Push.

8. You Don't Owe Me, We Might Just Change It

Author's Note: Happy Friday! This one's a little short. But don't worry, it'll hit you in the feels as usual. :)

8. You Don't Owe Me, We Might Just Change It

Scott walked him to his therapy appointment in an awkward silence.

Mitch could feel his own body shaking.

Scott reached for his hand and squeezed it, wordlessly.

Mitch glanced up at the taller man. He looked like he hadn't slept. Mitch's heart broke for him.

It meant the world to him, that small gesture of grabbing his hand, and the ice in Mitch's veins warmed up for just a moment.

The door opened before Mitch had registered that Scott had knocked, and Dr. Chastain smiled warmly at them.

"Nice to see you both. Mitch, come on in."

Mitch walked in as though he was walking to his execution.

And it appeared that he was, he realized, as his gaze came to rest on Nurse Bailey and a large staff member whom he had never met.

He backed up until his back met a larger frame. He knew that he was pressed up against Scott, but the contact was far from comforting.

"Mitch, sit down, please? Scott can stay, if you'd like," Dr. Chastain offered, softly.

"What's going on?" Mitch asked with a shaky breath, and turned on his heel to look into Scott's eyes.

Scott Hoying's eyes were the most expressive ones that Mitch had ever seen. Right now, he could see his entire heart and soul, and they were in pain. Excruciatingly so.

"It's okay, Mitch. I'm here."

"Are you leaving me here?"

Scott's eyes widened for a split second, and they sparkled with unshed tears as he reached for his hand. "Let's just sit down, okay?"

Mitch was on autopilot as Scott led him to the couch with which he had become so familiar.

He could fight this. He could start screaming. He could push, pull, punch, bite...

But that would get him nowhere. He knew that.

He looked at Scott's face again. It was as though the man was held together with loose strings that were unraveling slowly in front of him, and that he had mere minutes before he fell apart.

It was time to ease his pain.

So he turned to Dr. Chastain. "What's next?" His voice was barely a whisper, and his eyes welled with tears with each word.

"We are going to admit you today. Your parents have signed off. This is not a voluntary stay, Mitch, so you will be here until we deem you fit to leave. Just like last time, if you put in the work, your stay here with us will be short and sweet. Right?" Dr. Chastain spoke with a softness in her voice that should have made this less scary, but suddenly Mitch felt like he wanted to throw up in her trashcan again, the way he had the day that Scott disappeared.

His Scott.

Mitch nodded, his stare glued to the floor in front of him, and he squeezed the hand that he was still holding. "Okay."

"Is Scott still going to work on the residential floor?" Mitch finally asked, hopefully, after a tense silence while Dr. Chastain completed some paperwork.

Scott turned to him, and he could already tell what the answer was going to be.

"I'm going to finish my fieldwork in a different department, Mitch. It wouldn't be good for you to see me."