let's be miserable together :: haddlebee

“Jackson?”

Jack’s head snapped over to the right, where the leader of the group therapy session (whose name currently escaped him) had just called his name.

“Yeah?” he asked monotonously, realizing that he’d probably missed his turn in this round of “sharing”.

This was Jack’s fifth or sixth meeting, and so was the fifth or sixth time he’d wheeled his chair into the circle that met every Wednesday night in a too-brightly lit room at the clinic. Every week the leader would have each patient in turn tell about their lives, their disabilities, and how they were feeling. Which was awful, by the way. Always awful. And it wasn’t often that they got a new face, so everyone’s lives were drilled into each other’s minds, even though it was obvious that pretty much no one cared about anyone else. Except the group that sat up by the leader, of course. The clio who sat there were so positive and happy Jackson wanted to feed them through a woodchipper. It was too bad too, because one of the men in that section was pretty attractive.

“It’s your turn,” the leader prompted with a goofy grin. Jackson started blankly at him. The man had lost an arm at the age of 14 in an accident that cost his friend his life. The smile was maddening. And he was always so eager to hear the stories everyone told (some in way too much detail) even though he heard the same ones every damn week.

“Of course,” he said with a sarcastic smile, not bothering to keep the patronizing tone out of his voice. “Jackson Levis, 21, lost the ability to walk a few months ago during a freak accident. I’m doing just swell.”

He let his head fall to the side, looking to the guy who sat to his left. “Your turn, dude,” he told him, once he noticed the vacant expression in his eyes. Blind. The poor bastard. He definitely wasn’t a regular--Jackson had never seen him before.

“Wait! Jackson, don’t you have anything else to share?” leader douche asked.

“Nope.”

“Mm, well, alright,” the man responded, obviously unhappy with the lack of effort on Jack’s part. “Then I’d like to introduce Overloridian Sterling to you all,” he said, gesturing to the blind guy.

Well, fuck. Jackson had been sitting next to his overloridian and he didn’t even know it. Interesting.

Life hadn't been easy for Hadley since Remy moved out and pretty much cut off contact with him. In addition to just missing her in general and being lonely, he had never realized all the little things she had been doing to make life just a little bit easier for him. Small things like making sure the table was always set the same way, or telling him bluntly when his clothes didn't match, or helping to keep his office organized. Small things he'd taken for granted until suddenly no one was doing them anymore.

His therapist noticed something was up. Shrewd man, Dr. Carver was. Skeptical as he'd been about therapy at the start, Hadley had developed a grudging respect for the doctor. He knew what he was talking about, didn't patronize or walk on eggshells, and always told it like it was. He was one of the very, very few clio that Hadley actually talked openly with. That was how they ended up on the subject of Remy being gone, which had concerned Dr. Carver, as according to him Hadley was now missing a major part of his "support system."

And that was how Dr. Carver had ended up suggesting group therapy, as a way to build a new support system. Hadley, of course, refused right away. But later when he mentioned it to Sol, she agreed with the doctor that he should give it a try. Apparently she had found group therapy pretty helpful in the early days of her own crippledom. And then even freaking Nila started needling him about it, at which point he decided, fuck it, he'd go once just to make them all shut up.

So here he was, regretting every decision he'd ever made in his life that had lead him to this. He couldn't fathom how sitting here listening to everyone's life stories was supposed to help any of them, unless they were going for the "misery loves company" angle.

Jackson wrote:“Your turn, dude,”

"What?" Hadley asked. He'd been completely zoned out for the last few minutes.

Group Leader Guy wrote:“Then I’d like to introduce Overloridian Sterling to you all,”

Oh. They wanted him to talk. Wonderful. "Call me Hadley," he muttered. This was weird enough without everyone calling him Ov. Sterling. "Um. I lost my sight a few months ago."

"Hadley it is!" the man said cheerfully, his smile never shrinking. "Would you like to talk about how it is you came to lose your sight?"

Jackson rolled his eyes. Why the fuck would anyone want to talk about how they became disabled? The overloridian looked just as thrilled to be here as Jack felt. He felt for the guy, and wondered what had brought the poor sap in. Friends or family begging him to find a coping strategy? That's the only reason he was here, himself. Trying to make the last clio he cared about in the world happy.

"Hmm. No, not really," Hadley replied flatly. Why did he need to talk about what had happened? As if most of the clio in this room hadn't probably heard back when it had been in the newspapers. Plus he just didn't really want to tell a room full of strangers how a drunk hitman had beaten him so badly he ended up with brain damage. Most of the clio here had seemed to have been in accidents, which made his story stick out a bit.

The leader frowned slightly and Jackson bit back a laugh. He moved on quickly, asking the same questions to the lady who had sat on the left of Hadley. Around it went, each clio talking about their past and what had brought them here.

"Glad you came?" Jack muttered to the overloridian once the attention of everyone was on the opposite side of the circle. "Like honestly what the hell sort of place is this, am I right?" he asked, as Sarah Golman, 19, told the group about how she'd had some kind of accident as a child and had lost her left foot.

Jackson wrote:"Glad you came?"

Hadley tilted his head slightly. Was he talking to him? It seemed like it. "I'll be more glad when it's over so that I can tell everyone who wanted me to come here how it just isn't for me," he mumbled back quietly, although to be honest he didn't care all that much if anyone heard. He didn't get why Sol or Dr. Carver would have thought he'd benefit from this. "Is it just the same thing every time?"

"The exact same," Jack answered, even his voice sounding annoyed. "Meredith, 45, lost the use of her left side after a skiing accident," he whispered to Hadley mere moments before Meredith herself took the stage. Her version was much longer, but Jack had gotten the gist. "The exact fucking same thing," he repeated with emphasis as the leader moved on to Liz (43, in the process of going blind).

After the sharing, of course, they'd all discuss ways they tried to cope, and the leader would try to press things that had worked on others to the rest of the circle. Jackson supposed that was meant to be the helpful session, but all it did for him was make him more angry. Who the fuck cared what made other clio happy.

"Why do you keep coming here, then?" Hadley asked out of curiosity. He himself had no intentions of coming back if this was all it was. While he hadn't had super high hopes, he was thinking at least maybe that this group got together and, he didn't know, did something fun or whatever. Something besides sitting here and sharing fucking coping strategies with each other. He could do that with his regular goddamned therapist if he wanted to.

"Hadley," Group Leader Guy said suddenly. Hadley stopped, feeling for a second like a student getting called out in school for talking during a lecture. "Maybe you'd like to share some of your coping strategies with Liz here?"

Ugh. Hadley considered just making up some kind of feel-good shit that would make GLG happy, but both Sol and Dr. Carver had emphasized honesty. Fine, he'd give them honesty then. "I guess I just try to accept the fact that my life will never be as good as it was when I could see, because there's nothing else I can do about it," he said. After a pause, he added, "Good luck, Liz." At least she had some warning first.

GLG's eyes widened and he paused, unsure of what to say. "Okay," he said finally, still obviously grasping for words. "How have you remained active, independent?" he pressed, trying to dig more out of Hadley. "I noticed you came here alone. How has travel changed for you, now that you've lost your sight?"

What an ass, Jackson thought. It was obvious Hadley wasn't in the mood to share. GLG was so damn nosy. Jack wasn't even sure he ran this group to help clio--he was pretty positive he did it just to hear stories.

Hadley's apathetic expression faltered into a frown for a brief second. He hadn't, in fact, come here alone. He walked with a staffer who just didn't come in the building. "I'll be back for you in two hours!" they'd said cheerfully, as if they were dropping a child off at daycare. When Remy had taken him places, she at least put effort into acting like it was enjoyable and not a responsibility. Made it feel more like two friends just going on a walk.

Ugh. No. Don't think about Remy right now.

"It makes it harder to read street signs," he said dryly, knowing that that wasn't at all the type of answer GLG wanted out of him.

Jackson coughed back a laugh. At least the guy could still crack a joke. GLG hurriedly moved on to the next sorry sucker, leaving Hadley alone finally.

"I'm here for my mother," Jackson said, responding to Hadley's earlier question. "It makes her worry less." Jack's apathy at life in general had spared how he felt about his family, who were the only clio in the world who hadn't treated him like a leper. He shrugged, realizing only after that it didn't benefit Hadley at all. "Small price to pay for peace of mind, I guess." She still worried herself sick over him and his outlook on life but this was the most he could do for her. All other ships had sailed along with his ability to walk.

Hadley sat back, satisfied that GLG had gotten the message and moved on. He also smiled slightly at Jackson's weak attempt to hide a laugh.

Jackson wrote:"I'm here for my mother. It makes her worry less."

"Oh," Hadley replied. He supposed he should count himself lucky that Sol would probably be content with him just going once, unlike Jackson's mother, apparently. But he still sort of understood, having clio worry over you was never enjoyable. "There's nothing less painful you could do that would put her at ease?"

"Not that I've found," Jackson said. Or maybe he just hadn't put in the effort to find something else to keep her satisfied. Whatever the case, once he'd started attending therapy she'd gotten a little of her hope back and it was enough for Jack. An hour session once a week was annoying, sure, but, weighing the options, wasn't so bad.

"What brought you here?" he asked conversationally, expecting the answer to be similar to his own.

"My regular therapist suggested it," he replied with a shrug. "And then my sister backed him up. I guess she used to come here, years ago." It had to have changed since Sol did it, though, cuz there was no way she would have sat through this bullshit. In fact he could almost imagine her hijacking the whole thing and turning it into something actually worthwhile. "Even this one said I should do it," he added irritably, nudging Nila with his foot.

I thought it was worth a try... she said. Although she didn't mention that despite Hadley's bitching and moaning about being here, he was managing to have a friendly conversation with someone. The lack of Remy had made him a little more desperate for companionship, which was probably why he was actually being open and honest with someone for once.

"They said I needed a support system," he said, using the doctor's words. He sighed. What he needed was for Remy to come back.

Jackson shook his head. "What a little traitor," he joked, looking down at Hadley's daemon. "Support system, I feel it," Jack said. "I can just feel the support enveloping me," he said sarcastically, letting his voice get a little louder. What a joke.

Hadley was about to respond when GLG's annoying voice cut in. "Well, I'm afraid our time is up here, ladies and gentlemen!" he announced. Wait, that was it? That hadn't seemed like an hour. Hadley's sense of time was always off, though.

He waited for everyone else to leave so that he didn't have to deal with trying not to run into anyone. "Well that was a waste of time," he commented casually to Jackson, who he hadn't heard wheel away yet. Time to wait for whatsisface to show up to lead him home. And then to sit at home with no one to talk to. Yay.

"What do you usually do after this?" he asked Jackson. He acted like he was merely curious, but to be honest he sort of wanted to find out if he wanted to talk more or anything. This was the first normal conversation he'd had with someone who wasn't Sol since Remy left. Maybe if he found a new best friend things wouldn't suck so much.

Hadley, you can't just replace Remy with whoever you feel like at the time, Nila said, thinking of the numerous times Hadley had attempted such with his staff. Hadley ignored her. This was different. Jackson hadn't gotten the chance to hate him yet.

Jackson shrugged. In the past his evenings had been spent drinking a few beers with the guys, but lately he'd just kinda meandered around. If he came home too quick his family tended to worry. "Get away from here as quickly as possible, then roll around the market or something."

He sighed and wheeled his chair frontways a little and then back, messing with the wheels. "Or go to the brewery and drink my sorrows away," he joked. Going home drunk would be worse than going home immediately.

"Yeah, after that experience, the brewery doesn't sound like a bad idea at all," Hadley replied with a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. He felt like he should probably tell Dr. Carver that group therapy needed a serious overhaul, but he honestly didn't care that much. He wasn't coming back, soooo.

"I might join you at the market though," he said, getting up. There were no more footsteps or chattering voices, so he assumed the room had pretty much emptied out. "I have an hour to kill and I don't really want to spend it waiting around here." One of the most frustrating things was not just being able to go where he wanted when he wanted. He always had to be with someone. The doctor had told him he'd get the hang of independent travel eventually, but that it would take some time.

Jackson shrugged. "Sounds good," he told him, wheeling after him. They left the insufferable clinic and traveled to the little market that was in Earalas' main square.

The market was really bustling this time of year, full of autumn sales like pumpkins and various other squash. Homemade sweaters and scarves among other fall clothing were at every booth. The smell of apples and cinnamon was in the air, and made Jackson breathe deep.

"Thank gods the summer is over," he said conversationally. "It was so hot in this chair constantly I felt like I was constantly sweating my balls off."

Hadley followed closely behind the sounds of Jackson ahead of him, knowing that that way he wouldn't have to worry about any obstacles in front of him. He liked the market, all the sounds of activity and scents of autumn. It made the world seem a little more alive, especially considering how dead everything seemed after Remy left.

He shook his head at Jackson's comment. "Shoulda picked Earalas," he told him. "Then the heat wouldn't bother you at all. Not to mention you'd have the kindest and most benevolent overloridian."

Jack chuckled. "Then Id also be stuck in this goddamned chair forever," he said. "Cuir means I get to fly, still."

He thanked the gods every day that he was able to fly. It was why he could still be so independent. He didn't need help getting into the chair or into bed or the shower. "Though Earalas would have helped with the pyrotechnics at my old shows."

Jack wrote:"Cuir means I get to fly, still."

Cuir, huh? Hm, so it seemed that Jackson had lucked out with his eilemaiden in a way, not unlike Sol. Not that either of them could really be considered lucky by any stretch. "Well, you're still missing out on having the best overloridian," he said lightly.

JackJack wrote:"Though Earalas would have helped with the pyrotechnics at my old shows."

"What kind of shows?" Hadley asked out of curiosity.

"Concerts," Jackson said as he wheeled through the market. He didn't often talk about his past life, mostly because he was still bitter about losing everything, but for some reason he didn't mind as much when he was talking to Hadley. Probably because he knew Hadley's life had to have changed significantly after his disability, also.

"Not to brag, but I used to be famous," he joked to the currently-famous overloridian.

"You play music, then?" Hadley asked with more interest. Music was one of the few things he could appreciate just as much now as he ever had. It was why, when Remy had brought home her camera, he had half-seriously wished that sound-recording would be the next big invention. Maybe he should commission some engineers for that or something. It had to be possible, right? "What kind?"

"All kinds. In the band I played the guitar and bass, but I've learned at least a little of pretty much everything out there." Jackson's favorite were actually woodwinds (and were the true reason he'd settled as Cuir), but he'd never admit that out loud.