20 November 2014 @ 09:23 pm
Title: Upside Down
Author: [livejournal.com profile] kaossbells & [livejournal.com profile] mcsparklez
Beta: the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] gypsyjaeger
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Belldom
Summary: Based on the mkmeme prompt: A rich music collector has almost everything he ever craved for, almost. One special object is still missing in his collection: Matthew Bellamy!
Warnings: language, violence
Feedback: Is like Matt Bellamy bathing in red glitter; fabulous.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and has never happened. We do not own any of the people mentioned and do not mean to offend.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3a] [Chapter 3b] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5a] [Chapter 5b] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7a] [Chapter 7b] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10a] [Chapter 10b] [Chapter 10c] [Chapter 10d] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12a] [Chapter 12b] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14a] [AO3]


“You could be my luck. Even if the sky is falling down, I know that we'll be safe and sound.”

The drummer sang along to the single charts that were currently being played on the radio while swirling through the kitchen like a minor hurricane. Sparked with a new idea, his mood had lifted remarkably. Just this morning he’d remembered Matt’s wish for a pasta dinner. That had been the day he’d gotten released from the hospital but with everything that hadn’t happened since then, Dom had completely forgotten about it. Since Matt had always been a devotee of everything culinary, maybe this was the way to go. A special, albeit late, celebration dinner. And just maybe a slightly different approach to his everlasting silence was just what they both needed.

Said silence even extended to music now. Dom hadn’t expected Matt to go back to playing. No, that wasn’t it at all. But the singer wasn’t even willing to listen to music anymore. One time, about two weeks ago, Dom had tried to lure Matt out of his hiding place in the garden by playing his favourite Rachmaninov piano concert. You wouldn’t even believe how badly that one had backfired. The singer had actually been mad at Dom, spitting spiteful words at him and running off like some maniac. Even the sheer sight of instruments seemed to instill a sense of panic and fear in Matt. Once Dom had seen him eyeing one of the guitars Chris had brought over (just in case…) like it was about to attack him any second. His attitude towards music had changed so much that the drummer had caught himself fearing for the band’s future once or twice.

While the spaghetti were already cooking in a large pan of salted water, he tossed some garlic and chilli into the heated olive oil. The smell instantly took over the kitchen and it was only then that Dom realised that he was pretty hungry himself. All the better, he thought and stirred the spaghetti. If the smell was already this good down here, it would only take a few more minutes until it reached Matt’s room. And if there was one thing he knew about Matt, it was that he could never block out a good aroma.

“I could fill your cup. You know my river won't evaporate, this world we still appreciate,” he sang on, a bit out of tune but in high spirits. He’d already set the table and now added prawns, white wine and some of his self-made tomato purée to the garlic. Then he hurried to the living room and put a small, not too obvious candle in the middle of the table. The drummer had come to the conclusion that music wouldn’t be too good an idea for tonight. Not after Matt’s reaction to the last time he’d tried to make him listen to some. Still, Dom didn’t feel quite ready to let it go just yet. There were other ways to create a sort of romantic atmosphere. Good food, wine, and candle light were classics and they’d always worked before. Why not now? Well, of course the situation was eons more difficult now, but they were still Matt and Dom, right? Somewhere deep down they had to be.

Quickly he went back to the kitchen, just in time so the pasta wouldn’t be overcooked. He tossed it with the sauce, squeezed in some lemon juice for extra flavour, and added half of the rocket he’d chopped before.

“Hey brother, there’s an endless road to re-discover. Hey sister, know the water's sweet but blood is thicker. Oh, if the sky comes falling down for you, there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do.” The song had changed, but Dom was still singing. Usually Matt would be right there to make fun of him and he would shrug it off with an half-earnest smile, happy to have at least entertained his little shit of a friend a bit.

“What’s up with the singing and the smell, I… Oh. You really are cooking.”

Abruptly Dom shot around to find Matt standing awkwardly in the doorway. Yes! There it was! The tiniest hint of a smile seemed to be tugging on the corner of Matt’s lips and if that wasn’t an improvement, then nothing was.

“Why are you so surprised?” he replied in mock offense, but reduced his singing to quiet humming.

“I’m not, it’s just…” Matt leant forward a bit to get a better look at the food Dom had been about to serve. “Are those prawns?”

“They are indeed,” the drummer replied with an inner yell of triumph.

“Looks delicious.” Matt took a careful step into the kitchen and lifted his nose to take in some more of the smell. “But what’s the occasion?”

Wow, Dom couldn’t even remember the last time a conversation between them had gone so smoothly. And wasn’t that a sad observation?

“Well, I thought we could both use some nice food for once. No take away or leftovers. What do you think?”

“It really is nice…” The singer mused, but seemed to hesitate then. To Dom it looked like he had just started yet another inner fight with himself. So it took him a few moments until he was able to finish his sentence. “I think… I think we should eat. My stomach’s on a rampage already.”

“Great!” Dom said a bit overenthusiastically and went back to finishing the dishes. “Why don’t you take the wine to the living room? I’ll be there in a tick.”

“Okay…” And then Matt vanished into said room.

With a spring to his step, Dom followed Matt with the pasta and put it down on the table. Then he focused on the singer again who was now standing behind his chair, eyeing Dom’s handiwork almost suspiciously. Especially the single, white candle seemed to have caught his attention. The drummer tried to ignore how his heart was sinking. Had he overdone it? Was this already too much? But Matt had been so positive back in the kitchen! No, this was good. It was good for the both of them. They needed this.

“Sit,” Dom said gently so as not to make it sound like an order and then sat down himself.

Wordlessly Matt sank down on the chair on the opposite side of the table. For a few seconds he kept twitching and scooted back and forth until he found a comfortable position for his legs. He’s acting like he’s never sat on a chair before, Dom caught himself thinking.

Quickly he pulled himself together so as not to make Matt uncomfortable with his silent staring. Instead he smiled at the brunette and then simply dug in. As if on cue, Matt did the same and soon enough they were enveloped by the pleasant sound of two people eating with relish. Glasses clinking, forks rolling up pasta, passionate chewing… It was all there and for the first time in ages they both seemed to be moderately relaxed in each other’s presence. Until Dom opened his mouth, that is.

“How are you today? It feels like we haven’t talked properly in forever.”

“Uhm… I’m fine…” Immediately Matt tensed up and let his fork sink back to the plate.

“Would you like to watch some telly after dinner? There’s this great new show on world history. Not the boring stuff you can’t follow for more than a few minutes. It’s actually quite fun and I think today’s episode is about Tibet. Should be interesting, don’t you think?” Hell, when exactly had he become the rambler out of the two?

“I don’t know, Dom…” Matt rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort and stole a longing glance towards the hallway. “I don’t feel like… uhm... “

“Ah, no need to panic. S’all good. I just thought it’d be nice to hang out together. You know, since you’re living here and all… And… because… I mean…” He reached out for the singer’s hand that was resting at the edge of the table, thumbing the back of it. “It’s been a while since we’ve spent some time together and I… dunno…”

That was exactly the moment Dom didn’t know what to say anymore. Matt didn’t say anything and didn’t react. He only stared at the blonde with wide eyes. Now or never, he thought and walked around the table, over to Matt. He leant down and gingerly pressed his lips to Matt’s, leaving himself no time to overthink his actions. He could feel him tense up immediately, and when the brunette pushed him away he knew his advances weren’t welcomed.

“What the fuck, Matt?” Dom couldn’t stop himself from saying, shock, embarrassment and the pain of rejection battling for the upper hand in his head.

“Stop it! I… no… I can’t… Dom, I’m… I can’t do this,” the completely shaken singer spat bitterly at him and, without so much as a second glance, literally made a run for it.

Dom didn’t even have enough time to process what was going on when Matt’s door was pulled shut with a loud bang. Now he was just standing there, confused, disappointed and humiliated. His eyes were still on the space his friend’s body had occupied only seconds earlier.
“What the hell just happened?” he whispered to himself and buried his face in his hands.

Matt couldn’t do this? Did he mean their current situation? Them being friends? Or… them being romantically involved? The latter would at least explain the lack of a reply to his love confession and, considering what’d just happened, was probably the most obvious choice. But… he’d always thought that… that Matt felt the same about him. Or so he’d hoped. Could he really have been so wrong about him all the time? Had Matt just tried to humour him? To keep him at it until someone ‘better’ came along? No, that was bullshit… But… really… was it? Maybe Matt felt indebted to him since he’d been there for him ever since his return? Did he feel like he owed Dom? Was that the reason why he’d become so bitter? This was ridiculous! Why wasn’t everything fine like it was supposed to be? Matt had practically returned from the almost dead, they’d suffered apart and now together, so everything could go back to normal afterwards. Better than normal. He’d wished for so much more although he knew the return of a living Matt should have been enough. But now he felt betrayed, if he was completely honest with himself. Here! This! It should be a happy ending! Yes, exactly like Hollywood propagated. After the big trial there was always a happy ending! Why not for them? He didn’t understand.

In sudden exhaustion and overdue resignation Dom let himself fall onto the chair Matt had occupied moments ago and his forehead hit the tabletop forcefully when a dry sob escaped his lips. This was so unfair. They’d fought so hard to be together again and now Matt didn’t want to. He’d offered his innermost feelings on a silver tablet for his best friend to see. And now he’d stomped them into the ground.

“Thanks, Matt. Very much,” he breathed onto the polished wood of the table. “I still love you, though…”


“Good evening, gents!”

Chris entered Dom’s place, carrying a sixpack of beer for his friends and another pack of Red Bull for himself. Dom grinned at him broadly, glad for the distraction from his grey daily routine.

The bassist situated himself on the sofa while Dom knocked at Matt’s door to let him know they had a visitor.

“Sorry, busy at the moment,” was the curt and quiet reply.

“Are you, now?” Dom asked. “Come on. Knock down a couple of drinks with us.”

“Maybe later, okay?”

The blonde sighed. “Whatever.”

Matt was doing it again, and now he was doing it with Chris around as well. Dom didn’t know if it was a consolation to know that it wasn’t only him Matt was treating like this, or if it made the whole matter worse. Either way, he needed that sixpack, and if he had to empty the bottles alone, then he would.

He sat down heavily next to Chris, already opening the first can, when the bassist asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Fine. Just fine.”

Chris didn’t seem convinced, but didn’t push it further, so they turned to their respective drinks and chatted about this and that.

At some point Matt joined them quietly, only raising his hand in a greeting before he slumped down in the armchair opposite of them. He didn’t contribute to the conversation, but watched them with hawkeyes, as if he was expecting them to jump at him any second.

“So, how have you been doing?” Chris finally asked and turned his eyes to Matt.

The singer in question only shrugged in reply and Dom frowned. “You can give a proper answer, you know.”

“Am doing okay, thanks.”

“Glad to hear, mate. Glad to hear.” Chris grinned and raised his Red Bull.

Conversation didn’t change much after that, with Chris and Dom still doing the main part, while Matt added a couple of comments to whatever topics they were on. Dom wasn’t exactly interested in what Matt had to say nowadays, so he focused his attention on Chris who updated them on the latest in his family life. It made Dom incredibly happy to hear about the peace and joy the bassist was experiencing again after all the hardships, but at the same time it made him very bitter and jealous because he couldn’t have that. He wanted his own happy end.

“So what about you guys? Any future plans?”


Chris leaned back and looked between the 2 of them. “I figured we could get back into the studio at some point. Or, you know, just get out for a bit, take a holiday together. Don’t care.”

Dom looked over to Matt who’d busied himself with the label of his bottle. He tried hard to appear as if he hadn’t heard Chris, but the blonde knew it was a ruse. It made him incredibly angry, knowing that Matt just couldn’t be bothered to answer a simple question. Especially one coming from Chris, who’d been nothing but nice and supportive.

The bassist looked between them, unsure if he’d said anything wrong when Matt got up and smiled at them. “Sorry about bolting, but I’m not feeling well at the moment.”

“Are you fucking serious, Matt?” Dom growled.

“If it’s something I said-”

“No, no. I’ll just be going back to my room. Was nice talking to you, mate.”

He left in a hurry then, and Dom downed his beer.

“Is he alright?” Chris asked him and the blonde shook his head.

“Fuck if I know. Fuck if I care. It’s the same bullshit over and over again.”

“Dom, what are you even talking about?” The bassist looked a little lost in the face of Dom’s harsh words.

“Everything! Him!” He gestured towards the door Matt had just vanished through. “In case you haven’t noticed, he isn’t quite himself lately. And that’s nicely put.”

“Yeah well, what did you expect?” Chris frowned at his friend and straightened up a bit.

“I don’t know… Not for him to behave like a fucking dick, at least. He’s not talking, he’s not willing to do anything outside this house, he’s basically doing nothing. At least not anything involving me. Fuck knows what he’s doing in his bedroom all day. Could be building a bomb or whatever. Most likely he’s just eking out his oh so miserable existence. Shit Chris, he’s practically returned from the dead! Why’s he not high on endorphins? Oh and by the way, I told him that I love him. No reaction whatsoever.”

“Dom…” Chris gave him a pained look and inclined his head. “I know… I know how hard this has to be on you. But don’t you see how much he’s still suffering? Getting back to your everyday life after such an unspeakable thing… it has to be the most difficult undertaking ever.”
“Yeah, but how is he supposed to get better? He’s not making the slightest effort! And what about you and me? Of course he suffered the most, but we went through hell as well.”

“Have you 2 maybe considered a therapy? I know he wouldn’t like it very much, but if it’s as bad as you say… Maybe it’d be for the best.” Chris bit his lip in thought and his features showed all his concern for his two friends.

“No, we haven’t. I have. But he’s not crazy!” As much as Dom wanted Matt to get better again, the idea of a therapy sounded very different from Chris’ mouth than it did in his head. “We could do this if he finally stopped being so fucking stubborn. We’ve seen-”

“No, Dom. No. Neither we, nor you or Matt have seen worse. Ever. And I want you to stop thinking like that. You’re completely pissed and on edge. And stop defending him. That won’t help anyone. How is he supposed to realise how bad it actually is when you both refuse to see it? I’m pretty much on the outside and I can see that nothing is alright, least of all you 2.” The bassist tilted his head and, as always, remained as calm as humanly possible. The rational, level headed bastard.

“And when have you become a therapist?” the drummer replied, annoyed by how reasonable Chris sounded.

“First time I met you two. Otherwise at least one of us would’ve ended up with a guitar over his head long ago,” the taller man said, giving his friend a sad smile. Slowly the tension left the room again, and Dom felt exhausted. So he just nodded with a small smile of his own.

“Sounds about right.”

“Please think about it, Dom. If anyone can get him to do it, it’s you.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do.” The bassist nodded. “I wish I could help you more, but I don’t think that would be appreciated.”

The blonde shook his head. “No. No, it’s better only one of us loses his mind.”

He sighed and opened another beer, downing it in one go. Chris watched him quietly, until conversation flowed away from the enigma locked up in the guest room.


Boiling. There was no other word for it, Dom’s insides were boiling. Hot, white and painful. Today was one of these days where he couldn’t even be bothered to try and stay level headed. The singer had done it again; thrown him a metaphorical bone and taken it away as soon as it was within Dom’s reach. Sure he knew that Matt had gone through some tough shit, but that was really no reason to behave like one huge dick. Dom had tried everything. Everything! But whenever he risked another try at getting closer to the singer, he simply shut himself off more, ran away, or downright ignored the drummer. The man knew that he loved him and yet he didn’t make the slightest effort to at least acknowledge it.

Seriously, Dom didn’t expect much of his traumatised bandmate. Hell, he understood why Matt was still frightened at night, why he was uncertain about social interaction and sometimes needed some physical and mental space to himself. But… they’d always trusted each other, always had had each other’s backs. Why didn’t Matt trust him now? Why didn’t he just talk to him? Dom was so convinced that talking about it would speed up the healing process that he’d secretly contacted a therapist for his friend, to explain the situation and maybe get some advice on how to help the singer. Yes, that’s how desperate the drummer was. He’d gone behind Matt’s back and done something the singer would very likely loathe him for. But whatever… he was so very much past caring.

By now he felt like the babysitter of an enormously disturbed toddler. Seriously, if Dom didn’t make him eat, the singer would have probably starved already. Running after him, trying to tend to his needs while not knowing what it was that he really needed. Because he refused to just fucking talk! The whole situation made him want to tear his hair. Or smash his head into a wall. Constantly. No measures seemed drastic enough for him. Somewhere deep down he knew that it was an unfair thought but he couldn’t help feeling like Matt was somehow using him. Dom had never had a problem with giving, but it was draining him so much because the singer offered next to nothing in return. He wasn’t doing this to get anything from his friend, no. But couldn’t he at least stop avoiding Dom? Maybe acknowledge his efforts? Was that really too much to ask?

The drummer felt like the changes in Matt were changing him, too. He didn’t know when he’d become such a bitter cynic. Apart from the singer’s former self, he also missed his own attitude towards life now. Where there had been smiles, fun and appreciation for each other before, there was now suspicion, reluctance and resentment. Everything he had usually defined himself and his connection with Matt by had vanished into nothing. It was only understandable that Dom hated it. Right now he hated pretty much everything. And some subconscious part of him blamed Matt for it. Something he hated himself for even more.

He was lounging on the couch in front of the telly, not paying any attention to the programme as he was completely consumed by his thoughts. It was then that Matt decided to grace him with his ever so delightful presence. The singer didn’t even have to say anything to annoy the shit out of Dom. Not that they were talking much anyway…

“What are you up to?” the drummer asked, already on edge again.

“Nothing.” Matt’s voice had taken on this muffled, diminutive sound again that made Dom want to shake him senseless.



“Telly. The programme sucks, though.”

“What’re you watching?”

“No idea.”

Wow, this was literally the longest, smoothest conversation they’d had in days. And for some reason Dom didn’t feel like continuing it. Not like this, anyway. He muted the TV and slowly turned his head towards Matt who was sitting in the armchair next to the couch, visibly stiffening at the unwanted scrutiny. The drummer narrowed his eyes at him and sat up a bit straighter.

“Not enough entertainment up there anymore?” he asked sharply and glanced up at the ceiling for a second.

At that Matt’s eyes turned harder and he bit his lip as if to keep his words in.

“I mean, you don’t seem to enjoy being in the same room with me lately,” Dom elaborated and turned his gaze to one of the windows. “Let alone talking to me. What changed your mind?”

“I…” the singer stammered, obviously suppressing his own anger. His hands were tightly clasping his knees, effectively making his knuckles turn white. “I’m just socialising.”

“Socialising?” Dom barked a laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Very much so.”

“I can’t believe it…” the drummer muttered under his breath and again locked eyes with Matt. “You’re the most unsociable person on this planet right now. And you don’t even seem to see that! Seriously Matt, what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing!” the singer spat back bitterly. “I’m fine.” But he obviously wasn’t if his trembling hands or averted eyes were anything to go by.
Dom had been patient. He’d waited so long for Matt to come around. If he didn’t want to, though, there was no other way than to say it straight to his face. Otherwise Dom would probably explode with all the bottled up feelings sooner than later.

“Do you really not see the mess you’re making? Don’t you realise how much you’re hurting me with this?” By now the drummer was too agitated to remain seated so he stood up, looking down at Matt with resentment dominating his every feature. “Look at what this is doing to the people around you, Matt! I mean, look at us for fuck’s sake! Do you even recognise yourself anymore? You’re avoiding me like I’m contagious… Really, you need help.”

Matt’s tension was tangible, adding one more barrier to the many between the two musicians. He opened his mouth then to reply to Dom’s reproaches. But no sound made it past his pale lips. Anger had taken hold of him, too, and he jumped up in one rapid motion, coming dangerously close to the drummer. For a second their eyes were locked again and it almost looked as if the smaller man was about to throw a punch, but then he broke away to quickly make his escape. But Dom didn’t feel quite ready to let him off the hook so easily. So he took two steps and effectively blocked Matt’s way out.

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re not fucking off again now! It’s time to talk straight. I don’t give a flying fuck if you feel like it or not. I feel like it and this has been about you long enough. You know, I have feelings, too.” While he knew this sounded quite pathetic the words were out before he could stop himself.

“Leave me alone,” the singer bit back and tried to evade Dom.

“Yeah, no. I’ve done that and it didn’t work. We’re doing this my way now.” When had he become so aggressive? So not him? He didn’t like himself very much in that moment, to say the least. But they were past the point of return. The drummer grabbed Matt’s wrist and forced him to look him in the eyes again. “This is not you!” Ah yes, there was his desperation again. “I can’t do this anymore, Matt! If you really, honestly don’t want to talk to me, say it. To my face.”

Tears were visibly pricking at the singer’s blazing blue eyes and he stared at Dom in baffled disbelief. Then his features hardened again and he ripped himself free from Dom’s tight grip. “I don’t want to talk to you. Happy now?” he almost shouted and then, without waiting for a reply, ran past Dom, into the hallway and up the stairs. The sound of his bedroom door banging shut echoed through Dom’s head for hours after.

Later that night Dom stepped into his bedroom and shot a glance over his shoulder. Across the hallway there was Matt’s room, the door left open just a tiny bit. Its default setting nowadays. Its openness wasn’t to be mistaken for an invitation. Especially not after their fruitless talk.

“Talk,” Dom laughed sarcastically to himself. In hindsight he knew how big of an arsehole he’d been to Matt. He couldn’t deny that it’d felt a bit liberating to finally vent at least some of his frustration on the singer, though.

A thin beam of light was falling onto the dark wooden floor and Dom didn’t know if he felt reassured by it or not. Despite the growing emotional gap between the 2, he’d noticed that Matt didn’t sleep well. In fact that had always been quite a problem for the singer. But now… To Dom it seemed like Matt didn’t sleep at all. Sometimes exhaustion took reign and he just fell asleep wherever he was sitting at the time, of course. But going to bed with the purpose of resting didn’t work anymore.

With a sigh he half closed his door and went over to the wardrobe to find something to wear for the night. His last outfit was in the laundry as he had spent one sweaty night in it, trying to fall asleep while Matt had obviously been wandering through the house. The thought of losing him again was now so deeply anchored in his personality that he wouldn’t fall asleep until Matt was at least in his bed. Of course this was taking its toll on him, too. Everything was. He wouldn’t be Dom if he’d actually stopped caring, no matter how often he tried to convince himself of the opposite. Because not caring didn’t hurt so much. He wished he could make it stop. Make everything stop.

There, just next door, was the one person he had been prepared to die for. Still was. And he was acting completely out of it. They both were. Well, obviously. But he didn’t seem to reciprocate any of his feelings. They were living in the same house at the moment, but nothing suggested that Matt had any interest in actually conversing with him. Frankly, Dom didn’t know what to do about it, anymore. He’d never been this much out of his depth before.

Slowly he let himself sink onto the mattress and pulled the covers over his tired body. Oh, it felt good… He tried to close his eyes and let himself be taken over by sweet, nightly unconsciousness. But with a deep inner sigh he realised the one problem that stood between him and his deserved rest. He couldn’t. Almost annoyed he opened his eyes again and rolled on his side so he could watch the door.

The blonde didn’t expect Matt to just walk in, no. He had done stuff like that in the past just because he had felt like it, yes. But now the situation was completely different. Matt had shut himself off from him further than ever. There was none of his former effortlessness or impulsiveness left in him. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t relax, he didn’t play, he didn’t joke. Sometimes Dom wasn’t even sure if he smiled anymore. Maybe those were just random motions of his facial muscles, simply born from disuse.

Then it started once again. Dom’s eyes were trained on the gap between door and frame immediately, and he watched as the light in Matt’s room was being switched on and off again and again. Sometimes it took the singer a bit longer to figure out if light was preferable to darkness. He always went back on his decision a moment later anyway.

Dom didn’t know what to do. There were soft footsteps in the room across. Apparently Matt was walking back and forth, but trying not to disturb Dom in the process. Sometimes he could also hear the springs of the bed. Those were the moments Matt sat down, satisfied with his decision, just before he would get up again to walk back to the switch.

In a way Dom felt quite aggravated by Matt’s behaviour. But not in the way it had aggravated him before everything. Matt didn’t bounce around anymore because he didn’t know how to release his energy. He didn’t wake him at night to tell him about some strange ideas or lizard queens. Honestly, he didn’t do much at all lately. He just… he aggravated Dom.

Rather annoyed with everything (and especially himself, for all his inabilities) he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled a pillow over his head. When he could still hear Matt pacing around his room, though, he pressed the soft fabric to his ears, wishing for him to just go away. He felt like a helpless child then. He couldn’t deal with the situation anymore and felt close to his breaking point again. It felt even worse than when he’d worried about Matt’s life. Because then it hadn’t been his fault, not really. But now it kind of was. At least partly. What the hell had he done to deserve all of this?

With yet another sigh the blonde turned over to his other side and willed himself to fall asleep while a tiny switch was flicked over and over and over again.
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