Party girls don't get hurt
Can't feel anything, when will I learn
I push it down, push it down

Chandler - Sia

April 3rd

The birds chirped outside of the window, forcing the boy from his slumber. TK Takaishi rolled over, trying to grab his pillow from the other side of the bed to no avail. Slowly, he opened his eyes, squinting at the light coming into the room, and realized that he wasn't in his own bedroom. There was no other pillow to throw over him and drown out the sound.

The moment he opened his eyes, his stomach lurched. His whole body was stiff and he felt like absolute shit. He could taste last night's poison in his mouth, and trying to identify what it was that made him want to vomit even more.

TK couldn't handle it anymore. Unable to contain anything, he rolled over to his other side and slid off the bed. His legs gave out below him, crashing the boy down to his knees. His stomach rumbled again, begging to release what was inside of it. TK's eyes slammed shut, his face contorting in sickness and pain. Slowly, he began crawling to where he knew the bathroom was.

"Jesus Christ," he heard a voice mutter with annoyance as the door flung open. TK felt someone grab onto his arms and pull him up off the ground, much to his internal dismay.

"Matt…" he whispered, holding a hand up to his mouth. "Bathroom…"

Moving as fast as his still-intoxicated legs could take him, he felt Matt hoist his arm over his shoulder, feeling his older brother practically carry him to the bedroom bath. The drop to the floor was hard, as if Matt threw him down, but TK didn't mind. Standing up made the nausea worse and the bathroom tiles felt good and cold against his skin.

TK's hands gripped to the bowl of the toilet as he hoisted himself up. He dunked his head as far as he could without getting wet, and released the contents of his stomach. With each contraction of his abdomen, a shot of pain went through him. TK was very well aware of what this meant.

"This is the fourth time you've thrown up since you got here," Matt deadpanned, leaning against the doorway as he looked down at his pitiful-looking little brother. "Or do you even remember getting here?"

TK coughed once more, taking two times to actually grab the handle to flush the toilet. The smell of his own vomit made him want to vomit again. He leaned away from the toilet and back against the tub. He refused to open his eyes and look at his brother, or any trace of light. He swallowed a disgusting amount of post-vomit saliva. "No, I don't" TK answered, hearing the sleepy gravel in his voice.

Matt turned away, unable to look at his brother. "Can you tell me anything about last night?"

TK tried to swallow again, but he already felt the night-after dehydration kick in. He sighed, not being able to move any part of his body. "I went to a teammate's house and had a few drinks," he replied, trying to put together the pieces from the night before.

"A few?" Matt scoffed. "Your teammate took your phone and called me, because you had taken shots at beer pong instead of just drinking the beer, and said you had passed out on his patio."

TK cringed at the mention of shots and beer. The mere mention of anything related to alcohol made his stomach do flips again. But he did remember playing someone in beer pong and making that decision. "Oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?" Matt seethed. "TK, this is the fifth time someone has called me because you got too drunk to get home."

The younger boy's face scrunched up, his head pounding at Matt's loud tone. He knew it wasn't the first time; that's why he knew where he was going when he fell off the bed. He wanted to refute Matt's claim, but he knew that anything he truthfully said would incriminate him more.

Matt continued, his arms still crossed, leaning against the door. "I had to get up at two in the morning, drive to some high schooler's house, and drag you out. You regained consciousness by the time we made it to the building." He paused, giving him some time to calm down. Matt knew yelling at him now wouldn't solve anything, though it would get a lot off of his own chest. Calmer, he continued, "You threw up in the bushes outside of the building, off of the balcony outside of my door, and into the kitchen sink. As soon as I got you in here and laid you down, you were fine, until this morning."

TK couldn't respond. It wasn't the first time Matt had done something like this. It wasn't the first time TK had thrown up in this apartment. In fact, there wasn't a room in the apartment that he hadn't puked in. There was really no excuse TK could give Matt besides he just pushed himself too hard.

When he didn't get a response, Matt finally looked down at his brother. His heart cracked at the sight of a pale, sweat-glistening TK, barely able to sit up on the floor. He didn't know why his brother was so invested in drinking, or even where it all began. But now he was starting to get worried. He knew eventually TK would go too far. For now, though, Matt had to smile down at this brother. He was safe and okay here in the bathroom, and his hangover was punishment enough for the morning. Matt would wait until the afternoon to get serious.

Reaching under his sink, Matt pulled out a washcloth and ran it under some cold water in the sink. He rinsed it out and got down on the floor in front of his brother. Gently, he placed the cold rag on TK's forehead, getting a hungover smile from the younger boy.

TK's eye slowly opened, adjusting to the light. Matt was the first thing to greet him, his face holding a comforting look but his eyes filled with concern. TK knew what he was doing, to himself and his brother, was wrong. He was only seventeen and couldn't legally drink yet. He didn't know what it was, but he always found himself with a bottle of vodka in one hand and a beer in the other.

Pushing his blurred thoughts aside, TK tried to give Matt the best smile he could through his stiff body. He still felt horrible but less nauseous, knowing the cause of that feeling was somewhere in the apartment's plumbing. TK looked into his brother's eyes, trying to lighten the mood. "Matt, I think I'm still drunk."

Matt had to find some humor in that statement. While he wanted to be mad, he knew now wasn't the time. "You probably are; it's only seven," he nodded, pulling TK's hand to hold the cloth on his own. "Not enough time to get it all through your system."

"No, if I did what you said I did, I had twelve shots, not seven," TK corrected, closing his eyes once more in disgust with the amount of alcohol he consumed.

Matt's eyes went wide at the number. That had to be somewhere near a lethal blood alcohol level for someone of his size. He reminded himself to look up that fact later. Pushing that thought away, Matt replied, "Seven in the morning, not the amount of shots you had."

TK brushed off the conversation, embarrassed that his mind automatically went to alcohol consumption. He moved the wet cloth around his face, trying to find spots where it was still cold. Between the rag and the tile, TK wasn't sure whether he wanted to get up or not.

As if reading his mind, Matt took the rag from his brother and stood up. "Can you make it back to my bed by yourself?" He ran the cold water again, soaking the washcloth.

TK shook his head. "Yeah," he said, confidence absent from his statement. This state of mind was nothing new to him, but he still felt weak. He grabbed onto the tub with one hand, the toilet lid with the other, and slowly hoisted himself up. The change in altitude shifted the contents of his stomach again, but he resisted the urge to fall headfirst back into puking. Instead, he reached out for Matt's forearm, steading himself on his brother. Before Matt could grab him back, TK had already released and was stumbling back to Matt's bed.

Matt shook his head at the awkward attempt to perform a healthy human function. Something was wrong with his brother; that much he knew. There were questions he knew he should have addressed long before this point in his drunk teenagers babysitter career. There were questions that he didn't know how to phrase, or how to properly bring them up. That's why he hadn't before. Matt was hesitant to bring any of this up with his little brother, knowing that he himself wasn't absolved from the occasional drunken sin himself. But he never remembered a time where he was as bad as TK was every time he was called to pick him up.

The talk could wait until both parties were sober. Matt rung out the cloth and brought it to his brother, who was already half asleep on his back. The older one shook his head and turned the younger one on his side, remembering how he had placed him earlier in the morning to prevent him from choking on his own vomit. Matt placed the cold cloth on TK's forehead before giving his brother one more head shake and leaving him to sleep off the rest of his intoxication.