[Double update because I have no self control but I also have the next chapter almost completely done and the one after that halfway done. Consider this a treat because school is coming back in two weeks and I won't have a lot of time to write.]

OKAY I WANT A LOT OF COMMENTS ON THIS CHAPTER, I'M GOING TO SLEEP BECAUSE IT'S FIVE AM BUT PLEASE? I KNOW YOU GUYS CAN DO IT AND IT MAKES ME SO SAD WHEN YOU DON'T COMMENT. PLEEEEEASSSSE? COME ON, I DOUBLE UPDATED, I DESERVE THIS.

THIRTY-NINE:: when you find a solution.

"What's your sleep schedule like?" The man in front of me had asked.

After getting to the hospital with my dad bright and early the next day, I'd been through a lot of scans. They'd tested me for depression and we were apparently waiting on some results from God knows what. All I knew was these questions were odd and it was uncomfortable to say the least. The man in front of me wasn't all that old, barely in his thirties I'd assume with a head of short-cut curly hair, skin a little darker than Benji's but bright hazel eyes that stared me down behind glasses.

The laugh lines and gentle smile made him easily approachable and I know that should've lured me in to speak about my problems. Dr. Lueeth was nice enough and he wasn't all that intimidating -pretty attractive too- but he was still a doctor.

My dad sat beside me, hand gripping my medical records that he had in his hands. He always paid extra attention to my health... It started to become something way too important to him when I was around ten and had an allergic reaction to some onions, I remembered that I couldn't breathe and apparently almost died. Since then, he'd never let anything slip past him and maybe that's why I knew he'd get me checked out as soon as Paul told him about my panic attacks.

Nudging me, my father pulled me out of my thoughts and I stared back into the piercing eyes of my doctor. I swallowed dryly, wishing I wasn't there and wishing these questions weren't so specific... Somehow, that made them harder to answer.

"Um... I sleep fine, I guess." I wasn't comfortable and he could tell so he flashed me another one of his charismatic smiles and I struggled to figure out how he got his teeth so white and straight.

Then that made me think of Benji and how if he were there, he'd joke about me being white and gay. A small smile made itself home on my lips but it was quickly wiped away when Dr. Lueeth spoke again.

"You have to tell me the truth in order for this to work. I'm not going to judge you, okay?" Looking hopefully at me, he'd smiled again when I nodded, obviously happy that I'd cooperated. "How's your sleep?"

Shrugging, I thought it over. My sleep was kind of a problem lately, I was tired out of nowhere but sometimes I found myself laying awake beside Paul and listening to his soft snores until early hours of the morning and I'd go to school unable to stay awake in first period. "I can't sleep sometimes but I fall asleep during the day and I feel tired but then I lay down and I can't." I was frustrated with myself, I'd seen the bags under my eyes so often that they didn't faze me anymore and I was sure they noticed.

"I see," deciding not to comment on that, he bit on the end of his black pen, looking back down at the paper in front of him and checking things off before he met my eyes again. I felt like I'd said something wrong and I hated it, "how's your energy been aside from that? Like these past few weeks compared to before you came out?"

My dad had unfortunately told the doctor I was gay when we'd started this meeting, I was sure. He probably told the man my whole predicament but surprisingly, the question was asked as if it were normal. It felt good to not be judged because I liked boys.

"There's not a lot of it..." Shrugging, I'd think of days Paul had to physically pull me out of bed and I curled in on myself. "My boyfriend makes me go places though and he makes me smile. When I'm with him, I try to ignore being tired and it kinda works." It was getting easier to talk about my preferences and I felt myself opening up to this doctor.

"That's nice." He nodded with kind eyes, jotting some more things down on his clipboard before looking up at me, "Do you prefer to stay at home?"

And I nodded back thinking that it wasn't going to be that hard to communicate with him anymore.

"Okay." Leaning forward a bit in his seat, he tilted his head at me, pushing his glasses back into position when they'd fallen. Resting his elbows on his knees, he'd studied me, hands clasped beneath his stubble-covered chin.

And then he asked the one question that I didn't want to answer, my heart sinking to my stomach. "Have you had any thoughts of suicide?"

The room went silent and I felt my father's emerald green eyes burning holes into the side of my head, my own eyes on my hands. Sucking in a sharp breath, I felt memories from the past few days resurfacing and the fact that I'd thought about killing myself... Even if I'd quickly shut those thoughts down, I did think about it. I thought about it at least twice in the past 48 hours and that wasn't okay.  "Um..."

"You have to be honest with me." He'd repeated, placing a comforting hand on my knee whereas my dad didn't move an inch. My body was screaming for some gesture, just for him to show that he was there no matter how I answered but I'd stayed silent. "Like I said, this is a judgment-free environment."

My silence must've been a hint to my dad and he turned in his chair slowly, voice filled to the brim with sadness, "You've thought about it?"

"Yeah." I'd croaked out and he stood. My eyes were still on my hands, prickling with unshed tears he hates me. Pacing around, he let out a heavy, crippled sigh and I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to to cry. Be a man, don't let him see you weak.

And my hands were shaking after forever, him sitting back down.

"Fuck." He rarely cursed but a lot of things had changed since mom left.

"Dad... I-" I didn't expect it when he felt myself being pulled into his embrace. Stifling my tears, I clutched onto his back, millions of emotions running through me. The doctor had long since removed himself from me and I could hear him writing words down on his clipboard again.

Pulling back after a while of silence, my dad gripped at my shoulder gently, showing that he was still there and he would continue to be there.

"We have the results, sir."

And that's how I ended up sitting in the car with my dad beside me a pill bottle in one hand and a registration form for a therapist in the other. Apparently in order to get a prescription, I needed to be registered with a shrink and meet with he or she once a week.

"They're gonna take a little while to work." Anti-depressants.

I never really thought I'd be on drugs of any kind, prescription drugs tended to make me nauseous as did other medicine and I found myself tightening my grip on the bottle.

My dad was with me, we hadn't talked much since the hospital and Paul was still at work.

That's what he means by not always being there, I guess.

I was leaning back in my seat, never really getting over the news and I dreaded having to tell my boyfriend. I was crazy. I was a kid who'd first thought about dying the night before and I'd been a wreck ever since. He didn't need this, I didn't deserve him.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, my thoughts coming back from darkness and I struggled to lift my head and see bloodshot eyes staring emptily at the road ahead. There were a million and one things wrong and I couldn't stop overthinking and overanalyzing and hating myself for it.

"The doctor said its gonna be around a week or two before they fully kick in."

I knew what the doctor said... After the tests were brought back, my dad was pulled into a different room. I was in the room over, walls too thin, when he had started crying. He asked God why, he'd been wallowing and wondering why I was less of a person and I couldn't help but agree. He prayed over me, wishing I didn't have all these fucking problems.

And then he'd asked the doctor how long until I'd be back to my normal self.

I didn't really remember who I was anymore.

Nodding, I kept my eyes on the bottle in my hand, reading over the warning label. Isn't it funny that the pills that were supposed to help me not kill myself could also kill me if I downed them all in one go?

Snapping myself out of it, I stared at the dashboard, trailing my eyes gently over the words carved into the leather and letting go of the papers in my hand. Sighing quietly, I clenched my free hand in a fist and balling it tightly until I could feel my nails pressing harshly into my skin. Still, they were too blunt to cause any damage but a small pain and I laid back in my seat, thanking whoever it was looking out for me that I didn't hurt myself. There I sat wondering why my life was so fucked up.

"Julian..." Quickly relaxing my hand, I stared down at the marks on my palm before lifting my head to look over at my dad.

"Yeah?" I wasn't aware of when he parked or how long we'd been sitting silently in the car as I fought to keep my eyes open. I was drained from the day, ready to just collapse on my bed and sleep, I didn't even have energy to cry.

My dad simply smiled over at me although I could tell it was forced and he shut off the engine, pulling the keys out. I took that as a hint to unbuckle my seatbelt and his voice followed me as I opened the car door. "Paul's here."

How didn't I notice? I didn't know but I knew my heart beat just a little bit faster when I was out of the vehicle and lifted my gaze to meet beautiful brown eyes. And then he was getting up, treading closer to me, the corners of my lips lifted into a small smile at the way his eyes lit up. "Hey, baby, how was the doctor's?" He was anxious and I felt a little more awake.

And then he'd spotted the pill bottle in my hand, gesturing for me to hand it to him.

Shrinking back a bit, I clutched the little orange bottle s little bit tighter in my hand. I wasn't ready to come to terms with it yet. "No."

Paul's smile dropped a little, brows furrowing and he tilted his head in that cute way of his. "What?"

"Can we go inside?"

And despite his confusion, he'd nodded, gesturing for the stairs that led up to my front door. My dad was long gone inside and I felt Paul trailing me as I made my way into my house.

He either didn't get the hint that I didn't want to talk about it when we were up in my room, my body falling to rest back on my bed. I just wanted to nap for a few days and hopefully not resurface until the pills started working. Crawling into my bed beside me, Paul kept his eyes trained onto the pill bottle I sat on my dresser. "What'd they say?" He didn't make a move to see for himself and instead waited for my answer.

"You're not gonna wanna be with me anymore." Shrugging to mask how much it hurt, I stared at the ceiling and ignored the dread I could feel approaching.

I could barely acknowledge it when he held my hand, chest warming at his words despite how exhausted I felt. "What're you talking about? Of course I'm going to want to be with you. I care about you, I want you to get better and if this helps you get better, I want you to take them."

"I'm crazy."

"You're not." Leaning against my headboard, he rested both our hands in his lap and played with my fingers absentmindedly. "Let me see them, angel." Angel. There he went again with that new pet name and I struggled to refuse what he was asking.

"I don't-"

And gently, he intertwined our fingers again, "Julian-"

"I have depression." And I regretted it as soon as it came out my mouth, Paul's words stopping abruptly as he waited for me to continue. Pushing my tired limbs up, I sat beside him against the headboard, pillow in my lap and settled for pulling our hands to rest on it. "It's some weird ass atypical depression or something."

"Oh?"

Sighing -I seemed to be doing that a lot lately- I rested my head on his shoulder just wanting to be closer to him, "Yeah. I've been uh sleeping... A lot since I moved back in and I-I can't always move and I'm sad all the time, Paul I hate it."

"I know."

Sucking in a breath of air, I buried my head further into the crook of his neck and tried to preoccupy myself with fiddling with his fingers the same way he had with mine. "They're um... They're looking into major depression but I don't think I'm that sad, ya know?"

He nodded. "They put you on meds?"

"SSRI, forgot what it stands for but they don't wanna put me on hard drugs until they figure out exactly what's wrong with me-"

And abruptly, he sat up, turning so h could face me a little and stare sternly into my eyes. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"Paul, stop." I just wanted him to hold me but I also needed to tell him everything and maybe saying it while he held me would be easier.

"No." Gripping at my chin, he forced me to meet his eyes, filled to his tear ducts with sincerity. "There's nothing wrong with you, okay? Not a thing."

I tugged myself away softly so I could finish without looking at him. Keeping my eyes on the pillow, I explained further. "They said its common in the lgbt community when you're finding out about who you are," and I wrapped my own arms around myself so he wouldn't feel the need to, giving him the option to leave. "I'm sorry, I have too many problems a-and you're gonna leave, you probably should. I just, I wanted to be honest with you because I've been such a fucking liar and-"

"Julian..."

When I was nervous, I always felt to need to over-explain, another one of my annoying qualities that he once found endearing when I asked him out but I was sure it was another reason for him to leave me. "I'm fucking stupid and everyone hates me. My dad looks at me as if I'm so pitiful, my mom didn't even come to the hospital and I feel like such a fuck up and I keep making you worried and I panic over stupid shit and-"

"Stop blaming yourself." I felt both his hands clasp around mine and weakly attempted to tug myself loose, I really didn't want physical connection when he decided that I wasn't enough for him, I couldn't handle it. He, however, refused to let go.

"Paul-"

"No. Stop acting as if everything's your fault, okay? Your dad cares about you, we all care about you and it hurts to see you so mad at yourself over things you can't control." Every word hit me and my subconscious was reflecting them off, I kept telling myself that he was lying. Dr. Lueeth had mentioned that self-deprecation was another sign of depression and it wasn't until then that I realized how frequently I insulted myself.

Paul continued strong, voice piercing me, "Calum's the one who hurt you, your mom kicked you out, you can't help that you're gay... sorry."

I wasn't aware of how I flinched back at his mis-labeling until he'd apologized. "Bi. You can't help that you're bi." The word still felt like it didn't fully fit and that hurt on the long list of other things that hurt. I didn't qualify as gay but I also didn't qualify as bisexual just, bisexual felt a little less intimidating?

I didn't know but I knew that my heart beat a little faster as he spoke, "you get panic attacks because you blame yourself for all this stupid shit that's not even your fault."

I opened my mouth to speak but nothing would come out.

"I care about you so much."

The only words I could find to say were a simple plea. "Please don't leave."

"I'm here for you," he reassured and I tried to believe that it was true. "I'm always gonna be."

Sliding down onto my back, I kept my eyes on the ceiling. I couldn't stop staring at nothing, hoping that an easier feeling to deal with would replace this self-doubt but it didn't. And I didn't want to be even more annoying, I slightly hoped Paul wouldn't hear my whispered words, "Why do you even like me? I'm a mess."

"You're not though," he spoke in the same soft tone as me, scooting a bit closer and throwing a hand over my stomach before pulling my body a little closer to his. We were both still in our street clothes but neither of us cared as he pulled my blanket over us, "You've been through a lot that you didn't deserve and I wanna help you be happy and...Stop."

I didn't understand what I was doing until he pulled my curled fist open, it was becoming a thing I did and I didn't like it. By the look on his face, neither did he. "Stop doing that."

We were both silent for a bit as he held my hand to his lips, kissing gently at my knuckles before slipping his hand back through mine and laying my hand across my stomach before pushing his fingers through the slots in between mine.

"I really, really think I'm falling in love with you."

And I felt a small smile pulling up at the corners of my mouth as I turned on my side and he rested his forehead on my shoulder. I felt his lips glide along my skin as he spoke softly, "Tell me you feel the same."

I love you. "I do."

: : :

It was late the next day -he didn't work on Sundays despite this new schedule- and I'd been up to Paul playing in my hair again, we'd somehow shifted during our nap (that turned into sleep) to me laying on his chest. Deciding that we were okay with the silence and just enjoying being around each other, we didn't move aside from out breathing and his hands combing softly through my hair. His heartbeat was calm under my head and I was thinking, eyes refusing to close again and I felt calm.

About as calm as I could be when I was trying to figure out the right way to phrase the question, "If you wanted to break up with me, you'd tell me, right?"

"Hm?" His hum was soft and soothing almost as if he didn't hear me and I attempted to repeat myself without letting the words linger too long and without letting it hurt me. It had taken a while for me to fall asleep the night before and I had just been thinking the whole time. And this whole afternoon as well after a long sleep, a few naps after, breakfast and a pill.

"If you don't wanna be with me anymore, if you want out... tell me."

And he sighed, I knew why, he was repeatedly telling me that he didn't want out and although, I kept letting it go... He knew I didn't believe him. "I'm not gonna-"

"Please?" And he could tell how important this was to me as he got back to massaging my scalp, leaning down to place a kiss on my forehead.

He retorted with a question, "Promise me we're not gonna keep things from each other?"

"Paul..."

It was about Andy again and I understood it so I listened as he requested, "I don't want there to be any secrets. I really want this relationship to work out and in order for that to happen, we have to be one hundred percent honest with each other."

Nodding, I smiled at that, "I promise."

"Okay." Basically hearing the roll of his eyes, our compromise was coming along. "And I promise that if I were ever stupid enough to let you go, I'd tell you."

"One more thing?"

"Yes, Jules?" He joked, wrapping his arms further around me and I felt the blush traveling up my neck slowly as I tilted my head to look up at him. I knew he was joking but I still felt a little cautious because he could mean it and-

Stop.

"I need you to tell me when I'm not putting enough into this or