Time After Time

The Only Way

Scott stared blankly at his phone, time passing slowly around him as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. He didn’t know what to do anymore. It was a little past ten AM, and he was absolutely exhausted. At any other time, he would have stayed in bed to rest, but he hadn’t considered that to be a possibility that day. He’d managed to steal about an hour of sleep, and had been rudely awakened by a nightmare. As soon as he’d come to, he turned to face Mitch and saw the younger man tossing and turning in his sleep. All of this, Scott knew, was fairly normal, but Scott had seen the bruises across Mitch’s arms. He had decided to go out and grab himself a coffee before getting back to the apartment and curling up on the couch. Now that he was there, he had no idea what he should do next. He didn’t want to be around Mitch. He was scared, and he was angry. He didn’t trust himself – he knew that if he was given the opportunity, he would confront the countertenor, and Scott knew that that wouldn’t help either of them. Letting out a sign, the blonde ran his hands through his hair and then left the apartment.

After driving around for an hour or so, he found himself outside of Avi and Kevin’s place. Unsure of how he ended up there, he sent the bass a text and, within a few minutes, Avi was standing next to Scott with a look of pure concern. The pair headed inside, and sat on the couch and began to talk.

“He doesn’t eat, he’s got bruises up his arms – Avi, how can I keep him safe when he’s hurting himself? How the fuck do I protect him from himself?” the baritone began, “He won’t listen to me, he thinks I’m going to hurt him and I don’t know what to do because I can’t lose him, I really can’t,” Scott rambled on, and Avi just sat there and listened. Within five minutes, Scott was a sobbing mess, and Avi was trying his best to comfort the blonde. The bass couldn’t help but to admire the way Scott was confessing his insecurities and fears, but, at the same time, he knew that the younger man had clearly been pushed to the edge. Avi knew that Scott cared about Mitch, and no, he could see that Scott cared too much. Scott had dedicated his life to keeping Mitch safe and, somewhere along the line, he’d become so obsessed with defending the countertenor that he’d forgotten how to function without the small brunette. Avi didn’t need to be told that Scott loved Mitch. That was clear just from the way Scott spoke.

“I think we need to get him into therapy,” a quiet voice from the edge of the room said. Kevin had heard most of the blonde’s words, and could understand Scott’s concern. The beatboxer made his way over to the other men and perched himself on the arm of the couch.

“He’ll never agree,” Scott managed to say as he tried to dry his blue eyes. His attempts were to no avail, however, as his eyes soon filled with liquid that dripped down his face.

“Perhaps we could convince him somehow?” Kevin suggested. Avi shook his head.

“Sorry – I’m with Scott on this one,” the bass said, tilting his head in the direction of the blonde as a way of indicating exactly whom he was agreeing with.

“There must be something we can do. If we don’t stage some sort of intervention, he will get worse,” Kevin’s words were blunt, and hit Scott like a harsh slap. The baritone let out a loud sob and covered his face. His body began to shake slightly, and Avi wrapped a tentative arm around his friend’s shoulder.

“It’ll be okay. Mitch will be okay,” the bass whispered in an attempt to reassure the younger man, who was crying loudly. The blonde managed to speak through heaving breaths, forcing out as many words as he could before the fear consumed him.

“He won’t. He’s stubborn – he’ll never listen to us and so he’ll end up dead. I wish he’d hurry up and do it so that I can put a stop to all of this.” Avi and Kevin shared identical looks of confusion, until Kevin’s face grew into one of realization and pure terror.

“You don’t mean that,” he managed to squeak out.

“I can’t live without him, but I can’t live with him when he’s like this,” Scott mumbled against the palms of his hands, which were still covering his now-red tear-streaked face.

“He’s not going to die, Scott. We won’t let him,” Avi said, but there was a hint of doubt in his deep voice. Mitch had attempted suicide before – he could easily try again. Avi took a deep breath as he continued to try and calm the quivering blonde. He couldn’t pick out the individual errors that had led to this situation anymore. All he knew was that it was a lot worse than he’d realized. A few hours later, once the tears had dried and the erratic breaths had slowed, Scott made his way back home. His friends had asked if they could speak to Mitch themselves, as they knew that the baritone was definitely not in the right state of mind to hear about any of it.

Kevin was sitting on his couch, and Avi was in the kitchen, hunting through the cupboards for his prey.

“There’s literally no food in here,” he grumbled.

“Order something then,” the beatboxer called back.

“Barbeque!” Avi declared, walking into the living room. After placing their order, the bass joined his friend on the couch.

“They’re worse than I thought,” Kevin sighed.

“Do you think Scott was being serious?”

“What do you mean?”

“If something happened to Mitch, would Scott really... You know...” Avi trailed off awkwardly.

“I wouldn’t like to say... Which is why we’re going to get them out of this rut.”

“How?”

“Make them talk.”