Roadtrip Oneshots

Rack, Bipolar Disorder

Requested by betterbebeaumont. I researched into this, so... enjoy! xx
❤️❤️
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Jack

The second I went in to wake up my boyfriend I could already tell that he was experiencing one of his extreme lows.

How could I tell? He was wide awake beneath his covers, faced away from the door, blank expression on his face. I saw this as I climbed up his stairs, sighed softly as I gently and slowly made my way over.

His eyes flitted over to me once, his warm brown eyes having lost their spark for the time being, but apart from that he didn't make a single move.

"Morning love." I whispered with a smile, and reached over to brush his hair from in front of his eyes.

"Hey." He mumbled.

I watched as Rye pulled the covers up and over his head, and curled up even more.

"Rye, come on." I pleaded, wrestled the blankets.

But Rye was stubborn this morning too, it seemed. I relented with a heavy sigh, but plonked myself on his bed, my hand rubbing his back through the covers. Rye stayed silent.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. And everything's wrong."

His covers muffled his words somewhat, but I could still make them out.

It hurt me to see him like this, to know that there wasn't really anything I could do to help him.

"Okay. And what makes you say that love?" I asked, hoped that he'd emerge from his covers.

He didn't, and I bit my lip. I could almost hear his mind turning, not quite sure how to answer, I guessed.

"Hey it's alright, take your time." I murmured.

There was silence for a few minutes at least, but I didn't push him. He wouldn't talk if I pushed, instead he'd close himself off some more.

"I just don't want to get up Jackie." He finally whispered.

"And why's that?"

"I don't know." Came his muffled voice.

I stopped rubbing his back, and gently pulled on his covers. He didn't try and fight me this time, instead he let me pull the covers away. He turned over so that he was looking at me, and I smiled at him. He tried to smile back, bless him, but it didn't quite turn out as he planned. More of a grimace.

I shifted closer to my boyfriend, and he laid his head down on my lap. I played with his hair, and he closed his eyes.

"I don't feel like doing anything today. It's like I've got no energy. I feel empty. Sad. Cold." He listed off quietly. "I don't like this feeling Jack."

I listened intently, took in every word he said. He felt like this sometimes, and sometimes he felt the complete opposite; that was what having Bipolar did to you.

"How about we go and find Biscuit, yeah? We can play with him for a while, and see how you feel afterwards." I decided finally, running through options in my head.

I knew the dog pepped him up sometimes, something I was grateful.

Keeping Biscuit was probably one of the best decisions we'd made since moving into this house. Despite our worries about keeping him, it had been a good decision.

"I really don't want to get out of bed."

"What about a cup of tea? Or a hot chocolate? You can stay on the sofa, drink your drink, and have a cuddle with Biscuit." I added, tracing his jaw lightly.