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[josdyrason]

“Það er, mamma, ég vil að þú og João geti sofið,” Jos replies with a gentle, steady tone to their mother, moving to get up from the seat and come over to her side once more, giving her hand a squeeze of affirmation, looking over at Luca, still looking like...shit, and looking out of it, feeling like...maybe in the morning, they could figure shit out better.

The Mess He Made [November 21, 2018]

IN PROGRESS

—2 A.M. —

Jos makes their way out of the cab, a heavy fatigue settled within their body as they make their way into the hospital, running off of caffeine and sheer willpower alone after having to cut things short with Clem’s family the minute they had heard from their mother, the shit that….mmm, gritting their teeth a bit as they steel themself to remain awake as they make their way through the ghostly, sterile environment that always seemed that much more haunting in these early hours, haunting wisps of memories floating along the edges of their consciousness like a dark fog even as…immediately meeting their mother in a deep, tight, hug as soon as they meet, holding her in the embrace for as long as she wanted, needed, finding his own comfort in it in the moment in spite of everything, and the fucking…shit, the wake of destruction that He always seemed to bring, that even to this day, they couldn’t seem to escape from, but still…a small subtle flicker of something moving through them in spite of the deep frustration, heaviness, and other clusterfuck that came with it as they release a breath through their nostrils… “Ég er hér núna,“ their tone coming out low, yet soft, delicate even as they continue to hold her, wanting her to know that, first and foremost, before…finally breathing out the question still circling around their mind, just wanting to know, if… “Einhverjar fréttir?“ The words coming out a near whisper, almost not…wanting to breathe them into existence, to know, when knowing could…the heavy feeling of being part of this dance before, just…resting there, in the pit of their stomach, as it did, as it had, centering themself within the embrace and not within…those pieces of memory that served no…purpose here, in the here and now, within this delicate limbo.

[josdyrason]

Jos gives a nod of their head at the softly spoken words, giving their mother’s hand another reassuring squeeze as they....prepare, steel, themself, to have the same scene replay itself once again, a sickly feeling frothing in the pit of their stomach as it all settles, breathing in...and out, trying to remain centered, as their eyes meet with Luca’s, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, but at the same time, like no more than a day, time feeling compressed in that moment like it had been folded like paper between the last time and...now, a small but harsh breath cutting through their lips as they wait for the doctor to exit...letting João have his moment, silently waiting as their mother eventually joins him, moving to sit down in the chair as they take Luca’s phone out of their pocket, finding the number, MJ, and opening up the texts, taking them in for a few beats until a dull throbbing moving through their head as they feel their eyes drooping, the whole day just...catching up to them in the moment as they rest their head in their palm, silently rubbing their eye for a few beats to try and just... “Ég get gist hérna um nóttina, svo þú getir farið heim,” Jos decides, as they look over at their mother, figuring they could...make it work, to sleep there, hell, they’d slept in worse places, so that their mother and Joāo could get some good sleep, sure they needed it, and so maybe...in the morning, they could...make sure that Luca got back to MJ, if he was able to...a small yawn involuntarily escaping from their lips before they could contain it...

The Mess He Made [November 21, 2018]

IN PROGRESS

—2 A.M. —

Jos makes their way out of the cab, a heavy fatigue settled within their body as they make their way into the hospital, running off of caffeine and sheer willpower alone after having to cut things short with Clem’s family the minute they had heard from their mother, the shit that….mmm, gritting their teeth a bit as they steel themself to remain awake as they make their way through the ghostly, sterile environment that always seemed that much more haunting in these early hours, haunting wisps of memories floating along the edges of their consciousness like a dark fog even as…immediately meeting their mother in a deep, tight, hug as soon as they meet, holding her in the embrace for as long as she wanted, needed, finding his own comfort in it in the moment in spite of everything, and the fucking…shit, the wake of destruction that He always seemed to bring, that even to this day, they couldn’t seem to escape from, but still…a small subtle flicker of something moving through them in spite of the deep frustration, heaviness, and other clusterfuck that came with it as they release a breath through their nostrils… “Ég er hér núna,“ their tone coming out low, yet soft, delicate even as they continue to hold her, wanting her to know that, first and foremost, before…finally breathing out the question still circling around their mind, just wanting to know, if… “Einhverjar fréttir?“ The words coming out a near whisper, almost not…wanting to breathe them into existence, to know, when knowing could…the heavy feeling of being part of this dance before, just…resting there, in the pit of their stomach, as it did, as it had, centering themself within the embrace and not within…those pieces of memory that served no…purpose here, in the here and now, within this delicate limbo.

[josdyrason]

Jos clicks the phone off as they finally release a heavy fucking stream of breath, putting the phone into their pocket before leaning their head against the wall as their palms move over their face, just....fucccccckkk, just feeling even more...shit, in the moment, after that whole thing, and worried, and fucking...pissed, somewhere deep within them, at Fucking Luca fucking up again, running around like a bull through a china shop without any regard for the consequences of shit, the shit it did to other people, the...releasing another stream of breath through their nostrils as they cut off that whole train of thought in its tracks, trying to center themself, to be calm, to be a rock, for their mother and Joāo, in this absolute hell of a time, taking another breath in, a more gentle, controlled one this time, and then another, another...before finally feeling steady enough to walk back over, making their way to their mother’s side as they take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Einhverjar fréttir?”

The Mess He Made [November 21, 2018]

IN PROGRESS

—2 A.M. —

Jos makes their way out of the cab, a heavy fatigue settled within their body as they make their way into the hospital, running off of caffeine and sheer willpower alone after having to cut things short with Clem’s family the minute they had heard from their mother, the shit that….mmm, gritting their teeth a bit as they steel themself to remain awake as they make their way through the ghostly, sterile environment that always seemed that much more haunting in these early hours, haunting wisps of memories floating along the edges of their consciousness like a dark fog even as…immediately meeting their mother in a deep, tight, hug as soon as they meet, holding her in the embrace for as long as she wanted, needed, finding his own comfort in it in the moment in spite of everything, and the fucking…shit, the wake of destruction that He always seemed to bring, that even to this day, they couldn’t seem to escape from, but still…a small subtle flicker of something moving through them in spite of the deep frustration, heaviness, and other clusterfuck that came with it as they release a breath through their nostrils… “Ég er hér núna,“ their tone coming out low, yet soft, delicate even as they continue to hold her, wanting her to know that, first and foremost, before…finally breathing out the question still circling around their mind, just wanting to know, if… “Einhverjar fréttir?“ The words coming out a near whisper, almost not…wanting to breathe them into existence, to know, when knowing could…the heavy feeling of being part of this dance before, just…resting there, in the pit of their stomach, as it did, as it had, centering themself within the embrace and not within…those pieces of memory that served no…purpose here, in the here and now, within this delicate limbo.

[josdyrason]

“....okay,” Jos resigns themself in the moment, hoping it wasn’t anything that...was urgent or she should be waiting on Luca for, not knowing about the exact situation or when the next time he actually could talk to her was, but... “I can do that,” they promise, wanting to at least...do that for her, if nothing else, giving MJ their own phone number, just in case she needed it, not knowing how long they were going to have Luca’s phone or if Luca was just gonna...ignore whatever hell he was currently putting this poor girl through, and just... “Same here, MJ, text me if you need anything,” they remind, moving to silently release a breath as they rub their hand along their eye, feeling...fucking awful right now, but wanting to give her...some sort of optimism in spite of it. “...we’ll get through this, ok?” They offer out, not sure if it would be helpful or just...another platitude, but still...

The Mess He Made [November 21, 2018]

IN PROGRESS

—2 A.M. —

Jos makes their way out of the cab, a heavy fatigue settled within their body as they make their way into the hospital, running off of caffeine and sheer willpower alone after having to cut things short with Clem’s family the minute they had heard from their mother, the shit that….mmm, gritting their teeth a bit as they steel themself to remain awake as they make their way through the ghostly, sterile environment that always seemed that much more haunting in these early hours, haunting wisps of memories floating along the edges of their consciousness like a dark fog even as…immediately meeting their mother in a deep, tight, hug as soon as they meet, holding her in the embrace for as long as she wanted, needed, finding his own comfort in it in the moment in spite of everything, and the fucking…shit, the wake of destruction that He always seemed to bring, that even to this day, they couldn’t seem to escape from, but still…a small subtle flicker of something moving through them in spite of the deep frustration, heaviness, and other clusterfuck that came with it as they release a breath through their nostrils… “Ég er hér núna,“ their tone coming out low, yet soft, delicate even as they continue to hold her, wanting her to know that, first and foremost, before…finally breathing out the question still circling around their mind, just wanting to know, if… “Einhverjar fréttir?“ The words coming out a near whisper, almost not…wanting to breathe them into existence, to know, when knowing could…the heavy feeling of being part of this dance before, just…resting there, in the pit of their stomach, as it did, as it had, centering themself within the embrace and not within…those pieces of memory that served no…purpose here, in the here and now, within this delicate limbo.

[josdyrason]

“...Yeah.” Answering both her questions, in one go, the name, the way she said it, making them half wonder if she was...a fan, the thought almost...pissing them off a bit, somewhere, like a pin prick of fucking...anger, at Luca being a fucking skítur...in the middle of this all, finding it hard not to feel a bit for the girl on the other end of the line...tilting their head to look back over towards their mother and João, seeing them still talking with the doctor... “...don’t think he can right now,” they reply, trying to keep their tone soft, in spite of the heavy fatigue they were feeling, the fucking... “...but I’m here, you can talk to me, ok?” Not wanting her to feel alone when there was...Serious Shit going on, whatever that was.

The Mess He Made [November 21, 2018]

IN PROGRESS

—2 A.M. —

Jos makes their way out of the cab, a heavy fatigue settled within their body as they make their way into the hospital, running off of caffeine and sheer willpower alone after having to cut things short with Clem’s family the minute they had heard from their mother, the shit that….mmm, gritting their teeth a bit as they steel themself to remain awake as they make their way through the ghostly, sterile environment that always seemed that much more haunting in these early hours, haunting wisps of memories floating along the edges of their consciousness like a dark fog even as…immediately meeting their mother in a deep, tight, hug as soon as they meet, holding her in the embrace for as long as she wanted, needed, finding his own comfort in it in the moment in spite of everything, and the fucking…shit, the wake of destruction that He always seemed to bring, that even to this day, they couldn’t seem to escape from, but still…a small subtle flicker of something moving through them in spite of the deep frustration, heaviness, and other clusterfuck that came with it as they release a breath through their nostrils… “Ég er hér núna,“ their tone coming out low, yet soft, delicate even as they continue to hold her, wanting her to know that, first and foremost, before…finally breathing out the question still circling around their mind, just wanting to know, if… “Einhverjar fréttir?“ The words coming out a near whisper, almost not…wanting to breathe them into existence, to know, when knowing could…the heavy feeling of being part of this dance before, just…resting there, in the pit of their stomach, as it did, as it had, centering themself within the embrace and not within…those pieces of memory that served no…purpose here, in the here and now, within this delicate limbo.

[josdyrason]

Jos pauses for a moment, half considering for a moment if they should use Cisco’s name, unsure who this person on the other end of the line was, looking down at the contact name, MJ, who was that? Not needing them to know...fjölskyldu details that the world was not privvy to, nor needed to be privvy to, but still...it was true, once, anyway, that they were a bróðir to Luca, even before things became the way they were now, even before... “Jos.” Letting the person on the other end take that as they would, that they weren’t Cisco nor Nicklaus, but not wanting to lie...before hearing the softness in her tone. “He’s...sick,” they settles on, not a lie either, as they feel a small breath move from their chest, as they rub their eye a bit, letting their own tone soften a bit, to get back to this whole serious shit, especially when this girl clearly sounded very young and...scared, not having the heart to feel frustrated at her for any of the shit, even as the underlying weight of just...fuck, with Luca still carried within them. “...but what’s going on with you? Serious shit? Everything ok?”

The Mess He Made [November 21, 2018]

IN PROGRESS

—2 A.M. —

Jos makes their way out of the cab, a heavy fatigue settled within their body as they make their way into the hospital, running off of caffeine and sheer willpower alone after having to cut things short with Clem’s family the minute they had heard from their mother, the shit that….mmm, gritting their teeth a bit as they steel themself to remain awake as they make their way through the ghostly, sterile environment that always seemed that much more haunting in these early hours, haunting wisps of memories floating along the edges of their consciousness like a dark fog even as…immediately meeting their mother in a deep, tight, hug as soon as they meet, holding her in the embrace for as long as she wanted, needed, finding his own comfort in it in the moment in spite of everything, and the fucking…shit, the wake of destruction that He always seemed to bring, that even to this day, they couldn’t seem to escape from, but still…a small subtle flicker of something moving through them in spite of the deep frustration, heaviness, and other clusterfuck that came with it as they release a breath through their nostrils… “Ég er hér núna,“ their tone coming out low, yet soft, delicate even as they continue to hold her, wanting her to know that, first and foremost, before…finally breathing out the question still circling around their mind, just wanting to know, if… “Einhverjar fréttir?“ The words coming out a near whisper, almost not…wanting to breathe them into existence, to know, when knowing could…the heavy feeling of being part of this dance before, just…resting there, in the pit of their stomach, as it did, as it had, centering themself within the embrace and not within…those pieces of memory that served no…purpose here, in the here and now, within this delicate limbo.

[josdyrason]

“Luca’s...brother.” The word coming out almost strained, in the moment, but it was...true, legally, and for his móðir, it was...mm, cutting off that whole train of thought before it could even begin and trying to get what was remaining of his ability to focus centered in on This, this...whatever, trying to stifle another yawn. “He’s not...well, right now,” he settles on, not sure when the media would catch wind of this or if they perhaps already had but also not wanting to...go into it, any more than necessary... “But I’m here to help with whatever...serious shit is, while he can’t be,” they resign themself to saying, because what the fuck else were they going to do, but try and...help sort whatever the fuck mess Luca had created, again, blearily rubbing their eye as they lean their head back against the wall, fucking hell...

The Mess He Made [November 21, 2018]

IN PROGRESS

—2 A.M. —

Jos makes their way out of the cab, a heavy fatigue settled within their body as they make their way into the hospital, running off of caffeine and sheer willpower alone after having to cut things short with Clem’s family the minute they had heard from their mother, the shit that….mmm, gritting their teeth a bit as they steel themself to remain awake as they make their way through the ghostly, sterile environment that always seemed that much more haunting in these early hours, haunting wisps of memories floating along the edges of their consciousness like a dark fog even as…immediately meeting their mother in a deep, tight, hug as soon as they meet, holding her in the embrace for as long as she wanted, needed, finding his own comfort in it in the moment in spite of everything, and the fucking…shit, the wake of destruction that He always seemed to bring, that even to this day, they couldn’t seem to escape from, but still…a small subtle flicker of something moving through them in spite of the deep frustration, heaviness, and other clusterfuck that came with it as they release a breath through their nostrils… “Ég er hér núna,“ their tone coming out low, yet soft, delicate even as they continue to hold her, wanting her to know that, first and foremost, before…finally breathing out the question still circling around their mind, just wanting to know, if… “Einhverjar fréttir?“ The words coming out a near whisper, almost not…wanting to breathe them into existence, to know, when knowing could…the heavy feeling of being part of this dance before, just…resting there, in the pit of their stomach, as it did, as it had, centering themself within the embrace and not within…those pieces of memory that served no…purpose here, in the here and now, within this delicate limbo.

[josdyrason]

Hey. Jos hears the voice from the other end of the phone, before hearing more, the question registering First, a bit of...annoyance, piercing through them in the moment, that someone was this pressed about some fucking...herfangssímtal (booty call) when their mom was fucking...before a small breath moves through them as it registers that the voice on the other end sounded...young, almost...nervous, leaning against the wall in the private little spot in the weighting room as they rub their hand against their eye, just...fuck, the fatigue really setting in, heiðarlegur við guð...hearing the serious carry through the other end of the phone with a heavy weight attached to it...not sure what to...fucking make of it, in light of everything, half wanting to just let the person on the other end of the phone know that now wasn’t a fucking good time but also...the other half of them...not knowing what kind of serious serious shit might be and...fucking hell, “...what kind of Serious Shit?” Jos finds themself asking in a low, gravelly sleepy tone, trying to stifle a yawn forming, and just...focus, on...another one of Luca’s messes that they were cleaning up again, they find themself musing, as part of the humorless joke this all seemed to be, of...being back to cleaning up Luca’s Messes, again, the whole...whatever of the whole thing not lost on them in the moment even as their mind lags a bit with the fatigue of the day weighing them down, as they wait for the response on the other end of the line.

The Mess He Made [November 21, 2018]

IN PROGRESS

—2 A.M. —

Jos makes their way out of the cab, a heavy fatigue settled within their body as they make their way into the hospital, running off of caffeine and sheer willpower alone after having to cut things short with Clem’s family the minute they had heard from their mother, the shit that….mmm, gritting their teeth a bit as they steel themself to remain awake as they make their way through the ghostly, sterile environment that always seemed that much more haunting in these early hours, haunting wisps of memories floating along the edges of their consciousness like a dark fog even as…immediately meeting their mother in a deep, tight, hug as soon as they meet, holding her in the embrace for as long as she wanted, needed, finding his own comfort in it in the moment in spite of everything, and the fucking…shit, the wake of destruction that He always seemed to bring, that even to this day, they couldn’t seem to escape from, but still…a small subtle flicker of something moving through them in spite of the deep frustration, heaviness, and other clusterfuck that came with it as they release a breath through their nostrils… “Ég er hér núna,“ their tone coming out low, yet soft, delicate even as they continue to hold her, wanting her to know that, first and foremost, before…finally breathing out the question still circling around their mind, just wanting to know, if… “Einhverjar fréttir?“ The words coming out a near whisper, almost not…wanting to breathe them into existence, to know, when knowing could…the heavy feeling of being part of this dance before, just…resting there, in the pit of their stomach, as it did, as it had, centering themself within the embrace and not within…those pieces of memory that served no…purpose here, in the here and now, within this delicate limbo.

[josdyrason]

Ah. The words from the doctor snapping Jos out of the heavy fog of the...uncertainty in the moment as they feel the breath that they hadn’t fully realized they were holding, the pit in their stomach knotted up like a coil finally...loosen, move through them, unravel, as they hear that... “Hann er ... allt í lagi,” Jos lowly, softly, translates for their mother, a bit...perhaps a lot, of an oversimplification, almost...too overtly optimistic, even,  given that he was just...alive, but still alive was...better than nothing, better than uncertainty, better than the alternative that always lingered like a shadow every time this...happened, even as a deep piercing frustration finally reverberates through the pit of Jos’s stomach now that they knew he was alive...for this time having put their mother through it...moving to take their mother’s hand to give it a squeeze, wanting to...reassure her, ease some of the pain, worry they could tell she was feeling, hearing João speak some final words to the doctor before...a vibrating sound cuts through the heavy air still looming in the space between them, catching sight of the phone...ringing, on one of the tables in the waiting room, waiting for it to stop so they could take a moment to just...fully process everything and focus their attention back on móðir, except it...wasn’t seeming to stop, ringing not once, not twice, not thrice...continuing, hearing something from João about it being Luca’s, a weighted...bit of frustration cutting through them at whatever bullshit one of Luca’s bragð vikunnar deemed so important that...finally just taking it upon themself to end this, to let whoever on the line that it wasn’t a Good Time, their voice coming out a bit gruff and flat as they step away for a moment to take care of whatever other problem Luca had made. “...hello?”

The Mess He Made [November 21, 2018]

IN PROGRESS

—2 A.M. —

Jos makes their way out of the cab, a heavy fatigue settled within their body as they make their way into the hospital, running off of caffeine and sheer willpower alone after having to cut things short with Clem’s family the minute they had heard from their mother, the shit that….mmm, gritting their teeth a bit as they steel themself to remain awake as they make their way through the ghostly, sterile environment that always seemed that much more haunting in these early hours, haunting wisps of memories floating along the edges of their consciousness like a dark fog even as…immediately meeting their mother in a deep, tight, hug as soon as they meet, holding her in the embrace for as long as she wanted, needed, finding his own comfort in it in the moment in spite of everything, and the fucking…shit, the wake of destruction that He always seemed to bring, that even to this day, they couldn’t seem to escape from, but still…a small subtle flicker of something moving through them in spite of the deep frustration, heaviness, and other clusterfuck that came with it as they release a breath through their nostrils… “Ég er hér núna,“ their tone coming out low, yet soft, delicate even as they continue to hold her, wanting her to know that, first and foremost, before…finally breathing out the question still circling around their mind, just wanting to know, if… “Einhverjar fréttir?“ The words coming out a near whisper, almost not…wanting to breathe them into existence, to know, when knowing could…the heavy feeling of being part of this dance before, just…resting there, in the pit of their stomach, as it did, as it had, centering themself within the embrace and not within…those pieces of memory that served no…purpose here, in the here and now, within this delicate limbo.

[josdyrason]

The Mess He Made [November 21, 2018]

IN PROGRESS

—2 A.M. —

Jos makes their way out of the cab, a heavy fatigue settled within their body as they make their way into the hospital, running off of caffeine and sheer willpower alone after having to cut things short with Clem’s family the minute they had heard from their mother, the shit that....mmm, gritting their teeth a bit as they steel themself to remain awake as they make their way through the ghostly, sterile environment that always seemed that much more haunting in these early hours, haunting wisps of memories floating along the edges of their consciousness like a dark fog even as...immediately meeting their mother in a deep, tight, hug as soon as they meet, holding her in the embrace for as long as she wanted, needed, finding his own comfort in it in the moment in spite of everything, and the fucking...shit, the wake of destruction that He always seemed to bring, that even to this day, they couldn’t seem to escape from, but still...a small subtle flicker of something moving through them in spite of the deep frustration, heaviness, and other clusterfuck that came with it as they release a breath through their nostrils... “Ég er hér núna,“ their tone coming out low, yet soft, delicate even as they continue to hold her, wanting her to know that, first and foremost, before...finally breathing out the question still circling around their mind, just wanting to know, if... “Einhverjar fréttir?“ The words coming out a near whisper, almost not...wanting to breathe them into existence, to know, when knowing could...the heavy feeling of being part of this dance before, just...resting there, in the pit of their stomach, as it did, as it had, centering themself within the embrace and not within...those pieces of memory that served no...purpose here, in the here and now, within this delicate limbo.