Nico's pov
Trigger warnings: panic attacks, mentions and depictions of self harm, hallucinations, mentions of eating disorders
The normal stuff ouch
—
(Day 1)

I've never been so mortified in my life.

You see, I've had my fair share in horribly embarrassing moments. I've had panic attacks in front of both Jenny and Will, I've cried in front of just about everyone I know, and I've been caught talking to myself more than not. For someone who hated showing vulnerability, who felt humiliated every time someone saw me with my guard down, it happened quite excessively.
Hell, there's still a video out there of me calling myself a... well. Whatever Caleb made me call myself. My ego has been stripped bare, my self esteem in shreds. And I'm not even being dramatic.
I was pretty sure nothing could embarrass me anymore, not after being admitted to a mental hospital the day before prom like the main character of a crappy YA novel.

But somehow. Somehow.
Somehow, I keep raising the bar higher and higher. It's going to get lost in space soon. I should really stop telling myself "at least it can't get any worse".

I wasn't myself last night. When my brain supplied the "fight or flight" question, my hands wrapped around my boring nurses throat, it did not even hesitate to scream FLIGHT!! FUCKING FLIGHT!!!

And that flight meant running barefoot through New York like the local homeless cocaine junkies to my ex? Boyfriends apartment in the middle of the fucking night.

Not only did I show up at his door after telling him over, and over, and over again that I hated him, like a fucking hypocrite, but I showed up covered in tears, having a panic attack, dissociated, and in his jacket. His jacket that I BLED ALL OVER. And then, to top it all off, I nearly went non-verbal, fell into his arms like a damsel in distress, and made him play doctor at 3 in the morning.

If that man still had even a flicker of faith in me, last night I dumped a bucket of tears onto the weak flame. There was no way he could feel anything for me after than but pity.
And I couldn't blame him! I really couldn't. I barely feel anything for myself but pity as well. So. Great.

I took a deep breath, in through my nose and out through my just-barely-parted lips, eyes closed softly, and tried to think of one of Jenny's exercises to ground me.
Four things I could feel: the cold tile seeping through my socks, different from the floors at the hospital; the rough, white, cool paint of the locked bathroom door pressed against my forehead; the slight tightness around my neck, like a tie, or a choker that Camilla once put on me, of the bandages protecting my scratched skin; my flat, slept on hair tickling my ears.

Three things I could hear: my slowing breaths as I calmed myself down; the quiet clicking of the fan in Will's bathroom, an indicate that it probably needed replacing; the muted clinking of ceramic mugs being placed on the countertop from the kitchen, Will probably making coffee after his interrupted and exhausting night.

Two things I could smell: shampoo, not Will's, but most likely Cecils when he showered this morning before he went out, trapped in the humid room; but most importantly, Will, the smell of him completely enveloping me, like a hug, coming from both his clothes that I wore to sleep but also everything in this damned apartment. It would be inescapable.

One thing I could taste: the sour flavour left in my mouth after sleep, coating my teeth and my tongue and my lips in the most uncomfortable way.

I took one final breath and pushed my head off of the door, opening my eyes slowly against the harsh led lights used in bathrooms to expose all of your facial insecurities.

A plan would be useless. I was in the last place I thought I would end up when flight became my priority (seriously, why couldn't I have just run to Jenny's?) with the last person I thought I would want to see, and as ironic and hypocritical as my mind is, I feel safe.
It disgusting.
Will told me I could stay, and that's really the only plan I had right now. Part of my brain told me, screamed, that Will only offered a place with him because he pitied me. Another part of my brain whispered that he only offered to keep me around until the authorities showed up to take me away.

The sappy, teenager part of my brain that missed feeling loved, that missed being held, that missed Will, told me that he might still love me. Even after everything I did to him. Even after I blamed him for ruining my life, only because he saved my life. Saved my life literally, and not in a wet, and overused, and cliche 'he saved my life' by being there for me kind of way.
The traitorous part of my brain wanted him to still love me, even after I pushed him away, even after I kept him away by force, throwing my toddler-like tantrum that lasted too many months.

I sighed, not having the energy to fight that stupid part of my brain. Instead I leaned over the sink, eyes downcast so that I couldn't look at myself, and turned the tap on cold.
I splashed freezing water over my face, rinsing the dried tears and snot off of my face before bracing my hands on the edge of the sink and counting my breaths, letting the water drip forwards into the basin rather than the floor or down my neck to the bandages.

This was fine. This could be fine. I mean, Will obviously felt really awkward around me, dancing around me, choosing his words a little too carefully. He wouldn't even touch me in a friendly way without me first agreeing to it, which was actually really kind of him, and made me feel even safer-
Off topic. Consent to touch was natural, and everyone should do so. He was just showing basic manners; I shouldn't feel so indebted to him for bare human decency.
But it did. It made me feel... things. I haven't felt things in a while.
He helped me without question- well, without prodding question- last night. He comforted me, he respected my privacy and my boundaries without even knowing what the boundaries were because, well, words have become somewhat tough for me, and made me feel so much better with a couple hugs and soft words.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, and sprayed water onto the counter and mirror in front of me that I was still avoiding. I didn't want to embarrass myself further by seeing how I was being perceived. Probably crazy, but that was a given.

A soft knock rung out from the locked door. I jumped, but I wouldn't admit to it.
It was startling that the door didn't immediately burst open after being knocked on. I haven't had a bathroom with a lock in months.

"Hey, Ne- Nico. You ok in there?" Will asked softly from outside the door.
He's done that like five times since I got here. Gone to call me Neeks, but instantly correcting himself. I think that quirk might have been my fault. After screaming at him for calling me that last month.

"I-" I cleared my throat. It was still rusty,
"I'm ok," I called. My voice sounded weird. Waterlogged and low and strange.
From the other side of the door, I could hear a small relieved sigh. I tried not to take it to heart. The first thing I do, finally being unsupervised after months, is lock myself in a bathroom alone...
he had the right to worry. I couldn't get upset with him over a sigh. He was letting me stay.

"I've made tea for you, um, we didn't have hot chocolate..." I could almost see Will staring at his hands as they fiddled through the door. He remembered. That I didn't like coffee. Of course he did.

"Oh, thank you," I felt weirdly formal, especially after mouthing off to nurses for so long when they tried to take care of me,
"Um, I hate to ask, but, uh," I cursed in my head, hating that I couldn't articulate everything I was thinking, sounding like an idiot,
"D-Do you have an extra toothbrush, by any chance?"

I didn't want to open the door yet. I needed a couple more minutes to collect myself. To repair my pride, after letting him see the worst part of me again.

"Oh, 'course. If you open the cabinet under the sink, there's probably an unopened one under there somewhere..." he trailed off, pausing as I crouched and opened the cupboard doors. It was a mess, but in an apartment of two 20 year old men attending university, I guess that was to be expected.
I carefully picked past the unused razors, shaving cream, deodorant and colognes thrown around carelessly, until I found a toothbrush still in its package.

"I found one, thank you," I murmured, tearing open the packaging. Will hummed in response, before his footsteps led away from the door.

There was only one tube of toothpaste on the counter, next to a water stained cup holding two other toothbrushes. Cecil and Will must share... I guess you save money anywhere you can in university.
I brushed my teeth for longer than the recommended two minutes, to completely disinfect my mouth from the rancid taste I woke up with.
I placed it in the cup, because even though the cup looked unwashed, the counter couldn't have been any cleaner, and accidentally caught my own eyes in the mirror.

I quickly tore my eyes away and opened the bathroom door. Apparently, when it comes between avoiding myself and my maybe-maybe-not-boyfriend, I chose the boy. If Jenny was still my therapist, she would probably have something to say about that.

Will was padding down the hallway towards me with two mugs in his hands, sliding slowly over the scratched wood floors and eyeing the cups carefully so that he wouldn't spill. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration, lips pursed, and big hoodie made him look absolutely-

He looked up from the mugs as he approached and saw me standing at the doorway. I reminded myself that I still didn't trust him. Even as he smiled carefully, nervously, and stopped a good 4 feet away from me.

"I, uh, brought us caffeine?" The side of his mouth quirked and twitched, like he was unsure if it was appropriate to be making light of a situation that was... well my situation was a mess wasn't it.

I stared, forgetting that staring was rude (staring was a prerequisite at the hospital, there was nothing better to do besides people watch) and quickly bit the inside of my lip to keep my mouth closed. This situation was so foreign to me, I didn't know how to react. Especially after the mess that was last night.

I hesitantly stepped back into the bathroom, back towards the closed-lid toilet that was apparently my designated seat in the apartment.
Will slid in after me and placed his coffee on the counter, handing my tea over. He didn't close the door behind him. Cecil had gone out (I assumed) and he seemed to be making himself as non threatening as possible.

I took a sip of the tea, earl grey with what tasted like oat milk, and cringed at the taste mixed with my recently brushed teeth. I pushed it onto the counter next to Will's, deciding to wait on the caffeine.

Will was on the floor, on his knees, pulling out the first aid kit once more. Having to play doctor with me once more. I clenched my hands in my lap and grit my teeth.

"I- I can probably do it myself. You don't have to help me," I mumbled, tightening my grip. I could feel the moon shaped crescents make their way into my palms the longer I squeezed.

Will looked up at me with a frown.

"You don't want me to...?" I blanched at the way he looked... crestfallen?
I scrambled to fix my mistake,

"No! No, uh. I just. If you don't want to, I can figure out how to do it on my own. You don't have to... y'know," I waved to my neck area and winced when my finger brushed the bandages. For the second time today, (and I've only been awake for 30 minutes) Will reached forward and lightly lowered my hand from my neck, instantly taking his hand away afterwards.

"I can probably do it more efficiently," he told me, sounding very unlike the Will I was used to, who would probably tell me that he wanted to do it, that he wanted to help me, and make a sly joke at the same time.
I bit my lip again, nodding. Maybe he wanted to say those things, but was sparing me from hearing them. Or maybe he was telling the truth. He just thought that it would be easier for me for him to do it, and that was all there was to it.

Nonetheless, he kneeled in front of me and took out the bandages and Polysporin to help heal the scratches faster. I hadn't looked at them once, I had no clue what they looked like beneath the bandages, and I didn't really want to find out. If Will had agreed and left me to my own devices, I would have had to look at them and clean them and rewrap them, which probably would have triggered another panic attack.
I didn't want him to see how grateful I was though, so I looked at my hands and picked at the sides of my fingernails to seem uninterested.

"Can I, um," Wills voice, low as to not startle me, pulled me back to reality, "can I touch you?"

I bit my cheek, hard, to try and keep my face in check, to keep myself from blushing and to keep myself from falling again. He was just letting me stay here because I had nowhere else to go. This was nothing. I don't even think we're dating. I don't think. Honestly it's never mutually been talked about.

"Mhm," I hummed after opening my mouth and realizing my words had disappeared again. His eyes were trained on my face, to make sure that my hum was true and not forced. He looked so genuine it hurt my brain to look at it, so I tilted my head up and half-heartedly glared at the ceiling.
After a moment he began to unwrap the old bandages, fingers warm against my skin.

"They're already scabbing over, they should heal completely in about two weeks," Will murmured, fingers brushing my chin and tilting my head to the side so that the shadow over my neck vanished.

"Ok," I tried to sound confident, but it came out like a whisper.

"And, well, there might be scars. From it. For a couple months. I've seen scratches like this heal, and they um, kinda heal a different colour than the rest of your skin," his fingers brushed my neck ever so lightly, making me shiver.

"Ok."

"Would it be ok- um. Well, I think we should let it breathe, if only for an hour, before we wrap them up again," he rushed out quickly, pulling his hand away completely.

"Ok."

"Are you just agreeing because you think that's what I want to hear, or are you actually ok with it?" Will asked. I looked down at him in surprise, meeting his eyes properly again. He wanted to know how I felt about it, and he wanted to make me as comfortable as possible. I frowned and chomped down on my inner lip.

"I just don't want people to see- well I guess only Cecil, but, uh," I looked down at my hands. His eyes were too caring. I got the unreasonable urge to push him away. Physically this time. Less metaphorically.

"Cecil already left, he won't be back till 3:30, and we can wrap them way before that," Will promised, a hand going to my knee but pulling back before we even brushed.

"And you won't stare?" I whispered, feeling particularly vulnerable again. Disgusting.
My actions and my thoughts were completely contradicting each other.
If my thoughts and my actions were in sync, I wouldn't be here in the first place.

"Only to make sure they're not, y'know, bleeding again. Doctors eyes only," he raised a hand and placed the other hand on his heart. I docked him with an unimpressed look, but I could feel my lips twitch. Once again, not cooperating. Will laughed quietly, a single huff through his nose, and threw the old bandages in the trash before shoving the first aid kit to the side.

He grabbed both of our mugs from the counter, passing me my own, and settled back in front of me on the floor, nosing the rim of his drink.
I wasn't quite sure what to say. After months of no contact besides, y'know, yelling at him, and then a single night of tears and sleeping next to each other, I was lost. Were we dating? I wasn't even sure I trusted him. I was only here because he was... well he was my only person. He was the only person I knew wouldn't send me back.
Plus, after pushing him out of my life I was invading his personal space like I owned it. He was probably going to gain some personal vendetta against me.

I looked over the rim of my mug at him as he nursed his coffee like it was gold infused. He wasn't looking at me, so I felt ok staring at him.
I thought that last night he looked tired because it was the middle of the night, but he still looked drained.
His eye bags were equal to mine, which was something I've never seen and his complexion was chalky in a way I didn't think was possible. He looked thinner, and somehow even his hair lost its shine. He kinda looked like... me.
He looked like me when I was having a rough time, and that made me feel sick to my stomach. Will was supposed to be better. He was supposed to be the person in my life that had, I don't know, gotten fixed? Gotten over the mental illnesses and moved on. He had suffered for years, but he healed. He showed me that it was possible to feel better.
But now he looked like me, and it's possible that I may have caused that.
The part of my brain where Jenny's words stuck told me that relapse was normal. That you can't just get better in the span of a year and a half.
But relapses started somewhere.

"It's your fault," Bianca cooed from the doorway, dead and rotting. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block her out, which was something thing I haven't done in a long time.
"Awe, trying to get rid of me? I thought we were friends now?"

"Not after last night," I growled, teeth clenched, fingers tightening on my mug.

"Hm?" Will looked up at my words, confused.

Fuck. Not again. I don't want to be the crazy person who talks to myself.

"Look at him, neeks," she added sweetness to the nickname, "you did that. You made him relapse, how does that make you feel?"

I opened my eyes, biting my bottom lip. Will was looking at me with his eyebrows raised in question, but all I saw was the way his cheeks looked a little bit thinner than in June, and how his eyes looked bruised with lack of sleep.

"It's your fault."

"It's not my fault," I whispered, and then clapped a hand over my mouth. The sudden movement spilt tea over the sides of my cup and onto my hand.

"Hey, Nico, what's not your fault?" He placed his cup on the floor next to him and then quickly eased the other out of my hands.

I squeezed my eyes shut again, so that I wouldn't have to see either of them, and waved a hand at the doorway where my dead sister stood.

"I'm sorry," I said, muffled by my hand.

"Hey, don't be sorry, you can't control it, it's alright," Will soothed, close but not touching me. He thought I was sorry about right now, which was probably for the best. What I was actually sorry for, was the way I affected him, and how my actions caused him harm over the last few months.
"You had a really bad night, you're still vulnerable to Bianca right now. Just breathe, and try not to panic. I know that's easier said than done, but if you're able to calm down you might be able to block her out," Will murmured softly. I nodded, taking a deep breath. I needed something to hold on to, the air giving me no support. I needed something real.

Eyes still shut, my hand shot out and grasped the air in front of me until it hit Wills shoulder. I felt him flinch and adjust, and slowly took my hand, lightly so that I could let go if I didn't want it.
I wanted it.

I squeezed his hand tightly and drew it closer to my body. I let my other hand drop from my mouth and clasp his hand as well, and pressed it to my forehead.

Will was real. I could see him and I could hear him in the same way I could see and hear Bianca, but I could also touch Will. I could smell him. If I really wanted to, I could taste him.

He was real, and Bianca wasn't. Wills hand was pressed to my forehead. It was hot after holding his coffee, and it was slightly clammy, and it was real.

He was alive and breathing and real.

I took a shuddering breath, and then another deeper breath, before opening my eyes.
When I glanced at the doorway, Bianca was gone.
My shoulders dropped and I sighed in relief.

"Thank fuck," I whispered, still squeezing Will's hand.
In front of me, on the floor, his eyes were wide and concerned and above all else, not pitying. They just.. knew.
Will knew me. And he wasn't weirded out by me talking to myself, or that I hallucinated my dead sister, or that I had out-of-nowhere almost-panic attacks. He just waited for me patiently.

I dropped his hand quickly.

"Sorry," I mumbled, looking away. I hated that both of the times I was in crisis mode I sought out his touch. Like I needed it. After months of not needing it.
This was becoming a gross pattern.

"It's alright, don't worry about it," Will smiled, shaking out his hand, "Forgot about your killer grip though."

He cringed as soon as he referenced before. As if he thought that talking about before would upset me. Maybe five days ago it would have.
I smiled, if not a small one, and reached for my tea.

"So, um. Heh," Will stuttered. I glanced at him as he rubbed the back of his neck, a pained look on his face, like we was about to broach a topic he wasn't sure he should. I narrowed my eyes and took a sip of tea.

"Yes..?" I asked slowly as he searched for his words.

Will grabbed his mug and stood, knees cracking, and offered a hand to me,
"Breakfast time?"

Ah yes. I see where the concern was coming from. Once again, I was going to try and not get upset, because not only is he letting me stay, but he has also just helped me stop two (maybe last night counted as two on its own?) panic attacks in the span of 8 hours.

I nodded and took his hand, using his balance to help stand, blinking away the black dots of dizziness away quickly.

He smiled to hide the nervousness caused by the question and dropped my hand to turn and leave the bathroom. I followed, and because I wasn't paying attention, looked in the mirror as I passed it.
And froze.

"Oh," I said, not meaning to open my mouth in the first place, as I stared. I wasn't even looking at my face. That was probably a whole other story.
Will was a champ for keep a straight face. I wouldn't have been able to do the same.

Will, a couple steps out of the bathroom, turned at the sound of my voice.
And then quickly walked back to the bathroom.

He showed up in the mirror next to me a blink later, eyes worried. I dragged my eyes from my neck, where four jagged, patchy scratch marks led from above my Adam's apple to in between my collar bones, to Will's face, quite a few inches above me.

"Not good," I whispered, not able to raise my voice any higher.
Will clenched his teeth and, without asking this time, cupped my cheek and moved my head to face him in person, so that I was looking away from the mirror.

"Let's go make breakfast, ok?" He replied instead, smiling lightly.
I pulled my lips into my mouth but I nodded, noticing how Will's hand hid my view of the mirror.

He dropped his hand and pulled me by my free hand out of the bathroom.
Once we were out of the bathroom I felt like I could breathe a bit better.
Will was right, I was vulnerable as fuck after last night. Everything was setting me off, like a faulty smoke detector.

"So I don't think we have eggs, or bacon, or hash browns right now..." Will started sheepishly, flashing me a smile, "I was supposed to go grocery shopping today in between work and my lecture, but I'll probably go after my lecture when you're home with Cecil... um. Well, Cecil thinks- no that's a lie," Will sighed as we entered the living room, and turned so he was walking backwards into the kitchen so he could face me.
I took a sip of my tea and waited for him to speak again.

"I don't want to lie. I know you don't like being watched, especially after being at the hospital for so long, but me and Cecil talked about it and agreed that it would be better if one of us was home with you, y'know, all the time, while you stay here," he started, leaning up against the counter and pushing his coffee onto it.

I wrinkled my nose, but stayed quiet as he continued.

"It's not that we don't trust you, you know I trust you, or, well. If I haven't said that again since you arrived, I trust you. I always have and I always will, but Nico, you're not... better," he cringed at the word, but didn't seem to know how to correct himself.

I slid my weight from foot to foot and stared into my tea,

"Ok," I whispered, not knowing what else to say.

"You see, Cecil is kinda only agreeing with me to let you stay because... well I guess because I'm selfish. If we're being honest," he sighed. I looked up at him sharply, but he was staring at his hands and twirling a ring on his pinkie finger.

"W-what?" I asked eloquently.

"Nico, we both know it's not really ok that you're here, right?" He finally looked up and met my eyes. I nodded.
"Like, we're hiding it from Jenny and Carmen, and you weren't properly discharged from the hospital, which is kinda all bad, but... well. I guess what I'm trying to say is..." he trailed off again,
"Fuck I feel like a teenager again," he muttered, shaking his head. I waited patiently, guard up but privately hoping he was going to say what I wanted him to say. Finally he sighed and looked up at me.

"I know you're still mad at me, probably. And I know that probably screws with... other emotions. But I guess, I want you to stay because I missed you. And not even... just as a boyfriend. You're one of my closest friends, and I guess I really missed you. A lot. And Cecil, well, he knows that I missed you, and even though he thinks I'm being stupid he said you could stay, just because I wanted you to... I'm not sure I'm making much sense," he sighed, and rubbed his forehead. My face was still blank.
"I'm being selfish, letting you stay when all three of us know you shouldn't, but I won't let that get in between you and your safety. I hope you understand. I just think it's best, at least right now, if one of us is always around. But Ne- Nico, you know we can't do this forever, right?"

That was a lot of poorly stated information to take it, and my head was swimming. Will... missed me. Still. After everything. And he didn't expect anything... he just missed me as his friend above all. And he thinks he's the one being selfish, as if I wasn't the catalyst to this whole problem...

"I understand, about the... staying with me thing. And I know it can't last, I just want some peace and quiet... just for a little bit," I sighed, still dazed,
"I know I have to go back eventually. I don't know how... but I will. And, um. You can call me Neeks, again, um, if you want. I don't mind," I added, hoping I wasn't blushing too hard.

As meaningless as a nickname was, all of the worry washed off Will's face and a blinding smile, a smile that I haven't seen in forever, a smile that looked out of use but still in perfect condition, lit up his face.

"So are we gonna eat breakfast or not? You said you don't have normal breakfast food so what do you have," I tried my best to sound confident, but it was weak at best. I winced at the sound of it.

"Well, you're super lucky, we have..." Will turned to the small pantry and opened the doors, before whipping around with a box in his hands,
"Fruit loops and oat milk!"

"I haven't had fruit loops in... so long," I mumbled, eyeing the box and listening to my stomach rumble. It hasn't done that in a while. Good sign? Hopefully.

"Then you are in luck! Two bowls of fruit loops coming up!"

A/n
Wow I disappear for three months and come back with 5000 words. My hands are cramping. It's been 6 hours since I started this and my phone is at 3%.
My hands are going to take days to recover. Ow.
Anyways I'll prolly post this tmo because it needs edited , but rn goodnight!!! I will not be going to sleep but I am long overdue on ao3!

Sorry for disappearing for so long

Love you guys

Thea