+ Positively Negative - | Freddie & Joey

14. Freddie + When Worlds Collide [Part Three]

If there is any of the music videos I suggest that you listen to, let it be this one!! Please, play it while you're reading-- it's amazing, and it really fits the story!

P.S. --It's going to be the First Dance song at my wedding.. >:D

---RECAP

‘Sorry I got you worried,’ I sighed.

‘That’s okay. What are sisters for?’ she asked. I chuckled.

‘I’m not entirely sure, love you Lou.’

‘I love you, Freddie. Be safe.’

‘I will,’ I said softly as I pulled the phone from my ear and ended the call. I walked to the bed lethargically and slumped back into the warmth. As soon as I hit the sheets, Dmitry latched onto me.

‘You have to go…?’ His voice was muffled against a pillow and my arm.

‘I think so. But this isn’t the end, is it? Dmitry?’ I looked at him. He turned to the window again, staring out at the moon. I couldn’t help the needy panic that ate at me. ‘It’s only the beginning, isn’t it?’

+

‘Here we are!’ Dmitry said, extending his arms towards the door with over-exaggerated flourish. I smiled.

‘Finally.’

When we got in, we climbed up the stairs to the second floor from the top. The flat was actually bigger than I expected, and flashier than it appeared from the outside.

Dmitry rolled his eyes when I told him, ‘Yeah, the guy is rich, and likes to make sure everyone knows it.’ He pulled me into the room that acted as a living room and modern kitchen-dining, only divided by sleek counters. ‘Want a drink?’

‘Water please.’

‘Of course,’ he threw we a quick grin as he got two cups from a cupboard and filled them with water. ‘You can sit, you know,’ Dmitry said as he turned to me and handed me a cup. He gestured to a grey minimalistic barstool and we both sat opposite each other. I touched the tips of my fingers to the cold marble, stopping myself from grabbing Dmitry’s hands. We’d practically held hands the whole time, but I needed more. I already missed the feel of it. The reassuring warmth it brought.

‘So… Are you going to tell me what happened when you left?’ he asked.

‘Nothing much,’ I muttered. Dmitry raised an eyebrow. ‘I, well I left… And my dad was a dick to me. He got me a psychologist and stuff. My sisters were kind of supportive, but most of them were much older -are much older- than me, and I didn’t see them a lot anyway. I was…’ I paused, unsure whether I wanted to go back to that area of my life. Just the thought of it got my heart beating erratically... The pills, the night’s that threatened to engulf… I pulled my hands off the marble surface and into my lap, my rough, bitten nails digging into skin in an attempt to distract the memories from drowning me. Just for a little while. But Dmitry had been honest with me…hadn’t he? ‘I got a bit depressed,’ I decided.

Dmitry’s eyes widened, but he was slipping from my vision. Suddenly, the various psychiatrists, psychologists and “converters” were crowding me. People who promised to help, to give me things that would numb the pain… People that promised me happiness I could never again regain until I got Dmitry back…

“Mr. and Mrs. Lewis, your son, Freddie, needs help. I am afraid he is suffering moderate to severe depression. He is a danger to himself, and could become a serious danger to others in time. The self harm and alcohol abuse is only worsening. I’m telling you, he needs help.”