Charlotte and I ran back into the main room the moment we heard crying. There he was, curled up in a ball sobbing. He looked so helpless. And...scared.
"I do-I don't know! I went to go get a spoon to get him quiche and-and," Cordelia was also crying. I felt anger swell inside me. It didn't matter that Delia didn't do it on purpose.
"Well clearly you did something!" I snapped, instantly regretting it. "Sorry Delia, I just. Did you hit him with the container or something?"
He looked so helpless with his face covered. His sobs filled the room. Charlotte was gently patting his back. She wasn't the best at emotional stuff. She was a doctor, after all.
Then it clicked. Holy shit- he was having a panic attack. I recognised it now. It was the exact same thing I do. Hiding my face, curling into a ball, and shaky breaths.
Help. I need to help him. But how? What did I need when I had an attack?
I need to be told it's all okay.
"Hey, Whizzer." I spoke quietly, trying not to sound aggressive. "Everything's okay. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it is."
I need to know I'm not alone.
"Charlotte, Cordelia, and I are all here for you. We're not going to leave you."
I need to know I'm safe.
"No one here is going to hurt you. We won't make you do anything you don't want to do."
"I'm sorry. This-this is so stupid," he blubbered out.
Cordelia turned to her wife and whispered something into her ear. Charlotte nodded, then walked to the bathroom. Delia then sat down on the opposite side of Whizzer. Guess we're tag-teaming this.
"It is absolutley not stupid!" Cordelia tried carefully not to brush against him again. "Something terrible happened to you and you have every right to be upset." Cordelia looked back up at me and made a face like, 'your turn now.'
Shit. My turn? I've always hated comforting people. No, not the 'making people feel better' part, but the fact that there's so many places where you can go wrong. Do you listen or do you talk? Do you distract or do you talk about what's going on? It's just a lot to consider, especially when one wrong move can make everything worse.
Cordelia must've seen my inner turmoil, because she adds, "And I know that Marvin isn't the best with words, but you should totally see his face right now."
My face? What was wrong with my face?
Whizzer glanced up for a split second, obviously happy for the chance to make fun of me. And in that split second I saw his red eyes with all of the hurt, all of the shame that he's been hiding so well written plain on his face. I felt my heart wrench. All I wanted to do was help. Help make such a pretty soul feel better. But just like that, he hid his face again, leaving the rest of us to wonder what was happening.
I heard a mumble come from him, followed by both him and Cordelia laughing.
"You're right. It does look like he's been kicked in the dick."
"Hey!" I protested, feeling my face go red.
I heard footsteps behind me, and Charlotte came back with a box of tissues. She set it in front of Whizzer, who finally came out of his ball. He took a tissue and wipes his eyes. "Thanks guys," he sniffled, avoiding eye contact with me again. Why did he keep doing that? I didn't do anything wrong.
The Lesbians™ smiled, and Cordelia stood up. "Now if you don't mind, we have some work to do," Charlotte's voice had a finishing tone to it. "See you at the game, Marv?"
I nodded mindlessly.
"Oh! And Whizzer," Cordelia started, "we usually have dinner tonight, so I need to know if you'll be joining us."
"I don't have anything better to do."
They both smiled sweetly, Delia giving me a comforting pat on the back before leaving.
A comfortable silence fell over the house and I sat next to Whizzer, leaning my head against the wall.
"Hey Marvin?" Whizzer's voice was quiet. I could barely hear him.
"Yes, Whizzer?"
"I've missed you."
...
"I've missed you too."
~* Whizzer's POV *~
After that truly desperate show of emotions, I decided my next plan of action would be to get ready for the baseball game. I had, in fact, been been planning a grand entrance. I'd walk in fashionably late with a leather jacket on. Marvin would then notice me, do something awkwardly gay, I'd whip off my sunglasses and somehow win the game. Then I'd win Marvin back and-
Wait, what? That was not part of the plan. EVER.
...
Right?
"Marvin, do you have other clothes I can wear?" I asked, looking into the kitchen where he was serving the quiche that I had forgotten about.
"Uhm. Yeah. There's some on the floor in my room."
I nodded, walking to his room. I opened the door to the dark room. I flipped the light on to reveal the room I had lived in for nearly a year. It looked exactly the same, minus a few more of Marvin's shirts lying on the ground. And there they were. A few of my shirts, right where I left them. Untouched, as if to preserve them. As much of a disaster as the rest of the house was, there my clothes were.
I shut the door quickly behind me. Not that I didn't trust Marvin not to walk in, but I couldn't help it.
~*~
When I finished changing, I heard I slight buzzing noise. After a small bit of investigation, I found what I could only assume was Jason's phone. On the screen was a notification.
Ryan in Baseball
Cant wait to loose another game.......lets hope jasons dad doesnt starts yelling at us again
I rolled my eyes, then opened the phone, needing to know what Jason had my contact as, silently promising not to peek at anything else. The first thing to pop up was:
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I couldn't help but smile. I walked back out of Marvin's room, after quickly checking my hair in the mirror.
"I found Jason's phone. We'll have to give it back to him at the game," I waved the phone in the air.
"Alright. You can eat the quiche in the car. We're going to be late."
