Day 3: Past Trauma
Something random (and extremely personal) for @harringrovemovember
tw for psych ward/hospitalization/involuntary hold, suicide attempt, self harm, psychosis/brief psychotic disorder, hallucinations, medication
Billy and Steve were roommates in the psych ward. Billy had an episode of drug induced psychosis and a suicide attempt. Steve had alcohol induced psychosis at a party that caused hallucinations and paranoia.
Steve had been there for a few days longer than Billy, so he's freed from the constant observation first, and finally allowed to wear regular clothes and not the hideous hospital gowns anymore. When Billy was involuntarily admitted, he slept for 48 hours straight. Steve had done the same when he first got there, so he'd be sure to be considerate, quiet, and stopped eating in the room so the lights could be off as much as possible.
When the nurse would come in every 15 minutes to check on Billy, sometimes Steve would tell the nurse that Billy was crying and talking in his sleep.
When Billy finally woke up, Steve was on his way back from lunch with his coffee. They made eye contact. Steve stared, Billy glared.
"What?" Billy snapped.
"No-nothing. Welcome back. You've been sleeping for days."
"I don't remember anything."
"You should grab something to eat before lunch is over."
"Not hungry."
"Okay, get some Ensure from the nurse's station, then. If you don't put anything in your system, they'll keep you here longer."
Billy sighed and stood, sucking his teeth when he noticed the back of his gown was open.
"Here. Here." Steve handed him an extra gown. "Wear this one backwards so you're fully covered."
"Thanks." Billy grumbled. "What's your name?"
"Steve."
"I'm-"
"Billy. I know. I remember all the noise you made when you first got here. You cried so loud, I couldn't sleep."
"Sorry. I don't remember that."
"It's okay. I didn't remember much when I first got here either."
"Jesus. Are they wiping our memories or something?"
Steve snorted. It'd been awhile since he laughed. "No. Probably the psychosis."
"Oh. Is that what it was? Shit, that must be why they gave me that MRI, or whatever it was. They put me through a machine. I thought I dreamt that though, and—agh!" Billy held his head. "Fuckin' migraine."
"You need to eat. C'mon. Get something to eat. There're chicken sliders. They're actually pretty good. The coffee will keep you alert too."
Billy shrugged. "I guess."
When Billy's constant observation was over and done with, and he was no longer considered a harm to himself, he was excited for his mother to visit him and bring him some fresh clothes and food from outside.
When she didn't show, he had a terrible breakdown and started hearing voices, telling him he was never going to escape, and he should die. So Billy walked up to the nurse's station, being obnoxious and taking out all of his stress on everyone around him.
"Hey." He banged on the window. "Hello? I need my PRN. I'm hearing voices. Hey! Hey!"
Steve was doing his daily pacing the halls when he found Billy irritating the staff. "Billy, what are you doing?! You're gonna get in trouble again!"
"So? I want my fucking PRN. I'm hearing voices and I'm getting pissed off. My mom didn't show up or bring me my fucking clothes and-and I dunno. It triggered me or something."
Steve cocked his head, spotting the devastation in Billy's eyes. "Did you call her?"
"Yeah I fucking called! She didn't answer."
"I'm sorry. Maybe...something came up."
"Something came up." He darkly chuckled. "No, she just doesn't wanna see me." He turned back to the nurse's station, proceeding to bang on the glass. "P! R! N! Give me my fucking drugs or I'm going to kill myself! I'll do it!"
"Billy? Billy, stop. You can't say things like that."
"And why the hell not? They gonna put me in the psych ward?" Billy laughed.
Steve sighed, looking up as an irate nurse approached the window. "He's really distressed." Steve explained. "His mom didn't show up for her visit with him."
"Billy, do you need me to call the doctor?" The nurse asked.
"No. Just give me my meds so I can go lay back down."
The nurse gave Billy his medication, and he brushed past Steve, returning to their room.
Steve went to the laundry room to pick up his clothes, and brought them to their room.
He tossed Billy some shirts and sweatpants.
"We're really not supposed to keep food in our rooms, but my mom brought me a lot of snacks and the head nurse said I have to throw them away by tomorrow if I don't eat them. You want some?"
Billy slowly nodded.
Steve's eyes inadvertently fell on Billy's self harm scars when he reached out a hand for some candy.
"Do you...remember anything yet?"
"Not much. I remember wandering around for a long time. I remember...hearing a bunch of voices all at once. I remember calling 9-1-1 from an emergency box in some neighborhood. I remember crying in an ambulance and getting a couple of stitches. That's really all."
"I don't remember much either. One minute I was at a party with my girlfriend, the next, I was hearing this loud humming sound, and I was dizzy...I dunno. I just know she's not my girlfriend anymore. I don't remember what happened, or what I did, but she's not my girlfriend now. She hasn't accepted calls from me since I got here. Her parents called the hospital and had them order me to stop calling her."
"That's messed up." Billy responded with his mouth full. " What a bitch. She can get fucked."
"How long do you think you'll be here?" Steve asked, shifting the subject. "I'm ready to go home."
"Forever, probably. I'm batshit crazy and I don't have much of a home to go back to. I think it's what drove me over the edge."
"You're not crazy. Don't say that about yourself. Just cooperate, alright? Come out of your room more often, eat in the cafeteria, come to the group meetings..."
"Ugh." Billy threw himself back on the bed. "I don't want to. I'd rather just lay here and rot."
"You can't—"
Billy groaned. "There's 1 little fucking window here at the end of the hall. I can't go outside. I can't call my friends long distance because these shitty fucking phones only make local calls. I can't smoke—"
"Did you get a nicotine patch?"
"Yeah I got a fucking nicotine patch, but...I...I..."
"You what?" Steve leaned forward.
"I smoke for like...stress and anxiety. I don't know how to deal here."
"Come to the rec room. If you get there early enough, you can take over the radio. And, you can play some ping pong with me."
"Ping pong?" Billy snorted.
"C'mon. You gotta try, alright?"
"But..."
"Look. If you cooperate and get out of here with me, I'll treat you to lunch. Wherever you wanna eat."
"Yeah?" For the first time in weeks, there was hope in Billy's eyes.
Steve nodded certainly. "Promise."
"Uh...Thanks for the clothes." Billy scooted next to Steve. "And the snacks."
"Anytime."
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Whumptober Alt Prompt #7 - "All Safe and Sound" (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)
Using a @whumptober alt prompt for today. A bit of a different twist on a Giorno scar reveal fic for today with some misunderstandings and protective papa bears Bruno and Abbacchio
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Prompts Used: Alt. #7: Examination
Fandoms: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5
Character: Giorno
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Read on Ao3
Read on FF.net
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Abbacchio hurried through the doors of the emergency room with the bundle of blankets and blond teen in his arms.
"Hey!" he called sharply to the nurse working the reception desk. "I'm gonna need some help here. The kid's fever spiked and he's currently unresponsive."
The nurse moved far too calmly for Abbacchio's liking. "Do you know the reason for the fever?"
"He's sick," Abbacchio snapped. "Flu or something—I don't know, I'm not a doctor. He came down with it a few days ago." Even now he could feel Giorno shivering in his arms, soft whimpers escaping every once in a while. Abbacchio readjusted him so that his head wasn't lolling uncomfortably over his arm, but instead tucked against his chest.
"Any other symptoms?"
"Regular coughing and congestion, vomiting—can we please get him some help?"
"Calm down, sir, we'll get him to an examination room shortly."
The nurse picked up the phone and called someone as Abbacchio was practically grinding his teeth, standing there with Giorno still in his arms.
A doctor finally showed up and she beckoned to Abbacchio. "Follow me, I'll see to him."
Abbacchio gratefully followed her down the hall and lowered Giorno onto the exam bed.
"How long has he been like this?" the doctor asked.
"He's only been unresponsive for about an hour, once I saw his fever had gone up near 105, I decided to bring him in. He hasn't been able to keep anything down, not even liquids so he's severely dehydrated."
The doctor was silent as she began unwrapping Giorno from the blanket, giving him a cursory examination.
"You said he had flu symptoms?"
"Yes, as far as we know, it started out like a head cold and then he got the fever and vomiting," Abbacchio replied, folding his arms tightly across his chest as he watched the doctor peel Giorno's eyelids back and look in his ears and nose before taking his temperature.
"Anything in his medical history that I need to know about?"
Abbacchio sighed in exasperation, throwing his hands up. "I don't know."
"I assume you're not his parent," the doctor said, eyeing him up and down.
"No," Abbacchio replied.
"Guardian, then? Or some other family member?"
"I…no, I guess guardian?"
"Sir, I'm going to need a definitive answer on that."
"What the hell does it matter what I am to him? Can't you do your damn job either way? He's a sick kid, help him!"
"What is his name and age?" the doctor asked stiffly as she checked Giorno's temperature.
"Giorno Giovanna, he's sixteen."
The doctor continued silently, putting her stethoscope in her ears and slipping it under Giorno's shirt to listen to his heart. She then rolled him onto his side presumably to listen to his lungs, but as she started to roll his shirt up his back she stopped, freezing slightly before she tugged it back down and turned to Abbacchio with a stony look.
"Sir, I need you to leave the room."
"What? No way, I'm not leaving until I know he's gonna be okay!" Abbacchio protested. "He'll freak out if he wakes up here without anyone he knows."
"I'm afraid I will not allow any argument on this issue," the doctor said and simply marched over, grabbing Abbacchio's arm roughly and pulling him toward the door. "Unless you want me to call security. I'll be out to discuss things with you soon."
Abbacchio was so stunned that he allowed her to shove him out the door and close it behind him. He stood there for a long moment, confusion and worry crashing through him before he finally forced himself to go back to the waiting room, slumping in one of the chairs and bouncing his leg anxiously.
He felt awful, honestly. Bruno had only left for one freaking day and Abbacchio hadn't even been able to watch over a sick kid. Trish and Narancia, who were the only other ones home had been helpful with Giorno's tending but they hadn't known any more than he did. They'd all thought it was just a flu. But then when Giorno's fever spiked so much he turned delirious and now with the doctor's reaction…what if something genuinely serious was wrong with the kid and none of them had noticed? Abbacchio had just thought it was because Giorno had the habit of running himself into the ground so when a bug got to him it hit him really hard—Bruno was the same way. But what if it wasn't something so simple as the yearly flu?
He finally plucked up the courage to call Bruno. He'd promised to call Trish and Narancia too but wanted to wait until he got any news.
"Abbacchio?" Bruno picked up after a couple rings.
"Hey," Abbacchio rubbed a hand over his face. "Giorno…he got worse, so I took him to the emergency room. His fever spiked and I didn't know what else to do."
"God," Bruno murmured. "Okay, no, you did what you should have, Leone. I'm back in the city and I'll make my way over there after dropping the others off. Did they say anything else?"
"No," Abbacchio didn't want to alarm Bruno before he got here in person, especially if he was just reading the situation wrong. "The doctor's still looking at him."
"Okay. Thank you for looking after him, Leone. I'm sure he'll be okay."
Abbacchio wasn't entirely sure, but he ended the call.
He waited a little bit longer, but finally got impatient and stood, heading back toward the room he'd left Giorno in.
He was surprised to see the doctor and a couple nurses standing in the open doorway, talking quietly. Abbacchio could see past them to Giorno lying in the bed, covered in a blanket with an IV drip attached to his arm, hopefully giving him some much needed hydration.
When the doctor spotted him coming their way, she pointed to him with a couple murmured words to the others before stepping up as if to confront him.
"Sir, I asked you to wait in the waiting room."
"All I wanted was an answer as to whether the kid would be okay or not," Abbacchio snapped.
"He's going to be fine," the doctor said shortly. "We're giving him some intravenous fluids right now and some strong medicine to bring the fever down."
"Great," Abbacchio replied, still uneasy. "So can I sit with him, then?"
"We think it's best that you stay away from Giorno until we can ask him a few questions."
Abbacchio frowned, genuinely confused. "Why? He contagious or something? More so than a normal flu?"
"This isn't about him being sick," one of the other doctors spoke up. "This is about your relationship to the young man."
Abbacchio felt like he was about to tear his hair out. "What the hell does that have to do with it?"
"Normally, nothing," the doctor said. "But when a patient shows such clear signs of abuse, it's our job to ask. Especially when they come in with an obviously aggressive 'guardian'." The last word was spoken very pointedly with a cocked eyebrow but Abbacchio was still hooked on 'clear signs of abuse'.
"What do you mean signs of abuse?" he demanded, voice raised quite a bit now.
"Sir, calm down—"
"Don't tell me to fucking calm down!" Abbacchio snapped. "You refuse to give me Giorno's diagnosis, kick me out of the room, and then accuse me of abusing him? Just because I waited an hour to see if his fever would go down by itself instead of taking him here at the first sign of a sniffle?"
"Stop deflecting," the doctor said sternly. "This isn't about him being sick, this about the scars that are literally covering his back."
That information was like a slap to Abbacchio's face. He stood there with his mouth hanging open. "The what?!"
"For you to even enter this room, we're going to need both proof of guardianship and Giorno's express approval—after it has been given in private to one of our staff with the promise of security should he refuse."
"What the fuck kind of bastard do you think I am to beat a kid?" Abbacchio demanded, furious.
"Call security," the doctor told one of the nurses firmly. "Sir, I'll give you one more chance to leave before you're escorted off the premises."
"I'm not leaving the kid here alone!" Abbacchio shouted.
"What exactly is going on here?"
The authoritative voice stopped everyone, and Abbacchio spun in relief to see Bucciarati striding up.
"Bruno, thank god," Abbacchio growled. "The doctor here refuses to let me see Giorno because she's convinced I've abused him."
"Excuse me?" Bruno demanded, eyebrow raised.
The doctor folded her arms over her chest. "Are you Signore Giovanna's guardian?"
"Yes, I am," Bruno replied firmly. "What is the problem here? Why can't Abbacchio sit with him? I assume a badly sick minor is reason enough to forgo usual visiting hours?"
"It's policy that if we expect a patient of being the victim of abuse we cannot allow any potential abusers near them."
"What abuse are we talking about here?" Bruno demanded.
"She says he has scars on his back," Abbacchio said, feeling sick to his stomach at the thought. "Do you know anything about that?"
"What?" Bruno asked incredulously. "Are you accusing Abbacchio of beating him?"
"Well, sir, someone clearly has," the doctor said firmly. "And unless I get some answers out of you two, neither of you are going to be allowed in that room."
"Now see here, Doctor," Bucciarati said, voice low and dangerous. Abbacchio could see his Stand aura wavering around him, Sticky Fingers' hands turning into fists over his own. "Whatever abuse happened to that boy it was not done under my roof, and I resent—"
"Please…stop."
Everyone froze, turning to the open door of the room to see Giorno, propping himself up weakly, looking toward them.
"Giorno," Bruno murmured stepping forward before the doctor held her arm across the door. Abbacchio was sure for a second that Bruno was going to zip it off her body, but Giorno's voice carried weakly to them again.
"They didn't do it. Please let them in," he said.
The doctor didn't relent. "Are you just saying that because you're scared of what they'll do?" she asked kindly. "I promise, no one will hurt you here. We'll have them taken away if that's what you want."
"No!" Giorno pleaded, reaching out and the sight made Abbacchio's heart ache, furious at the doctor. "Don't do that!"
Bruno moved forward. "This has gone far enough, I'm going in to see him."
"Call security!" the doctor snapped, making a move to grab at Bruno's arm, as the other nurses stepped forward.
"Is that you, Bucciarati?" A new voice called as footsteps came down the hall. "What's going on here?"
Abbacchio turned to see a middle-aged man in scrubs and a lab coat walking down the hall, brow pinched in confusion.
Bruno turned and let out a relived sigh. "Ah, Dr. Folliero, I'm so glad you're on duty tonight. One of your doctors seems to have gotten the wrong idea about one of my men."
"What's going on, Marzia?" the doctor asked.
The woman folded her arms. "Doctor, this man brought in a very sick young man with signs of abuse and neither of them have done anything to convince me that one of them was not the one responsible."
"They're not!" Giorno's weak voice came again before he coughed, one of the nurses pushed inside to go see to him.
"This man is with you, Bucciarati?" Dr. Folliero asked, motioning to Abbacchio.
"Yes," both Bruno and Abbacchio said at the same time as the doctor nodded.
"Normally, I would say your dedication is admirable, Marzia," Dr. Folliero said calmly. "However, in this case you're quite mistaken." He reached out to squeeze Bruno's arm fondly. "I've known Bruno Bucciarati since he was little more than a boy coming to visit his ailing father. And since then he has brought me many children off the streets and paid for their treatment out of pocket. He is the last person you should be accusing of abuse to anyone other than the abusers themselves."
"And I assure you that Abbacchio does not beat children either," Bruno said firmly. "He just doesn't take kindly to people keeping information from him when it involves family." Abbacchio flushed, somewhat embarrassed by his conduct, but he would still stand by his principles.
The doctor Marzia looked thoroughly deflated. "I apologize, Signore. I made a mistake."
"This time, yes," Bruno told her. "But do not let that keep you from doing the same in the future. It could save someone's life."
"Well said," Dr. Folliero nodded, giving his protégé a fond look. "I'll see to the boy myself."
Bruno instantly flew into the room with Abbacchio quick to follow.
"How are you doing, kid?" he asked Giorno softly. "Sorry for the trouble."
Bruno took a seat beside him, taking his hand and squeezing in reassurance.
Giorno looked awful, lying there, pale, except for his flushed cheeks, the IV drip leading to a taped needle in the crook of his arm.
"Feel a little better," he murmured.
Dr. Folliero checked him over briefly. "Your fever is down to a manageable 102.5. If you keep this up and are able to keep something in your stomach by tomorrow, then we'll see about getting you out of here."
Giorno nodded tiredly, before his eyes slid shut again, clasping Bruno's hand firmly.
"He'll be all right?" Abbacchio asked the doctor.
The old man smiled at him kindly. "Yes. It's just a bad flu. I would simply recommend he get lots of rest in order to recuperate once you get him back home."
"That's all I wanted to know before," Abbacchio muttered.
Folliero's face sobered them. "I take it from the conversation you didn't know about his scars?"
Bruno's face turned pained as he shook his head. "No, I didn't. Giorno's only been with us for about six months and he hasn't told me much about his past yet."
The doctor nodded. "Well, I'm glad he found you, Bucciarati, wherever he might have been before." He squeezed Bruno's shoulder and shook Abbacchio's hand before he left. "I'll be here all night. Don't hesitate to ask for me if he needs anything."
"Thank you," Bruno said, tiredly.
Abbacchio stood there for a long second before he pulled out his phone. "I'm gonna go call the others real quick. Give them an update."
Bruno nodded, still focused on Giorno.
By the time he got back, someone had brought two hot coffees and Abbacchio gratefully took one as he pulled another chair over to the side of the bed.
"Hey," Abbacchio said, nudging Bruno's knee. "Try not to interrogate him about it. I'm sure he didn't want us to find out like this."
Bruno's look was stricken but he nodded reluctantly, reaching out to push some stray bangs from Giorno's sweaty forehead. "I know. Just…the thought that the bastard who did it might still be out there somewhere…"
"I know," Abbacchio replied darkly. "But ultimately it's up to Giorno."
They sat mostly in silence all night. Abbacchio dozed off, but woke as the shift nurse came in around dawn to check on Giorno.
"He's doing well," she said kindly. "Fever's down to 100 now. We'll let him try eating someone when he wakes up."
Bruno nodded gratefully and the nurse left. Abbacchio stood, stretching with a yawn. "I'll go grab some more coffee."
When he came back, Giorno was awake, and allowing Bruno to prop him up, holding a cup for him to drink from.
"Hey, you're looking a little better," Abbacchio told him, setting Bruno's coffee on the beside table.
"I feel a little better," Giorno admitted. "Just…tired."
"Yes, and you'll be resting up for quite a while," Bruno insisted. Abbacchio wished he could get a recording to play back the next time Bruno got sick.
Giorno looked down at his lap, hands clenched in the blanket. "I…owe you an explanation."
"No, Giorno," Bruno said quietly. "You don't owe us anything, especially not until you're well."
Giorno fidgeted. "if I don't tell you now, I'll just be thinking of it the whole time," he said tiredly, hands clutching the blankets tighter. "The scars…they're from my stepfather. He used to beat me. Usually when he was drunk, but not always. I…I didn't tell you about them before because I just wanted to put that part of my life behind me, but I couldn't let them kick you out, and I couldn't stand to hear them accuse you of doing it because you're…" His eyes filled and his breath hitched. He cringed, knuckles going white as he clenched his fists tighter in the blankets. "You've all been so good to me and I didn't think I'd ever know what it felt like to be part of a family."
"Oh, Giorno," Bruno whispered, looking on the verge of tears himself. He was already standing before he asked. "May I hug you?"
Giorno nodded, choking back a sob, and clung to Bruno as he pulled him into his arms.
"I'm sorry," he sniffled. "I didn't mean to get like this."
"It's the fever talking," Abbacchio said, having mercy on the kid as he sat on the other side of the bed and opened his arms to hug Giorno next. "But you don't need to apologize either. I'm sorry you had shit parents and I promise that all you have to do is say the word and if they're still breathing, they won't be for long."
Giorno squeezed him weakly. "Thanks, Abba," he murmured into his chest.
Abbacchio met Bucciarati's eyes over Giorno's head with a silent nod. They would definitely be looking into information about Giorno's stepfather, keeping tabs on him.
Abbacchio pulled away and Bruno leaned in, pressing a firm kiss to the side of Giorno's head. "Best get some more rest. You should be able to go home by tonight."
Giorno nodded and passed out almost instantly as Bruno pulled the blanket over him again.
"You know, Leone," Bruno said quietly. "I used to wonder if it was worth it, worth all the blood and pain and filthy deeds this life brings. But being able to have the power to protect the ones who need it—it makes it all worth it in the end, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Abbacchio replied sincerely. "It does."
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