After this — https://breannastoryworld.com/2020/10/09/molly-in-lockdown/
My emotions were still heavy, even if I'd cried some of them out. Vulnerable for the first time in weeks, I couldn't detach from Gabe after he finally broke me. He didn't mind — he crawled into bed next to me, arms wrapped around me rubbing my back, and occasionally my stinging bottom.
When my sniffles finally died down, Gabe said, "Get cleaned up. We're going to have a videocall with Toby."
More feelings surfaced (along with regret that I'd gotten rid of the numbness). "Noooo... I don't wanna talk to him!"
Toby. Not even the doc. Gabe is serious.
"Why not?" He tucked my hair behind my ear so I'd have to look at him. His concerned expression made me melt.
"He's gonna be mad and yell at me and make me feel guilty and I don't wanna have feelings anymore." The little space just came out so naturally. I snuggled closer to Gabe, wanting him to protect me.
"If he makes you feel guilty, I'll take care of it. But he won't. He's worried about you, just like I am. And he's the expert in this, so we're going to call him." He squeezed me tight, sensing that I was about to argue again, so decided to follow up with his demand. "Now are you going to get cleaned up, or am I going to have to bathe you myself?"
Oof... I blushed so hard, burying my face into the sheets. Too many feels.
"After the call, we'll order dinner and you can show me that videogame you're always talking about."
Smiling felt like becoming reacquainted with a long lost friend. The idea of showing off my guitar hero skills made me kinda happy, another sign of little space. I'd gotten so much practice lately, since it's the only thing I could focus on at night when I couldn't sleep.
So I rolled out of bed, still rubbing my bottom. Part of me wanted to ask Gabe to just go ahead and bathe me. Taking care of myself is just so much work. But the funk I was in wouldn't allow me to believe that he would actually enjoy it as much as me, which would make me feel guilty, and if I could avoid a shitty emotion, probably better to.
Gabe tossed me my phone as I stood in the doorway. "Listen to our playlist — I added a few songs."
I'd forgotten how epic showers are... and how much I like indie music (lately my playlist of choice was metal). My fingers were pruny by the time I decided to get out, fresh and peachy-smelling. I took a quick glance at my bottom in the mirror — there were red stripes all the way down to mid thigh, kinda pretty actually. I ran my fingertips over them, only snapped out of my trance when my music stopped. I hit play again and braided my wet hair, then slipped on my blue hello kitty T-shirt and tiny purple shorts. I exhaled a sigh of pleasure as I opened up the door of the steamy bathroom, fresh cool air hitting my face.
Gabe waited for me in the bedroom, which was now spotless and full of sunlight. "Were you hoping if you took too long, we wouldn't have to make this video call?"
My tummy twisted into knots and I shook my head, lower lip poked out. "But it would be nice if we didn't call."
He held his arms out and I went towards him, sitting on his lap and snuggling up. And that worked for a minute, but then he pulled out his phone, opening facetime. My heart pounded, and I sank into the couch, hoping to stay out of camera view.
Toby looked really good — he wore scrubs and a mask pulled down to his chin. Even though he was a psychiatrist, he'd become an essential worker in the hospital doing other (regular) doctor stuff. I'd expected him to have his typical half-scowl towards Gabe, but actually his eyes were really kind, and concerned. He had really been taking care of himself.
Suddenly I wasn't out of camera view anymore and he was speaking to me. "I've been really worried since I found out you haven't been working. I'm really glad you're okay."
"I'm sorry," I said, teary-eyed, looking down.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?"
I hesitated. "Not really...."
"We don't have to. Is there anything you need from me? As a friend, or as a colleague."
"I've been feeling... like doing something stupid...."
I glanced up to see if he had a reaction, but his face remained low-key concerned, not freaking out. He understood what I meant by that. "Have you made a plan?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Kinda, I dunno, I won't do anything. Life sucks. Work is so hard. How can I help others get better when I can't even handle my own shit."
Gabe's arm was still around my waist and he squeezed me against him, saddened by my sadness.
After a few seconds of silence, Toby spoke. "Molly, you're not in trouble. Please take all the time off you need and take care of yourself. I know you don't want to hear this, but that means using good coping skills, taking a break from smoking."
I squirmed as Gabe's body tensed up next to me. He was probably remembering the drawer full of empty vape cartridges. Or me testing him by taking a hit off my pen while he was standing right there.
"I don't wanna take a break. If I have to be in this apartment sober, I will definitely end up killing myself."
Gabe wanted to respond to my comment, but held back, letting Toby keep the lead. Something I didn't see from Gabe often. He really had gained a lot of respect for Toby. When did that even happen?
"So don't stay in that apartment."
"Umm... last time I tried to leave, I got yelled at for potentially spreading the virus."
Now Gabe spoke. "You're coming with me to the beach house. There's plenty to do to keep you from wanting that shit. What do you think, doc?"
Toby nodded. "The beach would be great, sunlight will help with the depression."
They both looked at me. I wasn't sure if I even really had a say in this, but that's okay. I felt so cozy having my friends take care of me. So it was settled — after dinner and Guitar Hero, I'd pack a suitcase and head east with Gabe. Open space. Sunlight. Ocean waves. Hot tub. One of my favorite people ever, and all of his attention. If that can't cure my depression, nothing can.
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