dichotomy ; gawsten

sixteen

"Hey Aws, what's up? Do you wanna-"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He tries to keep the tears out of his voice but they creep in anyway. His voice breaks at the end. His throat hurts. The ache in his head has crept down to his chest, melted and permeated the wall to sit deep inside. It feels like a boulder, rocking side to side on top of the pain and sending out more sparks every time it moves.

"Whoa," Jawn says. "What're you talkin' about? Did something happen?"

"Fuck yeah something happened." Awsten white-knuckles the phone and digs the nails of his other hand into his palm. "You. You happened."

"Awsten, what the hell is goin' on?" He can hear Jawn a lot more clearly now. He sounds confused. "Why are you mad at me? What the fuck did I do?"

"You don't know why Geoff's in such a bad place?" His heart is pounding. The phone is shaking in his hands, sliding around in his grip. He moves his pinky under the device to keep it from falling and takes a breath. He's trying so hard. He's trying so unbelievably hard not to lose it and curse Jawn out because it's obvious he doesn't know what he did but it's so fucking difficult because how the fuck could he not have realized how the fuck did he not know what he was doing was wrong how the fuck was he such an idiot. "You told him he has nothing to be depressed about and called him lazy when he couldn't get outta bed and you don't know why he's in such a bad place?"

He hears Jawn sigh. It's silent for a few moments. He starts to say something and stops at least three times. "Aws, I...I was wrong. I know I was. I was a dick and I can't take it back but he knows I'm sorry. He knows I love him."

"No he doesn't!" Awsten snaps. "He fucking doesn't! He thinks you don't give a shit and from what he told me I think he's right! You don't give a shit. You just want him to be happy so you can stop worrying and get on with your life, right? Depression doesn't fucking work that way- mental illness doesn't fucking work that way."

"You needa calm down," Jawn says. "Jesus christ Awsten, it's not like I told him to kill himself. I said I was sorry. Don't you dare tell me I don't care about him. He's my best fuckin' friend. Do you have any idea what hell I went through after he tried to fuckin' off himself?"

"His was worse," Awsten mutters. He inhales again and lets his head fall back against the wall, closing his eyes. His heart is beating so fast. He feels it, that on-edge, can't relax feeling. It's like his skin is on fire and he's going up in flames. "You don't get to complain about how bad his suicide attempt was for you because all you did after was stick him in a mental hospital and go on with your fuckin' life."

"He needed therapy-"

"He needed someone to sit down with him and ask him what was wrong and not judge him for it or make him feel like a fuckin' problem. That's what you did. You shove him in therapy or rehab without giving a second fuckin' thought to what he wants. Did you ask him? What he needs? Did you ever fuckin' think to ask?"

"He needed help, Awsten." Jawn's voice is firm. "He still needs help. I didn't think you'd be able to fix everything because I know you won't. He's sick and he needs help. We can't do anything else for him. And we can't help him if he doesn't wanna help himself. He fought me every fuckin' step of the way, no matter what I did. So what was I supposed to do? I was scared, Awsten. I was so fucking scared. I didn't want him to try again. I did what I thought was best for him."

"Did it help? Any of it?" Awsten asks. He forces his voice into calm. His heart is still racing and his hands are still shaking but he forces himself to sound steely calm.