Denial - a Breddy fanfic

121.

"Hey, can you do the laundry today?" Eddy asked during the breakfast he had cooked for both of them. It was a few weeks since Brett's dad's funeral, and Brett was finally spending whole days out of bed, much to Eddy's relief. Brett looked up from his phone for a second with tired eyes.
"Sure, I'll get to it", he replied before turning his attention back to the cats pushing stuff off of tables. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Eddy, he just felt so guilty. Everything felt heavy, like a lead blanket was forced around his shoulders, holding him back. He knew Eddy was picking up the slacks where he would have left it to pile up before Eddy moved in, and it felt awful. It wasn't that he didn't want to help out, it was just that even getting out of bed felt like he was running a marathon while failing his music theory exam.
"Please actually do it today, then", Eddy sighed, stabbing a piece of the eggs he had cooked with his fork. "I'm running out of hoodies."

Eddy wasn't really mad at Brett, knowing Brett couldn't help being depressed and grieving his father's death. He was just tired and frustrated. They were trying to plan a wedding with one of them only barely managing to get out of bed, and Eddy was really struggling to keep everything else running at this point as well. The channel, their new household, maintaining a relationship. To put it in short: He was struggling to stay strong for Brett.

"Have you thought more about getting help, Brett?" Eddy asked, leaning over the table to touch his arm and get his attention. "Like a therapist or something?"
Brett shook his head and put his phone down on the table while taking a bite of the food Eddy was making him eat, kind of to prove a point.
"I'm fine, I just need to pull myself together", he mumbled, running a hand through his greasy hair. "I'm sorry I didn't do the laundry when you asked the first time. I promise I'll get to it today. Promise." He pulled his arm away from Eddy, who pulled his hand back as well. A tension was building.
Eddy sighed in frustration. It had been weeks since they came back to Australia and Eddy had discovered that he obviously wasn't enough to pull Brett out of the dark hole that was his depression.
"It's not about the laundry, Brett, and you know it", Eddy said, involuntarily letting his frustration shine through in his voice. "I love you, and I worry about you. Please see a therapist, Brett. It can't hurt."
"I told you, I just need to pull myself together. Just give me some time", Brett said, standing up. "I'm gonna... I'll be in bed if you need me."

They had discussed potentially going to the therapist every day for the past two weeks. Eddy knew Brett needed it, and Brett was convinced he just needed to pull himself together, and consequently felt guilty about not being able to do so. It was an unbreakable cycle.
Eddy tried to be strong for Brett, to help him as best as he could. He had hugged him when he needed it and kissed him when he needed that. Anything Brett needed, Eddy would fix for him.

That's why it hit Eddy so hard when he found the laundry still not touched by the washer that evening. It was such a small thing, and Brett had promised. He didn't even realize he was crying until a tear fell off his face and hit his hand as he loaded one of Brett's sweaters into the washer. He felt weak, and ended up sitting down on his knees in front of the washer, crying his eyes out.
This was not how he had imagined living with Brett, constantly feeling like he couldn't do enough, that he wasn't enough. He curled up, pressing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Brett was probably asleep by now, and Eddy tried to keep his sobs as quiet as possible, to not wake Brett. Brett needed his sleep, and Eddy would make sure he got it.
He had to be strong for Brett, but right now, sobbing in the laundry room and trying to be as quiet as he could, all he wanted in the world was for Brett to hold him and tell him it would be fine.
It felt like he was wishing for the world.