885 Days [A Vikklan/Sidemen/Pack Story]

Three Hundred And Sixty Five Days Home

25 August 2018

A whole year. It had been a whole year since Lachlan had been returned to us, and now it was a very special day for a lot of people. He was turning 23 too, but that was second to the anniversary of his return.

Our lives had existed solely around the Sidemen house- honestly, I couldn't recall the last time I had left. I would very occasionally go on a walk or to the supermarket, but Lachlan had never left except for two trips to the hospital for a general check up. He seemed content enough existing in the house and we had everything we needed anyway, a large garden, a pool, a gym and plenty of space.

A year on I could mark a lot of milestones he had hit. The increased eating and physical therapy meant that he had hit 60 kilograms earlier in the month for the first time which was an amazing achievement. It wasn't healthy and was still at minimum 15kgs underweight for his height, but considering he had come to us weighing 48, it was a marked improvement. He was walking easily, he could swim and even run. The grey tones of skin had changed to a healthy pink from all the time he spent outside.

The physical side of everything was better, and probably about as good as we were ever going to get it. He had sort of tapered off when it came to weight gain and his skin was still covered in scars and burned, but he looked better. Underweight, scarred, yes. But healthy and glowing too, no longer relying on eight vitamin pills a day, a wheelchair or a feeding tube.

It was the mental side of things that had seemed to have hit a dead end. Nicola had talked to me about, mentioning he was likely to hit a point that he could push him beyond for a good while but to just bear with it. He could stay this way for years, she had said, but just look back and see how far he's come since the beginning.

She was right, obviously. Looking back it was clear just how far we had come together. He was eating, sleeping, going through each day in his little routine, but there were so many moments of happiness. Our birthdays, when he got someone to buy a little present for the birthday boy from him. The pool parties, movie nights, the precious moments he had with the other members of the Pack. He clung to them too now, going up behind them to hug them if they weren't looking.

Of course there had been moments of relapse along the way- days where he wouldn't eat, wouldn't let me touch him, would cry and scream and beg for me to leave him alone. One day in particular had been the worst, he had woken up screaming with the worst nightmare I could remember, and he had quietly begged me to kill him. To let him end it. That he didn't want to live anymore remembering that mans hands on him, with no hope for the future. He never attempted suicide, but I was scared he would try.

"Happy birthday Lachy. You're 23 today." I whispered, gently stirring him from his sleep. He squinted, grunting, but pushed himself into my tough either way. "Come on, it's time to get up. The boys have got a surprise for you."

He looked a little apprehensive, probably because it was an interruption to his routine, but didn't complain as I helped him up and into the shower. He could do that on his own and I hated invading on his privacy- he rarely let me see him shirtless because of the scars.

"Ready?" I asked him as he shrugged on a long sleeved shirt. It was the end of summer, slightly cooler, but he still wore long sleeves through the whole thing.

"Yeah." He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "It'll be good to actually celebrate for once."

Downstairs, the boys waited. They had decorated the whole kitchen and living room with streamers and banners, there was a cake and snacks and plans for a movie- Lachlan's favourite, Disney of course. It was the safest bet because it didn't trigger anything, kid friendly and all that.

"Happy birthday Lachy!" Rob came forward first, wrapping him in a hug. The others all followed, greeting him. We had agreed on no yelling. He hugged back, more visibly comfortable with the Pack boys than the Sidemen, who he still struggled to interact with and barely had over the last year due to, well, everything.

We gave him presents, little gifts and trinkets that just made my heart sing as he lit up. There were some gifts of clothing or technology, and some sweets or chocolate, but the majority of his presents were little objects or toys. Pokémon and Minecraft figurines, stim toys, paint and craft items, things of that nature. By the end of the morning he had a small pile of gifts beside him on the living room floor and he was mentally exhausted, leaning up against me with his head nodding.

"Don't fall asleep on me Lachy." I whispered, gently nudging him. He groaned under his breath and shook his head. "We've got a really nice lunch and some birthday cake."

"Can I have a nap first?" He mumbled. I pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Alright. We'll put a movie on and have a rest, 'kay?"

"Mm, 'kay."

----------------------------------------------------

I supposed it was understandable that he didn't have the capacity to deal with what may have been a normal day for one of us. Anything that overstimulated him, loud noises, disruptions to his routine, interacting with lots of people, just utterly exhausted him and he couldn't cope with it. That's why he hadn't left the house yet- another thing to exhaust him.

It was difficult to explain exactly how Lachlan had changed, how he wasn't... normal anymore. That was a disgusting word, but it was really the only way to describe it. It was like he had regressed back into a shell, quiet and emotional, completely reliant on me to get him through each day. It was emotionally draining for me as well, which was why Nicola had me seeing a therapist. Not her, she wanted to focus on Lachlan, but someone else who would be able to help me.

"It's been a year, huh." I stated, playing with Lachlan's hair. "You need a haircut babe."

He grunted in reply, buried under a mountain of pillows, blankets and duvets. It was the end of the day and he was absolutely exhausted, but it had been a good day. He was officially 23 and everyone had celebrated it with cake and movies and snacks, and a day together. It was honestly the best day so far- there had been no breakdowns, no fights, no arguments about eating more, just a tired and quiet Lachlan at the end of a busy day.

"Vikk." He mumbled, reaching his arms out for me.

"Lachlan." I teased.

"Vikk!" He whined, more frustrated. I relented, crawling into his arms. He sighed happily, wiggling as I slid under the blankets beside me, managing to giggle even in his exhausted state as I tickled his waist.

"Sleep well lil' Lachy." I whispered, cuddling him close. "Happy birthday."

He smiled back, content. Quiet, and content.