party in the back anthology

Nightmare support

First, he reached over and turned on his bedside lamp which gently illuminated the two beds, then he crawled out of his blankets and knelt beside Payton where he lied with his hands covering his face in shame.

"Hey, it's okay," Dougie told him, slowly rising to his feet. "I'm gonna sit next to you, okay? Can I?"

"Yeah," came a choked out response.

So, as Payton tucked in his legs and scooted towards the other side of the bed, Dougie climbed into his spot and sat beside him. He looked over at his friend, who Dougie could tell was straining to keep himself from releasing a stream of tears.

"Wanna talk about it?" Dougie asked in a hushed voice.

Payton looked away. "No."

Dougie frowned, feeling at a loss for a moment until he remembered a certain drunk text he got from Payton a few months back. Holding his breath, he twisted his body and brought Payton's quivering frame in a secure embrace.

Although he wasn't rejecting the hug, Payton continued to blearily stare down the opposite wall. "I was doing so good," he whispered.

"It's not your fault," Dougie replied, tightenting his hold on the man.

He cried then, body shaking out the tears he had tried so hard to stop from falling, quietly in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeated between breaths.

"Stop apologizing," the demand was soft, with a sense of understanding to it. "Do what you need to do. I'm here, and I'll help you do whatever you have to do."

After a minute, Payton rested his head against the headboard and cursed, then again louder. Concerned, Dougie leaned away to see his face.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I need a drink," he admitted breathlessly, wrapping a stiff hand behind his head.

"Don't do it," Dougie said right away, sitting up straighter. "You've been working so hard."

"I know— I know!" Payton's voice had risen suddenly, which surprised Dougie. "I'm sorry," he sighed, letting his head hang. "You know that's a lot easier said than done."

"I know," Dougie muttered, feeling a bit guilty. "I just— I don't know. I remember how badly you wanted to quit, and how we'd promised to help you out..."

Payton jaw clenched as his eyes dared to cry again. He glanced at him.  "I know, Doug. I know you're trying to help, but for the past couple of months I feel like I've been holding on by the tip of my fingers," he murmured. "It's hard."

An urge to say something cliche rose in Dougie's throat but he forced it back and remained quiet. Payton didn't need nor want to hear something cliche. In a nervous habit, Dougie drummed his fingers against his knees as he thought of something to do or say.

There were a few long moments of finger-drumming and anxious breaths before Payton announced, "I'm going for a walk."

Dougie leaped out of bed, feeling a sudden rush throughout his body. "I'm going with you," he stated.

"Don't," Payton demanded, taking his jean jacket from his suitcase and throwing his arms into it.

"Why not?" Dougie insisted, narrowing his gaze at him. "I'll shut up. You won't even know I'm there."

"Go to sleep," Payton suggested, clear irritation coating his words. "Okay? I'm gonna feel bad if you can barely stay awake tomorrow. Plus, I know you get sick if you don't sleep enough during the night." He almost sounded genuine, but Dougie didn't care.