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God, my head hurts. Pretty soon I'm just going to swallow my fear and ask Jake what the fuck we are because I have too much other shit to deal with without also overanalyzing every little thing he says and does.
Dr. Singh opens the session before turning his focus on me and Carter, since we're the only ones who haven't been here in a while. "Casey, Carter, how are things going?"
I stare down at my hands, clenching them hard in my lap as I play the words I've rehearsed in my head over again. Just say them, Casey. Just say it. Just… get it out there. Then it's over.
"Good," Carter answers when I take too long. "Really good. I started a class at the university and I got a bartending job. I'm making friends. It's… good."
Good? Nothing is fucking good for me. The tiniest part of me is angry at him for not being the same. I hate that part of me so much I shiver with the intensity of it.
Dr. Singh talks to him about his nightmares and anxiety, Carter getting a little defensive as he says everything isn't magically better, but he's handling it. I nearly laugh as I think of how badly I'm handling my own shit. In fact, I don't even think I can say I'm handling my shit at all now that I've turned to Jake. Maybe Dr. Singh can sense that because he turns his gaze to me and asks, "And you, Casey? Are things going well for you?"
"Things aren't… as good as Carter," I mumble, still staring at my hands. This is it. Say it, Casey. Just tell Carter. Tell him.
"Not as good?" Dr. Singh asks. "Does that mean things are still good though?"
It'd be so easy to lie. To shrug and say yes, things are still good, I'm handling everything well.
"I'm - uh - it's…" I peek at Carter, flinching when I find him looking at me. I quickly drop my chin. I can't tell him. "It's o-okay."
"It's not," Carter says in realization, my stomach plummeting at his words. He reaches out, carefully placing a hand over mine. They start to tremble beneath his touch as I force myself to suck in deep, shaky breaths, trying my fucking best not to cry. He knows. Without even saying it, he knows. "It's not okay at all, is it, Case?"
I choke on a sob, shame and overwhelming relief piling on top of each other. I shake my head, unable to say the words, to tell him he's right. He grabs me just as my first tear falls, holding me close and whispering apologies for not noticing.
"I can't go back," I tell him, the words awful and soaked in grief. "I can't - I'm scared I won't - I won't s-survive. I don't want to survive."
Carter holds me harder, his grip bruising. "Fuck. Fuck, Case, I'm so sorry. Of course, you'll stay here. Of course. We'll take care of you, yeah? You're gonna be okay. We'll both come back."
"No!" I pull away, shaking my head fiercely. "No, Carter. You have to stay. You're doing so fucking well. I won't ruin that. I can't ruin it. I'll never forgive myself. You have to stay. You're so fucking happy there. I love that. I don't want you to lose it."
"I can't leave you all alone!"
"You aren't," someone says. I look over to find Nolan sitting forward, his eyes glassy with barely contained tears. "You aren't leaving him alone, Carter. We're here. We'll take good care of him. I promise."
"We will," Bryce says.
Matt nods, firmly in agreement.
Even Dr. Singh is nodding, a soft smile on his lips. "I think it's best you continue your own journey, Carter. You can still support your friend without hindering your own recovery."
"I-" Carter looks around, taking in all the faces, then nods slowly. "If you're sure, Case."
"I'm sure." I give him a wobbly smile. "Besides, I've got Jake."
Carter laughs softly. "Yeah. Yeah, you do, don't you?"
I definitely do. Any doubt in my mind is erased when Carter walks me to the kitchen, hand in mine, and Jake is waiting just like he promised. He looks unbelievably relieved to see me, shoving off the stool he's perched on and coming straight to me. His left hand finds my hip, his right hand cupping the side of my neck. He brushes his thumb along the underside of my jaw, his blue eyes intense as they search my face for anything that could be wrong. "Alright, little one?"
For the first time in a very long time, I finally feel just that. "Alright."
Dr. Singh comes looking for me a few hours after Carter has left, finding Jake and I in the pool swimming lazy laps and soaking up the quiet of the dim room. My stomach dips as Jake excuses himself, giving me a supportive smile and telling me he'll be in his room when I'm done. I start to get out too, but Dr. Singh puts up a hand. "We can stay here."
"Really?"
"I've had sessions in much stranger locations, I assure you." He chuckles. It's a nice sound. He's nice. I don't know why Carter hates him so much. "Unless you'd like to go to my office? Wherever you're comfortable."
"Here would be nice."
"Here it is then." He sits down, not seeming bothered by the pools of water on the tile ledge. He removes his socks and shoes and rolls his pants to his knees before sliding his feet into the pool water. His ever-present journal is set to the side. "How are you feeling today, Casey?"
