Mercurial Men

In which one building brings many troubles

I didn't mean to hurt him. Or did I? I had finally discovered something that I was never able to obtain. Power. I shrugged the incident off. It's just a part of college, right?

"Jefferson oughta liked that." I smiled, "Better tell him. Maybe I'll earn an even higher place in the student ranks, considering his prestige... but I won't hurt anyone else afterwards!" I convinced myself. Seeing as my self-evaluation was satisfactory, I made my plan a priority, coincidentally finding him right outside the dorm building on a nearby bench.

"Hm..." I heard him sigh, ruffling his hands through his hair and staring off into the distance. "What are the plans for today? Maybe..." he paused in thought.

"You'll go torture some students!" I raced up behind him and clapped him on the back, "Right...?"

"Gah!" he exclaimed, hair flying about as he turned to face me, "No." He stood up from the bench, "Leave me alone."

"What do you mean, Thomas? Think it's bad to hurt people? I did that just now!" I fiddled with my fingers.

"And it felt kinda good..." My mind mused.

"It is!" he stressed, "Who did you hit, and why?" I sensed the conservation was going in one of two directions, either uphill or downhill.

"John. He's a bit of a wuss, too. He started it. Are you proud?"

"Where is he?" Concern bulged from his eyes, his hair standing on end. The sight was very much unnatural. I thought this guy didn't have a heart. Turns out I was wrong.

"Who cares?" I scoffed, shuffling closer to him. He flinched, muttering something about how cool the temperature was, "Now, what were you planning to do?"

"Read a book, pass some time. In all truth, that doesn't matter. Someone's life is at stake." He dashed away from me, quick as lightning.

"C'mon!" I exclaimed, chasing after him and catching up soon after, "He'll live."

"You never know! Follow me and pay the price." The hospital was soon approaching, and a wave of strangeness began crashing over me.

"This is unlike you..." I turned to face him, as we made a halt to open the hospital room doors.

"Times change, mate. Times change." He winked at me several times, wishing for me to take the hint, which I subconsciously threw in the trashcan in the back of my mind. I wouldn't feel the same. The world will never be the same.

"Who are you after?" The nurse sighed dismally.

Jefferson raised his eyebrows at me, causing me to look back with intimidation, and I cleared my throat. "J-John. John Laurens. Yeah, that's him."

"Over to the right, just there. He's not faring too well..." she gestured to his bedside, the lonely figure's back facing us. The telltale sign of isolation, I reckon.

"Laurens!" Jefferson strolled over, "Are you alright?"

"Huh... Thomas... Why?" He turned himself so that he was lying flat on the bed, eyes red and drowsy.

"I heard of your incident, thanks to this man here." He smirked, gesturing to me.

Laurens stared at me, and I stared at him. Beady. Eyes. Locked. The tension was so thick, it could be cut with a knife, except it was much fiercer on his end. He groaned shortly after our stare-off. "I'd prefer it if you left me alone..." he said.

"Why? 'Cuz I beat you up?!" I taunted. It was an abrupt action, just like the rest.

"Precisely," he frowned. "You don't realise what you've gotten yourself into." He spoke with a wise and philosophical tone. Quite strange, considering all the angst and spite, and his broken hand. Broken self. Broken soul.

"I do..." I muttered under my breath, guilt knocking my head like an axe to oak wood. "Jefferson, shoo." I waved my hand carelessly about, almost hitting his scrunched face.

"You can't control me!" he screamed, "But, John. I'll let you know that this douche ain't worth your time. 'Specially 'cos you're damaged and all."

His face turned elated at Jefferson's remark, giggling hysterically, "You're quite right, Jefferson! He isn't!"

"Are you high?" I asked. This was a genuine question, mind you. You never know when the world decides to give you a delusional freak for five minutes.

"Nah, mate." He curled up in his bed, closing his eyes and escaping the cruel world that at this moment, tortured him.

"At least he's better off now..." Jefferson muttered, quietly exiting the room. "Wait!" He bounded back to the nurse's desk. "Where's James?" he panted.

"Which one? There are several here at the moment..." She looked down at her checklist, "James Tathern... James Corall... James Madison..."

"That's the one!" he exclaimed. "Where's James Madison?"

"He's got his own special room back here, poor thing. Follow me."

He nodded back, trailing behind the nurse with extra care, a look of worry plastered on his face. She slammed the door, making their conversation much less audible. Eavesdropping seemed like a plausible action, considering Sleeping Beauty was once again under the spell. I placed my ear against the door, shuddering with the nervousness of what I could discover, or what was yet to come.

"What's wrong?"

"He's in a coma..."

"A coma?! The other day he was sick and coughing, but now a coma? Aw, Jimmy James..." The next thing I heard was some hardcore shaking, hoping to revive him. The vibrations were emitted from the room outwards, causing several objects around me to quake. Sorry to disappoint, Thomas, but that never works... He sobbed a little before speaking up again. "Give me the diagnosis."

"I'm terribly sorry to see you like this..." she paused.

"Thomas." He sniffed.

"Right. Thomas." The nurse sympathised, "Our staff noticed that James was experiencing mild signs of depression, with the lack of the 'feel-good' chemicals that the body needs to function. Endorphins, serotonin and so on. This led to his current sta--"

"Well, treat him!" He lashed out, "Go! Bring him the chemicals! Don't stare and wait for him to pass away! C'mon, you old coot!" He paused briefly, clearing his throat, "Dorothy." I presumed he identified her by the name tag that the majority of hospital staff are required to wear. I creaked open the door, entering the space to Jefferson's over-exaggerated shock. I couldn't help but gasp at his condition. It was now that I truly understood Thomas' reason for grief, but the fact that Madison was one of his closest companions drew out further tears, sobs, cries and more of the like.

"We are doing everything we can." She spoke, gesturing to the assorted tubes and injection tools scattered on a nearby tray and plugged through both his left and right nostrils, causing Jefferson to recoil in fear.

"Stop being such a scaredy-cat!" I cried.

"I--I hate needles. I have been for many years now. I hate diseases, I hate hospitals. I hate this! Just help him and help me!" he shrieked, tugging at his hair, "Please..." Dialling down his tone in regret, he shoved his hands in his pockets, childishly glancing at the nurse for answers.

"I suggest that we give him time, but you can pop in and visit. I recommend every two to three days." she sighed, "In terms of your mental state, I'd like you to engage in relaxing activities, whatever that may be. Take Laurens with you, Thomas. He could use some of that. And...?" She paused, squinting in my direction.

"Oh. Alex."

"Alex. Don't chime in!" She dawdled off with a cordial smile.

"Like she said, don't even bother." He smirked, tousling his hair so it appeared normal. That's all he needed to feel some kind of comfort. Add an insult or snarky comment towards me, and he'll come out divine. I lingered by the door, gauging John's mood.

"Hey, Laurens. Wake up." Jefferson nudged his shoulder. Laurens drowsily opened his eyes, much to his relief. He couldn't deal with another standstill, playing dead person to be at the sight of.

"You again..." he spoke with hesitancy. "What now?"

"You. Me. Recreational activity."

"That's exactly what I needed. Thanks." He hopped out of bed, smiling. "But my hand hasn't recovered..."

"Oh, give it here, then!" The nurse shouted out of nowhere, travelling at supersonic speed. John shouted in agony as his hand was set ablaze with antiseptics, then wrapped tightly in a cast. "At least a month, dearie, and you should be on your way. No quarrels, you two!" she chuckled lightheartedly, before tending to a patient by the name of Aimee Scott.

"This hospital is dreadful!" John exclaimed, Thomas eye-rolling to the sky.

"Oh, believe me. I just received the news. Madison's in a coma. Let's not focus on that. Library sound good to you?"

"Sure..." Their conversation was taken outside, as he darted off to another corner of the globe. Ahem... The school. Its boundaries felt invisible and endless, possibly even non-existent. He could disappear into thin air if he wanted to. I made little effort to look out for him, trusting that he had enough mental stability to continue the day. It appeared that my statement was correct, as I spied him chatting away with his so-called bestie, Eliza and Aaron in the courtyard. All I wished to do was to take myself out of the wrong. To envelope myself in the right. Nothing could be cured.

"John off on relief with Jefferson..."

"Madison in his own unconscious state..."

"Everyone else on their own, in an 'everything is cupcakes and rainbows' like world..."

With those thoughts in mind, I slinked away from the brightness, and back to my dorm, where everything seemed safe and sound. Quiet and calm. A place where I could be myself, whatever that may be. A place where being mercurial didn't matter. Only when it did.