could think about as she sat in the corner of the room, nursing the glass of ice water in her hands. She had been keeping her focus on the solid that dissipated into liquid as time went by. They would make their rounds, they would leave, she wound get to see the stars. The pattern allows her to drown out the voices around her, drown out the reminder of what this place used to be for her. An escape from the problems that festered beneath her skin. An escape that had soon consumed her before it was too late. Sooner or later, she found herself actually having some amount of fun. When Vik wasn't at her side she had engaged in a lovely conversation with Kit -- no wonder Ajay loved him. After the frequent visits to Gage in the hospital, the two of them needed to remember what it felt like to be alive again.

The thought felt selfish to Nell, the moment it crossed her mind. For there were so many people who should be here, with the people that loved them the most. It is this thought too that keeps the woman grounded, that is, until the world around her flickers and she is surrounded by blackness.

Run. It's the one thing she thinks to do. Thank god Vik is not far away, her hand wrapping around Vik's wrist as she makes a dash for the nearest exit. "We need to go!" She calls out to him. "We need to go now." It seems that he wordlessly agrees, eyes tracing over the faces in the club as she tries to find the ones she loves. She spots Max next to Adriana about to pass the threshold that separates the club from the safety of the outside, at least she hopes so. Eyes fall on Kit, Ajay.. the other girls from Mel's and the club. But there remains one person unaccounted for. Josiah.

"Jo?!" She calls out, her voice managing to echo in the throng of desperate faces. She needs him to be okay. Nell doesn't know what she'll do if he isn't.

Nell's childhood had been nothing like a normal childhood should be. It was filled with packing lunches, walking her siblings to the bus stop, paying the bills, rarely thinking of herself. Falling into a pattern like that is normal for a little girl -- believing in her heart of hearts that no one else would understand. Being alone would be her constant state of being. That is, until she met Josiah Sterling. He reminded her of bare feet connecting with the grass as they ran through the sunshine, faint whispers of encouragement to talk to her crush when they were nearby... it wasn't hard for her to face that Josiah Sterling taught her how to be a kid, when everyone else had expected her to grow up just a little too fast.

Coming back from rehab, the light that had once surrounded her had extinguished. She felt like a failure, having lost her grip on her control before she could stop it. Her first AA meeting had begun with her hood up, hoping to be unrecognizable even if she had never seen any of these faces before. Maybe she had on the street, sitting at a table in the diner. That is, until she locked eyes with a face she couldn't possibly forget. While initially silent, it seemed that their eyes spoke the same words that they had never thought they would say.

You too?

Vik and Nell manage to make it outside -- but still with no sign of Josiah. She had to go back in there. The woman didn't care what damage it did to her, not if it meant seeing his face again. "Vik -- I can't leave him in there..." Her voice cracks as she tries to pull away from the man she loves with no avail. It's then she realizes he doesn't know who she's referencing, who she'd be willing to put herself on the line for. "I can't leave Josiah in there!" She can't. She can't.

It is in that moment that police cars and ambulances descend on the scene, the air from Nell's lungs releasing into the broken evening without even thinking. She thought she had forgotten how to breathe. It appeared that everyone else was accounted for, some familiar faces being wheeled away on stretchers. Mateo was being checked out by a paramedic, something in Nell easing when she realizes he is still breathing. There are some other faces she acknowledges -- still no Josiah.

That is, until she sees a body bag being wheeled out of the club. This causes her blood to run cold. It can't be who she thinks it is, but the seconds that pass by -- it becomes more and more real.

"No.." She says at first, her voice cracking. She wants to look away, but she can't. When the doors of the coroner's van finally shut, that's when her screaming becomes more and more frenzied. "Josiah?!" She calls out, finally breaking free from Vik's grasp as her call becomes more and more like a whimper with every word. "Josiah?!"

She can hear Vik calling out from behind her. To come back.

The sight of Danny covered in blood causes her worst fear to come true. He's gone. He's really gone. Someone took her family away from her. How cruel could the universe really be, or the people that had decided to dawn the mask of The Shadow and play god? It's as if she looses all bodily control as she feels her knees make contact with the gravel of the road, inches away from where the sea of help begins. She doesn't acknowledge what's happening between her sobs as her vision becomes blurry. When she feels a pair of strong arms wrap around her, she can only assume it's Viktor. Regardless, her head is in her hands as her cries become harder to ignore.

I'll do it for you, Jo. I'll stay on the right path, I'll keep my shit together. Everything I do, it will be for you.

Gael had never even wanted to attend this thing in the first place. He didn’t know who he was to police someone’s grief, tell someone how they were meant to mourn those that they had lost. The room felt like a haze, faces blurring into a fog as he sat at the bar, eyes fixated on a specific tile on the wall. He shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t what Miyeon wanted. There was a threat still out there, a threat that had managed to escape the custody of the police. Something in him knew that the threat was still alive and well and yet, he put on his suit – made sure that not a single wrinkle could be seen. With that, he knowingly took Julian’s hand and entered the club, hoping to make minimal conversation and splurge on a couple glasses of liquor. Waiting for the night to be over. 

Julian seemed to be the night’s saving grace. He had always been his saving grace. Julian appeared to be well aware that Gael would rather be at home in his arms than here, making sure that he felt comfortable. Now, as Gael watched him socialize he could only come to terms with one thing and one thing only. God, I’m so in love with him. He had not been able to open himself up to such a feeling since Miyeon, despite their amicable ending, not for a lack of trying. For so long he had wondered if he truly deserved it. He had closed the door on the man he was in the past a long time ago, but the fear of it's reemergence came to the surface with every new day that dawned – every moment where his eyes caught Julian's peaceful slumber. Ella saw something good in him, so did he. Perhaps that meant something. Perhaps there was a future for him yet.

I love you. The words threaten to breach his lips as Julian is in his range of eyesight, deep in conversation with Mateo. I'm falling at the speed of sound, and I don't ever want to stop.

The rest of the night seemed to go as he expected: average. Except for the short conversation he had with Jordan, something that stuck out in his mind. He wasn't the man who spoke with his fists anymore. Even if what he said to Heather was never okay, there was a reason why people conversed with words. Considering what Hidehill had endured over the past couple months, violence was never the answer. Walking away from the bar, he did so with a smile. Very rarely did the man feel a sense of peace, but it seemed that their shaking hands had closed one chapter in favor of opening another.

He had been looking for Julian when the power went out. The chorus of screams is all too familiar, his heart rate becoming quicker as the seconds pass by. Seconds feel like hours. It feels like he can never run fast enough, doing exactly the opposite of what those he love might tell him to do. He runs towards the fray. He's not going to make the same mistake that he did at the fair. If he can get those he loves out of here without injury – his life would be worth the sacrifice.

That's when his eyes lock with Julian's his gaze widening when he realizes the figure lurking behind him. In the darkness that his eyes have now adjusted to, the figure truly does look like a shadow. "Julian!" He calls out, his scream fighting to break through the ones around him. Gael doesn't even have to think about what he does next, the sound of his dress shoes making quick contact before he shoves Julian out of the way. Out of the shadows reach. However, it is a second later when he realizes that his reaction time was not quick enough. There is a knife in his stomach. He feels his body become more and more used to the feeling as each impact comes.

"Go!" He calls out, not aware that the best Julian can do is read his lips. "Run!"

Then come the words he's been fighting all night. I love you.

He feels like he's drowning as his body sinks to the floor, the shadow disappearing into the darkness, seemingly satisfied with the work they have done. The pain they have caused.

As his world fades to black, he fights to stay awake. Fights to see if the man he loves made it out alive. Mateo. Scarlet. Jordan. The names take residence in his mind as his hands press to the cool tile of the floor, fighting to get himself upright. His bones feel like liquid. All he can see is the blood leaving his body, eyes frantically scanning the room in a desperate haze before he finally loses his battle.