Trigger warning: This chapter deals with depression, suicidal thoughts, and plans (but no attempt). While it does explore a character who uses suicidal thoughts and plans as a means to cope, I do this as a way of showing how depression manifests in the character and it is not intended to encourage this as a solution. If you are experiencing mental health challenges, please seek help and reach out to someone you trust.  

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Shawn hadn't said a word at his side, or if he had, Mitch hadn't heard it. His best friend had spent years dealing with Mitch's emotional bullshit, and his personal life suffered. He dedicated too much time to taking care of his friend's emotionally stunted drunk ass to have a genuine relationship.

Today was no different. He would be out with Emma if Mitch hadn't dragged him out to ease his fractured conscience. The conversations would have been about the feelings he had for that woman instead of Mitch's mess. Mitch was still the same fuck-up, holding his best friend back.

The air grew warmer against his skin, spreading a wildfire itch across it. Each breath was shallower and less satisfying that the last. His brain ached and pin-points of pain shot from the back of his neck across his scalp as if a razor-legged spider were crushing it.

Imagine the lives Maria and Shawn would have... how happy they would be... how free they would be...

If you were gone.

Shawn and Emma travelling Asia together, him sad at first, but ultimately lighter and more carefree than when Mitch was his burden.

Maria, in the arms of someone who saw her value the second he met her. Who never let a whisper of doubt about her amazing nature enter her mind. They'd have a happy marriage, and great kids, while Mitch would fade into a memory she kept in a dark box like her ex where he belonged.

His headache intensified and his chest ached at the visions, but there was only one way for his friends to achieve those dreams. For once, he would do something right.

The river called to him, offering him a reprieve from this pain. With a few gulps of water, his body would be free of his messed up mind. Floating away with the current. The thought alone soothed him. Perhaps he'd even see his sister again, although the odds of heaven existing or him qualifying were slim.

"Mitch!"

A sharp pressure on his shoulder jolted him back.

Shawn's furrowed brow and concerned brown eyes bore into his as his friend blocked the river. "You okay?"

Shawn's grip loosened as Mitch brought his fingers to his cheeks, which were warm and wet to the touch. When had that happened? He took a deep breath to regain his composure. He couldn't lose it in front of Shawn.

The sky darkened to a star-speckled navy above them. Darkness would keep worried onlookers from foiling his plan.

One more inhalation calmed Mitch down. "Why do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"This, tolerate me, talk me through my terrible choices. You're a good person, and I'm—"

"In pain. It's hard to look or do your best from there. Once you move past it—"

Shawn was too understanding. Another reason Mitch needed to succeed with his plan.

"I've had three years and only gotten worse, taking everyone down with me."

Shawn pressed his palms into his jeans. "Mitch—"

"You can't deny I've hurt people, too many people, and I need to stop it."

"Tell me how I can help."

Ever the optimist. Only one solution would solve Mitch's problem, and Shawn would never agree to it.

"I have to do this alone."

Shawn's eyebrows knit together as he studied Mitch. "What's your plan?"

He'd have to wait until later when no one was around. Shawn would try to stop him or talk him out of it. It would be good to leave a note, so no one wasted any time contemplating whether he disappeared or needed help. The faster they moved on, the better.

"Mitch?"

"I've got it sorted."

"Do you want the name of my therapist? She's fantastic."

Mitch didn't need to burden another person with his mess. If his plan worked, everyone could wash their hands of the stains he left on their lives and start fresh. "I'm good, but thanks." He smiled, a weight lifting off him as he imagined floating away from his limp body in the river.

"You're clearly not. You were losing it a minute ago."

"And now I'm not."

"That's what scares me."

Mitch stared at the sloped riverbank, a mix of grass and clay. It'd be easy enough to climb down later. But first thing first, how would he convince Shawn he was fine?

"Tell me what you're thinking."

Would he buy a change in scenery, a retreat to a monastery, a year of abstinence? Mitch was a few months into the last one. But Shawn would see through all of that. Mitch was too fond of Bangkok and its comforts, too dependent on substances to numb his fuck-ups, and too in love with Maria to take that gamble.

"I..." He was a master bull-shitter. Why was he so blocked?

Shawn's voice softened. "It's okay to feel lost and overwhelmed. You've been through a lot."

"No more than you."

"Grief isn't a competitive sport. I've been lost too, especially after leaving you at that party after the funeral." Shawn stared at his hands like he was trying to repent.

Flashes of a smashed hood, smoke rising, and a traitorous oak tree that wouldn't do the one thing Mitch had needed at that moment filled his mind. If he had hit the accelerator harder, it would have done everyone a favour. It only forced Shawn to invite Mitch to Thailand to babysit him like he was doing now and feel guilty about something that wasn't even remotely his fault. Mitch would ensure he didn't fail tonight.

Shawn placed a hand on Mitch's shoulder. "If your plan is anything like the one you had that night, it won't stop hurting people. It'll only hurt us more."

Mitch looked into his friend's knowing brown eyes. He was never sure if Shawn had thought that was a drunk driving accident like his parents assumed or figured out he'd been stone-cold sober and needed an escape. Shawn had found him an alternative in the next few days by offering him a home in Thailand. But Mitch was as destructive in this home as in Nebraska.

The place wasn't the problem. He was.

"Short-term pain, long-term gain." Mitch's voice cracked.

Shawn's grip on Mitch's shoulder tightened. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Anxiety rose into Mitch's chest and swirled like a vortex. "Everyone would have been better off if I'd succeeded."

"That's bullshit." Shawn took a few heavy breaths. "You don't get to decide what's best for anyone but yourself."

Mitch's tears blurred the riverside. "Lisa would have moved on sooner. My parents wouldn't think their son hates them. Maria would have been happy with Tom. You would have gotten over it."

"You think I'm over losing Em? Over failing to notice you needed help?" Shawn's voice was hoarse and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I've accepted that I can't change it, but there'll never be a day when I recall it without pain. If you'd died..." Shawn closed his eyes and gripped his thighs.

Mitch's mouth was dry and scratchy. "I'm sorry."

Shawn took a deep breath and looked at Mitch. "If you think this is best for us, it's not. Get help, heal, and make amends. That's what's best for everyone. The only person your solution is helping is you."

It sounded easy to take Shawn's steps, but it wasn't. He couldn't flip a switch and erase the suffering he'd caused or would continue to cause. Visions of tear-splotched faces, bitter insults, and Em lying in that coffin took over as he closed his eyes. The fear in Lisa's gaze, the pain in Maria's.

He shook and his headache intensified until his skull felt like it could no longer contain his messed-up brain.

He was a monster with no solution in sight.

Shawn squeezed his shoulder again. "Talk to me."

"It's impossible," Mitch choked out.

"It feels that way now, but it's not. I promise you. I am always here for that and for you. We will get you help."

Tears burned his eyes as Mitch nodded, as he hadn't a clue what else he could do.

Shawn dropped his hand to his side. "You're my best friend. You've had my back more times than I can remember. Let me have yours today."

"Not recently."

"Sometimes, you gotta take care of yourself before you can help others. Airplane rules." Shawn half-smiled.

Mitch sighed, unable to muster the same optimism. "I messed up Maria, Prae, and Tom's lives in my attempt to help."

"Maria was a wreck when she showed up. Sunny had us checking on her and that abusive jerk she'd fled. A big reason she moved on from him was you."

The river flowed along calmly, only amplifying the uneasiness in him. "Except I acted just like the jerk."

"No, whatever you were doing wasn't calculating and meant to manipulate her."

"The end results were the same." Her sobs still echoed in his bones.

"If you get help, they don't have to be."

"That's every woman's dream—a man so messed up he needs professional help to process his feelings."

Shawn faced him and sat up straighter. "When you needed to improve your lay-ups junior year, you turned to Coach, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"You'd done a bunch of layups and knew with help we could get the team to state. And it worked. A therapist is just an emotional coach. You've never lost anyone as close as Em."

"I've never lost anyone."

"Exactly." Shawn let out a deep breath, and his shoulders relaxed. "You need suggestions on how to manage that. We're not born knowing how to handle every situation. When we came to Thailand after Em's death, I had trouble sleeping, and I kept screwing up at work. Nothing felt right. I talked to Sunny, and she knew someone who experienced something similar and therapy helped, even if the family was reluctant. It helped so much that the person studied psychology. I had nothing to lose, so I found an English-speaking psychologist. It was hard and frustrating sometimes, but life's a lot easier than it was three years ago."

The wind ripples on the river smoothed, making the full moon's reflection more circular and clear. Mitch focused on the rhythm of his breaths entering and leaving his body. Each one was less razor-sharp than the previous. Shawn didn't say a word. Thai conversations from the sidewalk above drifted over about minute things like going for drinks, the quality of their meals, and complaints about work.

"Still pretty overwhelmed?" Shawn asked.

Shawn's argument had made therapy seem a bit more doable. It still made Mitch insecure to bring in outside help to function as a person, but Shawn had done it, and he was one of the strongest people Mitch knew.

"A little less."

"I know getting help is hard and foreign, but you've done plenty of hard things in the past. You'll meet this challenge just like the other ones. Whenever you need an assist, I'm right here."

Mitch had done several difficult things: earning top marks in high school and university, getting bronze at state in basketball, moving to a new state then country, learning Thai, and doing his best to stay out of Maria's relationship. Perhaps this was another he would accomplish.

"Thanks for tonight. I wish I wasn't such an awful friend."

"You're not an awful friend. You're a friend in an awful spot."

"Will I sound that corny if I go to therapy?"

Shawn laughed. "Nah, you'll be your regular irritating self, just more at peace."

Mitch let out a slow breath as a piece of wood floated by. The water seemed colder and less inviting than earlier. "I could deal with that."

A few minutes passed before Mitch recalled the events that had gotten them here. "Shit, Tom's gotta be pissed."

"I left him some cash for supper and told Prae where he was at. He'll be fine."

"You're too good a person for this world, Shawn."

"That's probably why the mother ship is coming for me tomorrow night." Shawn winked.

Mitch shook his head and laughed. "We're all fucked if that happens." Most of all, Mitch, because with the gentle breeze and the current, his headache and tension were slowly drifting away, and he might accept Shawn's therapist offer, or at the very least leave the river in peace tonight.

Shawn pulled out his phone and smiled. He showed it to Mitch. "Look who's worried about you."

Mitch grabbed his own device and noticed a couple of missed texts from Maria too.

Maria: Are you okay?

Maria: Heard what happened at supper. If you need anything, please call <3

Mitch opened and closed his mouth then looked at his best friend. "What do I say?"

"Be honest."

"She'll rush over here, and I'll hurt her all over again."

"Then tell her you're okay."

Tears spilled out of the edges of Mitch's eyes. "But I'm not."

Shawn clutched his shoulder and pulled him into a hug. Mitch felt like he was a kid again, taking a nasty spill off his bike, but Band-Aids, gauze and antiseptic wouldn't cure this. He wasn't sure that anything would.

Shawn pulled away. "You don't have to be."

"I wish I was."

"I've had that wish plenty of times too. You'll get there." He scrolled through his phone, and soon Mitch's lit up with a message that Shawn had shared a contact with him, the therapist.

"Sick of listening to me?"

"There's a limit to how much I can help you, and I want you to feel good being yourself again."

"I can't remember the last time I felt that." There were brief flashes when he was around Maria, but they were fleeting.

"You can change that."

Mitch inhaled until the air inflated his stomach and pushed out as much of it as he could. Fractions of tension departed with each exhalation. Perhaps he could.

"I'll call Maria and tell her not to worry."

Once Mitch nodded, Shawn dialled her number. "Hey, yeah, everything's fine... he's right here with me."

"Hey Maria," Mitch called out weakly.

Shawn put the call on speaker. "Hey, are you okay? I heard what Tom said. He's taking out his anger on you. Don't take it personally."

"I appreciate you."

"So do I. Are you okay, Mitch?"

He took a shaky breath and looked at Shawn, who shrugged. "No, but Shawn's here, and it'll be okay. I just..." Mitch closed his eyes.

"Need some time," Shawn finished. "It's been an emotional day for you both. I can't imagine Tom is making it easy on you."

"Not really."

Mitch went to open his mouth, but Shawn shook his head. "What you told Mitch applies to you too."

"I caused his anger. It's hard not to take it personally." That pain in her voice made Mitch want to hold her.

"It doesn't take much to upset him," Shawn said.

"It takes a lot to build him up and destroy his dream."

"I don't believe you would have done that with malice. If you built him up, it must have been genuine. Feelings change, and that's inevitable."

"Thanks, Shawn. I needed that, and I can relax knowing Mitch is with you. You're like the suffering whisperer."

Shawn chuckled. "I wouldn't give myself that much credit, but I'm happy I could help."

"I'll let you guys enjoy your night. Mitch, I'm glad that you're... not that you're not okay, but that you're..."

"Alive," Mitch croaked out.

"Yeah." A smile radiated from her tone. "Sorry, that sounds foolish. I can't find the right words."

"It means a lot that you care."

"Likewise."

The line hummed with other people's shuffling and conversations in the background. As much as he loved hearing Maria's voice, he was running out of energy. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"Have a good night or a not-so-shitty one."

"You too, Maria."

After Shawn hung up, he clapped Mitch on the back and stretched an arm over his shoulder. "She cares and wants you here. So do I."

Mitch let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, I guess so."

"It's never as harsh as it is in your head. We'll get you through this. That's a promise."

Mitch hoped Shawn was right. 

***

Thanks for reading, voting, and commenting. It always warms my heart. Hopefully, I've done Mitch and Shawn justice in this scene. It's not an easy one to write as the topic of mental health is one I've spent most of my life dealing with sometimes in both Shawn and Mitch's shoes.   

I have a short novella called 'More Time' that explores Shawn, Emily and Mitch's story on my profile if you want to jump more into their Nebraska tragedy between the wait for updates. It's told from Shawn's perspective and how he gets through the grief with the added challenge of Mitch's devastation. 

I only got about 5 chapters into it before I got distracted with another project but may continue it someday. It essentially starts when Emily gets sick and explores how Shawn gets Mitch to Thailand. The blurb says it contains spoilers, but it just covers what they guys have discussed in these past 3 chapters. We're pretty close to the end of More to You :)

I'll be updating again next weekend, and hopefully more often as the holidays approach. Thanks again for your support. Have a wonderful weekend :)