Will's pov
Trigger warnings: mentioned hallucinations, mentioned Ed, mentioned SH scars, panic attack
-
(Day 32)

My feet were still wet as I walked down the hallway, a towel draped over my head. Each footstep left a track from the bathroom that was still leaking steam and making the apartment warmer than it already was. I turned up the heat too high, and I was already sweating, right out of the shower.

I pulled my fresh clothes over my damp body and made for the living room before the fog had cleared from the mirror. I was alone with Nico today. And Nico was... not doing well. At all. Ever since the Tylenol scare, he's been... struggling. I'd been trying my best, staying by his side the whole time, but the proximity since 'Tylenol Night' (or so I've been calling it) has sort of been driving us crazy. He needed me, so I stayed. But he needed space, so I made room. But we were bumping knees and breathing the same air every second of the day, since I've been skipping class, and an hour ago we both snapped.

It wasn't detrimental. He told me to back off. I told him it was my house. We both called each other annoying and went to different rooms. And then I showered, which cleared my head.

The fight didn't hurt.
Fighting Nico used to be world ending. I'd sulk, and blame myself, and curse him out until I had a headache and a stuffy nose and a craving for alcohol. And then something bad would happen, and we'd forgive each other. Because before the summer, everything was high stakes and tension so thick and solid a sword couldn't slice it. Things kept happening and we both couldn't handle it and then everything fell apart.

When we fought over the summer, it was one sided, and it was worse than being stabbed in the gut. Repeatedly. He would tell me he hated the sight of me, and I'd beg for his forgiveness, and nothing was ever solved.
Even though we had worked past that time in our lives, thinking about those fights stung like phantom wounds.

Now, fighting was trivial. Normal. It was mutual. It was a snap from both parties that took half an hour to settle over. And kiss better. It was finally... healthy. Even if we were both having a hard time, at least we weren't ripping each other to shreds, piece by piece. Until we were nothing but bare hearts.
Considering we were nearly always in each other's space, for Nico even more so, I think we've handled our emotions pretty well. Better than ever before, really.

I should probably still apologize, though, now that my hair was clean and my head was calm. Nico was having a worse time than me right now, brain wise, and might have taken the 'fight' harder than I had.

The towel dropped over my eyes as I entered the living room. I brushed it out of the way as I scrubbed at my scalp, soaking up the water that kept dripping under the neck of my shirt.

Nico was where I had left him. Sitting on the couch.

His knees were pulled up to his chest, held by his arms, and he was staring at the curtained windows behind the tv blankly. He was so still, he didn't even look like he was breathing. His eyes were glazed over and unseeing, jaw clenched and tense.

I stood at the mouth of the hallway, watching. Waiting to see if he'd turn. Or at least acknowledge my existence with a pointed turn away from me. But he sat, catatonic and unmoving.

Was this petty avoidance? I sighed, rubbing the towel roughly over my head before letting it drop around my shoulders.

I opened my mouth to call his name— to apologize first— but before I could so much as make a squeak, he flinched. And not a small jump like he'd been startled— his head jerked to the side like he'd been slapped, his arms tensing around his legs and his shoulders jolted.

The full body reaction made me jump.

I could only see a bit of his side profile, but it was enough to watch his blank mask crumble into a pained grimace, and then unfold smooth again. Like nothing had even happened.

That wasn't a reaction for attention. Though, Nico's never were. It was the tension in his entire body that made me realize he wasn't ignoring me, but that something was wrong. He hadn't noticed me at all, because something else was holding his attention. And hurting him— whether it be physically or mentally didn't matter. I think, a lot of the time, the things his mind told him hurt more than what the assholes at his school or old foster had done to him.

This wasn't the first time Nico had gone still like this. Like he was in a whole other world in his head. It had happened a bit since he showed up, but ever since the 'Tylenol Night' happened, it'd been frequent. He always seemed to be teetering on the edge of a cliff that dropped into a pool of empty. Or, more likely, clinging to said cliff by the tips of his fingers, with a black chasm below him. Pulling at him. And because he was in my care, I was the only possible thing that could pull him up and out.
But if this went on, we'd both fall.

I was tired. This was hard for Nico, of course, but it was wearing on me too. Moths of worry chewed at my patience and sense of rationality. I wanted Nico to be happy, for him to do what he wants in life, but it was hard for him when the voices in his mind interfered with every possible activity of the day. They were making life feel impossible, and I couldn't change that.
I was anxious and wired, and it was making me snappy. Same as him.
But we were trying, so that had to count for something.

"Nico?" I called softly, stepping into the room. The noise didn't fall on his ears. He didn't even twitch.

"Nico, love," I tried again, placing a hand on the couch arm. He was in the centre of it, but I didn't want to startle him too bad, and accidentally cause a panic attack. Especially because he was so lost.

Sighing, I crossed in front of the couch, crouching in front of him. He looked through me, like I wasn't even there. Like I didn't exist. Like he didn't exist.

There didn't seem to be away to get his attention without the failsafe grounding technique. Touch.

I reached out and placed a hand on his raised knee, in a place he's never been truly hurt unlike his chest, back, or thigh. He jumped anyways, with a sharp intake of breath. Blinked. Looked down at me like I had just appeared there.

"Will?"

"Yeah, sweetie? Are you ok?" I pressed my hand into his knee properly now that he was aware of me.

"I'm really cold," he said, unfolding from his ball like nothing had happened.

He was wearing a pair of my sweats and a hoodie. I had put the heat on days ago. If anything, the apartment was too hot. I was nearly sweating.

As his muscles unfurled, though, he started to vibrate. And then shiver. And within seconds, he was shaking under my hand, like the last dead leaf on a tree.

The apartment was too warm, but Nico might as well have been sitting outside in the cold weather.

Whatever had just happened while I was in the shower had sapped his energy and taken a toll on his mind. He clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering.

"I'll get you a blanket," I leaned forward on my toes and pressed my lips to his knee before I stood above him.

"Thanks..." but Nico wasn't looking at me anymore. He was staring at the wall again.

I threw my towel in the bathroom at the end of the hall as I passed to grab a blanket from my bed. Nico was barely present. There wasn't any use in apologizing for the fight, now. He probably forgot about it forever ago.

"There we go," I dropped the big soft blanket over his lap. The touch made him jump again, but he didn't hesitate to pull the blanket up to his chin

Thankfully, all of my homework was still splayed on the coffee table from when I had stormed away, highlighters and all.

"Is it all right if I stay and study next to you?" I asked, reaching over the back of the couch to touch his shoulder. He leaned his head all the way back fo stare at me, eyes wide.

"Please," he murmured, thumping his head against my arm. I cupped his jaw. He pooched his lips. I chuckled as I leaned over and kissed him upside down. Still my boy.

"I think I might take a nap. I'm really tired," he mumbled against my lips. I nudged my nose with his.

"'Course, lay down and I'll sit by your feet, 'k?"

"Ok," he nodded, sinking back into the couch. I crossed around and sunk down at the edge, pulling my notes under me. Nico shoved his feet against my thighs. I patted them over the blanket.

-

The quiet didn't last long. An hour later, Nico woke with a strangled shout, jump starting my heart like the electric paddles that resuscitate people. My pen scratched across my notes as I flinched. Goosebumps shot up my arms and raised my hair on ends at the sound. Nico shot up, breathing heavily.

I threw my stuff on the table in front of me. Another nightmare. The fourth in three days.

"Nico?" I asked softly. He was hunched over his legs that had pulled up, hands over his ears. He whined, deep in his chest and pressed his hands harder into the sides of his skull, shaking his whole body as he tried to shake his head. I don't know if he was shaking no at me, or himself.

"Nico," I murmured again, sliding off the couch. I didn't want to be above him and perceived as a threat. Better to stay low.
Crawling over to his side, I ducked my head to try and see his face. There were tears on it, but that was no surprise. He looked like he was hurting, but that wasn't weird either. The nightmares have been bad for a week now.

"Ni—"

"Fuck. Fuck!" Nico hissed, hopefully awake. Still holding his ears shut, he kept shaking his head back and forth. "Shut up. God, fucking shut up."

He was awake. I think. But he was startled awake and he was losing himself.

"Breathe, Nico," I called. "Take my hand if you can hear me, it'll help ground you. Breathe."

"Will, I can't— it's so fucking loud, I can't take— my hands—" he was hyperventilating. Shit. Don't get anxious, Will. Don't let this affect you, because who will pull both of you out of panic attacks? Focus. Breathe.

"Nico, it's quiet. It's quiet. You're safe. Focus on breathing, you're ok. Push it all back," I coached, raising my hand towards him. "Can I touch you? Yes or no?"

"Y-yes. God— Will it hurts. It hurts."

"What hurts?" I placed my hand on his arm and he leaned into it, still hunched over his legs.

"My head— its pounding. It's so loud and no one will shut up for five seconds— I need a break but I can't just-just ask for it to be quiet and— Will, it hurts," Nico blubbered, slurring around the words as he started to cry.

"I know, Nico. I'm sorry I can't make it better from you," I sighed, letting my eyes drop shut. I leaned forwards and pressed my forehead on the couch, hand still on his arm. I couldn't help him. I couldn't do anything to make his head better. I just wanted...

"Will—"

"Yes?"

"I need— can you come up here? Please?" He scooted back and pressed himself into the couch back.

He needed me. I couldn't make his head quieter, but I could ground him. I could comfort him. He needed me. He wouldn't be here if he didn't.

"'Course," I sidled up next to him on the edge of the cushion, twisting him around and sliding in to sit against the couch arm. Then I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him into my chest, folding over to press my cheek onto the top of his hair.

"I don't know how to make them shut up," Nico whispered into my shirt. I rubbed his back. "I don't know how to make it stop. It's fucking unbearable."

"I know," I breathed into his hair.

"It's not even just... her. It's everyone. No one. I don't know. It's just loud and it's all me but it's not."

I didn't know how to respond. Didn't know how to help it. So I held him and listened and kissed his head. Like kisses could help. Like my lips would shut out the rest of the world. A boy could wish.

"It hurts," he whispered.

"I know, love."

"I just want to be ok," he pressed his face so hard into my chest it must've hurt. "I just want to be ok."

"Do you want to get some fresh air?" I asked into his ear, ducking to reach it.

"Don't wanna leave..." he shook his head.

"Fire escape?" I trouble-solved.

Nico hesitated. "I don't think that's... a very good idea right now. Thoughts-wise."

I swallowed. Stupid suggestion. Probably shouldn't have asked.

"Ok. That's ok. Do you want dinner? It's around time," I didn't have my phone on hand, but if it got his mind off the dream, it would help.

"Can I... smoothie?" He asked, looking up at me through wet eyelashes. He hadn't been able to eat solids since the 'Tylenol Night'. Everything was falling apart, back to square one.

"Yes, of course," I smiled down at him.

His lip twitched into a small smile back, lifting off me to sit up properly.

I pushed off the couch and wandered to the kitchen, pulling out the frozen foods and protein powder needed for his smoothie. I ducked down to grab the blender from a bottom cupboard. When I was up again, I looked through the bar top opening to the couch. His hands were at his neck. Scratching.

"Shit," I sighed, jogging back to the living room.

Nico was muttering to himself. Or, maybe not to himself. Either way, he was speaking too low for me to hear, seeming unaware of his hands.

"Nico," I took his hand and clasped it with mine. Nico jumped, staring at our hands.

"Damnit," he hissed, lip curling. "I can't even— I'm doing—" he cut off with a huff, tears springing to his waterline.
I ducked to look at his neck. He hadn't been doing it long, the scratched were barely red. Thankfully.

"I'm sorry— I didn't notice, Will, I swear," his bottom lip wobbled, shoulders shaking.

Nico needed proper surveillance. Which was something Cecil and I couldn't provide.

"It's ok, Nico. You're ok. Breathe, Nico," I quickly sat next to him, forgetting the smoothie. Nico wasn't calming down and I needed to stop him from totally crumbling. I needed to pull him back to reality.

"I didn't— they're just— and—" he huffed again. Words weren't making sentences for him.

"Shhhh, it's ok. Squeeze my hand— yeah, just like that. That's it, Nico. In and out, breathe." I said, voice firm to hold his attention. When he leaned over my lap, counting his breaths, the front door opened.

At the sound of a starting inhale, I whipped around. Cecil was mid-gasp like he was about to yell hello to the apartment. Thankfully, he caught the look on my face and probably inferred was was over the back of the couch, shaking.

"Cecil," I said, sounding clipped. "Could you make Nico his smoothie please? Right now?" I asked tightly.

Cecil's jaw snapped shut. "Yeah. Yeah, sure thing."

"I can't— do it, at the moment," I said, shooting A pointed look at the hand clutching my shirt. Cecil's eyes darkened, but he nodded.

"I'll make it right now."

As Cecil made the smoothie, I stroked Nico's hair and held him until the shaking was swept away.

When Cecil brought the drink over, Nico had sat up and curled into my side. He wouldn't make eye contact with Cecil, but nodded his head in hello.

I took the glass and straw from Cecil, avoiding his pressured eye contact as well. I knew what his eyes were saying. Times up.

"Hey Neeks, here's dinner. Drink up," I handed him the glass and pointed the straw at him.

He drank slowly, but he drank.

I held him like that the whole night, and held him even closer under the blankets in bed, later that night.

I knew he needed his meds. His meds and his family. He needed to be back in the hospital, there was no way around it. He wasn't getting any better here. Whatever progress Nico and I had made, since he arrived, we had hit a stalemate.

I had just wanted to... keep Nico. Selfishly. I ached for him for months, and now that I had him, I didn't want to let him go. I wanted to squeeze him tighter. But the grace period— the honeymoon era— had ended. The smooth ice had broken and the two of us have plunged into a submerged, dark territory, and we were drowning.
Drowning, and the small air pockets of oxygen were becoming more and more sparse. Even the bubbles were disappearing. The deeper we sunk, the harder it would be for us to find the surface.

For both of our sakes, this had to end... even if it hurt. Even if it ruined things.

At least, now, Nico didn't want to die. And really, that's what mattered.

I kissed the top of his head as he slept and held him tight, in case I had to let go again. For however long that would be.

A/n

For such a short chapter, that took way too long to write. Sorry everyone, I am a busy person (lies) with a cramped schedule (also lies). I did have like 6 appointments last week tho. And also I've been writing the mermay fic that I'll be posting soon. Can you believe that! Trade in delusional and get two fics free! Mermay and my own little self projection again hehe.

Ok ok love y'all

Thea