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Scott had woken up on edge.
He didn't know what it was that set him off, maybe it was nothing at all. But either way, he got out of bed feeling distinctly wrong.
Nom had come by earlier, and Scott felt his presence everywhere, from the misplaced toothbrush by the sink to the random jacket hanging from a hook. Just a few nights ago he had wanted Nom here, had been perfectly fine with leaving Nom's items strewn around the room. However, the more he stood in the middle of his room the more the wrongness settled on his shoulders. Scott felt pinched and pulled at the ends, his brain fuzzy but so, so sharp.
Scott checked his comm and cursed. He had slept in far too long. Yesterday he said he would hang out with Mae the next morning, and now he was a little pressed for time before the planned meeting hour came up.
The static in his brain only grew louder. Everything was screaming at him to curl up and hide from the world. Scott didn't understand it. He loved Mae, he knew he did. But right now, the thought of seeing her made him want to claw his skin off.
What was wrong with him?
The whole room smelled like pollen. The covers were all messed up. The sunlight from the windows was too much. Scott wanted to scream and cry and merge with the earth, but instead he settled for laying on the floor. The wood panels hurt, but they were cool and coarse and the lesser evil at the moment.
He was going to be late for Mae. He didn't want to move. His muscles felt like they were miles away, his limbs simply unable or unwilling to budge, his mind too much of a mess to rally them.
Get up. Scott's brain tried to say. It's just the floor. But he stayed right where he was.
His brain was like a whirlwind of knives, stinging and sharp and fragments of thoughts clinging to him through the gale. Scott had always hated it when he got like this. The only person who had hated it more was his dad. He was a kind, gentle man, but he never seemed to… understand. Scott wasn't sure which of them he hated more: his dad for not getting it, or himself for not conquering this by now.
He was being childish, he was far too old for this. And yet, none of these facts made him budge. His arm was hurting in the position it was in, his hair was mixing with his tears.
"Scott?"
The door creaked open and he heard the now familiar voice of Nom floating from the entrance. Scott felt himself shake once. He had gone through so much effort to become friends with the knight, only for him to find Scott here. What would he think of him?
Scott had been doing so well, even under the circumstances. He had gone so long without an episode, and now here he was, choosing the worst time. Selfishly, he didn't want to hear what Nom had to say about his tantrums. Didn't want to see his face wrinkle with disgust at Scott. It might break him even further.
He felt Nom pause as he took in the situation. Scott wanted to tell him he wasn't in any danger, to leave and forget he ever saw Scott like this, but his mouth didn't work. "Are you okay?" Nom's voice was tinged with a slight note of panic.
Scott didn't respond, but he saw Nom lean over him, register that Scott seemed to be following his every moment with his eyes, that nothing physically seemed to be wrong. There was no medical emergency. Scott waited for the inevitable disgust and frustration.
What are you, five?
I don't understand you when you do this.
Move, talk, do anything!
"I'm in no rush. Take all the time you need."
Scott had to register for a moment what Nom said. There was no derision in his tone. He seemed to actually mean it. And sure enough, he took a seat by the bed, not moving but keeping a casual eye on Scott.
The silence stretched on. There was no urgency in Nom's movements, no glancing at the door or checking his comm every thirty seconds. He was willing to sit and wait.
Scott had never had someone do this before. He didn't know what to think at first. Why was he here if not to push Scott back into movement and speech?
But nothing changed. Scott felt the storm in his brain begin to sputter out, leaving him feeling worn, threadbare, infinitely more tired. He felt like a husk of a person. Nothing hurt anymore, but nothing felt anymore either. The worst part had ended, at least.
Scott could feel his body again in all its glory, with all its aches and warmth and sickness from his tears. He took in a shaky, watery breath. It felt fine to get up now. He started with his pinkies, moving them slowly but surely. Then his other fingers and his toes. It felt odd to be in control of his body once again, especially since it wasn't all at once.
Soon, he was moving his arms, and supporting his torso, then rising off of the ground and wobbling like a newborn deer. Nom looked up at him, and Scott looked back. He had stayed the full time. A comforting presence rather than an impatient or judgemental one.
Scott's mouth still wasn't working, but he nodded at Nom. "I told Mae you're under the weather. You can have your alone time if you need," Nom got up. Scott was glad Mae didn't feel ditched. She would be kind about the whole situation, he thought.
Scott tapped the wall and typed something into his comm. He had never learned sign language and didn't know if Nom knew any either.
Thanks for staying.
Nom saw it and a small smile broke out on his face. "Of course. You can always count on me. Always. Do you need anything? Tea? Books? An interpretative dance?"
Scott grinned at the idea of making Nom do some sort of dancing thing. Tea would be nice. Extra honey? He typed.
"On it!" Nom ran to the kitchen, and within minutes, Scott heard the kettle whistling. He didn't understand what to do, of course he didn't. They had only met a few months ago! And yet, he was maybe the first person not to make Scott's episodes worse.
He wasn't used to this type of care, especially when he felt like he had inconvenienced Nom so much. But for now, he let Nom fuss over him and allowed himself to feel loved and understood.