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Sitting on a couch has never felt harder.
Charlie is next to him, and his mum is in the recliner beside them. His hands are shaking slightly.
Before they’d come downstairs, Charlie had helped him change his trousers. They thought it best to not startle his mum with a large bloodstain before she knew anything. Charlie promised to take them home and clean them, as he had experience cleaning blood from cloth (Nick’s chest feels tight when he thinks about that too hard).
“Nicky? What’s wrong?” He feels a tear run down his cheek, and he wipes it away rather forcefully. Charlie takes his hand, pulling it away and keeping it in his own lap. Nick’s other hand tangles itself into his fresh sweats, rubbing the fabric awfully against his thigh. He’s thankful they picked black ones, just in case.
“I, um. Charlie thought I should, um, talk to you…I don’t- I-” His tongue feels heavy. He can’t do this. He can’t. He moves to stand, and Charlie tightens his hold on his hand. “Nick, you’re okay. You can do this. Just breathe, okay? Breathe. Do you…would you rather I started this conversation?”
Nick nods uselessly. He’s still focusing on his breath, so he won’t feel so conscious of his mum and boyfriend talking about him. He pulls his hand from Charlie’s grip, placing his hands over his ears instead. He pulls his knees up, tightening into himself until he’s in a sensory deprived ball. He can still hear the conversation, but it’s muffled, and it makes it easier.
“Well, Mrs. Nelson. Sarah. I went upstairs to find Nick, and he wasn’t in his bedroom, so I checked the loo, and he was in there. He, uh, he was having a rough time, and…and he hurt himself.”
There’s a long silence. He can’t see his mum, but he knows she’s probably looking between the two boys, eyebrows pinched and mouth set in a concerned, straight line. He hears her breathe in a long breath, and let it out slowly.
“I…Nicky? I don’t… can you look at me, Nicky? Please?” Charlie’s hands come up to cover his own, and they pull at his hands until his ears are free. Nick lifts his head, and his eyes lock with his mum’s, and it’s so much worse than he thought it would be.
She’s crying, silently, looking at him with such sad eyes that he almost wants to go back upstairs and finish the job just so he doesn’t have to bear this anymore. Then, he shudders, because he’s never thought like this before. His mum opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again. “Nicky, I’m so proud of you for coming to me. Has this happened before?” He shakes his head, and Charlie whispers beside him, “This was the only time, Sarah. I promise.”
She nods sadly at Charlie. “I’m so glad you two chose to talk to me. Thank you, boys. Thank you, Charlie, for having him come down here. I know he tends to keep these things to himself, so I’m not sure he would have told me.”
Nick feels his heart pick up. He isn’t sure either. He doesn’t think he would have told anyone if Charlie hadn’t seen him. He isn’t sure he would have stopped tonight if Charlie hadn’t knocked on the door.
He isn't sure when he started thinking so openly about stuff like that. Like this. He also hates that his mum had to thank Charlie, thank Nick, for telling her. As though she could have expected them not to. As though Nick could lie to his mum. He hates lying to her. He hated not telling her about Charlie, not telling her about all of the stupid drama he’d landed himself in because he happened to like a boy, not telling her about Ben. Admittedly, that wasn’t his story to tell, but sometimes, like tonight, it weighs deep in his chest and drowns him. He thinks he could have stopped it, if he’d run to help the second he heard angry voices, instead of staying to listen. Identifying the attacker didn’t matter, now, since Charlie refused to tell anyone.
“Nicky? Love, can you hear me?”
He shudders, head twitching upwards. Charlie and his mum are watching him, and he gets the feeling he’s missed something. “Yeah- yes, sorry, mum. What did you say?” Sarah smiles sadly at him, a few stray tears hanging near her chin. Nick wants to wipe them away and hug his mum, apologise for everything, and never let go.
So, he does.
Legs shaking, he picks himself off the couch and walks nervously to his mum. With a shaking hand, he wipes away the tears, holding her face for a moment. She closes her eyes briefly, leaning into his touch, and then he wraps her in a tight hug, face pressed into her shoulder.
Sarah hugs him just as tight, pulling him in until he’s almost sitting on her. They both cry together, Sarah quietly, and Nick with loud sobs that shake his core, and his mum. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, mum…” Sarah just hushes him, soothing a hand through his hair. Another pair of arms encases him, and Charlie presses a soft kiss to the back of his head.
Pressed between his mum and boyfriend, Nick slowly stops sobbing, sniffling and snotting occasionally. His mum rocks him gently, and Charlie rubs a thumb slowly over his stomach, chin nestled in the crook of his neck. Voice light, he speaks into the near-silent room.
“I’m proud of you, Nick. I’m so proud of you.”
They haven’t said I love you yet, and when they do, it probably won’t be in front of his mum, but nevertheless, Nick knows what he means. Another tear slips, not out of sadness or stress this time.
No, between his mum and boyfriend, he’s safe. He’s loved. And he knows, through support and love, he’ll be okay.