who:Cisco Ramon What: a bad night When: last night Where:his and Georges room Warnings: none, Cisco doesn't like himself much though. Sadness and stuff status: complete narrative
The week had been awful. He'd been awful. It was taking everything in his power not to just leave and disappear for a while. He wanted to be there for George, but he didn't know how when he was the one who hurt him. He had so many other ideas of how the weekend was going to go, but instead it went backwards. Everything had gone so wrong and he wasn't sure how to right it.
He hadn't eaten much in a few days, things were just a bit more dull without him. He was there, but felt so far out of reach it scared him. George said he had to care about his feelings, but he was tired of his feelings. He felt nothing but disgust with himself for how he'd treated George. For what he'd said. He didn't like himself much. He wasn't sure why George hadn't told him to leave really.
He leaned over to open the drawer where a leather journal lie by his side of the bed in it. He'd intended to give it to him for valentines day, now he wasn't sure what to do with it. Give it still? No, probably not. He'd been asked to take a step back so he was trying to do that and not crowd him. Ironic thing was, he'd been thinking about telling him he loved him, but wasn't sure of the right timing. But he must love him still, he wanted this to work. The idea of George not being his boyfriend hurt. The idea of him being so far away it felt like a continent was between them hurt. He'd hurt him. This was his fault.
He wanted to fix it, but apparently only time would tell if he was allowed, and Cisco was used to fixing things without permission. Tech didn't require permission to fix. If it was broken he knew exactly what to do, here he had no idea. He moved his arm to rest on his forehead as he closed his eyes in the dimly lit bedroom. He was drained from fighting mental shut down but couldn't sleep. He just rested his eyes in the darkness. He wanted to be better for George, when he needed him. He needed to keep functioning.
Tomorrow he would, but tonight he succumbed to mental exhaustion, he curled into the blankets they shared and was done existing for the moment, done with his thoughts. He just wanted to shut his mind off, but could not. Tomorrow he'd function, he'd break this cycle. Right now? He needed to figure out how to get past self loathing. He had to figure out how to function on his own again in spite of the crushing weight of his own mind.
He sat up, stared at the darkness in front of him for what seemed like forever. Function. Stand, walk, one foot in front of the other. Nothing.
He looked down at his feet a bit longer until finally one stepped toward the shower. Basic hygiene. Brush teeth, shower, then sleep. Move forward. it felt like it took all his energy just to cross the bedroom to brush his teeth. He wanted to be there for George, he couldn't shut down. He wouldn't let himself cease to function again. He fought against himself and turned on the water, getting into the shower he stood under the stream of warm water, he needed to be better. George meant the world to him. He needed to get past this mental wall.
A hand reached for the handle to turn off the water, he stepped out, dried off and got into his sweats to get into bed properly.
It was a baby step to most, but to him those simple actions while his brain threatened to shut down his entire body were like climbing a mountain. He fell back into bed, and finally asleep.