Work Text:
“Jackson Help Centre, what’s your issue?”
“Lisa! It’s Ellie! I need help. Medical help. J-Joel. He—he swallowed a bottle of pills! Oh my god. I think he’s dead!”
Ellie walked up the steps of her and Joel’s home. She wanted to apologise to him for her shitty behaviour towards him. She had been a bitch to him. Heck, she’d made him depressed.
So when she walked up and entered the house, she expected his warm smile. Instead, she was met with silence. A scary kind of silence.
Joel was nowhere to be seen. His bedroom door was shut. Perhaps he was having a lie down? She’d checked the patrol roster. He wasn’t on patrol.
She rested her hand on the door handle and pushed it down, opening the door. At first, all was normal.
Joel was indeed on the bed, asleep. But when he didn’t wake like he usually did, she got worried.
She approached the bed and her heart sank in her chest. A bottle of pills—sleeping pills—was in his open hand.
He never took sleeping pills during the day. The bottle was pretty much empty and the prescription had been filled a week ago. Only 7 pills should’ve been taken. A lot more than that was missing. She screamed when she realised he wasn’t breathing.
He’d downed a bottle of pills. She grabbed her radio and called Lisa.
“Jackson Help Centre, what’s your issue?” Lisa asked.
“Lisa! It’s Ellie! I need help. Medical help. J-Joel. He—he swallowed a bottle of pills! Oh my god. I think he’s dead!”
“Okay. Help is on the way. Can you check his pulse?” Lisa asked.
“It’s barely there,” Ellie replied, two fingers on Joel’s neck.
Joel was rushed to the clinic.
“54 year old male, Joel Miller. Suspected drug overdose. He took at least 60 times the dose of Sleeping Pills. Body temp is 36 degrees Celsius. Heart rate is at 25 BPM, he’s bradycardic. Breaths per minute is about 24. Blood pressure is 180/120,” a nurse informed the doctor as a team wheeled Joel in on a stretcher into the treatment room.
Ellie came in as a nurse grabbed Joel’s arm, applying a tourniquet and pressing a finger into the crook of his arm. She then grabbed a needle and slid it into his arm, then taping the thing in place as she pulled the needle out, leaving the thin tube of the cannula in Joel’s arm. She drew 3 vials of blood and then hooked him up to fluids.
The nurse gave him some sort of medicine through the IV line too as the doctor grabbed a small plastic tube. She then fed the tube into Joel’s nose, quickly and gently pushed it in and in. Until it was in his stomach.
She laid the bed flat and the radiologist brought an X-ray machine to check it was in place.
“Tube’s in place,” the doctor said, looking at the x-ray.
The doctor then pushed saline through the tube. A lot of saline. She then used a suction to suck up the stuff that was coming up the tube.
Ellie realised she was pumping Joel’s stomach. She repeated the process several times until she was satisfied with the results before pulling the tube out.
Joel still needed intubation because his breathing was so weak.
“We need to do an endoscopy and colonoscopy to make sure there’s no damage internally,” the doctor said.
Ellie sat down. Trying to stay out of their way.
A camera was put down the intubation tube and they did the endoscopy. Thankfully, they found no damage.
The nurse gave Joel a suppository before the colonoscopy to empty him out.
Ellie was relieved Joel was asleep. If he was awake, she’s sure he would’ve died from embarrassment. Anyways.
Ellie left to get a drink when they did the colonoscopy, not particularly wanting to see doctors put a camera up Joel’s ass. She just hoped it was clear too.
A day later, Joel woke up. He was stabilised mostly. If he was still fine tomorrow, he’d be moved to the psych ward.
It had been pretty evident that he’d tried to commit suicide. If Ellie hadn’t have gotten there when she had, he’d be—
No. She wasn’t going to go there. Ellie wasn’t going to imagine him dead. Because he’s not. Not yet at least.
She was pissed though. Mostly because Gail wouldn’t let her or Tommy see Joel at all. She had explained it was to keep Joel safe and to not interfere with her treatment plan. She was in with Joel right now.
Joel was sick of the constant questioning. Sick of not having anything to do. Sick of being in bed.
He’d been in the psych ward for a week now. His room was boring white with nothing but a bathroom, bed, and window in it. He mostly just sat there staring at the wall until Gail came in. Every day he’d hope she’d give him the all clear to go home, but like that was happening anytime soon.
He hasn’t told her why he tried to kill himself, but he thinks she has a good idea why.
“Joel, the sooner you cooperate with me, the sooner you get out of here,” Gail said.
He wasn’t sure why he told her now, but he did.
“Because Ellie hates me, okay?! My greatest fear came true. I lost another daughter and I felt lost. Depressed. Sad,” Joel snapped.
Perhaps Gail was keeping him here because of his past. The time he took a gun to his own head and pulled the trigger. He flinched, but it was still an attempt.
3 months. That’s how long it took for him to get out of there. The minute he walked through the door into his room, his own bedroom, the memories came back.
Crying on the bed, after a heated argument with Ellie. She’d said she hated him and wished he’d just die. He knew it was just her lashing out. She didn’t mean it, truely, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t sting.
He’d wondered what if he did just die? Would anyone care? He was tired of trying to prove himself worthy inside a community that saw him as a monster. Many people were afraid of him. Maybe everyone would be happier with him gone.
So he’d taken the bottle of sleeping pills and tipped over half of the bottle into his mouth, swallowed and laid down, waiting for death. He’d fallen asleep, expecting to never wake up again, until he woke up in the clinic.
He knew he’d scared Ellie and Tommy shitless. He knew where he stood in this community now. He was respected. All of the cards and flowers he’d received was proof of that.
He and Ellie had sorted through their issues with each other and she’d apologised for what she had said that night too many times to count.
They were a family again.