Club - a Breddy Fanfic.

102) Eddy?

Is that a different voice? Oh no, more people in the room? Does he know this voice? It's like he's on the Mont Blanc, the air so thin it's suffocating. Desperately he tries to get a grip to what's happening. But he can't. He just can't. God, please... He needs... He desperately needs...
"Eddy-"
It's just a mere whisper, but everything quiets around him. He doesn't know whether the voices have left, or if all the sounds are being sucked out of the room. The silence is deafening, darkness everywhere, wetness from his own tears falling from his tightly closed eyes on the knees he's hugging. Finally a sob escapes, breaking the spell of quietude.
"Eddy, please-" he repeats desperately. 'Please-' he mouths against his knees, but doesn't voice.

"That's it. I'm calling him."
"It's the middle of the night!"
"And? I would want people to call me if you were in this kind of state. I'm calling."
Shards of whispering voices enter Brett's tomb, floating like small silver moths, their soft wings reflecting sliver moonlight from somewhere, punching small holes in the void. A bit of the fog clears as the voices keep talking around him and he tries to listen what they are saying. Who are they talking about? Where is he?

"Brett?"

His name spoken almost visibly written in golden letters, floating like fireflies in the dark around him.

"Brett? Answer me, love."

Wait. Brett blinks and stops crying so he can listen more closely.
Can it be? Eddy?

"Brett. Listen to my voice. Wake up. Come back to us, love."

Brett lifts his head slightly and opens his eyes. A bright lit screen lies on his bed besides him, lighting up his bed and the room, draws his attention to it. He straightens some more and looks around. Although his vision is blurry still, he can see two images sitting by his bed now.

"Brett?" Eddy's voice says through the phone speaker.

"Yeah?" Brett answers, his voice wavering, but his breath is slowly steadying now.

"Look at me, love. Only at me. Can you do that for me?"

Brett reaches over and with a trembling hand he picks the phone up.
"Eddy?" he whispers softly to the image on the screen, not trusting what he sees. Dark hair, brown eyes. The camera is highly unsteady and Brett can't figure out if that's due to himself shaking or because of the image itself. Fact is that he can clearly see that it is Eddy on the other side and Brett is glued to the screen. It's like Eddy is a patronus chasing a dementor away, sunlight piercing through the fog.

"Listen, love. I'm coming over right now."

Brett blinks hard to stop himself from bawling right this minute. Eddy is coming? To him?

"Hold on just a bit longer, alright?"

"Okay." Brett manages as a treacherous tear rolls from the side of his eye.

"Talk to Mason until I'm with you. I'll be there very soon. Can you do that for me?"

Brett nods to the phone and takes a deep, shaky breath. He uncurls by sliding his legs onto the bed. Another deep breath. This time it's more stable.

"That's it, mate. Breathe." Mason says softly.

Brett leans back and watches his breathing. He's coming down. Finally. Reality floods back in and he knows where he is and with whom.

"Shit." he mutters into the air. "This wasn't funny."
He then opens his eyes and looks at his friends near him. Even without his glasses he can see them now. Mason sports a worried face. Behind him is Timo. Both are in nightwear. Poor guys. He must have startled them.
"Sorry, Mase, Timo." he says softly.

"Nothing to be sorry about." Mason assures. He puts a hand on his leg and squeezes it. This time Brett doesn't kick it away. "I couldn't get you out of it. It's been a long time since that happened." he adds softly, worry in his voice. Brett knows Mason is not judging. It's just an observation.

"You got me out some." Brett breathes in and out deeply, relaxing more. "It hasn't been this bad in a long time." He shakes his head sideways and immediately grabs his temples. "Ow. Headache."

"I'll get some aspirin for you." Mason gets up and walks out of the room, towards the kitchen where they keep their medicine.
Timo scoots closer and glances sympathetically at Brett.

"Don't, mate." Brett says. He doesn't want pity. "Sorry you had to wake up to this." He gestures feebly towards himself.

"Don't worry about that. Sorry you had to wake up like that." Timo returns. "But I do understand things a bit better now."

Just as Brett wants to ask what 'everything' is, they hear voices in the hallway.
"Oh, fuck. I've woken Vincent and Peter as well?" Brett grunts. "Shit!"
Thank God they are not coming in. He can't deal with more pitiful glances directed at him. His head is trying its best to split in two now. The light hurts but he doesn't dare to close his eyes, scared to invite the darkness in again. What is taking Mason so long? His head is killing him.
He hasn't finished that thought when he hears quick footsteps approaching and the door slams open. But it's not Mason who enters in a hurry.

"Eddy!" The word hasn't left his mouth and Eddy is on his bed, his arms around him. They are strong, spreading a warmth that chases the cold away he didn't even know had settled there. The hug is solid and not tightening at all like he experienced in the dream, of which memories flood back in like shards of misery. Soft, sweet, comforting words are whispered in his ear. And he could cry with relief because of Eddy being here. Since he can't help it, he actually does: big drops start to overflow from a well that has been so long under the surface he almost forgot it existed, forming a constant stream without an end, possible because he's safe in the arms of his knight in shining armour.

Brett wraps his arms around Eddy, digs his face in his lovers neck and cries and cries all the stress and anxiety built up in his past nightmare and maybe even last few years away.
He vaguely notices Mason and Timo closing the bedroom door behind them, leaving him alone with Eddy. He will thank them later on, but right now Eddy being here is the only thing important.