Scömìche One Shots (*PG-R*)

Caddy

"You're okay," Mitch mumbled, more to himself than to Scott, who looked like he wasn't going to last long. Mitch reached for the blond's hands, surprised by how frail and cold they seemed, so unusual from what they usually were, and slowly lowered himself onto his knees before tugging at Scott's hands a couple of times. Scott ignored him, not even seeming to register that Mitch was kneeling in front of him. His eyelids fluttered slowly and weakly as he slumped lower down the wall that he was leaning against.

Mitch stood up, realizing that Scott was beyond helping himself, and carefully wrapped an arm around him. He carefully helped the boy to the ground, worried that Scott's knees would buckle before he was able to do it himself. He gradually eased Scott down until they were both sitting against the wall, turning to look at him once they were situated. He seemed to meet Scott's eyes as they skimmed his face and Mitch smiled sympathetically, reaching up to push Scott's hair off of his cool forehead. He could feel a tiny bit of sweat at the roots of Scott's hair and tried to keep his worry at a minimum. He was doing a good job. He could handle this. Scott was going to be okay.

"You're okay," Mitch repeated, louder this time so that Scott could hear. "You're okay, Scott. Just breathe, okay?"

Scott hummed, either in understanding or annoyance but knowing Scott, it was probably the latter. His eyes had fallen away from Mitch's and the brunette began to panic again, his eyes shooting open in alarm when they shut for good.

"Scott! Hey, look at me. Do you want me to go get you some wa-"

Mitch's heart jumped into his throat as Scott's head lolled to the side, weakly pushing back up and then falling down again. An audibly panicked breath left Mitch's mouth before he pulled Scott away from the wall lay the blond's head across his lap, pushing his hair away from his face and whispering loudly to him.

"Scott? Scott! Can you hear me?"

Scott moved his head a little in response- or, at least Mitch hoped it was in response. He asked again, a little louder to see if Scott could hear him, and received no response at all. Mitch leaned over him so that Scott could hear him better and repeated his name as loudly as he could without attracting too much attention in the hallway, not that anyone was there, and quickly assessing how to help him regain consciousness. Thankfully, Scott's clothing wasn't tight enough to restrict his air flow- Mitch quickly undid the drawstring of Scott's pants and took his watch off just to help his circulation, still talking to him in case he could hear him. He knew he should raise Scott's legs to help his blood flow but he was too worried to move his head off of his thighs- the floor was hard and cold, and Mitch was way to anxious to try to set Scott's head down after considering he might drop it too fast and hurt him.

Mitch took a break from whisper-shouting Scott's name into his ear when he saw Scott's eyes flutter a little. He took Scott's hand in his and pushed his sleeve up, pressing his thumb against Scott's wrist to check his pulse. He felt Scott jerk his fingers and was relieved, looking back down at his face to find him finally blinking a little, if slowly, again. His head was still heavy in Mitch's lap, but he seemed to be coming back from his fainting spell.

"Scott? Hey, Scotty, can you hear me, baby? Hmm?"

Scott looked up at him for a moment before losing focus and staring off at nothing in front of him.

"Scott! Scott, no. Stay with me. Hey, look here."

Mitch waved his hand in front of Scott's face, trying to catch his attention but instead making him squeeze his eyes shut. Shit, that probably wasn't a good idea. He'd probably made him nauseous moving his hand so quickly right in front of Scott's face.

"Oh! Sorry, baby. My bad. Can you hear me?"

Scott took a second before he finally hummed and fluttered his eyelids, looking back up at Mitch. His eye contact lasted a little longer this time and he seemed to finally be inching closer to awareness, despite that his pulse was still a little too slow under the pressure of Mitch's searching thumb. Mitch smiled and reached over to where he'd dropped his notebook, using it to lightly fan Scott's face.