"A Sanctuary Safe and Strong"(Marianas Trench)

Chapter 36

Taking the long way home, he drove slowly down any side roads he could, just to draw out the drive as long as possible. The back roads were riddled with dips and uneven pavement, and somehow he managed to hit nearly every rough spot while he was busy doing his best to avoid going home. The bouncing jarred the blond's body in a way that made his eyes cross and his breath catch in his throat, and he groaned quietly every time the car hit a pothole, but it was almost, not quite, but almost, worth it.  

He knew there was a bit of a time crunch, but he still wasn't too sure about facing his home all by himself. It was morning, the sun was out and he was okay, so far. The singer had no reason to believe that things would suddenly take a turn for the worst once he was there, so he might as well just face the fucking music and get it over with. 

Josh pulled into the parking lot and stepped out of the car, key to his front door at the ready. Do it, do it, do it, he silently repeated with every footfall until he reached the door. Jamming the key into the lock, he turned it until he heard the tell-tale click, the one that signified that all he had to do was twist the knob and he'd be face-to-face with what sent him running in the first place. 

Sucking in a deep breath, Josh pushed the door open and stepped inside, slamming it shut behind him to make as much noise as he could, filling the house with sound and vibrations rather than letting the silence suffocate him. Anything that might help was worth a try, he figured as he stomped his way through the rooms and over to the stairs. Climbing them quickly, he refused, flat out denied himself the opportunity to look around or let himself think too much about where he was.  

He went straight to his bedroom and dropped his bag onto the bed, unzipping it and turning it upside down. Clothing spilled out in a pile onto the bed, and the blond didn't stop to pick up what fell to the floor, nor did he bother to move the dirty clothes into the hamper where they should have been placed. He just didn't care. He couldn't let himself worry about something that minor right now, even though keeping himself busy would have helped to keep his mind off of where he was and why that dreaded feeling was once again settled in the pit of his stomach. 

Josh turned his back on the bed and the dirty clothing, opening one dresser drawer then another, pulling out clean socks and underwear and dropping them into the bag until the drawers were practically empty, save for a few random articles left in the bottom drawer that he couldn't be bothered to drag out. If anyone else saw this, they'd think he was moving. He didn't even pack this much when he went on tour with the band, but he didn't know how long he might be gone, and he wanted to be as prepared for anything as he possibly could. 

Abandoning the dresser, he moved over to the closet and pulled the doors open. Reaching his hand in, the singer yanked one thing after another off the hangers and tossed them into the bag as well. He truly didn't own a lot of clothing, generally preferring to stick to old favourites like novelty tshirts and jeans that made his ass look great and his legs look a mile long. But this time, he couldn't be too picky and he took anything he could get his hand on, whether he actually liked it or not. Tshirts, long sleeve shirts, hooded sweatshirts, loose, comfortable jeans and two pairs of sneakers. The final thing he added was a jacket. Once the sutures came out of his shoulder and he was in physical therapy, he'd be able to move his right arm again, allowing him to be able to put on more normal weather-appropriate clothing without too much of a hassle. He hoped. 

Josh leaned down, folding down the arms of the jacket and squishing everything in as tightly as he could so he could get the zipper closed. He couldn't think of anything else he needed, though he felt fairly certain that he would come up with something else once he was back at the studio. But, no matter. If he had to go to physical therapy once a week, he could always pick it up the next time he was at the condo seven days later when he pulled the same yeah-I'm-living-here-all-by-myself-look-at-me-go! stunt he was pulling today. There was nothing he couldn't do without until then.