Push.

22. I Want to Take You for Granted

22. I Want to Take You for Granted

Mitch stared at the too-white ceiling, in his too-white room, the next night.

The silence was deafening, as he thought about what he had done.

"Please... hurts..."

The whispered words taunted him.

He had voluntarily admitted himself earlier that afternoon.

Scott had not accompanied him this time, because he hadn't told him.

In fact, he had left Scott's apartment without a single word.

His heart ached as he thought of the man.

Scott had just been physically assaulted. And then he had been emotionally abandoned.

And it was all. Mitch's. Fault.

He thanked God for Rozzi.

At least she was strong enough to help Scott through this. Lord knew that Mitch wasn't.

He thought back to his conversation with Dr. Chastain upon his arrival.

"I shouldn't be allowed near him ever again."

"Mitch, slow down."

"I hurt him. I ASSAULTED him."

"You're not well, Mitch. We have to figure out how to help you. How to get rid of this... demon."

"Please... please help me get rid of him. I want to get rid of him. I need to."

Easier said than done, Mitch realized, when he arrived back to his room on the third day.

"Get the fuck out of my room. I swear to God-."

"Wait. Please. Please, just wait," the hallucination pleaded. Mitch eyed the gash on his forehead, and noted the fading bruises beneath his eyes.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"I overreacted. I know. I just-."

"Overreacted? You probably SCARRED him!"

"The water wasn't hot enough to leave permanent damage-."

"I don't mean physically," Mitch snarled.

"I'm sorry, okay?!"

Scott's words were hysterical. His eyes were wide.

"I tried... I tried to punish myself today," Scott whispered.

For some reason, Mitch was overcome with nausea.

"What did you do?"

"I did... what I did to him. But I couldn't make it hot enough. So I did this instead."

He parted his hair, just above his forehead. There was a large gash, stretching across his entire hairline, above the damage that Mitch had caused.

Scott stared at the floor, his eyes welling with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. I wish I could stop this, but I just don't... know... how to let you be happy without me..."

He wasn't sure why, but he closed the distance between himself and the blond, wrapping his arms around his waist. He rested his head on the taller man's shoulder, inhaling the floral scent that had returned.

"I can't stay away from you. I can't let you go. I'm sorry, Mitch. I know that I'm... ruining everything."

For some reason, the idea of Scott punishing himself was too much to handle.