Mitch POV
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Scott asked, referring to the insanely vivid nightmare that had just woken me up.
I didn't answer. I wanted to tell him how I was really feeling. I wanted to hear him assure me that everything would be okay and I wanted him to hold me again. But more than that I wanted him to be able to go on living his life without the stress of my complications weighing him down. Plus, no matter what kind of fight we were having right now, I knew he would try to stop whatever I was planning to do, so I couldn't tell him.
He noticed my hesitation. "What's wrong?" he asked.
I opened my mouth, but my uncertainty stopped anything from coming out. He stared at me, the wheels in his mind turning as he attempted to figure out what I was thinking.
"Mitch, you're scaring me," he said trying to hide the slight tremble in his voice.
"I...just..." I didn't know what to say. I couldn't tell the truth, but he would probably know if I tried to lie. "How are you?" I blurted out, trying to fill the silence that ensued.
"I'm...fine?" he answered skeptically. "Mitch, what's going on? And why won't you tell me about it? You can trust me."
I sighed loudly, "Nothing. That dream just really shook me up." I hoped my disheveled state would hide the fact that I was lying.
"Tell me about it."
I shook my head slowly, "It wasn't any different than usual."
He seemed confused by my answer. I started to turn around and then I put my feet on the floor. Scott immediately jumped out of bed and walked around to help me get up.
"I think I'm going to go for a walk," I said quietly.
"Let me go with you," he offered. "I don't want you walking around in the middle of the night alone. Besides, you can barely walk."
"I'll be fine," I lied. I had to get out. I just had to.
He shook his head, "I know we're not on the best terms right now, but you're still my best friend and I still love you. If something happened to you I'd never forgive myself."
"Something already has happened to me," I whispered. "Now move out my way," I said, pushing him gently out of my path to the door. "I'll be back soon."
He stood there, stunned, as I walked toward the door, discreetly slipping my wallet in my pocket on the way out.
Scott POV
I checked my watch for the tenth time in the past half-hour. I tried not to smother Mitch, but it always made me so nervous when he wasn't near me, especially considering all that's happened.
He'd been gone for 45 minutes now and I was getting really worried. He'd been acting strange after that nightmare, and something about his appearance had rung a bell, I just couldn't figure out why. My fingers hovered over his picture on my phone as I considered calling him when it suddenly hit me.
He'd acted like that the first time he tried to talk to me about cutting himself.
I ran to the front door and pulled it open, my mind moving too quickly for my feet to keep up. I called him as I jogged quickly down the stairs, taking them three at a time.
I was slightly shocked when he picked up, "Hello?"
"Where are you?" I asked frantically as I walked in a random direction.
"Walking," he answered plainly. "Why? Is something wrong?"
"I don't know," I responded, "You tell me."
He didn't say anything.
"Where are you?" I repeated.
More silence.
"Mitch?" I asked, my voice louder than before.
"I-I'm on my way back," he answered, still avoiding my question.
In the background I heard the jingle of a bell. It sounded like what you'd hear when you open the door of a shop.
"Where are you?" I asked for the third time.
He hung up.
"Shit," I muttered to myself as I ran toward the nearest store.
I had no clue why he'd be going shopping in the middle of the night. I had almost reached the small 24-hour pharmacy that I was heading toward when a small figure leaning against a wall in an alley caught my eye. I could only see the silhouette in the dim light, but I knew it was Mitch.
"Mitch!" I yelled, relieved, as I walked toward him.
He jumped at my voice and I saw his terrified expression as he stared at me, his mouth gaping open.
I slowed my pace, an eerie feeling creeping in around me.
"Mitch?" I questioned, stopping a few feet away from him.
He held something in his hand, but it was too dark for me to tell what it was.
"Go home," he said, his voice low and serious.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong," I countered. "I know you're upset with me, but that doesn't mean that I don't care about you."
"I don't want you to care!" He yelled, tears evident in his voice. "Stop caring about me! I'm not worth it! All I do is cause you stress and heartache and make you lose sleep and god knows what else!"
"Mitch, wha-"
"Go home!" He yelled, interrupting me.
He took a few steps backward, away from me, and whatever he held shook slightly. It sounded like a pill bottle. Everything suddenly clicked in my mind.
"Mitch," I started, choosing my words carefully. "Please put the pills down."
"Why should I?" His voice was thick with tears now. "You know life would be so much easier without me."
"Life without you wouldn't be bearable," I protested, trying to keep my voice steady.
He laughed, but it lacked humor.
"Put them down," I told him again, taking a small step toward him.
My body trembled as he glanced between me and the bottle in his hand.
"Please," I begged. "If you still love me, don't do this."
"Of course I love you!" He answered as if it were obvious. "I've been trying to distance myself from you because I don't like the person I've turned you into! That's why I just need to go."
"Don't you understand how I feel about you?" I asked him, my voice becoming more and more panicked with every passing second. "I wouldn't be able to live without you."
That finally seemed to catch his attention. "You don't mean that." He said.
I nodded slowly as I took another careful step in his direction. "Yes I do. You are my everything, Mitch. If you were gone, I'd have no reason to get up in the morning. You are constantly on my mind no matter what I do," I took another step forward. "I'm continually amazed by how handsome you are even though I have every detail of your face memorized. I know that when you go to sleep, you curl into a ball on your left side. I know that when you laugh too hard your body just shakes silently in place of the laughter. I've memorized the way your dimples show up when something makes you smile really big. I know the way your eyebrows scrunch together slightly when you lie," just a few more steps and I'll be able to reach him, "I love you, Mitchell Grassi. You are the strongest and most inspiring human being I've ever met. You can't let what he did ruin you."
He seemed stunned by my words. He was frozen to the spot and I took advantage of his surprise, taking another step forward and closing the gap between us. I carefully closed my hand around the bottle of pills he was holding and took it out of his hand, placing it in my pocket.
He stared at me, his mouth slightly open and his eyes full of amazement. I saw tears streaming down his cheeks and I wiped them away, carefully avoiding the bruises on his face. He fell into my arms and began sobbing into my chest.
"I love you," I murmured, carefully stroking his hair. "Don't ever forget that."
