Work Text:
STEP 1:
DON'T NOTICE YOUR SON IS STRUGGLING UNTIL HE SHOOTS HIMSELF.
Your husband tells you it was just a show of dramatics, a stunt to get him out of military school, but surely it's more than that. Surely your son would've talked to both of you if that was all it was, but then, didn't he try to talk to you? Didn't his father refuse to listen? Didn't his mother sit there and watch, silently? You should've done more, you know it, you should've done more.
You visit him in the hospital, as often as you possibly can, and try to be strong for him. You fail, most of the time. You hold your son and cry, and he comforts you, and you feel terrible for it. He shouldn't be the one making you feel better, it should be the other way around. When did he grow up? How did you let him grow up this quickly? You wonder when you stopped knowing everything about your son, and just how much you don't know about him now.
STEP 2:
AGREE WITH YOUR HUSBAND TO SEND HIM BACK TO SCHOOL.
This one shouldn't really be any surprise, should it? You always agree with your husband. Even when it feels dreadfully, horribly wrong, even if you want to take your son home and hold him in your arms and watch over him. If your husband thinks it's best, than it's best, right?
After all, this way, he won't miss too much school, and school is important. Sometimes, you think it seems almost too important in this family, but it's all for Neil, isn't it? So he can have the opportunities you and your husband never did, so he can be the best of the best, and rise above both of you.
The thought crosses your mind, of course, that he may not want to be the best of the best, that he's practically still a child, but you shake the idea away. Tom knows best, he always has. (You don't know when you started blindly believing that, but it has to be true, right?)
The next few months, you live off of your husband's descriptions of his conversations with Neil. Once or twice- quite a few times, actually- you debate calling him yourself, just to hear his voice, just to make sure he's really doing okay (not that you don't trust your husband, of course, but just in case-), but he shuts you down quickly. Neil doesn't need to be distracted, he tells you.
He's right, of course. He's always right.
So, you sit tight, and wait. Spring break is coming up, after all, and you'll be able to see him then. You'll see that he's doing perfectly fine, and you won't have to worry anymore. It's only a matter of being patient, now.
STEP 3:
STAND UP TO YOUR HUSBAND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YEARS.
They're fighting. Really fighting. It's awful, you think, just terrible (mostly because you know you should be stepping in, but you just can't bring yourself to).
"You are fine," Your husband says.
"I tried to shoot myself!" Neil yells, and you only know you've let out a gasp because you hear it. You feel the ground sinking beneath you, and desperately force yourself to keep standing, because this isn't about you. It's about Neil, and he needs you now, and what kind of a mother is so busy playing dollhouse that she misses the moment her son in unable to keep playing along?
"You need to stop being ridiculous."
Neil's face grows even angrier, and you realize he looks like his father when he's mad, and the thought worries you. "You know that's what happened. I don't care what you told the hospital, or the teachers- you know. Are you seriously going to keep denying it?"
"I don't care what-"
"Well, when are you going to start caring? Next time? When I don't miss? When the ambulance doesn't come in time? When I actually die?"
The word snaps you out of your thoughts, and you reach out to hold his hand, trying to reassure yourself that he's still there. "Darling," You say pathetically, "Please-"
"I cannot control myself," Neil exclaims. "I-I'm fucked in the head, alright? I don't think I can trust myself anymore, not without some kind of help. I'm going to end up bleeding out in a bathtub, whether I want to or not! I am fighting every bone in my body right now, asking for help, because I'm terrified to change the way I live! I'm terrified I'm going to have to stop doing all these things I've been doing. But I'm even more afraid of what's going to happen if I don't!"
Your throat is dry. You can barely make yourself whisper. "Neil..."
He opens his mouth, and you expect his father's rage, but when he speaks again, it's worse- it's his mother's shame. "I know you want me to suck it up and pretend I'm fine, and I- I've been trying to. I've tried for years to. I WANT to. But I can't- I can't do this anymore..." Neil tilts his head down, and sobs.
Your husband begins to respond, and before you can decide what to do, the feeling overtakes you. You're pissed. You're really, really, fucking pissed. Neil- your son, your baby- is crying, and you don't know what your husband is about to say, but you will NOT let him make your child cry anymore.
"Stop, Tom."
"Eleanor-"
For the first time in what feels like ages, you ignore him completely, and rush over to Neil, hugging him as tight as you can without hurting him, and he curls into you, and he cries, and a feeling of ShameGriefRegretRageRageSorrowGuiltLove takes over you, and you think to yourself that if you were allowed to rule the world, you would make sure that Neil never, ever feels the need to cry again.
You move your gaze from Neil, just for a moment, and fix Tom with a look that demands attention. "Look at him, Tom. Stop yelling for two seconds and look at our son." (MY son, you think to yourself, protectiveness raging inside your heart with the threat to destroy everything in its path and stop Tom, who is sitting there silently, the bastard-) But this isn't about him. He will NOT make this about himself like he makes everything else.
Gently, with as much care as you can possibly fit into it, you put a hand on Neil's shoulder. He looks up at you, and you see something you haven't seen from him in years: trust. He trusts you to take care of him, and silently, you make a promise to not let him down.
"Go upstairs, sweetheart," You say softly. "Your father and I need to talk, alright? Just go calm down."
His eyes bare into yours, searching for something you can't place, and without another word, he goes.
The minute Neil's gone, he turns to you. "He isn't depressed," Tom says insistently, and you resist the urge to throttle him.
"Fine! Then forget the label and look at the symptoms! He's falling behind in his schoolwork-"
"Laziness-"
"He's dropped all his old hobbies-"
"He's focusing on his future-"
"He doesn't sleep-"
"He must've had caffeine-"
"Nothing makes him excited anymore-"
"He's maturing-"
"He talks about himself like he's worthless!"
"He holds himself to a high standard!"
"For God's sake, Tom!" You slam your hands on the table, startling both of you. "You are the single most stubborn man I have ever met in my life! You can afford to send him to a private boarding school and give him college-level reading material and hire tutors, but you can't set aside a couple hundred for him to talk to a doctor once a month?!"
"I am not going to waste time and money so that some quack can insult my parenting-"
"It would be a trained professional, which means that if she says ANYTHING about the way you raised him, it's because it's the truth."
He scoffs indignantly. "And I suppose you think you'd be exempt from this? You don't think they would end up blaming you?"
You lift your chin. "I don't care what they say to him. As long as it helps him out of this."
"And I'm sure you'd still feel that way after he turns on you," Tom says, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"This isn't about us," You exclaim, "And it certainly isn't about whether or not Neil 'sides with' us! We should be on HIS side, Tom! That's our job!"
"Don't you act like this is all my fault."
"I'm not. But we BOTH need to take responsibility."
"It won't help," He states.
"How can you possibly know that if you won't even let him try?"
He looks you up and down. Rolls his eyes. Steps back.
"Fine. Do it, then. But it really won't help, Eleanor."
He walks away, and you don't try to argue anymore. The important thing is taken care of, and the fight has already left you. You wonder if you'll be able to stand up to him again.
You sit and smoke for a few minutes before you go up to talk to Neil again.
STEP 4:
MAKE PROMISES.
When you head upstairs, Neil's clearly still upset, but he meets your eye with an expecting, grim-sort-of look. It hits you that he's probably waiting to hear you say something along the lines of, "Your father said no, and your father knows best, so sorry about that." You can't even blame him, really. It's not like you've given him much of a reason to expect otherwise.
You take a seat beside him, looking him over carefully. He looks terribly tired, the sort of exhaustion that takes over your entire body and makes you feel like you're sinking. (It's the sort of exhaustion she's very familiar with.)
"Your father and I talked things over," You say. "We think therapy is a very good idea for you."
He doesn't bother to hide the disbelief, voice still hoarse. "What?"
"Well, your father doesn't," You admit. "But I do. I think it's very important. And I made sure he's going to go along with it, alright?"
Neil looks as if he doesn't understand, and you take his hand, forcing yourself to speak. You're so tired, but he needs to hear this. He's gone long enough without it.
"Neil... Baby, I..." You stop and start again. "I'm so proud of you for doing this. For finding out what you need, and telling us. And... And I'm so sorry you had to." You cup his cheek, sadness overcoming you. "You shouldn't have had to do this alone. You never should've. And I'm so sorry I never stood up for you earlier. I- I've made a lot of mistakes with you, baby."
Neil looks as if he's about to protest, so you shake your head, refusing to let him make excuses for you.
"No, I have. I know I have." You look at him. "You know, you- you remind me so much of me when I was your age. And I... I had such a hard time growing up. I think I was scared of that. I didn't want you to have to go through everything I went through, and I thought if we could nip it all in the bud..."
You chuckle grimly, and wish you could go back in time and hit yourself.
"But I've just made everything worse, haven't I? You're stronger and braver than I ever was, sweetheart. Your father and I, we've put you through so much... But look at you. You're still trying. I- I was never able to do that. You know, I... I gave up on trying to feel better. I thought it was just something I'd have to live with." You shake your head. This isn't about you. "But Neil, darling..."
You feel yourself start crying, and lift a hand to wipe the tears away. This isn't about you.
"You deserve so much better than that, my love. You deserve better than living. You deserve to thrive. I want you to have everything your father and I never did. I want you to be happy. So, we'll do the therapy. Therapy, medication, a break from school... It doesn't matter to me. Whatever it's gonna take to make you happy, baby. Whatever it takes. It's worth it for you, you understand me?" You look at him carefully, determined to make sure he's listening. "You are worth it."
Slowly, you pull him into a hug, and Neil practically weeps, and silently, you make a promise that you're going to be there.
You have to be.
STEP 5:
BREAK THEM.
You hear from Neil a few times once he goes back to school. He sounds better, certainly, and you're very, very glad for him. Things with Tom have been difficult, but it's worth it to hear Neil happy. He's starting to bloom as you start to wilt, but maybe that's what parents do. Besides, things will work out. He's still your husband, after all, and you still love him.
You're just happy to see Neil getting on track again. His grades are beginning to look up. Soon, he'll be on his way to Harvard, majoring in medicine with a minor in theatre. The perfect blend of your son's and your husband's wishes.
But, it appears, he has something else in mind. He wants to change everything.
And-
He wants you to help.
You promised you'd be there, and you will be... Next time. You swear.
"I'm sorry, baby, I really am. But I just don't think there's anything I could do... If you think getting away from your father is best, I won't stop you, but I don't think I'll be of much use."
"Okay," Neil says, sounding disappointed, but not surprised.
"Neil, sweetheart... I know it's hard to believe, but your father really does love you," You say placatingly. Maybe if you can calm him down... Maybe you can all avoid another fight. "He tries his best to do what's right for you, you know. I think if you just gave him another chance-"
"I love you, Mom, but I'm going to hang up if you finish that sentence."
Your mouth clicks shut.
"I just... Why do you keep defending him? You need to get away from him as much as I do."
You hesitate before speaking. "It's more complicated than you think, sweetheart."
"You could come with me," Neil murmurs, suddenly sounding fiercely protective. "You could leave him, and we'd find some place where he'd leave us both alone."
"You're sweet. But I couldn't leave him like that. He's my husband." That's what you've been telling yourself for years, isn't it? 'He's your husband.' As if that can excuse anything and fix everything. He's your husband-
"And I'm your son," Neil retorts. "Why can't that be important too? Why can't I be important?"
"You are," You say hurriedly. "It's just..." You trail off. "It's complicated."
"Okay," Neil says, after a moment. "I... I have to go." You know he doesn't. "There's a teacher telling me to hang up." You're sure no one is there. "I'll call you tomorrow." He definitely won't. "I love you." You don't deserve it, but you hope and pray that he does.
"Oh," You say quietly, trying to swallow your disappointment. "I'll talk to you later, then. l love you too."
"Yeah. Bye, Mom."
He hangs up.
You sit there, phone still clutched in your hand.
STEP 6:
HAVE A HEART ATTACK.
You don't know what happened, really. You suppose your age, smoking habits, and overall stress don't help. Regardless, you find yourself in the hospital. Your husband is there the whole time, snapping at doctors who don't deserve it and asking you questions you don't have the answer to. You know it's his way of showing concern, but it's not as endearing as it was when you first met.
Now, it's just exhausting.
You ask your husband not to tell Neil. It's his birthday in a few days. He doesn't need something new to worry about. Besides, it doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter.
STEP 7:
BREAK YOUR SON'S HEART EVEN MORE.
You look up towards the opening door. "Neil?"
"Hi," He says quietly. "Where's Father?"
"At home. I told him to get some rest."
"Oh."
You blink at him, waiting. He says nothing. Slowly, careful not to pull the tube from your hand, you sit up. "Sweetheart, what are you doing here?"
Neil looks confused. "I... I came to see you."
"Yes, but aren't you missing school?"
He blinks. "Yeah... But. You're in the hospital, Mom."
You nod slowly.
"You didn't tell me," Neil says, sounding lost.
You can feel yourself grow defensive. "I didn't want you to worry. I mean, your exams are coming up, and..."
"Did Father say all of this to you?" He asks desperately. "Or tell you to say this? I- you know I don't care about school, right? I care about you."
"Honey, it was just a heart attack," You say, mildly confused as to why it matters. "You didn't have to come all this way... I mean, did you come all by yourself? That's dangerous, you shouldn't-"
"My friend came with me," Neil says dismissively. "But I- You're in the hospital," He says again, as if you'll hear him correctly this time. "Why didn't you tell me? What are the doctors saying? They- No one would tell me anything."
"Neil, calm down."
"And don't say it's just a heart attack, Mom! I mean, God, that's- that's not-"
"Neil," You try to soothe, "I'm alright. I'll be out Tuesday."
This only makes him more upset. "But you just got here! That's not safe!"
"We can't afford for me to stay here, Neil," You try to explain. "But I'm going to be fine, alright? I'm going to check myself out and-"
Neil keeps talking. "No, that's not- Were you ever going to tell me? I'm your son, I deserve to know. And I can help make up the money, I know I can. Why didn't you TELL me? If Father made you keep quiet, I swear to God-"
"Neil," You say quietly, but louder than you're sure he's ever heard you. "It was my decision. Your father wanted to tell you, but I asked him not to."
He shakes his head. "Why would you..."
"You shouldn't be worrying about me." Unspoken: You've worried enough about me. Leave me behind. Leave your father behind. We're both drowning, and you need to get out before we drag you down too. There's still time. Don't end up like me. "Go back to school, honey. You've already missed enough."
Neil shakes his head, becoming upset. "Why is school all you two care about?" Oh no. No, he's got the wrong idea completely. "You're- you're supposed to be different."
"Honey-"
"I..." Neil shoves his hands into his pockets, clearly trying to calm the sea of emotions rushing through him.
"Neil..." You search for something to say. How have you messed up again? How do you keep messing up? You're messing him up, you just know it.
"I should go," He says finally, bolting out the door before you can reply.
STEP 8:
PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.
You try to phone Neil while he's in the hospital ward.
They say he doesn't want to accept calls yet.
You wait.
Never let it be said that you're not patient.
Unlike Tom.
He tries to phone.
You slap the phone out of his hand.
STEP 9:
GET A JOB AT THAT FLOWER SHOP YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO WORK AT.
Your husband- Tom- always told you not to, for one reason or another. You had to stay and look after him, and then your son, and then Tom again, but your son has been taking care of himself for years, and it's about time Tom learned how to do the same.
Dahlia is more than happy to hire you, of course. You've always been close friends. (She's always told you she doesn't like Tom, but when you tell her your decision, she's kind enough to not say anything other than 'congratulations'.)
You take the money you've been saving up for years, the money you never told Tom about, the money that used to go to play tickets with your son when his father was away on business- and really, shouldn't that have been the first sign? Shouldn't you have been allowed to take your son to a show without upsetting your husband? You've been blind for so long, and you have so many regrets, and you're certain that if you think about it any longer you'll burst at the seams, so you don't.
You just don't.
You take that money, and buy yourself a cheap, humble apartment with one widow that overlooks a set of trashcans, and you feel free as a bird. No, not a bird. You finally feel like your own person. You're not a daughter, or a wife, or a mother, even. Your life is not defined by a man. You are a woman, with an apartment on Greene Street, and a job at Dahlia's, and yes, a son, one that you are going to spoil with every cent you earn.
You move your things while Tom is out, then come back and wait for him to get home. When he does, you tell him quite plainly that you're done and ask him to sign the divorce papers. He refuses, and you tell him that quite frankly, you don't actually give a shit if it's in writing or not, because the point is that government-official or not, you will never be with his ass again.
It's your first time cursing in a long time, without having to worry about acting ladylike, and it feels very thrilling. You decide that when you get back home (oh, home, isn't that a nice sentiment?) you will scream as many curse words as you can. You worry this will frighten the neighbors, and decide you'll bake something for them and introduce yourself. Yes, that will be nice, you'll do that, and then you'll scream as many curse words as you know.
You imagine what your son would think of it, and can practically see his shocked laughter, and it's such a lovely thought that you end up laughing yourself.
You sit yourself down, and make a list of all the things you need to do, and for once, it doesn't feel like a list of daunting chores. It feels like- oh, how would Neil put it? How would you put it? It feels like quests on an adventure. It sounds very silly, and very childish, and no one's there to stop you from enjoying it.
STEP 10:
INVITE YOUR SON AND HIS FRIENDS OVER.
Neil brings his friends over in late June. It's quite crowded in the apartment, but none of them seem to mind. You realize that however many times you've heard their names, you really only recognize Charlie and Knox.
They're all delightful, of course, and seem to like you well enough too. He introduces a lovely pair of girls that have you giving your son a curious look, before you realize that they're seemingly more taken with each other.
Your son, too, is enamored with a boy named Todd, who you only remember bits and pieces of. You know that he's your Neil's roommate, and that he visited him in the hospital almost-constantly, and that Neil has his poetry taped all over the inside of the closet that Tom never opens.
You think of old school friends, and the shame-ridden boy in the back of your freshman english class, who came back in junior year as a confident young woman that you became very close friends with. Suddenly, you wonder how she's doing. You wonder why you stopped writing to her, and remember worrying what Tom thought, and feel terrible.
You hug your son as tightly as you possibly can, and give his roommate a soft smile, and watch them both relax, just the slightest bit. You wonder if it's 17 years too late to be a mother.
You see the way he looks at you, and you decide that it's not.