Party Poison (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
afabulouskilljoy) wrote2017-03-19 03:09 pm
afabulouskilljoy) wrote2017-03-19 03:09 pm
Entry tags:
Yeerk Aftermath
Poison sits in the window seat in his and Jack's room. He knows he shouldn't be such a recluse but ever since he came back to himself he's felt... awful. For a lot of reasons.
First of all, there's a dead slug-thing in his head. What the fuck is that going to do to him? Jack says nothing will happen, says his body might even absorb it or something, but the whole idea of it freaks him the fuck out and he's praying to whatever deities he knows that he can just forget that it's in there. Secondly, he knows what he's done. Even if the Yeerk was in the driver's seat, Poison felt like he'd been tied up and gagged in the back, watching it all and unable to get out. Only a few times had he been able to break through, and even then not all the way. But he managed to keep the fucking slug from making him say anything too awful, and he'd managed to keep it from attacking Jack or Girl when they figured it out, when they locked him in the bedroom.
Thirdly, he's having flashbacks of the way he used to be, before he was out in the desert, after the war and before the rise of the Party Poison, when he'd taken the pills and listened to the messages and tried to get along. He pushes his hair back and leans back against the window frame, shivering.
He knows he can leave the room now, knows that the door isn't locked and that Jack and Girl aren't guarding him. But he can't bring himself to move. What if this is an illusion? What if it's fake? What if the yeerk is still alive and pretending to be dead to get out and do fuck knows what?
Nope, he's just going to sit here in his sheep pajamas and Jack's hoodie for a while. Or forever.
First of all, there's a dead slug-thing in his head. What the fuck is that going to do to him? Jack says nothing will happen, says his body might even absorb it or something, but the whole idea of it freaks him the fuck out and he's praying to whatever deities he knows that he can just forget that it's in there. Secondly, he knows what he's done. Even if the Yeerk was in the driver's seat, Poison felt like he'd been tied up and gagged in the back, watching it all and unable to get out. Only a few times had he been able to break through, and even then not all the way. But he managed to keep the fucking slug from making him say anything too awful, and he'd managed to keep it from attacking Jack or Girl when they figured it out, when they locked him in the bedroom.
Thirdly, he's having flashbacks of the way he used to be, before he was out in the desert, after the war and before the rise of the Party Poison, when he'd taken the pills and listened to the messages and tried to get along. He pushes his hair back and leans back against the window frame, shivering.
He knows he can leave the room now, knows that the door isn't locked and that Jack and Girl aren't guarding him. But he can't bring himself to move. What if this is an illusion? What if it's fake? What if the yeerk is still alive and pretending to be dead to get out and do fuck knows what?
Nope, he's just going to sit here in his sheep pajamas and Jack's hoodie for a while. Or forever.
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Krem wasn't sure if the whole experience, short as it was, was better or worse than the hellscape version of Darrow that had tormented him with his fears and memories.
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"Cassie says it could eventually just kinda... come out of my ear again. I'm not sure which is worse: it being in there, or the possibility of feeling it coming out and seeing it."
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"We could have a setting-this-thing-on-fire party."
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"I'm better than I was after the mirror-version of Darrow," he said after a moment. "But I'm not...I'm not well, no. At least it didn't get a chance to make me do anything."
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