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aussielawyerWho: Mark and Justin Campbell
What: Breaking the news
Where: Four Winds, Westchester
When: Simultaneous to this
Mark nodded in thanks to the nurse who had let him into Justin’s hospital room, and waited until she left. Hunter had gone home for the day, but Mark knew Justin trusted all the staff here. Even if he hated being mentally ill and being in hospital, he knew he needed it and he felt safe here. That was all that mattered. It didn’t get easier for his loved ones to see him locked up like this, no matter the frequency of it. But it was vital for his safety, until he stabilised again there was no longer an immediate risk of harming himself.
Once the door clicked closed, leaving them with some privacy, Mark came over and kissed Justin’s forehead, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. “Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?” He looked a little more with it than Mark’s last visit, like maybe he had gotten some rest and the medication was beginning to work. Still like he had been hit by a bus, but Mark would take any tiny fragment of improvement because he knew how much Justin fought to achieve it every time he had an episode.
“Bit better,” Justin confirmed. With a carefully juggled cocktail of medications, he had finally gotten to a point where he could cope with how he was feeling. Talking to Sasha had helped a lot. It was the first time he told anyone most of that stuff and even if it didn’t take it away or cease it existing in his head, it made it real to confirm it. Real meant not all locked away in his head literally driving him crazy. It was the small victories right now. Anything else was too overwhelming for him to deal with. “I know I’ve been pretty bad this time, Dad. I didn’t know what to do…”
Mark took his son’s hand, rubbing the back of it with some small, rhythmic circles. “Do you know what I was thinking about today? Those early days I first had you. How sick you were when you came and found me, everything you battled to be diagnosed by Nate. How strong you were letting yourself trust me and be your dad. I remember sitting on the bathroom floor with you, stroking your hair while you had your head in my lap, crying because everything was too much for you. I knew there was so much more than you were able to express. I didn’t even fathom it all could have been so much worse. But even through all that, carrying the full story around in your mind that it was crushing under the weight, you were a sweet and beautiful kid. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not proud to call you my son. I want you to know that.”
“And I’m proud to call you my dad,” Justin murmured, managing a faint smile, even if his body was aching all over, inside and out. “But if you’re about to tell me you’re dying, you can fuck off.”
Mark smirked, accompanied by a little snort of amusement. “Don’t worry, you’re stuck with me, buddy.” Justin’s hint of banter was a good sign, a relieving sign. “Jus… your mother’s dead. She died sometime in the early hours of the morning. She’s gone, son, and we’re going to help you begin to remember how to breathe again.”
( Justin froze and his fingers tightened around his dad’s hand... )
LOG, COMPLETE
What: Breaking the news
Where: Four Winds, Westchester
When: Simultaneous to this
Mark nodded in thanks to the nurse who had let him into Justin’s hospital room, and waited until she left. Hunter had gone home for the day, but Mark knew Justin trusted all the staff here. Even if he hated being mentally ill and being in hospital, he knew he needed it and he felt safe here. That was all that mattered. It didn’t get easier for his loved ones to see him locked up like this, no matter the frequency of it. But it was vital for his safety, until he stabilised again there was no longer an immediate risk of harming himself.
Once the door clicked closed, leaving them with some privacy, Mark came over and kissed Justin’s forehead, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. “Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?” He looked a little more with it than Mark’s last visit, like maybe he had gotten some rest and the medication was beginning to work. Still like he had been hit by a bus, but Mark would take any tiny fragment of improvement because he knew how much Justin fought to achieve it every time he had an episode.
“Bit better,” Justin confirmed. With a carefully juggled cocktail of medications, he had finally gotten to a point where he could cope with how he was feeling. Talking to Sasha had helped a lot. It was the first time he told anyone most of that stuff and even if it didn’t take it away or cease it existing in his head, it made it real to confirm it. Real meant not all locked away in his head literally driving him crazy. It was the small victories right now. Anything else was too overwhelming for him to deal with. “I know I’ve been pretty bad this time, Dad. I didn’t know what to do…”
Mark took his son’s hand, rubbing the back of it with some small, rhythmic circles. “Do you know what I was thinking about today? Those early days I first had you. How sick you were when you came and found me, everything you battled to be diagnosed by Nate. How strong you were letting yourself trust me and be your dad. I remember sitting on the bathroom floor with you, stroking your hair while you had your head in my lap, crying because everything was too much for you. I knew there was so much more than you were able to express. I didn’t even fathom it all could have been so much worse. But even through all that, carrying the full story around in your mind that it was crushing under the weight, you were a sweet and beautiful kid. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not proud to call you my son. I want you to know that.”
“And I’m proud to call you my dad,” Justin murmured, managing a faint smile, even if his body was aching all over, inside and out. “But if you’re about to tell me you’re dying, you can fuck off.”
Mark smirked, accompanied by a little snort of amusement. “Don’t worry, you’re stuck with me, buddy.” Justin’s hint of banter was a good sign, a relieving sign. “Jus… your mother’s dead. She died sometime in the early hours of the morning. She’s gone, son, and we’re going to help you begin to remember how to breathe again.”
( Justin froze and his fingers tightened around his dad’s hand... )
LOG, COMPLETE
