Chapter Text
Todd and Neil smack right into each other, one entering the room and one leaving it. Both looking for each other.
"Neil!"
"Todd!"
"I swear I didn't mean to freak out-"
"I'm so sorry I wasn't answering-"
"I just wanted to talk to you-"
"I was so scared to talk to you-"
"But I shouldn't have pushed you."
"But I'm ready to talk now."
They stand there a minute, looking at each other. They're both worried about the other, worried what they're trying to say will hurt things more than heal them. This conversation is one that needs to be had. Those are always the worst ones. The scariest.
Neil figures he ought to start it off. "It's something I do when I mess up. I punish myself by not eating. And I know it's fucked up, I know, but it just comes naturally at this point. I'm scared to stop."
Todd bites his lip. "So it's another type of your self-harm?"
"Kind of? I- I guess. It's different, though. I don't do it to make myself feel better. I, uh, I do it to, you know... Feel worse."
"Oh. Oh."
Todd looks so hopelessly lost that Neil wants to skip even the smallest snacks for a week. Then he's imagining what Todd would look like if he said that. Then he feels a million times worse.
"Well," Todd says after a moment, "We'll handle it. Figure it out. Just like everything else, okay?"
Neil wants to say, "No. Not okay. You're taking away every single thing that makes me feel like I can be alive and okay and you never even asked me!" Instead, he says, "Okay."
There. That's out of the way. Confession down. Heart-to-heart complete. Worries calmed. Except they're not. Neil can see in Todd's eyes that they're not. There's something else to be addressed.
"Todd?"
"Yes?"
"Do you... Want to talk about your attack. Or, can I ask what it was about?"
Todd pales considerably.
"You don't have to! It's completely up to you. Just. This relationship isn't just about me and my problems, you know? I want to take care of you too."
He sighs and flops down on the bed, face into the pillow. Neil lays down beside him, wrapping an arm around him. Todd curls into him immediately, tucking his head under Neil's chin. Neil crosses a leg over Todd's and uses one hand to card through his hair. The other hand closes around Todd's and rests on his stomach. This is their favorite position, no matter who's where.
That's the one downside of their relationship. Two little spoons, and no big spoon.
Todd mumbles something Neil can't hear, so he shifts ever so slightly, just enough for his arm to not muffle Todd's mouth.
"What'd you say, love?"
He repeats himself faintly. " 'M worried about you."
"You don't need to be."
"But I AM. You're not taking care of yourself, baby. And I don't wanna see you hurt."
Neil brushes Todd's bangs out of his face. "I'm not."
"No, but you are! Always. And it scares me. Really, really badly."
He can feel his heart clench, but Todd isn't done.
"I just want to help you, but I- I never know how! And I'm trying, really trying, but I'm not enough. I am not enough!"
"Hey, breathe..."
"I just- I keep thinking back to the night of the play, and how sad everyone looked, and how cold the hospital was, and how different and dull and DEAD you looked, all covered up in tubes and wires, and I thought I'd never get to hold you again, and I- I-"
Todd buries his head in Neil's chest, crying quietly. One of Neil's hands squeezes Todd's, and the other rubs up and down his back. "It's okay, Todd, it's okay." But it's not. He knows it's not.
This isn't a good relationship. Todd's good, being with Todd is good. Making Todd feel this way, however, is not good, and Neil knows it. And it terrifies him.
Todd promised he'd be there for him, through everything, no matter what. He laid with Neil in that hospital bed, held him tight, and promised he wasn't alone. Neil doesn't want to give up the feeling of safety and comfort and love. Neil doesn't want to be alone.
Todd's breathing slows down, but his head stays close to Neil, who continues stroking it. It's quiet for a few minutes. They're just touching each other. Talking won't make either of them feel much better. However, talking still needs to happen.
"I'm sorry," Todd says. "I don't want to make you feel bad."
Neil shakes his head. "You're not," He lies. "I'm sorry for worrying you."
"It's okay. It's okay."
"Is it?"
"I don't really know."
They hold each other tighter. Uncertainty washes over them and nearly sweeps them away. But they stay together.
"Are you?"
Neil looks at him. "Am I what?"
"Okay?"
Is he? He has absolutely no idea. He always tells people he is, if they ask. Or sometimes, even if they don't, just to prove a point. He always tells himself he is, or at least, that he needs to be. But is he really, truly okay?
"I don't really know either."
Todd nods against his neck, seemingly satisfied with the answer. He figures it's the truth, at least. Neil never answers that question truthfully. "Oh. Okay." He presses himself closer to Neil's body. Oh, yeah. Todd's definitely going to have to be the little spoon tonight.
"Tired?"
He hums. "Little bit."
"Sleep, then."
"Only if you do too."
Neil rests his head on top of Todd's and breathes in and out. "Okay."
Todd falls asleep almost instantly. Right before he does, he tucks his head down, and whispers so quietly Neil thinks he wasn't intended to hear, "I'm sorry I'm not enough."
The words send a chill down his spine. This is because Neil knows Todd is right. Todd isn't enough. But that's not his fault. And it's not Neil's either. It's no one's fault, expect maybe this Goddamn hormonal imbalance that's constantly screwing with his brain.
The fact of the matter is, Todd is not enough. Neil needs more. Todd can't keep tearing himself apart with worry, only for Neil to worry about him worrying. This game of theirs isn't working. It's unhealthy. Neil needs someone else.
Neil doesn't fall asleep. He tries, honestly, but he can't be sleeping. He has something to do.
~~~
Mr. Keating answers the door, of course. He always does. Neil has no idea when this man sleeps, but a small, selfish part of him is grateful he doesn't. God knows these 2AM tea and vent sessions have saved his life more than once. In fact, Mr. Keating doesn't even blink when he sees Neil's face, as tired and teary as it is. He just opens the door wider.
Neil trails in and sits. Keating brews tea, pours them both a cup, and sits down across from him. Neil's hands are in his lap, fiddling with a loose thread on his sweater.
"Neil. What's up?"
"Do you know any good therapists nearby?"