#burden of feeling such intense，suffocating displacement and loneliness. i did not ask to feel these negative emotions so strongly.

[rjhpandapaws]

A Hand in the Matter

Ch6: ... I Wouldn't be Adverse to Trying

//Warning(s): detached sense of self, depression, out of control thought spiral, self harm, rationalization of self harm, low self worth, suicidal ideation.

Richard was confused and scared. He'd experienced both emotions before, but he'd never felt both at the same time. He was unsettled in a way that seemed heavier and more permanent than his other bouts of more intense emotion. His world felt like it was irreversibly and simultaneously tilting on its axis and shaking apart. Richard was left in the free fall.

He was still pacing his apartment, he'd stopped counting the rounds at ninety-nine. A perfect number, a double that would bring him good luck. He paced from his front door to the far wall of his living room. A path that kept him from bumping into or touching anything. Nothing would be moved from its place. Everything had a place. Things would be fine as long as nothing got moved.

Richard didn't have a place in his own life any longer, meeting Gavin had violently dislodged him from it. This was Gavin's fault. Had he not met Gavin he would still have his place. If Gavin was no longer part of his life things would go back to normal. No more clinging. No more late night conversations. No more pictures of Franklyn. No more movie nights. No more coffee meet ups. He would be back to normal. His world would stabilize. He would be alone.

Richard didn't like being alone. It was unpleasant. It clung to him like tar, an ever-present reminder that knowing him was more effort than it was worth. Gavin would leave on his own eventually. The loneliness would pull Richard under again and this time he would drown.

At somepoint he had stopped pacing. He needed to get away from these thoughts. Why had he stopped moving? He needed to think, thinking was difficult. Something close to him was playing music and something else was vibrating against his chest. Why? Was it his phone? Someone was calling him. It would be rude not to answer.

Oh.

It was Connor. He didn't want to talk to Connor. He would worry. His worry was stifling. Like the loneliness, except his head was being held down by someone instead of something else pulling him under. He stared at the phone until he missed the call, cleared that notification as well as the one for the voicemail that followed it. He should let Connor know he didn't want to talk. That's what a good brother would do, thats what Silas would do. Was Richard still a good brother? He didn't think so. He should text Connor and tell him he doesn't want to talk.

Me: Stop calling. I don't want to talk.

Connor: Richard?

Connor: is everything alright?

Richard opened both messages so the would go away. Nothing was alright. Connor was being annoying and Gavin was insisting on sticking to him. They both should go away, but if they went away he would be alone. If he was alone he would drown. He didn't want to drown. Dying that way was painful. He put his phone on silent and put it back in his shirt pocket, back in its place.

He looked down the hallway and scratched at his wrist, it was grounding. His left, so no one would see if it bled. He was tired. He should sleep. Sleeping would help. His wrist was becoming raw, the sting would keep him from drowning. Pain was good company. He would be fine with it if he didn't wake up. He would no longer be Connor's burden. Gavin would be free of him, and his loneliness would be gone. It would be calm and quiet because there would be nothing. His wrist was bleeding now but that was fine. He just wanted to rest. If he woke up he would deal with it then. He nodded stiffly and made his way to his room.

He hated this room. It was a prison. Clean and unlived in. Everything had a place. This was not his. He liked the couch better. Couches were for company. He didn't have company. No one was allowed here. It was not their place. It wasn't his. He would make it his.

That thought brought with it anger, the anger moved him. First to his dresser. He pulled violently on the top most drawer, knocking something off the top of the dresser. It hit the ground and broke, Richard didn't care. He pulled the clothes from the drawer tossing them away from him as though they were worth nothing. When it was empty he slammed it shut. He did this until the dresser was empty. From his spot on the floor he stared at his closet. He didn't like that either.

The metal doors opened too fast, the sound was grating and he didn't like it. He needed to get rid of them. They were to heavy, they would have to stay. He pulled the clothes from their hangers. Some of them tore, he didn't have it in him to care. These were thrown into the room too. Being angry was exhausting. Being was exhausting. He should lay down. Sleeping would turn all of this off. His mind would be quiet. He didn't want to wake up, he wanted to stay in the quiet. Numb silence was safe.

He got into bed on top of the covers. He pulled the soft throw from the foot of the bed up over him. This would be enough. He closed his eyes and his thoughts screamed. They were too loud. Too much. He didn't want them. He wanted silence. He wanted to be numb. He didn't want to wake up. He didn't want to be alone.

Gavin didn't like him. Gavin was using him. Gavin hated him. All of this was Gavin's fault. He didn't want to think about Gavin. He didn't want to think. He wanted to sleep. He didn't want to wake up.

A sob wracked his frame, it was chased by a frustrated groan. His thoughts wouldn't stop. He needed to make them. He needed to get them out. They had to go away. He sat up and wiped his eyes, the movement hurt his wrist. It was grounding. He did it again. This was Gavin's fault. Gavin didn't like him. Gavin was using him. Gavin hated him. No one ever stayed. Gavin would leave and so would Connor.

His thoughts were too loud and only getting louder. He opened his nightstand and got out his notebook as well as the pen that sat beside it. He wrote out his thoughts. Kept writing them, covering the pages until the loop finally stopped, ground to a hault because of exhaustion. He set the notebook aside and put the pen where it wouldn't be lost. Nothing had a place anymore. Not Richard. Not his things. He wanted to sleep. He didn't want to wake up. His mind was finally quiet. He could sleep. He laid down and the dark didn't take long to claim him.

Sleep was a mercy, he didn't dream, or if he did he hadn't remembered them, but he did wake. It was unpleasant. His arm hurt and he didn't know how long he'd been down for. His phone was no longer in his pocket. It must have fallen out as he slept. When he found it he looked at the time. He'd slept through the night apparently, it was eleven in the morning. He had several texts from Connor, each progressively more worried than the last. He opened them so the notifications would go away. Gavin had texted too. Richard didn't like that. Gavin was the cause of all this. He needed to go away. If he wouldn't do it himself, Richard would do it for him. This was Gavin's fault.

Gavin: we still meeting at the cafe today?

Gavin: asking because I'm running a little late

Gavin: you're gonna need to grab the table.

Gavin was using him. Gavin was not his friend. Gavin was a liar. Richard had known all along. He did not want this anymore. This was all Gavin's fault. But Gavin also didn't know better. Everyone he had met used him. Gavin was no different.

Me: I think you should find another tutor.

Me: its nothing personal Gavin.

And it really wasn't, not against Gavin anyway. He was only doing what everyone did. Gavin was at fault for being nice, and Richard was just as much as fault for getting attached.

Gavin: was it something I did?

Was it something Gavin had done? He'd stomped into Richard's life and acted like he belonged. Dislodged Richard from his routine. Had Gavin not done that Richard would be fine. Alone but alright. That spiral of destruction had at least been slow. Now his whole world was in upheaval. Nothing had a place anymore. Not Gavin, not Connor, and not Richard. He felt like he was free falling onto a pit of spikes.

A new message popped up from Gavin.

Gavin: text Connor please, he's worried about you.

Let him worry. He dropped his phone off the edge of the bed. He didn't want to deal with it anymore. Not Gavin, not Connor, and not this horrible feeling of displacement. He just wanted to sleep. He didn't want to wake up. It wasn't worth it. None of it was. The loneliness was suffocating, but the alternative was an unknown. Richard didn't like unknowns.

He wanted to go back in time, to that second day and tell himself to steer clear of Gavin. To change his schedule. Anything to keep from having met him. Being alone had to be better than this. Yet the thought of going back to having no one felt bitter. But bitter had to be better than abject terror, it had to be. He couldn't stand living like this.

Richard drifted, his thoughts began to lose traction until they stopped and he slipped under again. The silence of his sleep was oppressive this time. It weighed down on him. It was not rest, this was uneasy. He slept restlessly waking up, only to be pulled under again before he was fully coherent. The next time he woke up was because something was wrong. He couldn't place what, but something had changed. He curled in on himself tighter, trying to make his lanky frame as small as possible. If he kept still long enough, surely it would pass and he could get back to sleep. Perhaps the third time would be the charm, as they say.

There was a knock on his door. Three light taps before it creaked open, someone was there. If he didn't respond they would probably go away. He didn't want to be seen.

"I'm going to turn the light on." That was Connor's voice. Why was Connor here? Richard had made it clear he didn't want to talk to him. As promised the bedroom light came on a few moments later.

Richard sat up and let his eyes adjust. He kept the blanket in his lap, running his fingers over the softness, grounded by that and the slight sting it brought to his wrist. There were two people in his room, one was Connor and behind him was Gavin. Why was he here? This was his fault. Hadn't he caused Richard enough pain already?

'Get Out!' He signed harshly, but it was no lower the grounding sort of pain, it was sharp and reminiscent of the anger he was feeling. Better to show is anger than his fear, 'Leave'

Gavin backed off a step, flinching away from him like he was afraid. Richard had mixed feelings about that. Satisfaction because perhaps now Gavin would leave, and, apprehension because now that Gavin was here a part of Richard wanted him to stay. Gavin wouldn't meet Richard's eyes. Gavin knew this was his fault then. Good.

"Can," Gavin's voice sounded tight, small, and unsure. He kept his eyes down. "Can you at least tell me what I did wrong?"

Everything. Gavin had done everything wrong. He had stayed, had the nerve to look at Richard like he was worth something. Like Richard was his friend rather than a means to an end. Like everyone else Gavin had used him, but it was worse this time because Richard had fallen for it. He had given in with the hope that this time would be different. Then he had time to think about it and tried to push Gavin back to a safe distance, but Gavin wouldn't budge and now he was here. He wanted Richard to be miserable. Gavin was not his friend.

'You Lie.' He closed his eyes to keep from seeing Gavin's reaction and to hold back against the emotions that were bubbling to life in his chest, 'Not My Friend. Only Want Teacher.'

"I... you're my friend Richard." Gavin sounded like he was in physical pain, "I never meant for you to feel like this. I want to fix it."

'LIAR!' A sob rattled up and out of Richard's chest, he was late to cut it off and his tears spilled over without his permission, anger melting into pain and fear. Making him weak. His signs were becoming sloppy, "Not My Friend. Now Leave.'

"Alright. If you want me to go, I will." It barely registered over the hurt that Gavin was listening to him. People didn't tend to listen to Richard, they had better things to do.

Connor's voice cut across that train of thought, it came from much closer than when he'd first spoke. Richard hadn't heard him move. He was too close.

"No Richard, he stays." Richard turned to look at Connor who was beside his bed, with Richard's personal notebook in his hands. He was reading it. "He was the one that said we should come by. He cares about you and is worried for you."

Richard was much more concerned about the notebook, those were his thoughts. He grabbed for it, moving too fast and getting dizzy, 'That Mine. Not For Him! No Showing.'

"I am going to show him Nines, it is about him after all," Connor's tone was a mix of kind and chastising. "You have said your piece. Gavin deserves a chance to say his."

Richard watched Gavin as he read over the page, he didn't know which of the few it was, but it looked like it was making him sick. Guilt ate at Richard, starting loud and violent before settling down to rest along side the sadness and fear in his chest. When Gavin looked at him again he was crying.

"I... I don't hate you." He rubbed at his face, wiping away his tears though his voice was laiden with tears, "and I'm so, so sorry for whatever I did that made him feel that way."

Richard signed, trying and failing to keep his hands steady. They were messy and he knew Gavin would need Connor's help, but he needed to get this off his chest before it suffocated him.

"You stayed, no one ever stays. Not for me." Connor paused to compose himself. He took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm not worth the effort. Its too difficult to communicate with me. So no one stays. People don't like me. I'm not worth knowing."

Gavin looked at Richard like he had said something personally offensive. "I stayed because I like you. You're smart, quick with a joke, and nice to have around," Gavin caught his breath and stepped toward the bed keeping the notebook with him. "I'm not the easiest to get along with either, and people aren't quick to hang around. But you did."

Gavin tucked the notebook under his arm freeing up his hands, 'You Taught Me Your Language.'

Richard felt a storm of things all at once, he couldn't decipher them all, but fear was there. It was familiar, Richard took it and ran, letting Connor pick up the slack. He needed to get these feeling out. They were too much to have all at once.

"You don't know me." Connor narrated, keeping his voice as level as he could, "I am not my brothers, I am not kind. People are difficult and they cause me stress. You do not, being around you is nice. I am not used to it, it scares me."

"You're right I don't know you all that well, but I still let you into my home, showed you my cat, and let you eat your way through my fridge. I only tolerate that kind of behavior from my friends," Gavin took a breath, finally setting the notebook down, he continued speaking as Richard grabbed it. "You're right. You aren't Connor and that's what I like about you."

Connor rolled his eyes at that, the serous mood lightened some. Richard still felt like he was in free fall. All of this was new to him, but listening to Gavin was comforting in a way that he hadn't felt before.

"You're Richard. You leave me on read until I send you pictures of Frankie. You text me at ass o'clock in the morning because you think that if you're awake I should be too," the life was coming back to Gavin slowly. Despite him talking like Richard was worth something, the terror of the thought wasn't as all consuming as it had once been. Sitting face to face with Gavin, Richard almost believed it, "you come to my rescue when I get in over my head. You push me to be better and I need that more than you know. So you're absolutely right, I may not know you well, but I wouldn't be adverse to trying."

Richard was reeling. Gavin liked him, apparently enough to come crashing into a space that wasn't his to ensure that Richard had a soft place to land when things fell apart. It was strange in that it was something new, something he didn't understand. He was unsure, but Gavin seemed sincere but also afraid.

Richard turned to a blank page in his notebook and dug around for his pen. He wrote quickly and it wasn't as neat as he would have otherwise liked, but he needed to know. He flipped the book toward Gavin.

'Do you mean it?' Richard didn't want to risk being lied to. It seemed too good to be true, people didn't do these kinds of things for him.

"Of course I mean it dipshit," Gavin tried to give his usual smile, even without the confidence it was still sincere. "I may be many things, but a liar isn't one of them."

Richard began spilling his thoughts, confessing to everything. Gavin trusted him it was only fair that he did the same. Then he crossed it out, these were his to bear, Gavin wanted a friend not a burden. So next he wrote an apology. For what he had thought, what he had felt, for worrying Gavin, for being a burden; and crossed that out too. It would only upset Gavin again. He settled for thank you. It wasn't enough, and it never would be, but it was the best he could give for now.

'Thank you Gavin. It means more than you know. I'm sorry I worried you, but having friends is difficult and scary. I will try not to do this again but I can't promise anything.'

"Then don't promise," it was said kindly but didn't leave Richard to argue is point that, this was his burden to bear not Gavin's. "Ask for help. Connor is here for you, I haven't met your other brother but I'm sure he is too, and so am I. You're not alone. Not anymore."

Richard wasn't so sure, Connor and Gavin surely had better things to do. Even at that they had still come to him and at least tried to pull him out of his own head. Gavin didn't know what he was stepping into, but still seemed sure of himself. It comforted Richard and he gave a weak, tired smile. He would try, even if it was just so Gavin didn't have to see him like this again. He wouldn't have to face this alone, but having someone see the worst of him seemed just as daunting. Gavin was nothing if not stubborn, he would drag Richard back to his feet if needed. He could do this, if not on his own then with help.