Preston's P.O.V.
Ever since I had first met Vikk, he had always been tiny. Like, really tiny. He was shorter than me and all of our friends, skinny as anything that sometimes made me concerned for his health and despite his tiny statue, he was actually unfit. I wasn't entirely sure if unfit was the word to use considering he seemed to work out on a regular basis but he seemed to be in pain if he had to run and slowed to a stop often, which I knew from videos.
Going to London hadn't been my plan and it was kind of an accident that I even ended up there but Vikk and his friends still opened their house and guest room for me. I was incredibly grateful for it and did my best to thank them by preparing meals, cleaning my room or the kitchen, or offering to edit videos if they needed it. All of them worked far too hard, but none of them more so than Vikk.
Vikk... didn't seem to stop working. He was either recording or editing or planning a recording session with someone else, and if he wasn't doing that he was eating, working out or, for a far too short period of time each day, sleeping. He was constantly fatigued, sometimes falling asleep at the dinner table if it was particularly bad, and even in the first week I was with them it happened twice. None of the others looked concerned about it but something inside was screaming, this was bad, this shouldn't be happening and I needed to talk to Vikk about it.
I had to wait until the next morning because after dinner, at which he had fallen asleep, he had taken himself upstairs and passed out on his bed. I didn't want to interrupt those few precious hours of sleeping so I simply left him be, knowing how important they were to his health.
He was up before I was, already recording by the time I trudged down the stairs for breakfast at 9am. I sighed, peering around the door, unnoticed, at him. God, did the kid ever give himself a break?
I ate my breakfast, steeled myself and then went up to his room, gently pushing open his door. Vikk was lying back in his chair with his hands covering his face, looking so damn miserable that my heart sank for him.
"Vikk?" I whispered, catching his attention. "Hey, are you okay?" He glanced up but then looked away again, groaning quietly. "What's up mate, something's wrong, I can tell. You're tired and look burnt out."
"I'm just tired." He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I'll be fine Preston."
"Are you sure?" I went and sat down on his bed. "You look more than a little tired and you really don't look like you'll be fine."
He gave me this look, an evil eyed glare that made it very clear he didn't want me asking questions, but I continued because I knew I would have to press him. I knew him, I knew he would push himself to the upper limits of what he could do and if he was acting like this then either something was wrong or he was on the verge of breaking.
"Come on Vikk, I know you better than that." I whispered. "Something's wrong and there's something you aren't telling me. Either you've been pushing yourself for too long or something's wrong, and I want to know what."
His face just... crumpled. So I was right on both standards, he had been pushing himself for too long and something was really wrong. He had kept it in for too long with no one to talk to and now that I had bothered to push just a tiny bit it all fell apart underneath him. He sobbed himself to the point of hysterics in my arms, only calming down when I rocked him back and forth and got some water into him.
"Shhhh" I whispered, arms tight around him. "It's okay, it's okay, I've got you."
It took almost an hour for him to calm down, sniffling weakly and clinging to me every time I tried to move. I kept trying to reassure him, that I wasn't going anywhere, but he didn't seem to trust that. His tiny hands dug into my skin, probably leaving marks. Once he was finally calmed down I began to ask gentle questions, wondering what was going on that had made him so upset.
"Can you tell me what's going on now Vikk?" I asked, running a soft hand through his hair. "Please, I'm worried about you." He finally nodded, resting his head against my shoulder.
"Ab-about 6 months ago I went to my doctor because I'd been in quite a lot of pain just... constantly. It was constant pain all the time and I didn't know what was causing it, I was fatigued all the time, I either couldn't sleep or slept far too long and I always woke up feeling tired, I kept forgetting things, couldn't focus and there was no reason for it to suddenly happen. Everything just... started and I didn't know why." Tears were beginning to fall but he was still lying against me, words continuing to gush like a waterfall. He was clearly just so glad to get it out.
"I got a diagnosis." He hiccupped. "Fibromyalgia. There's nothing they can do to cure it, only manage it. Cause of my family history it isn't likely to go away."
It took me a moment to comprehend it because I actually had no idea what fibro- fibromyalgia was, or what it could do.
"You probably have no idea what that means do you?" Vikk laughed wetly, wiping his eyes. "It's a disorder that basically means a whole bunch of pain, lots and lots of pain. Uncontrolled pain that has no reason and no order. I've been told to take pain relief that you can buy at the supermarket, I have a prescription for anti-seizure drugs that apparently help and I go to physical therapy when I can cause apparently swimming helps."
"...You've been holding that in for a long time, haven't you?" He nodded. "God Vikk, I can't imagine what's been going through your head recently. Just... I'm glad that you're following what your doctor's saying but... Jesus I don't even know what to say."
He giggled a little at my blasphemy because I never swore, but he was still crying.
"How about we stop for a bit, rest. Okay?"
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We managed to sleep for another few hours, Vikk tucked up in my arms. While he was sleeping I did a little research on fibromyalgia to see exactly what I was dealing with and how much the condition would be effecting his life. He woke up about half way through and watched me scroll through article after article, eyes only half focused on the words I was reading.
"Vikky... it says here that a good sleep schedule and getting plenty of sleep can help manage the pain." I said, staring at the screen. Vikk sighed deeply.
"I know, my doctor told me that." He mumbled. "But I've been using work as a way of coping and sleep has honestly been the last thing on my mind."
"Vikk..." I sighed, nudging him closer. "Your health is more important than work in every case, don't push yourself when you need a rest. Give yourself a break."
He smiled a little bit.
"Maybe, maybe."
