Broken String

LI

It winds up being past one in the morning when Brett finally gets up stiffly and starts pushing him back to the apartment. They've been quiet, this last hour, that comfortable kind of quiet you can only get from knowing someone very well enhanced by the night, and they've talked as well, but just about normal stuff. It's like Brett understands too that tonight couldn't be about doctors.
He's been so relaxed in fact that he expects to stay that way, now. Surely he can just get to his room, get ready, fall asleep like a normal person after this? He's cold, too, properly cold by now, so the quilt will be a welcome embrace. He can simply snuggle up in bed and stay in this happy space he's been in.

So why is it then, that an iron fist seems to grip its way around Eddy's heart as they get close to the building? Grips him harder still when Brett pushes him into the lift, the light so bright he has to squint? Suddenly he can barely breathe because this fist is tight around his heart, pushing the blood out of it, making him faint and weak, and he's having to fight hard to stop Brett from seeing him struggle yet again. It's like everything he thought he'd left behind tonight has simply been waiting for him, lying in ambush back in his room. Loneliness. Pain. Despair. His bed, which hasn't been cleaned since he was in it with Anna, so it can remind him too of how stupid he has been.
His lip quivers and he tries not to look in the mirror that's right in front of him. He knows what he'd see. Wide, scared eyes. Dark, darkest bags under said eyes. Pale skin. It's nothing he needs to acknowledge.
"Eddy. What's happening."
Oh God, that's it, Brett's seen, and now he'll have to say and blow the last of the magic out of the closed doors of the lift. He looks up and sees exactly what he feared. He also sees Brett's face, though, behind and above his own. Worried. Still. 
"I... I thought. I thought..." It's getting harder and harder to breathe, and he can feel the treacherous tears already, bubbling up in him as his heart pounds under the squeezing fist. "I thought that I could stay that calm."
Brett's hand moves from the wheelchair handle to his shoulder. It's warm despite the chill and it makes Eddy cry more. God, he hopes the boys have gone to bed already and won't see him come in like this. 
"Eddy, it's okay. You don't need to be strong for me. Just let me in, yeah?"
The lift doors ping and Brett pulls him out of it, then pushes him to their front door in one quick move. And that's it, Eddy can't hide anything anymore because his breaths are fast now, audibly fast, too fast, and he's crying for real. 
"B... Brett... Fuck. Todd. Ian." he manages as Brett puts the key in the lock. 
"They'll be asleep I'm sure." Brett says calmly. He opens the door and pushes Eddy into the dark room. "See?"
"B... bedroom."
"Yeah."
It takes Brett only seconds to get him in there. Eddy is dizzy by now, courtesy of the fast breathing, and he's feeling sick. He can't throw up, though. He can't, no matter how tightly his heart is squeezed. 
"Okay, okay. Hey. You're okay." Brett's soothing voice comes. "You're okay. So talk to me, alright? What's happening?"
Brett's voice is so calm, so sonorous even though he speaks quietly that it helps, somewhat. Eddy looks at the bed and tries his hardest to take calm breaths. In one two, out one two three four. In one two, out one two three four like the exercise they taught them at the con once. His heart is still racing, but the fist seems to have left his body now, at least. 
"Is this because of Anna?" Brett asks. 
Eddy shrugs. 
"N... no. It's... it's because... because of everything."
Brett nods and holds out his arm for him to take so he can get out of the chair, but Eddy shakes his head. Much as he'd love to just fall into the bed and disappear from the world, he can't. Not yet. 
"I need the toilet." he confesses. "And to brush my teeth." 
The fact that he needs to even ask to go to the bathroom, that he can't just walk there and take care of business like he always has, brings on a whole new round of fast breaths. But somehow he's stronger again now, now that he's here in his room he's no longer powerless, back in this familiar space where he's lost it so many times already that one more doesn't seem to matter, he's back in all of the crap anyway so the pain at least can't blindside him anymore.
Now that he's here knows how to fight again. God, he wishes he wouldn't have to fight again, that they could live in the park and forget all about the rest of the world. But he'll be okay.
He will be. 

"Sure." Brett says, and pushes him out of the room without another word. 

A/N. So, to counter all the drama here a little I've posted a sweet little chap 2 on the oneshot book. Hope you enjoy it! Lots of love from your Author-san.