Broken String

CL

A/N. Hi sweet peeps, I hear that again there was no notif on Wednesday's chap... please do read it though if you haven't yet so there's no gaps in the story! I hope you all get a notif again today but in case you don't: I always post Mon, Wed and Fri in the Northern European A.M.
As always, thanks for reading, starring, commenting. Love to you all! 

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It's a little bit of a walk - or roll - of shame. No, strike that, it's a lot of a walk of shame, entering the living room where Todd is starting on dinner and Ian is sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone, peering intently at it. Yeah, there's no way they don't know what's just happened. 
"Hi." he bites the bullet quietly. Ian looks up and the corners of his lips instantly seem to touch his ears.
Wait. Ian is happy? Since when? 
"Todd filled me in." he says almost shyly. "I hope that's okay. Wow. Eddy. I... this is the best news. I'm just looking up what it all means."
"Um. Then you probably know more than me."
The silliness of it all floods over Eddy unexpectedly and all at once he wants to turn around, flee, hide under the covers old Eddy style. Because it doesn't matter what Brett said about dying on hills, was it? It was his own fault, right? He overpractised, quite literally made himself sick? 
It was him, right, who made everyone's life miserable? Had everyone take care of him, miss practice, miss rehearsals? He looks down to avoid Ian's eyes, Ian's smile. 
Does he even deserve to be smiled at?
"Um. I'm sorry." he whispers. "I mean..."
It's a collective intake of breath, and from the corners of his eyes he can see that everyone stops what they're doing. Brett rushes to the front, Todd turns around, Ian puts down his phone. But look. He knows what Brett said about the hill and why but he thing is, he's different now. He's not small anymore, not weak. And this needs to be said.
It needs to be off his chest.
So he squares his shoulders, looks up and looks them in the eye one by one. 
"Um. It seems I caused all of this myself. I want to tell you all that I'm sorry."
"Eddy..." Brett warns. 
"I know, Bretty. Hill, dying. But I have to say this." he states and shrugs. He bites down the tears that want to flow, even though this has been such a happy day. 
Was it all really unnecessary, all of it, everything that happened? He could have avoided it all by taking better care of himself?
"Eddy." Ian says suddenly, startling him because his tone so calm, so composed that there's no way to not look up and take notice. "Um. I'm no stranger to mental health issues. You know this."
Eddy does, of course. He knows how he used to flee to the toilet and come back looking haggard. He also knows that he has an alcoholic arsehole dad and neglectful mum, so he has good reason. 
It's not the same thing, and his mouth is already opening to tell him so, but Ian raises his hand and freezes the words in his throat.
"No, Eddy, don't tell me that's not the same thing. You think you've lived through nothing? I know your family history, I know how hard you fought to be allowed to go to the con. I know you came here and knew nothing about the country, way back when, I know how hard you've worked to fit in. I know about the discrimination and about your dad. I know the expectations you have of yourself. That your family have of you. Please. You think you have no right?"

Time stops as Ian talks and Eddy can do nothing but sit and gape at him. This is quite definitely the longest sentence he's ever heard him speak. A tear wells and flows unabated as Ian carries on. 
"Would you have said to me to just get over it already? Why is it different, just because something is mental? Why would it be different, just because it's you and not me? Why would this be less bad than if you'd fallen off your bike and broken your arm and leg?"
"Um... I don't know." he whispers through trembling lips. "Because I could have stopped it from happening."
"You could also have stopped yourself going on the hypothetical bike in the first place. So is it now your fault your hypothetical limbs are broken?"
Fuck it all, he's crying in front of his friends, and he doesn't even know what to say now. 
"He's got a point, right?" Brett says suddenly, his hand going on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Eddy nods. 
"Yeah."
"So cut yourself some slack?"
Eddy shrugs. 
"Maybe."
"Well." Todd pipes up suddenly. "To be honest, I for one have been enjoying all of the D&D. And the dinners I've made. So you won't hear me complaining. Yeah? Speaking of dinners. I'm making pasta al tonno. Any objections? I mean, if there are it sucks to be you because that's what I'm making anyway, but still?"
Eddy smiles as the tears fade away and he takes a deep breath. 
Healing. 
He is healing. 
He'll think about what Ian said later. But for now he is just healing. 
"No objections at all." he says. "Seriously though, guys. Thanks."
"Don't mention it." Todd says as he grabs a pan from a cupboard. And his tone states clearly that he means it.