Push.

2. I'm a Little Bit Rusty, and I Think my Head is Caving in

Scott's eyes were wide and filling with tears. It was an image that was imprinted in Mitch's brain, but that he hadn't seen in so long.

"You fell in love with me," the blond reminded him, shakily.

"I couldn't have. You don't exist. I just thought I needed you, because you were all of the pathetic pieces of me that I couldn't figure out how to deal with. But I'm stronger now, and I can absorb you again. You need to go, Scott. And you shouldn't come back, this time."

"Remember how I used to hold you? Maybe we can just try-"

"Don't come near me," Mitch replied, backing up. "Don't touch me."

"You used to like how I touched you, how I kissed you," Scott nearly growled. "Intimacy with me wasn't scary. Intimacy with others? Now that's fucking scary..."

"You're the scariest thing in my life, Scott. There's no doubt about that, anymore."

"You don't mean that. You trust me. You need me..." Scott reached up to his scalp, pulling at the blond strands.

"You aren't here. You aren't hurting yourself. Stop that. It won't work."

Scott let out a sob, and reached forward, grabbing a textbook from the top of Mitch's dresser. He hurled it at the far wall, and the thud was drowned out by the blond's yell.

"Why don't you care about me?"

"Because you aren't here."

Mitch could essentially see the lightbulb turn on behind Scott's eyes, as though he had an idea.

"I'm not?" Scott asked, his voice abnormally high.

Mitch crossed his arms. "Tell me how to get rid of you."

Scott laughed. Hollow. Familiar. And he moved his way over to Mitch's desk, sitting in his chair.

"If I'm not real, you won't care when you watch me do this."

Mitch watched in horror as Scott threw his head against the hard wood. He lay face down against it, and Mitch only then realized that he had emitted a startled yell as he watched.

He was thankful that Kirstin wasn't home yet.

Scott sat back up after a moment, his chest heaving. Mitch could see tears forming in the cold eyes again.

And then, his face connected with the wood again.

A sob escaped the blond's lips, and Mitch almost reached for him.

Don't touch him. Don't touch... that will make it harder...

Be strong. He'll disappear if you stay strong. Maybe forever, this time.

Scott sat back up, and Mitch could see the red, swollen circle forming on the porcelain skin of his forehead already.

Thud.

Mitch clenched his eyes shut.

Thud.

He balled his hands into fists.

Thud.

Whimpers were all that he could hear now. It was hard to tell from whom they were coming, but Mitch was pretty sure that they were Scott's.

Thud.

A sharp intake of breath, and Mitch could see blood.

Thud.

He found himself thinking of Scott Hoying. Watching him split his face open. Watching him suffer, causing harm to himself.

Thud.

"STOP."

Scott stilled with his face against the desk, his shoulders slumped.

"Why should I?" he whispered.

Thud.

"Please... please stop..." Mitch sobbed.

Thud... Thud... Thud...

"Stop, sweetheart, please," Mitch whispered, pulling at Scott's shoulders and holding him upright from behind.

His face was pressed against Scott's neck, and he inhaled.

He had never placed the scent. It was floral, but masculine.

How could he have forgotten how good he smelled?

"I don't want you to leave me. It hurts so much-" Scott whimpered, reaching up to Mitch's arms to hold him tighter. Mitch complied, squeezing the larger frame.

"If he stays, I stay," Scott growled.

Mitch's arms fell to his sides in shock. "What?"

"If Scott Hoying stays, you won't get rid of me. I'll drive you insane. I'll hurt him, and you'll have to watch every second of it. I swear to God, Mitch, don't underestimate me."

"Why?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE WITH ME. YOU MET HIM BECAUSE OF ME."

Scott was on his feet, looming closer with his index finger outstretched, poking Mitch in the chest, painfully.

His forehead continued to be split with a stream of crimson, making Scott look even more terrifying. Blood dripped to the tip of his nose, falling in droplets onto the floor.

"You were supposed to leave him alone. Dr. Chastain, Kirstie, they all told you to leave. Him. Alone. And you didn't listen. So I'll make sure that you do this time. He goes, and I go. Otherwise, I will make sure that it's me who wins. Understood?"

"You were never like this..."

"I never had to watch someone else fuck you before," he seethed. "It kind of changes your perspective, believe it or not."

They could hear the front door shut, and Scott's eyes widened for a split second before narrowing again. "Get rid of him or I will."

A knock on his bedroom door startled him, and when he turned back, Scott was gone.

"Come in," he called, shakily.

Kirstin opened the door with a smile, but it quickly shifted as soon as she laid eyes on him. She rushed forward, placing her hands on his cheeks and looking desperately into his eyes.

"Mitch, what the hell happened to your forehead?"