Be My Saving Grace, page 7
‘Finn?’ Nickolas asks.
‘Hey, Nick.’ Finn’s voice is so soft. He smiles brighter as he says Nickolas’s name and it takes Nickolas’s breath away.
‘What are you—?’
‘I don’t know, man, it’s your dream.’
‘This doesn’t mean… I’d never… you’re my patient, Finn.’
Finn squeezes his hand again. ‘It’s okay. Friends can hold hands too, you know.’
Nickolas is still hesitant. It’s a dream and yet his subconscious is screaming at him to step back. To set boundaries. But his heart feels like it’s beating for the first time in months. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to be here.’
‘Me neither. I mean, we only just met, so I must have made a great first impression.’
‘Are you always this cocky?’
‘Maybe. Maybe you’re just imagining me like this.’
Finn pulls Nickolas’s hand slightly and leads him down the shoreline as the sun beats down on them.
‘So who were you hoping you’d see?’ asks Finn.
‘No one,’ Nickolas lies.
‘Didn’t seem that way when you looked up and saw my face smiling back at you.’
‘If this is my dream then why are you getting on my nerves?’
Finn laughs. ‘Fine. You want me to tell you why I think you’re dreaming of me?’
‘Enlighten me.’
‘I think we can help each other.’
Nickolas stops walking, turning to face Finn head-on.
Why am I still holding Finn’s hand? I have the power to let go, don’t I? Nickolas ignores that thought and focuses on Finn’s comment. ‘Help each other how?’
‘You’re hurting, Nick. And a part of you is holding onto that pain to punish yourself.’
Nickolas finally lets go of Finn’s hand, but it’s so he can cross his arms over his chest. Why did his subconscious choose the face of Finn to tell him this?
‘And myself?’ Finn begins to explain. ‘Well, I’m hurting too. In more ways than I’m ready to admit. In ways that I can’t bring myself to share with my family. But maybe a friend – someone who won’t judge me or try to fix me with medication and therapy – maybe a friend is all I need to help move on from it all.’
‘So you’re saying we can help one another, what, heal?’
‘Something like that.’ Finn shrugs.
Nickolas thumbs his bottom lip.
‘Think about it. But I better get going.’
‘Go where? This is my dream.’
‘Exactly. Which means you must be ready to leave.’
Nickolas checks if the beach is still behind him, trying to determine if he’s still asleep. But as he turns back toward Finn, he’s gone, and the ocean is slowly beginning to fade as Nickolas turns his head left and right in the hopes that he can see where Finn walked off to. The bright sun has vanished, and Nickolas stands in darkness with this heavy weight appearing on his head.
Nickolas wakes up to Socks lying across his face, her fur covering his eyes He lifts her off and brings her back to his chest as he slowly opens his eyes, adjusting to the late morning light seeping in through the curtains. He pats her fur, trying to make sense of what happened in his dream. Why Finn? Sure, Nickolas cares for him, but he cares about all his patients. About their health and wellbeing. It’s not like he has spoken to the guy long enough to know if anything dream Finn said was true. Is Finn hurting? Nickolas understands that BP can twist a person’s mind and cause them pain in ways others don’t understand – but the bruises, Finn can’t remember what happened to him when the cops found him passed out, could that be what dream Finn is referring to? Is that how he’s hurting?
He sits up. Socks jumps off his chest and leaves the bedroom as he leans over to retrieve his phone. 10.13 a.m. is on the screen. He slept for another four hours and yet the dream felt like it lasted two minutes. His new position has Nickolas’s bladder screaming in protest. Nickolas groans as he stands up, not sure if he will even make it to the bathroom in time to relieve himself. Nonetheless, he holds it in until he gets to the toilet, the pressure of his bladder vanishes as the sound of a waterfall in his bathroom hits his ears.
Toilet flushed, Nickolas washes his hands and chucks on some sweatpants. He stumbles out to the kitchen to make himself some food. He sits down on his couch, munching on a bowl of cereal and turns the TV on to distract his mind.
At 10.45 a.m., he figures he should probably start getting ready for work. Although he showered last night, having another will help wake him up from his restless night of dreams. He gets in under the spray, the hot water running down his back, soaking his hair as it flattens against his forehead as water droplets land on his eyelashes. He brings his right hand up to his heart and traces the tattoo on his left pec muscle. Whenever he feels on edge, tracing the tattoo always seems to calm his pounding heart and racing mind. He washes quickly, not having time to dawdle since he’s due back at the ward for a 12 p.m. start.
The cold air hits him as he exits the shower, goosebumps litter his skin as he runs the towel over his body to dry off and hopefully warm up. He finds a clean uniform set in his draws, throws them on the bed as he gets dressed in dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt and his denim jacket. Taking the uniform into the kitchen to pack into his backpack, Nickolas finds the last frozen meal in the freezer, a tin of BBQ Pringles, and a muesli bar. He makes a note to do some grocery shopping tomorrow since he’ll have time before his night shift.
Nickolas is one of the few employees who doesn’t mind working doubles. Everyone else has families to go home to or partners to spend time with. He doesn’t mind taking on the extra work so they don’t have to miss out. Sometimes he wonders if he will ever be in the position where he can say, ‘Sorry, I can’t work that day, I’ve got a date.’ He shakes his head and reminds himself that he needs to stop working first if he wishes to find someone who would want to go on a date with him. So, really, no, that day won’t be coming around any time soon.
Remembering to leave some food out for Socks, he fills her bowl and then bends down to give her a quick scratch behind the ears and a kiss on her head.
Today’s car ride seemed even quicker than the ones before. He didn’t speed, he got stopped at some traffic lights, and yet suddenly he was scanning his ID to open the boom gate to park his car. Clouds are rolling in, making the outside feel just as gloomy as inside the ward.
He walks in, the front desk occupied by Brett and Jasmine talking. Nickolas tries hard not to roll his eyes, not ready to face any bullshit Brett will no doubt throw his way.
Jasmine looks up, doing her job as a receptionist to greet everyone that walks through the automatic doors. ‘Hey, Nickolas.’
‘Hey, Jasmine. Feeling better today?’
‘Like a whole new person. I guess finally being in the third trimester has fixed the nausea.’
She buzzes the button to open the side door to let him in. Jasmine has one of those friendly faces that calms anyone that walks through the door. She also knows how to read people and that’s why Nickolas loves working with her. Jasmine can tell when Nickolas just wants to keep his head down and get the job done, or when he’s happy to stand around for a minute or two and chat. She also knows that Nickolas can only tolerate so much of Brett, and she is rushing him through to get him out of his presence as quickly as possible. Nickolas steps through the door and heads straight to the lockers. Considering he was ready to punch Brett in the face on Tuesday, he just needs to avoid him for the next three hours before Brett heads home for the day. Shouldn’t be too difficult.
Darren is in the locker room putting his bag away as Nickolas walks in and makes his way to his locker.
‘Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?’ Darren asks.
‘No one. Just had a shit sleep.’
‘You know, the best way to sleep is with a warm body beside you.’
Nickolas holds his middle finger up and aims it over his shoulder in Darren’s direction.
‘Just saying, offer is on the table.’
Nickolas takes his jacket off and hangs it in his locker. He pulls his shirt over his head and throws it in his bag before he pulls out his purple cotton shirt and puts it on in its place. He kicks off his shoes and unbuttons his jeans. Nickolas pulls them off from the ankles and slips into his purple cotton pants. Yep, he looks like a walking fucking eggplant.
In the break room, he puts his food in the freezer and notices a plate of blueberry muffins sitting on the table. He takes one, eating it quickly so he can make his way toward the common room. Unfortunately, he isn’t quick enough as he’s still chewing the muffin when Brett enters the break room.
Brett looks towards Nickolas, scoffing at the crumbs stuck to Nickolas’s lips. ‘I thought gay guys treated their bodies like temples or some shit.’
Nickolas bites his tongue.
‘Met the new patient today. Looks like just another kid that used his mental illness as an excuse to become an addict,’ comments Brett.
‘What?’ Nickolas didn’t care that he spat crumbs onto the floor. The only new male patient they have is Finn, which means Brett’s comment was directed at him.
‘Yeah. Heard him talking to the chick that would rather eat her fork than her food about taking drugs as payment or some shit like that. I don’t know. Because I didn’t recognise him, he piqued my interest, but then I got bored and tuned out.’
Nothing about that sentence was comforting – especially not Brett taking an interest in Finn. He walked out of the break room and made his way toward the common room.
Inside, Hayley and Darren are interacting with some of the patients. Sky and Dot are in the dining area, getting it ready for lunch, but Nickolas’s eyes roam the room until they land on the bright red hair connected to porcelain skin that’s dotted with freckles. Finn. Nickolas slowly makes his way over to him, curious as to why he is curled in on himself while sitting alone looking out the window.
‘Didn’t feel like sitting with your friends today?’ Nickolas takes the empty chair across from Finn. His wrists are still bandaged, and Nickolas makes a mental note to check to see if they have been cleaned and rebandaged this morning.
‘Watching TV for a couple of hours and sharing our feelings in a forced group therapy session doesn’t make them my friends.’ Finn’s words have no heat in them. They are coming out slow, monotone. Almost like he is daydreaming.
‘Fair enough. But they sure can help the time go quickly around here. Beats watching the clouds move in the sky.’ He follows Finn’s line of sight, the window offering a view of the black clouds that are shifting.
‘Whatever.’ Finn brings his legs closer to his chest and hisses a little, the motion causing him discomfort.
‘You okay? You hurt somewhere?’
‘It’s the meds. It’s always the fucking meds.’
Nickolas opens his mouth to speak but Dot interrupts the room.
‘You can now make your way into the dining area for lunch.’
Nickolas turns back to Finn, who hasn’t moved a muscle.
‘Come on, time to eat.’
‘Not hungry.’
‘Well, you got to eat, man. Let’s go.’ He stands but Finn doesn’t budge. The room is almost empty. Nickolas looks over to Dot who is giving him a look to see if he needs assistance, but he waves her off. She walks into the dining area, leaving Nickolas and Finn alone in the room.
Nickolas steps in front of Finn and squats down so they are at the same height. ‘I get starting medication for bipolar isn’t a walk in the park, but I don’t want this to be any harder for you than it already is. So, I’d rather you walk in that room and take a few mouthfuls of food so no one comes back to me and instructs me to force-feed you.’
Nickolas stands back up, looking down at Finn and holds his hand out to help him rise from his chair. With a roll of his eyes, Finn takes Nickolas’s hand and Nickolas tries to ignore the warm electricity that shoots up his spine from the touch. It feels exactly like his dream, Finn’s hand in his, giving each other strength and warmth. He gives Finn’s arm a slight pull to help lift him off the chair, catching the way Finn tries to mask his pain as he stands up on his shaky legs.
‘You good to walk?’
‘Yeah.’
Considering Finn’s persistence at being fine, he doesn’t let go of Nickolas’s hand. They take their time shuffling towards the door to the dining area. Nickolas finds the closest seat for Finn to sit down at while he goes to collect a tray of food for him.
‘What’s on the menu today, Aiden?’ asks Nickolas.
‘Chicken and corn soup. Bread roll and chocolate pudding,’ Aiden happily replies.
‘Perfect,’ says Nickolas.
Aiden nods toward Finn. ‘He okay?’
Nickolas didn’t even have to turn around to see who Aiden was referring to. ‘Yeah. Medication side effects. Hopefully, this will help.’
He takes the tray back over to Finn who keeps his eyes on the table as the soup gets pushed in front of him.
‘Even if you just eat the broth, it will help.’ Nickolas explains.
Finn carefully picks up the plastic spoon, swirling the soup around in his bowl.
‘You going to count how many spoonfuls I take?’
‘If I have to. But I’m going to put some trust in you while I go over to talk to Dorothy. So don’t let me down.’
Nickolas steps away and finds Dot guarding the entry while watching over everyone in the room.
‘He doing okay?’ She keeps her voice low. It’s never easy for patients to overhear the orderlies talking about them, even when they know that’s what they are all doing.
‘From what I can tell. This morning would have been the second dose of his medication, but it’s obviously affecting him.’
‘Six months being off them, it would be a shock to his system. Like starting at square one.’
Nickolas glances over at Finn, pleased to see him take a mouthful of soup, chicken and corn included.
‘No issues during the night?’ asks Nickolas.
‘From what I heard, everything went smoothly. Apparently, Cora was up singing, said she had to sing goodnight to the voices in order for them to allow her to sleep. But nothing too concerning.’
Dot gives Nickolas a quick side glance.
He smiles softly at her and makes his way back over to Finn. The spoon is now resting on the tray.
‘Not bad. You even found room for the chocolate pudding,’ says Nickolas.
‘If there is one thing I’ve learnt growing up with five siblings, you always eat the dessert first.’
‘Five, wow. Looks like we both come from families that couldn’t keep it in their pants.’
‘Or didn’t believe in birth control.’
Nickolas laughs.
‘Touché. It is the South Side. Money would rather be spent on booze than condoms.’
Finn lets out a small chuckle.
People are already packing up, the other orderlies checking over the cutlery as they hand their trays in, making their way towards Dot at the door to head back into the common room.
‘God, I really don’t feel like more fucking therapy today,’ Finn explains.
‘You had a session this morning?’
‘Yep. The best way to wake up in the morning is to replace your coffee with medication and a one-on-one with a shrink.’
‘Ya just got to sit there. The therapist can mark your name off a list to show you’re following your regimen.’
‘For today maybe. If I actually want to get out of this joint, participation is expected.’
‘Then do it.’ Nickolas takes a seat in front of Finn and waits for him to look up from the table. ‘Look, Finn. No one is judging you in there except yourself. So, whatever is holding you back, just remember that you’ll never see any of these people ever again and all they want to do is help you so you can leave.’
‘How is group therapy meant to help? We’re all in here for different reasons.’
‘True. But when you had your evaluation, they obviously thought you could somehow benefit from it. Maybe it’ll help with socialisation, trust, hearing how others cope when they leave.’
Finn scoffs. ‘If they coped so well they wouldn’t be back here.’
‘Exactly. Do you want to follow in their footsteps?’
Finn looks up.
‘Didn’t think so. Just – give it a go, Finn. Everyone here wants you to be able to leave and live your life.’
Once again Finn and Nickolas are left sitting alone in an empty room. Nickolas stands, making his way to the exit while waiting for Finn to follow him. The chairs are laid out, waiting for those in group to take a seat. Some have gone to take toilet breaks before the session begins while Darren, Hayley and Sky have begun to take those not participating back to their rooms.
Finn stands up, slowly making his way towards Nickolas and reaches out to grab his elbow. ‘I want to get better. I just fucking hate that this is my life now.’
Nickolas helps Finn walk towards the chairs. ‘Won’t be like this forever. Once you find the perfect cocktail to help manage your bipolar, you can actually live a pretty boring life, just like the rest of us.’
Finn gives him a scowl.
Brett opens the door to the bathroom after one of the patients has finished and calls out to the group. ‘Anyone else? If you piss your pants you can stay in them till shower time.’
Finn leans into Nickolas. ‘He’s kidding right?’
