Alex tapped his fingers against the textbook in his arms. Maths. Yes. Maths textbook, because just now, he'd attended a maths class, in which he almost listened and paid attention. Almost. But it was a fine start.

Maybe the "recovering badboy" joke wasn't as much of a joke as Alex had liked to think. Things weren't going to be great and fine and amazing again, not as quickly and easily as this. Being with Youngbin wouldn't heal his every wound instantly. But it certainly helped with something. Knowing that someone loved him would at least put a bandaid on one of the many scratches across his skin.

He'd have to figure out himself where to get more bandaids, and what to do with the injuries that were too big for a bandaid, and what to do about all the blood that had smeared on his body and clothes and everything he touched.

But at least he had Youngbin to give him some advice on that. Not just Youngbin. He had Lani and Margo as well. Maybe he could even have someone like Kaya, or William Lee, if he played his cards right and stopped being as much of an asshole, at least around people like them.

And then there was one more instance that was willing to help him, that he had so skillfully ignored for way too long. Ignored until now.

Alex threw his textbook into his locker, of which he had almost forgotten the code once again, a testament of how few times he'd opened it in the past, what, two years? Three? He closed it up again, this time promising that he was going to come back again tomorrow, at least once, to grab a book for a single lesson.

Baby steps, Alex. Baby steps.

Then he stood still. He knew what was coming next, who was waiting for him now. There wasn't a need to be nervous, really. Talking to any teacher could make him nervous, any teacher that wasn't her. But she wasn't the kind of person to make anyone nervous. When she called someone to talk after class, it should've been hopefulness or relief that flooded a students mind, not worry or fear. Alex knew this. Not that knowing that he shouldn't be worried would change anything about his mood.

Tessa Clair taught Philosophy and Politics at Sirius Miller High School. She was on the younger side, not as experienced as most of her older colleagues, but she still carried that hope in her to maybe be able to change something about the system. Not that she was actually able to do that, no matter how hard she tried. But she tried nonetheless.

She was kind and smart and empathetic. And she didn't think that Alex was a hopeless piece of shit. She was also the only teacher that believed this. And she'd called him to her office today when he walked past her in the hallway. Alex has been terrified ever since.

Alex took another deep breath, then made his way towards her office. He pulled out his phone, checking the time, suddenly scared that he was running late already. Not yet. He had five minutes until the time they had agreed on. Maybe she'd be proud of him for arriving two whole minutes early.

"Alexander?" Alex brushed someone with his shoulder as he checked his display, then let his phone disappear in his jacket again as he looked up, just to meet-

The eyes of the most insufferable man attending this fucking school. Tobias Carter, with his hipster glasses he must've gotten some time in 2016, slicked back brown hair, and that disgustingly smug expression on his face.

Alex had the urge to smash it into a locker. He wasn't that kind of person, though. Obviously.

"Running around with your phone out? What a way to return to these beautiful school grounds, by breaking a rule yet again."

Alex furrowed his brows, tempted to continue walking past the teacher. He had more important things to do now. But Tobias Fucking Carter wouldn't give him the chance.

"You know I'll have to confiscate your phone now? You can get it tomorrow after school, maybe that'll give you incentive to actually come to school tomorrow-"

"I was just checking the time," Alex snarled, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. "Since we don't have any fucking clocks in the hallways. I need to g-"
"Uh oh, watch your language! Has mommy never taught you how to talk to adults?"

"Mommy taught me to not take shit, alright." Alex finally stopped completely, allowing Carter to catch up with him and position himself in front of him, crossing his arms and desperately trying to make himself taller than he was. Like a good authority figure or something.

"Taking shit? May I remind you that you just broke the very simple rule of No playing on the phone in the hallways?"

"Was I playing? Is checking the time a game now?"

"A rule is a rule, Alexander." Carter lifted his head a little, as though that would make him any more intimidating. "No phone in the hallways."

"I was checking the fucking time-"

"It's pretty bold of you to act like this when you've been missing from school for two whole weeks, you know. To say I would've expected better from you would be a lie, but-"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Alex looked Mister Carter dead in the eyes now, and for a second he thought he could see a little bit of panic flashing in them, before they went back to their narrow, somewhat annoyed shape.

"Well, I'm not really used to getting respected by you. I assume that nobody is."

"That's not what you meant, though. You didn't expect better from me, Sir, because...?"

Mister Carter pressed his lips together, not allowing an answer to escape, though Alex could tell that something was cooking up in his brain, words he wasn't allowed to say to a student, as a teacher. Oh, but Alex wanted them to come out.

"I would not," Carter began again, slowly, inhaling as if that would help him stay calm, "expect you to follow the rules. You tend to not do that. I would especially not expect you to follow the rules after skipping school for so long. I would like you to do that, but I know that you will not, Alexander, because I know you."

"Do you, Tobias? Do you know me?"

"Mister Carter," he corrected.

"Do you know me? Do you know anything about me?"

"You're troubled, I know that much. And you know that I think you could save yourself if only you put in the effort, but you so clearly don't want to-"

"Fucking hell." Alex rolled his eyes, turned his back to finally continue to walk. He was going to be late after all. "I'm done. Don't talk about something you don't know shit about, Mister Fuckass."

"Alexander Hill, you know I only want the best for my students, but I do not tolerate-"

"I have an appointment. Go do your work. Asshole."

A small crowd of students had formed to watch the two in their conversation, and Alex hadn't even realised. How strange. He pushed through the students, or rather, walked through the path that formed. Like it hadn't always been like this. Like people had never watched his arguments before.

Alex was used to this, to having all these eyes on him, to have people whisper about him as he walked past them just to fall completely silent once he was in earshot. But suddenly, he didn't like this anymore. Did he ever even like it in the first place?

On the way to Tessa Clair's office, a piece of Alex' personality, a core piece, fell apart. Just like that. Like a screw had loosened and dropped to the ground, and Alex continued to walk without picking it up again, while some kind of fuel that used to power him began leaking.

Tessa Clair smiled at Alex when he opened the door to her office. She had a kind smile, earnest and gentle, the smile of a person that didn't hate her job, the smile of a person that actually wanted to help.

"Alex," she said, greeting him with a nod. She leaned back in her chair, folding her hands.

Miss Clair was something of a guidance counsellor. Not officially, but unofficially, and she had her own office, which confirmed that the school saw her as more important than most other teachers.

"Hi, Miss Clair." For once, Alex' voice was quiet. Almost submissive, the way a student was supposed to talk to the big important grown ups. If he had a tail, it'd be between his legs. He respected Tessa Clair, and she knew that he did. She also knew that she was the only one Alex respected.

"Sit down, please." She gestured towards the chair opposite of her desk.

Like most rooms in Miller High, this room was grey and cold and really fucking ugly, but at least Miss Clair had made an attempt at decorating it to be a little more welcoming, with postcards and rather crude drawings on the walls, a very fake looking plant in the corner, a bright blue and pink mug on her desk almost glowing between off white documents and papers.

When Alex sat down, she looked at him for a few seconds, as if to read all of what had happened to him these past months from his face alone, then she asked: "How are you?"

"Fine, I think." Not super bad, at least. Weirdly neutral. Miss Clair nodded.

"It's been a while since we've last talked. Not just because you've been missing from school for a while. We haven't spoken in this environment in quite a while, haven't we?"

It was true. Alex had sat in this office many times, confiding in Miss Clair, since long before he'd started the whole skipping school thing. She was somewhat of a therapist, and kind of the one adult in his life that wasn't a total fucking train wreck or tried to actively make his life worse. But their little sessions had lessened. And then stopped, at least for a while.

"How are you," she asked again.

"Fine-" Alex now stopped. That wasn't the answer she was looking for. "Well, I've been pretty shitty lately but I think it's getting pretty okay now."

She nodded, and Alex relaxed a little.

"Have you been-" She cleared her throat. "Are you aware that there has been a video going around of you? About two weeks ago, maybe-"

"The one where I get punched?"

Miss Clair's face changed just the slightest bit, a confirmation. Oh god. His teacher had seen him getting knocked out into a fucking pool. Imagine having one of your students disappear just to see him wasted, getting beat in the face.

"I'm not entitled to know how or why that happened, but I do want to know if you're okay."

"I pretend like that didn't happen." Alex leaned back, crossing his arms as his eyes darted through the room as they had done so many times. The office never really changed. Like Miss Clair had tried to decorate once and then never put any thought into it ever again. "It's fine now."

"And you're sure?"

"Yes," Alex said, strangely confident. He pressed his lips together, then: "I'm probably gonna stop drinking so much."

Silence between the two. She certainly was hoping for another response, a little bit more of a conversation. But Alex truly didn't know what to say, aside from "I'm gonna get better, probably". As much as he valued Miss Clair and her advice, there was a line he didn't feel like crossing by telling her all about- all that.

"Alex, you do know that it's fine to ask for help?"

The question caught him off guard, though it wasn't even much of a question to begin with, more of a statement. It's okay to ask for help, Alex. He opened his mouth to say something, to maybe say no, or lie yes, or make a stupid joke about that he didn't want help because there was nothing to be helped with, it was over, it was too late. He closed his mouth again before any words could escape though.

"I hope I can offer you a safe space in the office, Alex. I don't need you to open up about every single thing that's going wrong in your life, and it's certainly not my job to fix anything. But-" Her pale face saddened, like she had somehow failed her duties as a teacher. "It is my job to help you and be someone you can trust. It is my job as a teacher to provide my students with whatever they need to grow and thrive and learn."

"I know," Alex quickly said, not to shut her up but to agree that she was, in fact, doing her job fantastically. "Miss Clair, you've been a great help to me in the past years, really, and I appreciate the support you've been giving me."

"But?"

"But? No but. You're doing your job just fine. It's just-" I don't like being helped. I don't like dragging people down. I don't like being dead weight. I don't like being weak. "I just think it's not really a habit of mine to ask for help."

"Then maybe we can make it a habit."

She was scheming with Lani and Margo, wasn't she? She had to. The two were probably crammed underneath the desk waiting to jump out the second Alex admitted that he needed help. Oh, he wasn't going to give them that satisfaction of- Oh no. He was an idiot, wasn't he.

"Alex, again, I can't do as much for you as maybe I'd like to. Have you perhaps considered getting professional help?" Miss Clair attempted to smile, which she was usually really good at, except for now.

She had this kind face, framed by long straight blonde hair, with a smile so honest, with warm eyes despite being steel coloured. But now, she seemed awkward, almost. Still genuine, definitely, but not as confident in her words. Or maybe the effect of her words on Alex.

"Professional help meaning what?" He knew exactly what it meant. But he sure as fuck didn't like the idea of it too much.

"I am in contact with multiple very excellent therapists over in Bellworth. I'm sure we could organise you a session or two to just test it out and see if that's something you could consider."

"Actually, I already am considering something very helpful in Bellworth, I have a tattoo appointment booked there in about a month, and that's-"

"You're very funny," Miss Clair interrupted him, the smile on her face having faded near completely. "I'm serious, Alex. These people are amazing at their job and they can help you so much more than I can, or a tattoo appointment for that matter. If you're worried over wait lists, I'm sure we can work something out where I assist you a little. I have contacts, so-"

"That's super kind of you, Miss Clair, but-" But what? What made Alex so afraid of the simple concept of therapy? Everyone went to therapy nowadays. It was as normal as eating and drinking and going to sleep. In fact, not seeing a therapist was something of a red flag. Of course, Alex really kind of was a walking red flag, so like, whatever.

"What is it that's worrying you? If it's the fees, I promise you we can work something out-"

Not the fees. Well, yes, the fees as well, because therapy was expensive as hell and smoking weed with Margo was free and made him feel equally as exposed.

There it was, exposed, that was the word he was looking for. He didn't want to expose himself. He'd barely been able to tell Youngbin what was going on with him, and even Lani, who'd known him for a good decade now, didn't know all of his secrets, all of his aches and problems and frankly worrying thoughts.

So why would he tell a stranger about them? And why would he then let that stranger tell him how to stop being miserable? What was some guy that didn't know him in the slightest ever going to do to help him?

And what if he couldn't be saved? What if all they could do was listen to him and shake their heads and go "That's it then. Sorry. We're gonna hang you now before you do that to yourself"? What if they got him on meds, like he could ever responsibly take those? Wasn't one of the side effects of antidepressants literally straight up suicide?

What if they told him shit he didn't want to hear? Something like "it's not that bad and you're just pretending" or "it's all your fault alone" or worse yet, "hey, you have in fact lived through abuse and I know you don't want to hear it but you're a victim" or some shit like that. Something exposing. Something true.

Alex had worked so hard to get where he was. He wasn't going to let some dude with a PhD in an office tear down all of his walls just to maybe, or maybe not, get some advice on how to be less fucked up.

He could also just hold Youngbin in his arms and heal like that. He could just soak up the love of his boyfriend and forget that life was the way that it was.

"It won't hurt to try," Miss Clair's voice cut through Alex' neverending train of thought that had started to lose itself in the Youngbin brain rot. "If it's not for you, and that's totally possible and valid, you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. But I'd like you to just take some steps forward. Even just one. You don't have to do it alone, but you need to take those steps nonetheless."

"What if it does hurt me?"

"Then you'll have learned something new. You'll still have grown because you've taken a step forward."

"Okay." Alex sighed, closing his eyes for a second. "You do sound like a therapist already, and no offence, but I don't think I can reveal my deepest darkest secrets when someone answers me by saying "Oh, you have grown". Like, I don't know. Stop being so serious about it. I don't like that."

Miss Clair sighed, then smiled, a little frustrated. She wouldn't show this through her voice though, nor through her words directly.

"I understand that, Alex. You're not used to being taken seriously."

There it was again. Why was Tessa Clair a teacher when she could just become a therapist on the spot, with speak like this? Why was she telling him this? She was right, and Alex knew that she was right, but that didn't mean he needed to- wanted to hear that.

"But maybe that will do wonders for you, having someone who treats your problems seriously. If there's someone who understands you-"

"Lani understands me. Margo does, too."

"And do they ever have some serious talks with you?"

"Yes, and it really sucks, actually."

"See." Miss Clair gestured vaguely with her hand, as though to point out something Alex had just laid out on the desk in front of them. "Give someone the chance to take you seriously. Give someone the chance to explore you a little."

Alex was going to say something about being explored, but bit his tongue before he could open his mouth.

"It's just an offer. Don't believe that I'm pressuring you into anything. But it's an offer I'm serious about."

"I really appreciate that, Miss." Alex bowed his head a little. "I'll consider- I'll think about it."

"That's nice to hear already." She nodded, smiled, then leaned back in her chair as her face changed from the warm smile into the kind of expression that was something of a warning, letting him know that she wasn't done with him just yet, and that from now on, things would get unpleasant.

Alex didn't want to hear it. This therapy talk had already been unpleasant enough.

"Now, I was also asked to talk to you about your grades-"

Oh, yeah, no. Fuck that.

"What if I told you that I'm super busy right now, and I actually need to leave right n-"

"No, Alex, we're gonna have to talk. Because I agree, we've got to do something. You have half a year left to turn things around."

Alex didn't move. Maybe if he stood still, she'd forget he was there. She didn't, obviously, her grey eyes staying fixated on him.

"You know I grade you very- Well, I personally believe I grade you correctly, based on the skill and knowledge I know you have. But you also know that not every teacher knows how smart you are, and you're not really giving them a chance to find out."

"I was at maths class today," Alex quickly threw in. Not that he was giving anyone the chance to find out that he had anything up in that brain of his.

"That is- That's a step. Very nice. Now, I don't know how busy you still are, if you're still currently working, but I think it would be very beneficial for you to at least pick a few subjects to focus on and regularly attend. It will do wonders, really."

Miss Clair had been one of the only teachers back then that got to know why Alex had started skipping school. Her, and Alex had tried to tell Mister Carter as well- who ended up simply telling him to focus on school, and spend all the time he was wasting on trying to escape a terrible home on studying.

Miss Clair had reacted with understanding. Had asked him if he needed help finding an apartment. Had suggested jobs that paid better. And even then, had mentioned therapy. She'd listened. She'd offered herself to be what any teacher should be. Someone to trust. A safe space. A friend, in some strange vague way.

"We also have tutoring programs, you know that."

As if that would be an option for Alex. As if he was ever going to let some nerd he didn't know teach him algebra. The tutoring program was basically student led, and mainly targeted at the younger students. Now imagine having Alex Hill walk in and tell you that he needed you to tell him how to count to ten.

Oh no, but he had his own nerd, he now realised. He didn't need the help of a stranger when there was one smart guy right there ready to teach him about the world and tell him how to be smarter.

"I think," Alex said, clearing his throat, "I have some people that would be willing to help me. With studying and all that. Real geniuses."

And not just Youngbin, who was kind of good at everything, he also had Lani, who was a history nerd, and Margo, who surely was also good at various subjects, at least good enough to help Alex.

"Will you actually study or will you just hang out with your friends with your textbooks open?"

"That is a question I cannot answer at this time, Miss Clair."

How long had he been in that office? All the rooms of Miller High had this special ability to completely swallow time. The windows were never large enough, or clean enough, or maybe the sky was never bright enough to be able to tell how many minutes, hours had passed outside of this massive concrete building.

But, in the end, this had felt... insightful, to say the least. Not that Alex wanted to admit that he was considering therapy, or maybe tutoring, or the general notion of starting to "take steps into the right direction", but things did float around in his head now. The idea of healing and maybe being a little happier. The idea that he could be happier, like actually. That maybe he could lead a regular ass life at some point.

If only he improved his grades- No. It wasn't like better grades could turn his life around at once, he knew that, and Miss Clair had tried her very best to let him know that grades and school and graduation wasn't the only thing that counted in life. But perhaps it would help him find a little more stability. For now. Just for those last few months.

Oh, so there he was, he did admit that maybe he should at least try to put some effort into school again. He still wouldn't consider the therapy thing though. Not for now. Maybe later.

"There you are!" As soon as Alex had stepped out of the office, Youngbin's clear voice reached his ears like the chiming of bells. "I was looking for you, Margo said you were talking to Miss Clair."

"Oh," Alex made, letting Youngbin wrap his arms around him. "Yeah. Sorry, I forgot to tell you."

"No need to apologise. What'd you talk about?"

"Just-" Alex hummed. Plenty. A lot. Life and shit.

"Are you okay?" Youngbin then added, worry in his voice, when Alex must've stayed silent for a little too long.

"Oh, yeah, for sure. She's fine, don't worry. Miss Clair's great. Uhm." She was just telling me to get therapy. Alex didn't want to say that. At all. "She was offering me some help I guess. With my life and all."

"Very cryptic." Youngbin now let go of Alex, crossing his arms as he scanned his boyfriend. "And did you accept that help, by any chance?"

Now that was the hard hitting question. Not yet, he listened to it, but hadn't quite accepted it.

"Do you think I need therapy?"

"For sure," Youngbin answered, a little too quickly, too confidently. "Like, absolutely."

"Wow. Thanks."

"But you already knew that, Alex."

"I did." Alex sighed, stretched his arms out as he began walking- somewhere. He wasn't sure if he still had any classes now, or if school was over, or what day of the week it was. Youngbin followed him without question though. "But like, you didn't need to tell me like that."

"But I'm right. You know therapy is nothing bad, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, stop with that Instagram mental health infographic talk. I know. I just-" Don't want to. "I'm not sure. Whatever."

"Whatever," Youngbin repeated, though with a smile on his face, like he was thinking of something, knowing something that Alex didn't.

"So, on another note- You're good at maths, right?"

"I'm not really, no. Why?"

"Because I think I probably need some tutoring or else I will die."

"And I'm supposed to tutor you? In maths?"

"I thought you were good at it, because you're, you know... A nerd."

"I'm a Shakespear nerd and not a maths nerd, sadly." Youngbin sighed as he grabbed Alex' hand, intertwining their fingers.

"But you know the basics."

"I suppose I do."

"So you could- Bin, I literally just need someone to help me with my homework. And help me to at least not fail. Like anything is fine. Or at least some motivation to study?"

"Oh, that's it? Motivation? You want me to be your little cheerleader?"

"Yes, that too, but I also genuinely want you to study with me."

"Study or make out in the library?"

"Both. But also study. Like actually."

"Really?"

"Don't seduce me, you demon. If I fail that class I'll blame it on you."

"Has the cringe little nerd tempted you with his incredible autistic sex appeal again?"

"You're annoying."

"I told you, you've been making me worse."

"Yeah. I think I really like you like that though. But I still need you to help me be better. At school, at least."

-----

WC: 4677

an update? posted in time for friday? i cant even believe it! here's a very talk-y chapter. is alex ever going to go to therapy? will he find out how  to do simple addition and subtraction? who knows!