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Reki wasn't doing well - Reki isn't doing well. His lips are chapped, his throat is parched, his muscles ache, and he's tired. Reki is tired. The feeling of dirt and sweat and grime covers his skin, leaving not even an inch untouched. His hair is matted and greasy, shining in the light and tangled like a birds nest. His mouth - oh his mouth - Reki can't remember the last time he brushed his teeth. In fact, his mouth is so dry from the amount of gunk that layers and fills his mouth. His throat is scratchy, parched from being dehydrated. He's hungry, stomach aching from lack of food. But Reki can't seem to get out of bed. The amount of energy it takes to even roll on his bed makes him exhausted, let alone actually get up and leave his room. but his family is on vacation, leaving the red-head home alone with no one to check in on him. There's no one to make sure he takes care of himself.
There's a pounding in his head, and Reki can only groan in discomfort. The headache is making it impossible for him to sleep, and he's having none of it. Squeezing his eyes shut, the boy rolls over and presses the palm of his hand to his eye as he hides his head under a pillow. His bead stinks of body odor, sweat, and faintly of blood, probably due from a scrape he got while skating a while back. But he hasn't changed his sheets, so all of the grime just keeps building and building.
He hasn't changes his clothes in weeks, too tired to shower and change. So he sits in the same hoodie and sweats, hiding under blankets and sleeping the day away. That's all Reki does now. He's exhausted - emotionally, physically, and mentally. He doesn't have the capacity to text his friends, either. They were blowing up his phone the first few days, but they eventually gave up, probably thinking that it's not worth it. That, or Reki's phone died. But the charger is so far away, and Reki's muscles ache and groan with each movement.
Reki falls asleep again, headache doing nothing to keep him awake and lucid.
He wakes up to his light turning on abruptly, murmurs filling his ears, and hands rubbing at his back.
Now, Reki should be worried, but he's far to tired to care that someone else is in his home. Besides, he recognizes the calloused hands on his back - Langa's hands. Reki is starting to think he's still dreaming. And then a larger pair of hands tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, guiding the boy into a sitting position. Confused, Reki forces his eyes open, wiping away the crust that has accumulated in the corners.
And oh, Cherry and Joe are in his room, too.
"Forgot I gave you a key," he mumbles to Langa, leaning into Joe's warmth with a sigh, closing his hands again. Of course Langa has a key to his house, Reki can never seem to find his, and his mother did not want him being locked out. He just hoped Langa forgot.
He get's shushed, picked up by two very strong arms as another set of hands runs through his hair, getting caught on tangles along the way. He thinks he hears Cherry barking commands, but he isn't sure. He just leans into the hand in his hair, liking the feeling of someone caring for him. He should be embarrassed by the fact he has to be babied, but it's nice.
Reki doesn't remember anyone drawing a bath, but here he is, sat in a tub full of hot water, leaning on the side as Joe and Cherry clean him. Of course, they respect his privacy, so he is in his underwear, and there are bubbles in the bath. His eyes close at the feeling of hands running through his hair, gently scrubbing shampoo into his hair and cleaning out the grime. The fingers gently tug on the locks, working out the tangles as they clean. And oh, it feels nice to have Cherry scratch at his scalp. It's oddly parental, but what else should he expect from joe and Cherry.
Opening his eyes, Reki searches out for a familiar boy. He sees Langa lingering at the door, water and plate of fruit in hand. He looks anxious, eyes flickering over Reki's body before looking at joe for something to do. Reki closes his eyes again.
Then the hands are on his back, working soap suds into his skin and cleaning off the dirt and sweat. He should be embarrassed, but he's too tired. Reki is vaguely aware that this is not healthy, and he probably shouldn't be dissociating this much, nor should he be bed bound from a depressive episode. But he is, and he sees no problem in letting other people take care of him.
Fingers linger on his wrists and thighs, taking extra care of those areas. There's shushing and cooing paired with the gentle scrubbing of soap over the scars. Gentle circles are rubbed over the marks, tracing along the areas a blade has been. It doesn't take away the fact that Reki has hurt himself, but the effort is there. And it feels nice - the methodical press of fingers, the gentle circles, the shushing - it all feels like home. And if that doesn't bring Reki to tears...
"Shh," a voice hums, the feeling of a hand wiping away the fallen tears as Reki breaks down, choking on his own breath as he sobs. And it's not quiet or pretty, no. His face twists into a frown, eyes squeezing shut as he gasps for air, choking on tears and shaking from the sheer force of it all. A loud sob makes its way past his lips, voice breaking as his throat throbs in pain. He's dehydrated, sad, and so, so lonely. A headache beats against his skull, making him painfully aware of his neglect for self-care. His ears are ringing, body shaking, and his nails are digging into his arms as he cries.
Reki cries and cries, until he's all tuckered out and left to weak hiccups and sniffles. A cool glass of water is pressed to his lips, and he obliges, sipping on the drink to soothe the pains from dehydration. As soon as the water hits the back of his throat, soothing the ache, Reki is gulping down the water, barely taking time to breathe. The cup has to be forcefully taken away from his mouth when it's finished. But Reki drank water, and that's an accomplishment.
The sounds of people shuffling in and out of his room grab his attention. Again, Reki forces his eyes open, bleary eyes watching as Langa and Joe clean out his room, carrying dirty clothes and sheets out and into the hall before putting new blankets on his bed. The dull sound of the washer is present, but it's background noise.
Cherry tuts, pulling the plug of the bath and helping Reki up before closing the door. The older man quietly helps the boy dry off, patting his skin dry before taking care of his hair. And Reki's face bursts into flames when Cherry - the oh so stoic and selfish man - Cherry starts to change him. Reki wants to protest, to tell him that he's not a baby and can take care of himself - but he can't, because Reki's words wont come out and his head is spinning, and his arms hurt too much for him to lift them. So he lets Cherry change him into a new pair of sweats and a tee-shirt far too big on him. And it's warm.
Reki melts at that, letting the man gently guide him out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting him down. A bowl of pasta is placed in front of him - just plain noodles with butter. Oh. They knew he couldn't bear to stomach foods, so they made him something simple yet filling. And his heart hurts from this. And then a glass of orange juice is put down, and Reki thinks he's going to cry again.
He eats quietly, letting quiet praises fill his ears. He knows he'll be questioned and scolded later for not reaching out. But right now, in this moment, he's at peace with his family - even if they aren't technically related.