Time After Time

Nightmare Mind

Scott watched the clock beside him, counting the seconds until it read 2AM. Mitch was curled up beside him, sound asleep and snoring lightly. Scott rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He was trying his best not to let his fear show when he was around his boyfriend, but, as Mitch was safely away in a dream, the blonde was being attacked by terror that he couldn't suppress. He felt as though he was being strangled by his thoughts, the thoughts of every possibility that could unfold. Scott was fearful of losing Mitch, or of hurting him. He could see through the countertenor's facade, and he knew that they were both afraid, albeit for different reasons. But then again, were their fears really that different? Scott exhaled deeply and wiped his face with the palms of his hands.

He glanced over at Mitch, and found himself unable to prevent himself from smiling slightly. The brunette was both the cause of his fear, and the only cure he could find. Mitch was like the most addictive, most potent drug in existence to the blonde, and, because of this, Scott wasn't willing to give him up. He couldn't see a way of getting through life without Mitch by his side.

To say he was scared was an understatement, really. He was absolutely fucking terrified to the point that it hurt. He felt sick, he felt as though he had a pair of cold hands gripping his throat and squeezing tight. He was terrified of learning the true extent of Mitch's pain, but it was agony for him to remain unaware. He was terrified that Mitch would turn back to blades, but he couldn't stop the countertenor if he did, really, could he? He was terrified that Mitch really wasn't eating, but, deep down, he knew his suspicions were correct. He was terrified that Mitch would leave, or worse, Mitch would decide that life wasn't worth living any more. But, most of all, Scott was terrified of becoming another ex-boyfriend that hurt the brunette. He didn't want to be the reason for Mitch getting any worse.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Scott felt his eyes well up. He didn't know what to do, or who to tell. But he couldn't keep it to himself. Letting out a shaky breath, Scott rolled onto his side, so that he was facing Mitch and felt as though he had been stabbed straight through the heart. Mitch's face was twisted with pain, and after a few moments, he began to thrash wildly, whimpering. Paralyzed by fear, Scott stared, at his boyfriend his teary eyes wide. What was he supposed to do? Did he grab the other man? Did he talk to him? How was he supposed to wake him up? Panicking now, Scott reached a shaking arm towards his boyfriend, but then withdrew it, snatching it away and clutching it to his chest.

Scott didn't have to be asleep to have nightmares; watching Mitch suffer was his nightmare. It was his constant nightmare from which he could not awake. Scott found himself unable to breathe properly as he stared at the brunette, hyperventilating as his brain provided him with nonsense phrases and ideas that he could not comprehend. The room felt as if it was spinning, and Scott could still hear Mitch's pained cries. With tears streaming down his face, Scott managed to force himself to grab one of Mitch's arms, but he promptly let go, afraid that Mitch would think that he was trying to harm him. 

"Mitch, wake up," the blonde managed to force out through tears and panicked breaths. He lifted one of Mitch's hands and held it, kissed it, then rubbed soothing circles on it with his thumb. He used his other hand to stroke Mitch's now-tear drenched cheek as his own gasping slowed to shaky, shuddery breaths. As Scott began to calm, Mitch did too, and Scott pressed his lips to his boyfriend's wet cheek, "I love you," he whispered to the countertenor, who was still asleep.

He rested his head back on his pillow, his hand still holding one of Mitch's smaller pair. He gently wiped away a few tears from both of their faces, and gazed at the sleeping Mitch. He had to help Mitch - he had to find a way to get Mitch to tell him the true extent of his pain. Scott genuinely wanted to punch each and every one single one of the men that had been cruel enough to inflict this pain on the kind countertenor. Mitch was a good person - sure, he was a bit socially awkward and he was a little more sensitive than most men, but he was kind, and he was incredibly patient. He definitely did not deserve whatever those men (if they could even call themselves that) had done to him. Scott was determined to help Mitch fight. He knew that he would literally do anything that Mitch asked of him.

The younger man had become the baritone's oxygen, his water, his food. Mitch really was everything. That broken countertenor was the only thing that made Scott happy. The realization hit the older man hard, and he choked out a strangled sob. He was broken too. And the only way he could fix himself was to help Mitch.