frank's ptsd was never that big of a problem for them when it was the middle of june and patrick had spend the evenings cuddled up in frank's arms and letting the weight of him sink him to the ground on that old lawn chair in their front yard. it wasn't a problem in the autumn when frank's anxiety began to act up, because patrick always tried his best to calm frank down and let him know he's not in danger. he's okay and he's not in trouble and he isn't going to hurt him.

but it was when christmas time came around when frank began to seem more vacant and away, he didn't have his deep conversations with patrick anymore and he cut himself off.

it was christmas day when he finally had his breakdown.

"frank, frank, honey..." patrick pulls frank up from where he's laying limp on the couch, staring off into the distance and crying softly, soft words coming through soft lips, "please don't hurt me, please, i'm sorry."

and then he spasms slightly, just his pinkie or his leg, and patrick just assesses frank who's obviously not here. he's gone. in the darkest part of his mind and patrick feels horrible.

"frank, wake up."

patrick touches his arm and frank immediately screams, jolting away and curling up into a ball. patrick knows he can't help, he has to let it pass, but it hurts seeing him like this. his heart sinks as frank mumbles incoherent nonsense. it takes a moment for patrick to realize what it is, but it slowly becomes more clear as frank shakes staring blank into his own arms, "father, i have disobeyed and betrayed you with my sins of lust and greed and i pray for your forgiveness. i am a sinner. i cannot save myself, only you can save me from the flames of hell and with this prayer i beg for your love, your forgiveness. i believe you have died for my sins. hail mary and jesus christ, amen."

it takes a good five minutes before frank begins to calm down and patrick can look into his eyes and see someone staring back. frank is crying, hard, and he's desperate with red, watery eyes, and a downturned mouth, patrick opens his arms slightly and frank jumps in, sobbing.

"i don't wanna go to hell, i don't wanna go to hell," frank whispers, as if his begging will save him.

"you won't, you're okay, you're fine, it isn't real. they're just flashbacks. you're safe. you're going to be okay."

patrick slowly rests the shaking frank and he whispers past raven hair, "i'm gonna go make some tea and a blanket and we can cuddle and you can talk if you want to, but you don't have to."

frank nods softly, wiping his tears and pulling his legs up to hug them tight to his chest, his knees bent sharply. he watches as patrick goes to the kitchen and turns on the stove to boil some water. he fills up a pot and sets in a couple of tea bags before going back to frank, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around frank before leading him to the bedroom. patrick ticks him in softly, careful not to upset him. frank is just staring and wiping the tears that fall from his tear ducts. patrick kisses his forehead before he walks to the kitchen and pours the hot water into two mugs, then adds cream to frank's and a couple of sugar cubes to his own.

patrick comes back to the bedroom, offers frank his mug and takes a seat under the covers beside frank who's staring at the mug now in his hands.

"they used to take the altar boys aside some days, and put them into the confessionals and prod for anything that could reveal their sins. i never told them about gerard, but they knew anyways... from mama," frank looks away, eyes lowered in a solemn, defeated way, "it was christmas day when they punished me for what gerard and i were doing. they took me aside and they..."

frank pauses, shifting uncomfortably, "it was the worst day of my life."

"i'm sorry," patrick whispers, "i want to help."

"i want you to help. but i don't know how."

patrick places a gentle hand on frank's shoulder and kisses his forehead tenderly, "i love you. you're safe now."

"i love you, too."