ANIMALS [Mitch Grassi fanfiction]

22

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. "Mitch? Are you in there?"

It took him by surprise. The bottle fell on the floor with a crack and the pills scattered on the floor.

"Mitch?" The voice sounded cautious, as if something terrible was about to happen. He quickly glanced towards the door but soon enough the pills on the floor captured his attention again.

Someone was banging on the door now. Beau? How did he get there? Mitch thought he wanted to be out of his life, at least for a while.

Oh yeah, maybe Scott has mentioned something like calling him. He had no exact memories of that though. There was a weird fog on his brain that couldn't really let him think.

Somehow, he felt calm. Or maybe too terrified to process it anymore.

What was he about to do?

Yes, the pills. They were on the floor and his hand was empty.

"Mitch, what the fuck?! Open the door!"

"Mitchy? Are you alright?" This one sounded a lot like Scott. Just a bit more panicky.

Mitch wanted to live. That's why it was so terribly hard. Those pills on the floor- If he was staring at them long enough, he could feel the suffocating fear again. He really did want to live. He wanted to write songs, to preform, make photoshoots, drink wine with his friends and visit his family. It felt like he hasn't done them in a forever time. He didn't know when this all has started.

But now probably someone was on his way to kill him. There were only two options left: he was either going to wait for him or end it all by himself.

"Mitch, please, before you do something stupid just listen-"

He couldn't keep his focus long enough to make sense of what they were saying.

He didn't want to die. Not yet. He didn't want to be murdered.

What if that man was going to find him dead and kill his friends or Beau out of rage? He needed to protect them. Even if they would never believe that they were all in danger.

Mitch took a breath. There was no way he could escape. Beau, Scott and Mark were there. He might could leave later but first he needed to get out of the bathroom for that.

Could he call the police still? Maybe if he says that he's about to kill himself? Or would they call the ambulance instead?

For a moment a memory crossed his mind of his sister and him playing hide and seek in the garage. He was around six years old, haven't even met Scott yet. Their dad, Mike was always so angry when he had found them between the boxes of tools and old stuffs that they didn't even know why they were keeping. It was dangerous, Mike said. He didn't want them to get injured.

Funny how little Mitch believed that kind of a hide and seek was dangerous and now he was trying to escape from being killed.

His family. His parents. He couldn't leave without saying goodbye. That would wreck them. Did they know about anything that has happened in the past few weeks? Cause Mitch kind of forgot to keep a decent contact with them. The sudden wave of guilt left him breathless.

He turned on his heels and opened the lock of the door.

***

Scott was just about to break the door when they heard the lock opening. He was the closest to the handle so he immediately pushed it down, terrified of what he was going to see. His face was wet from tears and he watched as Beau passed by him and rushed inside. For a quick second he felt a weird kind of jealousy biting him: wasn't he supposed to be holding Mitch the way Beau did? Scott knew Mitch better than him. He was his best friend since they were ten.

A sob escaped through his lips. He only thought he knew Mitch well enough. Why did he let him walk into that bathroom alone? He saw the pills scattered all over the floor. It was all his fault. Mitch nearly killed himself because of his selfishness. He went back to the kitchen to argue with Mark about some nonsense bullshit. How could he look Mitch in the eye ever again?

"I'm sorry, baby. It's too risky to believe you this time," he heard Beau saying. Mitch was crying. Everyone was crying. "I'm calling the ambulance."
"I promise I didn't take anything!" Mitch was desperate. Of course, Beau didn't want to listen to him. None of them knew how many pills were left to count if Mitch was telling the truth.

Scott had never thought he'll ever have to listen someone making a phone call about his Mitch possibly overdosing himself with meds. He was a failure as a friend. A failure as a human. Somehow they ended up here and Scott didn't know what he was doing wrong. He thought he made the best decisions for Mitch. Seemingly they weren't working. Mark must've sensed something because suddenly he felt his arms around his waist.
"It's going to be alright, even if it looks like everything's falling apart. You have to believe in this, Scotty," the boy mumbled. Scott turned around and hugged him back.

Everything was falling apart. What now?

***

Beau's phone rang. It was the police department, so he picked it up in case the ambulance gave them a call for some reason. He couldn't remember the name of the officer, he couldn't pay attention on the details while his boyfriend was possibly dying is his arms. Mitch's face was pale as a ghost and he clearly started to lose energy. He wasn't fighting anymore, just let the silent tears roll down his cheeks. It terrified Beau.
"I'm calling in relation to the break-in that has happened not so long ago. We have someone that could be suspicious, someone even saw him snickering around Mr. Grassi's home lately so-"
"Excuse me, can I call you back later?" Beau interrupted.
"My apologies, sir, but there's a chance that he was the arsonist, too and we have to hurry this up in order to-" the officer tried but Beau turned him off again.
"Doesn't matter right now, the house is burnt down anyway. I'll call you back later." And with that, he cut off the call.

Mitch was shaking and his hands were cold. Beau unconsciously pulled him closer, at least trying to warm him up somewhat. He knew that if Mitch has attempted suicide, he won't be out of the hospital without consequences. If he wanted to be honest... He didn't know how either of them was going to handle that. He had no idea how life could go on after this. Mitch was alive in his arms, yet he felt like a part of his soul was gone.

The sirens from far away became louder. Scott and Mark weren't in the doorway anymore. Heavy footsteps could be heard from the living room and soon the paramedics appeared in the bathroom.

***

After all, Mitch wasn't lying. He didn't overdose himself, that's what they said. Though they added that he was in a state of shock and dehydrated. They couldn't get any information from Mitch so the doctor ended up asking Scott, Mark and Beau about what has possibly happened. Beau told him about the break-ins and the fire which satisfied everyone somehow. The doctor decided to let Mitch go home so he could spend the night at a place he was familiar with. Of course, he highly recommended Mitch searching for a mental health professional and Beau was mad.

They were all praying for him to visit one for weeks.

"Mark, have you seen the keys of the front door?" Scott asked after they settled down at home again. Beau was with Mitch in the guest room, they were probably about to fall asleep so Scott didn't want to bother them.
"I was looking for them, too. They might vanished while there was this chaos with the ambulance and everything- Anyway, I took the spare ones," Mark lifted a bunch of keys. Scott gave a kiss on his cheek and Mark used this to cup his boyfriend's face between his hands. "Hey, everything's going to be alright. It has to. None of this was your fault, okay?" Scott looked down but Mark forced him to make eye contact again. "We all have to pay a little bit more attention on Mitch. Things are going to work out just fine. He's so loved by all of you and he knows that."
"You're right," Scott forced a smile. "I have to stay positive. Love you so much."
"I love you, too!" Mark smiled back.

He hung the spare keys on their place and followed Scott into their bedroom. They had time to find the lost ones tomorrow, right?