Chase Atlantic One Shots

I Expected You to Fight for Us

Words: 1228

Written: March 23, 2021

Summary: Mitchel recalls the past week in a therapy session in a mental hospital. Mitchel and Kras just recently broke up. They both attend a release party for Beauty in Death, where Mitchel overhears some rude remarks about him from Christian. All of these events lead to Mitchel to attempt to take his own life.

⚠️ Trigger Warning: suicide attempt ⚠️

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"Mitchel, can you hear me? Mitchel?" someone hovers over Mitchel.

"Huh?" Mitchel groans in the bed.

"Mitchel? He's awake!"

Mitchel hears numerous footsteps rush into his room. His eyes gradually flutter open, revealing nurses and doctors flooding into his room. Mitchel groans become louder as he becomes conscious. His head starts to pound against his skull. He tries to lift his hand to grab his head, but his wrists are restrained by cuffs.

"What's happening?" Mitchel strains his neck to see the room.

"It's okay. Just relax." someone places their hand on Mitchel's arm.

"Who are you!" Mitchel's breath starts to become labored.

"I'm Dr.Smith, a physiatrist at Auburn Hospital. Mitchel, do you know why you're here?"

"No..." Mitchel's voice weakens.

"Your friend found you passed out in a bathroom. You had an enormous amount of Xanax in your system. If you weren't found at that time, you would've died. You're very lucky Mitchel."

"Doesn't seem lucky." Mitchel scoffs.

"Do you remember why you took so much Xanax?"

"Yuh."

"Can you tell me?" the doctor inquires.

" I guess, as long as I can have these cuffs off, but it might take a minute."

"No worries. Take as long as you need. I need to understand the whole situation, then we'll discuss the restraints."

"It all started when...

-

Mitchel's phone chimes on the kitchen counter. He gets up from the couch. The cushions lift from the relief of Mitchel leaving. The glossy screen shines its light onto the white ceiling, lighting up the dimmed house.

Kras: Hey are you free?

Mitty: Yeah sure. What's up?

Kras: I haven't seen you in a few weeks...

Mitty: Yeah... sorry bout that. I haven't been feeling the best.

Kras: You always say that.

Mitty: I know I'm sorry.

Kras: You can't just keep saying sorry. Sorry doesn't fix anything.

Mitty: I know, I'm trying.

Kras: I don't know how much longer I can take this. You do nothing. You just lay around and do drugs all day. Mitchel, I want a life with you, but this isn't a life.

Mitty: Bub... don't say that :(

Kras: Mitchel I'm serious.

Mitty: Good joke! Now, what did you want to talk to me about?

Kras: You can't take a thing seriously. Mitchel, I can't do this any longer. I'm sorry. We're done.

Mitty: Christian, I love you.