One Last Shot

[25] Cleaning the Room

            Liam

CW: References of suicide.

I follow Iris and Lilly out of the den of disaster and depression, and into the kitchen. I see Iris squint, her eyes adjusting to the light, and reassuringly grab her hand, squeezing it. She looks up at me, a faint smile on her face, lost of color.

"I have dinner," Violet pushes a plate forward. "Chicken nuggets."

"Dino nuggets," Marcus corrects.

"Thanks," Iris sits down at the counter, eating slowly. Everybody watches her, but her back tenses, her shoulders rising, and I sense it's too much for her.

"Why don't we go," I gesture for everyone to head anywhere but the kitchen.

"Let me show you the back deck," Marcus smiles. "You haven't seen it yet and we're prepping it for some pretty crazy parties." I nod, following him and Violet to the back. Outside, the cold air nips at my cheeks, and I let out a long sigh.

"Thank you," Violet says once the door is closed.

"For?"

"Getting her to open that damn door," Marcus huffs, running a hair through his hair. "I can't believe it got this bad."

"She doesn't deal with death much, and the guilt of this one really weighed on her."

"I almost called Tiffany."

"Iris would've hated you more for that," Violet chuckles.

"Imagine, Tiffany barging in with DVD's of '10 Things I Hate About You' and 'Can't Buy Me Love' screaming for Iris for a girls night," Marcus cackles. "No one does it like Tiffany." Marcus and Violet stop laughing and turn to me. Their eyes are sad, still recovering from trying to help Iris and failing.

"Lilly told you, didn't she?" Violet asks as she reads my eyes and body language.

"About the attempt?" I croak out. Violet nods her head sadly. "Yeah."

"Don't treat her any differently, okay? She hates being pitied."

"She has depression, she's tried to kill herself before, how am I not supposed to treat her differently?"

"She's no different than the Iris you've always known. She's just good at hiding it."

"Yeah but that's not healthy! She has opened up to me about a breakup, and not this!"

"She told you about Megan?" Violet asks, her eyes wide. I nod, still frustrated at what Marcus just said.

"Just treat her the same, okay?" Marcus reiterates.

"I want to help."

"No." Marcus' voice is stern. "If you care about her at all, even just as a friend, you won't do that."

"Why?"

"She'll hate you more than words can describe. She believes only she should help herself."

"Is she actively looking into therapy?"

"Gee, why don't you ask her yourself?" I hear a witty remark from behind me. I turn around to see Iris standing at the now open door. "Yes, I'm actively looking into therapy. Thanks for caring."

"It's cold, can we go in now?" Violet asks. Marcus nods quickly before we rush back inside.

"So, how was the back deck?" Iris asks, as the two of us linger in the living room.

"Iris."

"Listen pretty boy, I don't need you of all people telling me how I should deal with my own mental illness."

"Even your rude remarks are weak."

"Excuse me? I'm offended."

"Okay."

"You're an ass, you know that?"

"An ass that would like to help."

"Go to hell."

"More like therapy." She shoots me a piercing glare. I can't help but smile a little bit smugly, knowing that she also thought that was funny, by the way her mouth quirks upward as she looks at me.

"You're an ass, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," I roll my eyes, walking closer, placing my hands on her waist. "Let me help?"

"I hate that I have to look up at you."

"Let me help?" I won't let her change the subject.

With a sigh of defeat, she rolls her head into my chest while mumbling, "Fine."

"Alright, we get started right now! We are cleaning your room."

"I don't even like doing that when I'm not depressed," she whines.

"Well, you will today." Dragging her by the hand to her room, we get started. I throw some music on, finding her Spotify and putting on one of her longer playlists. Grabbing a trash bag, we throw any and all trash in sight and stuffed away behind dressers, desks, and beds into the bag, before starting on the laundry. Within two hours, the room is clean, and it's 1 A.M.

"I think I've overstayed my welcome," I chuckle, looking at the time. "We'll pick up tomorrow?"

"I need alone time." She blurts it out, almost as if she's telling me horrible news.

"Okay?"

"Like, when I'm recovering. I like to be with people, but I need to ease back into it. Maybe I'll go to the basketball game in two days."

"Okay. We can talk later about what you're comfortable with."

"Thanks," she cracks a smile. "Maybe you're not so bad."

"I'm sorry, could you say that again? I wasn't recording." I laugh, as she rolls her eyes.

"I retract, I retract. You're a horrible person."

"That's more like it," I click my tongue on the roof of my mouth before turning on my heels to leave. I grab my coat, which I hurriedly threw on the floor trying to get to her room, and leave. Sneaking back into the house, all the guys are gathered around the couch.

"Is she okay?" Jasper asks anxiously.

"She will be."

"Did you help?" Archer asks.

"As much as I could."

"You're a good guy, Bender," Lix smiles.

"Just doing what I can for a friend."

"Friend?" Grayson raises an eyebrow. "When did that happen?"

"It didn't. Slip up on my part. Erase it from your memory."

"Mhm," Jasper snickers, before I retreat to my room, collapsing on the bed.