Solangelo 4

Part 10

WILL

I usually do everything I can to get Nico out of his cabin. If he stays in there too long he gets moody and undoubtedly a little depressed. But he's never aware of it. He just gets carried away and ends up isolating his way to depression. So almost the day after he's relocated to his own cabin I regret letting him leave.
'Lunch!' I say, bringing the food from the dining area in to him. I've bought all his favourite foods hoping to get him to eat more than he did at breakfast. Or dinner the night before.
'Not hungry.' He says back. He's lying on the top bed of his bunk, which he never uses.
'You've got to eat.' I insist, laying everything out.
'Not hungry.' He says again, turning over so his head is buried in the mattress.
'Nico, please.' I say. He lets out a small sigh and puts on a terrible act of being okay. He lowers himself from the top bunk and kisses me quickly on the cheek before looking at the food I bought him. He takes a bite from a small bit of bread and I can see how little he wants to be eating it. How he just wants to go back to bed.
'Have you started that book I gave you yet?' I ask, and he shakes his head. It remains untouched on Hazel's nearly made bed, 'what've you been doing?'
'Just watching some shows. Sleeping.' He says. He puts the bread down.
I rest my hand against his cheek for a moment before lifting his head up. I'm worried about him. He's terrible company for himself and they need me to work at the infirmary. I can't stay with him.
'I'm fine, Will.' He says, knowing what I'm thinking.
'You're depressed.' I say, letting go of his head and passing him some more food, 'eat.'
'I'm not depressed.' He insists, taking the food and eating it reluctantly.
'I'm a doctor.' I say.
'You've got to stop using that as an argument.' He complains.
'It's always relevant.'
He stares at me for a moment, we're both quiet. He gives in first.
'Fine.' He sighs, exasperated, 'I'm depressed, it's fine. I just get like this. You know I do, I have blips. I'll be allowed out in like four days? It's fine.'
'It's not fine. Four days is too far away. What can I do? How can I make this situation better?' I ask, leaning against his desk.
'I thought you were the doctor.' He says, 'can't you drug me up or something?'
'Obviously I've already tried that. They don't seem to work with you. It's not genetic, it's based on your situation. Medication isn't as effective in that situation.'
'Bummer.' He says.
'What if I can get you some space outside? Like an indoor garden? You can work on your Persephone stuff, maybe it'll make you feel better?' I ask, hopeful.
'I don't know...maybe. Worth a shot.' He says, tossing his half eaten sandwich back on the plate, 'won't that give me vitamin C or something? Isn't that important?'
'Good try. It's vitamin D. But you're right, it does boost serotonin levels. It definitely can't do you any harm.' I say, happy that we've come up with something to potentially help him.
'Well then let's give it a shot. Until then, I'm going to sleep.' He says, ambling back to his bed. He doesn't even pull the duvet over him.
'Gods Nico, you could at least try and make me think you're healthy.' I say, pulling the duvet over him.
'You'd be bored if I was.' He says, pulling me down to kiss me.
'I have to go.' I say, reluctant to leave him, 'but I'll look into getting you garden space by tomorrow.'
'Go. I'll be okay.' He insist.
'Love you.' I say.
'Love you too.' He says back.