NINETY-THREE

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WILL POV:
Somethings going on with Nico and I can't figure out what it is. Ever since we started school again he seemed kinda off but I really just thought he was stressed because of how much he hates school. Or he was stressed because I'm still hurt, and physical therapy only seems to make me be in more pain rather than less. Then out of the blue he cuts himself again and suddenly he's spiralling down a dark rabbit hole.

He's either been not sleeping, like at all, or sleeping for 12 hours at time with little in between. Even with the bursts of sleep his dark circles are still so dark he looks like he's been punched. I run my thumb under his eye softly as he leans against my palm. "I love you," I remind him.

He nods and smiles lightly, "I love you too."

I kiss his cheek, "You look exhausted baby. Did you have more nightmares last night?"

He nods again, pushing his face against my palm harder like a cat begging for attention. I can tell something is really eating away at him but it's killing me that I can't get him to tell me.

I sigh, "You need to get ready for school."

He tenses up but says nothing as he gets up and drags his feet to the bathroom to shower.

That's another thing Nicos been doing. Not complaining when I wake him up to get ready for school. I think somewhere in his brain he thinks if he doesn't complain I won't be able to tell that whatever is happening in his head right now is stemming from school.

Ten minutes later Nico is down the stairs ready to go and follows me out to our car only dragging his feet slightly. When we get there he looks at the school, swallows thickly and gets out of the car to go inside.

I hold his hand the whole way in, watching him carefully to see if I can finally see what's causing him so much pain. Of course I don't, he's either very good at a poker face or we didn't pass the person or thing.

For the whole day Nico appeared to be his new present definition of normal, slightly sluggish and somehow both very relaxed but jumpy at the same time. He drank all of my water bottle, which he absolutely never does, before noon and then drank it all again before the end of the day. When I inquired about why he's suddenly drinking so much water he just shrugged and said, "I was thirsty."

At the end of the day when I find him at his locker he looks like he's half asleep on his feet. "You okay?" I ask, coming up behind him and accidentally scaring him half to death.

He half heartedly hits my chest, "Don't scare me like that."

"It's not my fault you've been so jumpy lately," I say lightly, though I'm honestly very worried about it.

He looks at me with slightly unfocused eyes, "I just haven't been sleeping well."

"I know Neeks," I say gently, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

We walk hand in hand out to our car and Nico seems a little wobbly on his feet. "For some reason I'm getting like kinda bad vertigo," he complains. "That's not normal right?"

"No," I frown, feeling my eyebrows scrunch together, "It's not."

We get in the car and I turn to look at him. He looks back at me quizzically, probably trying to figure out what I'm doing. Eventually I decide to leave it for now and keep watching him to see if I think I'm right.

It's a couple days later and the symptoms seem to be getting worse. I can't shake the feeling that I think he's on something. I decide instead of confronting him about it, because I think it's something a lot harder than just weed, that tonight while he's in the shower I'm gonna search his room.

As soon as I hear the shower turn on I quickly go to his room and start searching all his usual places. When I don't find anything there I search more places I think he'd use.

Ten minutes later and I hear the water shut off but I still haven't found anything. I debate to just keep searching but decide against it and go back to our room. I sit down at my desk to try and do some homework, or act like I was doing homework, only to find that I do not have a pencil on my desk.

I stand up to get one just as Nico walks in with nothing but boxers on. I can't help but glance at the nearly finished healing fresh cuts on his arm but immediately look away. I go to his backpack where I know he has a couple pencils in his front pocket and open it.

"Will!" Nico exclaims, running over to me and snatching his backpack from me. I can't help but jump.

"What!" I snap a little because he scared me.

"W-What do you need," Nico says, visibly shaking. "I'll get it for you."

I narrow my eyes at him, "What are you hiding?"

He cools his face to a very forced neutral expression. "Nothing, I-I just know where everything is. I'll find it faster."

"Bull shit," I bite out before I can stop myself. "What are you hiding?"

He flinches as if I raised my hand but I know I didn't even twitch. "Nothing," he states plainly.

"Nico," I say firmly, "Give me your backpack."

"No," he says, hugging it to himself and turning away from me.

"Nico."

He gulps, "Please don't be mad." He starts shaking so bad for a second I'm concerned he's about to fall to the ground with a seizure.

"I won't be mad," I say truthfully. "No matter what it is."

"Promise?" he says weakly, his eyes filling quickly with tears.

I nod, "I promise."

He takes a deep breath and hands me his backpack. He looks terrified and so defeated.

I open the pocket and dig around till i find a plastic bag with about 10 small white pills. My heart drops. "What are these?" I ask Nico, my voice cracking slightly.

"Xanax," he says so quietly I almost didn't here him.

I nod and chew on the inside of my cheeks while I decide how to handle this. I must have been sitting there in silence for too long because suddenly I can hear Nico full on sobbing.

"I-I'm sorry," Nico cries, "I-I didn't mean to."

"It'll be okay," I say, not entirely sure if I'm talking to him or myself. I open my arms for a hug, "Come here love."

He launches himself at me and lets me tuck him close to myself. He clutches onto the back of my shirt as if he's scared I'm suddenly gonna pull away from him.

"I'm so sorry," Nico sobs. He's shaking so much I'm having to hold him up. Eventually I decide to just pick him up so we can both lay down on our bed. I pull him onto my chest and he hides his face in the crook of my neck.

"I love you, we're gonna get through this together okay?"

That makes him sob even harder but he nods anyways. "I love you more."

"Can I ask you something?"

He nods.

"Why?" I ask, pausing to see if he'll answer me. "Why did you start taking those again?"

He takes a shaky breathe that sounds and feels like it probably hurt him. "I don't know," he squeaks. "I didn't want to, but I just couldn't stop."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask. "If you wanted to stop but just couldn't, why didn't you come to me?"

He shakes his head, rubbing his face against my shirt. "I don't know," he says.

I take a deep breath because I'm starting to get slightly frustrated with how often he just keeps saying he doesn't know. He cuts him self but he doesn't know why. He's having nightmares nightly but he doesn't know why. He can't sleep at all but he doesn't know why. He starts popping xanax again but he doesn't know why.

I just wanna figure out what's wrong with my Neeks, but he doesn't seem like he's going to be telling me anytime soon. I'm really really worried about him.

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