As I Fade Away, You Reach Out Your Hand

Alex woke up furious.

In fact, he was furious because he woke up.

The goal, after all, had been to sleep forever. And here he was in a fucking hospital bed with a doctor hovering over him.

Things hadn't exactly gone according to plan.

"The fuck?" he groaned angrily, looking to the doctor for some sort of answer. He wasn't supposed to end up in the hospital. He did his research. He'd taken more than enough pills to just drift off to sleep and never wake up. What happened?

"Your mother found you with an empty bottle of pills in your hand and couldn't get you to wake up, so she called am ambulance."

Figures, he thought bitterly. She hadn't put in the effort to drive him there herself, but waited for someone else to do the job for her. Not that it mattered, because either way, Alex hadn't achieved the result he'd wanted. "Where is she now?"

The doctor hesitated. "She said she was going home and to call her if she needed to deal—to do anything."

Alex knew what he'd meant to say. He meant that she said to call her if she needed to deal with him. That was how she'd always been. Why would this change anything?

When Alex didn't have a response, he continued. "I'm Doctor Merrick. I'm one of the hospital's psychologists. Could you tell me anything about why you attempted suicide?" He whipped a clipboard out and prepared to take notes.

Alex thought about it for a minute. He didn't have anything to lose, did he? "I came out to my parents and they kicked me out," he said bluntly.

"Have you ever tried anything like this before?" Dr. Merrick asked.

Alex meant to say no, because no, he'd never tried to kill himself before. What he actually said, though, was: "Not exactly."

Dr. Merrick made a note on his clipboard. "What do you mean by not exactly?"

Alex fidgeted uncomfortably. He'd never talked about this with anyone before. "I mean… I don't know. It's hard to explain. I just, there have been times when I've purposefully put myself in situations where I could've easily died, and I just didn't care whether or not I survived."

He nodded before asking, "Have you heard of the Elmwood Center?"

Alex shook his head, already not liking the sound of it.

"It's not exactly a rehab center, but it's a place where people who have attempted suicide stay and recuperate mentally. They have a staff of a dozen of the state's top-ranked psychologists and psychiatrists, and they do individual, partner, and group therapy."

Alex didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. Did this man think he belonged in a mental institution?

As though reading his mind, the doctor said, "It's not a mental hospital. It's more similar to a rehab center than I'll admit—mainly because my son is staying there now."

That was something of a relief; if he trusted it enough for his own son to be there, then maybe it wasn't such a terrible-sounding option. After all, Alex didn't have anywhere else to go. But he didn't let on that he'd already made up his mind just yet. "Let me get this straight. The son of a psychologist tried to kill himself."

"My wife and I are divorced. She has primary custody."

Right. Alex hadn't been prepared for such a quick and easy and answer. Damn it. "Well…" He pretended to deliberate. "I guess I'll do it. How long is it for?"

"Two to six months, depending on the patient. Another young man about your age will be checking in this afternoon, and I think the two of you will end up rooming together there, based on your files."

———

Alex had barely settled into his new room when the door opened and in walked a drop-dead gorgeous dark-haired guy. That could be problematic, considering the reason he was here in the first place involved coming out. Alex tried to reason with himself: just because the guy was attractive didn't mean he was necessarily attracted to him. So he tried his best to smile pleasantly when he said, "Hi! I'm Alex."

The boy offered a shrug and half-grin in response. "Jack."

Well wasn't he talkative? "So, um…" He didn't really know what to say. What kind of conversation could he start, when the only thing he knew for sure they had in common was that they'd both tried to kill themselves. That wasn't a great starting point.

Jack rolled his eyes. Not in a mean way; there was a bit of a smirk on his lips at the same time. But he turned away all the same, leaving Alex wondering why such a cute guy would try to throw everything away by killing himself.

———

That night, Alex got what was possibly the worst night's sleep he'd ever had in his life. He dreamed about the afternoon he came out. He was nervous, knowing that there was a chance his parents—no, just his mother—would overreact, or that they would see him as a disappointment. He felt like a disappointment. But he'd grown tired of holding this in, so he cleared his throat and asked, "Can I talk to you about something?"

His dad nodded before his mom could say anything.

Alex took a deep breath and said what he'd been hiding for what felt like his entire life: "I'm gay."

The response wasn't immediate. His dad looked at the floor awkwardly without saying anything. His mother stared at him for a long moment before saying, "Get out." Her voice was flat.

"What?" Alex yelped.

"I said get out! I can't have a—a—a homosexual in my house!" she fumed. Then she gave him an exasperated look. "I'm sure this is just a phase, but until it passes, you have to go. What would the neighbors think? Haven't we done enough for you? We've given you everything you could have possibly wanted, let you stay here more than a year after you graduated, and now you're turning against us?"

"This isn't a recent development," Alex said, trying to reason with her. "I've felt this way since I was twelve."

That seemed to do her in. "That's it, then. You've got a week, and you have to be out of here."

"But—"

"No buts! You chose to go against the core values of this household, and I—"

"'Core values,' my ass," he muttered angrily.

"What was that?" she shouted.

"Are you gonna tell her, Dad?" he asked, desperately trying to appeal to him. He knew that his dad wasn't as conservative as his mom. He just had to get him to stand up to her, something that never happened.

His dad said nothing, just continued staring at the floor.

"Dad, please!" Alex begged. Surely he would put his foot down and stop her from kicking him out.

"Alex, that's enough!" his mom shouted. "Go start packing! Your last week starts now."

Alex was almost out of the room when he turned again and pointed at his dad. "He voted for Obama!"

He was in his room before he heard his mother's retort. Instead of beginning the tortuous process of packing, he got out his laptop and started the research that he was sure would help end his life properly.

———

Somebody was shaking him. Hard. Alex woke up to Jack's hand on his shoulder and his worried face just a foot away from his own. "Are you okay?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Why?" He couldn't have been talking in his sleep, could he?

"You kept saying 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry' over and over and I thought you were crying." He pulled back, looking a little embarrassed for even caring.

"Oh." Alex could feel his cheeks flushing. "Right. Uh, yeah, I'm okay. Just…a bad dream. That's all."

Jack nodded in understanding. "Alright. Well, breakfast is in twenty minutes, so you might want to get dressed."

Get dressed. It sounded so weird for some reason. His mother had dropped off his clothes, but she hadn't lingered to see him. Maybe she wasn't allowed to, or maybe she just didn't want to. Either way, he hadn't seen her since before he landed himself in the hospital. He didn't have much of an interest to.

Jack was kind enough to wait for him, and they walked to the dining hall together in silence. Well, it wasn't so much a dining hall as it was a large kitchen-dining room combination. The Elmwood Center only housed thirty-six patients at a time, along with nine psychologists and three psychiatrists. There wasn't a need for a huge cafeteria.

"Wanna sit with me?" Jack asked after they'd gotten their food.

Alex was surprised, but agreed to it. Jack had seemed so disinterested last night. Where was this turnaround coming from.

For the second time in the past couple of days, it felt as though somebody was reading Alex's mind. "Sorry if I was unfriendly last night," Jack mumbled, mouth full of eggs. He swallowed. "I just—I really don't want to be here, y'know?"

He meant to nod, but he shook his head instead.

"You want to be here?" Jack asked, looking shocked.

"It's not that, not exactly." Alex sighed, trying to figure out how best to explain it. "I mean, since we're all here for the same reason, I guess you know where I'd actually rather be. But I don't have anywhere else to go."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Aren't you eighteen?"

"Nineteen, but I still lived with my parents. My mom kicked me out two days before I tried to…well, you know…" He trailed off, somehow finding himself unable to say kill myself.

"Why'd she kick you out?" Then, as though he realized he was prying too much, he added, "I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

Alex barely hesitated before giving him an answer. "Because I'm gay." Why was he finding it so easy to open to a stranger like this?

Jack's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Er, yeah. I'm gay. So, uh, sorry if that makes it weird being roommates or something."

"No, it's not that!" he said quickly. "I meant, really, she kicked you out because of that? When I came out, my parents just said okay, and then my dad tried to set me up with his boss's son."

Alex laughed. "Seriously?" He was gay? That meant he might just have a chance with that. No, he chastised himself. Thinking like that wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Yep. They've always been really cool about my sexuality. When I started applying to colleges and decided where I wanted to go, they looked into whether they typically had a tolerant or homophobic environment, and actually met my room mate before I did just to be sure."

"Wow," Alex said softly. His parents sounded fantastic. Actually, Jack's family life sounded pretty fucking perfect, and he couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly gone wrong in his life that would have made him want to end it.

———

After breakfast, Alex had his first therapy session with a woman who insisted she called her by her first name (Taylor) because it made her feel more personally connected to her patients. Besides that one oddity, though, she seemed relatively normal.

Still, Alex was having trouble spilling his life story to her. He'd been in here for nearly an hour and he couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it was about her, but there was something that made him not want to divulge anything. "What led you here?" she asked. She was just now getting to this after spending most of the session trying to get to know him and talking about herself and all of her qualifications.

"I tried to kill myself, obviously," he grumbled.

"Yes, I know," Taylor said patiently. "But what led to that?"

He figured out why he didn't like her. She was too friendly. It was sugary sweet, and he thought a therapist needed to be more barbed wire smiles with the heavy words of reality than cotton candy grins and saccharine phrases. She was too much of the latter. "Stuff at home," he answered vaguely.

She smiled at him. "Well, hopefully we'll be able to dive into this 'stuff at home' more next time, but your session is just about over, and I've got a couple things to tell you. I'm sure you've heard about partner and group therapy, right?" When he nodded, she beamed brightly. "Excellent!" He pictured her as a preteen smacking gum. It didn't take much imagination. "Well, your partner is your room mate, Jack. You've met him, I'm guessing? And you'll be in a group with him, Rian Dawson, and Zack Merrick. They're room mates, too, and they're right across the hall. The first partner meeting is tonight and the first group session is tomorrow morning. I'm sure y'all will get along just fine!" To top it all off, she was southern. He cringed when she said y'all. "I'll see you then!" And with that, he was dismissed.

———

His first partner therapy session was only slightly more bearable. Firstly, partner therapy made it sound like they were a couple or something. Secondly, it was with the perky southern belle of a therapist. Thirdly, it was just awkward as hell.

"So, we generally partner people up and have them room together because we think they have a lot in common and can help each other," she said, and Alex was again picturing her smacking a large wad of gum. "That's sort of true for y'all, but we had a bit of an issue. Neither of you opened up much prior to your arrival here, so you were kind of thrown together for two reasons. One: y'all are closed books and wouldn't give Dr. Merrick much information as to why you attempted suicide so there was nobody else to put either of you with. Two: because you're both so closed off, we're hoping you'll help each other open up more."

Alex turned to Jack. "You saw Dr. Merrick too?"

Jack nodded. "We've met a few times," he muttered, mainly to himself.

Alex quirked an eyebrow. "Really?" His first assumption, of course, was that that meant that Jack had attempted suicide multiple times. Surely that wasn't possible; he seemed like too happy of a person for that to be true.

"It's a long story," he replied.

"Sweetie," Taylor said, but not in a condescending way. It was just something she was accustomed to calling people. She'd already called Alex honey at least three times. "This is just the right place to tell long stories."

"Maybe I don't want to tell it," Jack snapped.

Alex was taken aback, and it looked like Taylor was also. Jack was such a nice person, from what Alex could gather from knowing him for, well, less than twenty-four hours.

Taylor kept her composure very well, which impressed Alex. "Well, maybe you don't, but that's what you're here for. You're here because there's something going on in your life that you need to talk about. I don't know what it is, but there's going to come a point where you have to tell me about it. Hell, you don't even have to talk to me about any of it. If you don't think you can open up to me, that's fine. We've got eight other therapists here. The psychiatrists are also available to talk. You've got Alex, or the other guys in your group. There are so many resources for you here. So when you think the time is right to tell your long story, somebody will always be here to listen to it."

———

Over dinner that night, Jack casually said, "So what about Dr. Jardine getting all preachy earlier?"

Alex shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe she's got a point."

Jack groaned. "Don't tell me she's getting to you! You seemed so resilient!"

Alex stared at him. "Resilient?"

"You know, about to spring back and not let something get to you. Like the southern charmer. I hear she can get to people really easily."

"I don't think she's getting to me; I just think she's right about needing to open up."

Jack scoffed. "I have no intention of opening up to a fucking psychologist. It's not like they care either way. This is their job. They're paid to do this. They don't actually give a damn about the patients."

Alex didn't have anything to say to that, so he just ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Sorry," Jack said after a while.

"For what?"

"For going off like that about psychologists. I'm sure they're not all bad."

Alex just shrugged again. "It's cool. I'm not a big fan of them myself."

They chatted for a while longer, just small talk, and Alex wanted more and more to crack Jack's shell open and learn more about him. The big question was how.

———

If partner therapy had been insanely awkward, group therapy was the polar opposite. It was, for lack of a better word, fun. The four of them instantly clicked, and Taylor didn't seem to know what to do with them. "We're not used to groups getting along so quickly," she told them, or maybe she just said it to herself.

The first group meeting was mainly to get to know each other, and they were definitely accomplishing that, just not in the way she wanted them to. She'd planned on more of a guided discussion. They had deviated from it almost instantly and were currently talking excitedly about their favorite bands.

Near the end of the hour, she cleared her throat loudly. "Well, y'all've learned a lot about each other's interests today, but next time we meet, it'll have to be more centered around real issues. Sound good?"

The four all nodded dismissively. They stayed in the room even after she'd left, still talking about normal things and not mental issues, because that was all they wanted to talk about, and that was what Taylor just didn't understand.

"You said your last name is Merrick, right?" Alex asked Zack.

He nodded. "Before you ask, yes, Dr. Merrick is my dad. He blames himself for this whole ordeal. I don't think he gets that by going on about that, it makes me feel guilty about it too."

Rian gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. "My mom's the same way. When I was in the hospital, she kept saying shit like, am I just a failure? and why would you do this to us? I think it's a parental thing to be selfish like that, make anything your child does all about you."

Alex chimed in, "Well, I think my mom was more pissed that I'm still on her insurance plan and therefore caused her the medical bills that go along with this. She didn't even come see me in the hospital. I mean, she called an ambulance for me instead of taking me herself, even though I know that would've been quicker. I think she was secretly hoping that they'd take too long to get there and that I wouldn't make it." He laughed humorlessly before adding, "I'm not sure if my dad even knows I tried to kill myself." That would be just like his mother, wouldn't it? Somehow neglecting to mention it to his dad that all of this was happening.

Jack was the last to comment, and he just said, "My parents are kind of used to me doing 'shit like this,' as they would call it, so their reaction was nothing new."

The other three gave him a confused look, and then something hit all four of them at the same time: without even realizing it, the four had been sharing information and 'opening up.' No prompting from Taylor needed. They were doing a pretty damn good job at this therapy thing without even having a therapist present for it.

———

It wasn't until the following week that Alex finally had to ask Jack something, a question that had been burning in the back of his mind for days.

They had a couple hours of free time between group therapy and lights out, and the two of them were just chilling in their room. Jack was writing in a notebook, and Alex had been staring at the ceiling, a question turning over and over in his head for half an hour before he finally got it out. He sat up and quickly asked, "Hey Jack, remember last week when you said that your parents are used to you doing 'shit like that'? What did you mean?"

Jack looked up from his notebook and stared at Alex for what felt like an eternity. Then he sat down the notebook and crossed the room in a couple of long steps. He shoved up his sleeves to reveal three deep scars on one arm and two on the other. They weren't just deep; they were life-or-death cuts. While there were tinier scars tattooing both arms, the five stood out because it was obvious what they were there for.

"You've tried to kill yourself five times?" he whispered, horrified. Without thinking, he reached out a finger and ran it down one of the scars.

Jack flinched slightly and Alex withdrew his hand. "Yeah. You know how your parents think that you being gay is just a phase?"

Alex nodded, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"Well, my parents think that this," he lifted his arms slightly to emphasize that he was referring to the scars. "Is just a phase. Wanna know the real kicker? My dad's a fucking psychologist and my mom's a high school counselor."

Alex took a moment to process this. "So when you said you don't want to open up to a psychologist…"

"It's because I've tried, and my own parents don't seem to get it," he finished.

"I don't mean to make assumptions," Alex said slowly. "But from what you told me, your parents sounded so, I dunno, cool."

Jack sighed wearily and sat next to Alex on his bed. "Everyone always thinks so. And they are. They're not bad parents. They just, they've never really understood me, you know? Like, even though they're trained in psychology, they don't get it. They expect me to be perfect like them and I can't do it, and I don't deal well with pressure and stress, and while they can be really awesome about some things—like when I came out and they didn't even bat an eye—they're clueless about other stuff. They think that I'm just acting out against all of their expectations, and I just can't fucking take it." He spoke very quickly, and Alex could tell that he'd been holding that in for a long time.

He wasn't entirely sure what to say, though, so he just wrapped an arm around him and said, "I'm sorry."

He didn't recoil from the hug. "Not your fault," he mumbled.

"Doesn't mean I can't be sorry," Alex reminded him.

That seemed to spark a memory for Jack, and he decided that it was his turn to ask a personal question. "Remember the first night here, I woke you up because you'd been talking in your sleep? All you were saying was that you were sorry. You just kept apologizing over and over. What was it for?"

Alex knew he was blushing, because it was so stupid. "I was apologizing for letting my parents down. Mainly my mom. She didn't want a gay son about as much as I didn't want to disappoint her. Guess neither of us got what we wanted."

———

A couple nights later, Rian asked a funny question in group therapy. "Who found each of you? If that's not too weird of a question, I mean."

Taylor asked the question they were all thinking. "Do you mean who found us when we tried to kill ourselves?" Then she gasped, as did the rest of them. It was the first time she'd slipped up and inserted herself. Actually, none of them had even suspected that the bubbly psychologist had ever had problems of any sort. When Rian nodded, dumbfounded, she laughed nervously. "Well, now that the cat's out of the bag, I guess I'll go first: my sister found me." She pulled down the collar of her shirt to show them a scar. "I tried to shoot myself in the chest and it didn't work as well as I'd hoped. I was fourteen and she was six, and she found me in the basement after she heard the gunshot."

Everyone was silent. They hadn't expected things to get so real so quickly.

"Guess I'll go next, then," Rian suggested after a silent minute. "And we're talking about methods, too, while we're at it, right?" When Taylor nodded, he told his story: "My girlfriend's the one who found me." He looked ashamed of himself. "I, uh, actually stole some of her medicine to do it with. We go to the same college, but I live off-campus. She'd had surgery on her shoulder a couple weeks earlier and had some really strong painkillers. I took what I figured was enough from the bottle the last time I visited her dorm. I think she realized, because I can't think of any other reason for her to have come to check on me in my apartment in the middle of the night. She had a key and she found me passed out on the couch."

Zack went next. "I tried to kill myself with alcohol poisoning." He rolled his eyes, like the idea itself just sounded ridiculous. "I was at a party and just drank everything. Apparently at one point, one of my friends asked me why the hell I'd been drinking so much when I was usually so good about limiting my drinks, and I started going on about how I was trying to kill myself. I kept drinking even after that—I guess he didn't take me too seriously, but I was really drunk, so I don't blame him—and then I woke up in the hospital. My mom was right there, and she said this guy at the party had gotten really concerned and called 911. I don't even know who he was, but he saved my life." He said the last sentence bitterly, like he was still angry about having his life saved.

Alex sighed, knowing it was his turn. "I used pills, too. They were my mom's, but I don't think she actually needed them. She's got a psychiatrist who'll write her a prescription for anything, just as long as she keeps paying. She's the one who found me, too, but I don't think she was too worried about me."

Jack was, as usual, the last one. "I tried to slit my wrist. Again. My room mate found me, so I guess he'd kind of happy about that." When he saw everyone's puzzled expressions, he explained, "My university has a policy that if your room mate tries to kill themself—whether or not it's successful—you automatically get all As for the semester."

Taylor gave all of them a bright smile. "I knew y'all could do it!" she crowed. "You're getting more willing to share bits and pieces about yourselves with each other!"

———

Over the next few weeks, Alex found himself growing increasingly fond of the Elmwood Center and its inhabitants. It was crazy, but for the first time in his life, he truly felt like he was at home. Who would've thought that he would find his place in a center for attempted suicides? He could hardly believe it himself. But he liked the people there: his room mate, the other guys in his group, people he'd met in passing or at mealtimes. Even Taylor was starting to grow on him, surprisingly enough. After she'd opened up in group therapy like that, telling her patients—people who she owed no explanation to—a piece of her story, he'd gained a bit of respect for her. Everyone here was accepting because they all had their own issues, so why judge somebody else for what was wrong with them? Nobody cared if you were gay, straight, a recovering alcoholic, a former stripper, the preacher's daughter, or anything else imaginable. Everybody was accepted for who they were.

After they'd been there for about a month, it was announced that there was going to be a visitation day the next weekend. This instantly put the majority of them on edge because that meant family visiting, and none of them wanted that. In many of their cases, family was part or most of the reason they were here.

When the day arrived, the visitations were staggered so that only four families were there at a time. Alex, Jack, Rian, and Zack were all scheduled for the three o'clock time slot. The four of them sat in the lobby area, waiting for whoever wanted to come see them in a place like this. Zack's dad was the first to show up.

He pulled Zack into a normal, non-awkward hug and then nodded at Alex and Jack. "Nice to see you boys again."

"Well, I feel left out," Rian muttered. He was the only one who hadn't met Dr. Merrick.

Zack rolled his eyes. "This is my room mate, Rian," he said to his dad. They shook hands, and then the two went off to one of the conference rooms, where a therapist was waiting.

He had barely left before Rian was springing up out of his chair and sprinting across the room, picking up the girl who just entered and spinning her around. "Cass!" he shouted gleefully.

Alex and Jack raised their eyebrows and he explained proudly, "This is my girlfriend!"

She smiled at him. "Your parents will be here in just a second. They're still being searched."

"Searched?" Alex asked curiously.

"Yeah, they have to make sure we're not smuggling drugs or weapons in to any of the patients." She shrugged. "I guess it's a necessary precaution."

Rian's parents joined them a moment later, and the four went down the hall. Alex wondered whether anyone would actually try to sneak drugs or weapons into a place like this. Wasn't that kind of counter-intuitive?

"I don't want to do this," Jack said suddenly.

"Do what?"

"See my parents. I just, I don't want to deal with them today. I know exactly what they're going to say, and I don't want to hear it. It's going to be more bullshit about my future and their expectations and how this is just a roadblock that I put up to try to rebel against them but we can absolutely move past this phase. It's always the same. Every fucking time, they think this is just some attention-grabbing teenage rebellion. I'm in my second year of college; I think I'm past attention-grabbing teenage rebellions by now." He shook his head. "I just don't think they quite grasp how unhappy I am with everything, and I'm sure they'll try and tell whatever poor soul is overseeing the visit how to do their job because my parents are the only ones who can possibly know anything about psychology."

Alex gave his hand a squeeze. As they'd gotten closer, they'd become more comfortable with small gestures like that. "I'm sure it'll be fine. And if you need to talk about it afterwards, you know I'll listen."

Jack smiled. It was a small smile, but Alex counted it as a victory anyway. "Ugh, they're here," he groaned, standing up.

"Good luck," Alex said, noticing that Jack's parents didn't move to embrace their son like Rian's and Zack's had, but shook his hand instead. They completely ignored Alex.

Twenty minutes later, his parents hadn't shown up. Alex was fine with this, because he was sure if they'd decided to drop by, a fight of some kind would have ensued. Somebody tapped on his shoulder and he just about jumped out of his skin.

It was Taylor. "Hey, sweetheart," she said, her southern drawl somehow exaggerated by the sad tone of her voice. "I just got off the phone with your mother. Your parents aren't coming."

Alex nodded. "I figured as much."

"D'you mind coming to my office?" she asked.

He shrugged. He didn't have much else to do, so he ended up in the ridiculously comfy armchair across from her desk.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Her voice was so sweet, and his initial hatred for her kindness had worn off, so he found it hard to protest.

"I mean, I'm not surprised. To be honest, I'm kind of relieved."

This came as a surprise to Taylor. "Why's that?"

"I don't have the best relationship with my parents. My mom is painfully homophobic, so I'm sure if she came, all that would happen is she'd lecture me on my 'chosen lifestyle' and we'd argue. My dad is a lot more liberal, but he's also really submissive, so he never stands up to her when she goes on her political rants. So I find it kind of hard to respect him at all when all he does it bow to whatever the hell she wants without giving a second thought to how it might make other people feel. When I came out and she kicked me out, he didn't even look at me, and I know it's not because he was ashamed. He's told me in secret that he supports equal rights for everyone. No, it was because he didn't want to start an argument with that bitch. So really, I'm glad they didn't bother coming. It's easier that way."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded firmly. "Why would I want to see a woman who hates me for who I am and a man who can't stand up for what he actually believes in?"

———

Alex and Taylor talked for a while longer before he finally made his way back to his room. When he opened the door, he was met with a terrible sight.

Jack was sitting on his bed crying, a razor pressed against his arm, a few droplets of blood already escaping.

"Jack!" Alex yelped. "What the hell are you doing?"

He jumped and dropped the blade, then looked at Alex with tear-filled eyes.

Alex didn't know what to say or do, so for a minute, he just stared right back at Jack. Then he pulled the chair away from Jack's desk and positioned it so he could sit right in front of him, which he did. "Jack, what happened?" he asked softly.

"They're so fucking full of it. I told them I was thinking of taking a break from college when I get out of here, and they started going off on me about how that didn't go along with 'our plan.' I can't deal with all of their pressure. They expect me to fill this perfect mold they made ages ago, and I just don't fit into it."

He'd never had to deal with a situation like this, but Alex decided he might as well give it a shot. He took Jack's hands in his and tried to look him in the eye—which was admittedly difficult because Jack wouldn't meet his gaze. "Look, Jack, I don't know much about your family, but I know that you're a pretty damn great guy, and I don't understand why you let them get to you like that. I've never cut myself, so I obviously don't know what it's like, and I definitely don't know the right thing to say to someone struggling with it, but I'm gonna try. From what I've seen, you're amazingly strong. You've come back from five suicide attempts and are somehow still a funny and charming person. I think that's proof you can bounce back from anything. And you know what? Fuck what your parents think about you and your choices. You're nineteen. You can do whatever the hell you want to with your life, and if they don't support it, then maybe they don't belong in your life right now."

Jack finally met his eyes and half-smiled. "Really? You mean all that?"

Alex nodded. "Absolutely." He wiped away the tiny drops of blood and planted a small kiss on Jack's wrist. He was still wondering where Jack could have possibly gotten a razor, but he figured he'd ask that later. Instead, he picked it up and slid it into the pocket of his jeans. He planned on disposing of it as soon as he got a chance.

———

As it turned out, Alex didn't have to ask Jack where he got the razor, because he found out for himself soon enough.

All of the patients were called to the dining hall for an emergency meeting. Taylor got everyone's attention and spoke as loudly as she could, trying to be heard from the front of the room without any kind of amplification. "Somebody stole the blade from the pencil sharpener on my desk," she said. It was clear that while her tone was still genuinely sugary, she was frustrated. "Y'all know very well that possessing a weapon of any kind is a blatant violation of the rules. I'm giving y'all three options: whoever took it can come forward, which is best for everyone, especially the person who took it. Or somebody who knows who did it can tell me. Or the final choice: we search everybody's belongings if no one admits to it within an hour. Nobody leaves the room until we solve this."

One glance at Jack gave Alex the answer he needed. That was where he'd gotten the razor. So without a second thought, Alex jumped up out of his seat. "It was me," he called out.

———

Once Alex handed over the razor, which he hadn't taken out of his pocket, he was put on suicide watch. This meant that for seventy-two hours, he was in a room separate from everybody else. He had virtually nothing to do but lie in bed, with Taylor and a couple other psychologists checking on him every fifteen minutes the first day, and then every half hour the second day.

On the second night, right after the end of group therapy—which Alex really missed, even though he'd only been gone from it for two sessions—Jack stopped by. "It took some persuasion, but they cleared me to visit you," he said, his tone casual and joking.

Alex grinned at him. "Thank god! I've been getting so bored in here. There's nothing to do," he complained.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Alex said lightly.

"Yeah, it actually is." Jack ditched the casual tone. "You covered for me! Why the hell did you do that?"

Alex didn't even know the answer himself. "I don't know. I figured, you had a fresh cut on your arm and might face a more severe punishment for it. I didn't have any fresh cuts so I told them I'd been planning on using it but just hadn't gotten around to it yet."

Jack shook his head. "But why? You didn't have to do that!"

"Because, despite the fact that I haven't known you for that long, I care about you a lot, and I figured you deserved somebody doing something nice for you."

Jack smiled, and then glanced to the door to make sure that nobody was lurking outside. When he saw that the coast was clear, he leaned over and kissed Alex gently.

It was a quick kiss, but Alex broke out into a huge grin all the same. "If that's how you react, I might have to cover for you more often."

———

After Alex's seventy-two hours were up, he still had to have a meeting with Taylor before he could be sent back to his room.

"So, why did you do it?" she asked. She didn't seem angry, though; if anything, she sounded sad.

"I don't know," he mumbled.

"Alex, you don't have any history of self-harm. What happened that made you want to change that?"

He searched for an answer, and gave her the first one that came to mind. "I just, I was more upset about my parents not visiting than I thought. They've never really been there for me, and I guess I thought that maybe things would change once I was here. I thought that they might start giving a damn about me, that my mom would see that she was wrong to be so fucking bigoted, and that she'd give me another chance at being her son. Or I figured my dad, at least, would show up and talk to me and just say something, for god's sake!" As he said it, he realized it was true, that he'd really wanted that.

"Well, Alex, people sometimes take a long time to realize that they were wrong. Or—and I hate to say this—they sometimes never come around. I'm sure your parents love you, but I can't promise that your mother will ever see things the right way."

He let that sink in, and he supposed that as long as his dad would one day come around, he could live with whatever his mom thought.

———

The last time he'd gone to his own room, he had walked in on Jack with a razor in his hand. So it was no surprise that Alex was a little apprehensive about going in. But this time, when he opened the door, he was met with somebody slamming into him and pulling him into a tight hug.

Jack.

After the initial shock, Alex hugged him back just as enthusiastically. When he pulled away, he asked, "What was for."

"Thank you," Jack said urgently. "I never said thank you. For covering for me, I mean. I really do appreciate it. Thank you so much. That's probably the nicest thing anybody's ever done for me, and—just, thank you."

Alex grinned. "Anytime." Then he added, "On second thought, let's try not to make this a regular occurrence. Sound good?"

Jack nodded, then flashed him a smile like he'd never seen before. "Y'know what we could make a regular occurrence?"

"What's that?"

"This." And without warning, he kissed him again. While he still wasn't prepared this time around, at least Alex was a little less surprised than he'd been last time.

"Yes, I think we could definitely make this a regular occurrence," Alex agreed.

———

About a month later, they were sitting in group therapy when Taylor brought up the toughest topic yet: "I want y'all to each tell something you've never told anybody, something that you've never even wanted to tell anyone. It'll be hard, but trust me; once you've said it, you'll feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Who wants to go first?"

Jack volunteered almost immediately. This caught everybody off-guard; they'd all grown used to him sharing stories last, no matter what the subject was. He just wasn't good at opening up. "This is gonna sound really stupid, but for as long as I can remember my dream has been to be in a band. I've never really been able to pursue this because my parents don't think musicians have real jobs, and the past year or so I've been wondering if I'd chased my dream instead of theirs, would I be happier now? My entire life, I've done everything that they've told me to, and it's never made me happy. I dunno, I just can't help but resent them for it all."

"I'm the reason my parents got a divorce," Zack said once he was sure Jack was done. "When I was eight, I caught my mom cheating on my dad with the neighbor. It was an early release day and I guess she'd forgotten, so when I got home at noon instead of three, she was banging the nineteen year old who lived next door. She told me not to tell my dad, but I did anyway, and they got a divorce pretty soon afterward. She told me a few months ago that they'd probably still be together if I'd never told him. My dad didn't want custody at the time because he was so busy with work all the time, and I think he regrets that now."

Rian went next. "On a similar note, I cheated on my girlfriend." This statement elicited gasps from everyone else, including Taylor. Whenever Rian so much as said Cass or my girlfriend, his face lit up. It was obvious how much he loved her. "It was about a year ago. We'd gotten into a pretty big fight, and I went out and got shitfaced. The next thing I know, I'm in bed with another girl." He sighed and shook his head. "I still haven't told her about that, and I don't know if I ever will. But that's the worst thing I've ever done."

Alex realized it was his turn. For once, he dreaded talking about something. "Like many wealthy conservatives, my mother thinks her opinion is worth a lot more than it actually is. So she shares it with anybody who'll listen, and sometimes people who don't care to hear what she has to say get stuck listening. When I was twelve and figured out that I was gay, all I could hear was here rants about how gays go to hell, and how she hates 'that kind of lifestyle.'" He took a deep breath and launched into his biggest secret, one he'd barely scratched the surface on when he'd talked to Dr. Merrick in the hospital. "So I kind of quit caring whether I lived. That was when I started putting myself in dangerous situations because I just didn't give a fuck. I figured that if I died in something that everybody would call an accident, my mom would never have to know that her son had let her down."

Taylor seemed blown away by the level of honesty expressed by everyone in the meeting, and she took a minute to regain composure. "This may have been our best session to date," she began. "Good job! I was told I need to remind y'all that there's another visiting day coming up this Thursday, and all four of you have had at least one person call and say they're coming."

Wait, that meant Alex was going to have a visitor. Who the hell was it?

———

The first time they visited, Jack's parents had flat-out ignored Alex. He was sure it would be the same this time around. But Jack made sure it wasn't, pulling Alex by the wrist and introducing him. They smiled warmly and said it was nice to meet him and he was about seventy percent sure they knew something was going on between the two of them.

He didn't have too long to dwell on this, though, because before they were even all the way down the hall, his visitor had arrived.

"Dad?"

His dad smiled tightly and crossed the room quickly, giving him a hug. Something was amiss, and he was determined to figure out what it was. "We're supposed to go to conference room C, they said."

Alex nodded numbly and led the way. Taylor was waiting for them, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to deal with an unfamiliar therapist during what was sure to be a tense meeting. He wanted to say something, anything, but couldn't think of anything.

Luckily, his father was prepared with the perfect icebreaker: "I'm divorcing your mother."

Alex just about choked. "You're what?!"

"I've had it with her bullshit," he replied calmly. "First it was all of her political views. Then it was her kicking you out. Then it was her telling me that you must've moved out early and neglecting to mention that my only child had tried to kill himself. That was the last straw. I've already moved out."

Alex just gaped at him. "You and Mom are getting a divorce?"

"She agreed to it once I admitted it was true that I voted for Obama."

Taylor chuckled, then realized he was serious. She shuffled her various papers, blushing. "Well, Alex has made amazing progress," she started, but Alex didn't hear the rest of what she said because his blood was beginning to boil.

When there was a lull in the conversation, he faced his dad and asked, "Why the fuck did it take me almost dying for you to realize what a bitch she is? Why did all of this have to happen for you to finally stand up to her?"

"I wish I had an answer for you, but I don't."

"Figures," he scoffed.

"I came to offer to let you live with me when you get out of here."

Alex shook his head, not even pausing to think about it. "You didn't care enough to defend me in front of her, and now you think you can swoop in and be the goddamn hero? No thanks, I'll find my own place when I get out of here."

———

The meeting had gone downhill after that, and Alex was beyond happy when it was over. He met up with Jack, Zack, and Rian at dinner, where they all discussed how their visitors had been.

Rian told them about how Taylor had helped him tell Cass that he'd cheated on her, and that she'd been very forgiving because it was so far in the past. Zack said that he'd apologized to his dad for ruining his parents' marriage, and that his dad had actually burst into laughter at the very idea of it being Zack's fault; he'd gone on to tell him about how his mother had been cheating on him for years and that he'd never been able to catch her in the act. But Jack's story was the best of all.

He was positively glowing. Taylor had told his parents about how honest he'd been in one of their meetings, how he'd disclosed his true ambitions, and that maybe they ought to give him a chance to try and do what he was passionate about. Instead of fighting her on it, they'd admitted that they had seen a definite change in him since he first came to Elmwood Center. He was, for the first time in years, truly happy. They told him that if what he wanted to do was pursue his musical career, then they were powerless to stop him, and they just wished they'd been able to come to peace with all of this sooner because it would have saved the whole family a lot of heartache.

Alex sincerely congratulated them all on their successful interactions, but he couldn't help but feel envious. "So how'd your visit go?" Zack asked him.

He sighed. "My dad came by. He said he and my mom are getting a divorce, then tried to play the fucking hero and invited me to move in with him."

They all offered him their condolences before having to go the pairs had to go to their separate rooms. Once the door was closed, Jack beamed at him. "What're you so happy about?" Alex asked suspiciously.

"I haven't told you the best part yet! I told my parents a little about your situation—nothing too personal, don't worry—and they said that if you want, when you get out of here, you can stay with us for a while."

"Are you shitting me?" he yelled, not daring to believe him.

"Nope. Hundred percent serious, as long as you're okay with it."

Alex threw his arms around him. "Of course I'm okay with it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" And then the word vomit started. "I know I haven't known you all that long so this might seem like a weird thing to say, and if it changes things then that's okay, but I have to say this because if that southern charmer bitch has taught me anything, it's that when you have something you need to say, it feels better to say it than to hold it in, so here it goes: I love you."

Jack grinned. "Well, let's pretend I repeated all of that stuff you said leading up to it, and I love you too."

———

It was their last group meeting, and it was bittersweet.

Rian and Zack had been cleared to go home the following morning, so the meeting was mainly spent having a very long goodbye. They all exchanged numbers, with plans to start a band together once Jack and Alex were free. When there were only about ten minutes left, Taylor finally interrupted. "I have one more discussion topic for y'all, and it's important. Do you still want to kill yourself?"

"Nope!" Rian said, smiling.

Zack shook his head. "Not a chance."

"I don't think so," Alex and Jack said at the same time.

Taylor frowned. She'd clearly wanted a more definite answer, but she seemed satisfied with what Zack and Rian said. "Well, Zack, Rian, it's been a good three months. I hope that if I see either of y'all again, it's for a different reason."

———

Just two weeks later, Jack and Alex were having their last partner therapy meeting. The two were heading home later that afternoon. "I have to say," Taylor said, smiling sadly. "I'm going to be really sad to see y'all go. Y'all have made amazing progress, and I really hope you keep in touch after leaving. It's crazy to think that less than four months ago, Alex hated me and Jack didn't want to talk about anything important. Y'all have impressed me more than any other patients.

Alex smiled. "I never hated you," he argued. "I just thought you were too damn nice."

She shrugged. "What can I say? It's how I was raised."

"I hated you," Jack admitted. "Not because you were too nice, but because I thought you were like all the other psychologists I've met, who just want the quick fix. I was wrong, and you're actually pretty great."

"To be fair, I thought you were a little bitch," she reasoned. "What if I don't WANT to talk about it?" she mimicked, and Jack had to laugh. Then she got serious. "So I have to ask again: do you still want to kill yourself?"

"No," Alex said definitely. He was happy and accepted and he couldn't imagine ending his life when he was finally feeling like he belonged.

"No," Jack agreed. "I don't think I'll ever try again."

"Well, like I said to the others, if I ever see y'all again, I hope it's for a different reason." And they were dismissed.

Their bags were already packed, and all that was left was waiting for Jack's dad to pick them up. Fingers laced with Jack's, Alex smiled to himself. He was amazed at how everything had turned out. He'd ended up at the Elmwood Center after trying to overdose because he had nowhere else to go. It was a last resort. But now that he was about to leave, he wondered how he could have ever been reluctant about coming to such a wonderful place. The people there had helped him in so many ways, and he was more grateful than he knew how to express.

Sure, things weren't perfect. He still wasn't on speaking terms with either of his parents, and there was a chance that would never change. But he'd met three amazing friends—four, if he counted Taylor. He'd met the guy he was holding hands with, his boyfriend, the person he already knew he was in love with. He had things to look forward to—plans with Rian and Zack, starting a band, his and Jack's first date, and so many other things that hadn't happened yet but could. Once he walked out of the Elmwood Center, anything was possible, and that was one of the best feelings in the world, knowing that his life was up to him and he could do whatever he wanted.

It had taken a strong desire to die, and almost getting exactly what he wanted, to make Alex realize that he wanted to live. But that was the way things were, wasn't it? He'd found his place in the world in the most unlikely of situations, and he was fine with that. Because now, he had reasons to wake up in the morning. He was, for the first time in recent memory, happy just to be alive.

And he never wanted anything to change.