Questionable Choices [Yan!DSMP x Reader]

Chapter 23: R nvzmg rg, blf pmld

T/W: Mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, mentions of bruises

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"So, from what I'm hearing, it's been going a little bit better, correct?" Ponk looks at you with his head tilted and you simply shrugs, your leg shaking because of restlessness.

"I guess? I mean, I still feel shitty most of the time and I barely can get out of bed, but it's gotten easier."

"That's amazing to hear. It's also good to hear that you know what's been helping and what hasn't. Knowing that you're not okay is one thing, but knowing what does and what doesn't help is a next step to getting better, even if it means experimenting with all of it."

"Well, yeah, and that's cool and all, but am I really not okay? I mean, when I'm with friends or doing something I enjoy, I'm happy, and then when I get home or when I'm just not doing those things, I feel like shit. Isn't that just normal? I mean, what if I'm just deceiving myself, you know?"

"Being mentally ill doesn't mean you're sad all the time. You said it yourself: you used to feel so terrible every single day, but the fact that you're now having more and more happy moments, is a good thing. It means that it's not as severe as it used to be."

"I mean, I'm sure that's all true and all, but you know. It's not like I actively want to throw myself off the Devil's Bridge anymore, so have I not already gotten better?"

"Not everyone who's mentally ill wants to actively kill themselves. Not everyone who's feeling like shit and in need of help, wants to die." After saying this, you fall silent. So, Ponk continues. "But even if you had gotten better, do you feel like our sessions help?" When you nod, he smiles. "Well then, what does it matter? You have to give it time. Even if you're doing better, relapses are quite common and I think that, if our sessions help you, there's no reason not to keep having them. I believe there's still a lot to work on, after all. Speaking of which, could you tell me a bit about your love life?" As soon as he speaks those last two words, you freeze.

"Why the fuck does that matter?" you snarl right away and Ponk lets out a short chuckle.

"It's a sensitive subject, isn't it?" When you don't know how to reply, he continues. "If you feel uncomfortable with any of the questions, you only have to say so, but let me just ask you this, Y/N: what was Sally to you?" You'd already told Ponk the story, so he knows exactly what happened to her. About how her body was so messed up and the weird, dark substance seemingly coming out of it. About how, after freaking out, you just buried her in your backyard. So, you barely understand where this question comes from.

You haven't said anything about your relationship, after all.

"She was my friend," you mumble, hugging yourself a bit as you don't dare looking at Ponk. "She was my friend, nothing more, nothing less." When Ponk keeps looking at you for a bit longer, you almost feel your stomach turn. "I guess we kind of were together," you mumble, "but we never really labelled each other anything else than friends. And she didn't really want to tell anyone. She didn't really want to tell anyone either that she was alive and well anyway, so you know."

"Your relationship was a secret?"

"Yeah. The only one even knowing that she lived with me was Quackity. But yeah, we were together. She was the only one I've ever loved in a romantic way. But I don't know, it didn't mean all that much."

"It seems to me like it did, Y/N. How long were you two together?"

"Two to three years," you mumble, barely even being able to comprehend for how long the two of you had been together. "Sally mostly stayed home through it all, but for some reason, she refused to tell anyone who she really was. She worked at the Manifold Hotel for a while, due to my friendship with him, but other than that, barely went outside. That was when I had to get a part-time job that paid very badly."