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Mattholomule knew he wasn’t the smartest of the bunch. He wasn’t as good at magic as Gus, or as knowledgeable as Willow, or as curious as Luz, or as adaptable as Amity. But he still thought he was powerful, strong enough to get good grades with his magic. And although he was better with hands on, he still thought he was smart enough to get passing grades in anything other subjects.
But now, as he stared at the paper in front of him, Matt realized he may have been very, very wrong.
Matt tried thinking about what he had studied. He had studied with Gus, going over formulas and reviewing flashcards until they both thought they were ready to ace their next exam.
He tried pulling up memories from what he had learned, but all that came up were blurs of white in his mind, answers foggy and unclear.
He sighed, running his fingers through his hair and tapping pencil against the desk. What was it, what was it…?
Another breath in. Another breath out. He could do this.
He looked back down at the paper, narrowing his eyes. He flipped it, front and back, answering a few he knew the answers to. It doesn’t even have that many questions, Matt thought as he glared disdainfully at the page in front of him.
He decided to focus on one question at a time. That would help him, he knew. Focus on one thing, and he could concentrate better, instead of having his brain flick from problem to problem and never land in one place.
He chose problem five. It seemed reasonable enough. He stared at the paper, trying to make sense of the numbers in front of him.
He moved his pencils multiple times, making lines across the paper that made sense to nobody but himself. His brain didn’t seem to corporate, turning everything in front of him into a blurry mess, his mind feeling like static.
Matt took another deep breath in, which turned into another five as he realized he was hiccupping, tears already building up behind his eyes.
Matt shook his head, willing the fogginess and tears away, but they didn’t stop. Matt hid his face behind his bangs, trying to mask his sniffling with the scrape of a pencil against paper.
He flipped the paper over again, eyes scanning the contents before he turned back to the front.
He felt his chest constrict, and suddenly the spacious classroom seemed to be too small, too suffocating. He was surrounded by nothing and everything all at once, his surroundings turning into nothing but white noise.
His eye’s burned, throat feelings tight as he tried to hold back the tears, hold them back until he could think about the problem dammit.
He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, but they didn’t stop. He buried his fingers in his hair, yanking slightly as he hid his head. He took more breaths, but they were shaky and uneven.
He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t think. Everything around him was loud and quiet and the paper in front of him was taunting, telling him he couldn’t do it, and his gut told him he couldn’t do it, and he—
He needed to leave.
His hand shot up, and without waiting for the teacher to notice, he said, “Can I go to the bathroom?” He was surprised and proud of himself for keeping his voice from cracking.
The teacher nodded, and Matt jumped out of his seat, the chair hitting the wall behind him. He flew out the door, feeling the eyes of the other students on his back.
He sped walked, already feeling more tears building behind his eyes. He knew they probably looked red and puffy, but he refused to cry in the middle of the hallway.
Students still roamed the halls, and Matt pulled his hood up, averting his eyes and putting his head down as other students passed.
Fuck, he thought, tears starting to trail down his cheeks. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He wiped at his face furiously, finally entering the boy’s bathroom and running into the biggest stall, the tears flowing down his face freely now. Matt sniffled again, leaning against the wall.
He sat, not caring about how dirty the floor would be, and buried his face in his arms, crying quietly, except for the occasional sniffle and hiccup.
Why was he upset over this? He shouldn’t be, it was a dumb quiz, something that was just equations on paper to test if you knew the things they had taught.
And that was the thing, wasn’t it? Matt thought he knew it all. He studied relentlessly, and even listened to Gus when he said they should go to bed at a reasonable time, and not stay up too late studying. When he entered the class, he thought he had it in the bag. He was going to ace it!
But the second the horrid thing was laid out in front of him, all the information in his brain decided that moment to leave.
Matt knew he still knew the answers. They were buried somewhere in his mind, beneath the deep fog that was covering his brain. If he could focus, move the fog bit by bit, focus on what he was doing…
But he couldn’t, the fog in his brain impenetrable, only fueled by Matt’s thoughts.
Matt didn’t know how much longer he spent in there. It could’ve been minutes, could’ve been hours. He wouldn’t have heard the school bell if it rang, he knew, too caught up in the mess of his own mind. Swirling and bubbling and whispering.
The fogginess kept multiplying, and he couldn’t push back and couldn’t stop the way his brain was rolling, twisting. Couldn’t keep the bad thoughts out, even as he tightened his hood on his head.
“Matty?” a voice interrupted the swirl of thoughts in his mind, poking through like a needle and imbedding itself, keeping the fog parted long enough for him to focus, just a bit. “Are you in here?”
Matt was tempted to say “yes, I’m here, help me,” but he couldn’t. He couldn’t speak without his voice cracking, and it was embarrassing and he didn’t—he didn’t want…
Did he?
“Matt?” the voice said again, louder and closer this time. Matt tried not to make a sound, but he had to sniffle, to do something because tears were flooding his eyes again and they wouldn’t stop why weren’t they stopping— “Matty?”
Then the stall door opened, and there stood Augustus Porter in all his glory. The one he had studied with, the one who told him he would do great and look where he was now.
They stared at each other for a moment, and Matt was aware of the way his eyes were probably very red, the cold tear tracks on his face and the fresh, warm tears still making their way down. His head hurt, even more so than before, and thoughts started filling his mind of he hates me he’s disappointed he—
And then Gus was in front of him, pulling Matt to his chest and holding on tightly. Matt stiffened, until he wrapped his arms around Gus, letting out another loud sob.
Gus tightened his hold, then slowly lowered Matt’s hood to card his fingers through Matt’s hair. Matt sniffled again, and he was aware he was probably getting Gus’s uniform soaked with snot and tears, but at this point he frankly didn’t care.
Gus slid Matt’s hood off, carding his fingers through Matt’s hair softly, and Matt just held on tighter, balling the back of Gus’s uniform in his fists.
Matt didn’t know how long he stayed there, sniffling and crying into Gus’s cape, but he knew it was better than being alone. Eventually, his sobs reduced to soft sniffles, and he slowly pulled away from Gus.
“I’m sorry,” he sniffled, pulling away completely. “I—I don’t know what happened I—”
“Matty,” Gus said, putting his hand on Matt’s arm. Matt supposed the touch would’ve been uncomfortable if it were anyone else doing it, but it was Gus. “Are you okay?”
And that was the million-dollar question wasn’t it? Because Matt supposed the answer was quite obvious. And he knew Gus knew that too.
He was tempted to lie this time. To say he was fine, that this was a small blip. But the way Gus was looking at him told Matt he wouldn’t believe that.
“I just can’t,” he murmured, and this time his voice did crack, and Matt shut his eyes, waiting for something, anything to happen.
“Can’t what, Matt? Was it class?”
Matt couldn’t bring himself to speak again, so he just nodded.
Matt heard the rustling of a cape, and Gus’s hand was removed from his shoulder. Matt blinked his eyes open, not wanting Gus to leave, but he wasn’t gone.
Gus was holding something in his hands, and when Matt took a closer look, he realized it was a mini-Gus. Matt sent Gus a confused look, but Gus just grinned back.
Then mini-Gus started dancing. It was ridiculous, so ridiculous, but it made Matt bark a laugh anyway. Then even more mini-Gus’s appeared, standing in a line and doing rockettes.
Matt laughed at them, and he heard Gus chuckle along. Then most of the illusions disappeared, except one of them. Casting another spell circle, another illusion appeared, this one slightly smaller. It took Matt a second to realize it was him.
The mini-Gus grabbed mini-Mattholomule’s hands, and they danced around the bathroom. Mini-Matt pushed mini-Gus sometimes, but mini-Gus pushed right back. Matt laughed, staring at the little illusions in front of him. He always loved seeing Gus’s magic, especially after the graveyard.
Not that he would ever tell Gus. Though he suspected he already knew.
“So,” Gus said, and Matt looked over at him, prying his eyes away from the two illusions, who had gone from dancing to fighting to doing ridiculous dances again. (Matt suspected the human had something to do with a few of them).
Gus reached out, his hand going to cup Matt’s cheek and wipe of his tears. “Do you want to talk about it? It’s okay not to, but I want you to know… I’m here.”
Matt stared at Gus for a moment, before nodding slowly. He looked down at his hands, thinking. What was he supposed to tell Gus? That he broke down in the middle of class because his work was stressful? Because he couldn’t understand? That in retrospect, it all seemed so… Dramatic?
Gus slowly started to pull his hand away, but Matt grabbed his wrist, keeping the hand there. Gus seemed to startle, but smiled something soft, and continued to wipe off Matt’s mostly dried tears.
As Matt stared at Gus, he realized he didn’t need to worry. It was Gus, kind, helpful Gus that Matt trusted. He really, really trusted Gus, Matt realized.
He opened his mouth and spoke. He spoke about the stress, how he felt during class, how he just couldn’t deal with it anymore. Gus just held his hands and took it in, rubbing comforting circles into Matt’s hands.
When he finished, he looked up to see Gus’s reaction. Gus had a pensive face, and Matt was worried he had overstepped.
“I know how you feel,” Gus said, holding Matt’s hand tighter. “Titan, I know it’s hard. All I can really say, Matty, is that you just need to take a small break.” He gave a small smile, making Matt’s insides melt. “That’s what works for me. That and reading, but, you know. Matty, it’s okay to not understand. I promise we’ll work on it. There is so much we can do.”
Matt sniffled again, letting go of one of Gus’s hands to wipe at his eyes. “I don’t want to burden you—”
“Mattholomule,” Gus interrupted, and Matt blinked at him. Gus hadn’t used that name in… Probably forever. “Listen to me. You’re not a burden. You’re my friend, and I will gladly dedicate time to help you, however you need me. I’ll be here, okay?”
Matt nodded, and Gus smiled at him, squeezing his hands. Matt squeezed back. His mind wasn’t completely cleared, not yet, but he was getting there. He was getting there.
“Are you ready to go back?” Gus asked softly.
Matt thought about it, then he grinned at Gus. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Gus stood up, helping Matt up as well. He didn’t let go of one of Matt’s hands, grinning. “Then let’s go ace this, yeah?”
Matt took a deep breath, squeezing Gus’s hand and looking him in the eye. “As long as I get sweets afterwards.”
Gus laughed, and Matt felt lighter. His thoughts weren’t gone, and there was a voice in his head still, trying to feed the fog. But he was better. He was. And he felt happier than he had in a while.