In Another Life

Twelve

A/N: First of all, I'm so sorry it took me so long to publish this chapter! Feel free to blame Scott and Mitch, because I swear every time I had free time to write they'd instantly start doing another live.me. Also: panic attack CW again. This chapter is pretty much the exact opposite of uplifting lol, so I'm sorry for that too.

Mitch always likened the after effects of a panic attack to a hangover.

It was a lot worse and a lot less worth it, of course. But otherwise they were very similar.

He was reminded of exactly why he made that comparison in the first place as he woke up feeling weak, dizzy, nauseous, and still on edge; all with his head still pounding as it had been the first time he woke up that morning.

Last time Mitch had checked, he'd been on the ground having a major panic attack. But now he was in his bed curled up in a tight ball, with someone quite a bit bigger than him holding him tightly from behind.

Mitch would be slightly alarmed by that fact if he didn't also have a vague memory of Scott joining him on the ground at some point during the whole ordeal. He must've cried himself to sleep and then got moved onto the bed by Scott.

After a moment, Mitch slowly and carefully rolled over so that he was facing him.

He was surprised to find Scott with eyes wide open looking totally alert. He'd expected him to be fast asleep – but it appeared that Scott hadn't actually napped at all.

"Hey," Mitch said. He cringed immediately at the sound of his voice. He didn't know how long he'd been crying, but it had been long enough that his vocal chords were in pretty bad shape.

Scott smiled just a little. "Hey, Mitchy," he greeted him, reaching up to gently smooth Mitch's bangs out of his face. "How are you feeling?"

Mitch snorted humorlessly. "Terrible," his voice scratched.

Scott nodded. "I probably didn't need to ask, did I," he mumbled. "Do you wanna talk about what happened?"

Mitch took a shaky breath at the question. He'd been trying really hard to avoid thinking about it, but the events of that morning instantly flashed through his brain at Scott's question.

It was enough to bring tears to the corners of his eyes. "Not really," Mitch answered. However, he continued to speak anyways. "You were right."

The dread was visible on Scott's face. "About what?"

Mitch looked away before he answered, too ashamed to meet Scott's eyes. "Blake," he whispered.

Just saying it was painful. And Mitch wasn't the only person to have a bad reaction; Scott's body went tense as soon as the name left Mitch's lips.

"What did he do to you, Mitch?"

Mitch squeezed his eyes shut. "He cheated," he forced out. "I found him this morning, he was– he was in bed with another guy," he explained, voice cracking.

"Fuck," Scott breathed out.

Mitch's lip quivered. "He was supposed to be in love with me," he said, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks.

That was all it took for Scott to pull Mitch against his chest in a bone-crushing hug. "I'm so fucking sorry, Mitch. I'm so, so sorry."

Scott sounded choked up now too and Mitch couldn't help but feel guilty. He wished he could do something to make him feel better, but he was too helpless to do anything but cry softly into Scott's chest.

After a while he finally managed to calm down somewhat. "It's not your fault," Mitch sniffled.

"I should've done a better job at protecting you. I knew he was a dick."