dichotomy ; gawsten

thirty seven

"I can't do this."

"Geoff."

"No, really, I can't." He tugs at the collar of his shirt, tangles his fingers in the fabric and clenches it in his first. "I'm not ready. No."

His heart is racing. It's been pumping out nausea since he went to bed last night. He didn't sleep. He couldn't. The sickness is heightening with every new beat of his heart. It's like there's no more blood in veins; it's panic and nausea and ohmygodI'mgonnadiepleasestopIcan'tbreathenonono.

He wants it to stop. It hurts so much, all the time. He keeps disappointing everyone and he knows they're tired of him but he can't help it he can't stop it's too fucking bad he doesn't know what to do he wants it to stop he needs it to stop it's too much he can't take anymore.

He knows he needs this. Jawn doesn't have to convince him anymore. He remembers when he did, remembers the 2am phone calls, remembers sobbing about how fucked up he and life and everything was until all Jawn could do was tell him to get help. He remembers Jawn not being able to do anything, say anything, be anything more than a record playing the same tape on infinite repeat. He remembers going on, crying about the world and his life and the fans and waiting for a response and only hearing snores. He remembers every time he hung up the phone, biting back a sob so hard it hurt, staring at the wall and trying to think of when his life had gotten so fucked up, wondering if it would, if anything would ever be okay again.

"...can do this. It's gonna be okay, I promise." He zones back in to only hear the tail end of Awsten's speech, feels him squeeze his hand and bring it up to his lips. He moves his gaze from the concrete up to Awsten's eyes, takes in the blue from his hair and how it matches the crop top he's wearing, lets his eyes travel down to the skirt and blue tint on his fingernails. He keeps staring at Awsten, makes mental notes of his outfit and tries to keep his focus on that, take his mind away from the racing heart and churning stomach and shaking hands.

He picked a beautiful one.

"Thank you," he whispers. He takes Awsten's other hand and steps forward to press their lips together. He feels Awsten smile into the kiss. He shifts against him, gets on tiptoe and wraps his arms around Geoff's neck when they pull apart. "I just- I'm so scared..."

"You're gonna be okay," Awsten says softly. "I know him, remember? He's amazing. He knows how anxious you are. He knows how to help. And you deserve his help, okay? Please try to remember that."

"I know," Geoff mumbles. "I just- I don't- rehab was so bad and I don't want this to be too and I don't know what he's gonna say what if he tells me I'm so fucked up he can't help what if it doesn't work what if I'm-" He pauses, breathless. His chest is empty. It feels hot. Something is dripping own his back and sticking his shirt to his skin. There's no more air he doesn't have any more air fuckfuckfuck- "What if I'm too fucked up to be fixed?"

Awsten's arms tighten around his neck. "Stop. You're not, okay? You're not broken. There's nothing wrong with you. You're struggling and you need some help. Everyone needs help some time. It doesn't make you fucked up."

"I just-" He swallows thickly and moves his hands to Awsten's waist. "Ev-everyone says that. That I should fix whatever's wrong in my head so we can get back ta touring. I see it. All the time. And I just- I don't wanna be broken anymore, I guess? I don't- I don't know." His throat is closed. He's choking on more tears. There's a lump housed at the back of his throat that's dangerously close to popping.

"You're not broken," Awsten repeats, firmer this time. "There's nothing to 'fix'. Anyone saying that is scum of the fucking earth and doesn't deserve to be a fan of you. You're beautiful and talented and kind and you care so much about everyone around you. You love so hard and take care of everyone you love and write gorgeous songs that make people feel less alone and give them something to relate to. You make people happy, Geoff. You make me happy. The world, my world, is a better place with you in it. And that warmth you said I make you feel? You make so many people feel that every day, especially me. You've helped so many people. You deserve to help yourself. You deserve to feel better. You deserve some good, Geoff. And this is a start. And I am so proud of you, okay? You don't even know how proud. And I'll be right here when you're done. You can tell me everything or nothing or we can go sneak up on Otto and bother him, after this. Whatever you want."