Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The drive home was quiet.

Whenever Dan was in the passenger seat, he tended to stare out the window – if he wasn’t engaged in conversation, at least. That time, though, he just looked despondent. Lost.

What happened back there? Chris wasn’t going to bother asking again. He hadn’t received an answer the first time, and apart from that ‘I’m not going back’ remark, Dan hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the therapist’s office.

To say Chris was worried would be an understatement, but he was stuck in the mindset of what can I do about it? For the moment, ‘nothing’ appeared to be the only answer. The silence in the car had been palpable, even after Chris had switched on the radio to provide some kind of background noise. The occasional song interspersed between host segments and sponsored advertisements provided some kind of comforting white noise, but did little to quell the worry that had settled itself in Chris’s chest.

Even after they had gotten home, Dan hadn’t bothered to try and talk to him then, either. He’d just wordlessly left the car and gone inside – not even bothering to acknowledge Elise when she’d looked up from her book to greet him. The follow-up question of, “So, how’d it go?” from her was left unanswered as Dan made his way down the hallway, disappearing from her line of vision.

Rude. Her face scrunched up in mild annoyance. Usually, Dan would at least say something to her – having learned very quickly that ignoring her in her own house was not a good idea. She would have gone to say something to him, but the glimpse of the bleak expression she caught on his face made her hesitate. Instead, she turned to Chris, who’d entered the room a few seconds after Dan. “What the hell happened back there?” She asked, although her tone made it sound more like a demand.

Chris looked at her hopelessly. The stress of the whole nightmare situation had been eating at him for weeks, and then suddenly Dan was acting weirder and then Elise wanted answers too and— “How am I supposed to know?!” He snapped, throwing his arms up in frustration, “I wasn’t allowed in the room!”

Elise felt herself becoming more irritated. She didn’t see how such a simple question warranted that kind of response from her husband. She began walking over to him, “What do you mean you don’t know?” She also sounded frustrated. Apparently, answers were hard to come by in their house, “Dan didn’t even tell you?”

Shit. I snapped at her, didn’t I? He breathed out slowly, attempting to calm down. It wasn’t her fault, and he’d feel terrible if he lashed out at her over Dan’s issues. He felt the frustration simmer down. Exhaustion began to take its place. He made an effort to speak more gently. “Do you really think I’d be having this conversation with you if he had?”
That was when it clicked for Elise. Chris was trying. He’d been worn kind of thin those last few weeks, trying to be supportive to two people – and suddenly the situation had gotten worse. The whole ordeal had been stressful, and a lot of change had happened in such a short amount of time. It wasn’t often that Chris was anything other than content and laidback. Elise reminded herself of that fact.

She changed her approach; toning down on the annoyance. She pinched the bridge of her nose to ground herself. It was helpful sometimes. “Okay, fair.” She sighed, passive, “Just… try to find out what’s going on. Whatever… that was,” she gestured to the hallway Dan had walked down, “wasn’t right.”

Chris glanced down the same hallway wearily. At least Elise seemed to understand where he was coming from. “Yeah, I know.”

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It quickly became apparent that Dan may or may not have been avoiding people.

Since returning home, he’d continued to refuse to say a word to anyone, and had been conspicuously absent from any of the high-traffic areas of the house. By the time the sun was beginning to set, Chris realised that it had been hours since he’d seen his partner.

At first, he’d assumed Dan had just gone to sleep or something. That was fine – Chris had taken the opportunity to watch romantic comedies without the risk of ridicule, since Elise had busied herself in the garage for a while. Although, when it had been a little too long without some sign of other life in the house, Chris figured he should check in on Dan and see if he was feeling better.

When Chris had entered the bedroom, the first thing he noticed was that it was empty. He could have sworn Dan had headed that way, even if it was hours ago – so Chris had no idea where else he could have gone. It wasn’t as if he’d ran into Dan at all throughout the rest of the day, and the man was way too loud for Chris to not have noticed if he’d left, but—did he leave?

That set off alarm bells in Chris’s head. He left the bedroom and made his way through the house, trying to think of anywhere Dan may have wandered off to, only to come up empty-handed. The thought of checking in with Elise to see if she knew anything crossed his mind. It seemed like a long-shot, considering she was still preoccupied in the garage, but maybe Dan had decided to go pester her. Chris doubted it, but he figured he should check anyway.

He opened the garage door, and sure enough, Elise was hard at work – putting together some contraption she claimed was a ‘computer’. Chris wasn’t too sure of that. It didn’t look like any kind of computer he’d seen before, but he knew better than to question her on it. It wasn’t the most pressing issue, anyway. “Hey, Elise?”

She continued tightening a bolt, not bothering to look up from what she was doing, “Yes, honey?” She called back.

Chris stepped further into the garage, trying not to think too hard about exactly what Elise was working on. It was yet another thing he wouldn’t receive an answer about. “Have you seen Dan? I can’t find him.” He glanced around the garage, hoping to see the man hiding behind something. It seemed incredibly unlikely.

“Can’t say I have.” She said casually, sparing a second’s glance in Chris’s direction. She managed to look mildly concerned. “He’s not around here anywhere?”

Chris shook his head, “No, he’s not.”

Elise thought for a moment. She’d been too preoccupied building what was definitely not a weapon of mass destruction to have paid any attention to Dan’s whereabouts. It wouldn’t have surprised her if he wasn’t even home in the first place. “Is his car in the driveway?” She inquired.

“I….” Chris trailed off, thinking about it. He figured it would have been, since Dan hadn’t gone through the living room at all. How else would he get to the front door? “Haven’t checked actually.” He admitted, realising he may as well check before doing something drastic – like literally combing the grass for clues. He gave his wife an appreciative smile, “Thanks, Elise.”

She grinned back warmly, “Anytime.”

Following her advice, he checked the driveway – and lo and behold, Dan’s car was gone. Great. “Damnit. Where the hell could he have gone?” The question was addressed to no one in particular. It was getting dark, and apart from the occasional (definitely not) criminal activity in the name of ‘justice’ – Dan didn’t really leave the house, at least, not late at night, anyway. There was a reason his old apartment had been in such a state; not only had the man never cleaned, but he seemed averse to facing the outside world unless he deemed it necessary. Or to see Chris.

Before making any further decisions, Chris tried ringing his boyfriend’s number. Straight to voicemail. Of course. He sighed in frustration. Apparently, there was no choice but to go on a man-hunt. Chris went back inside to let Elise know he was taking the car, and within a few minutes, he was on the road.

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The usual places turned out to be a bust – then again, Chris should have known better than to think Dan would have hidden out in restaurants with people. Chris didn’t have much luck in the library either, which – okay, maybe Dan had only ever agreed to go there under the pretence of gaining information on his enemies (why the hell else would he go to a library of all places?), but Chris was running out of options. The cliff where they’d (almost) fought to the death was as vacated as usual, and the odds that Dan would try hiding out in a forest where some guy tried to kill them were… admittedly, more likely than Chris would have liked to think, but perhaps he’d keep that place as an ultimate last resort to check.

That only left a few more places to look; one of which Chris didn’t think would have even been on the list anymore. The thought of just to be sure sat uneasily in his mind, and he knew he’d be kicking himself if it turned out Dan had been there, and Chris just hadn’t bothered to acknowledge it as a possibility. So, he made his way over to one of the last places he thought his boyfriend would go – his old apartment complex.

Either surprisingly or unsurprisingly – depending on which angle you looked at it from – Chris had actually found Dan’s beat-up old car parked around the corner from his old apartment. Apparently, parking was as difficult as ever to get. Dan had even mentioned while moving out that the shit parking was one of the things he wouldn’t miss about the place, so then why he’d chosen to hide out there, Chris didn’t know.

Chris figured he’d knock on the apartment door to start with. For all he knew, Dan may have kept a copy of the key, or somehow made a copy of one for the new locks after the landlords had inevitably changed them. It wouldn’t have surprised him. After all, Dan did way more questionable things than keeping keys for places that weren’t his. The copy of the key he’d had for Chris’s place for years was a testament to that fact.

About a minute or so after knocking, a heavy-set, slightly greying woman answered the door, giving Chris a curious and slightly weary stare. Fair, considering the neighbourhood she’d apparently moved into. “Can I help you?” She asked cautiously.

“I was actually looking for my boy — friend.” Chris answered sheepishly. It was easy to forget how some older people could still be a little judgemental, and considering that the woman who’d answered the door was hostile right off the bat, Chris decided it was better to err on the side of caution. “He used to live here.” He elaborated.

“Well it’s just me now.” She replied coldly, “There’s no one else here, and I plan on keeping it that way.” She gave Chris a pointed stare – almost daring him to try something.

He hadn’t planned on it. Still didn’t. “Of course,” He said passively, “Sorry for disturbing you.”

She grunted in response, eyeing him up and down before seemingly deciding that Chris probably wasn’t a threat. That was assuming his friendly, almost doormat-like demeanour was anything to go by. “I hope you find your ‘friend’.” She used air quotes. Despite the rough exterior of her tone, she sounded strangely genuine, but Chris didn’t have a lot of time to ponder on that before she firmly shut the door and locked it.

Chris scratched at the side of his head in thought, “He’s not here. So where...?” He glanced around, before an idea struck him. The roof. “Why didn’t I think of that in the first place?” He muttered to himself, walking down the complex steps and inspecting the building for a way up. After a few moments of looking around, he spotted a ladder on one of the exterior walls.

Soon enough, Chris was scaling the side of the complex – focusing on the ladder rungs ahead rather than the ground below. Heights weren’t so scary if you didn’t focus on them. At least, Chris told himself that so he wouldn’t think too much about it.

Once Chris got on the roof, it hadn’t taken long to spot Dan huddled into himself, leaning against one of the roof’s concrete structures. Dan had always been a bit on the short side, but he never really looked small – or not in the way that Chris would have described him looking that night. It caused an indiscernible knot to form in his stomach. He began walking over to Dan, who still hadn’t noticed the presence of another person.

“I was hoping I wouldn’t find you here.” Chris commented. He received no response; as if Dan hadn’t heard him, but there hadn’t been even the slightest wind resistance against the stifling silence on the roof.

Dan had been hoping Chris wouldn’t find him there either. He figured his old apartment complex would have been the last place his partner thought to find him – and fuck, the idea of that was constricting. Being loved. Cared for.

He heard more than saw Chris sit down next to him – one long leg stretched out and the other hooked lazily under his arm. “Do you want to tell me what you’re doing here?” Chris asked. He stared at the wall of the building ahead of him, not bothering to try and make eye contact. He figured it’d be a wasted effort at that moment.

Dan considered saying nothing back. There wasn’t really anything he wanted to say or even do for that matter. The idea of shrivelling up into nothing and not having to experience – whatever one would describe oppressive nothingness as, would have been desirable. Ideal. Yet, there he was, on the roof of his old home next to one of the few people he even remotely cared about, and all he could think was that he’d rather be alone. Not thought about by anyone.

Finally, Dan said something – but the words had more slipped out rather than him actually thinking them through. “I never should have moved out of this place.” He was devoid of any emotion; almost lifeless.

Chris looked hurt at the comment. Did Dan not want to live with me? Or worse, did he regret getting together in the first place? “Dan, how could you say that?” He sounded as hurt as he looked.

Dan finally looked at Chris – regret taking over his face as soon as he saw his boyfriend’s expression. Shit, I didn’t mean it like that – only you did. You did mean it like that and he knows and now he wants nothing to do with you and — Dan couldn’t even begin to fathom how to respond to that. He shouldn’t have said anything at all. Chris could tell Dan regretted moving in, even if he had the reason for why completely wrong – and Dan was going to have to do all he could to convince his partner that it was anything but what he was thinking, even though he had no idea how to.

Dan regretted moving in. Letting someone in. Getting close to another human being. He regretted inadvertently dragging someone else into his own mess. He didn’t want to deal with himself. Think about it, and suddenly there was this other person who did and asked questions and it happened to be Chris, and oh god— Dan didn’t want to lose him, but he didn’t want to have to face even himself in that moment. Chris asked him questions. Wanted to make sure he was okay. Worried about him – and the worry pulled Chris to want to know more about Dan’s life, but Dan didn’t want to even acknowledge his past in any capacity. He just wanted it over with, but his nightmares didn’t want to let that happen.

Fuck. When did everything have to get so complicated? Dan huffed tiredly, looking away again. “I didn’t mean that.” He still lacked fire in his voice. Conviction.

Chris didn’t miss that either. He let the comment go for the moment, because clearly Dan wasn’t even remotely in the right head-space to answer that question anyway. Chris decided to ask something else instead. “You haven’t been yourself since that appointment. Why can’t you tell me what happened?” He still sounded hurt, but undeniable frustration had seeped in too.

Dan shrugged half-heartedly, “I just. Can’t.” He rubbed his palm into his eye to try and fight the fatigue that’d been creeping in the entire afternoon. “Please don’t ask.”

That ‘please’ wasn’t overlooked either. Dan never used manners, unless it was something he felt very strongly enough about. As much as Chris hated it, he realised there was no point prodding. Whatever had happened had taken some kind of toll on Dan, and at the very least, trying to ask about it at that moment seemed like it’d just make things worse. “Okay Dan. I won’t ask.” Chris answered softly. He glanced down at Dan’s hand, considering grabbing it, and then thought better of it, “But will you please just come home? I won’t try to make you talk, but you really can’t stay out here.”

The side of Dan’s mouth turned upward in a half grimace. He really seemed against the idea of going home. Had Dan been his usual self, Chris would have been blatantly upset about it, but he was too in the dark about what was going on to have any clue what to make of it – beyond trying to rationalise that it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with whatever had happened to Dan in that session.

“Okay.” Dan answered quietly, before slowly getting up.

Chris followed behind, walking over to the ladder and climbing down the side of the building. He got into his own car and watched Dan do the same before even thinking of taking off. He even followed behind Dan’s car for extra measure; he couldn’t be too sure Dan wouldn’t try to take off somewhere else otherwise.

That time when they got home, Dan had just gone to bed.

The problem after that became that he refused to get up the next morning.

Considering the state he’d been in the previous night, Chris thought maybe Dan just really needed the rest. It was no secret that he was going through something – even if he refused to say what that was exactly. So, for the day, Chris decided to let it go and just leave him be. He’d probably get up in his own time, anyway, even if it was a bit later than the usual rising time of early-afternoon.

That later-than-usual-rising-time turned out to be the entire day, and then suddenly night had come around and then the next morning.

The second morning, Chris thought he should at least try and get Dan out of bed. At first, he tried just talking to him. That didn’t work. Next was shaking him. Still nothing. Chris even tried tugging at the blankets. Ultimately, Dan didn’t really react – didn’t even get angry or upset. That was worrying.

Chris finally received the response of Dan pulling the covers back over him, which was reassuring that at least physically, he was ‘okay’. It did little to quell the distress of why Dan had decided sleeping for two days was a good idea, but it was becoming clear that he just wasn’t going to work with Chris on the matter.

Then the third day rolled around, and Elise was quickly becoming fed up – because sure, Dan had been a lot quieter and out of the way, but it wasn’t exactly ideal for one of the members of their household to be borderline comatose. Talking to Dan about it wasn't exactly an option for her, so she tried talking to Chris about it again. She thought to approach the topic more kindly than she had previously, remembering how upset Chris had gotten last time she’d tried to demand an answer from him about it. She didn’t want to make his position any worse.

The two of them were in the backyard when she brought it up with Chris. “You really don’t know what’s going on with Dan?” She asked, hoping she didn’t sound too concerned.

Apparently, it wasn’t a category Chris was too eager to get involved with either. The tiredness on his face only deepened when he looked at Elise. “He won’t tell me.” He replied dejectedly.

She felt some form of regret about bringing it up, but the longer she left the problem alone, the greater the potential for it to worsen became. Chris was usually at least receptive to talking about feelings, even if it usually wasn’t his own. She thought for a few seconds, wanting to phrase herself delicately, “Well, have you tried talking about it with him again?”

“I have,” Chris started slowly, “but he won’t even acknowledge that I’m speaking to him.”

Seriously? Elise thought that sounded kind of childish. She could gather that Dan seemed reluctant to talk about his problems, but to just stop responding altogether? It didn’t sit right with her. None of the situation did for that matter – and the idea of trying to solve the situation herself was becoming pretty tempting. She cracked her knuckles, looking at Chris with a glint in her eye that meant business, “Want me to try and get him to talk?”

Chris looked at her nervously. He knew what she was capable of, and he wasn’t ready to try and stop a fight between his wife and his boyfriend. The idea was even more exhausting than the last few weeks had been. He moved to grab Elise’s hands, holding them in his own – partially to placate her desire to start a confrontation, and partially for the comfort of it. “I really don’t think that’ll help things.” His tone was earnest.

She glanced down to where his larger hands held hers before meeting his gaze again. The look in his eye made it clear to her that violence wasn’t going to help. But still. “Being nice hasn’t helped either.” She shrugged.

“I know,” He sighed, shoulders sagging, “but usually he’d say something to me, you know? He’s never just. Silent.”

She couldn’t stand him staring at her like a kicked puppy anymore. She pulled him into a hug, stroking the hair at the back of his head affectionately, “I know.” She said warmly, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw, “You’ve just been so worried lately. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

He hugged her back appreciatively, arms securing around her waist, “Thank you.” He leaned his cheek against the top of her hair. The comfort was very welcome, and much more helpful than the offers of violence. Fondness managed to worm its way somewhere between the frustration and anxiety. “I’ll be okay.” He stated, “I just wish I knew what was going on.”

“We’ll figure it out.” She assured.

Neither of them were too sure exactly when that would be, but Chris hoped it’d be sooner rather than later. If, for whatever reason, Dan needed space, Chris would try and let him have it, at least for a little. It was just hard not to worry.

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It hadn’t gotten easier.

The thought of being anywhere was unappealing. Undesirable, because no matter where Dan was, he was still stuck with his own mind. He still had to remember. The drinking. Bottles smashing. The nights of screaming and name calling and "I wish I never had you!" As if he ever had a choice to be born. Some days he wished he wasn't.

He looked back at his life – full of misery and anger and paranoia. Sometimes he still wished he hadn't been born. Maybe Chris would be happier with just a wife, instead of a wife and an emotionally unstable boyfriend. Wishful-thinking.

Why did that fucking therapist have to ask? Divulge? Prod? It was bad enough that Chris asked him questions he didn't want to answer, but at least Chris knew when to stop – usually, at least.

That last visit; opening a can of worms too large for either one of them to even try and remotely contain – whether that 'either one of them' was Dan and Chris, or Dan and Russel; Dan did not know. All he did know was that he was never going back to that whack-job therapist. Sure, Dan had problems, but he had nothing on a guy who pried into people's trauma for a living – a guy who enjoyed delving into the pain of others. Dan bet his brain was a fucking carnival ride for that guy.

You got what you wanted, you heathen. He thought bitterly.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten out of bed for more than going to the bathroom. Last time, Elise had said it’d been a week, but if that were true, wouldn't Chris have tried to force him to get out of the house – even just to go to Burgerphile?

He's probably given up on you too. Just like your mother did. Dan sank lower into the sheets, wondering if he'd disappear if he shrunk small enough. Ha, as if that would ever happen.

"Hey, buddy." It was Chris.

Dan didn't have the energy to even try and give an answer.

"Someone's here to see you." Chris continued, that stupid optimism still in his voice. Dan had no idea how he managed it sometimes.

A recognisable meow sounded from near the doorway, and soon enough the familiar warmth of Mr. Mumbles curled up near where Dan's feet were. He briefly considered moving to pet her, but the world outside the blanket cocoon was just a reminder of the shitty reality he lived in. The one where Chris was stuck with him, because there was no way he chose to keep Dan in his life. It was all a pity-party – a ploy to make sure Dan didn't do anything stupid beyond revenge schemes and petty vengeance; stupid things like —

"It's been two weeks, Dan."

Still no response. A heavier, firmer weight sunk into the mattress near his back. "What happened with Russel when I wasn't there?" Chris asked.

"Don't say his fucking name." There was no heat behind it; no anger.

That was worrying.

"Dan, seriously, what happened?" Chris peeled the sheets ever so slightly off of Dan – enough to comb his fingers through the locks of black hair on the top of his head. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened."

Once more, he received no response. The quiet was almost suffocating. Apart from when Dan was asleep, quiet was not a word used to describe the man – and suddenly two weeks had gone by with barely more than ten words exchanged between him and another human being. Dan usually had so much to say – usually had monologues to recite on how someone had wronged him, or how the world was stupid, or how the human race was doomed. Instead, he was quiet, which had never been a good sign in the past.

Finally, Dan spoke up, voice quiet and timid "...Chris?"

"Yes Dan?"

There was another pause, and Chris didn't know what to expect. However, the question Dan ended up asking was the last thing Chris ever thought he'd hear out of his boyfriend's mouth, and he hoped he'd never hear it again.

"Why do you love me?" Dan's question was heartbreaking, but not as much as the way his voice had cracked up when he'd said it – and fuck, he was crying.

"Hey, hey —" Chris frantically pulled the covers off of Dan and lifted him into a hug – almost crushing Dan's smaller frame with the intensity of how tightly he hugged him. Dan just cried harder.

"Where's this all coming from?" Chris asked worriedly, rubbing circles into Dan's back with his hand.

"My own mother didn't want me, Chris!" Dan shouted. The sound was muffled in Chris's shirt. "Why the fuck would you want me?"

"Hey, listen." Chris shifted so he was cupping Dan's face in his hands – and fuck, he was crying a lot. Chris started wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "No offence, or yeah maybe all the offence to your mum – she was a horrible alcoholic. It's not your fault she didn't have a single good parenting bone in her body."

"Why did she have me then?!" Dan exclaimed, and suddenly he couldn't keep the sobs in. "I didn't ask to be fucking born Chris! Why am I even here?!"

"Shit, don't —" Chris just hugged Dan against himself even tighter than before – ignoring the wheezing, crushed sound he got in response. "I don't know what was wrong with your mum. But Dan," He looked down at him, loosening his grip a little to place a hand on Dan's face, keeping the other secured around his waist to keep him close, "I am so, so glad you're here." Chris pressed a kiss to Dan's forehead. "So fucking glad." He said quietly, pressing more kisses to Dan's face – the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, along his jaw, the corners of his mouth – anywhere he could reach to let Dan know how intensely he was loved.

After a minute or so, Dan seemed to calm down enough to get a grasp of the situation. He pulled away from Chris enough that he could aggressively wipe at his face with his arm, grimacing at the snot and tears that ended up on the skin there. "Gross." He muttered, before sniffing to try and get rid of the rest of the problem. Chris was kind enough to offer a tissue. "I'm sorry, Chris." Dan mumbled.

"You have nothing to apologise for."

Dan managed a small laugh at that. "Sure, you say that now." He finally took the tissue to blow his nose.

Chris looked him over worriedly. "...Are you okay now?"

Dan shrugged, looking at the covers beneath them, "More or less."

It seemed as though he was finally willing to respond. That was a relief in and of itself. "Hey, uh, while I'm here." Chris started awkwardly. Dan glanced at him wearily. "Elise said you need to shower."

As predicted, he received a glare in response.

Chris hoped that he wasn’t about to start an argument. Then again, the likelihood of that seemed pretty low. "It's been two weeks.” He held his ground, expression unwavering, “You need a shower."

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Chris was going to try and get Dan functioning in some capacity – but part of Dan wondered why Elise wouldn’t have been the first to say something about it. To be fair, talking to what was essentially a brick wall was probably exhausting. He scoffed, "I don't hear you complaining."

"I'm just being nice." Chris replied. He gave Dan a second to see if he’d give up and comply. He didn’t take the chance. Chris went on, "I'll make you shower."

Dan narrowed his eyes, "I'd like to see you try."

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Later that day, they ended up going to Burgerphile, more due to Chris’s pestering rather than Dan having any desire to go anywhere that wasn’t to bed. Still, Dan figured it was probably worth getting out of the house if he’d showered anyway. Go out in public while he was somewhat presentable.

He hadn’t bothered to try and hold conversation on the drive there, instead opting to half-listen to the radio, as well as Chris when he’d occasionally chime in with a thought or comment or ‘interesting’ story. He mentioned something about Elise wanting to go on some trip, but the information seemed kind of trivial; unimportant. Dan forgot it was even brought up a few seconds after it had been said.

It felt like no time had passed at all before they were in the Burgerphile parking lot – but to be fair, it felt a little as though the world had passed in a blur. A dream, almost. Surreal, in a way.

Dan wordlessly followed Chris into the building, not focusing on the situation much, beyond how strange it felt to be outside after not leaving the house in a fortnight. That in and of itself was already kind of exhausting, and trying to focus on anything beyond that fact was a bit difficult when so much went on in the outside world.

Eventually, the two of them were sitting at a table with their respective meals. Chris’s food consisted of half the menu, and Dan’s was the usual burger. It tasted blander than usual – and even food sucked all of a sudden? That was disheartening.

Chris had talked to him about a bunch of things that Dan only ever managed to catch snippets of. Sometimes it was hard to pay attention in the first place, but in those last few weeks, listening had felt close to impossible. Seeing Chris so happy to spend time together did do something to make Dan feel a little better. He’d always thought Chris had a nice smile. A nice voice too, for that matter. Dan was just too stubborn to admit it.

Chris had just been relieved that Dan had agreed to leave the house with him – do something that wasn’t ‘sleep for two weeks’. Sure, maybe Dan wasn’t really engaging with him or even eating as much as he should (and when did Dan ever pass up free food?), but it was a start. Just being together. In public. Chris’s company being welcome again.

When Chris had glanced over at Dan on the drive home and saw him looking a little less tired than he had earlier that morning, Chris decided he would do what he could to help cheer Dan up – even if it was only little things.

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Chris seemed to be acting a little too nice, even for his standards.

The following day, Chris had offered to sit through some zombie horror movie for Dan. Chris could never seem to remember the name for it. All he knew was that his partner had a few too many disturbing films on DVD – and what made it worse was that Elise seemed to love them as much as Dan did, and seriously, why didn’t they just watch them together instead of subjecting Chris to them? The fact that they still weren’t fully adjusted to technically being a couple may have played into that a little.

As the movie went on, Chris found himself inching closer and closer to Dan – part of him wishing that it would hurry up and end, and the other part reminding him why he was in that situation in the first place. Eventually, he was holding onto Dan’s hand a little too tight, and was just about ready to give up and call it quits (and hey, 40 minutes of torture was kind of impressive), but then he’d caught a glimpse of a smile on Dan’s face. It was subtle, but it was more of a smile than he’d seen in over a fortnight. It made the rest of the ordeal feel a little more worth it, even if he spent the last part of the movie with his face buried in Dan’s shoulder.

By the end of the movie, Chris felt more like he was being comforted than anything, but Dan wouldn’t have had it any other way. After all, he did get to watch a movie he liked and spend time with his favourite person. He would have done it again, had Chris not been looking a little pale around the edges after the film had ended.

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After a few days, Dan seemed a little more present. Responsive. He definitely wasn’t as alert as he usually was, and any plans that usually existed to gain revenge on those who he perceived as having slighted him were either on hold or suddenly not that important.

Dan had gotten extremely invested in one of Elise’s (overly violent, if you asked Chris) video games. Although neither Dan nor Elise would admit it, they really bonded over trying to kick each other’s asses in games – although, it did often derail into heated arguments about how one of them was totally cheating, which Chris would (sometimes unsuccessfully) try to break up. Still, it was nice to see the two of them getting along, even if it was only short lived.

Sometimes, Chris wondered if things could ever be truly peaceful between the two. He wasn’t overly optimistic, having known Elise for a few years and Dan almost a few decades. Maybe they could prove him wrong.

Chris watched as Dan versed the same boss he’d seen both Dan and Elise beat a few too many times – waiting until the fight finished before speaking up. “Hey, Dan?”

“Yeah?” Dan didn’t bother looking away from the screen, figuring whatever Chris had to say wouldn’t take long.

That wasn’t going to be the case, though. There was still an unspoken question on Chris’s mind – that nagging thought of I still have no idea what happened with Russel. He knew Dan didn’t want to talk about it. Chris knew that he wasn’t having any success with the issue, but he hoped that maybe since Dan was starting to interact with him again – starting to seem present again, that Chris should at least try. He couldn’t be kept in the dark about it forever.

Here goes nothing, I guess. “I know you’ve been kind of down lately.” Chris began. He received a weary stare from Dan – the kind that would usually look more suspicious and irritated if he were his usual self, “But, I’d really like to know what happened in your last session with Russel.”

Chris could see the exact moment Dan’s eyes clouded over – and no no not this again. Please not this again. Chris almost wanted to take the question back.

“What’s there to talk about?” Dan had that weird fogginess to his voice again. The kind he’d had for those two weeks when he’d barely spoken more than a few words to anyone.

“Dan, please.” Chris scooted closer to him; clasping one of Dan’s hands under his own and placing his other hand on his partner’s face. Stay with me here. He didn’t know exactly where Dan’s mind was going when he got that look in his eye – all he knew was that it wasn’t where ‘reality’ was; wasn’t where Chris was.

Dan’s focus was switching from outside to inside to outside and back again. He remembered what happened during that session. He could visualise it; the therapist’s office. The questions. The feeling of helplessness and instability and pain as his thoughts had become flooded with her. Was she violent with you? He still didn’t quite remember everything he’d said to Russel. He just remembered being angry. Scared. Heart beating too fucking fast and on the verge of tears and —

Chris had seen him cry. He had to remember that. Chris had seen him weak, vulnerable. He’d seen a part of Dan that not even Dan wanted to deal with or acknowledge. Chris had seen it. Heard it. Experienced it. He’d been there for that, and he was still there after the fact. Dan hadn’t scared him away.

It finally felt like that clicked in his mind. Chris was still there, and right then, he was staring into Dan’s eyes with a combination of concern and love – two things that wouldn’t be there if he’d been put off by Dan’s emotional baggage or had given up on him. He was there. Fuck. I really do need to trust him.

That helped bring Dan back a little. He used his free hand to grab onto the one Chris was resting on his cheek. The images were still there. The questions. All the goddamn mental blocks that told him that it wasn’t safe to speak on any of it – but when was he ever afraid? The day he’d moved out of his mother's house, he’d decided fear wouldn’t run his life anymore.

Somehow, it didn’t make admitting the truth any less terrifying. He stared at Chris’s chest, not wanting to see the look in his boyfriend’s eyes when he said, “He asked about my mum.”

“O-oh.” That made things click a little more in Chris’s head. Made pieces fall into place. Provided the realisation of that’s why he’d said those things a few days back. Dan’s reluctance to talk about it made more sense. The two had known each other for almost two decades, and during that time, Chris had caught enough of Dan’s home life to know it wasn’t great, even if he never knew all of the details. It was touchy, but that was to be expected. So out of respect, Chris tried not to ask about it – but they’d become a couple, and Chris had to witness first-hand how the memories were tearing Dan apart, and how he still refused to seek help for it.

It broke Chris’s heart, and he wished more than anything that he could say or do something to fix it, but he couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. He stared at Dan worriedly, trying to figure out what to say. “I-I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what for – whether it was the fact that Dan was hurting, or because Chris had maybe somehow inadvertently made it worse. He didn’t know.

Dan shrugged. He didn’t feel like the apology was needed, not from Chris anyway. His boyfriend had only tried to help him, and Dan couldn’t imagine that he made that job very easy. “That’s why you sent me there, right?” He asked weakly, before finally looking up at Chris; mouth pulled into a lacklustre half-smile. “The nightmares?” He already looked tired without bringing the nightmares into it, but suddenly he looked even more so. “They’ve been about her.”

“Shit. That’s…” Chris shifted closer to Dan, resting his hand on the back of Dan’s head and pulling him into a loose hug. “I wish I knew. I—” He still didn’t know what to say; how to react. He felt guilty, for some combination of not knowing what to do or how to help, and for wanting answers so badly when it seemed to hurt Dan just to talk about it. Chris felt lost. “I would have helped – or something.” He was earnest. He needed Dan to know that no matter what – no matter the confusion or pain or dangers of uncharted territory, he was there. He’d do something. For that moment, he pressed a kiss to the top of Dan’s hair in an attempt to comfort him. “Dan, I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know.” Dan spoke quietly – and that quietness was as jarring as it had been when it’d first begun. Chris hoped Dan would become his usual, loud-self soon, even if it could be obnoxious or borderline dangerous at times. Dan just nuzzled into him instead. The familiar warmth was nice. Comforting. Safe. He wrapped an arm around Chris’s middle – gripping onto the back of his shirt. “You, uh – you know I trust you. Don’t you?” He sounded uncertain. Self-conscious almost.

Chris nodded against the side of Dan’s head. “Yes.” He replied softly, even if a distant voice in his head told him not always. Another part of him felt like crying from relief after being told that he was trusted. That was all he’d wanted to know after being together for so long.

Dan took in a slow, purposeful breath. He wanted to try to be honest. Chris was worth the effort, even if Dan couldn’t guarantee the depth of that honesty. He would try. “It’s hard. To talk about.” He confessed, clearing his throat uncomfortably before elaborating, “Her.”

“I know it is.” Chris responded. His grip on Dan tightened protectively, “I just worry about you.”

“I know you do.” Dan said softly. For once, he didn’t feel the urge to dismiss the concern. He just wanted Chris to know that he was heard.

It came across. The trust. The willingness to attempt to meet halfway. Progress; a step forward. Chris shifted enough that he could look at Dan’s face. He had a bittersweet expression as he looked into green eyes; a combination of fondness and concern, “You think you can tell me what else Russel said?” Chris asked tentatively.

Dan actually managed to look remorseful – and that was new. He bit the inside of his cheek nervously. “I’m sorry, Chris.”

It was enough. Chris was relieved that they’d made any progress, and felt a lot better about dropping the issue for a bit. He knew what was going on, in some capacity. Maybe he could support Dan better – know more of what he’d need to do to be there. It was enough. “It’s okay.” Chris smiled at Dan, reassuring and genuine, “Really.”

The relief Dan felt was palpable. He even managed the slightest of appreciative smiles. “Thanks.” He said softly. His hand fell from where it had been gripping into the back of Chris’s shirt, instead coming to rest on his leg – as some kind of subtle indication that Dan was feeling better and that his boyfriend didn’t need to still be so worried.

“Of course.” None of that had even been a question to Chris. If Dan was willing to open up to him; be vulnerable, Chris wasn’t about to turn him away. The ice in Canada would melt before that ever happened, and even if that somehow managed to happen, Chris would still never do that. He gave Dan a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks for trusting me.” He said warmly, “It means a lot.”

Dan looked away from him, unable to hide the light tinge of pink that dusted his cheeks. “Well, you wouldn’t have shut up about it if I didn’t.” He tried to sound annoyed, but the fondness in his voice was unmistakable.

Chris laughed at that, “I guess you have a point.”

.
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Elise was away on one of her jobs that lasted for several days. Chris still wasn’t entirely sure what she did for a living – something with computers, apparently. Some outlandish part of him told him that she worked for some government organisation, but he could never quite pinpoint why he thought that.

While she’d been away, Chris had taken the opportunity to spend more time with Dan. Mostly, Chris was glad that he’d been able to help Dan feel a little better, even if there was still a way to go on that front.

It was late in the evening. The two of them were in bed after a long day, but Chris was pretty sure Dan was still awake. He was breathing too shallow for someone who was asleep, even if he had his eyes closed. Chris had taken the opportunity to just look at him without consequence. After almost a year of dating, Dan would still get weirdly flustered or self-conscious if Chris stared at him for too long, even if Chris would try to say it was because he thought Dan was attractive. Some thought in the back of Dan’s mind refused to believe that; it couldn’t possibly be that, and so being blatantly stared at made him uncomfortable.

Chris always thought Dan looked peaceful when he slept – so the slightly scrunched up expression on his face only made Chris more convinced that Dan was just pretending to sleep. Maybe to avoid conversation. Chris didn’t always know. He did know that he thought Dan had really pretty eyelashes. He had a cute face too for that matter, even if Dan would grumble about how ‘cute’ wasn’t a flattering compliment for a guy. It didn’t matter that Chris couldn’t stop smiling after the one time Dan had said that he looked cute. Not even that had managed to change his mind on the issue.

“I can feel you staring.” Dan mumbled, and yep, he was definitely awake. The sliver of streetlight that made its way through the curtains caught in the green of Dan’s eyes as he opened them a crack, and gave Chris an irritated look. “What do you want?”

Chris hadn’t bothered to stop staring, since Dan had apparently been well aware of what he was doing. “If I tell you, you’ll just tell me to stop.” Chris smiled; a devious glint in his eye.

Dan frowned, “Then stop.”

Chris pouted at him. On rare occasions, he found it amusing to tease Dan – when the risk of being kicked or bitten was relatively low. Having Dan half asleep in bed struck Chris as a one of those times with a lower risk of bodily harm. “You don’t even know what I want.” He pointed out, shuffling closer to his boyfriend.

“Fine.” Although Dan’s eyes were open, he sounded half asleep, “What do you want?”

Chris leaned in closer and gave Dan a kiss. “To tell you you’re cute.” He murmured, that same smile still plastered on his face.

As predicted, Dan made an annoyed sound at the compliment. He didn’t understand why Chris was so insistent on saying he looked ‘cute’. Being vertically-challenged could be annoying enough without his partner giving him the kind of compliments you’d give to a child. Or a small animal. “Fuck off.” He grumbled, half-heartedly pushing at Chris’s chest. He bet he wouldn’t be called ‘cute’ if he were a few inches taller. Maybe then Chris would call him handsome or hot.

“Nope.” Chris just ginned wider and grabbed Dan’s wrists, pulling him into a hug. Dan yelped in surprise as his head bumped into Chris’s chest, but at least it was a good cover-up for the way his heartbeat sped up. Chris kept a hold on Dan’s wrists to prevent him from trying to wriggle away. “You’re not gonna change my mind.”

Dan groaned in frustration, the sound muffled into where he’d managed to worm himself against Chris’s shoulder, “Fine.” He tried to glare, but most of the heat of that was lost since eye-contact wasn’t exactly practical from his vantage-point. “If you insist on saying that, I’ll start telling you how pretty you are.” He threatened.

Instead of being offended like Dan would have hoped, Chris let go of his wrists and snaked his arms around Dan’s middle – hugging him close. “I’d like that a lot, actually.” The delight in his voice was palpable.

“Of course you would.” Dan should have known that wouldn’t work, but he didn’t sound too annoyed about it. If anything, the grin on his face could be heard in his voice.

That was reassuring to Chris. That had been part of his goal, after all – to make Dan feel even a little happy. To be fair, that had been the goal for quite a few weeks, but it was still important; regardless of if the success was fleeting.

However, there was still another issue at hand. Dan still needed to get back into therapy. The problems he was facing weren’t going to disappear on their own, and as much as Chris would love to just drop the topic and leave Dan be, he couldn’t. Not when the man was still clearly suffering.

After a moment of hesitation, Chris decided to try and bring it up. “Uh, Dan?” He started hesitantly.

“What?” Dan wriggled himself back enough to look at Chris. He didn’t bother attempting to untangle from the hold completely, but he knew from Chris’s tone that whatever was about to be said, he wasn't going to like it.

“Do you, uh...” Chris spoke again before trailing off. The hesitation was palpable, especially when his eyes kept darting around as if he couldn’t decide on where or what to focus on. He bit his bottom lip nervously before finally continuing, “Think you’d go back to see Russel?”

There it was. Dan looked at him, unimpressed, “Knew you’d ask that.” There were no nerves or anxiety there, just begrudging acceptance that the topic was unavoidable. He knew it was going to get brought up again, and it was obviously going to keep being brought up, since Chris was apparently so adamant that ‘professional help’ was important. It was as if he didn’t have unaddressed issues of his own – like his compulsive eating.

Chris frowned at him, “You know it’s because I worry.”

That impulse to say ‘I don’t ask you to worry’ cropped up again, but it was easier to squash the thought down when Dan thought back to how much those remarks hurt Chris – how apparently dismissive it came across. Right. People care. Dan really had to stop seeing it as such a hassle, to rely on people. Let them in. It was way harder than anyone gave it credit for. Instead, Dan gave Chris a pitiful, almost vulnerable look, “Do I really have to go back?”

Chris looked down at him sympathetically, rubbing his hand over Dan’s back as he spoke. He hoped the gesture came across as comforting and understanding. “He asked you a difficult question, I get that.” Chris tried to keep his tone light and compassionate as he spoke, “But I don’t think he meant any harm. He just wants to help.”

“You weren’t there.” Dan grumbled.

“I know,” Chris almost sounded apologetic, “but I will be this time. Okay?”

Dan looked up at him, expression somewhere between indignant and hopeful, “But what if he tries to send you out again? You’ll still stay?” He asked the question almost aggressively, as if anything other than a ‘yes’ warranted an argument.

“Of course.” Chris pressed a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

Dan didn’t have the energy to pretend to squirm away like he may have under different circumstances. He just went quiet, thinking very carefully about what his conditions would be for going back – because there would be conditions if he was being forced to do something he didn’t want to do. That at least gave him some leverage in the situation. Some power. Control. “If I went back,” He emphasised the word ‘if’ as much as possible, “You have to be in the room. No matter what.”

“I can do tha—”

“And,” Dan didn’t give Chris the chance to finish. Instead, he looked up at Chris with what could have almost been described as a fiery expression – although the closeness of their faces made it a little hard to see more than Dan’s eyes. “If that ‘therapist’ does use anything against me,” the ‘like I know he will’ was unspoken, but heard nonetheless, “You’re legally obligated to help me kill him.”

Chris was certain that Russel didn’t have any sinister intentions. If the man did have ulterior motives, something would have slipped by then. He would have changed his demeanour much sooner, if past experiences were anything to go by. It wouldn’t come to murder; Chris was fairly confident in that fact, but if promising to help Dan with revenge (even if it wouldn’t happen) was going to be what it took for him to see the therapist again, Chris would agree – if only to put the issue to rest. “Sure, Dan.”

Dan tightened his grip on Chris’s shirt, pulling him closer to make sure he knew that Dan meant business. “You promise?”

“Yes, I promise.” Chris sounded a bit exasperated.

Dan looked him over for a few more scrutinising seconds, wanting to make sure they were on the same page. His expression softened once he determined that Chris was on his side. “Good.” He stated, and then after a moment, added, “I suppose I can try. As long as you’re there the whole time.”

Chris hugged Dan against himself once more, relieved, “I already gave you my word.”

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The psychologist waiting room was an unnervingly familiar sight. Dan had been prepared for it – after all, he had agreed to go back, albeit begrudgingly. However, that fact didn’t quell the flurry of nerves that made his leg bounce anxiously in his seat. Damnit.

As usual, Chris was at the ready to ensure things went smoothly – or at least, as smoothly as they could go when Dan was involved. He’d already placed a reassuring hand on Dan’s arm, and maybe there was something to say about the consistency of that. Predictability. That Chris’s ‘go to’ for comforting someone was physical touch. Dan never thought of himself as someone that was easy to console, but as more time had gone on and he’d gotten more used to Chris’s affection, he found he couldn’t complain about it. It was nice, for one thing.

“It’s going to be okay.” Chris’s words felt weirdly reminiscent of the first time they’d gone to that office, but they existed in a different context that time; one which was laced more with anxiety and dread rather than disgruntled opposition.

There wasn’t anything Dan could think to say to that. Nothing constructive anyway. He was expecting some kind of judgement and ridicule the second they were through that damn therapist’s office doors, sitting down and at the mercy of a man who’d studied the human mind far too long to be considered even remotely ‘normal’. Not that Dan would know anything about what was ‘normal’ anyway.

He fidgeted with his hands for a moment longer, debating in his head whether holding Chris’s hand was a good idea. There was that voice that screamed vulnerability, but he’d already been so much of that lately, and Chris was still there despite that. Supportive. Loving. Dan sighed, sounding almost frustrated as he forcefully grabbed Chris’s hand in his own.

If the grip was a little too tight, Chris didn’t say anything. He was just glad to finally be allowed to be there; be let in.

A familiar man emerged from down the corridor. His calm presence and kind, ageing eyes were unmistakeable, although his passive demeanour did little to soothe the anxiety Dan had been feeling since the appointment was first made.

“Dan?” Russel called from the edge of the waiting room.

Oh god. Dan felt frozen in place. Maybe if time could just stop, he wouldn’t have to go through with the session. He wouldn’t have to talk. He wouldn’t have to open up or do any of the things he was supposed to on some path to ‘getting better’ – and why did Chris get to decide that for him? Therapy wasn’t the only way to deal with trauma, and Dan was pretty sure that talking about what happened only made it worse.

Chris was quick to pick up on the fact that Dan was reluctant to head into the psychologist’s office. He stood up instead, pulling Dan along with him as he made his way over to the therapist.

Before Russel could get a word in, Chris began speaking, “Hi Russel,” He started politely, “I know you’ve been wanting to talk to Dan alone, but I really think it’d be a good idea if I was there too.”

Russel took a moment to glance between the two of them uncertainly, “I’m not so sure that’d be in Dan’s best interest.”

“It will be.” Chris had a steely look in his eyes, tightening his grip on Dan’s hand. He wasn’t about to leave room for argument; he had promised Dan that much, at least – to be in the room with him. Be supportive. He wasn’t about to give any leeway that’d allow his boyfriend to even try and say that they had to uphold the ‘murder’ agreement. Chris didn’t have a doubt in his mind that the psychologist was a nice, agreeable man, regardless of what may or may not have happened in the last session.

Once more, Russel studied the both of them. He was quick to pick up that there was something ‘off’ about Dan. He didn’t have the same vibrant, angry energy as usual – and the subtle, clingy way he huddled into Chris didn’t go unnoticed either. At the very least, odds were that he wouldn’t be as argumentative as he had been previously. More importantly than that, it seemed like the company of another person might have actually been needed. Russel wasn’t about to deny someone support when they needed it. “Sure.” He complied, “Let’s head back, then.”

A minute or so later, they were all seated in the room and Russel was able to begin – pen and notebook at the ready. “So, what’s been happening since you last came here, Dan?” He asked.

Dan was reluctant to answer. He hadn’t looked up from the ground once since leaving the waiting room, and he’d yet to let go of Chris’s hand, even as they sat in separate chairs. After a moment of silence, and an encouraging hand-squeeze from Chris, Dan tried to answer the question. “Not much.” He shrugged half-heartedly.

There was still some scepticism from Russel about the decision to have Chris in the room, and he was beginning to think that it may have been a bad idea. He pushed the thought aside, and decided to give it another try first. He changed the topic, asking a different question, “Well, you had seemed adamant about not returning after your last session.” Russel started, “Did something change?”

Surprisingly, he received an answer that was more than two words – although Dan didn’t sound too pleased to give up the information. “Chris made me come back.”

It was undeniable that something was wrong. Usually, Dan would have tried to start a verbal fight with him first question in. Quiet half-compliance was unexpected. Unusual. “I see.” Russel responded, “And how have you been feeling?”

“Just peachy.” Dan grumbled. The frustration and tiredness on his face spoke of anything but ‘peachy’, although that much had been obvious.

“Hey, come on.” It was Chris. He leaned into Dan to speak softly, “Nothing you say here will be anything I don’t know.” He drew a little closer after that so he could whisper without the risk of being overheard, “And I did agree to help with murder, assuming Russel is out to get you.” He really didn’t want the therapist to hear that line – whether for his own sake or for his boyfriend’s, Chris wasn’t sure. His main goal was to be reassuring; help Dan open up. “Either way, you’re safe.” He said sincerely.

Dan finally looked up at Chris – immediately seeing that overly considerate look in his eyes. It was the kind of look that usually annoyed Dan, but he was slowly coming around to the idea that compassion wasn’t such a bad thing. Not from Chris, anyway. He looked at the therapist next, who simply stared back at him with an open, unassuming expression.

Guess it’s worth a shot. “That question you asked.” Dan started slow. Hesitant. He still didn’t want to have the conversation – was still dreading it, but he would try. “I can’t stop thinking about it.” Her. A part of his mind bitterly reminded him. He gritted his teeth at the thought in an attempt to forget.

Russel took a second to digest what he was being told. He jotted down notes, taking time to consider the connections between the new and previous information he’d been provided. After a moment, he glanced back up at Dan. “Your mother?” He inquired gently.

“Yes.” It was uncomfortable for Dan to admit that. It almost sparked the impulse to get angry, but instead, he glanced up at Russel to gauge the man’s reaction to his honesty. The therapist just stared back at him passively; calm and nonthreatening as always. Dan still didn’t have a reason to think Russel would try anything against him, which was partially frustrating when it meant he still had to uphold his promise to meet the guy halfway.

So, against what Dan would call his ‘better judgement’, he elaborated. “She was horrible. I can’t begin to put that into words.” He didn’t need to state who that was. Wouldn’t have, either. The topic was hard enough to speak on in itself. He grimaced uncomfortably, “I don’t like to think about her. I don’t. Think about her.”

“I see.” Russel jotted down some notes. Maybe Chris had been onto something by being so insistent that he be in the room. Russel couldn’t help but wonder what had happened since the last appointment that they’d had. He’d circle back to it, though. Instead, he asked, “And so how did it make you feel to think about her?”

Oh god oh god oh god. Dan wanted to stop, backpedal. Change the subject. The instinct to react and yell pulsed through him, but it was suppressed by the overwhelming desolate numbness that had been coursing through him for the past few weeks. You have to try. Promises were annoying.

“Shit.” Dan laughed as he said that – something quiet and broken. He looked at Russel accusingly, “I slept for two weeks because of you.” Blame. Annoyance. Those were always easier to express. Safer, too.

An expression that could almost be described as remorseful crossed Russel’s face. “I apologise for that.” Despite the look of almost guilt, his words sounded more like a formality than an actual apology. He managed to sound more genuine as he continued, though, “But I appreciate you telling me the truth.”

That… wasn’t expected. The shock on Dan’s face was palpable. He’d been half anticipating Russel to use his honesty against him. Mock him. Taunt him. Instead, Russel had that sickeningly kind look in his eyes, and there was a weird sense of pride there too – as if he were proud of Dan for talking to him. That kind of celebration of feelings was incredibly foreign to Dan.

“Whatever.” Dan drummed his fingers on his leg, something to distract from the conversation. “Just, undo it.” He added as an afterthought. If Russel was going to be weirdly cooperative, maybe he’d even agree to get rid of whatever uncomfortable despondency he was making Dan experience.

Instead of doing any of that, Russel just gave him a puzzled, almost concerned look. “That’s… not exactly how it works.” He sounded mildly apologetic that time. At least, more so than when he’d actually apologised.

That hadn’t been expected either. Weren’t therapists supposed to be able to fix things? Wasn’t that the whole point of Chris dragging him there? A dark expression formed in Dan’s eye. “What?” He was beginning to feel ready to attack a man.

Before Chris could try and jump in to calm him down, Russel elaborated on his statement. “It’s a process.” He stated, “A combination of working together to address and manage stress. I can definitely help you,” he emphasised, “It just takes time and effort.”

Right. A process. Nothing was instant in life. Dan should have realised that, but maybe he’d actually been hopeful about something. That was the psychologist’s whole game, wasn’t it? To draw people in under the pretence of being able to fix their problems, only to rope them into hours and hours and years of sessions, and—

Chris was giving him that look again. The one that said he trusted the situation whole-heartedly, and Dan didn’t get it. He didn’t get how Chris trusted in something that only made Dan feel worse about himself – and hadn’t Chris said something about how ‘things get worse before they get better’? Is that what he’d meant by it?

Talking about it didn’t help, plain and simple. If it did, then Dan would be cured – but, right. Years of abuse. That was a thing. Not just some one-off bullshit where screaming and blowing off steam fixed the problem. It’s not supposed to be easy to talk about. Did Dan actually listen to the nonsense Chris told him about ‘mental health’? Or, whatever it was.

Russel hadn’t ridiculed him at least. Neither had Chris, but Chris didn’t ridicule him in the first place. Dan wouldn’t deny seeing the toll his issues had taken on Chris. The fatigue.

He could make it through the session. It wouldn’t kill him. “Of course it does.” He rolled his eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. He’d make it through the session. He could do that much; make progress.