Boosh RPF
Title: Grey Street
Characters: Noel, Julian - This is Real Person Fiction. You have been warned
Summary: Erm... I'm not good at these. Noel is not coping. Julian tries to help him.
Word Count: 3900
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: Language, mental issues
Disclaimer: None of this happened (I hope). This is purely a work of fiction, no offence intended etc etc
Author's note: I'm not entirely convinced that this isn't a load of rubbish, but I decided I need to stop being a wimp and post stuff to hopefully get some con-crit. It's been kicking around for ages as initially I intended to keep working on it, but at the moment I'm not sure if I'll ever write any more for it.
Noel’s not been out of the house for five days when Julian visits. He’s in an old, hole-y pair of jeans, covered in spots of oil paints and smudges of chalks and charcoal, and a slightly too big t-shirt that’s in a similar state. The floor is strewn with canvases, some half-finished, some completely ruined in a fit of rage when he can’t quite get it right. He’s got a paintbrush tucked behind his ear, forgotten and smearing green paint into his fringe, another two in his left hand while his right is smudging a thick black line.
Noel’s jittery from too little sleep and too much coffee, his movements quick and jerky as he daubs more paint onto the canvas, unaware that he’s being watched from the doorway. Eventually Julian clears his throat, and Noel spins around, accidently painting a black stripe across the mess of colour as his heart leaps to his throat.
“Jesus, you fucking scared me,” Noel says, his head spinning a little and his vision flickering at the edges, like the picture on an ancient television set. He feels like he might float away at any moment.
“I’ve been trying to call you.”
Noel doesn’t even know where his phone is, when the last time he saw it was. “What are you doing here?” he asks, turning back to his canvas and looking at it, head slightly on one side. He turns it 90 degrees to the left on the easel and straightens his head, smiling in a self-satisfied manner.
“I’ve been trying to call you,” Julian repeats. “For three days.”
“I’ve been busy,” Noel says distractedly, adding some more strokes of colour, working in the black streak as though it had been deliberate.
“I can see that.” Julian inspects the paintings on the floor - some of them scare him a bit, the thick, dark colours that he knows represent the current state of Noel’s mind. The technicolour mess he’s currently working on is worse, though. “When’s the last time you slept?”
“Yesterday. Or maybe last week. I don’t remember. I don’t need sleep. I think I could stay awake forever. I need some coffee. Do you want some coffee?”
“I think you’ve had enough coffee,” Julian says. “How about some tea? And something to eat. Have you eaten anything today?”
“I had a bagel for breakfast. It was kind of mouldy but I scraped it off but it tasted a bit wrong so I only ate a bit of it.” Noel pauses for a moment. “Actually, that might have been yesterday.”
Julian just shakes his head, knowing there’s no point in lecturing Noel on looking after himself - he never listens. “Come on. I’m going to make some tea.” Noel doesn’t even seem to hear him, so he goes and puts the kettle on and roots around in the cupboards and fridge to see if there’s anything edible - there’s very little. Julian sighs as he puts tea bags into two cups - two in his own - and adds a ridiculous amount of sugar to Noel’s. He manages to find some bread that’s still within the use-by date and puts a couple of slices in the toaster.
Noel lets himself be dragged into the kitchen five minutes later, sitting down in the chair he’s directed to in front of a plate of buttered toast and a steaming mug of tea. He sips gratefully at the tea that’s almost syrupy it’s so sweet, letting the hot mug thaw his freezing hands and warm his stomach. The toast, though, remains untouched. It looks awful, so bland, golden brown and glistening with butter and he wants to get his paintbrush and add some colour to it.
“You need to eat something,” Julian tells him gently.
Noel fidgets with the spoon in his now empty mug, thinking about its possible uses in his painting. He could use it to smear thick lines, and use the edge to make thin marks, and scrape away layers of paint to show the other colours underneath. He smiles a little and slips it into his jeans pocket for later.
“Noel.”
Noel jumps slightly, looking up, his knee jiggling uncontrollably underneath the table. “What are you doing here?”
Julian sighs quietly. “I wanted to check you were okay. You weren’t answering your phone.”
“I’ve been busy.”
Julian hates it when Noel’s like this - when their conversations just go around in circles and he can’t get any sense out of the younger man. “Will you please eat something?” Julian asks, pushing the plate of rapidly cooling toast a little closer to Noel.
“I’m not hungry.”
There’s no point in arguing or trying to push Noel, and Julian knows it. “How about some more tea, then?”
Noel’s off in his own little word again, so Julian makes a fresh cup for both of them anyway. Noel drinks it down, and then wanders off out of the kitchen without a word, as though he’s forgotten Julian’s even there. Julian follows him and finds him destroying the canvas he’d been working on - and seemingly been so pleased with. In a few days - maybe a week - he’ll be fine again. He’ll sleep for the best part of two days and be back to his usual chirpy self who is capable of holding a proper conversation and concentrating on something for more than thirty seconds. But these periods of not sleeping or eating and not being in the real world are becoming more and more frequent, and Julian’s getting seriously worried about his friend. Noel throws the ripped canvas to the floor, his eyes wild, his hair lank and greasy, and his arms frighteningly skinny as they wrap around his body.
Julian watches him and wishes he knew what to say. “Why don’t you go and get a shower?” he suggests eventually. “Then we can go out for a walk or something.”
Noel looks unconvinced that this is a good idea. “It’s too big.”
“What is?”
“Outside. It’s too big. I don’t like it.”
“Okay, well maybe we can just go in the garden then?” The garden at the back of Noel’s house is tiny, but at this point Julian just wants to get him out of the house for ten minutes. “You need some fresh air.”
Noel fidgets with his frayed jeans. “Okay.”
“Good, come on then. Find some shoes, it’s wet out.”
Agreeable for the time being, Noel goes to find a pair of ankle boots, tugging them on and following Julian to the back door. Julian unlocks it and steps outside; the air is damp, but it’s bright and not raining for the time being - it’s actually quite pleasant for the middle of October. He turns around when he’s in the middle of the small garden, and sees Noel still standing in the doorway, shoulders hunched and arms wrapped tightly around his upper torso again. His eyes are darting about wildly, and Julian walks slowly back over to him.
Noel feels light headed and panicky as he looks around him, and everything is a little too bright and a little too loud. The leaves have nearly all fallen from the trees now, and one side of the garden is littered with small, yellow ones. Each oval shaped leaf feels like staring directly at the sun and Noel closes his eyes tightly, unable to look at them any longer.
“What’s wrong?” Julian asks.
“Hurts,” Noel mumbles, backing up and almost stumbling over the doorstep. He goes back into the kitchen and Julian follows him in.
“What hurts?” Julian asks, putting a hand out to rest on Noel’s shoulder, but he flinches and takes another few steps back into the room.
“Hurts my eyes. I don’t like it, Ju, it’s too bright.”
“Okay, it’s all right,” Julian says, closing the door again and locking it for good measure. “We’ll stay inside then. I do think you’ll feel better if you go and clean up though.”
Noel runs his hand through his greasy hair, snagging in tangles and knots. “I feel all wrong.” His head is full of cotton wool and he feels kind of sick and weak, like he’s been ill for a while. “I need some coffee.”
Julian blocks his path to the kettle. “What you need is some sleep, and something to eat, not more caffeine.”
Noel can’t sleep. Sleep brings dreams, and dreams bring terror and pain and unfathomable messages. Sleep is bad. Awake is good, and safe and familiar. Even when his vision is tinged with the grey edges of exhaustion and his hearing is slightly fuzzy. Coffee. He needs coffee, and then he’ll be able to stay awake. Maybe he should eat, though. It would make Julian happy, and he’s pretty sure it might be why he feels sick. That third of a bagel seems a long time ago. Maybe it was the day before yesterday… Julian’s talking to him, but he feels like he’s underwater, trying to make out his bubble language. He thinks of Rich and his underwater talking academy, and giggles.
“Noel?” Julian says when he realises he hasn’t been listening to a word he’s saying, and frowns when Noel starts laughing for no reason. “Noel?!” Noel sways suddenly, and Julian manages to catch him before he hits the floor in a dead faint. “Jesus, Noel,” Julian murmurs as he gets a real idea of exactly how skinny Noel’s got, his ribs sticking out frighteningly beneath Julian’s hands. He lifts the smaller man easily into his arms and carries him to the living room, laying him down on the sofa. Noel’s skin is freezing and clammy, and Julian shrugs his jacket off to lay it over him.
Noel groans quietly, and his eyes open slowly, looking dull and unfocused. “Ju?”
“Hey. You passed out.”
“Mm.” Noel’s eyes slip closed again. “I’m so tired.”
Julian’s throat stings a little, and he swallows. “Get some sleep, then. Do you want to go upstairs?”
Noel nods. “Cold.”
“All right. Come here, then.” Julian slips his arms under Noel’s body, lifting him up and cradling him against his chest like a sleeping child. He carries him upstairs, jacket still draped over him, and into his bedroom, and helps him out of his paint splattered clothes. He crawls into bed in just his pants, and Julian pulls the covers right up to his chin. “Are you warm enough?”
Noel shakes his head, shivering slightly, and Julian finds a blanket in the cupboard by the door. “Can you stay with me?” Noel mumbles. His hand searching for Julian’s but never making it out from under the covers.
Julian puts his hand on Noel’s arm. “I’ll stay. I just need to call Julia quickly, okay?”
“M’kay.” Noel closes his eyes and seems to fall asleep almost instantly.
Julian slips out of the room to phone Julia. “Hey,” he says when she answers.
“Hey. Everything okay?”
Julian sighs, rubbing his face. “No, not really.”
“Is Noel all right?”
“Christ, I think he’s fucking losing it, Julia. He’s not eating or sleeping, he’s living on coffee and he passed out on me a few minutes ago.”
Julia makes a sympathetic noise. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Thanks, but not really. He’s asleep now, but he doesn’t want me to go. Would you mind too much if I stayed for a while?”
“No, stay as long as you need to, Love. Are you sure there’s nothing you need?”
“No, I’m fine, I just need to try to have a conversation with him that actually gets through. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” Julian says, and hangs up before going back to Noel’s room. He looks tiny now he’s asleep, his face unnaturally pale and drawn and dark with stubble around his chin. Julian just wants to put him in a hot bath like he’s Arthur or Walter and feed him up until he looks like he wouldn’t snap in a stiff breeze. He watches Noel sleep for an hour and a half before anything happens. Noel cries out suddenly, making Julian jump, and his face contorts with fear, or pain, or something else, his body twisting under the covers. Julian’s unsure of what to do - wake him, or just leave him - and he freezes up for a few minutes, listening to Noel’s noises of distress.
It’s hearing his own name called that snaps him out of it. “Julian!”
Julian finds Noel’s hand and holds it tightly. “I’m here, Noel,” he says. “It’s okay, it’s just a dream.” He puts his free hand on Noel’s chest. “Come on, wake up. It’s okay, Noel.”
Noel wakes up suddenly, his blue eyes opening wide as he stares at Julian, panting heavily. He pulls away hurriedly, feeling claustrophobic and panicky. He sits up with his head in his hands, fingers clutching at his hair and his elbows resting on his knees. “You stayed,” he mumbles as he rocks backwards and forwards slightly.
“Yeah,” Julian says, feeling more helpless than he ever has in his life - even more so than when the twins were tiny and he’d been left alone with them for the first time. “You asked me to.”
“I think there’s something wrong with me,” Noel says, so conversationally that Julian has no idea what to say - he wasn’t looking for comfort, something Julian could help with, he was just making a passing comment.
“What can I do to help you?” Julian asks eventually.
“I don’t know,” Noel says in a small voice.
“Maybe you should get some more sleep?” Julian suggests gently.
Noel shakes his head vehemently. “Can’t sleep. Can’t dream.”
“Noel, you need to sleep. I know you get nightmares, but that’s all they are. They’re not real. They can’t hurt you.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I know. Could you sleep if I stay here and wake you up when you start having bad dreams?”
Noel seems to genuinely consider this before he nods. “Maybe.”
“I’d really like you to try,” Julian says, putting his hand on Noel’s arm.
Once again, Noel pulls away from the contact. “Need the toilet,” he says, scrambling out of bed.
“Okay. Then you’ll come back and sleep, yeah?”
Noel nods distractedly, pulling his dressing gown on and hurrying from the room. He doesn’t come back - Julian hadn’t really expected him to, and when he goes looking he finds Noel sitting in the empty bathtub.
“Do you want to take a bath?” Julian asks. Noel’s shivering still, and his skin is so pale, almost translucent and it looks as delicate as tissue paper. “It’ll warm you up, make you feel better. Then you can sleep afterwards.” Noel hesitates for a moment before he nods. “Okay. Can you get up a minute? I know what the water’s like here, it takes ages to warm up and you’ll freeze if you just sit there.”
Noel obediently gets out of the bath and sits on the toilet lid instead, watching Julian silently as he starts running hot water. He slips his arms out of his dressing gown when Julian tells him to, but shies away from the taller man when he tries to help, letting it fall to the floor instead. Noel strips out of his pants with absolutely no sign of embarrassment and steps into the hot water, sighing a little as he sits down.
“Is it hot enough?” Julian asks, and Noel nods in reply. “I’m going to make some more tea, all right?”
“Don’t go.” Noel’s plea is soft, and his eyes downcast, and Julian can’t even think about leaving him on his own when he looks and sounds like this.
“All right. Tea can wait.”
Noel pulls his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and resting his chin on his knees.
“Want me to wash your hair?”
Noel hesitates for a moment before nodding. Julian wets Noel’s greasy hair with the shower, before massaging a big handful of shampoo into it, rinsing and repeating. Noel wordlessly passes him the conditioner when he’s done, and Julian smoothes it through his hair, leaving it in for a few minutes before rinsing. Noel’s still in his foetal position, and Julian gently squeezes the water out of Noel’s hair.
“I’ll get you a towel, finish cleaning up, all right?”
Noel doesn’t speak, or acknowledge him in any way, but he does seem to have made an effort by the time Julian returns.
“Ready to get out?” Julian has to virtually lift Noel out of the bath, wrapping the towel around him before pulling the plug to let the water out. He walks behind Noel back to the bedroom, looking out for any sign of unsteadiness, and eventually manages to get Noel back into bed. “Will you please try to get some sleep?” Julian asks quietly, brushing Noel's still damp hair out of his face.
Noel puts up absolutely no fight this time, just closes his eyes and curls up into a ball on his side. This time he sleeps through the rest of the day, and the night, and Julian falls asleep at a terribly uncomfortable angle in Noel's armchair. He's woken up by sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains, and looks over to the bed where Noel is still lying, watching him.
Julian leans forward slowly, wincing as his neck and spine clicks. “How long have you been awake?” he asks, his voice gravelly with sleep.
Noel shrugs. “Ten minutes.”
Julian clears his throat and gets up from the chair, stretching his legs out. “How... how do you feel?”
Noel just shrugs again.
“How about I make some tea? Maybe some breakfast?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Julian's a little wary around Noel to start with, unsure of whether he's back to normal or if this is just a moment of calm in the middle of the storm. Noel eats a plate of toast without complaint, though, and drinks two mugs of very sweet de-caff tea. When Julian offers Noel a banana he takes it without a word, peeling the skin off it completely before eating it, one tiny bite at a time.
“I think I'm gonna go back to bed,” Noel mumbles when he's done.
“Okay. That's a good idea,” Julian says.
“You don't have to stay,” Noel says.
“Do you want me to stay?”
Noel shrugs, but doesn't say no.
“I should go and see Julia, but I'll come back, all right?”
“'kay.”
Julian listens to Noel going back through to his room, to the door closing behind him and the muffled squeak of the bedsprings. He waits for ten minutes before he leaves the flat, going back to his own house to see Julia and the boys.
Arthur and Walter are waiting for him when he gets back, demanding to know where he's been and he picks them both up and hugs them. Julia's waiting for him in the kitchen when he's finally persuaded the boys to go and play for a while, and he sits down at the table with her.
“How is he?” she asks quietly.
“Um...” Julian rubs his face with one hand. “I think... he's a bit better. He's still not good though. He's half starved and completely exhausted. I was going to... going to go back if you don't mind. He needs help.”
“Maybe he should see someone,” Julia says.
“I think he probably needs to be locked away for a few months until someone can figure out what's going on in that head of his, but good luck convincing him of that.”
“Do you want me to do anything?” Julia asks, reaching out to take Julian's hand.
“For now... I'm just going to stay with him for a few days, is that okay?”
Julia stands up and walks around the table, leaning down to hug him. “You do what you need to do, Love. But just make sure you accept the fact that you can't do everything on your own.”
Julian leans up to kiss her cheek. “Thanks. I'm going to go shopping, he's got hardly any food.”
“Make sure you phone, all right?”
“I will.” Julian stands up to hug and kiss her properly. “I'll see you soon.” He goes through to the boys' room to say goodbye to them, promising them that they'll do something fun when he's back to make up for going away.
Julian goes to the supermarket, filling up a trolley with food and drink, a lot of high energy food in an attempt to get Noel back on his feet. He takes everything back to Noel's flat and unpacks before he starts to cook. At mid-afternoon Julian figures Noel has had enough sleep and should eat something else, so he goes through to Noel's bedroom. He finds his friend sitting up in bed, knees pulled up to his chest and his face buried in his arms, sobbing quietly. Julian goes to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around him and holding him tightly.
“I think we need to talk.”