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Despite everything, Wave wakes up early. His head is still pounding and his is throat raw, though whether that's from the weed or his crying is anyone's guess. He's still tired down to his bones but he knows in an instant that he won't be falling back asleep. Not with Lava's breath hot on his neck and his arms draped heavy across him.
He'd made enough of a fool of himself last night. Falling back asleep and waking up to Lava's teasing is decidedly off the table. He needed to compose himself before dealing with any sort of conversation, let alone one steeped in vulnerability. The air feels impossibly thin and Wave needs to get outside now.
Thankfully Lava continues his snoring even as Wave extracts himself from his grip and stumbles to the door. He still doesn't know this house well (not that he knows anything well) so he bumps into a fair few things as he tries to rush through in the dim light.
Was the Chief home? He really hoped not. As difficult as Lava could be he recognized that staying here was a kindness and he shouldn't repay that by waking up his benefactor.
At least he manages to make it out without breaking something else. A lot of the house isn't exactly enclosed, but the air still feels more fresh when he's fully out in the open. He sucks it in like he's been holding his breath – and maybe he has. His memories are still an empty, gaping wound in his head for the most part but he remembers the water now.
The water, the fireworks, the...
Wave shakes his head forcefully enough to make him dizzy. If he tried hard enough maybe he could knock the memory loose.
But to what end he didn't know anymore. Did he want to remember more? Or did he want it to slip away again?
He's unsteady on his feet as he forces himself forward again, bee-lining for the tilting axis of the pool. Looking at the sea would be too much right now but he still feels drawn to the water.
The sun is starting to rise now, much needed light starting to pour from the horizon. It's probably a beautiful sight but he can't bring himself to care. The soft pinks and oranges aren't bright enough. They're too similar to the bursts of fireworks that rocket through his ringing skull.
He plops gracelessly to the ground, a nagging voice he can't grasp onto scolding him as he does. If they actually cared, wouldn't they be here already? In person and not some phantom voice sliding through his fingers like sand.
Even sitting the world is still spinning a little, so he pushes down his nerves and drops his legs into the cold water. It's silly to be afraid. It can't hurt him now.
As expected, the icy pool jolts him awake, softening the edges of his disjointed memories and distracting him from the lingering headache. He sighs in relief, and leans back on his hands, drinking in the light as it gets brighter.
But all too soon a lazy shuffling sound breaks through the peace. Wave doesn't even have to look to know that it's Lava.
Of course it is.
Wave finds himself holding his breath when Lava kicks off his shoes and takes a seat beside him. Even though they'd had a pretty equal tit-for-tat going, both sides dancing on the edge of cruelty for a bit of stress relief, in this one moment he feels entirely too fragile to handle anything like that.
If Lava decided to throw his weepy breakdown in his face he'd crumble to pieces. It could be an attempt at a light-hearted joke and it would still flay him open, scoop out his already raw insides and dismantle any sense of composure he'd clawed back in the last few minutes.
Maybe he was weak, after all.
Lava is quiet, though. He settles in with his feet in the water and his shoulder just ghosting against Wave's.
After a few moments, Wave takes in a shaky breath. It's embarrassingly loud and Lava tenses beside him, perhaps bracing himself for another round of dramatics. The prideful part of Wave aches to be offended by the thought but it's not like it would be unfair. He was a fucking mess.
So, for his benefit as much as Lava's, he forces his voice to stay steady even as every part of him still feels wobbly and off-kilter. “Thank you.”
It somehow feels like too much and not enough all at once. Some of Lava deserved the thanks while some of him still had a backlog of well-deserved punches piling up. He fiddles with the watch on his wrist.
“I shouldn't have taken that.” Lava says in lieu of the much easier 'you're welcome', pointedly looking ahead at the pool instead of in Wave's direction.
Wave shrugs. “Maybe.”
Later he might find it in himself to get mad about it but right now it feels impossible. Because he's not the person that owned this watch. Sure, he knows it's his but it's also not. It belongs to the body but not the mind – that feels long gone, drowned and washed away in the sea.
And can you really steal from a dead man?
They sit in silence for a minute or two. It's loaded, thick with some sort of tension that somehow doesn't feel uncomfortable considering it's weight.
Eventually Lava drags his feet through the water a little more aggressively, clearly fed up with being still and quiet. He looks Wave up and down and frowns a little deeper. “Are you ok?”
He's not even meaning to be annoying when he shrugs and again answers, “Maybe.”
Lava is annoyed anyway. “Oh? You can't say anything else? Did the drugs finish melting your brain?”
Wave turns to Lava, now equally annoyed. “I thought it was an herb?”
“It is.” He corrects, waving his hand dismissively. “You got in my head.”
“Sure.” Wave mocks, laughing.
“Whatever.” Lava kicks out so that he splashes him. “Shut up.”
Wave splashes him right back, feeling the urge to stick out his tongue even though he knows it wouldn't be proper.
Lava huffs and rolls his eyes. His foot twitches like he's about to retaliate but he clears his throat awkwardly instead. “Did you...remember anything at least?”
And wasn't that the question of the day.
Wave shrinks into himself, crossing his arms over his aching chest like he can protect himself from the answer. He looks down at the water and immediately regrets it. The churning surface feels too familiar even if it's not the same at all. It's dark and he's below the water and the sky is flashing but it's pitch black –
Nonsensical panic tugs at him as he turns to the sky instead, catching a quick glance at Lava looking positively regretful as he jerks his head up.
He refuses to cry again but it's a tough battle not to. His breath comes in too quickly but at least it's coming in and he's not choking on sea water.
This time he's definitely aiming for levity when he finally replies with yet another, “Maybe.” It comes out weak and sad instead.
Because he doesn't remember anything, at least not anything helpful. There are flashes but nothing that he can properly piece together.
He remembers remembering, though.
Or maybe not. Maybe his damaged mind just filled in the gaps with nonsense because he was high and desperate. It's possible that even the bits that lingered were fake.
But that face.
It swims in his head now, moving and distorted like he's viewing it from under turbulent water, but he knows that face. Knows it so well that if he were to look in a mirror now he'd half expect it to be the fact staring back at him.
That person was important to him. And even if he can't picture the face he knows the feeling of it – familiarity, comfort, safety...
Fear.
Hot, disgusting fear like acid in his stomach. Something sweet turned impossibly sour, curdled and rotten in his breathless lungs. They're alone and it's beautiful until it isn't.
He doesn't know who he is but he has tiny little jagged pieces of the worst memory of his life anyway, and wasn't that just cruel? None of this was fair.
Lava's shoulder bumps into his and stays there, a solid weight bringing him back to earth.
It's weirdly perfect.
Anything more would feel overwhelming. If he went in for another hug like last night Wave would probably claw his eyes out. He couldn't handle feeling anything that face made him feel. Not now. Not sober and freshly aware of another thing taken from him.
But the reminder that he isn't alone is a nice middle ground. Stability without the comfort. Proof that he's on solid ground and not on a rocking boat in darkness.
For better and for worse Lava wasn't that face – wasn't someone pressed into his heart but also wasn't someone that wanted to hurt him. They were just two people stuck with each other.
Wave had no doubt that soon enough he'd want to strangle Lava again. In a matter of hours they would probably be bickering and lashing out at each other. But for now he presses his shoulder harder against Lava's and feels grateful that he has something to hang on to at all.