Time After Time

A Helping Hand

Scott was sitting on the couch with Wyatt asleep in his lap, staring disinterestedly at the TV with red rimmed eyes. Watching Spongebob wasn't as much fun without Mitch. The blonde cast a quick glance in the direction of the other man's bedroom and sighed. He hadn't heard Mitch's sobs for a few hours or so now, which filled him with a mixture of relief and dread. He wanted to make sure that the smaller man was okay, but he was too afraid. What if Mitch really wasn't okay? What if Mitch had done something stupid? With tears in his eyes, Scott picked up the cat, startling the Sphynx, and hugged him close to his chest. Scott couldn't allow himself to think of the possibilities. After a few minutes of crying into Wyatt's back, Scott finally felt that he had regained enough composure to check on his best friend. Setting the hairless cat down beside him, Scott rose to his feet and headed towards Mitch's bedroom as Spongebob laughed in the background.

Not bothering to knock, Scott cautiously opened the door and looked inside. Mitch was asleep in his bed, thrashing wildly, crying silent tears. Time stopped for a moment as Scott watched in horror as Mitch fell from the bed, awaking almost instantly with a deafening scream. After racing to the countertenor's side, Scott knelt down beside him. Mitch looked up at him with fearful brown eyes that threatened to overflow, his bottom lip quivering.

"Let's help you back into bed, okay?" Scott whispered soothingly, reaching out a hand. Mitch slapped it away, shaking his head violently as he sat up and pushed himself backward, creating a larger distance between the pair. Scott tried again, moving closer to his friend, who in return moved himself away. Sighing in defeat, Scott climbed to his feet and walked towards the door, "I hate seeing you like this, Mitchie," he whispered as he left, fresh tears burning in his eyes. One day. It had been one day. Scott felt as if his heart would break. He sent a text to Kirstie in which he practically begged his friend to come to his apartment. Scott found himself smiling slightly when she informed him that she'd be there within an hour, and moved back to his space on the couch with Wyatt.

Forty minutes passed and Kirstie knocked at the door and was promptly let in by Scott, whose face still showed evidence of the tears he'd shed. Kirstie had concern etched over her pretty face as soon as she caught a glimpse of Scott's eyes, which he had attempted to hide by staring at the floor.

"What's wrong?" she asked, frowning slightly as Scott closed the door behind her. He was glaring holes into the floor, so the long haired woman reached a gentle hand up to lift his chin. Her expression fell further as she was able to take in the sight of Scott's face, who forced his eyes shut as she stared.

"Mitch. Mitch he- he and now- I-," Scott stuttered out as he broke down. A worried Kirstie watched as Scott allowed himself to fall back against the wall behind him, leaning his weight on it as he covered his face with his hands. The dark eyed woman opened her mouth to say something, then changed her mind and opted for a different approach.

"Is Mitch okay?" she finally said, reaching a hand out to touch her friend's arm.

"I told him- I told him that he wasn't the one- that h-he was like the rest," Scott forced out through sobs. Kirstie bit her lip, and then took a deep breath.

"Do you know what happened?"

"He's shutting me out again, Kirst. I don't - I don't know what to do," Scott cried. Kirstie hugged the tall man, murmuring soothing words to him as he cried.

"Do you want me to try talking to him?" she whispered, glancing up at the blonde, who nodded.

She pulled away and headed towards the room she knew belonged to Mitch. Carefully, she opened the door and her eyes fell upon the shaking heap that was collapsed on the bed. She shut the door behind her, all too aware that the brunette man would not speak with her without privacy. "Mitch?" she spoke quietly to the younger man as she approached him. He turned to face her.

"I suppose Scott sent you?" he questioned, his voice hoarse.

"No, I came around to keep him company - he's a mess without you, you know? And I think you need him too," Kirstie said softly, perching herself awkwardly on the edge of her friend's bed.

"He'd be better without me," Mitch whispered, barely audible, but the words still reached the long haired woman's ears. She reached out her hand and took hold of one of Mitch's trembling hands.

"We both know that's not true. Well all need you, Mitch. Push me away; push everyone else away, but stay close to Scott? Please?" Kirstie was practically begging. Mitch took a deep breath.

"I can't, Kirst. You know I can't,"

"You love him," she said simply.

"I know."