Redemption || MorMor

The Phase

Skin heels quicker than the mind. The blood clotted, the bruises faded, the cuts scarred, but the mental trauma took far longer to sink from the surface of his mind. It ruled his actions, distracted him from work. It was the sort of trauma that you stop to think about. The kind of trauma that makes everything else fall away as you try to fight your way out of the memory. It was the kind of trauma that made Sebastian hide himself away in the bathroom and run the tap as he cried with worry for his boyfriend. It was the kind of trauma that you're not sure how to fix. The kind of trauma you're not sure can be fixed.

He tried. They both tried. Seb offered all the support he could but didn't know what to do when it wasn't enough. Jim tried to force the feelings away but, sometimes, it just didn't work. Sometimes the feelings were too potent and crashed over him like a wave; he was just being swept along with the tide. Seb didn't know what to do when it got to a certain point. When Jim was crying, throwing things, turning all the lights on at 3 in the morning, screaming at him for trying to calm him down... Sebastian didn't know what to do. He would grab him and hold him down so he couldn't hit out. He'd hug him and hold him until he gave up.  Jim wouldn't remember anything the next day, he'd just have the overwhelming feeling of shame. Like Seb would have after a drunken night, not that he had them anymore: Jim was a full time, strictly-sober-only job. Seb would try not to give too much detail away about what he'd been up to, but he would coax it out of him. And finding out what he'd done only ever made him worse. It was a difficult period but they tried. That was all they could do.

"Come on, we're going for a meal." Sebastian muttered, his chin resting on the top of Jim's head. He was in his arms, his hands on his back. "I'm taking us out somewhere nice."

Jim opened his eyes and looked at him, pulling his head away from under his. "You are?"

"Yes. Come on."

"Wait, I need to get dressed if we're going out." Jim's voice had lost its emotion, its playfulness. Everything it used to be. It sounded dead. They were the same words, but they could have been coming from a robot. Seb nodded and let go of him so he could go over to the wardrobe and deliberate over outfits. "Are you going casually or are you dressing up?" Jim asked. 

"I'm going like this, love," Seb chuckled, looking down at himself in a reddish t-shirt and jeans. 

Jim frowned and put his suit back onto the rung, clearly disappointed. "Oh."

"But if you want to dress up, Jimmy, you can. It's just that I'm not going to."

Then Jim smiled brightly and Seb felt a weight lift off his chest. Maybe today was going to be better. Today was going to be a good day.

So Jim put one of his favourite Westwood suits on and Seb did his tie, like he always did. It felt like normal, like they'd gone back to how things were before Mycroft took him. Seb took him by the hand and led him to the car. He drove them to a post restaurant where he'd reserved a table. A nice waitress showed them their table in the corner, in an alcove. 

"Goodness gracious me, we're like a normal couple." Seb said and then they both laughed. It was great to see him happy for once. Seb reached across and held his hand on top of the table. "We're going to get you better, Jim. I promise. I'm not giving up on you. Not now, not ever."

He smiled and it almost reached his eyes, "thank you." Then he looked down at the menu and Seb saw the obvious struggle on his face. 

"You don't need to have much. Just what you can," Seb reassured him. "It's okay." 

Jim nodded and read through the options, "I'll have... I think I'll have the lasagne."

Seb smiled at the large portion size he had chosen, "I'm going to have the steak I think. Bloody."