Chapter Text
Johnny must've gone over his list about twelve times now. He's going out for the Summer, much did his parents beg him to go. They're staying at uncle Jonathan's house for the three months they have of vacation which means he has to pack, and he hates packing.
The only things on his list are his phone, charger, headphones and his Switch. This seems enough for him since all he's planning to do is stay in his room all day until they leave. Ready to stay in his room all day as soon as they're back home. He doesn't really plan on much else, not for now and not for the near (or far) future. Prefers to rot in his bed until he dies, hopefully in the next two or three years.
Still, he can't figure out what to take with him. His brother said he needed the basics: clothes, underwear, toothbrush and paste, and any products for skin or hair care he has (Pamela suggested that last one, as if Johnny used anything other than his 3-in-1 shampoo).
He finds all this unnecessary. He can ask someone to buy most of these things at a convenience store if he ends up needing anything, and his clothes do just fine. Jonathan probably has a washing machine.
He can't remember the last time he's changed them. Maybe last week? No, it was a little over that. Two Thursdays ago when his family left for dinner and he had nothing to eat. Went out to buy cigarettes. Yeah, that was it.
At least he manages to shower once in a while, until the feel of his skin starts becoming unbearable and he imagines bugs crawling over him. Becoming paranoid usually does the deal, but only usually. Sometimes he hopes those imaginary bugs eat him alive.
He's just staring at the words on his phone, meanwhile. Phone, charger, headphones, Switch. Adds cigarettes. And a lighter. He doesn't have any cigarettes left. Takes them off the list. He'll buy them first thing.
He needs a different outfit if he does end up going out to buy anything. They'll probably force him to go himself so he doesn't become fully paraplegic from not moving his legs for too long. So he adds that, a t-shirt sweater and pants. Supposes underwear's important. Two pairs.
He thinks this is a decent list.
He looks at the time. He hasn't really put anything in his bag and it's already or only been half an hour. Johnny can't tell if that's a good thing or bad thing, the notion of time has left him long ago. He thinks. The days keep blending together and time seems to go slow or fast or not go by at all and he's stayed awake for three days straight and slept the next three and can't tell how long ago school ended or when he's talked to someone outside of his family and he used to have Danny which he stayed alive for because the little mouse didn't understand the concept of death but he died himself and Johnny feels himself getting closer to him and he wishes he was closer to him and suddenly he can't really breathe anymore and his vision's getting blurry and he stares at the ceiling for a while chest heaving up and down and then he hears Nick telling him to 'calm down and focus on my voice' and he tries so hard until his lungs slow down and he can finally tell the difference between the light blue of his ceiling and the white stars he remembers glow in the dark and he looks down to his brother's blue eyes which match his left wall if you're just walking in and those blue eyes seem sad or worried and he slows down and tells Nick three objects he can see when he's asked to do so and then he can breathe and he breathes deep and feels fingers drying his cheeks and he closes his eyes and focuses on the story he's being told. Something about daisies in their garden. Johnny loves daisies.
"Feeling any better?"
"How did you know?"
"I knocked to ask if you were ready but you didn't answer so I walked in. Talk about right timing."
He's told they're supposed to leave in ten minutes, meaning it's been twenty since he last looked at the time. He thinks he really needs to sleep.
"I made a list." He gives his phone over to his older brother, who carefully reads through it, raising an eyebrow once he's done.
"You're not taking your toothbrush?" I'll buy one. "Only one shirt?" Two with the one I'm wearing. "Why a lighter?" Cigarettes.
"Johnny, you're taking two pairs of underwear for three months."
"Damn it, Nick, I can't fucking think."
Nick sighs and stands up to grab two bags from the closet. Goes to the bathroom and packs some things, to the closet and packs others, and the bedside to pack the rest. He looks to the younger of the two and gives him a small smile.
"You can ask for my help anytime you want, you know?"
Johnny nods. Stands up but feels his legs weak. Nick gives him his crutches and they leave the room, something he's not used to doing during the day since the natural light of the hallway burns his eyes and feels too warm. He sucks it up and goes down the stairs with his brother's help.
And soon they're outside with his parents and Pamela who are putting everything in the trunk including his wheelchair which barely fits but they make it work. They help him to the back of the seven-seater and get all set to go, much to Johnny's dismay.
He hopes it'll go by fast.