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His bed smelled like shit. His whole room smelled like shit. Tavish smelled like shit.
He thought he’d get used to it, but the stench of vomit that greeted his nostrils every time he approached his bedroom door never seemed to wane. Even if nobody was watching, he couldn’t face the shame of cringing at his own stink. The sight of piles of unfolded clothes and dust-coated dressers that waited for him behind the door did nothing to soothe him.
Unable to face his demons in the form of stains on his bedsheets, Tavish sat on the old, creaky porch swing outside the base as he drank the night away, watching the sunset, bottles at his feet. The flat and blurry view of the orange sky burning out occupied his senses, the subtle ache in his gut only an afterthought. He took another swig of scrumpy.
If he were at home, his mother would’ve hit him upside the head at least an hour ago. Gotta be productive. No time to stare at the sun until your last eye melts. That’s how it was ever since he was born.
Normally the thought of his mother got him to his feet, but it’d done nothing but annoy him recently. He had a job that paid more than he’d ever be able to wrap his head around. Wasn’t that enough?
Bringing the bottle to his lips yet again, a pathetic amount poured out before being fully drained. Tavish, despite how the knot in his stomach protested, leaned forward to search for an unopened bottle in the sea of alcohol he had created at his feet. In his drunken stupor, his grip on the empty bottle slipped, causing it to loudly shatter on the concrete. Tavish could only grunt in displeasure.
Ignoring the pieces of broken glass scattered on the ground, he grabbed a full bottle and wasted no time opening it, leaning back into the swing. This was all he needed. He’d be okay like this. He’d be fine.
Light purple faded into the sky above, letting the stars peek out to watch the world below. Going inside felt like a bad idea. Sleeping on the porch might be uncomfortable, but it’s far from the worst place he’s fallen asleep. It’s fine.
While Tavish was pondering the chances of the worn porch swing collapsing in his sleep, the door to the base creaked open, and Engineer, missing his goggles and helmet, poked out.
“Everythin’ alright?” Engineer asked. He then noticed the numerous bottle shards near Tavish’s feet. “Oh. I thought one of them lights must’ve fell. What’re ya doin’ out here?”
Tavish’s mouth couldn’t be bothered to spit out a decent excuse, so he simply waved his bottle to gesture instead. Engineer hummed.
“Well, you should probably head inside right about now, especially if yer drunk enough to start breakin’ bottles. Somebody’s gotta clean that up.”
Eyebrows furrowing, Tavish attempted to tell Engineer to mind his own bloody business, but the words came out as garbled mumbles, incomprehensible to even himself.
Engineer frowned, looking unimpressed. “Yer feelin’ moody, huh?”
His brain too fuzzy to form words, Tavish settled for giving Engineer the bird. Engineer simply sighed and strolled back inside.
Tavish didn’t need someone to tell him if he was too drunk. So what if he was? That’s his own problem. He’s not a child with a curfew. He’ll clean up the glass shards eventually.
Staring at the shards beneath his feet, he was reminded of the state of his room. He really should clean it, but he hasn’t. It never seems worth it to him. He’s always too drunk and too tired. Whenever he stayed in there for too long, he felt as if he was rotting away just like all the food he’s kept in there and forgotten about.
The glass would probably be forgotten about too, and stay right where it was for months. He’d see it everyday but never get himself to clean it up. The porch was going to turn out to be just like his room. Nothing would change.
The door opened once again, but instead of the gentle creak that came from Engineer, a loud slam rang out. Tavish looked over, bewildered, to see a sharp and alert Soldier analyzing him with a scowl, and Engineer leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin.
“What do you think you’re doing, maggot? We have a war to fight tomorrow!” Soldier shouted. Tavish sighed in annoyance and leaned his head against the back of the swing. His ears hurt.
Soldier stomped over to Tavish, knocking over bottles in the process, and stood in front of him.
“Good soldiers don’t slump! They stand tall and proud!” Soldier grabbed each of Tavish’s arms and yanked him off of the swing. Tavish crashed into Soldier, gasping and almost knocking both of them over. Soldier roughly patted him on the back and began to speak, but Tavish couldn’t process it with how the dizziness was causing his stomach to swirl.
As quickly as he could, he threw himself to the porch’s fence, puking over the edge and onto the desert sand. His head was spinning as bitterness settled on his tongue. Great.
Soldier peeked over the railing to look at the vomit below.
“Hmm. Better here than in the warzone, I suppose,” he muttered.
Engineer walked to Tavish’s other side, also peering down.
“Well, if it isn’t Pyro’s pancakes,” he chuckled. Tavish couldn’t remember if he had eaten anything else that day.
His gut twisted up again, and another wave of vomit rained down. Engineer rubbed his back. Tavish was torn between demanding he get away and asking him to never stop.
“Soldier, why don’t ya get our friend here a bottle of water?” Engineer said, a smile evident in his voice.
“We have bottles of water?”
“Uh, yeah, in the fridge.”
“Alright! I will be back.”
As Soldier marched away, Tavish and Engineer were left in silence. Head hanging over the railing, Tavish refused to meet Engineer’s eyes.
The hand on his back continued. He felt like a child. Was he so incompetent that he needed someone to give him a backrub? Was he incompetent for enjoying it?
“Tell ya what,” Engineer began, “I’ll clean up this whole mess as long as you clean up yours.” He tapped Tavish’s head for emphasis.
There was no way Tavish could sort out whatever was wrong with his brain. He didn’t know why he could never get himself to clean his room, or do his laundry, or eat properly, or stop drinking when he should. His brain didn’t work the way it should. He couldn’t fix that.
But maybe Engineer could help.
He belched.
“I’ll take that as a yes, partner.”