the kind that's never done

part two

Apollo doesn't jump straight back into his full streaming schedule right away. Honestly, he isn't sure if he'll ever get back to daily ten hour streams, or if he even wants to.

For now, he's taking it slow. A few hours a day at most, and he's trying to take rest days at least once or twice a week.

He's trying to be "proactive" as his therapist told him.

Also at the behest of his therapist, he's trying to be less closed off. Human connection is important, and that means actually talking to people.

Apollo hadn't realized before, but he never really just... Talked to people. Just text conversations with people about what they've been up to, what their watching, what's happening with their lives. He always used to save that stuff for the streams, for banter.

It's nice to just talk to people for the sake of talking to them.

Most of his friends are enthusiastic about this change, which makes him feel less self conscious about how bad he is at initiating conversation, but no one seems as enthused as Steve.

After that first exchange, it seems like the floodgates have opened. Steve is constantly texting him about something his roommates did, or how his dinner was, or the fact that a mosquito attacked him on his hike today. It's nice. And it also gives Apollo a realization. Steve was worried about him. Really truly worried.

If the dozens of messages Steve had sent during Apollo's absence weren't enough, Steve's frequent messages asking how he's feeling today certainly clue him in. It's nice. Steve is a dumbass, and stupidly funny, and it makes Apollo feel really good that he cares about him. It also makes him feel guilty that he made Steve worry, but his therapist has repeatedly told him about how guilt like that isn't helpful for anyone. He tries to let it go, and is moderately successful.

After a month of this, he feels like he's genuinely making progress. He feels so much better than before. He also doesn't want to be naive, he knows that this sort of thing doesn't just go away in a single month, but he's cautiously optimistic.

He feels good, and he feels like his relationship with Steve has gotten so much closer, all his relationships have gotten better, really.

And, well. He's itching to tell someone what happened. It's not that he wants to get a weight off his chest, exactly, but he hears the way people talk around his break, he sees it, and he want to tell someone, at least one person, what happened. He wants someone to know why he took that break, so that he isn't alone in this feeling. And it's maybe selfish, but he's working on being a little bit more selfish. His therapist says that that's okay, too.

So, one night, he and Steve are chatting over discord. The new season of I think you should leave just came out, and they've been talking for an hour or two about it. They've reached a lull in the conversation, and Apollo can tell that this is the point where they either find a new topic of conversation, or say goodbye and hang up.

Apollo doesn't really think of himself as a coward, but he isn't brave either. He's certainly never been this brave. He doesn't know what it is that makes him say it, if it's the way Steve has been so nice and supportive despite not even knowing what's wrong, if its the way Apollo is half asleep, yawning and comfortable in his bed while he holds the phone up above him.

He isn't sure exactly what combination of factors gives him the strength to open his mouth and blurt out:

"I tried to kill myself."

He says it quietly, and he isn't sure if he could bare to speak even a decibel louder in that moment. Steve looks like he's been shot. His expression is blown wide, frozen in shock, and it would almost be comical if it weren't for... Well...

Steve recovers quickly, and his face crumples into something sad, and tender.

Steve let's out a quiet "oh, buddy"

Apollo can't stand the softness in Steve's face, just then, so he pushes on.

"Yeah, I, well. I wasn't in a great spot really, which I guess you could tell. So I uh. Yeah. And they wanted to hospitalize me for a while, just to. Ya know. So yeah. That's why I, uh. Was gone. For a while." Apollo tries his very best to sound neutral. Like he's talking about something that happened to someone else, way in the past. Because of the slight ringing in his ears, he isn't entirely sure how successful he is.

"I'm so sorry." Steve speaks. Apollo quickly goes to protest, because, really, this isn't Steve's fault at all. Steve barrels right past, like a freight train.

"I'm sorry that you felt like that was what you should do. I'm sorry that you felt like you had to pretend you were okay. You, you could've told me. That you were feeling icky."

"Icky?" Apollo replies, almost disbelieving.

"Shut up, dumbdog, I'm trying to be genuine" Steve says. It startles a laugh out of Apollo.

"But seriously, you don't have to lie to me. Not about anything."

The raw honesty in Steve's voice makes something in Apollo break.

"I know. I know. It's just, hard. To talk about this stuff." Apollo says, trying to control the slight waver in his voice.

"It is hard, but you told me about this, and I'm real proud of you, bud. How about this. From now on, you don't lie to me about one single thing! Not even little white lies. You promise, if you're feeling bad, if you think I'm being stupid, whatever, you don't lie to me about it."

"That's gonna be really unfair during among us."

"Dumbdog." Steve says, chastising.

"Okay. Yeah. I promise."

They keep talking for a little while after that. About nothing really. The emotional ordeal of the conversation has clearly drained both of them, and they each go to sleep shortly after.

In the following weeks, they talk often. Not always about such heavy topics, but a few times they do. It's nice to have it as an option. It's nice, to have someone else know, even if that someone is Steve.