Darkness

Brunch

Mitch drove them to Avi's apartment. Scott had decided that it would be safer and more comfortable  for Avi to be home where he could get around without help and they had most of their stuff there anyway.

The baritone was relieved to be able to put him down on the bed. After all he had carried him around for quite a while now and his arms were burning, and Scott was more than exhausted himself. He was thankful for Mitch who fetched a damp washcloth and clean clothes for Avi. Together they quickly rubbed the sweat off his skin and while the baritone pulled the new shirt over Avi's head Mitch brought the laundry to the hamper. Avi sat through this without doing anything. While Scott covered the back of his boyfriend's hands in ointment and bandaged them the Italian man got two bottles of water.

"Do you need anything else?" Mitch asked and stood near the door. Avi was asleep already, on his side and with his fists loosely curled up on the pillow next to his face, while Scott tucked the blanket under his boyfriend's body. He wanted him to be able to sleep for a while without getting disturbed by a cold breeze.

"No, I think we're good. Thank you, Mitchy. For... being there. Helping. All that." Scott smiled tiredly. "I really appreciate it." He fluffed up his pillow and sighed.

"I know. Lay down and sleep. We'll talk tomorrow." Mitch turned off the light, shut the door and headed to the living room. He got a spare pillow and duvet out of the closet and took off his hoodie before he slipped under the covers and fell asleep on the couch. The night had been exhausting and he was desperate for a few more hours of sleep.

Mitch woke up first, just a few minutes after one pm. They had been in bed at around five, maybe twenty past five, he couldn't remember, but now he was awake again, angry about exactly that, and hungry.

He wallowed in self pity for another five minutes before he got up and made himself a cup of coffee. After having a look at the contents of the fridge he decided to postmate a whole lot of food that he thought would be suitable for a classic brunch and when he unpacked the bags half an hour later a sleepy looking Scott emerged from the bedroom.

"Hi Samantha" Mitch chirped and handed him his iced coffee that had arrived with the brunch order.

"Thanks" Scott just mumbled and took a sip. "I feel as if I got hit by a truck."

"You sure look like it. Is Avi still sleeping?" Mitch put the already cut up fruit on the table and took the still warm croissants and bagels out of the paper bag.

Scott nodded and sat down. "Out like a light. I think he'll sleep for a while, probably until early evening and then I'll try to get some food and magnesium into his system. He ran a marathon last night."

"Sounds like a plan. And therapy too, not just food. For both of you. He needs emergency medication that is able to get him down from whatever trip he is on and you need someone to talk to about what kind of things are happening, why these things are happening and what you can do to help him and yourself. Because if you can't handle the mental pressure he's putting on you in a situation like this you will neither be happy nor able to support him."

Scott wanted to say something but Mitch interrupted him.

"No. Listen to me. I get that you're a really muscly and strong guy and you care about Avi and your friends but your mental health is suffering, Scott. I am scheduling an appointment with my therapist once I'm back home, after what happened yesterday I need to talk to a professional because nobody, not you, not me, not anyone else, can go through this and be okay."

The man sighed softly and nodded again. "You're right, Mitch. And I thought about that for a little after Big Bear but then he was okay. Avi was stable and doing okay and he had lots and lots of good days. Maybe yesterday was just too much."

"I have lots and lots of good days too and I still see my therapist once a week. Not because I feel shitty but because it feels good to talk to someone about it that isn't a friend or relative, and to figure out ways how to keep my anxiety from taking over. And just because you and Avi talk doesn't mean he shares everything with you, as much as you don't share everything with him. You both have things that you're keeping from each other because you both don't want to be a burden and - Scott, it's so dangerous. You and Avi are such a dangerous mix. You both don't want to bother people, you don't want to ask for help, you try to deal with it yourselves. And don't tell me I'm wrong, cause I'm not. We've been friends for over a decade now and I think I know what's going on inside your head."

He hummed. "I know. We've been trying to talk more about these things but it's hard. It's a challenge." His head hung low and he was slowly sipping his iced coffee, hunched over and tired.

Mitch put down the bag, walked over to Scott and wrapped his arms around him. "I know that it sucks, Scott. I know. I've been on both sides and it's shit, it's hell and it's unnecessary and it drains both of you like squished sponges but the good thing is that there's a way to make it better. You can't teach Avi to build skills to tackle those attacks and it's not your job. Your job is to heal, and to love and hold your boyfriend. The therapist does the rest. What are you scared of?"

Scott put down his cup, hugged back and leaned his head against Mitch's tummy. "I don't know. I don't want him to be overwhelmed and forced to talk to someone he maybe doesn't want to talk to. I don't want him to think that I don't want to support him anymore. I will always be there for him, no matter what."

"You're talking about Avi again. Why are you scared to go to therapy? What's so scary about admitting that you need help?"

"Dunno..."

"You do, c'mon. Please tell me?" Mitch's voice was soft and gentle and he hoped that his best friend out open up and share his thoughts with him.

"Getting help is...scary" the tall man mumbled. "I don't want to admit that I can't handle it anymore..that I'm not strong enough to help Avi."