Rest Your Head

It takes everything in their power to not throw up from the dread that lines their stomach, pulling on their insides. They lay on their bed and stare blankly at the ceiling, intermittently shedding tears as they focus on keeping bile from rolling up their throat.

They inwardly scold themself for being so dramatic, but they can’t help it. Having a horrible, depressing two days after several days—a couple weeks even—of improvement is devastating. It makes them feel like all their efforts and appointments and hope has been futile. That no matter what they do they will always be messed up in the head.

At first they tried to stay positive and tell themself it is only a bad day, and more than likely brought about because of their awful few days at work, but it is just sometimes easier to allow the darkness to consume them. It is what they areused to—it's morbid, but it’s comfortable.

Finn knows what’s going on, and offered to keep Sky company in the wake of their inner turmoil. They politely declined, not keen on the prospect of Finn seeing their bloodshot, puffy eyes and pitiful appearance. They were resistant to even open up to Finn, but the one promise they refuse to break with to themself is the agreement to not shut their best friend out again. Finn is the only person who understands their situation and truly cares; if they cut him off, they will end up alone and drowning in their own horrible self-medicating techniques all over again. For now, it is their only motivation to improve their state.

A sudden banging on their bedroom door absolutely rattles them. It is quickly followed by their little sister chanting: “Sky, Finn's here!”

Sky's heart cannot decide whether or not to drop or soar at the unexpected announcement. They consider rushing up to throw on a clean shirt and pants, but Finn has definitely seen them in worse shape.

“C’mon in,” they say weakly, even after clearing their throat.

Finn slips inside the bedroom wearing a tight grin. Since their friend has never had a good poker face, they can tell instantly he is full of sadness and pity for them after learning why they have been stuck in bed all day.

“Hey, Sky.” He greets as he approaches their bedside. “Can I sit?”

With a nod, Sky sits up and shifts toward the wall. They watch Finn slump down beside them, setting his backpack on the floor. As he gathers a few items including his laptop, Sky admires his handsome profile and the tuffs of unruly black hair sticking out of a Cleveland Browns breakaway beanie.

“Did you eat today?” Finn wonders as a plastic Speedway bag comes out of the backpack.

Sky snickers softly, “Citalopram, Vyvanse, and juice.”

Finn is already holding the bag out for Sky to take. After accepting the offering as he finishes settling himself, they peer inside and feel their heart swell. They cannot help the smile that sneaks across their face as they grab the Honey Bun, cashews, and bottled smoothie. Finn wonders aloud, “You like the strawberry-banana smoothies, right?”

Sky nods, feeling a sudden and completely unfamiliar rush of serotonin attack their deprived brain. They can’t believe the attention to detail that Finn pays them—that anyone would know off the top of their head their favorite snacks, and guess that they has not eaten. Tears threaten to prick their eyes again, so they distract themself by digging into the sweet, sticky Little Debbie’s treat.

“Tropic Thunder or Superbad?” Finn asks after starting up his personal computer. His shoes and hoodie have come off, leaving him in a slightly baggy band shirt with his back against the wall beside Sky.

Mouth full of the processed pastry, they roll their head to the side to meet Finn's enticing, blue stare. They hum, licking icing from the corner of their lips, “Superbad. More of my man Bill.”

Finn rolls his eyes at the celebrity crush of Sky's that he does not understand, but clicks open the DVD case, slipping the movie into the attached disc drive. He pushes the laptop between them and continues to make Sky's heart flutter and their cheeks heat up as the pair barely fit in the creaky twin mattress.

Halfway through Sky's smoothie and a few minutes into the film they can both pretty much quote word for word, Finn perks his head to them. His head meets their shoulder, his boring into their soul. He whispers, “Are you alright, Sky?”

It burns them to their core. They swallow hard and nod, faking a smile. “Totally.”

Finn frowns; apparently also able to read Sky's face like a book. It’s enough to effectively wipe the manufactured smirk off of their face. They shrug, and flip their stare back to Michael Cera being awkward with a girl as per usual. “Today just… I don’t know. It’s all hard.”

It all comes flooding back with the force of a tsunami. Those tears gloss over their stare again and their stomach lurches and threatens to reject the food Finn had bought them. It is hard to discern whether the sudden feeling of skin against their rosy cheeks make the onset of tears closer or farther.

“It’s okay.” Finn promises, coaxing Sky to meet his reassuring gaze. There is a small, sweet smile curling his lips as his fingers trace the clouds of tiny freckles across Sky's cheekbones.

Their lip quivers under the weight of Finn's stare and hold. They shake their head, cursing a single tear that escapes. Finn wordlessly whisks it away as those soft movements continue. “It’s okay.” He repeats.

Sky forces their eyes to close in hopes that nothing else will emit. They remain like this for a while, nearly drifting off to sleep. They have yet to find a deeper level of comfort outside of Finn's soft hands and caring embrace. Whenever that asshole voice in their head starts to make them regret opening up to Finn about their long pent up mental health issues (that they did not even realize is severe ADHD and depression until Finn assured them that they are), they just try to recall how much more amazing it feels to be held by him than to be alone and wishing they had never been born.

Eventually Sky pulls it together, and Finn does not ask them to talk about what is going on. Grateful for this, Sky allows themself to be slowly cheered up by the ridiculous film and the actual food in their stomach. The two laugh and joke together, Sky annoys Finn by fawning over Officer Slater, and they internally fawn over Finn when he shifts downward and rests his head on Sky's tawdry flannel pajama-clad thighs.

_

Can u call me

Do you wanna just come over?

dad has the car

I can come get you (:

u sure?

Totally sky. Already on my way.

Sky lets out a deep sigh of relief. Having Finn in their corner is a fresh batch of pure air. They can finally breathe.

After packing a small bag of their belongings and notifying their younger sister that they would most likely be gone that night, they stepped outside for a cigarette before Finn turned up. When he did, they slipped into the passenger’s seat of his family car, which was really just a white pick-up truck with gaudy conservative paraphernalia slapped on all sides.

The long ride over to Finn's dad's house is mostly quiet, the two enjoying some random pop punk playlist Finn found on Spotify, basking in the ability to have the windows cracked without freezing their balls off. Though Sky harbors a modicum of second-hand hate for the drive to and from his dad's property due to how often and fervently he complains about being forced to spend alternating weekends with the man after his parent's divorce, they cannot help but find the scenery a beautiful reminder of why they are generally okay with living in dull, Southwest Ohio. It’s a nightmare, but a picturesque one with endless rows of robust oak trees that house unique and somewhat unimpeded ecosystems, and vast, golden cornfields.

On arriving at the somewhat isolated estate, Finn is pleased to inform Sky he has the place to himself for the weekend, as his dad decided to carpool with his buddies to a gun convention. He says that his older brother is set to stop by tomorrow to check in on him, but that he probably won’t and they will just go out to eat together instead, as he is the only person in their family who understands that Finn is not still eight years old and in need of careful supervision.

The notion of being completely alone with Finn is thrilling and daunting. Part of them hopes that he will invite the rest of their friend group, but not enough to bring it up themself. They do thoroughly enjoy and value time spent alone with Finn, but they are unsure of how much longer they can go without making out with their friend’s cute face.

“So, why’d you want to call earlier? Is everything okay?” Finn asks as they share the porch swing and enjoy the only mildly-cold weather. They are bundled up in Finn's sweatshirts and plan to wait outside for the pizza they ordered. Finn melts to a puddle with each breath as they bring the neck of his sweatshirt to their nose to enjoy their friend’s signature scent of lavender and Old Spice. Ever since they were children, Finn and his home has smelled of lavender, and ever since puberty and those really strange, hilarious commercials, Finn has been wearing Swagger. Sky once sprayed a sample of it on themself at a mall and was so embarrassed they did not ever wear that jacket around Finn again.

Sky shrugs, “I just wanted to talk to you. Or see your face. Either one helped immensely.”

“Gay,” Finn jests with a smirk.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, bro.” Sky quips.

Instead of another fleeting joke, Finn follows up with something that puts Sky even closer to serenity. He brings their hands together, and folds their fingers between one another’s. A grin stretches Sky's lips, and Finn is wearing a matching expression, his pale cheeks obtaining the slightest tinge of pink.

When the pizza arrives, Sky is disappointed to be forced to drop Finn's hand. They decide to eat out on the porch and Finn manages to coax a bit of information out of them. They tell him they are doing significantly better on their new medication but sometimes they just feel strange. It is like they has lost the ability to really pinpoint what is wrong with them or how to even express feelings. The pills have taken away the certainty of their chronic sadness and their inability to behave appropriately, but left beside some residue of these issues and forced them to confront actual trauma. Finn understands and clings to every word.

"I just hate that I've put all this effort into fixing my brain and it only works, like, half the time," Sky huffs.

Finn takes a moment to absorb it all and to finish eating before he goes to say, "Well if it makes you feel any better, I've noticed a positive change for the most part. Don't get me wrong, I've never had any problems with the way you act and do things, but I don't know, you're just... calmer now? Or, just, more peaceful. Like you're not always worried about something or always trying to move onto the next thing. I'm really sorry that half the time it feels the same or worse, but I think that you're doing is really brave and important. You should stick with it. You deserve to overcome your mental health issues."

Sky is rendered comforted by the sentiment. More than anything, however, they are flattered that Finn is paying close enough attention to them to notice any changes in their behavior, let alone subtle, nuanced ones. They let this fact comfort them as they finish nibbling on their pizza.

They decide to head inside when it becomes pitch dark, and they slide into their pajamas. After Sky has changed, they wanders down the hall to the bathroom, where Finn is brushing his teeth. He glances at Sky from the mirror, stating, “If you forgot your toothbrush, I got a spare one.”

Sky waggles their eyebrows as they slink into the space behind Finn, “You don’t wanna share yours with me?”

After spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste, Finn lets the water run and sends them a challenging smirk. He rinses off the brush he used and hands it to Sky. Sniggering at the easiest dare of all time, Sky snatches the utensil and lines the bristles with Colgate. Bringing the toothbrush to their gapped two-front teeth, they turn to the side, staring directly into Finn's pretty eyes as they paint small circles against the bones.

When they are finished, Finn is wearing an expression somewhere between amusement and something Sky cannot definitively pinpoint, which is odd. He chuckles, “Come on, we have to finish this season.”

“I know, it's getting wild.” Sky agrees, shadowing Finn to the living room.

They turn on Arrested Development and sit side by side. Glistening eyes roam one another’s faces longer and longer until their TV show is all but forgotten. Their fingers are laced together again. All of a sudden their foreheads are touching, and smiles are assaulting their faces. Sky starts to go in for the kiss, but settles on merely rubbing their noses together. Finn repeats the action, as if offering the encouragement to finish the thought. Sky does, and when their lips finally meet, breathing becomes even easier.

Their kisses are soft promises of adoration as they continue to hold one another close. The cyclical processes of brushing noses and pressing lips together continues way later than either meant to stay up, and the night finally ends with Finn's head resting against Sky's chest. They remain awake, praying they will get to run their fingers through Finn's dark hair just a little longer until sleep consumes them as well.