Two weeks later they sat in the small waiting room at the office of Charlie's new psychiatrist. As soon as they had sat down on the too-hard sofa, Charlie had wrapped one of Travis' arms around his shoulders and cuddled in. His grandparents, who had claimed the other sofa, pretended not to notice as they sorted through the magazines on the coffee table.

Charlie was more unsure about this whole psychiatrist thing than ever. His grandma had made it clear she didn't like the idea, and while Charlie was fairly sure he understood why her pessimism was still eating away at his confidence.

And what if there weren't any answers or solutions? What if he was just too sensitive or not trying hard enough? He understood his grandma's fear because he felt it too. She wasn't the only one who, deep down, worried that everything might actually be their own fault.

Charlie didn't even notice that someone else had entered the room until Travis pulled him to his feet.

The man was grey haired and a bit too neatly put together to look friendly. If that was a thing that even made any sense.

"Hi, I'm Dr Chapman," the man said, a smile fixed on his face as he looked between Travis and Charlie. "Which one of you is Charlie?"

Charlie just stared. Dr Chapman's teeth were very straight and very white, and just slightly too big.

"Uh, this is Charlie," Travis said after the awkward silence stretched on long enough that he realised Charlie wasn't going to respond.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Charlie." He held out his hand, then dropped it again when Charlie didn't accept it and turned to Travis. "And...?"

"Travis. I'm his..." Travis hesitated, looking to Charlie for direction.

Charlie took Travis' hand in his and squeezed it.

"Boyfriend," Travis finished. "He's a bit nervous about all of this."

"That's completely normal, but I'm sure we'll all be good friends soon."

As Dr Chapman went to introduce himself to Charlie's grandparents, Charlie leant in against Travis' side. Maybe this had been a bad idea. He didn't feel right about this. He was pretty sure that deep down he'd believed psychiatrists had a kind of magic that made them specially attuned to people. That they knew how to always do and say exactly the right thing. But this was just... a person. People and Charlie didn't generally mix well.

Dr Chapman led them through into his office, then spent a minute scavenging up another chair because there weren't enough for all of them. Charlie wanted to sit on the far end, but he ended up between his grandma and Travis. He still hadn't let go of Travis' hand.

"Now, I've read through that letter you sent me about Charlie's history," Dr Chapman said as he folded his hands on the desk in front of him. "It sounds like you've been through quite a bit, Charlie."

There was a letter? Charlie hadn't known about that. What had they told him? Dr Chapman was looking at him. Probably about his mum, and his dad... about all the things they knew about. Dr Chapman was still looking at him. Watching him. Charlie didn't like it.

Eventually, Dr Chapman turned his attention towards Charlie's grandparents. "Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about?"

"Well, not really," Charlie's grandma said. "I mean, it was the boys who wanted to do this, but now that we're here Charlie's being difficult again."

"It's just the proper thing to do, isn't it?" Charlie's grandpa added. "Get him checked out and all after everything that's happened."

"Yes, absolutely," Dr Chapman said.

"He's been fine, though," Charlie's grandma insisted. "I mean, honestly. As fine as he's ever been. His mother spoiled him so terribly that he was hardly controllable when he was younger. We should have fought for custody of him the second he was born."

"Well, we can't change the past, unfortunately," Dr Chapman said. "So, Charlie. How has school been?"

Charlie shrugged and looked away, but Dr Chapman kept calmly watching him, waiting for a proper response. He knew why, too, because he'd read about this. People find silence uncomfortable, so they tend to fill it. He was trying to make Charlie uncomfortable so that he would open up more, which seemed like the opposite of the proper way to go about that. Now Charlie was annoyed and determined to give him nothing.

"He won't talk to me about any of that either," Charlie's grandma cut in. "His teachers say he's doing well, though. He's a smart boy. He's just... moody and uncommunicative."

"Congratulations, you have a teenager," Dr Chapman said with a smile. "With everything he's been through, the fact that he's keeping up with school and you haven't had any major incidents is about the best you can hope for."

"Yes, well. That's what I thought, but the boys..." She gave a small shrug.

"Yes, the boys," Dr Chapman said. "That's the one piece of all this that surprises me. Charlie doesn't strike me as much of a social butterfly, but he managed to get a boyfriend in just a couple of months. What am I missing here? How did this happen?"

Travis glanced at Charlie to see if he would answer, but that obviously wasn't going to happen. He shrugged. "I don't know, man. We're neighbours. We both like music. We made friends pretty quick and then later on we started dating."

"Charlie spends more time with that boy than he does at home most days," Charlie's grandpa added.

"Do you see that as a problem?" Dr Chapman asked.

"No, no," Charlie's grandpa said. "I must admit I don't get the whole... well, any of it. But I can't deny Travis has a way with him. Handles him better than we can."

"But we're his guardians," Charlie's grandma objected. "It's all well and good him having — having friends, or a boyfriend, who makes him happy. That's great! But do you know why he prefers being over there? Do you know why? Because he gets whatever he wants. What does he learn from that? He needs to grow up."

"I've practically lived on my own for a few years now, and you know that because I live next door to you." Travis' hand was gripping Charlie's more firmly now. "For a teenager, I think I have a pretty good grasp on the whole being an adult thing. And you know what? It's not all that bullshit you think it is. It's not about putting manners above your own mental health or eating shit you hate. It's about figuring out how you get through the days and then doing that as well as you can. And you know what? I'm fucking fantastic at it."

"Well," Charlie's grandma said. "If he starts swearing, I suppose we'll know who he learned that from, too."

"Charlie, do you have anything to say about all of this?" Dr Chapman asked.

Charlie did not respond. Charlie wanted to bite someone.

Charlie didn't want to be here anymore. He couldn't remember why he'd thought this was a good idea. He squeezed Travis' hand and refused to listen any more.

He wanted to go home. Not to his grandparents' house. Not even to Travis'. To a distant home that didn't exist anymore. That maybe never had. An abstract idea of home that existed only as a concept of safety and escape and complete understanding.

Travis' voice cut through the buzzing in his head. "Can we go?"

"What?" Charlie's grandma asked. "We've only been here ten minutes."

"I think he's had enough."

"How about we keep going and see how things go?" Dr Chapman suggested.

"I can see how things are going, and he's not doing so good," Travis objected.

"Sometimes in order to expand your comfort zone it can be helpful to just sit with your discomfort," Dr Chapman suggested.

"I know, but that only works if it ends in a way where it wasn't so bad after all. And we probably blew past that possibility out in the waiting room."

"How about we just—"

"Nope," Travis said as he pulled Charlie to his feet with him.

"Travis," Charlie's grandma started, but Travis interrupted her as well.

"We'll meet you in the parking lot."

Travis' hand was sweaty, or maybe Charlie's was. It was definitely uncomfortably warm and damp where their palms pressed together, between their fingers. When Travis dropped his hand out in the hallway and turned them to face one another, Charlie wiped the moisture off on his jeans.

"Is this what you want?" Travis asked. "I'm just trying to do this right this time and there's a good chance I have no idea what I'm doing and this is just going to fuck things up worse."

Charlie took hold of Travis' hand again and then made a face because it was still sweaty. He took hold of Travis' wrist instead, wiped Travis' hand off on his shirt, then took hold of his hand.

Travis let out a long sigh. "Okay then, let's go I guess."

Charlie could tell Travis wasn't really okay just then, and probably a good boyfriend would do something about that. But also the reason he was upset was because Charlie was upset, so. It was complicated.

The receptionist called out to ask if everything was okay as they passed, but Travis just waved her away. It was an amazing relief to have someone else take control and just leave.

"I didn't like him," Charlie confided as they waited for the elevator. His voice sounded weird to his own ears.

"Yeah, he was a bit..." Travis made a face. "I don't know. He just did a shit job of keeping that whole thing safe and comfortable for you."

Charlie shrugged. He didn't know why he'd expected anything different. He just wanted someone to understand him better than he understood himself. He was so tired. He dropped his head as they stepped into the elevator and hoped Travis wouldn't notice the moisture filling his eyes.

#

Everything was fucked and Travis had no idea what to do, but what else was new? This was his life now. Taking Charlie to see a professional had sounded like a great solution to that problem, but now... this.

Maybe he should have given the psychiatrist more of a chance. Maybe he should have pulled Charlie out of there before things had gotten so bad. Maybe that shouldn't have been his decision to make at all.

"Are you okay?" Travis asked Charlie as they stepped out of the elevator and into the underground parking lot.

Charlie shrugged, his head hanging lower and his arms wrapped around his midsection. He quite obviously was not okay.

"I'm sorry." Travis said as he led the way back to Charlie's grandparents' car. "I'm pretty sure I fucked this up somehow. I just don't know which part or how to fix it."

Charlie didn't respond. He probably wasn't really up for a conversation just then, and even less so if it was just going to be a pity party Travis was throwing for himself.

"Travis!" a familiar voice called out as they reached the car, and Travis turned to see Charlie's grandparents marching towards them. His grandma looked particularly irate. "What was that?"

"I was just trying to look out for what he actually needs," Travis shot back. "Someone has to."

"I thought you were the one who decided this whole thing was what he needed, son," Charlie's grandpa pointed out, though he sounded more tired than angry.

"We trusted you, paid for him to see a psychiatrist, and then you pulled him out not ten minutes into the session." Charlie's grandma held her arms out from her body in exasperation. "Why should you get to take charge of my grandson's life like this?"

"Why should you!?"

"Because whether you like it or not we are his guardians. You humiliated us in there."

"I don't care! That doesn't matter. Charlie is what matters."

Charlie's grandpa stepped forward and put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "If you believe that, son — and I think you do — then I think you ought to calm yourself and stop this shouting."

And oh shit. Charlie wasn't standing beside him anymore. He was sitting on the ground, head hung so low it was between his knees, with his hands pressed firmly over his ears.

All the rage left Travis' body, and now he just felt numb.

He knelt down in front of Charlie, arms reaching out, and then coughed out a breath and toppled backwards as something struck him firmly in the chest. It was only as he sat back up that he realised Charlie had kicked him.

"Charlie!" Charlie's grandma scolded, but Charlie didn't respond. He was staring at Travis, his expression blank and unreadable.

Charlie's grandpa hauled Travis to his feet. "You all right there, son?"

Travis rubbed at his chest. His ribs ached a little, but that was the least of his concerns. Everything was falling apart and he didn't know where he'd gone wrong or how to make things right again. "Yeah."

"Good." Charlie's grandpa opened the back door of the car. "Charlie, you get in the car now."

Travis hadn't been sure Charlie had really been taking in anything that was being said, but he obeyed his grandpa's instructions immediately.

After shutting the car door, Charlie's grandpa placed a hand on Travis' shoulder and looked him firmly in the eye. "Are you really okay?"

Travis nodded and looked away. Suddenly his throat felt too tight. He wasn't used to this level of sincere concern and he wasn't sure he was comfortable with it.

"This is all getting a bit out of hand, hm?"

Travis nodded again. He'd messed up. Maybe he wasn't the only one who had, but that didn't matter.

"How about you take the bus home. Give everything a chance to settle."

"Yeah, okay," Travis managed.

"Good. Do you need bus money?"

"Nah, I'm fine." Travis took a step back so that Charlie's grandpa's hand fell away from his shoulder. "Just... I'm sorry. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, I guess."

"It's okay not to know and to make mistakes. Loving someone just means we keep trying."

"Yeah, I know." Travis took another half step back. "You better get going. He'll probably feel a lot better after he has a rest and something to eat."

Travis turned and walked away. He didn't like being looked at like that, with such genuine concern. Especially when he felt like he should be getting shouted at instead.