Come On & Save Me

Chapter Twenty Eight

*Jack's POV*

Things seemed to be coming full circle for us. First it was me needing all of the support, and now it was Alex. He couldn't even stand up in the shower right now. I'm sure he could have if he felt like he had the mental drive to, but he didn't. He was in an episode, plain and simple. 
After I was done rinsing myself off, I flipped the plug and turned the shower head off, turning the tap on instead and letting the tub fill with water.
I sat against the back of the tub and pulled him against me, cradling him against my chest.
He closed his eyes and just laid there against me. I wondered if this is how I seemed to him, broken and completely lost. I remembered the first few weeks I'd spent with Alex. Terrified and quiet, hardly speaking to anyone other than him. Hell, I hardly spoke to him unless I was crying at first. 
Seeing this through brand new eyes had me really thinking hard. 
I'd have to get better at learning how to help him. I know there wasn't much I could do, because  I don't live in his head, hear what he hears, see what he sees, or the thoughts that his mind comes up with, but I can be here for him. 
"My parents think I'm insane." He mumbled.
"I don't think that they think that." I said quietly, rubbing his back, then reaching out with my foot to turn the tap off once the tub was full.
"They told me once...I got really bad and they told me if I couldn't calm down, they'd call emergency services because they didn't know what to do. AKA get me admitted." He traced his finger up and down my chest.
"Well, should they have?" I asked, kissing his wet hair.
"Probably." He muttered, "I wanna go to bed." 

*Alex's POV*

I was spiraling and I didn't know how to get out of it. Jack had seen one of my worst breakdowns, but he also helped fix it. This wasn't something he'd seen before. This was a whole different thing. I felt completely disconnected from myself. My head wouldn't shut up but I didn't know what it was saying. I wasn't sure that this was something he could fix. My head was ringing. It was buzzing. There was no consistency. Lately, I hadn't let it get this far for Jack's sake, but this time, I had no choice in the matter. I couldn't stop what was happening.
So I wanted to go to bed, except I really didn't at all.
Jack helped me out of the shower, and I lazily dried off and got myself dressed, I didn't care what I wore. It was shorts and a t shirt. 
I laid down in bed and pulled the blanket over my head.
Jack joined me after a minute, wrapping his arm around my waist and pressing his back up against mine, making me the little spoon. It felt good.
"Do you want me to put something on or do you just want to lay here?" He asked me.
I wasn't about to stop him from putting something on for himself, but I couldn't guarantee that I'd watch it. In fact, I'd bet my entire savings account that I wouldn't if I had someone to bet against. Maybe my own stupid brain.
"You can put something on." I whispered, staring at nothing in the dark.

I got wrapped up in my own thoughts. 
Why were people like this? What chemical imbalance caught people so off guard? Why were so many people so happy, exhilarated, feeling on top of the world one minute, just to get hit by a tidal wave and have it all come crashing down? Who made that happen? What got so screwed up in humanity's gene pool that this became such a problem? Did it all stem from the panic and anxiety the first humans must have had being around big predatory animals all the time, not knowing if they'd be catching a meal or becoming the meal? Was it just a fault in the DNA? How did that fault happen though? Was it just like a puzzle that came missing one piece? A crucial one at that? Were people really born with this, or did so much trauma just happen that it was developed? I got told I was born this way, and I hadn't had much trauma until the screaming happened and then the death. I thought about that too, I'd had trauma my whole life, all because of the screaming. So maybe I did develop it? It didn't much matter in the grand scheme of things. Either way, I was fucked up beyond belief and beyond repair. At this point, I truly was damaged goods. I deserved to be rotting in a landfill rather than being here.

Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to simply disappear. 
To trade away the torture for a never ending future.
To feel so free, I could fly.
Even if it meant that I had to die.
Death is meant to be painless.
That's a lie.
It's painful for the ones you leave behind.
Thinking this way, like your end is nigh.
Truthfully, I yearned for the feeling like I could fly.
I'd hover over the clouds and watch the world float by.
Not a single thought in my mind.
All because I chose to simply disappear.