Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He was supposed to feel better.

Charlie had been home from the Daffodil Clinic for months. Things were good. Not perfect like his boyfriend had a habit of needing things to be, but better nonetheless. Of course things had changed, not just with Charlie but in their relationship, that didn’t matter to him though. Part of him had been expecting the worst while Charlie was gone, spending night after night on google, reading people’s horror stories of being in inpatient facilities like the one his boyfriend had been admitted to. He was home now, though. That’s what he kept telling himself. Being there had helped Charlie and Nick was so proud of him for making the difficult decision to go and putting in the work to get better. He was eating more. His sleeping habits were a lot better, no more falling asleep at random times. He was less snappy towards him and their friends and Nick got to see him every day at school again, sometimes after school and on weekends too, when Charlie didn’t have therapy. These were all good things, great things even. Nick was supposed to be happy, wasn’t he? That’s what people kept telling him.

It must be such a relief having Charlie back home.

I bet everything feels normal again, right?

You were such a good support to him, Nicky. He’s lucky to have you.

You must be so happy!

At least the worst part is over.

Nick knew people were just trying to be helpful and supportive in their own way by saying those things. If only they knew the truth. It almost felt like he wasn’t allowed to be sad anymore. Charlie was home. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, counting down to but even with the boy he loved so much back by his side, it was getting harder to fake a smile and the fact that he had to fake a smile made him feel selfish. Charlie had just gone through something traumatic, something no one, especially not someone their age, should have to deal with and Nick.. well he hadn’t gone through anything, not really. So why did he feel like this? If Charlie could fight to recover, why couldn’t Nick suck it up and cherish their time together, time that at Charlie’s lowest points, he never thought they’d have.

He felt like he was constantly holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for everything to come crashing down around him. There was this heaviness in his chest that made it hard to breathe sometimes, refusing to ease up no matter what he did. The only time it would lighten was when Charlie was around but even that was barely helping and it wasn’t like they could be together every second of every day. Charlie didn’t want that anymore, he didn’t need Nick as much as he needed him. The weight in his chest was growing heavier by the day, some worse than others, but today? Nothing he did would ease the feeling that had made itself at home in his chest or the ache that had settled deep in his bones.

He was so fucking tired.

Nick sat on the edge of his bed, his phone in hand as he absentmindedly scrolled through instagram. His knee bouncing up and down.. up and down, making Nellie, who was resting her head against his leg, whine in protest but he couldn’t stop so instead he gave her a gentle pat with his free hand, a silent apology. He had no idea what he was looking for amongst the posts, maybe a distraction to stop his mind from wandering to dark thoughts or maybe some sort of comfort, a reason for him to keep going. He scrolled through picture after picture, anytime he came across something one of his friends posted, he hovered his thumb over the little heart and pressed it. Tao and Elle looking in love. Like. Sahar practicing with her band. Like. A silly Tara and Darcy selfie. Like. Isaac’s recent reads. Like. Imogen in an explosion of pink. Like. He continued that pattern for what could have been a few minutes or a few hours, he wasn’t sure. Time hadn’t been something he could keep track of lately, sometimes laying in bed for what he thought was a half hour but ended up being the whole day.

Rolling his shoulders, he clicked onto his own profile, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips seeing the last picture he posted to his grid. It was of course his favourite person to take photos of, Charlie, who had quickly become the main focus of his account. He was basically a Charlie Spring fan account, which he had no shame about, no matter how much their friends teased him over it. His fingers ghosted the screen where Charlie’s face stared up at him. The picture was a bit blurry but he could make out dark curls blowing in the wind. His dimples deep— a genuine smile making his eyes crinkle in the corners. Nick wished he could remember what was said to make him smile like that but for the life of him, he couldn’t. He wondered if it was something he said.. he hoped it was, though it probably wasn’t.

The photo should have been enough. It usually was. Charlie always managed to make him feel so much better, but right now, seeing how happy Charlie was only made him feel worse. Not because he didn’t want his boyfriend to be happy, of course he did. He just hated that he’d been faking his own happiness for so long. Charlie deserved someone who could be happy with him, not the complete disaster Nick felt like he was. Everyone deserved better from him— a better son, a better friend.

Why couldn’t he be better?

Nick frowned when he noticed a little drop of water on his screen, confused for a brief second before his hand moved to his cheek and found that it was wet beneath his fingertips. When had he started crying? Blinking back the tears, Nick clicked out of instagram and into his messages. He had multiple unopened. Some from their ‘Paris Squad’ group chat, others from the rugby lads and even Tao had messaged him about some film he wanted his opinion on for a movie night he was having— that was weeks ago though and Nick hadn’t gone. No one asked where he was or why he didn’t turn up.. or maybe they had. Nick couldn’t remember. Swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat, he pressed on the message thread he was looking for. The one he had with Charlie, his gaze immediately focusing on the last message.

Char ❤️
I can’t come over today, my mums being annoying. Maybe we can do it tomorrow instead? Sorry x

And wasn’t Nick just the worst boyfriend in the world, feeling relieved when he’d read that message earlier that morning. The boy he wanted to be around all the time. The boy he would spend forever with if he could and yet he had been almost happy that he’d cancelled. Now, sat there alone in his room trying not to cry, he would have done anything to have Charlie there with him. Sure, he could have called or texted, he could have let him know that he wasn’t doing as well as everyone thought he was but he didn’t want to put all his issues onto Charlie. He didn’t want to add any unnecessary stress into his life. Though he knew Charlie would hate the idea of Nick dealing with this alone, he couldn’t risk it. He would never forgive himself if he was the reason that things spiralled out of control for him again, there was just no way he could let that happen. He quickly locked his phone, staring at his reflection, warped by smudges and shadows on the black screen. He looked just as tired as he felt. His jaw tight. Hair greasy. Nick almost had a hard time believing that was him looking so.. empty. It gave him a familiar tight feeling in his chest. It had been there for a long time, if he was being honest. Maybe even before Charlie. Maybe it started when he was a kid, when his dad left and his brother started acting like a dick. His eyes closed at the memories of his childhood, his hand moving to his chest, rubbing the area to try and calm down. It was getting harder to breathe with all those thoughts swirling around his head. Like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed as hard as they could.

He took a deep breath, counting to five. Something his aunt Diane taught him when he was little.

Breathe in, two, three, four, five.

And out, two, three—

His throat was dry and his chest felt tighter than ever before as the unshed tears he’d fought so hard to keep from falling stung his eyes in protest.

Nick threw himself back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling as his head started to spin and he closed his eyes tightly. What’s wrong with me. The words hit him like a truck, a strangled noise escaping his throat. He had Charlie, the boy he loved more than anything. He had real friends for the first time in his life, who he’d been ignoring recently. Rugby was going well but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about the sport he once loved. His mum was proud of him, even though she shouldn’t be. He should be happy. He liked his life, isn’t that what he told his dad not too long ago? He liked who he was and he liked his life. What’s wrong with me! What’s wrong with me! What’s wrong with me! He hadn’t realised he was screaming until Nellie’s barking snapped him out of it, her weight pressing against him in what he was sure was supposed to be grounding, comforting but for once it made him feel like he was suffocating.

His hand rest on Nellie’s fur, trying to block out the voices that warped in his mind, the voices that sounded suspiciously liked his dad, David, Ben and even Charlie.

You’re not good enough.

Not a good enough son. Brother. Boyfriend. Not a good enough student. Friend. Not a good enough rugby captain.

Not good enough.

Not good enough.

Not good enough.

He tried to ignore them. Forcing himself to think about happy things, about Charlie, but happy memories of them playing in the snow, their first kiss, the first time they said ‘I love you’ morphed into sad ones. The ones that Nick tried to bury deep so he didn’t have to think about them anymore. The nights they’d spent on the phone when Charlie had a bad day, Nick trying to find the right words to say. When Charlie would tell him that he hurt himself again. All the times he’d had to be the calm one. The strong one. The reliable one. Nick had never told Charlie how scared he was. All the time. How he was still terrified. His boyfriend needed someone strong. Someone solid he could rely on so Nick became that for him. Nick made sure he could be the support system Charlie needed but underneath it all, who was he really? Who was Nick Nelson under the facade? Deep down, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

The house was eerily quiet, his mum left early that morning to spend the day with his aunt Diane, uncle Richard and his cousins. He was supposed to go with her, he hadn’t seen them in a while and they’d apparently been asking about him which made him feel guilty. He could have agreed to go when he found out Charlie couldn’t make it but he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed so he insisted he’d be fine on his own. A lie. He was getting really good at telling those and no one seemed to notice or call him on it. Maybe they didn’t care or maybe they were all too busy moving on with their lives while he was stuck, unable to more forward. It was weird, how wrong he could feel as everyone around him went on as normal. Even Nellie looked at him like he was the same boy she’d always known. How couldn’t she see he wasn’t? How couldn’t anyone else?

Nick stood up, his movements automatic, not fully aware of what he was doing. He somehow made it to the bathroom, not turning the light on. He didn’t want to see his ghostly reflection staring back at him with judgement but the door was cracked open, letting in a stream of light from the hall and that was all it took for him to reluctantly meet his own eyes in the mirror and he loathed what he saw. He was disgusted. How could anyone stand to look at him? He looked.. broken, just as broken as he felt on the inside. There was no way Charlie could look at him and see someone he really fancied, was there? He didn’t look sad or angry. He didn’t even look scared, knowing what he was going to do next.

He just looked blank.

Throwing the cupboard open, he rummaged around inside, pushing away old razors, packs of paracetamol and plasters. His hands were shaking but he wasn’t cold. He just felt desperate, the only thing he could think about was finding the one thing that could possibly make him feel better, even if just for a second. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth when his hand landed on exactly what he’d been searching for. It was the first time he’d smiled genuinely in months and that should have terrified him, but it didn’t.

He didn’t want to die. Not really. There was no universe in which he would leave behind his mum, Charlie and Nellie. Just the idea of never seeing them again caused a flicker of doubt in his mind but it was fleeting because he was going to be okay, he wasn’t going to die. He just needed something to take the edge off. To make him stop feeling like this for a few minutes so he could think without the constant noise in his brain. He needed something to break before he did (then again, maybe he already had).

He grabbed the box of blades for his razor, taking one out and dropping it in the palm of his hand. He’d never done this before. There were times that he’d thought about it, when he was young and wanted to take away the pain of his dad not showing up again, after he promised he would. Bad rugby matches. To punish himself for laughing at a horrible joke one of his ‘mates’ had made. He’d never gone through with it though, maybe part of him was too scared or the moment passed before he had the razor blade in his hand, like he did now. His thoughts turned to Charlie. Nick swore he would never do anything like this to himself because he saw first hand how it made his boyfriend feel afterwards, how it made the people around him feel. Nick never once judged Charlie for self-harming but he remembered the feeling of being sat on his bed, tending to the marks he’d left on his skin. It scared him so much that he’d made a promise to himself that he would never do it to himself, that he would talk to someone if he ever thought about it again but the voice in the back of his head was getting louder and harder to ignore and he didn’t really have anyone he could talk to.

Not very good at keeping your promises, are you?

His eyes squeezed shut as he hesitantly pressed the sharp blade to his skin. The sting faded almost as quickly as it appeared. It was just one line. That was okay, right? Just enough to make himself feel better, he thought. The only issue was, he didn’t feel better. He didn’t feel anything good. No relief. No pain. Just guilt and self loathing.

He pressed again.

And again.

And again.

He lost track of how many times he lowered the blade to his skin but he started to feel light headed and couldn’t keep himself upright without holding onto the sink that was slippery with some sort of liquid. He felt his knees give way and let himself drop to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. His breathing was laboured and his fingers went slack, the sound of metal clattering against the tiled floor barely making him flinch. His gaze was unfocused but he could just make out the thin lines littering his forearm. His eyes were filled with tears, blurring his vision so he couldn’t count how many but it was enough to sting now, to feel like his arm was on fire but his mind, that was finally quiet.

Nick thought that it would make him feel better but now that he’d actually gone through with it he felt scared and a little bit ashamed. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was how Charlie felt after he had done it. Had the boy he loved more than anything felt this alone? The thought made him feel sick to his stomach, though he wasn’t sure if that was due to the blood loss or the shock of truly understanding for the first time how Charlie felt when he hurt himself. Maybe it was both.

Time passed slowly.. or maybe quickly, he wasn’t sure. All he could do was stare down at the mess he’d made, watching as the blood pooled and beaded against skin that looked paler than usual. It didn’t feel real. It felt like he was watching someone else but he knew he wasn’t. This was him. This was his body and this would scar. A mark etched into a canvas already covered in invisible wounds.

The house was still quiet, almost back to normal. Like nothing bad had just taken place in the bathroom of the unassuming house on their little street. It was weird to imagine his neighbour out tending to their garden or kids playing in the street, totally oblivious to the horrors of what was hiding behind door number 34.

He had no idea how long he was sat there.. seconds? Minutes? Hours? Did it matter? He felt a shiver run down his spine and all he wanted was to climb into bed with Charlie and Nellie, hug them both and tell them how much he loved them. How sorry he was but he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t move. His legs wouldn’t cooperate and his arms lay useless in his lap.

The faint sound of jingling keys and the creek of the front door opening downstairs caught his attention. He didn’t move though. He couldn’t. His gaze went from the ceiling down to his arm, listening to who he assumed was his mum, picturing her taking her coat off and hanging it by the door, going into the kitchen to put the kettle on all while he traced the drying blood against his freckled skin, wondering how he’d managed to do that much damage. When had he stopped at his arms and travelled down to his wrist? Did he really do that? It had to have been him but he couldn’t remember.

The sound of footsteps and a faint Nicky in the distance snapped him out of his thoughts. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. He wanted to shout out for his mum, to tell her he was sorry.. he didn’t mean too but he didn’t answer her.

He couldn’t.

The last sound he heard was a scream echoing through the silence, and the last thing he felt was the crushing guilt that she had to be the one to find him.

Chapter Text

The house was quiet as Sarah Nelson closed the front door behind her, shaking off her umbrella and placing it on the hook next to her son’s coat. Despite the bad weather, It had turned out to be a lovely Sunday afternoon. She’d spent some time catching up with her younger sister, Diane, and her family. The only thing missing, or person missing, she should say— was Nick. She’d tried her hardest to convince him to go with her, even guilt tripping him by telling him how much they’d been asking after him recently, which was true. Diane had voiced her concern when they’d had a moment alone, explaining the details of the last conversation she’d had with her nephew during their Menorca holiday, but that was almost 5 months ago. Sarah tried her hardest to remember but she couldn’t seem to recall the last time Nick had gone with her to visit their family, choosing to spend all his time alone in his room. It was strange, Nick had never been that kind of kid, or teenager now, she supposed. Out of her two children, David was the one who would spend all of his time in his room, playing video games and sulking about something, only coming out for food. Nick on the other hand, loved being around her, whether he was helping out in the kitchen or they were watching movies together. Her sitting on the couch, him curled up with Nellie on the floor. Sometimes they would watch the same movie over and over again until they were both sick of it. She would never get tired of teasing him about his Pirates of the Caribbean phase. He loved Kiera Knightly, and Orlando Bloom, she’d later learnt.

For once, her pleading hadn’t worked on him. He flat out refused to go, letting her know that Charlie was coming over. She’d chalked it up to him wanting some alone time with his boyfriend and thought nothing of it. Before she left, she’d peeked her head into his room one last time, just to double check with him that he really didn’t want to go with her. Something felt off, he hadn’t looked well but he assured her he felt fine and his forehead felt normal when she had pressed her hand to it so she pushed aside that little voice in the back of her head telling her something wasn’t right. She convinced herself she was overreacting. Nick had never coped well when he was feeling poorly, only ever wanting two things. Her, and Nellie and he hadn’t asked for either of them.

It had taken exactly two seconds after she’d shut the door behind her for the guilt of leaving him home alone to start growing deep in her chest. She was his mum. She should have stayed to take care of him. Those persistent thoughts were the reason she’d decided to come home earlier than planned, something just hadn’t felt right. Her whole body was screaming at her to go back— so she did. Sarah left her sister’s house in a hurry with a half hearted promise that she would bring Nick along next time.

Walking into the kitchen she immediately headed over to the kettle, clicking it on and reaching up into the cupboard, grabbing two cups and placing them down on the counter. She figured some honey and lemon tea would be good for Nick if he wasn’t feeling well, and if he was feeling better, he could drink it anyway. There was no harm in being cautious. As she waited for the water to boil, Sarah pottered around the kitchen, cleaning up the mess she’d made that morning before leaving for Diane and Richard’s. The lack of footsteps thundering down the stairs, followed by the softer patter of paws close behind was concerning. Nick must be feeling really poorly if he wasn’t coming to greet her like he usually would, Nellie hot on his heels, tail wagging and kisses at the ready. Shaking her head with a fond smile, she set about finishing the tea. Honey and Lemon for him. Milk for her. With both cups ready, she sat hers on the table and grabbed the oreo chocolate bar she’d popped in to buy him on her way home as a treat (and an apology for leaving him alone) before making her way up the stairs with the hot drink in one hand and peace offering in the other.

“Nicky?” She called out, wrapping her knuckles against his bedroom door.

Silence.

Assuming he was sleeping, Sarah pushed the door open as gently as she could, not wanting the creak of it to wake him if he was getting some much needed rest. She’d noticed he hadn’t been sleeping much lately, hearing footsteps around the house at all hours of the night, and the sound of the TV or music playing when he should have been fast asleep. Sarah wanted to bring it up to him, and she had, multiple times but he had brushed her off with promises that he’d try to go to sleep at a more reasonable time. That was all she’d ever asked for, that he try but it didn’t feel like he was trying, not really. Nothing had changed. He still wasn’t sleeping and she couldn’t figure out why.

Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realised that not only was Nick not in his room, but Nellie was wasn’t there either and his phone had been abandoned, face down on the carpet next to his bed. Weird. Nick never went anywhere without his phone. Like most teenagers, the device was practically glued to his hand at all times, especially when Charlie wasn’t around. Now that she was thinking about her son’s boyfriend, wasn’t he supposed to be coming over to spend the day with Nick? That’s why he said no to going with her to his aunts house, or so she thought.

Sarah didn’t panic. Not at first, anyway. Nick was old enough to go out without telling her. She’d always tried her best not to smother either of her sons, even though sometimes she couldn’t help herself. Nick was a good boy, though. He’d never given her any reason to worry. He always sent a text if he left the house, just so she’d know where he was and wouldn’t worry. He’d always been responsible like that. For him not to be there, no text saying where he’d gone, and his phone left behind, those were causes for concern and an uneasy feeling washed over her, but she tried to explain it away. Maybe he and Charlie had decided to meet up with some of their other friends. Maybe they’d gone over to Charlie’s house instead. Obviously the latter was unlikely, she wasn’t born yesterday. What young couple would willingly give up the chance to spend time alone in an empty house? Especially Nick and Charlie. It didn’t make any sense.

Walking across the room, she pulled the curtains open. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time Nick’s room had seen the light of day but the moment it filled with dull natural light, her stomach dropped. He wasn’t usually a messy person. Sure she had to ask him for his laundry or to bring the odd dish down the stairs every once in a while but right now, it felt like she was standing in the middle of someone else’s room, someone she didn’t recognise. Clothes were thrown around haphazardly. Dishes were piling up on his desk, no homework or study materials in sight. The bin in the corner of his room was overflowing with wrappers and pieces of scrunched up paper. It was like he hadn’t cleaned in weeks.

Alarm bells were going off in her head but she didn’t want to believe anything was wrong. He would have told her if something was wrong, wouldn’t he?

Stepping out of his room, pulling the door closed with a quiet click, she was just about to head back down the stairs when a blur of brown and white fur barrelled towards her— ears pulled back, body language off. They’d gotten Nellie when Nick was only six years old. Sarah knew her like the back of her hand so when she didn’t immediately wag her tail or bounce up to lick her in greeting, she knew something was wrong. Before she had the chance to pet her, the boarder collie was off, running down the hall until she was stood outside the bathroom door. That was strange. Nellie only ever sat there when Nick was taking a shower, but the water wasn’t running. She would’ve been able to hear it if it was. Brushing it off, she assumed Nellie was just sulking, not used to being left on her own for long. Just as Sarah turned to leave, scratching at the door and pitiful whinging stopped her in her tracks. That odd behaviour was enough to have her mum senses tingling.

“Nicky?” She called out again, her heart racing as she approached Nellie, absentmindedly petting her to try and calm her down.

Again, nothing.

She took a step closer to the door, the cooling tea in her hand sloshing over the side of the cup, dripping slowly. Sarah raised her free hand to knock— once, then twice but instead of hearing anything from inside, the door creaked open just enough for her to catch a glimpse of grey fabric that looked suspiciously like the jogging bottoms her son had been wearing that morning.

“Nick, are you in there? If you don’t answer I’m coming in.”

She was sure threatening him would do the trick but the silence that followed was deafening, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to convince herself that everything was fine. Her son was fine. There were a million different reasons for his clothes to be lying on the floor. Maybe Charlie had come over as he was getting out of the shower and he forgot to pick them up. Maybe he’d been in a hurry. Maybe they were from a different day and she had only just noticed them. Even with all those theories, the bad feeling that had settled over her was only getting worse, she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath and Sarah knew she had to check, if only for her own peace of mind.

Reaching for the handle, she drew a deep breath through her nose before pushing the door open the rest of the way— and instead of the bathroom being empty like she’d hoped, her world shattered at the horror waiting for her inside.

Sarah’s body stilled as she tried to take in the scene in front of her. Nick, her baby, was there on the floor, his body slumped against the shower door, his head limp and his eyes closed. His skin was pale, much paler than usual and his clothes were stained with dark red splotches she couldn’t make sense of. She felt Nellie brush past her legs, heading straight over to Nick, immediately sniffing his face and pawing at his chest. He didn’t react. He didn’t so much as flinch. Seeing that with her own eyes, her son completely unresponsive to the dog he loved more than anything, that he’d called his best friend a million times since the day they brought her home, made it too real. She watched as Nellie gently licked her boys face. Their boys face. Trying to get his attention.

The tea slipped from her hand without warning, hitting the tiles with a sharp crack. Little shards of Nick’s favourite cup, the one with the yellow ‘N’, scattered across the floor in every direction. Her legs gave way as she rushed over to her son, her knees slamming into the tiles in front of him. Her voice was already hoarse from screaming his name into the silence, joined by Nellie’s loud barks of concern, her head now resting on Nick’s leg with her big brown eyes staring up at him, as if pleading with him to wake up. Sarah’s hands shook as she reached out to touch him, her fingers lightly brushing the hair that was sticking to his forehead out of the way.

“Nicky?” Her voice broke as her hand moved down to his cheek, shocked by how cold he felt beneath her fingertips.

Why was he so cold?

She forced herself out of the bathroom to grab Nick’s phone from his bedroom floor, knowing she needed to call an ambulance. It only took her two seconds but that was two seconds too long to be away from him. Once she was back with his phone in hand, she pulled his body towards her, letting his head fall against her chest as she held onto him tightly. Cradling him like she did when he was a baby. Rocking him back and forth the same way she would when he was little and looked to her for comfort. Whispering soft promises that everything was going to be okay while her gaze swept over him, searching for any signs of what happened. That’s when she saw it. Small and unassuming, the light from the hall catching on it. Her eyes widened as she realised what it was. A blade. A blade that still had a smear of blood on it.

Nick’s blood.

The weight of what happened in that bathroom, what Nick had done crashed into her all at once. Heavy, suffocating and impossible to ignore. Her screams echoed through the silence, hands flying to Nick’s arm to try and stop the bleeding but even as she pressed down as hard as she could, he didn’t flinch.

"No!” She wailed desperately. “No, no.. Nick, please, no! Come on baby, open your eyes. Please, open your eyes for mum!”

In that moment, with Nick in her arms, his blood on her hands— nothing else existed. Just her son, her baby, lying unresponsive on their bathroom floor and the crushing fear that maybe she was too late.

The lights were too bright, the fluorescent glow casting a clinical hue over the waiting room. Sarah was sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, her knee bouncing up and down, hands trembling on her lap. She swallowed around the lump in her throat as she looked down at the dried blood on her palms and under her fingernails. Her head snapped up when she couldn’t take the sight of it anymore. She thought she was all out of tears, but it turns out there were no shortage of them when waiting to hear if your youngest son was going to be okay after intentionally hurting himself.

The last few hours were a blur. She couldn’t remember much of the ambulance ride. She barely remembered calling 999. It came back in flashes. Nick on the bathroom floor. Her screaming down the phone that she needed help, that she thought her son was dead. Him on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance, going in and out of consciousness as the paramedics worked on him. They used words she didn’t understand and couldn’t comprehend while she focused on calming Nick down whenever he opened his beautiful hazel eyes. oh baby, it’s okay. Mums here. You’re going to be okay. She had no idea if she said anything other than that, though she vaguely remembered the screams that tore from her throat.. or maybe that was back in the bathroom. Everything since the moment she found him started to merge together. Someone must have offered her a cup of tea at some point, it had remained full, the offending beverage now sat by her feet, ice cold. As she looked at the brown liquid, her mind flashed back to Nick’s cup shattering against their bathroom floor. He was going to be so upset if— no, when he woke up.

Sarah rose to her feet, unable to sit there entertaining the thought that her son might not wake up. The hospital staff had been clear, Nick had done a number on himself, just because he opened his eyes in the ambulance that didn’t mean they were out of the woods just yet. They clearly didn’t know her Nicky very well. He was a fighter, he was going to be okay. He had to be. There was no universe in which living without Nicholas Luke Nelson was a possibility. Not for her, or Nellie. Not for Charlie, or his friends. She wished he had known that before he decided that this was the only way he could cope with whatever it was he was going through. She wished he knew how many people loved him but he’d always had issues with believing he was enough, moulding himself into what other people wanted or expected him to be. She knew that people pleasing behaviour stemmed from his dad leaving when he was little and sometimes, more often than not, Sarah wanted to wring her exes neck for the issues he’d caused both their boys.

Wandering away from the waiting area, she found a small, unoccupied bathroom. The hospital waiting room had been filled with too much noise. Shuffling feet. Distant voices. The sound of typing on a computer. It was too much. When she closed the door behind her, the sudden descent into complete silence was jarring but she finally felt like she could breathe again. Walking over to the sinks, she turned the tap on and waited for the water to run warm before shoving her hands underneath the steady stream. She scrubbed at them harshly, as if washing away her son’s blood could somehow undo everything that happened. Like it would take her back to that morning so she could insist that she was staying home with Nick, or last week when things were normal, or any other day that wasn’t this one, when her baby was at home where he belonged and not lying in a hospital bed fighting whatever demons he was carrying. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as the blood swirled pink against the porcelain. She continued wringing her hands under the water until it ran clear, every trace of what happened gone from her skin, yet she could still feel the burn of where it had been.

When she looked up from her hands, she met her own gaze in the mirror and for a split second, she didn’t recognise the woman staring back at her. Her eyes were red, her skin pale, hair sticking up in every direction. But then maybe she did recognise that person. It was the same woman who had walked past her son a hundred times over the last few months and saw that sad faraway look in his eyes, saw that he wasn’t doing as well as he was pretending and yet.. she’d ignored it, convincing herself he would be fine. That whatever he was going through was just normal teenage stuff. She couldn’t see it then but now it played in her mind like a film she couldn’t press pause on.

The house smelled like sugar and cinnamon when Sarah managed to pry the door open, waking into the house with her arms full of shopping bags. She walked towards the kitchen, pausing in the doorway when she spotted Nick standing at the counter, headphones on, mixing something vigorously. He had flour covering one of his favourite jumpers and she could tell he was tense.

“Hi darling.” She rest her hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Baking again?”

Sitting the bags down on the table, she eyed her son as he took off his headphones and turned to face her. He looked even worse than she’d expected. His eyes were sunken, bloodshot and red. Had he been crying? His shoulders were still tight but she could tell he was trying to relax them, probably for her benefit but she could see straight through it. He’d always worn his heart on his sleeve.

“Didn’t you make brownies the other day?”

His jaw ticked before he nodded once, giving a mumble of agreement as he went back to the mixture in front of him.

“What’s the occasion?” She asked.

“just felt like it.”

Those words had her pausing mid step. Nick had always loved to bake. It was something they’d done together since he was little, when he was disappointed that his dad had cancelled on him again. She would let him pull up a chair and help her with the recipes her mum had passed down to her and Diane. David had never been interested in baking so she loved that her and Nick had this thing they could share that was just for them, but doing it when he was upset, as a way to try and make him feel better meant even now he only really baked when he was feeling sad about something. When Charlie was in the inpatient facility her house was constantly filled with all sorts of baked goods that ended up being dished out to neighbours because they couldn’t keep up with his creations. Charlie had been home for a few weeks though and Nick hadn’t baked anything since, at least not until a few days ago. She had found him standing in that same spot, scowling at some brownie batter in that very same bowl.

Once could’ve been nothing. Twice was a warning.

Sarah studied him for a moment, watching the way he was taking his feelings out on the batter, his shoulders tight again, almost up to his ears. Something was wrong, she knew something was wrong and she had to figure out what it was.

“How was school?” She asked, a little lighter this time. Trying to be more casual.

Was he being bullied? Was the idea of finishing school, going off to university and leaving Charlie behind becoming too much? Was it rugby.. or his dad? There were so many things it could be and the fact that she could think of more than one broke her heart.

Nick eventually shrugged in response. “Fine.”

Another one word answer. Short. Clipped. Not like her Nicky at all. Sure, he could have a bit of an attitude, like most teenagers, but that only came out when it was forced. When he was trying to protect someone or something he really cared about. More often than not it flared when his brother was home from university, teasing him even when she told him not to.

Clearing her throat, Sarah started going through the shopping bags, putting things away where they belonged. The silence between them was uncomfortable. She knew something was wrong and she had a feeling that he knew, she knew something was wrong.

“Nick, sweetheart, is everything okay?”

He hesitated and she watched as he fought with himself internally for a few seconds but he seemed to have made up his mind as he turned around to look at her. Really look at her. There was something there, something was wrong. She knew it. She could see it in his eyes. They had once sparkled so bright and beautifully but were now dull with a sadness that was almost hard to look at.

“Mum, I think—“ He started, finally going to open up but then..

RING..

Her phone buzzed violently against the table, the moment between them shattering. She glanced down, ready to ignore whoever it was but when she saw the contact blinking repeatedly on her screen, she knew she couldn’t. She shot Nick an apologetic smile while standing up so she could take the call elsewhere.

“Give me two seconds, darling.”

Nick didn’t respond.

The call lasted ten minutes total, her boss asking if she could go in and work an extra shift that night which had her mind preoccupied, forgetting about the fact she had been worried about her son only moments ago. When she arrived back in the kitchen, Nick was gone, the worktop clear, the only sign he had been there at all was the perfect looking muffins sat on the cooling rack.

She never did ask what it was he was going to tell her and he never offered up that information again.

The past and present blurred, the weight of regret settling over her. She had been so close to hearing what was wrong and then she’d gone and messed it up. How could she have let the moment slip away so easily? It seemed obvious now that something was seriously wrong. Why hadn’t she listened to her gut? Why hadn’t she pushed him harder?

Sarah gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles turning white as her reflection in the mirror blurred, tears welling in her eyes.

She hadn’t asked again.

She hadn’t asked and now her son was in the hospital, hooked up to an IV, his pale skin marked with cuts he’d made himself, possibly trying to end his own life or to cope with the pain she had no idea he was feeling. Now she wasn’t sure if she would get another chance to ask. How could she ever forgive herself? How could Nick ever forgive her?

The sound of the bathroom door hitting the wall made her flinch. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper, running her hand through her hair before she headed back out to the waiting room, her gaze fixed on the floor as she turned the memory over in her head, thinking of all the little things she could have done differently so that she’d never ended up there. Sat in a plastic chair in the hospital, waiting to hear if her son was going to be okay or not.

It wasn’t long after leaving the bathroom that the doctor she recognised from working on Nick when he’d first been admitted approached her. She quietly followed him down the corridor and into a room. It was silent other than the steady beeping and humming of machines she didn’t know the names of, and her own laboured breaths. Her eyes scanned the room slowly, settling on one of the beds. In that bed, lay Nick, motionless. The doctor had already warned her that he wouldn’t be awake. When he’d woken up earlier he had been agitated and posed a risk to himself so they had to sedate him for his own good. Her heart broke even more, if that was possible, hearing those words. It was the second time she hadn’t been there for her baby when he needed her the most and she couldn’t help but feel like this was all her fault.

Approaching the chair by the side of the bed, Sarah sat down slowly, scared of moving too fast. She reached out for Nick’s hand, hesitating just as she was about to touch him, her fingers hovering over his skin.

“Mums here, Nicky. You’re going to be okay.” She whispered, her voice wavering. “I promise we’re going to get you help.”

He didn’t respond but she wasn’t expecting him to. His face remained soft, unmoving and for the first time in a long time, he actually looked at peace. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked like that.

Reaching out the rest of the way, she took his hand in her own. His skin was much warmer than when she’d touched it back in their bathroom so she was taking that as a good sign. It felt like a small but precious victory. Tears threatened to fall but she refused to let them. This wasn’t about her, it was about Nick. So she sat there holding his hand, breathing with him. She counted each rise and fall of his chest, her heart skipping a beat each time his hitched or changed, even for a second. Her other hand gently stroked his freckled cheek, watching his lashes flutter. How had she let things get this bad?

She should have seen it.

She should have insisted he talk to her.

She should have pushed harder.

She had wasted so much time pretending he was okay, too scared that he would push her away like he had other people in his life but she wasn’t scared anymore. Peace at the cost of silence wasn’t peace, not really. He needed the kind of mum who asked the hard questions, who didn’t just accept what he said at face value when she knew it wasn’t the truth. He needed someone who would take his hand and tell him it was okay not to be okay, that there were healthier ways to handle it and people he could talk to. If she could go back and do anything differently, she would go back to the scared little boy who was always worrying about everyone else around him and tell him it’s okay to focus on himself sometimes. That no one was going to abandon him for taking care of himself.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” She whispered into the silence, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.

This was a wake up call and she knew what changes she had to make. What kind of mum she wanted to be from now on. Not perfect by any means just better, for Nick because he deserved it.

“We’re going to figure this out, I promise.”

The doctor explained that Nick might not wake up for a while and the shock of the day had somewhat worn off so she excused herself, slipping out into the hallway while they were changing the bandages on his arm and wrist. Clutching her phone in her hands, she tried to keep it together. There were people she had to call, people who deserved to know what happened and people who needed to be involved in the next steps of Nick’s recovery, whatever that was going to look like.

Stéphane, David and Diane. Charlie and his parents. The school.

They were all people who needed to know what happened. She wasn’t sure if her ex would even pick up the phone, never mind come to see his youngest son but maybe it was better that he didn’t. She had no idea how David would react to his little brother hurting himself. Charlie however, was the person her mind kept going back to. He would be worried about Nick but she didn’t feel like it was her place to tell him, just in case it caused a setback in his own recovery, so she’d made the decision to call his parents and tell them first, letting the Springs’ break the news to their son. The school on the other hand, they needed to know for a very different reason. They needed to understand that she wasn’t the only person who’d missed this. They had too. It wasn’t just a bad couple of months or normal teenage moodiness. There was something wrong with her son and they had to play a part in whatever came next. She needed their support.

With shaky hands, Sarah opened her contacts and pressed the first one, taking a deep breath as she prepared herself to recount the worst day of her life over and over again.

Chapter Text

The staff room was buzzing, too many voices, too much idle chatter. It was the kind of noise that Nathan tried to avoid every morning when he’d come into work, choosing to spend that hour on his own, prepping for his first class of the day with a cup of tea in hand and the radio that sat by the window turned down low, humming softly to himself. Unfortunately for him, his usual routine had been disrupted before he’d even left his flat. Every staff member at Truham Grammar School had woken up to an email in their inbox, the sort that told you something was wrong without having the courtesy of actually telling you what that something was. It was a few cryptic lines about a phone call that had come into the office from a parent while also informing them about a mandatory staff meeting that was being held first thing, something that rarely happened— not without at least a weeks notice, anyway.

During breakfast, Youssef, who was sat across from him, shovelling his breakfast into his mouth as he read the email for the third time, had raised an eyebrow in a silent question which earned him a small shrug in return. He knew just as much as Nathan did. They’d both gotten the same email at the same time. They were both in the dark. He had no clue what on earth the staff meeting was going to be about. Part of him had assumed that it was just another well off parent, complaining about something ‘unfair’ that happened to their child, maybe something a teacher had done like god forbid giving their teenager who, definitely hadn’t done anything to deserve it, detention. Now that he was sat on the uncomfortable couch in the staff room with Priya on his left and Youssef on his right, he found himself wishing it had been that simple. That it was just some random parent calling to complain about one of them. He would have taken a furious and entitled parent over a heartbroken one any day.

He could barely hear himself think over the noise. It wasn’t loud in the way he was used to, it felt like they were all collectively holding their breaths. There was none of that pre first lesson chaos, no teachers frantically trying to down the last of their tea or coffee, muttering about lesson plans and complaining about the lack of sleep they’d gotten the night before. Like they hadn’t specifically chosen this profession. To be a teacher. To, you know, inspire the minds of the next generation and all that. No. This was a different kind of noise entirely. The kind where people worked overtime to try and make it seem like everything was completely normal. Voices a bit sharper, energy dialled all the way up as they made polite but stilted conversation about weekend plans and family updates that no one asked for. They kept glancing at the clock, waiting for the bell to ring, an official signal that their day had started and they could drown themselves in work and not think about the email, or the phone call. So they didn’t have to sit with the unspoken questions that were written all over each and every one of their faces.

How did we missed this?

Could we have done more?

Did they know they could come to us?

Would it have made a difference if they had?

It felt uncomfortably like the day they’d first found out about Charlie Spring. How he wouldn’t be coming into school for a while because of his mental health, which later became a quiet announcement about him being admitted into an inpatient facility to help with his eating disorder. Nathan had the same sinking feeling then that he does now. Teachers aren’t supposed to have favourite students, not really, but anyone who says they don’t is absolutely lying and Charlie, he just so happened to be one of his. The boy reminded him a little too much of himself as a teenager— awkward, nerdy, creative and gay. All in a place that still didn’t quite know what to do with those things. You’d think after so many years it would be different but every day when he walked through those doors he was reminded of the sad reality that yes, it was getting better, but they still had a long way to go. Thats why he tried his best to be a good role model for the students, especially the ones like Charlie who needed it the most.

When he had finally opened up to him about the bullying, Nathan had done what he could in his position, looking out for him and being the type of trusted adult that Charlie could lean on and for a while things were looking promising. He had seen some small changes in him that felt like a step in the right direction. He laughed more. He didn’t eat in his classroom quite as much. Overall it felt like he was making good progress but if there was one constant in the world of education, it was teenagers being extremely cruel to not only each other, but themselves. When Charlie had stopped coming to school and the truth came out, he’d felt blindsided but looking back he could see the signs— they were right there in front of his face. He started hiding out in his classroom again. He would sit and tear his food into small pieces, not eating it. The Paris incident. Not to mention the sad look in his eyes. There were so many little things he should have picked up on, but somehow, he’d completely missed them.

Feeling guilty that he hadn’t noticed anything was wrong sooner, he promised himself he wouldn’t let something like that get past him again.. but here they were not even a year later, in the same staff room, getting the same speech from the head teacher. The only difference was the name. Charlie being replaced by another students. A student that Nathan always thought was fine. More than fine, actually. He was the kind of student you would file under ‘well adjusted’ without a second thought. He was popular, well liked by his peers. Plenty of friends and a boyfriend who looked at him like he was the only person in the entire world. None of the teachers had a bad word to say about him either. Now he could see the mistake he’d made, how naive he’d been to assume that someone was happy just because they presented themselves that way.

Teachers were trained to spot the warning signs and after so many years in the profession you'd think it would get easier to spot. Sometimes it was easy, sometimes they showed warning signs. They’d start distancing themselves from people or show concerning behavioural changes that came out of nowhere. The sad truth no one wants to admit though, is that some people are just better at hiding their pain than others and this student, he was one of them. Nathan knew how easy it was to slip on a mask. To play the part everyone expected of you, keeping the truth buried deep inside where no one would see it and yet, he hadn’t noticed. Again. Sure, he could argue that this boy wasn’t one of his students but that was a weak excuse and he knew it. He saw him walking the corridors often enough. He sat in his classroom just as much as Charlie had.

His hand moved to his head, massaging his temples as the same four words rattled around his brain. Getting louder and louder with each repeat.

I should have noticed.

I should have noticed.

I should have noticed.

Nathan couldn’t sit there anymore. It was too much. The sound of the boiling kettle, the slurping of tea or coffee and the mindless small talk, everyone acting like it was just another day, like they hadn’t just found out that they’d failed yet another student who’d trusted them. Whose parent trusted them to do right by their child. He couldn’t pretend like this wasn’t happening, his mind wouldn’t let him. His thoughts were loud and accusing, he needed quiet. He needed to get out of there. Standing up, Nathan opened his mouth to say something about going to set up for his first class of the day but nothing came out, instead he simply slipped out the door seemingly unnoticed, moving quickly down the corridor— practically running, something students would get in trouble for but his legs were moving of their own accord, needing to get to the one place he knew he’d find the peace he was searching for. His place of solace. The very same place where the two students he’d let down had found their own solace together. Away from the rest of the world, a place he thought they’d be safe.

The art room

He took off his glasses, pressing his hands to his eyes, trying to release the pressure that was steadily building behind them. A groan escaped his lips before he could stop it and he only let his arms fall down to his sides when a pair of hands gently pulled them away. He’d recognise that touch anywhere and his body immediately relaxed under it. Nathan hadn’t realised Youssef had followed him from the staff room but honestly, he was glad. Despite needing quiet, he didn’t want to be completely alone in his silence and if there was one person he wanted there, it was Youssef. When he finally dared to open his eyes and look over at the other man, he was staring at him intensely with his head tilted in a way that told him he was deep in thought about something— funnily enough it reminded him of someone else, the same person he couldn’t stop thinking about. The person they’d let down.

Nick Nelson.

His hands were still being held tightly by Youssef who looked concerned but he didn’t ask because he knew exactly what Nathan was thinking. It was the same thing everyone in that building who actually cared about their students were thinking but no one had dared to say it out loud but Nathan, he couldn’t keep it in.

“He came here once.” He motioned around the room. “Nick, without Charlie. He came here and he obviously wasn’t okay but I didn’t do anything. He looked so.. and I just—“

It was lunchtime and the corridor was unusually still. Sunlight spilled in through the tall windows, catching the mix of dust and glitter in the air. He could hear the laughter and screams of children somewhere outside but after so many years of teaching, Nathan could tune it out rather easily. He was making his way to the art room where he and Youssef had agreed to meet and eat lunch together, away from the chaos of the staff room. Away from the prying eyes of their colleagues. When he turned the corner, it wasn’t his boyfriend (was he too old to be calling someone his boyfriend?) standing outside the door but rather a student. One he hadn’t seen in quite a while.

Nick Nelson.

He was stood there frozen, like he’d forgotten how doors worked, his bag hanging loosely off one shoulder as he stared at the handle like it might magically open by itself if he just waited long enough. He watched with interest as Nick reached out and then pulled back quickly, shaking his head like it had personally offended him somehow.

Nathan frowned to himself. It had been two weeks since the staff learnt about the situation regarding Charlie Spring and it was no secret the two boys were close. Usually if you saw one, the other wasn’t far behind and more often than not they’d end up in the art room eating lunch and leaving twice the amount of crumbs on his floor but he couldn’t find it in him to scold them for it.

Once Charlie stopped coming into school, that’s when everything seemed to change. There were no more knocks at his door asking if they could eat in there. No stolen cups of tea he pretended not to notice. No hands linked together under the table, something that made him smile because he couldn’t imagine being that open about loving a boy when he was their age, especially not at an all boys school but they were so unapologetic about it. It wasn’t just about how open they were with each other, it was the way he witnessed them speak to each other, and about each other. It was rare, that kind of relationship— especially between two teenagers. Most adults weren’t as attentive as they were and though he saw the start and end of a lot of relationships between students, theirs felt different somehow.

Now here one half of them stood, without the other. One of the most popular boys in school. A rugby lad. Standing outside his classroom looking so.. lost, but also looking hopeful, like he might find the answers to whatever questions he had going on inside his head, behind that door. If only he could work up the courage to step inside.

“Nick Nelson.” Nathan spoke, stepping out of the shadows with a smile.

Nick startled, glancing over at him like he’d been caught doing something wrong. There was an expression he couldn’t quite read on his face but he was trying to cover it with a smile, except it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It looked almost painful. Nathan was used to seeing Nick’s endless energy but without Charlie there with him, it was like his battery had completely drained and that worried him more than he wanted to admit.

“Oh, uh— Mr Ajayi, I was just..” Nick trailed off, a panicked look on his face.

He had a million words on the tip of his tongue.

How are you?

You don’t have to pretend here.

You can come in, even without him.

You’re always welcome here.

He didn’t get to say any of that though. Just as he opened his mouth, Youssef came barrelling around the corner, lunch in hand, mid sentence about how he was late because he had to keep a few students behind after class. Nathan tried to listen and nod along at the right times but he wasn’t paying attention, not really. His mind kept circling back to the look on Nick’s face. He looked tired, the kind of tired that settled deep in your bones, making itself at home there and it left him with an uneasy twisty feeling in his stomach.

Turning back around to the door, he was ready to offer the classroom to Nick. He and Youssef could eat in the staff room if he wanted to be alone, it wasn’t a big deal but when his eyes fell on the spot where the student had been standing only moments ago, it was empty. He was gone. Just like that. Almost as if he’d never been there. For a second Nathan wondered if he’d imagined the whole interaction but he immediately shook those thoughts off. There was no way he had imagined that look on Nick’s face. He had to have been there.. but now he wasn’t. Probably going off to find his friends. Or at least that’s what he hoped.

Nathan dismissed his concern with the brief thought of checking in with him tomorrow, assuring himself it could wait just one more day.

“I didn’t check in with him”

Youssef gave him an encouraging nod, patiently waiting for him to go on if he wanted to, without interrupting or asking any follow up questions. Just simply being there to listen, letting him get it all out. Surprisingly, he was really good at that. At just being there. It was one of his favourite things about him.

“I really did plan on it.” He continued, his eyes fixed on a painting one of his students had left drying on the rack, it blurred through the tears he was trying to hold back. “I told myself I would find him the next morning. I was going to make sure he was okay, ask if he needed anything but I didn’t. I got caught up in.. I can’t remember what but it probably wasn’t important. The day slipped away from me, then the week was over and I just.. never asked.”

The admission sat heavy between them, the kind that didn’t need any comforting words. It wasn’t your fault. He’d already decided it was.

“I thought after Charlie came back, things would settle down again. That Nick would go back to his usual self. What is it some of the students call him? A golden retriever?” He smiled fondly, catching a hint of a smile from the other man. “I thought he would be back to his normal self and I think we were all so relieved about Charlie being back and doing well that we just ignored what was in front of us— at least I did.”

Youssef placed a hand on his back, steering him over to one of the tables. Nathan felt his throat tighten as he sat down at the one he’d always thought of as Nick and Charlie’s. He’d seen them sat there so many times throughout the year, laughing over half eaten lunches and whispering secrets he wasn’t privy to. It was the same spot he’d first met Nick Nelson, completely misjudging him. It was around the same time Charlie had opened up to him about a boy who was his boyfriend, but not really. He didn’t want to talk to him unless it was in private, ignoring him sometimes in front of other people and there Nick was, in private, waiting for Charlie. The secret boyfriend. It had made sense at the time and Nathan could admit that he’d been a bit cold towards him that day, bordering on unprofessional but now, sitting there with the knowledge that Nick was in the hospital because he’d hurt himself, he wished he could take it back.

If he had been more welcoming, maybe Nick would’ve seen him as someone he could trust. A teacher he could talk to when things got bad. Maybe the art room could have become a real safe space for him too, outside of his relationship with Charlie. He couldn’t rewrite the past though, all he could do was sit with the weight of his mistakes and try to learn from them.

In the quiet that had settled over him and Youssef, Nathan made a silent promise to Nick that he would do better from now on. Not just for him but for all of the students that attended Truham Grammar School.

Youssef watched as Nathan fell apart in front of him. The grief and guilt was evident on his face but he didn’t say a word, he just kept a steady hand on his back, hoping it was bringing him some kind of comfort. Even if he wanted to say something, he couldn’t. He wasn’t going to trot out the usual ‘it’s not your fault’ crap because, frankly, it was. Not just Nathan’s— but theirs. All of the staff at Truham. They were supposed to be there for these students that were in their care for six hours a day, five days a week.

He liked to act like he didn’t care and most days he did a convincing job of it, he thought. He asked himself at least a dozen times why he’d bothered getting into teaching for various different reasons but he always had the answer tucked away in the back of his mind. He wanted to be the type of teacher he never had when he was at school. Yes, Nicholas Nelson drove him crazy with that phone of his in hand when he was supposed to be revising, even after Youssef had made his rules crystal clear but honestly, Nick was one of the good ones. A good student with solid grades and a good head on his shoulders. He seemed to be a decent anchor for Charlie, from what little he’d seen of them together and maybe that’s why no one looked at him twice. Everyone’s eyes were pointed in Charlie’s direction, before and after he came back to school and Nick, he kept showing up. Smiling as best he could, doing what was expected of him. It was easy to believe that he was fine but the truth was uglier than that. He could see it now, they’d been worrying about the wrong boy. Or at least they should have been worrying about both boys for different reasons.

“It wasn’t just you.” He mumbled, folding his arms across his chest protectively.

“What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath. Opening up, it wasn’t his strong suit. He much preferred to keep his feelings guarded and to himself— much like Nick, he supposed but Nathan.. he had this way of getting past the armour. He made him want to do better.. to be better, to say the things he usually buried deep down until he couldn’t suppress it anymore and it came out of him in the form of rage. He focused on the table, the idea of looking Nathan in the eye while he said what he was about to say wasn’t something he could handle right now. He didn’t want to see the disappointment on his face so he focused on their hands that were pressed together.

“Nick.” His throat tightened around the name. “I knew something was wrong. I ignored it. I even.. sent him away once, when he tried to talk to me.”

Youssef had arrived at his form room early that morning, which was a rare occurrence for him. Nathan had given him a lift which meant he was there a lot sooner than he wanted to be but they’d agreed to keep things lowkey at school and they wanted to avoid the students seeing them get out of the same car. Priya was right, they really didn’t want teenagers assuming things about them. So he had to be good. It was worth it, getting to spend the night with the man he.. really cared about, even if it meant showing up to work way earlier than he would have liked. He hated hanging about, making awkward small talk with the other teachers, which is why he headed straight for the classroom he took form in and not the staff room.

He wasn’t expecting anyone to be inside so when he pushed the door open and found Nick Nelson sat at his desk at the back of the class, it caught him off guard. They sat in silence for the most part. Youssef making his way through a stack of papers he had to mark, glancing up every so often. Nick hadn’t moved, his eyes fixed on his desk like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. The pattern of looking up and away again continued until the bell rang and the rest of the students filed in, disrupting the silence.

“QUIET!”

He ran through the register automatically, not realising what he’d said until it was too late.

“Charlie Spring?”

His gaze flickered to the empty seat next to Nick, who didn’t even flinch, but he watched as his jaw tightened when another student made a throwaway comment about how unfair it was Charlie got skip school. Most of them had started to notice their classmates absence but only a select few of them knew the real reason he wasn’t there. Nick was one of those people and now he was looking at him, he could see what the weight of carrying that secret must be doing to him. He looked exhausted and for a lack of a better word, sad. He thought about asking if he was okay but the bell was about to ring and he still had announcements to read out so he convinced himself he looked fine considering, dark circles aside.

When form ended, Nick lingered until it was just the two of them again. He asked if there was anything he could take to Charlie so he was caught up with the goings on at Truham. Youssef handed over a few things, they were probably of no use to him but at least it cleared some of the clutter off his desk. Even with the handouts gripped tightly, Nick didn’t leave. He shifted from foot to foot, the nervous energy radiating off of him, sneaking glances when he thought Youssef wasn’t paying any attention. He was clearly waiting for something. An invitation to talk, maybe for him to ask how he was, but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything. No excuse. He just didn’t and that silence was something that would haunt him.

“If that’s all, Mr. Nelson, I believe your next class is about to start.”

He kept his eyes on the paper in front of him, only looking up when he didn’t get a response. Nick was already walking out the door, his shoulders tense and his hand gripping onto his bag strap tightly. Guilt prickled uncomfortably under his skin and with a sigh he opened his mouth to call out after him but the door closed before he had the chance and he was back sitting in the silence.

“He was quiet without Charlie.” Youssef thought out loud, leaning back in his chair. “Half the time you’d hardly notice he was there. It was strange, I was so used to telling the two of them to keep it down but once Charlie stopped coming in, it was like Nick was gone too and even though Charlie came back, I don’t think Nick ever did. Emotionally.”

This time it was Nathan who reached out to place a soft hand over his. Normally it would have been a small but welcome gesture, something grounding but now it only made Youssef feel worse because the student who needed that sort of comfort hadn’t gotten it from anyone. If he had, maybe they wouldn’t be sat there now, trading stories about the chances they had to help but instead of helping, they’d looked away.

“I keep thinking that if I’d just.. given him the space to talk, maybe we wouldn’t be sat here discussing him like this. He could have gotten help.”

Nathan nodded sadly, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. A simple gesture, letting Youssef know he was there. That he wasn’t in this alone.

“I asked him how Charlie was.” Nathan admitted, sneaking a glance in his direction. “Not once did I ask how he was doing. Maybe if I had.. maybe if any of us had..”

Maybe he wouldn’t have hurt himself.

Youssef didn’t argue.

He couldn’t.

They sat in silence, their fingers laced together on top of the desk, leaning into each other for comfort. The only sound was the faint hum of the old heater that was kicking into gear and the ticking of the clock, counting them down to the start of what was sure to be a stressful day. Youssef’s mind drifted to the boys who were going to be walking into the building any minute now, without Nick. He was a popular student from what he’d seen during the Paris trip. He had a solid group of friends including the ones he was usually seen hanging around with— Charlie and his friends, as well as some of the lads from the rugby team and a few of the girls from Higgs. People were bound to notice his absence sooner or later, and they were going to start asking questions he wasn’t sure how they were going to answer.

Chapter Text

Monday, 12th.

I don’t even know where to start. I don’t really feel like writing if I’m being honest but I told a friend once that it helps to get your feelings down on paper.. so I should probably take my own advice. I have no idea where to start, so I’m just going to write and see where it goes, I guess.

Nick’s in the hospital. He.. hurt himself.

I still can’t believe it. It doesn’t feel real. He always seemed so steady, looking after and supporting all of us when we needed it. Part of me knew he was struggling but I thought that was because Charlie wasn’t here, he just seemed so lost without him. I didn’t think he’d do something like this. I know I should have reached out more. I should have pushed harder to get him to open up to me, or to anyone he felt comfortable with. Why didn’t I?

Tara slammed her journal shut, flinching at the force she’d used. She stared at the front cover, her eyes burning with tears, surprised she had any left. Her stomach was in knots— the same familiar panic she felt just before she went out on stage to dance in front of a room full of people, just without the excitement. Instead it was dread that sat uncomfortably under her skin, making her feel all wrong and tangled up inside. She’d only ever felt that way one other time. When she had been standing outside of Darcy’s house, face to face with their mum for the first time, listening as she scoffed that her child looked like a lesbian, as if that was the absolute worst thing in the entire world. Tara had experienced that incident first hand though, with Nick, she didn’t have all the details and honestly? She didn’t want them. She didn’t want to picture her friend in whatever state he’d been found in. She wasn’t sure she could handle that.

Her mum had woken her up earlier than normal that morning, sitting her down to give her the news that Nick was in the hospital, and he might be there for a while. His mum, Sarah, had apparently made a phone call to Charlie’s parents, who were given permission to tell the other parents of their friend group. The information went from person to person, she must have been one of the first since she’d watched as message after message poured into their group chat, expressing their shock at the news. She hadn’t said anything though, she didn’t know what to say. If there was anything she could say that hadn’t already been said.

It was hard for her to process. The boy she’d kissed one time, the boy who alway made sure everyone else was okay, being in so much pain that he’d hurt himself. Just the thought of him being alone and scared had her chest aching, her throat dry. She felt completely useless, that little voice in the back of her head telling her she should have done something before it reached that point. Loud and accusing. The worst part was, she couldn’t even argue with it. She should have done something sooner. Tara had always been the type of person who liked to try and fix things but she couldn’t fix this, she couldn’t go back in time and she had no idea what to do going forward. She wanted to reach out to Nick but that seemed like a bad idea, she doubted he even had his phone on him which was probably for the best. She just wanted to hear his voice, to have real confirmation that he was going to be okay and maybe that was selfish, after everything that happened she still wanted him to comfort her in some way when he was the one needing comfort right now.

With a shaky breath, Tara reopened her journal, picking up the pen, her hand trembling so much she almost dropped it. For a few moments she just stared at the words that were already there, resisting the urge to scribble it all out, as if that would somehow write it out of existence. With a sigh, she lowered her pen to the page and forced herself to keep going, scrawling whatever came to mind, even though it felt clumsy and inadequate.

I think it’s my fault..

It’s my fault. I told him I would be there for him and he seemed confused, insisting that he hadn’t been through as much as Charlie had. I tried to tell him that he’d been through a lot too but he brushed me off and tried to focus on other people again. Even though he was struggling he still tried to be there for us, especially Charlie and I get why. I did the same thing with Darcy after everything with their mum but eventually I realised I had to put myself first. It’s the same thing as when they tell you to put on your own mask first on a plane if an accident happens because you can’t help someone else unless you help yourself first. Or something like that. I don’t think Nick learnt that lesson. He probably wouldn’t have wanted to hear it. He just kept insisting he was okay.

I pretended to believe he was okay because I didn’t want to make things worse. Maybe there was a little part of me that wanted to believe him. I still made sure he knew I would be there for him if he ever wanted to talk. I promised him. Yet the one time he did call, I didn’t pick up and I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for breaking that promise.

Will Nick? Probably because that’s the type of person he is. He has the biggest heart, not wanting to see the worst in anyone. Would I deserve his forgiveness though? I don’t know.

The guilt sat heavy in her chest and she couldn’t focus, her mind refusing to stay in the present, instead going back to the day he’d called her, the day she had broken her promise. The image of three missed calls blinking up at her from her phone.

Tara was sprawled out on her bedroom floor, her and Darcy’s legs tangled in a messy heap on top of blankets, laughing so hard their cheeks ached. Darcy was mid sentence, hands waving around as they described some ridiculous story Tara knew wasn’t true. She knew how much they liked to embellish. It didn’t matter, it still pulled a giggle out of her, her body hitting the bedside table which made her drink wobble dangerously close to the edge. She caught it just before it toppled over, only making the two of them laugh harder. She half expected a knock at the door, her mum telling them to keep it down.

“This has been the best day ever.” Darcy declared, grinning as they threw a crisp in her direction, making Tara gasp in mock offence.

They fell back onto the makeshift bed, tossing pillows at each other, one hitting Tara directly in the face, forcing another burst of laughter out of the them.

For a few moments they just lay there in each other’s arms, everything still and perfect. It felt good to have Darcy at her house for sleepovers again now they had moved in with their nan and were no longer living with Tara and her mum. She loved Darcy more than anything but sometimes space was good. It made the sleepovers and time they spent together more meaningful. No expectations. No horrible parents lurking. Just the two of them in their safe haven, lips pressing against skin every so often, the two of them soaking up the moment.

Nothing perfect could last forever, though.

The sound of her phone ringing broke them apart. Tara wrestled with the blankets while Darcy watched, shaking with laughter at her failed attempts. Giving up after a few minutes, Tara leaned back into Darcy with a mischievous grin, pressing their lips together. She’d almost forgotten about the phone completely— until her hand slipped under Darcy and her fingers brushed against the device tucked under their back. Clearly having been hidden from her on purpose.

“Darcy!” She laughed, pulling it out from under them with a roll of her eyes.

When the screen lit up, all the playful energy was immediately sucked out of the room, not that Darcy seemed to notice.

Nick
20:03

Nick
20:05

Nick
20:08

Her stomach dropped as she scrambled off the bed, shouting that she’d be back in a second before locking herself inside the bathroom, her heart racing as she tried to call him back but of course it went straight to voicemail.

“Come on Nick, please answer..”

Her fingers tapped against the porcelain sink as the voicemail tone played over and over again. Just a few weeks earlier she had promised Nick that she would always be there for him, and now, the first time he’d actually reached out to her— she’d missed it.

It took four more tries, calling and immediately hanging up when she heard the stupid little beep, before he finally picked up. He didn’t say anything though, the silence on the other end made her skin itch. She could hear his breathing coming out in short bursts with the occasional sniffle, like he’d been crying, or still was. Guilt started to rise in her chest, knowing that he’d probably tried to call her for comfort but she hadn’t picked up. She’d left him all alone when she promised she would be there.

“Tara.” His voice was cold and flat, it sent a shiver down her spine. She’d never heard him sound like that before and she didn’t want to hear him like that ever again.

“Nick, hey! Sorry I missed your calls, I couldn’t find my phone. How are—“

“I’m fine.” He cut her off, too quickly. Like he’d had it on the tip of his tongue just waiting for someone to ask.

She frowned, staring down at her phone as if sheer willpower could force him into telling her the truth. Just this once. Why was it so hard for him to admit that he wasn’t okay? He wasn’t perfect, no one was but Nick seemed to think he had to be. She’d noticed it even back when they were kids. When she thought they’d be together forever. He had always sort of moulded himself into whatever someone needed or wanted him to be in that moment and it made sense that a person could only do that so many times before they started to crack.

“You don’t sound fine.” She whispered, like it was a secret just between them. “Do you want to come over? Darcy’s here, maybe we could invite everyone else for a movie night. Hopefully Tao won’t mind me stealing his thing just this once.” She joked, trying to lighten the mood a little bit.

It didn’t work.

If anything, it did the exact opposite.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were with Darcy. I shouldn’t have called you. It was stupid. I’m fine, really. Have a nice night, don’t let me ruin it.”

Before she could respond, to reassure him that he hadn’t ruined her night at all, that she wanted to talk to him— the line went dead. Her stomach sank, she knew something was wrong. Very wrong. She redialled his number again.. and again but each time it went to voicemail. She had no idea what she was going to say if he did pick up but she couldn’t stop trying, he was her friend. One of the people she was closest to out of their friend group and it hurt her knowing he was hurting and dealing with it all on his own.

On the seventh or eight try, she had to give up, taking the hint.

“Hi, it’s Tara again. I know you don’t want to talk but I’m worried about you. When you get this please call me back or send a text, just so I know you’re okay. I’m always here for you, Nick. Whatever’s going on.”

Only a few minutes later her phone buzzed with a reply. Just four little words staring back at her.

I’m fine, thank you.

It didn’t ease the bad feeling that had washed over her but she wanted to believe her friend. What else could she do? Push too hard and risk losing him? Tell an adult? Would anyone even listen to her? With no clear answers, she reacted to the text before shoving her phone into her pocket and leaving the bathroom, telling herself that he’d call again if he really needed her. She had to believe that was true.

Trying not dwell on something she had no control over, she forced a smile on her face as she headed back into her bedroom, assuring Darcy that she was fine, but as the night went on she couldn’t stop thinking about Nick. The bad feeling she’d gotten earlier sticking with her into the early hours of the next morning, and all of that day too.

Tara pushed her chair back from her desk, the legs dragging against the dull carpet. She shook her head, like that might make the memory disappear. Her eyes moved to the clock that sat by her bed. Great. She was already running late. For a second she thought about staying home, she was sure her mum would let her miss one day, despite her need for Tara’s academic achievements, if she asked just this once but staying home meant sitting alone with the knowledge that she’d let Nick down when he needed her the most and that was the last thing she wanted to think about right now. Being around people, even those she didn’t particularly like, the ones who treated her differently ever since she’d come out as a lesbian, felt safer and that was saying a lot. She needed a distraction. Getting on with school work rather than replaying the same scenario in her head over and over again, wondering what would have happed if she’d picked up the phone the first time it rang that night.

Her hands were shaking as she shrugged on her shirt, a sigh slipping past her lips before she could stop it. Her gaze moved from the clock, catching her reflection in the mirror across the room. She expected to look different for some reason, but she didn’t. It was the same face she’d seen staring back at her for the last 17 years. The girl who’d promised she’d always be there for her friend and then wasn’t. What if he’d been calling because he knew he was going to hurt himself? Because he was scared of that feeling and wanted someone to distract him or talk him out of it? The thought burned in her mind. There was no way it was a coincidence that he’d hurt himself the very next day. If she’d picked up the phone, maybe she could’ve calmed him down, tried to convince him to talk to a teacher or his mum. Maybe she could have stopped it.. or maybe it would have happened anyway. That was the worst part. Not knowing. Coming to terms with the fact she would probably never know. She wasn’t sure Nick would tell her the truth if she asked. Too afraid to hurt her feelings.

Tara smoothed down her skirt, her fingers clumsy as she tried to fasten the buttons on her shirt. Each one felt like it was closing in on her, tighter and tighter, until it was hard for her to breathe— like she was subconsciously punishing herself. The same thing flashed in her mind. She didn’t have to close her eyes to see it. His name lighting up her phone screen. Her gut screaming at her that something was wrong, even after he’d told her he was fine. She knew deep down he was lying and she’d done nothing about it. She had assumed they’d have time to talk, that she’d catch him on Monday. Today. Making sure that he really was okay, but Monday never came. Okay that was dramatic, it had come. It was here. Just not in the way she’d expected. Her standing in her bedroom wondering how she’d messed up so badly while Nick was lying in a hospital bed somewhere, hurting. That wasn’t the kind of thing anyone expected. You don’t think something like that can happen to someone you care about. It felt like something you hear about on the news or a scene in a movie, not something that occurs in your friend group. To one of your best friends.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, it felt heavier than usual. Probably because she’d crammed it full of books for classes she didn’t even have that day. Not that it matter, she knew she wasn’t going to actually open any of them anyway. All she was going to be thinking about was him. Tara knew she had to go though. She wanted to go. Nick would want her to go. It was the right decision. She watched the minutes tick by, thinking about walking past her classmates while they laughed and joked, acting like nothing happened and it made her stomach twist nastily. School meant pretending. Pretending she was fine. Seeing her friends who were pretending like they hadn’t seen the signs, the ones that may as well have been lit up above his head with an arrow pointing to him. One that flashed something simple. I’m not okay. She couldn’t help but resent the fact that they hadn’t noticed. It didn’t feel fair.

Slamming her front door shut without so much as a goodbye to her mum, Tara shoved her earbuds in and pressed play, letting her usual playlist run. Each song being skipped within the first few seconds, most of them too cheerful for her mood, or too heavy, threatening to pull tears from her for the third time that morning and she couldn’t afford to fall apart right now. She didn’t want to cry. Her phone buzzed in her hand, the group chat active again. She’d been ignoring it for the most part but the little snippets at the top of her screen tugged at her curiosity until she gave in, coming out of her playlist, leaving the current song playing.

The lyrics hit her hard, almost knocking the breath out of her, stinging way more than she thought possible. She didn’t turn it off though, she let the lyrics pierce her soul while her eyes focused on the texts from her friends, her guilt louder than the melody, almost drowning it out completely.

Paris Squad 🇫🇷🥖

Imogen: I just feel SO bad. Like how can I call myself his friend when I didn’t realise??

Darcy: We hang out with him ALL THE TIME and didn’t notice? We’re actually the worst 😩

Isaac: Some people are just good at hiding stuff, most of us can relate to that. Being too scared to open up.

Sahar: Isaac’s right. It’s really hard to tell when someone’s struggling. We can’t blame ourselves for something he didn’t want us to know about.

Elle: Exactly, we all thought he was okay. I don’t think Charlie knew and if he wasn’t going to tell Charlie, I don’t think he would have told any of us. We all thought he was okay because that’s what he let us think, it’s not our fault for believing him.

Tao: After what happened with Charlie I told myself I’d be more vigilant and I failed. Even after he cried on my shoulder at Sahar’s halloween party!

Darcy: I think we all failed him. He’s always been there for us but we weren’t there for him.

Sahar: We didn’t fail we just.. didn’t know how bad things were.

The messages kept going. Some blaming themselves for not seeing it, others insisting it wasn’t their fault. They were talking like it was impossible to have noticed, like Nick was some actor on a Netflix series. They were wrong, though. Someone had seen it. She had seen it. Those tiny cracks in the perfect facade he was putting on, quick flashes that were showing up more and more as time went on— she’d noticed them. She’d tried to help but she had been waiting for someone else to notice too.

They hadn’t.

She couldn’t help but feel angry at them, and at herself too. She hadn’t tried as hard as she should have and they hadn’t noticed because they didn’t want to, not because there weren’t any signs for them to see. Part of her was even a little angry at Nick. For smiling when he wasn’t okay. For driving her to ballet when he was falling apart inside. For not telling anyone he wasn’t okay. They were his friends, they would have been there for him. Why didn’t he know that? He should have known that!

By the time she reached the school gates, Elle and Darcy were already there waiting for her. Darcy’s usual grin faltered the moment they saw her.

“You okay?” They asked carefully, all three of them silently acknowledging what a silly question that was.

She nodded. Lying. The same thing she was mad at Nick for doing, so she immediately shook her head and then shrugged, all in the space of two seconds. Elle reached for her hand and she let herself to be pulled into a three-way-hug, grateful for their presence, even if she was still a little upset with them.

“It feels wrong, doesn’t it?” Elle broke the silence. “Being here like it’s just another day.”

“Yeah.”

Her voice came out rougher than she intended, swallowing around the lump in her throat. The other two continued talking but she wasn’t listening. She couldn’t stop thinking about those messages in their group chat and it wasn’t until Darcy said something echoing them that she snapped out of her thoughts and back into the conversation.

“We should have done something, we should have noticed and helped him.”

Tara wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. She couldn’t keep quiet anymore either, though. She had to tell someone about the phone call, even if they ended up blaming her for what happened. For not doing anything.

“I noticed.” She mumbled, her voice barely audible. “I tried to help and I was hoping other people were doing the same, but they— you weren’t. I told him I’d be there for him but when he called me, I didn’t pick up and when I called him back he sounded.. wrong. He said he was okay but he was lying. I knew he was lying but I didn’t say anything to anyone.”

Darcy was by her side within a second, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks with the sleeve of their jumper.

“When did that happen?”

A sob tore from her throat, her eyes squeezing shut. “The day you stayed over. Saturday. The day before he.. he did it.”

The three of them stood there in silence, none of them knowing what to say but they still comforted her— Darcy rubbing her arm while Elle squeezed her hand gently, guiding her towards the building where they’d be less likely to get caught in that state. She didn’t know who already knew what happened, if anyone, and the last thing she wanted was to start a rumour about him or be the reason what happened got out to people who weren’t in his close circle of friends.

“We were all going through our own stuff and we can’t blame ourselves for Nick’s decision forever.” Elle broke the silence first. “You aren’t responsible for not answering your phone. You know that, right?”

Tara didn’t respond.

She wasn’t sure she believed her.

They walked side by side, pressed close like they could shield each other from the stares, whispers and the ordinary rhythm of the typical school day that was still going on around them. Tara wasn’t sure how she was going to keep it together, she wasn’t sure how any of them were, if she was being honest. She drifted in and out of Elle and Darcy’s conversation, catching snippets of it every now and then. Darcy asking about Charlie, and Elle mentioning how hard Tao was taking the news, but she didn’t have the energy to respond or contribute with anything of her own, all she could do was sit with the weight of regret on her chest. Heavy and unrelenting.

Chapter Text

Tao wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he stepped onto the grounds of Truham that morning. Maybe he expected everyone to feel the same shift he had, but that’s not at all what he was met with, walking through the gates into his own personal hell.

His eyes roamed around the place he spent most days. Too many hours a day, if he were being honest and on the outside, it didn’t look any different. The same buildings that he’d being going in and out of for the last few years still stood tall. Same groups of students hanging around places they’d claimed as their spots. The smell of whatever they were making in the canteen for lunch that day wafting through the air. Everyone was acting completely normal. He was the only one who seemed to notice the change. Whose world seemed to have shifted slightly overnight. People were laughing, screaming and messing around in the courtyard, carrying on like it was a normal day.

It was ridiculous.

Nothing about that morning had been remotely normal. With everything that had been going on in their friend group recently, he wasn’t sure if that word even applied to them anymore, then again, maybe it never had and maybe they didn’t want it too but even their version of ‘normal’ had been disrupted long before that day.

Sometimes he missed when the only people in their friend group were him, Charlie, Isaac and Elle. Everything seemed so much simpler when it was just the four of them.

His bag strap dug into his shoulder as he crossed the courtyard quickly, each step heavier and harder than the last. He hated how everyone else could continue existing in their own little bubbles, not experiencing the ache that he felt deep in his chest. The ache that had been there since he realised there was something wrong with Charlie all those months ago, and he hadn’t seen it.

He was sure with Nick being popular, the news about him would spread much quicker than it had about Charlie, but no one seemed to care, or maybe they hadn’t heard yet. Maybe it hadn’t been spread through the school by idiots who thought that it was any of their business. Maybe it was just lodged in his own chest, burning inside in a similar way it did whenever he thought about his dad. It was like he was waiting for someone to say it out loud, to make it real. Yes he’d spoken to his friends about it but that was over text. Charlie had been the one to call in tears, telling him what happened before his mum had the chance to come into his room and break the news herself. It felt like a bad dream, but every time he looked at his phone, his friends talking about it, he found himself being forced into acknowledging that he’d missed something big. Again. Sure, he wasn’t as close to Nick as he was with Charlie, but that didn’t mean he got a free pass for not noticing. In fact he did notice, that was the worst part. He saw weird little moments that didn’t make sense with who Nick was as a person, or who he had come to know him as over the course of their strained friendship but he’d assumed someone else, someone closer to him was dealing with it. From what little he knew, he was wrong about that. Everyone was either ignoring it or hadn’t noticed it.

Just like him.

He spotted Isaac sitting at the benches, nose in a book like always. Not seeming at all as panicked as Tao felt. He made his way over to him quickly, craving the familiarity of being around at least one of his friends but the closer he got, the harder it hit him. Their bench looked all wrong. Two spaces were empty. There was the space where Charlie usually sat, cross legged with something interesting or funny on the tip of his tongue— the one they kept empty for months while he was off school and in the inpatient facility getting better. His gaze shifted from that space to the one next to it. The one that Nick had quietly claimed as his own when he joined their group. His easy smile shining as he leaned against Charlie. Like the two were glued at the hip. Unable to be separated, and at some point that had become their new normal. It was weird to see Nick without Charlie, just like it was weird to see Charlie without Nick.

They were Nick and Charlie, after all.

Now both their seats were empty, and he could almost pretend like they’d gone to the art room, somewhere Tao himself couldn’t imagine spending any more time than he had to now that he was actually taking it as a subject (and doing it badly). He knew that was Charlie’s safe space though, a place where he had gone when the bullying got really bad the year he was outed to the school.. because of him. It then became a place for him and Nick to sneak off to and for a second, he allowed himself to believe that’s where they were. That he’d see them at some point later in the day, teasing them for ditching their friends to kiss or whatever it was they did when they were alone, not that he wanted to think about that.

Tao dropped into his usual seat next to Isaac, letting his bag hit the ground with a light thud. That seemed to grab Isaac’s attention, he glanced up at him, only to look back down at his book after a second or two which he didn’t mind, he just glance back at the seat that he’d usually find Nick in and to his shock, he actually found himself missing him. For some reason missing Nick Nelson hit him hard, knocking the breath right out of him.

It was no secret he hadn’t liked Nick at first, and if you asked him, he had a good reason not to. Rugby King. Golden retriever boy. Poster child for everything he thought was shallow and brainless. He’d been convinced he was messing Charlie around, that he was going to hurt him somehow— because people like Nick always hurt people like them, people like Charlie. He was there when Harry spit insults at them for years and never said a word. Tao also believed it said a lot about a person, the people they chose to hang around with and back then, Nick had terrible taste in friends. That all lead him to not liking him. Not trusting him. Tao had tried to warn his best friend against whatever was going on between them at the time, but when Charlie refused to listen, he just sat back and waited, bracing himself for the fall out. To be the one to pick up the pieces like he always had when something bad happened.

To his surprise, Nick hadn’t hurt Charlie. Not in the way Tao expected anyway. This had probably hurt Charlie, just like what Charlie had gone through had hurt Nick but that wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t any of their faults, really. Maybe hurt was the wrong word. They worried each other and now they were both worrying him.

The silence stretched on and he couldn’t take it anymore, fiddling with the apple juice he was grasping tightly. Ripping at the label. He wasn’t sure his stomach could handle the acidic taste right now but he needed something to do with his hands, to ground him and remind him of Elle since she wasn’t there to talk him down— though he wasn’t sure she could even if she was. Something seemed to be going on with her and he made a mental note to bring it up later.

His knee bounced up and down.. up and down, unable to keep still, not even for a second.

“It’s weird, right? Them not being here. I mean it’s not just weird, it’s wrong. Like there were four of us again and now there’s two. Nick should have told us, or at least Charlie. But maybe Charlie knew. Nick knew about him way before any of us did and they kept it secret. Do you think he knew? He had to have known! Unless Nick didn’t say anything, which is insane because we’re supposed to be friends and—“

“Tao.”

Isaac’s voice was that usual cadence of soft but firm and usually the flippancy wouldn’t have bothered him but for some reason the single word hit him like a slap to the cheek. That probably would have hurt less. Isaac didn’t even bother looking up from the page of his book, his eyes moving as he read while Tao sat in the moment, trying to figure out what just happened.

“What?” He eventually snapped, a little sharper than he meant.

“Stop.”

That was it. No explanation. No discussion. Just that one word. Isaac kept reading like he hadn’t just shut him down completely and his own mouth opened and then closed again. He wanted to argue, like he usually would have. Forcing Isaac to engage in his spiralling, to say something about the situation, anything, but the words caught in his throat and for once he didn’t have the energy to fight but he didn’t really know what to do with himself either. He felt so unbalanced, as his mum would say. He hated when she was right.

Thankfully the bell rang before he could put his foot in his mouth any further, piercing the moment between them, shattering the awkward tension that had built there before it could go anywhere. The last thing he needed was to be arguing with the only friend he had in school with him that day.

The morning dragged on. Tao moved through the corridors, trying not to trip over his own thoughts. Again, everything looked completely normal— his classmates laughing, lockers slamming and teachers moving from class to class but sometimes, if he looked at the right person at the right time, it felt different.

He noticed Mr. Farouk leaving his form room far too quickly with a stack of papers in his hand, the name Nicholas Nelson written at the top in handwriting he didn’t recognise. Though the teacher was usually one of the more serious ones, something felt different about him that morning. He was holding the papers just a little too tightly, staring at the ground like he wanted it to open up and swallow him whole. A feeling that Tao was all too familiar with.

By mid-afternoon he found himself sitting in art class, Mr. Ajayi a lot quieter than usual. He hadn’t made any strangled noises when he’d walked around the classroom looking at their art work, coming across Tao’s and sighing. He simply looked at his drawing, looked at Tao with an expression he was sure was supposed to be sympathy before walking back to his desk, spending the rest of the lesson with a pen in his hand, marking.. something, though Tao couldn’t help but notice he’d only gotten through a few of their books in the 45 minute lesson.

It wasn’t just teachers that were clearly thinking about Nick, though. He found himself by his locker, a few nasty year 12s stood around, making ‘jokes’ and shoving each other, tossing their bags around violently. He wasn’t planning on eavesdropping on their conversation, but he couldn’t help it when one of them spoke up, loud enough for him to hear, so technically it wasn’t eavesdropping, right?

“Wait, where’s Nelson?”

“He’s not here?” One asked, looking around like it was the first time he’d noticed Nick’s absence.

“Nah, I don’t think he was in form this morning..”

They started mumbling amongst themselves and for a second he thought they might actually show some empathy. That they might notice that one of their own wasn’t there, that he’d been acting weird for months and that was concerning, but he was obviously asking too much of some imbeciles that liked to chuck stuff at people for fun.

“He’s probably just skipping with his boyfriend. I don’t think he’s here either.”

Tao froze, holding his book halfway out of his locker. They were snickering and the way they said ‘boyfriend’ made his blood boil. Not to mention that the Nick he knew would never skip school. They’d known him longer than Tao had, shouldn’t that be something they were aware of? It still surprised him how clueless people could be when it came to actually knowing things about the people around them, people they claimed were their friends. Did they stop paying attention to Nick because he started fading into the background? Or was it because Nick was no longer part of the ‘popular group’? It wasn’t his old friends he sat with at lunch. It wasn’t them that he chose to hang around with after school.

It wasn’t one of their shoulders he cried on during Sahar’s Halloween party.

He wanted to lash out in anger. To tell them why Nick wasn’t in school (at least the details he knew) to make them feel guilty, but he didn’t. That wouldn’t help anyone and he knew Charlie would be angry if he said something he couldn’t take back, especially about his boyfriend. When he blinked, slamming his locker shut, they were gone and the school continued on it’s fake normality all around him. Students laughing, arguing about homework, making plans for after school. Teachers shouting at them to stop running, giving out detentions like they enjoyed it. Everyone carried on like everything was completely fine and he felt like he was losing his mind.

The bell rang, sharp and loud, interrupting his thoughts. Tao shoved his book into his bag and made his way back out to the benches, once again, Isaac already sitting with his food in front of him, his nose buried in a completely different book to the one he’d been reading that morning. He dropped down across from him, not bothering to take his lunch out since he knew wouldn’t be able to eat anything.

When it became clear Isaac wasn’t going to talk to him, his gaze moved to the field, laughing and shouting catching his attention as some boys threw around a rugby ball and immediately he pictured a younger Nick Nelson, brushing his hair out of his face as he was tackled to the ground while Tao listened to Charlie as he babbled on and on about the boy he’d been sat next to in form. His latest ‘straight boy’ crush.

Isn't that Nick Nelson? The guy you sit next to in form?

Who?

The one that looks like a golden retriever.

He doesn't look like a golden retriever.. okay, he does.

I can't believe you've been sat next to rugby king Nick Nelson. What are you going to talk about?

He remembered Charlie telling them about an incident.. something about a pen exploding? He couldn’t really remember. It felt so long ago now. Like another lifetime.

Well, be careful.

What? Why?

Why? Look at them.. look at us. We are a group, no, a trio of borderline outcasts. He is the star player on the rugby team.

When had the shift happened? When had he stopped being the nasty year 11 that Tao was so worried about, that he rolled his eyes at and warned Charlie against and started being Nick, his friend. The boy who Charlie loved and who loved Charlie back. He wasn’t sure when it happened but somewhere along the way he had stopped being the boy who hung around them because he was dating Tao’s best friend, and had actually become someone he cared about. Someone he told about his dad’s death. He never spoke about his dad, not even with Elle. Part of him was angry that he’d slipped past the walls he’d put up and into their circle, to the point that Nick felt comfortable crying on his shoulder dressed as Captain America, of all people.

The music was loud, the lights down low and for once, Tao was having a good time at a party. Their group, other than Nick, had decided it would be a good idea for them to go out and have fun. It’s what Charlie would want. Plus, he wanted to get some extra footage for the short film he was making for Charlie. No one had heard from Nick other than Imogen, but even she wasn’t sure he was going to show up, but he let out a sigh of relief when he saw him walk through the door dressed as none other than Captain America, and he had to roll his eyes at that. Of course that’s what he picked to dress up as.

Throughout the night his eyes were glued to Nick. He wasn’t doing it on purpose, it’s just where they kept naturally going. He mainly kept to himself, sat on the couch, a beer in his hand and a frown on his face. At one point he saw someone wearing a black curly wig approach him and he lit up, probably thinking it was Charlie in his inebriated state. The immediate deflation when he realised it wasn’t his boyfriend was hard to watch. Usually Tao would have left it alone. He and Nick weren’t that type of friends. They were friends through Charlie, but for some reason, seeing him like that made him feel.. strange. Like there was something more going on. He tried to include him, grabbing him to be in the video he was making but he looked like he was about to cry, the only words coming out of his mouth being ‘hi Charlie, I love you’ but it sounded like he was saying more than that without directly saying it. Tao had no idea what that meant though, he wasn’t fluent in Nick and Charlie.

Tao continued moving around the party, capturing different things on his camera. Darcy and Tara as Shrek and Fiona. Isaac talking about some book he’d just finished reading. Sahar and Imogen making out which ended in Nick, still wanting to be there for other people, holding Imogen’s hair back while she threw up. He continued to watch as Nick weaved through the party until he disappeared completely and Tao started to panic. What if he left to go home? He’d drank quite a bit, he should have someone with him. After a bit of an internal debate, he decided to do a once over of the place before stressing himself out (more than he already was) and it didn’t take long for him to find Nick, sat in the hall with his back against the wall looking like a kicked puppy and it hurt, seeing someone he realised he was starting to really care about like that.

He thought about what he should do. There were only two options for that type of situation. Pretend like he hadn’t seen him and go back to the party or sit with him.

He chose the latter.

“Mind if I join?”

“Yeah.” Nick nodded to the space beside him, shuffling over so there was room for him. “Go on.”

Tao sat down, their bodies practically touching and he watched as Nick, the person he’d always seen as strong, broke down. Trying not to cry in front of Tao, like he was going to judge him for it or something. Like he felt the need to be strong for all of them while Charlie wasn’t there. Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around him, pulling Nick’s larger body against his own, letting his tears soak his costume as the facade he’d been putting up completely shattered, leaving him a mess in his arms and all he could do was sit there, trying to comfort him as best he could, with small pats on the arm and the odd whisper of support that he hoped was helping but he was way out of his depth, he should have gone to get Tara when he noticed Nick sat there in distress.

Once the tears were gone and they were ready to call it a night, Tao managed to get Nick back to his house, the two of them standing outside the front door. Him shushing Nick so he didn’t wake up his mum or his dog. No one else was with them, everyone else having either stayed at Sahar’s or gone back to their houses for the night. Standing there with Nick trying to get into his house using the spare key, he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He knew he needed to say something about what happened earlier but he wasn’t sure what to say. So he went with the most obvious thing.

“Are you sure you’re—"

“Fine.” Nick cut him off, soft but firm, his eyes never looking up from where he was trying to jam the key into the lock. “I’m fine, Tao.”

It sounded a lot like the time he’d asked about Charlie, during Nick’s birthday at the zoo and he’d been firm about him not talking to Charlie about whatever was going on. He was right in that instance. Don’t get him wrong, he was furious at the time, having Nick Nelson tell him he couldn’t talk to his best friend about something just because he found it hard to talk to Nick about it, he found that insulting but he still listened. It was the only other time he’d used that tone though and if he was right then, maybe he was telling the truth now. He had no reason not to believe him.

So he let the moment blow over. He waited for Nick to get safely inside his house before he headed home, pretending like the tears hadn’t happened. Pretending he wasn’t worried and didn’t feel a weird pressure in his chest, nagging at him that something was seriously wrong with Nick.

He never asked again. Not the next day, or the day after that. It was Nick’s business. It had nothing to do with him, at least that’s what he told himself. If he wanted to talk about it, Tao would be the last person he’d open up to anyway, so he forced himself to believe that he was talking to Charlie or Tara about whatever was going on. That’s how he rationalised that him doing nothing was fine.

Tao shoved his hands into his pockets, staring down at the table in front of him. He hated himself for not following up. How could he claim to be a good friend, the one thing he had always prided himself on, when he ignored stuff like that?

How could I just let it go?

How could I act like nothing happened?

He cried on me!

He considered sending a text to Charlie, just something small asking how he was and if he knew how Nick was doing but he couldn’t. What if Charlie blamed him? What if Charlie thought he hadn’t done enough or worse— what if he didn’t trust him enough to tell him what was going on, scared he’d tell everyone by accident like he’d done in the past? Shaking his head, instead of bothering his best friend he looked back over at the boys playing rugby, their movements were.. who was he kidding, he knew nothing about rugby other than Nick was good at it and scored most of the.. goals? according to Charlie.

Their voices were light and cheerful, like one of them wasn’t currently in the hospital after hurting themselves. Mrs. Singh still coaching them like they weren’t down a player. Wasn’t that an issue? They had to have a certain number of people to play, didn’t they? That’s why Nick had invited Charlie to join in the beginning.

His chest tightened.

Had they even noticed their captain was missing?

He bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing the guilt that sat heavy on his chest. Nobody else seemed to notice or care that he wasn’t there. It was strange. When Charlie was gone it took people awhile to notice but they were the outcasts. Nick was one of the most popular boys in his year, but it hit him in that moment, watching the team as they tackled each other to the ground.

Nick wasn’t really a ‘rugby lad’ anymore, despite still playing. He was fully one of them. He was an official part of his group with Isaac and Charlie as well as their friends from Higgs. He didn’t see Nick as a ‘sort of friend’ anymore. He was his friend. A close friend. The other students may not feel the weight of his disappearance but Tao did— and he couldn’t help but think that maybe that was enough, because unlike most of the people in the school, he actually cared.

He cared because he was no longer someone Tao tolerated for Charlie’s sake, or the boy he was worried about breaking his best friends heart. He was Nick. He was even more than just a close friend. He was family. Someone he couldn’t imagine his life without, someone they had almost lost and for the first time since hearing the news, he let that sink in, only looking up when he felt Isaac’s hand resting against his arm, solid and comforting. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the field, from the boys running around, picturing Nick right there with them because the idea he was out there with them was far better than the reality they were currently living in.

Chapter Text

The field always looked lonely before the boys arrived, the grass still damp from the rain that had been pouring down the night before, like it was trying to warn them about the incoming storm they were about to face. A faint shine of dew was clinging to each blade, her shoes leaving prints as she carried a bag of balls out from the equipment shed. Sometimes she had the boys set up for the afternoon session if she sensed they were going to be a handful that day and wanted to split them up for a few minutes so they could calm down, but on days like today? She liked doing it herself. She liked having a set task to focus on so her mind didn’t wander too much, and it was just an added bonus that she could set things up exactly how she wanted. Cones lined up in a row, bibs folded neatly off to the side with the balls, ready for their drills. It gave her a few minutes of quiet before she was subjected to the noise and chaos that the lads arriving would bring, hyped up like they usually were after the school day ended.

Usually Priya would have been focused, going over in her head what drills they were going to run that day, trying to decide what the best use of their time would be. Thinking back to their last practice and what they needed to work on, but not today. She wasn’t thinking about drills, future matches or rugby in general. Her mind had been focused elsewhere all week, if she were being honest. Picturing the same boy in her head since the incident, maybe even before that, though she couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it started. When she saw the shift in her star players personality.

In Nick Nelson’s personality.

She paused at the line of cones she’d already set up, her hands settling on her hips, letting out a long sigh. She tried not to think about it, but the news they’d been given that morning was playing in her head, over and over again in a continuous loop of horror. It knocked the breath out of her each time she recalled the details of what happened but she couldn’t let show just how much it was affecting her. Teachers weren’t supposed to let their emotions get the better of them, not in front of the other staff members and certainly not in front of the students, but she carried it with her from class to class, and sometimes she swore she saw flashes of auburn hair out of the corner of her eye and the sound of that very distinctive laugh echoing down the halls, a laugh that she hadn’t heard in a long time. She knew it was just her mind playing tricks on her but she wanted to believe that Nick was okay, that he was in school and what they had been told that morning was a mistake. She obviously knew that was just wishful thinking on her part, but she had a few extra minutes to pretend, before the lads started to arrive and she would be confronted with the reality that he wasn’t among them.

The hardest thing for her was seeing his friends, the ones who knew what happened to him. She only knew that they knew because she caught Tao Xu, probably one of her least athletic students who didn’t care about sports at all, the one who would avoid her at all costs, looking over at their lunchtime practice, almost like he was looking for something.. or someone. She already knew that Charlie wasn’t in school, she’d had his class already that morning and he was noticeably absent as well, not running way ahead of everyone like he usually was and she knew why. Maybe to some staff members it would have looked like a coincidence, those happened, but she knew better than that.

She remembered the day she caught Nick and Charlie in the equipment shed like it was yesterday. She couldn’t say she was totally surprised to see the two of them together, looking back, there were clear signs but she hadn’t been expecting to walk in on them kissing at school— especially not during practice. It was around the same time she noticed a disconnect from Nick and some of the other lads, and it made sense. Of course she’d heard the rumours about Charlie being gay the year before but Nick, she could sense by the look on his face how new this was for him, how scared he was of getting caught and she remembered what that was like, being his age and scared of everyone looking at you differently because of who you were attracted to. She wanted him to know he had someone on his side. If any of the lads said anything out of line to either him or Charlie, she’d be there but realistically she knew they wouldn’t tell her if that happened. Priya had worked with teenagers long enough to know how they thought. She had hoped he would go to her if he needed something, if he was struggling, but obviously he hadn’t. Maybe she should have made it clearer that she meant he could’ve gone to her about anything, not just things related to his sexuality or rugby but even if she had, she got the sense that he was the type of person that liked to try and solve his problems on his own or tried to minimise what he was going through because there was always someone going through something ‘worse’ in his mind. It wasn’t a rare thing for someone of his age to think, or any age, really.

Shaking the memory off, she bent down to adjust the cones again, making sure they were lined up perfectly despite knowing they were about to get kicked around by a bunch of rowdy boys. By the time she stood back up, some of the lads had started trickling out of the changing room. Her focus landed on the three she knew were close to Nick. Sai, Otis and Christian. They were walking towards her, their voices carrying ahead of them. Half shouting, half laughing. Clearly they knew nothing about the situation with their friend yet. She was aware that some of the team had trouble with empathy but those three always struck her as team players and kind lads. Part of her was glad they didn’t know yet, even if that was a little selfish. It meant that they could get through at least one more practice without hearing whatever rumours were going to be spread around about the night that their teammate— their friend had hurt themselves.

She shook her head, a sad smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she watched them shove each other playfully, one of them ending up tripping over his feet. Sometimes she forgot they were just kids. Fifteen, sixteen and seventeen years old. Still growing into their shoulders, sometimes coming back after the holidays looking like whole new people. She mostly saw them in this setting. In their kits charging down the field with so much confidence, tackling with so much force she found herself feeling sorry for the ground beneath them. She forgot they were just boys who had homework to do, crushes they were trying to impress and parents waiting at home with dinner that had to be reheated.

Today she couldn’t forget, she wouldn’t let herself.

Nick’s absence hung over the pitch like a dark cloud. The lads seemed to notice it too, a few of them whispering amongst themselves, though she tried not to pay attention. Their eyes kept flickering to the spot that was currently empty, the place he’d usually be stood waiting for them to start. Some of them curious, others worried. She watched as his three friends exchanged confused glances, noticing one of them slip their phone out of their pocket. Usually that would land them in trouble but this time she pretended not to see. Despite phones not being allowed on the pitch, and the fact that they might end up more worried not getting a text back from their friend, she wanted Nick to know that there were people there who cared about and missed him. Once the phone disappeared back into his pocket, they started their warm up and straight away she could already tell it was going to be a long, gruelling practice.

As she watched them, she felt a heaviness in her chest at what she saw. It was obvious she was going to have to find a replacement for Nick, they couldn’t play like that. It was the practical thing to do since they had no idea how long he was going to be out for, if he’d even come back to school, or rugby for that matter. It was supposed to be easy. One boy out, another boy in. She’d been doing it for years, but this felt different. It felt clinical and cold. Yes, they had matches lined up and they needed a certain amount of players and reserves to be able to play but the thought of having someone in Nick’s spot made her stomach twist nastily. How was she supposed to just stick another kid in there like he was just a number on a shirt, as if he wasn’t the team captain. She’d been coaching for a while and Nick brought something special to the sport. Something she rarely saw teaching teenagers.

She had chosen him as captain not because of his skills or strength, which he had in spades, she chose him because of his quiet steadiness. He was the one who made sure they weren’t messing around when it mattered, who invited the new year 10s in with open arms, clapping them on the shoulder when they looked completely lost. The one who was usually sorry for a too hard tackle. Nick Nelson was a natural leader. He never consciously presented himself as such.. he just was one. It was a quality that had always shone through, from the very first day she’d met him.

How was she supposed to replace that?

Her hand automatically went to the whistle around her neck, gripping it tightly. She couldn’t face replacing him, not yet.

Priya blew the whistle once. Sharp. The boys immediately started again but as she watched, trying to take her mind off of Nick, it only made his absence more apparent. There was less team spirit, most of the lads out of sync. His lack of presence was obvious. Her heart sank as she realised she wouldn’t have as long as she would have liked before someone else brought up filling Nick’s spot and she understood it, of course she did. Their team was important to the school. They had to play in the matches they had scheduled but she wasn’t sure how the team were going to react when they found out about what happened to Nick. She had a feeling it was going to be more than one spot she was going to have to fill, even more than two if Charlie decided he didn’t want to be there without his boyfriend. It wasn’t hard to figure out that was the only reason he played. Priya could easily pick out the ones who loved it and the ones who didn’t. Nick? Loved it. Charlie? Not so much. Despite knowing it was the right thing to do for the school and the team, she wanted to wait to replace the boy who turned up rain or shine, the boy who shouted encouragements to his teammates until his voice was hoarse. The boy who stayed behind to help other players improve, or to clean up. It felt like the minute she saw someone else in his place, she’d have to admit that the situation was real and she wasn’t there yet. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to stomach the fact that they’d let two students down in the space of half a year.

She couldn’t help but think back to Nick’s first practice. He was a lot smaller than most of the lads back then but it was clear he wanted to join the team because he loved it. She’d watched him grow and learn through the years, getting better and better with hard work and determination. That’s what set him apart from everyone else. He wanted to be there more than anything and he proved that every single day. Rugby was the most important thing in his life for a long time and that’s what first caught her attention. He wasn’t like most of the lads there, and it made him captain material in her eyes. Though she obviously didn’t give it to him then and there, she stored that information in the back of her mind, watching him carry the team more each season without even thinking about it or being asked.

Maybe that weight had been the thing that crushed him. Maybe she had given him too much responsibility and should have taken it away when it was clear he was going through something with the other lads. Her throat tightened as she turned her attention back to said lads who were having a good time, laughing at jokes she imagined weren't very funny at all. They were children. Children she was supposed to look after, not just push towards the next win. Winning matches, preparing to take on teams that were much better than them seemed so important at the time but what did those things matter now they were down their best player? Nothing was more important than their mental health and she just wished she could go back and recognise the signs for what they were and help someone who was clearly struggling.

She blew the whistle again, maybe a little too sharply since the lads straightened, staring over at her with startled expressions. Priya softened her tone when she called out her next set of instructions.They didn’t deserve the brunt of her frustration. Despite her frustrations they needed her to be steady, a soft place to land when they inevitably found out what happened.

Inside, she felt anything but steady.

The boys had settled into the practice match and the longer they played, the better they looked. It still wasn’t perfect but it was definitely better. Her eyes kept moving to a couple of the younger members of the team who were hanging back, not being as subtle as they thought. Their whispers loud enough for her to hear clearly.

“Is Nick coming back soon?”

“Dunno, I heard one of the teachers talking about how he’s probably going to be off for a while.”

Both their heads turned to look in her direction, knowing she probably had the answers to their questions but she tried to remain as neutral as possible. She clasped her hands behind her back, not wanting anyone to see them shaking. She’d learnt over the years just how observant boys could be and she figured it was better to let them come up with their own conclusions, running out of steam after a few minutes instead of adding fuel to the fire. The question repeated in her head though. Is Nick coming back soon? She hoped so. God, she hoped so. Though she knew he wouldn’t be able to play for a few matches after the incident that happened the previous week.

It was a tense match against their rivals. She had noticed something was off with him but hadn’t thought anything of it, his moods had been rather up and down so she figured something was going on with his friends or at home. The match was tense but she never would have predicted that it would end with one of her players in hospital with a bloody nose and bruise knuckles.

Priya had played in and coached enough matches to know when a team were in the zone and that day? Her team were in the zone. Passes were clean, tackles sharp and her eyes kept going to Nick Nelson who was running down the field like he was born to do so. She shouted encouragements from the sidelines, her chest swelling with pride. She was always proud of the lads but when they were playing the way they currently were, that pride only heightened.

With how everything was going, she couldn’t have predicted what was going to happen, in fact if she’d been asked to, it wouldn’t have made it into her top ten guesses.

She watched as one of the players from the other team went in for a tackle. It was too high, too rough and the sound that thudded as Nick hit the ground made her own ribs scream in sympathy. Before she could stop herself, her lips were moving, arguing with the coach from the other team. When she realised she was getting nowhere with him, her gaze moved back to Nick. He was lying on the grass, his hand grasping at his side, multiple teammates checking up on him but he pushed himself upright, brushing it off. Classic Nick. Shake it off, walk it off and carry on. Priya almost had him sub off but he gave her a little nod that told her he was okay. She could see the determination on his face, silently begging her to let him stay on.

So she did.

The match continued. Nick going after the player who tackled him whenever he had the chance but nothing escalated. Not until she heard that word, a slur, sharp and ugly leave the other players mouth, aimed at Nick.

Her stomach dropped, her eyes moving to find Nick who looked angrier than she’d ever seen him. There was a red tint across his cheeks, moving down his neck and his teammates were trying to calm him down but before anyone could react, he’d shoved the other player. Of course the other player shoved back and that’s when Nick raised his hand and stunned everyone by throwing a punch.

By the time she reached the commotion, gasps erupting from the sidelines, Nick was on the ground, surrounded by his teammates either to protect him from the other player or the other player from him. She couldn’t be sure which. This wasn’t the Nick Nelson she knew. The boy who would rather take a hit than throw one. Who would brush himself off and let insults wash over him. He’d been looking for that fight and she couldn’t figure out why.

She knew she was going to have to deal with the situation, probably ban him from a few games but right now all she could focus on was the boy lying on the ground, knuckles red and blood coming out of his nose.

She decided to talk to him the next day, catching him tying his shoe after class, tugging on them like they’d personally offended him in some way. His shoulders were tight, but they’d been that way for a few months, now she was thinking about it. His whole body hunched over, like he was trying to make himself smaller rather than bigger like he did on the pitch.

“Nick, got a minute?” She asked, leaning against the door.

“Not really.”

His tone was flat and she tried not to take offence to his words. It was so unlike him though, usually he would do anything asked of him, him basically refusing was a first and it should have had alarm bells sounding in her head but he was a teenager. She’d watched as the sweet ones became regulars in detention. Maybe it was Nick’s turn to rebel.

“I just want to talk about what happened yesterday, how’s your nose doing?”

He huffed a laugh, though he didn’t look amused at all. “There’s nothing to talk about.” He undid his lace, focusing on tying it again so he didn’t have to look at her. “It’s fine. Not broken so I can still play.”

Priya let the silence settle over them for a moment, trying to figure out how to proceed, clearly he wasn’t in the mood to be talking about the situation but she needed him to know that what he did wasn’t okay. That there were consequences.

“I’m not worried about you playing, I’m worried about you. You threw a punch. You probably would have gone further if your teammates weren’t there.”

His jaw tightened. “He deserved it!”

“Maybe he did.” She nodded, because she couldn’t disagree. What he said was awful and she wasn’t going to condone that kind of hate speech. “But you usually don’t lose your head like that, it’s not.. you.”

Nick’s shoulders jerked, like he was back there, being shoved to the ground and for a moment he actually met her gaze. He looked.. sad. There was no other way to describe it and it knocked her off balance. She was used to seeing him happy, angry, even annoyed but never sad.

“Maybe it is who I am. Maybe I’m just like my da—“ he paused, his head snapping back down, his cheeks turning pink. “Can you just.. drop it, please? I promise I won’t do it again. I’ll quit the team or whatever punishment. It doesn’t matter.”

Alarm bells were going off now. She had never heard him express wanting to quit the team before. She exhaled slowly and tried to figure out where to go from there. Every instinct in her body was telling her to push, to make him talk to her but she knew when someone wasn’t ready to talk about something and Nick clearly wasn’t there yet.

“Okay. I’ll drop it for now but I’m here, my door is always open if you need to talk. We can figure it out together.”

He nodded, and when it became clear he wasn’t going to respond, she left him there tying his shoes, carrying the heaviness of the strange conversation with her. The anger she felt at him deflated, leaving her concerned. If Nick Nelson was cracking like that, there had to be something more going on. Something deep beneath the surface, she just had to figure out what it was.

Priya really hoped he would eventually come to her. Every time her door opened she held her breath, but it was never him and things were only getting worse.

The sound of laughter jolted her back to the present, almost forgetting where she was for a moment. She tried to get her mind back onto practice but the memory of Nick’s face during their last conversation clung to her like mud she couldn’t wash off, no matter how hard she tried. She felt guilty. Guilty she hadn’t done more. Hadn’t pressed harder. Hadn’t made it clear that he could go to her about anything. She had always known him as sweet, kind and steady but that day— after the fight, she had seen a glimpse of someone else. Someone she’d never considered him to be like.

His brother.

She wished she could say she remembered David Nelson fondly, but she couldn’t say that she did. He was loud, brash and quick to throw his weight around with a temper to match. He was an average player with a lot of potential, sure, but careless with it and he refused to do anything to get better. A shoulder slammed too hard, a tackle that was a little too dangerous and the sort of arrogance that came from thinking he could outrun or outsmart almost everyone else on the pitch— something he couldn’t back up which often landed him in fights with other players. Fights with his own team and the other. She had spent the whole time he was on the team trying to rein him in, to teach him that the sport wasn’t about domination but discipline.

Nick had never been like that. He carried his strength entirely differently, using it to shield, support and steady. It was hard to imagine the two of them growing up side by side in the same house, by the same parent or parents. She wondered how they had gotten on, how they would have played together if they were on the pitch at the same time. She could picture it, two heads of auburn hair, one taller, the other broader as they ran down the pitch together and her chest tightened.

She wondered how his family were dealing with the news about Nick, especially David now she had him in her head. What did he think of his little brother being in the hospital. Did he know yet? Was he angry? Or worried. Maybe he was pretending like it hadn’t happened in that flippant way she remembered all too well. She hoped, for Nick’s sake, he was looking out for him but the memories of his brashness towards everyone around him made her doubt that was the case.

And she couldn’t blame him for not noticing. From what little she’d heard about David’s life now, he was at uni in Glasgow? Or Edinburgh? She couldn’t remember, but how could he have seen it when he wasn't around to witness the change in his brother? Especially when the people who were around him hadn’t noticed or done anything about it either.

As easy as it would have been to blame his family for not seeing it, realistically they were all partly to blame. They’d all been around a clearly struggling Nick and they had all failed him to a certain degree. It was as simple as that.

By the end of practice the lads were sweaty and muddy, their voices hoarse from all the shouting they’d been doing. She blew the final whistle, glad the ordeal was finally over and watched as one by one the boys headed off to get changed so they could go home. She lingered at the edge of the pitch for a while, watching them disappear through the doors, still half expecting Nick to appear out of nowhere, flinging an arm around one of his teammates, bouncing around the way he used to, even after a long practice that left everyone else tired and miserable.

Once she’d gotten all the equipment put away and headed out to her car, she couldn’t help but wonder how one student could have such an impact on not only her life but those around her. The school felt different without him there. In the classrooms, the hallways. On the pitch, the lack of laughter and energy she could usually count on from him. It was strange how one person could make the familiar feel totally unfamiliar.

Taking a deep breath, Priya tightened her coat around herself as she unlocked her car, trying to shake the weight that had been building in her chest throughout the day. Reminding herself that she’d be at home with her wife soon enough but there, in the back of her mind she kept thinking about her failure and what she could do to be better. She had to keep listening. To keep looking. She had to keep being more than just a coach to those boys, just a teacher to the other students. It was too easy to brush off clear signs that something was wrong, assuming it was typical teenage behaviour but Nick had deserved better than that, all the students did and she swore to herself she wasn’t going to let it happen again. Not if she could help it.

Chapter Text

His mum had called him early that morning. Not texted, but actually called him despite her learning years ago that he probably wasn’t going to pick up because he was at uni.. he was busy. Her voice had been tight on the other end of the phone, too calm, like she’d practised the words that were coming out of her mouth before she said them out loud. The way her voice shook was unlike the woman who’d raised him. It took a few deep breaths before she said the words, ones that made him roll his eyes because of course it was about him. Like everything always was. When he didn’t respond right away, she repeated herself. Nick is in the hospital. Something had happened to him. Or he had done something to himself, if he understood what she was trying to say without actually spitting it out.

David had sat there, phone pressed to his ear, not saying much. What was he supposed to say? She hadn’t given him any details. She kept begging him to come home if he could. He could still hear her voice in his head. David, please. I need you here. He hated hearing her sound like that. It reminded him too much of his childhood, when his family was still.. well, a family, and his parents would be down stairs arguing in hushed tones, not wanting the kids to hear.. and maybe Nick hadn’t, but he always had.

Now he was sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the mess of clothes on the floor, trainers half-buried under the hoodie he’d been wearing the night before. He should be pulling that hoodie back on, getting ready for his morning classes. Instead, he was stuck in a loop of his own thoughts. Go, don’t go. Stay, carry on with his life like normal, or drive back and walk straight into.. whatever was going on at home. Something he rarely did because he had his own life now. It wasn’t his problem. Nick wasn’t his problem. He had always been the golden boy, everyone’s favourite. If he’d fallen apart for whatever reason, that was on him and it had absolutely nothing to do with David.

And yet he hadn’t stopped thinking about the way his mum’s voice had sounded that morning. How scared she must have been and just hearing her like that caused a feeling of uncertainty in his chest.

David dragged a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated groan. “It’s not my job.” He muttered, like saying it out loud to no one in particular would make it true.

Though he was trying to convince himself not to go, he looked over at his car keys that he’d thrown on his desk the night before. He picked them up, tossed them onto the bed before grabbing his hoodie, tossing that there too. His trainers? He yanked them on, lacing them half-heartedly. The rest of his clothes were shoved into his backpack, zipper straining against too many hoodies, too many t-shirts and the books he’d barely opened since starting school. He had no idea how long he would be gone for and he had no intention of wearing whatever shitty clothes he’d left at home the last time he visited, ones that were sure to be out of fashion by now.

His flatmates would probably call him overdramatic if they were home, making a big deal out of one phone call about a brother that he didn’t even like. That he’d spent hours complaining about. Mama’s boy crying over something so stupid, they’d laugh. Maybe you’re more like him than you want to admit. He’d tell them to fuck off, shoving their shoulders halfheartedly. David almost smiled at the thought, then rolled his eyes at himself.

He grabbed his backpack and headed towards the door, pausing for a second. His hand lingered on the handle, staring back at his room like it held the answers to questions he hadn’t even thought of yet. If he stayed, mum would ring again, voice sharper this time. I asked you to be here, David. He’s your brother. He could argue that they hadn’t been brothers in years and it’s not like them having the same blood running through their veins meant anything. It was supposed to be their dad she was calling, asking him to come home to be with his son and since David was a betting man, he’d put good money on him claiming he had to work and couldn’t make it. The same excuse he’d been using since they were kids.

He shoved that thought down, slammed the door behind him and marched to his car like he was still in control when in reality, he’d lost that control as soon as his mum called him. It left him feeling weirdly off balance. With a heavy sigh, he slid into the driver’s seat of his car and tossed the backpack onto the passenger seat before starting the engine, already regretting his decision to go and he hadn’t even pulled out from the flat yet.

The morning sunlight caught on the dashboard, a glare that made him squint, sighing in frustration. He’d finally pulled out from his building after sitting in the car for fifteen minutes, muttering under his breath the whole way to the main road, thinking about Nick and hating himself just a little for thinking of him at all. The car hummed under him as he drove, engine louder than it needed to be, windows down a crack so the wind could take some of the thoughts that were plaguing him with it. He kept one hand on the wheel, tapping the fingers on his other hand against his thigh. His mind refusing to think of anything other than his little brother and what could have possibly happened for him to do whatever the fuck it was he did. It had to have been rough for him to end up in the hospital. Nick hated the hospital, he had always been a big fucking baby.

but.. it was Nick they were talking about.

The golden boy. Captain of the rugby team. Perfect student. Mum’s little angel and now, apparently, a fragile fucking mess.

David snorted, rolling his eyes at the thought. As if Nick had ever had a rough day in his life. He doubted his brother knew the meaning of that word. He’d always had people watching his every move, praising him, making excuses for him. He always presented himself as the good one. He had their mum wrapped around his little finger. He had popular friends before he ditched them, and a boyfriend he loved to try and save, playing the hero but he’d gone and fallen apart anyway and a small part of him enjoyed that. Finally he wasn’t perfect. David wasn’t the only screw up anymore. Even though the youngest Nelson had always been set up to be the perfect son— maybe now everyone would see that he wasn’t so perfect after all.

Nick had always been coddled by their mum, she had always made sure he had things easier because he was the youngest, and far more sensitive than David had ever been or would ever want to be. Whatever happened probably wasn’t even that bad. Ever since he met Charlie he had become a right drama queen. Maybe they’d broken up and Nick was taking a leaf out of his book and doing this for attention.

David’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he thought back to the phone call with his mum. He had no idea what she meant when she said it was serious and if he were being honest, he didn’t want to know. He told himself it didn’t matter because from the sounds of it, he was going to be fine. He’d show up, mum would calm down, he’d go home and feed the dog and he would be back at uni come Monday morning, like nothing ever happened. His life back to normal. Nick could go back to being the perfect son while all this was brushed under the rug like most things in their family were. This time, they’d all know it was fake though, the amazing Nicholas Nelson having fallen from grace.

David turned on the radio, trying to block out another thought that snuck into his head without warning or his permission. Maybe Nick’s life hadn’t always been as perfect as it seemed. It wasn’t the first time he caught himself thinking that. Usually it was only a passing thought that he dismissed quickly but now, he couldn’t get it out of his head. Maybe all the smiles, all the trophies, all the praise— maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe that Nick, the one everyone loved so much had never existed. It certainly wasn’t David who had their mum on the phone to her other son scared out of her mind. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be that scared if he were the one laying in a hospital bed right now. Would she have called anyone in a panic like she’d called him? He doubted it. He wasn’t the one everyone perceived as perfect.

He slammed his palm on the steering wheel. He was being ridiculous. Of course that’s who Nick was.. who he’d always been. That golden, polite, annoying little brother he’d been competing with from the moment he was born.. or maybe it was after their dad left, he couldn’t really remember much about that time of his life. It didn’t matter. Nick was the one who always knew the right answers, wore the right clothes, said all the right things, smiled at the right times.

But then there were those little moments that would pop into his head, ones he weren’t sure were real or something he’d made up. They were hazy but when he closed his eyes, he could see it all clearly. See him clearly. Nick, no older than six, sitting on the stairs, his face buried in his hands while David had been too busy stewing in his own anger to notice. The quiet pleading looks he’d give him when he mocked him for being scared or weak. The little sighs when he’d tried to reach out and David had pushed him away, claiming he was too old to be playing with little babies. As they got older he’d hear Nick pacing in his room at all hours of the night. There was even that one time he swore he heard him crying but he hadn’t checked on him, he’d just put his headphones on and ignored it.

He shook his head harshly. No. He couldn’t think about that now. He hated thinking about those moments. Nick had always been infuriating and he wasn’t his dad, he wasn’t the one who was supposed to be looking after him.. he had nothing to feel bad about.

Yet the memories wouldn’t leave him alone. His chest felt heavy as he considered the idea that his younger brother might have needed him. He had always been there, looking at David for any scraps of positive attention, and he had gotten nothing but jokes, eye rolls, and dismissals for his effort. He couldn’t pinpoint when Nick had stopped waiting for David to be the big brother he had wanted. That he thought he deserved for whatever reason but he knew it had happened early on.

David’s grip on the steering wheel loosened. He blinked hard, trying to shove the weird feeling that was building in his chest down. He didn’t know how to process it. How could he be angry at Nick and also feel like he’d completely failed him at the same time? It made no fucking sense.

The road stretched on, straight and empty, sunlight glinting off the tarmac. He could turn around now, go back to uni and forget about all the thoughts that were piling up on him, tell his mum he had an important test on Monday and couldn’t make it. He wasn’t above lying to her so he could get out of the situation, it wouldn’t be the first time, but no matter how much he wanted to.. he didn’t. He just kept driving, thinking about those stupid memories from when he’d lived in the same house as Nick.

He tried to push all those thoughts away. It wasn’t possible for him to have been wrong all those years. That there was more to his brother than meets the eye and yet David couldn’t shake the flicker of doubt that had been clawing at his chest. That flicker grew into a memory he didn’t like to think about. A wobbly voice calling for him, but he had been too busy, too full of himself to pay attention. That was the real Nick. The Nick who didn’t win trophies. The Nick who just needed someone to lean on when he was struggling to deal with his emotions.

David shook his head again, reminding himself over and over again that he wasn’t responsible, like some sort of mantra. Like if he said it enough times it would magically be true but the words sounded hollow, even to him. He hadn’t thought about those little moments in years, he’d shoved them aside as insignificant like most things were to him at that time. When he was a kid, having just watched his family break apart. Now they were fighting to be remembered, forcing him to consider that Nick wasn’t just the annoying little brother he’d always resented for purposely stealing their parent’s attention and love. There had been more to him at the time— and maybe there was more to him now.

David sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room, trying to concentrate on his comic book, but the words blurred as he held back his tears. He wasn’t supposed to cry, that was for babies but it was hard not to, but he was doing it so he knew his dad would be proud of him.

His dad was meant to be coming home from Paris. He had promised. A whole week spent doing whatever they wanted, but he’d called mum that morning to say he couldn’t make it. Something about work and a meeting that couldn’t be rescheduled. Mum was shouting down the phone so he’d retreated to the living room to read. David’s stomach twisted. He’d been looking forward to seeing him— showing him his latest drawings, telling him about the rugby team he’d joined a few weeks ago. Dad always noticed when David did well. Sometimes he felt like he was the only one who cared.

Nick was standing in the doorway, looking small and uncertain, holding a crumpled piece of paper like it was something special.

“David..” he started. “do you think— do you think dad will come another time?”

David frowned, annoyed. He snapped the comic shut, glaring at his younger brother. “I don’t know. Probably not. He’s busy. Just like always.”

Nick’s bottom lip trembled. “I.. I thought maybe he’d come this time. He said he’d—”

“Oh, come on Nicky,” David said sharply, standing up. “Stop being a baby. He’s got important work. He can’t just drop everything for us.” He repeated the words his dad had said multiple times over the last year.

Nick’s eyes filled with tears and he turned away, gripping the doorframe like he might fall over without its support. “O-okay.” He whispered, his voice wobbling as he stumbled down the hall, sniffling the whole way.

David watched him go, irritation prickling his skin. Why did Nick always have to act like it was the end of the world? He wasn’t seeing their dad either and he wasn’t acting like a little baby. Even though he had comics he wanted to show him, rugby to play in the garden, a dad who actually cared about what he did. And Nick.. Nick always got attention, got fussed over, even when he did nothing to deserve it. Even when he cried and whined like that. It wasn’t fair.

The sound of Nick’s sniffles got louder, and for a moment David felt something he didn’t want to name. A tug in his chest, but he shoved it away hard, turning back to his comic, telling himself that Nick was fine. He always was. He had Mum fussing over him, dad’s absence shouldn’t matter to him. David had to be good, had to earn the attention he received, though sometimes he didn’t even get it then so he stopped bothering and instead tried to get attention in other ways, ones that ended with him in his room and mum not happy with him. Usually whatever he did was to Nick which only made things worse.

He hated feeling guilty about it, he hated how much it angered him to watch Nick’s tiny, defeated figure struggling to take in deep breaths. David rolled his eyes again and muttered under his breath, “Stop being a baby.” Assuming he was just being dramatic and doing it for their mums attention, like always.

He pretended not to see Nick peeking back around the door, wiping his eyes, staring at him with a quiet, helpless look that would have made any other persons heart ache. Not David’s though, he simply ignored his brother’s cry for help, opening his comic back up, pretending to read it until Nick retreated back to his room with the understanding that David wasn’t going to comfort him.

He probably never would.

David’s fingers flexed against the steering wheel, blinking against the sun that was sure to set soon. The memory of the morning their dad bailed on them lingered, sharp and uncomfortable, like a bruise he’d never noticed before but now he knew it was there he couldn’t help but poke at it. He pictured Nick’s face. The little brother he’d dismissed, the one who had peeked back around the doorway with that helpless look.. like the only thing he wanted in that moment was his big brother. He could still see it, and it made his jaw clench uncomfortably.

He tried to ignore it like he always had. It was years ago. Nick had always bounced back. Always smiled. Always got what he wanted. Always played the perfect son role and he was only a kid himself back then. He didn’t know that his brother was probably having some sort of panic attack. It wasn’t his fault. He continued to repeat over and over again but the memory wouldn’t leave. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake them off. They were no use to him now. He couldn’t go back and change anything so what was the point of thinking about it? David frowned, turning the radio up louder, trying to silence his thoughts with the blaring music.

The hours passed in silence, old memories resurfacing that had David reluctantly reevaluating how he saw Nick. Of course his opinion hadn’t completely changed. He still thought he was being fucking dramatic half the time and this new revelation that maybe things weren’t as easy for him as he thought didn’t mean that much. Nick still had it better than he ever had so he didn’t understand why he couldn’t just suck it up and get on with it. Despite those thoughts, there were others buried deep inside. The ones that told him he should have done more. He should have been there for his brother when he needed him but he tried to ignore those ones, not willing to admit that he was in any way at fault for their non existent relationship.

He kept driving, eyes fixed on the road ahead despite them getting heavy. David decided he was going to go to their house, have mum come home and talk to her about whatever was going on but he went past the turn that would lead him there and it took him only a few seconds to realise he was on route to the hospital he hadn’t planned on visiting while home. Heading toward the brother that he’d never really understood. Towards the guilt that he’d only just realised he’d been carrying since they were kids.

The engine cut as David parked in a spot that had taken over ten minutes to find, deciding to sit in the car to calm down from the sour mood that had left him in. He knew he could leave. Go back to the house, make himself something to eat, take Nellie for a walk before playing his brothers switch while he waited for his mum to come home. He could send her a text telling her he was there and wait to see what she wanted from him. He didn’t do any of that though, he simply sat there in his car, glaring up at the building and for the first time since finding out about the situation, he realised he was nervous. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t. He just had no idea what he was about to walk into and what state Nick would be in. He’d convinced himself it couldn’t have been that bad but now, faced with the hospital, he was doubting himself. Maybe pretending to be perfect for so many years had finally caught up with him.

Just as he was about to get out of the car, he glanced over at the entrance of the hospital and immediately spotted someone he recognised. Someone who had threatened him in his own house during a dinner between their families.

Tori Spring.

He had no idea she was close with his brother or why she would be visiting but that became clearer when Charlie appeared from the doors a few seconds later. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he watched his brothers.. boyfriend wipe his eyes but something inside him shifted as he watched the teenager fall into his sisters arms, his body shaking with what he could only assume were sobs, his face hidden from view and Tori just.. let him. She stood there at the doors of the hospital, surrounded by people, holding him tightly as he fell apart in her arms and the sight made him swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. Unable to tear his eyes away from the display.

He couldn’t imagine being like that with Nick and for a moment he found himself wondering if things might have been different. If he hadn’t been such a dick all those years. If their parents hadn’t separated. If David hadn’t taken on the cruel personality he had to keep Nick at arms length. If Nick hadn’t decided that he needed to be perfect at absolutely everything. Maybe they could have had a relationship like that. He could have been the person Nick talked to when he was struggling. Maybe then they wouldn’t be there, at the hospital.

Maybe what happened was a little bit his fault.

David sighed, leaning back in his seat as he adverted his eyes from the Spring siblings. From the moment he found out about his brother being gay.. or bisexual. Whatever. He had decided he didn’t like Charlie but there hadn’t been a reason for it other than hating the person he assumed had turned his little brother gay. Bi, he reminded himself. Clearly Charlie really cared about Nick, shouldn’t that be what he wanted for his brother? He had no idea why he was so against the two of them in the first place. Maybe it was because he figured his dad would have been against it or maybe it was because it was yet another thing Nick had that he didn’t. Not a boyfriend, he wasn’t gay, but a relationship. Not ready to face the fact that he might actually be jealous of Nick, David glanced back over to the entrance, noticing Charlie and Tori were gone which meant he could head in without being noticed.

He was still nervous about going inside, unsure that Nick would even want him there, but he was there. Maybe even part of him wanted to be there. That had to count for something, right?