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Crash and Burnout, Part 6

Posted on Mon Feb 19th, 2018 @ 2:38am by Unawakened Devon Spencer

Mission: Pre-Awakening
Location: Newport News, Virginia
Timeline: Friday, 12 March 2010
Tags: Devon, Dev, Deo, Spencer, Bobbie, Mitchum, Jacob, Millman, doctor, therapist, Natalie

Previously, “Tripping Balls Down the Rabbit Hole”


Rain poured steadily as a familiar green Toyota Verso pulled into the driveway of the Jones residence. Devon Spencer emerged from the passenger side after having seen his therapist, Natalie. His mood matched the dark, stormy sky. Peals of thunder rattled his teeth and gave voice to his inner turmoil. This, while his face retained a sense of stony detachment. He drew the hood of his jacket against the rain and chill and ran inside. Bobbie, his love and companion climbed out, shouted after him, “Deo!”

Hunger continued to tear at the young artist’s insides after four days. Tina left Tuesday afternoon to continue her trip to Tarpon Springs and as promised, she called Thursday with the results of Devon’s blood test.

Nothing.

Test results confirmed the obvious, dehydration. In addition, Deo suffered from low calcium and sodium but while low, levels remained just inside the range of normal. According to the results, Deo should have felt a little tired and perhaps achy but nothing explained his ravenous hunger. Based on this, Chuck and Sandy insisted, going so far as to overrule Liv’s protest, Devon go to the Emergency Room.

Devon saw the worry etched on Chuck and Sandy’s faces. He loved them very much and he decided to go if only to ease their concern. So, Liv and Bobbie accompanied him to see Doctor Millman at Williamsburg Memorial. Devon thought back to that night:

“Devon Spencer,” Millman greeted his recurring patient. “I’ll give you one thing,” he smiled. “Seeing you is never boring.”

The doctor ran the same blood tests as Tina and gained the same results. He added a series of gastrointestinal scans searching for other serious threats to his patient’s health and once again the tests proved inconclusive.

Doctor Milman peered at his computer screen after an exhaustive night of testing. “I’m glad you came clean about marijuana use, Devon,” he announced once he finished. “We were able to rule out an allergic reaction to THC. Whatever happened, it wasn’t the pot you smoked. Also, we showed no secondary chemicals, meaning that the marijuana wasn’t laced with another drug. You’re lucky,” Millman looked him in the eye. “One reason why marijuana is illegal is due to unregulated quality control. You’re playing Russian Roulette with any illegal substance. The availability of marijuana raises the mathematical likelihood of getting something bad higher. Anyway,” he smiled sympathetically, “enough of the lecture. You seem fine physically, but we can’t rule out some other kind of reaction. I’d like you to follow up with your regular physician. Also, I see here that you’re taking medication for Post-traumatic Stress. Just to be safe, I’d like you to check in with your therapist.”

That led to today and the talk with Natalie. She asked questions like always and together, she and Devon came to a disturbing realization, the repercussions of which led the young Greek to march into the house, stripping off his wet clothes and changing inside the guest room.

“Deo,” Bobbie followed with a look of raw concern. He closed the door, “What’s going on? Why did you flinch away from me in the car?”

“Nothing, I can’t–I just–I can’t talk about it right now.” The artist shivered against more than chill as he dressed in warm, dry clothes. He looked up at the reflection of the man he loved in the mirror and hung his head shamefacedly.

“I know I pushed us to be completely open and honest with each other. I-I don’t know how to handle this, Bobbie! It makes sense and it’s driving me crazy!” He rolled his eyes and laughed mirthlessly, “Okay, crazier.”

“Try just spitting it out. Don’t worry about making sense right now,” Bobbie reached to touch his love but Devon cringed.

“Deo,” Bobbie spoke soothingly, “May I touch you?”

“I-I can’t, Bobbie,” Deo breathed a gripped the edge of the vanity to regain his composure.

“What can you tell me about today?”

The Greek youth turned and waited for Bobbie to step back before entering the bedroom. Bobbie took time to change his clothes before coming back and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Devon stared at the floor and spoke with a voice strained with the effort to maintain control while simultaneously aching with near exhaustion. “We talked about Sunday night.”

“Okay,” Bobbie raised a leg to sit more comfortably. “I remember Sunday night. That was the night we got high. We had a lot of fun. We talked about a lot of things in my room and then we fell asleep.”

“Yeah,” Devon’s eyes grew haunted. “We talked about–I wanted–” he took a deep breath, “I was ready.”

“I remember,” Bobbie cast down his gaze. “I love you so much, Deo. I wanted to–oh, God….” he grew pale. “That triggered you.”

Deo nodded in confirmation with stiff, jerky movements. “I was high at the time and it didn’t hit me until later after I … how do you say it? After I came down. I was ready and then you didn’t want to….” He swallowed hard.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to,” Bobbie ached to reach across and hold his love. “I didn’t want our first time to happen there, in that pig sty. I wanted our first time to be special. I didn’t want us to be high and have regrets later.”

“I can know that up here,” Devon tapped his temple, “I know about absolute thinking. Either-or … all or nothing … black or white … on or off … yes or….” his eyes closed.

“...Or no,” Bobbie finished. “It didn’t matter why. It only mattered that I said ‘no’. Deo, I’m so sorry,” he pinched the bridge of his nose mentally kicking himself.

“I triggered and I haven’t come down all week because we’ve been constantly together, sleeping in the same bed. I didn’t know, Bobbie. Natalie, my therapist suggested that….” he took a shuddering breath, “She said that maybe we should stay apart for a few days, just until my body settles down.”

“If it will help,” Bobbie nodded miserably.

“I-I don’t know,” Devon bounced his knee restlessly. “I’ve only been able to stand this because you were here with me. The thought of sending you away … it doesn’t feel like an answer. It feels wrong, like an excuse. I feel like I’m feeding the crazy. How can we have a relationship if I trigger like this? Am I going to send you away every time this happens? That isn’t fair to you, Bobbie!”

“Deo,” the green-eyed youth sat closer, careful not to touch the Greek boy. “It’s okay, this isn’t your fault. It’s automatic–”

“It always will be!” Devon tore away with frustration. “I hate this, Bobbie! I hate feeling like I’m about to throw up when the man I love sits close to me! I hate trying to live my life only to have this shit hit me out of nowhere! I’m sick of it! I’m sick of being sick!”

Devon felt his control slip. His lip trembled and tears stung his eyes. He turned quickly to stare at the floor once more, hiding his shame. “If you go….”

“I’m not going away, Deo,” Bobbie shushed gently. “I might sleep on the couch outside if that’ll help and the Joneses are okay with it. The bigger question is whether it’s enough for you.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Deo choked miserably.

“Deo, look at me,” Bobbie coaxed. The Greek boy looked up slowly, his eyes bloodshot and his face strewn wetly with tears. Bobbie smiled tenderly, “I love you. I’m not going to leave you. You’re not going to lose me. You’re stuck with me. Ha-ha-ha sucks to be you!” He grinned.

Devon could not help but smile, “I could do worse.”

“We’ll get through this, Babe. We’ll keep getting through it as long as it takes.”


-To be continued-

 

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