WHAT IF

CHAPTER SEVEN

It had been a month since Babe was discharged from the hospital, and his speech had yet to return. Charlie, remembering the doctor's advice about seeking professional help if Babe didn't start speaking soon, decided it was time to take action. With the support of Alan and the rest of their friends, they agreed that seeing a therapist might be the best way to help Babe heal.

Charlie had been doing his best to maintain a calm and supportive environment at home. He spoke to Babe frequently, sharing stories, memories, and plans for the future, hoping that the familiar sound of his voice would provide some comfort. But despite his efforts, Babe remained silent, his eyes often distant and lost in thought.

One morning, after another night spent in the guest room to give Babe space, Charlie decided to bring up the idea of seeing a therapist.

"Babe," Charlie began gently as they sat together at the breakfast table, "I've been thinking a lot about what the doctor said. It's been a month, and I know it's been hard for you. I think it might help if we talked to someone who can help us understand what you're going through."

Babe looked at him, his expression unreadable, but Charlie pressed on, hoping his sincerity would reach him.

"We all care about you so much, and we want to do everything we can to help you get better. Alan, Jeff, Sonic, North-they're all here for you too. We've found a really good therapist who specializes in trauma and anxiety. We can go together if you want, or I can wait for you outside. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

There was a long pause as Babe stared at his untouched food. Finally, he nodded slightly, a small but significant sign of agreement. Charlie felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"Thank you, Babe," he said softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "We'll get through this together, I promise."

Later that day, Charlie made the necessary arrangements with the therapist, feeling a renewed sense of hope. When the appointment day arrived, Alan and the others showed up at the house to offer their support.

"We're here for you, Babe," Alan said warmly, giving him a reassuring smile. "You've got this." The friends said their goodbyes and let charlie take babe to therapy.

As they drove to the therapist's office, Charlie kept a steady stream of light conversation going, talking about anything and everything to keep Babe's mind occupied. When they arrived, Charlie could see the anxiety in Babe's eyes, but he gently guided him inside, never letting go of his hand.

The therapist, Dr. Marisa, welcomed them with a calm and friendly demeanor. "It's nice to meet you both," she said. "Babe, I understand that you're going through a very tough time right now, and I'm here to help you in any way I can. We'll take this at your own pace, okay?"

Babe nodded, and Charlie felt a surge of gratitude towards Dr. Marisa for her understanding and gentle approach.

As the session began, Charlie watched as Dr. Marisa guided Babe through various exercises designed to help him express his feelings, even without words. She encouraged him to use other forms of communication, like writing or drawing, to help him process his emotions.

Charlie sat quietly, giving Babe the space he needed while still being a constant source of support. He saw small signs of progress-Babe's body language became slightly more relaxed, and there were moments when he seemed more engaged with Dr. Marisa's prompts.

After the session, Dr. Marisa spoke with Charlie privately. "He's made some progress today," she said. "It's going to take time, but I believe he can regain his speech. The most important thing is that he feels safe and supported, which you're clearly providing."

Charlie nodded, feeling both hopeful and determined. "Thank you, Dr. Marisa. We'll do whatever it takes."

As they left the office, Babe looked at Charlie, a hint of something in his eyes that Charlie couldn't quite place-maybe hope, maybe gratitude.

"We're on the right path, Babe," Charlie said, squeezing his hand. "One step at a time, we'll get through this."

Babe's response was a gentle squeeze back, a silent affirmation that he was willing to keep trying. Charlie's heart swelled with emotion, knowing that they were taking the first steps towards healing, together.

Charlie and Babe continued their therapy sessions diligently, and little by little, signs of progress began to emerge. Babe started to smile more often, and the fear that once flashed in his eyes at Charlie's touch was replaced by a sense of comfort and security. He even began to seek out Charlie's presence, craving the warmth of his embrace. This newfound closeness led Charlie to move back into their shared bed, where they spent countless nights cuddled up together, finding solace in each other's presence.

One evening, after another productive therapy session, they lay in bed, the room softly illuminated by the bedside lamp. Babe nestled against Charlie, his head resting on Charlie's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The silence was no longer heavy or uncomfortable but filled with a quiet sense of peace.

Charlie stroked Babe's hair gently, his mind drifting to the many conversations they had shared in this very bed before everything changed. He missed hearing Babe's voice, missed the playful banter and heartfelt talks that had been a staple of their relationship. As much as he cherished these silent moments of connection, he longed to hear Babe speak again.

As if in response to his thoughts, Babe stirred slightly, shifting his position so he could look up at Charlie. There was a soft, almost hesitant look in his eyes, as if he was about to say something but wasn't quite sure how.

Charlie smiled down at him, his voice tender. "Hey, you okay?"

Babe's lips parted, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, in a voice that was soft and a little raspy from disuse, he whispered, "Charlie."

Charlie's heart skipped a beat. He blinked, wondering if he had imagined it. "Babe, did you just...?"

"Charlie," Babe repeated, a little louder this time, his eyes filling with tears. It was the first word he had spoken in months, and it carried with it all the love, relief, and hope he had been unable to express.

Charlie felt his own tears welling up. He cupped Babe's face in his hands, his voice shaking with emotion. "Babe, you spoke! I can't believe it!"

Babe nodded, his tears now spilling over. "Charlie...I...missed you," he managed to say, his voice breaking but full of sincerity.

Charlie pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him as if he never wanted to let go. "I missed you too, Babe. So much. I'm so proud of you."

They held each other for a long time, both crying and laughing with joy. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted, and for the first time in a long while, there was a sense of hope that things would get better.

In the days that followed, Babe's speech gradually returned, becoming stronger and more confident with each passing day.