Work Text:
"It's okay to take antidepressants."
He faux reassurance feels like an attack.
And I am pinned in a pincer movement by the enemy.
Low on morale, on food, on water, and his feigned assitance feels like blasphemy.
My need to appear normal at all costs has turned double agent and it spreads word of my failure for all to hear and for him to lay out in front of me.
One by one, every line of defence I have deserts until it's just me. Beaten down, washed out and just so tired. I consider begging for mercy but I don't know what kind he could offer. He can't save me from myself.
I watch provisions trucks line up filled with people who support his cause.
The area manager. His partner. His friends. My friends. My partner.
And I am bunkered down, drowning in a mud-filled trench, watching as he cradles my ability for recovery in his hands.
Watching as he crushes it.