HALP! [closed]

While Sean was prone to bouts of insomnia, he still did sleep. There were even times that he went to bed at an objectively reasonable hour; he needed those nights to recharge, particularly after exhausting days or to make up for the nights where sleep didn’t come quite as easily. But even when he fell asleep easily, he was a light sleeper; Josh shifting too much in the bed was usually enough to wake him.

Surely, the loud, insistent banging on his front door and the slurred calls of two familiar voices was enough to jolt him awake. Doing so, he then reached up to rub his eyes, placing exactly what had woken him. Doctor N...

That was Sam and Vincent. The knocking told him they were at his front door. A glance at his alarm clock told him it was far, far too early (or late) for this.

Fortunately, Josh was a heavy sleeper; his partner didn’t even open his eyes, although he made a soft noise of confusion. The telepath reached over to pat his shoulder and whispered, “Don’t worry about it.”

Josh didn’t appear to do so; because he shifted into the warm spot the telepath vacated and made no sounds of protest.

Sean grabbed a bath robe to throw over his pajama set, and then found his slippers. Quietly he exited the bedroom and shut the door most of the way to afford Josh an additional layer of privacy. Quietly, he walked down the hall and then down the stairs to the front door. He ran his fingers through his hair to deal with the bedhead, obviously indicative of the fact that he’d been asleep, and then he opened the door.

Sure enough, Vincent and Sam were on his doorstep at this hour, and they were yelling about dying. And they were obviously drunk, and if the familiar odor of marijuana told him anything, they were also high.

It would be a long night.

He quickly gave them a once-over and there was no blood (although that wouldn’t even be a concern given Vincent’s power). Assessing that they were safe, he asked, “What happened?”

All Sam had wanted was to make things better for Vincent. Dr. N always fixed everything, so it had made perfect sense in his head to seek him out. Those poor nineteen people they had roused before finding the psychiatrist? Well... He was sorry. Sort of. Right now there were more pressing things than feeling bad about waking others up in the middle of the night.

At least they weren't being yelled at. Nor were there threats of police involvement. Just a familiar, welcome face. Sam recognized Sean before Vincent seemed to, and was even ready to greet him when Vin lurched forward.

The pyro wasn't ready for that kind of motion. What did that mean? A rather inelegant slide down Vincent's back, and a nice face plant on the step.

Thankfully, the drugs in his system provided a fantastic analgesic.

He scrambled to his feet, no worse for the wear. Unless you counted the scrape on his chin now oozing blood. With little to no respect for personal space, he latched back on to Vincent. "He can't die Dr. N! Don' let him! He's like my BROTHER! Y' don't let bros fuckin' DIE!" Yes, he's getting as hysterical as Vincent. But the idea of Vincent dying was genuinely upsetting. If anyone could fix this, it had to be Sean.

Perhaps surprisingly, Vincent did find some semblance of comfort sandwiched between Sean and Sam. It was eventually enough that he was able to let go of Sean, very desperately wanting to believe that the telepath was right and he wasn't dying. "Y'sure?" Vin had no reason to doubt Sean, he wasn't the type of person to lie about something like this, but he needed the reassurance almost as much as he needed an embrace.

Throwing his arms around Sammy instead, Vincent awkwardly stumbled inside Sean's house, pulling the pyro with him. He took back the rude names he had called Sam earlier, though he didn't say such out loud. His friend was right, it was best that they went to Sean.

Looking at Sam, Vincent finally seemed to realize the scrape on his chin. Wrinkling up his nose, more focused on the wound than on his own dilemma, Vincent grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to wipe the blood from Sam's chin. "When'd ya do that?" He'd been so invested in his sob story to Sean that he hadn't even noticed Sam's graceful face plant.

Sniffling, Vincent looked back at Sean. "S'it gunna stop hurtin' soon?" Because he just wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted his life back, but he couldn't really be Vincent when he was dealing with a pain he didn't understand.

The telepath stepped back from the door to allow both boys to enter the house. As soon as they were safely inside, he quietly closed and locked the door, taking care not to make too much noise. While he initially hadn’t wanted to wake Josh, because he thought the other man needed a full night’s rest and this matter didn’t concern him, he now also didn’t want Josh awake, because his partner would only be uncomfortable. And that, in turn, would make Vincent more uncomfortable; Josh wasn’t always the best when it came to emotional discussions about relationships.

The telepath led the two boys through the foyer and into the kitchen. He gestured at the table and instructed them to both take a seat, and he went about putting the kettle on to boil for their hot cocoa. Over his shoulder, he said, “I am sure that you won’t die, even though it feels like there’s a hole in your chest that can’t be filled.”

He certainly knew how that felt.

“And, Sam, we can talk about why you had sex later, but I think that right now, you just shouldn’t think about it. We need to try to feel calm right now, not upset. Can you do that for me?”

His tone was patient, particularly in light of the hour of the night. Sean pulled down three packets of hot cocoa mix and set them aside for when the water had boiled. He returned his attention to Vincent. “I wish that I could say that it will stop hurting very soon, but I can’t lie to you. It’s going to hurt for a while, but it does get easier.”