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Jake sat at the edge of his bed, dark thoughts swirling in his mind.
He had woken up from a nightmare about the fire, luckily it was morning so he didn’t have to try to go back to sleep, but that didn’t stop the spiral of horrible thoughts in his mind.
His parents left him, his house burned down, he got SQUIPed, it was like every time his life got back on course something bad happened. Maybe if he just– no! He tightly gripped the edge of the bed next to him. “You promised Rich, and every time you do you end up feeling guilty and in an even worse state than before…” he said aloud to himself.
He took a deep breath. If only he could just disappear forever.
~~
As Rich was getting dressed, pulling on his shirt, he heard footsteps and the quiet click of something hitting the floor in the kitchen.
“Jake must be up,” he muttered. It could only be Jake as both of his parents had work today and the clicking could only be Jake's cane or crutches. He walked out of his room and into the kitchen.
“Hey Jake,” he said, stepping into the kitchen, but Jake wasn’t there. “Hm.” He shrugged, assuming he had just come to grab water or something.
Rich took a few more steps into the kitchen before pausing. The medicine cabinet was opened and Jake's bottle of anti-depressants (that he had NEVER opened) were gone.
~~
Jake stood in front of his bathroom mirror, holding some of the pills in his hand and gently leaning against his cane. The bottle was on the sink.
This was the right thing to do, right? Yes, of course it was. It's what he had wanted for 2 years at this point.
He sighed. He would be hurting so many people… Rich, Brooke, all of his friends really, but… he couldn't take the nightmares and guilt anymore.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his shaking hands. He put the handful of pills in his mouth, and–
“JAKE?!”
Shit. Rich’s footsteps got closer and closer till he swung the door open.
“Jake, what are you doing?!” He snatched the bottle off of the sink, preventing Jake from getting more.
“I’m sorry–” Jake tried to say through the pills in his mouth.
“Spit them out,” Rich demanded, holding his hand out. Jake shook his head. “Jake please,” he pleaded.
Jake stood there, considering it before covering his mouth and swallowing the few pills.
“NO!” Rich grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his face. “How many was that, Jake?!”
“F-five, I think…” Jake said shakily. He felt horrible for hurting Rich like this.
“Five… okay, okay, you'll be okay.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Jake. “You know this isn’t right,” Rich said to him. He held his hand a little too tight. “Why would you do that?” Jake didn’t respond.
Guilt was already eating him alive. Did he learn nothing from senior year? His last attempt just ended in the hospital. He should've chosen a fool proof meth– no!
“Jake?” Rich’s voice sounded in the quiet, still room. Jake's eyes teared up. “Jake…” Rich set the bottle down (out of Jake's reach) and wrapped his arms around him.
“I-I’m so sorry,” he managed to choke out. “I’m such an i-idiot,” he buried his face in Rich's hair as quiet sobs escaped his throat.
“No, no, no, Jake, don’t say that.” Rich slowly let go of him and wiped away some of his tears with his thumb, his other hand going to Jake's hand on his cane, gently caressing it.
This was sadly a normal sight for Rich. Jake's gentle sobs accompanied by the tear streaks on his cheeks, his face lightly shadowed because he was bending down to look at Rich better.
“Here, let’s go sit down.” He gently pulled Jake out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, supporting him on the side his cane wasn't on.
They sat on the edge of his bed, Jake still shaking as tears spilled down his face.
Rich pulled him into a tight hug, keeping him tightly pressed against him till he calmed down.
Once he had stopped crying Rich pulled away enough to look at his face. “Why would you do that?” he asked quietly, placing his hand lightly on Jake's cheek
“I’m sorry, I just… it’s like every time something good happens to me something even comes after, I just want it to stop…” He wiped his eyes. “A-and the nightmares…”
“So you…?” Rich’s voice trailed off. He gave him a concerned look. Jake just bowed his head in shame.
Rich took a breath. He knew how it went as he had depression at one point too, but he got better, and Jake didn't... He felt horrible.
Rich sighed. “Why don’t we stay in today? I think you need a mental health day.”
“Yeah…” he took a deep breath, “Thank you, Rich.” Rich nodded.
“If you start to feel bad though, please tell me so we can go to a hospital.” Rich held one of Jake's hands tightly. Jake nodded. Rich let out a sigh of relief, leaning forward and gently kissing Jake's cheek.
“I love you, Jake.”
“Love you too, Rich.”