Anything Two: Get Through

How to Cope With Your Non-Romantic Colleague

A/N: Very short filler chapter to let y'all know what's going on while my schedule readjusts. Sorry for the delay. I'm moving!

Seth finally convinces Stefon to get help.

But it takes a lot.

He didn't know a breakup could be so painful. Especially when, in a moment of desperation, Stefon yelled, "I don't need you anyway! You really think you're the only guy I've got?"

Seth's new therapist opened his eyes to the concept of the statement being no more than a manipulation tactic. And she's probably right. She has yet to learn the horrors of the relationship itself, but she's very familiar with the whole breakup thing. Still it felt like the knife in his chest had been twisted as it was said.

What had started as a good day turned sour around lunch time and something in Seth snapped. The new bruises on his arm, fingerprints, are a devilish reminder of what happened that day, and as he breaks it down, more questions form on his therapist's tongue.

"Has he done this before? How long has this been going on? Do you understand that this is more than just an unhealthy relationship? Do you know what this could do for your future?"

It was not his choice to go to therapy. These questions are suffocating and invasive. Every time the answer seems obvious, something else is brought up that makes him realize it's deeper than what he first thought. This was Lorne's idea and Seth's fault.

Since his night at the bar, Seth has regained much of his former alcohol tolerance by drinking. A lot. When Stefon left that day, Seth drank. A lot. Until his arms and legs felt heavy, until his face was numb, tried to drown the emotions that only got stronger with every shot, deeper with every glass, until he could no longer tell if he was laughing or crying, or who he was calling or texting, until the night was going by in flashes and when he woke up with a killer migraine, floor wet with vomit and other bodily fluids below him, he had the bright idea to take a couple more shots before work, just to ease the headache for a while. He cleaned up as best he could and grabbed a bottle of water before he left.

Lorne was more furious with the fact that he drove there than the fact that he was still drunk off his ass. He was sent home in a cab, told he wanted proof that Seth saw a therapist before he went back. Seth made the appointment when his migraine went away.

Lorne told him to keep up with therapy.

More embarrassingly, Stefon was the one helping him into the cab, sending him off with whispers of feel better and sorry.

Sorry for what? Seth had thought bitterly. This was my choice.

But as he sobered up he realized how regretful Stefon seemed, sorry for the way things played out but unable to apologize for the things he'd done.

His coworkers seemed to share Lorne's concern too, a few of them calling to make sure he was okay. Stefon was not among them.

He felt bitter anger at Stefon for leaving even though Seth told him to. He felt hurt that Stefon didn't even have the decency to accompany him home even as he begged him to come back, a drunken mess, as he piled into the back seat. And as he recounts these feelings to his therapist now, weeks— a few months later, he feels the same bitterness and hurt rising.

Stefon has moved on to a familiar white-haired news anchor, a relationship he has to watch blossom from his office chair as he gazes longingly out the window towards the too-fancy car at the now sober man he misses more than his own family.

Seth wonders aloud how long this has been going on.