12. catalyst

warning: depressive episode.

please skip if it could trigger you, i will give you a recap if you want it. <3

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CHAPTER TWELVE

CATALYST

—

The shower was starting to sting.

Typically, Dmitri wouldn't have minded the tiny sting that always accompanied the boiling hot showers that he took every morning; those were comforting. The warmth outweighed the sting with his daily hot showers.

Now, there was no warmth.

Every drop was pure fucking ice dripping down his back, soaking his t-shirt, the colour changing from red to maroon, pale grey sweatpants morphing into charcoal.

And still, he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

After wasting over three hours trying to convince himself to shower, he hoped that he could at least feel something when he did.

Numbly removing his soaking wet t-shirt, Dmitri sighed, that action, itself, feeling like a chore. And before he knew it, he was seated on the closed lid of the toilet, his sweatpants still heavy with ice cold water, a common result of taking a shower at two in the morning.

Body weighed down by the water, by his thoughts, Dmitri just sat there.

He sat there for a whole twenty minutes, alone with the whirring fan in the bathroom, the fluorescent white light, the cold tiles that were wet from his spontaneous shower, the pile of fresh clothes that were laying in a heap in front of him, the crushing thoughts that always, always made him want to disappear.

There was no way he could make it to work.

Or maybe he could. He always— well, almost always— did it when he was still teaching, albeit with immense difficulty. So, why couldn't he do it now, too? Why did his body hurt so much?

Just get up. Stand up. You can stand up.

Another ten minutes passed, and Dmitri still hadn't stood up. Or maybe it was less, more, he couldn't really tell.

Exactly eleven minutes later, he stood up.

Exhaling deeply, he changed out of his sweatpants, tugged on the fresh pair on the ground, not bothering to deal with his t-shirt or the wet clothes he had tossed on the ground, as he stumbled back into bed, the ache in his bones only increasing with each step.

Then, he pulled his blanket over his head, blocking out the rest of the world, because he couldn't deal with anymore noise.

There was enough of that in his brain.

—

When Dmitri woke up, it was bright outside.

The light hurt his eyes, intensifying his headache, and his nausea, and his stomach ache— stomach ache?— but he physically couldn't bring himself to move to close the curtains.

So, he just buried himself further under his blankets, deciding to just sleep the day away, hopefully sleep the episode away, too.

But someone ruined those plans, by pounding heavily on the door, yelling out a sharp, "D, it's so fuckin' late, the fuck are you still doin' in there? Get the fuck out!"

Too loud.

Since his mouth refused to co-operate with his mind which was telling him to open his mouth and yell out an equally sharp, Fuck off, Eden, he didn't say anything at all, just drifting in and out of consciousness.

However, this temporary peace was interrupted by Eden knocking on the door again, softer this time, her voice low as she said, "D? Everythin' okay?"

Again, he didn't respond. He couldn't respond.

"I'm comin' in, okay?" she asked softly, she was always soft when he got like this. "If you don't respond, I'm gonna come in. Okay?"

Don't come in. Please.

The door pushed open before he could even try to form a sentence, Eden entering the room, her heels clacking against the ground as she walked.

"Hey," she coaxed, and fuck, Dmitri had never hated himself more, because he probably looked like fucking trash, sick, and blank, and tired. "Is everythin' okay?"

"Yeah," he whispered back, the crack in his voice making him cringe inwardly. The fact that his first word of the day was a lie was, to put it plain and simple, disgusting.

Eden sighed, taking a seat on the bed and pulling the blankets slightly lower, just so that his whole face was visible, and not just a portion of it. "Are you gonna be going to work?"

I wish. "Can't." I fucking hate myself. I hate this. I hate everything.

A sympathetic look crossed Eden's face, her eyes softening considerably as she nodded, placing a warm hand on his face. God knows, he needed some warmth.

"It's okay." Was it? Was anything okay? "I promise, it's okay. Everything will be okay," she affirmed, the sadness that he had probably caused seeping through her tone.

"Leave, please."

"Okay," she murmured, taking her hand off his cheek. Almost immediately, he wanted it back. He needed it back, it was the only thing that was keeping him sane. Grounded. "I'll tell Trinh that you're sick. Brush your teeth if you can, and eat a granola bar from your drawer, okay? You'll be—"

"Eden, leave," he snapped harshly, because that was what he did. That was how he was. And Eden didn't deserve that.

She doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve me and my shit.

If Eden was hurt, she didn't show it. She just nodded, the bed creaking as she stood up, smoothening out her skirt and smiling, despite everything. Sometimes, Dmitri wished he could do that.

"I'll see you soon, Dmitri. I love you," she affirmed, and then, she left, the door clicking shut.

Right as she left, Juno hopped up onto the bed from her spot on the floor, curling up into a ball on Dmitri's bare chest, her fur feeling like fucking fire against his skin.

But he couldn't tell her to move. One, because he could never do that to Juno, and two, because he didn't have the fucking energy.

So he raised his hand and placed it on Juno's body, stroking her fur as he stared at the ceiling, mind just replaying the worst things that he could think of.

Sometimes, his mind was the darkest place he could be in.

Maybe it wasn't his mind, though. Maybe it was him.

He was the master of his own disaster, the catalyst to his own catastrophe. The best at fearing the worst, and the worst at feeling the best.

All he wanted was to feel without falling, falling, falling all the fucking time.

Apparently, that too much to ask for, so all he could do was sleep.

Sleep didn't solve anything, but he liked to pretend it did.

—

Waking up for the second time around with a full bladder wasn't a good feeling.

Waking up with a crying Juno was worse.

Immediately, Dmitri knew what was wrong. And he knew what he had done, or to put it better, what he hadn't done.

He was supposed to buy Juno's food today.

Food. It's been a while since I've eaten.

Small whimpers were coming from Juno now, ones that left a bitter taste on Dmitri's tongue. Or maybe that was the bile from his ever-present nausea. He couldn't really tell.

"Juno," he mumbled, taking her off his chest. "Hey, sweetheart. It's okay, I'll get you some food."

We don't have food at home. Fuck.

Technically, he should've gone to get the food the previous night. But he had felt off the whole day, and he just assumed the feeling would disappear in a few hours. Unfortunately, it didn't. And now there was no food for Juno.

"Please stop crying," he murmured, those three simple words feeling like a chore. Planting a kiss on the top of her head, he continued by saying, "I can do it. I can get you some food, I have to get out of bed to take a piss, anyway."

Still, he didn't do it.

He would have called Eden, if he didn't know that she was teaching right then. He couldn't call Trinh, they were definitely busy. They always were.

So, he dialed the only number he still knew by heart.

Tariq picked up on the fourth ring.

"Dmitri?"

Answer. I have to answer. God, I can't fucking answer.

"Hey. Is this Dmitri?"

"Yeah," he replied, finally, finally mustering up the energy to answer. "Yeah. This is Dmitri."

Tariq hummed into the phone, his voice clear amidst all the shuffling in the background. "How the fuck do you have—"

"I need to buy Juno's food." I should've done it yesterday. Why didn't I do it yesterday?

A beat of silence later, Tariq said, "Who in the fuck is Juno?" sounding more confused than ever.

"My cat."

Fuck, he was going to throw up. And he didn't even know why.

Maybe it was because he hadn't eaten a single bite of food in over twenty four hours. Yeah, that was probably the reason.

"You have a— never mind," Tariq huffed out, sounding as tired of Dmitri as he was. "Then buy the food," he suggested, like it was that easy. It should have been that easy.

Then buy the food. Buy the food. Just buy the fucking food.

"Yeah. Sorry." Please just offer to help me, I can't ask for it myself.

Tariq's frown was practically visible through the phone when he said, "Are you okay? Dmitri? Is everything okay?"

Nothing is okay. I fucking hate it here. I hate this. So much. "Yeah."

"Do you want me to buy the food for your cat?" Tariq asked, and all at once, the headache, the nausea, the everything became so much worse because there was so much guilt, and he hadn't told him about the fact that he had mentioned his ex-boyfriend during his drunken spiel, and it had been a whole week. A week.

Dmitri sighed. "No. I— I'll buy it. I just—"

"I can come over," Tariq said softly. "If that's what you want, I can do that. And we can go to the store together."

Again, Dmitri couldn't reply. It was just too exhausting. To do anything. I have to piss.

"Tr— Dmitri? Are you still there?"

"Yes. That works," he mumbled, and that was all he could say before he ended the call, his phone slipping out of his hands, because it was just too heavy to hold. He couldn't deal with more heavy.

Get up before you piss the fucking bed. Get up. Get the fuck up.

Twenty minutes later, he still hadn't gotten up, and somehow, without him even realising it, the door to his bedroom opened, just slightly, and Tariq's head popped in.

"Hey," he greeted, shooting him a wide smile, probably to make up for his lack of smiles. "Trinh gave me their key, sorry about that. Are you— is that your cat?"

Dmitri nodded, not even bothering about the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Tariq had seen it all, anyway. "Juno." I feel sick. So fucking sick.

"Cute name." Then, he looked around the room, eyes wandering around the mostly bare walls and the mess of clothes on the floor. Lips pulling downward into a frown, he continued, "Have you eaten anything today?"

No. "Yeah."

"The lies," he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. "Okay. Up you get!"

I can't. I literally can't fucking do it.

Sighing, Tariq made his way over to Dmitri on the bed, reaching out for the blankets and ripping them off his body. "Up, Dmitri," he instructed, voice still soft, but more commanding this time. "It's okay if you can't brush your teeth. Or your hair, that's growing at an incredibly rapid rate, for some reason. Or change your clothes. Just... Try to get out of bed."

I'm going to scream. "I need to piss," he muttered, nausea too overwhelming for him to even speak. "And put on a t-shirt. And throw up, I think. And then, I'll be good."

That was the most he had spoken for the whole day, he realised.

"And take your meds," Tariq reminded, even though it always used to be the other way around, Dmitri reminding Tariq. "You need to take your meds. And you're not going to throw up." You'd be surprised.

Legs finally co-operating with his brain, Dmitri got out of bed. He actually got out of bed, the floor tilting underneath him, and if Tariq didn't reach out to steady him and direct him to the bathroom, he would've crumpled into a paper ball on the floor.

"You're okay," he assured gently. "It's okay if all you do is throw on an old t-shirt. That's still a step, and I'm proud of you. Okay?"

My gums are so fucked. I should brush my teeth. "Get out so that I can take a piss."

Tariq nodded, looking at the bathroom tiles. The mess on the floor. The heap of wet clothes in one corner. The dry clothes in another.

Then, he picked up the wet clothes, before saying, "I'm putting these in the dryer. Is that okay?"

"Please just get the fuck out of the bathroom."

A sad gleam blossomed behind Tariq's eyes, his stance changing from the usual optimism that he always put on when Dmitri got like this, to a hurt defeat. But quickly, like a boomerang that always came back, he shifted back to optimism.

"Okay. Finish your business in here, and then, we'll go to the store," he assured, and that was all he said before walking out, closing the door behind him.

So, after a whole five— was it five?— minutes of trying to convince himself to actually move, Dmitri emptied his bladder, tugged on the fresh t-shirt that was lying on the ground, and rinsed his mouth with mouthwash. It wouldn't wake him up, and it definitely didn't serve as an alternative for actually brushing his teeth, but it was enough for now. It was all he could do.

"Great," Tariq chirped, reaching out to take a loose thread off his t-shirt. "You look spiffy, let's go. Can we leave your cat alone?"

"Yeah." Ignore Juno's crying. Ignore it. Ignore it.

Tariq smiled, fuck, did he smile, and he grabbed Dmitri's keys from the table, bounding downstairs. "Eat this," he instructed, taking a granola bar out of the bowl on the table and handing it to him. "At least a bite before you take your meds. Or after. Whenever you take them.

They had granola bars all over the house, courtesy of Eden. Once she had realised that he barely ate anything when he was in the midst of an episode, she stocked the house with granola bars in random places, just so that he would eat something.

"Meds first," he mumbled, the yellow pill glaring at him, haunting him. Fuck. "I can't take it. The meds. I can't do it, I'll throw up if I take them, I can't take—"

"Dmitri," Tariq interrupted, taking the bottle out of his hand, with what looked to be great difficulty. He didn't even realise he had been holding it that tight. "You can do it."

"I can't."

"Why?"

Don't panic over something this stupid. Don't do that.

Of course, he did just that.

Chest obliterating into a million pieces all at once, he wheezed deeply, his entire body shaking with adrenaline, was it adrenaline? He didn't know. All he knew was that he was panicking at a faster rate than he had expected, and everything hurt, and his body was shaking, and holy fuck, his body was shaking.

"Hey, hey, Dmitri," Tariq murmured, placing a careful hand on top of his and steadying it, or at least, trying to. "It's okay. It's okay. Breathe with me, try not to panic too much, okay?"

Maybe he wasn't shaking as much as he felt like he was, but it just hurt so much to even look at a pill, to think about raising his hand, bringing the pill to his mouth, drinking water, swallowing it, setting the glass of water down, picking up the pill bottle, closing the—

"Dmitri," Tariq said again, his voice so, so soft. "Hey. Dmitri. Put the pill in your mouth, swallow the water. That's it."

"I have t-to—"

"You have to put the pill in your mouth. And you have to swallow it. That's all you have to do, I'll do the rest for you."

So, he put the pill in his mouth, and swallowed it with water. He didn't do anything else, he just watched as Tariq closed the bottle for him, set the glass in the sink, leave the pill box back in its usual position.

Opening the granola bar and breaking it, Tariq handed him one half, taking the other half for himself. "There you go. Just half, okay?"

It's just half a granola bar. I can do half a granola bar.

He took a bite. After twenty four whole hours, he took a bite of the granola bar which tasted of chalk, or maybe that was just his tastebuds. But he ate it. The entire thing.

"Good job," Tariq said, making a move towards the door. "Now, let's go to the store."

Sliding his feet into a pair of shoes, Dmitri nodded, his legs already tired from how long he had been standing, even though it hadn't been that long at all.

Once they got into the car, Tariq adjusted the rear-view mirrors such that they would work for his height, and he just drove, long fingers tapping against the steering wheel, the same beat as the song that was playing on the radio.

And as much as Dmitri wanted to tell him that the song that was playing was so fucking bad, and that this was so far from both their tastes in music, he couldn't.

So, he just listened to the trashy music as Tariq drove.

"You want me to go in and buy the food?" Tariq asked once they had reached the store, finally turning off the radio. Thank you, Jesus. "You can tell me the brand, I can—"

"I need to buy it," Dmitri mumbled in response, because he just knew that he would hate himself if he didn't do it. It was his responsibility. He could do it. Maybe.

Tariq nodded, stepping out of the car, only walking once Dmitri was out of the car as well. "When did you get Juno?" he questioned, grabbing a cart from the stack.

"A year ago."

"She's cute," he remarked as an off-hand comment, tossing a box of cereal into the cart. "Black cats are the cutest."

And that was when Dmitri cracked his first smile of the day.

It was almost painful, and it disappeared as soon as it came, but it came. And that was enough for him to keep walking, to stop himself from sitting down on the fucking floor of the store because he was too tired to move.

"Juno's the cutest," he mumbled as he took the box of food that they fed Juno, placing it in the cart. What he didn't expect to see was the cart stacked with food, ranging from cereal to frozen chicken nuggets. How long have we even spent in here?

"No questions about the amount of food," Tariq instructed, wheeling the cart to the self-checkout. Is he paying? I should be paying.

Before he knew it, Tariq was done paying, and he had put all the food into a bag that he somehow had with him. "All done," he assured, shooting Dmitri a soft smile. "Now we can feed Juno."

Yeah, Dmitri wanted to say, but instead of saying anything, he just took a step forward, stumbling instantly, the entire world spinning. Oh my god. I hate this.

"Dmitri?" Tariq asked gently, holding him by the wrist and guiding him outside the store. "Are you dizzy?"

"I can't see," he muttered, blinking harshly. This always happened. He never ate during his depressive episodes, and then he got dizzy, and nauseous, and a bunch of other things.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, Tariq took out the other half of the granola bar, still wrapped in its wrapper, and handed it to him with a nudge. He didn't say anything, he just gestured for him to eat it.

"Nauseous because of no food, but nauseous because of food," he lamented, impassively finishing the rest of the bar, his body too tired to even fight Tariq for not eating his half.

"Let's go back to your car," Tariq suggested, hand still on Dmitri's, leading him in the direction of the car. "Okay?"

He was about to nod again, it was the only thing he was capable of doing, when his eyes fell on something.

A pure white kitten just curled up into a ball on the cement road, the morning sun falling directly on its fur, casting a shadow on it.

Fuck.

Apparently, he had been staring for too long, and soon, Tariq's eyes travelled in the same direction before landing on the kitten. "Do you want to go to the cat?"

"Kitten."

Tariq nodded. "Right. Sorry, the kitten," he affirmed, a smile dancing on his lips when he looked at the kitten again. "Do you want to go to the kitten?" he corrected, not moving until Dmitri gave him an answer.

He wanted to. Fuck, he wanted to. But he didn't have the energy to do anything, let alone move. Tariq was doing everything for him, and that included helping him move by guiding him everywhere.

Out of nowhere, tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes, heat searing them. And he didn't even know why.

"Hey. Dmitri?" Tariq urged, looking up at him. Then, he frowned. "We don't have to if—"

"I just want to sleep," he mumbled, willing the tears to go back. Not in front of Tariq. "I'm so tired."

Again, nodding, Tariq entered the car, waiting for Dmitri to do the same. And when he had buckled on his seatbelt, Tariq said, "You don't have to live today. Surviving is enough for today."

"Surviving is hard."

"I know," was all Tariq said before beginning to drive, the roads speeding past Dmitri, his mind barely processing the route, and suddenly, they were home again.

How the fuck was everything moving so quickly?

Kicking his shoes off, Dmitri mechanically made his way upstairs, Juno's food in hand. Of course, Juno was still whining, but thankfully, she calmed down once he placed a bowl of food in front of her. Brat.

Clearing his throat, Tariq picked up the dirty clothes from the ground, the ones that he was supposed to wash yesterday but didn't, because he thought he could snap out of his funk and do it the next day. "You can sleep if you want," he suggested softly.

He didn't have to be told twice, so he just got into bed, not bothering with the blankets as he closed his eyes, because keeping his eyes open was just way too hard.

Right as he was drifting off, finally giving his mind a break, Juno hopped onto the bed, splaying out on his chest and burying her head into his t-shirt.

She actually fucking hopped onto the bed.

That was huge, considering she was blind and she could barely make her way around the house without knocking something over.

But still, Dmitri could feel nothing.

Then, he was crying, choking on his own sobs because he just wanted to feel normal, because he was so unbelievably fucked up, because everything felt wrong.

There was a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it slowly, Dmitri didn't even know when he had sat up, murmuring assurances in a gentle voice, things that sounded like—

"It's okay. Let it out, it's okay. Everything will be okay. You're doing so well, you got out of bed today, you put on clothes, you took your meds, you went to the store, you ate something. Those are such big steps, and I'm so proud of you. It's okay if you can't get out of bed for the rest of the day. I promise you, it's okay. You'll be just fine, Dmitri."

Those words just sent him into a new round of sobs, the ache in his chest never leaving, not even for a second. Juno still had her head buried into his clothes, and Tariq's hand was still on his shoulder, and he just couldn't stop feeling alone, and he wished the hurt would stop, just for a minute.

"Tri, it'll be okay," Tariq murmured, squeezing his shoulder softly. "Let it out. I promise, I'll be here."

I'll be here.

—

+4090

AN: poor dmitri :(

most of u are so unbelievably kind pls 🙏🏽🙏🏽 thank u so much for ur support despite everything 🥺💓

thank u for reading! lmk how your day has been in the comments if u want🥺❤️