A/N: This was my way of venting after a pretty bad day a while back. Sorry for all the angst.
The silence is deafening. He clutches his phone much too tightly in his hand, knuckles turning white. He lifts his phone up to read the messages on their group chat. His most recent text disappears as texts flood in from Toby and Claire, asking if he's okay, supporting him, being there for him.
He wishes he were okay. Everything would be so much easier if everything could just go back to normal, when the worst thing he had to worry about was the algebra test and Spanish presentation the following week. He wants to stop the endless stream of incoming messages from his two best friends, offering him a shoulder to cry on. He wants to tell them he's okay, even if only to quell their need to shower him in their undying love and support.
He knows he isn't alone. All he needs to do is send a text. Toby will come running across the street, and Claire will appear in his room through a shadow portal in two seconds flat. What he wouldn't give to have their arms wrapped around him in the biggest hug.
He draws his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them, trying to make himself as small as he possibly can. His eyes burn with the sensation of oncoming tears, but he blinks them back, too stubborn to cry. He doesn't even know why he has the urge to let the tears fall. He drops his phone onto the mattress beside him and rubs at his eyes, revelling in the slight discomfort he gets from the sensation.
His phone vibrates. He ignores it. Just another text. It vibrates again, and again, and again. Already close to the limit of his irritation, he grabs the phone, ready and almost willing to hurl it at the door to give him some peace and quiet, and checks the caller ID. It's Toby.
His thumb hovers over the answer button. If he picks up, he will hear exactly what he doesn't want to hear, what he has already heard so many times.
He chastises himself for believing that. The only person who knows how to bring him out of this is Toby. Shaking his head at how ridiculous his train of thought is, that Toby would actually tell him the things he knows will get on his nerves, he hits answer, only for the call to end, and a missed call notification to appear above all the messages Claire has left him.
He sighs and hangs his head. A part of him had wanted to hear his best friend's reassuring blind optimism. Maybe he doesn't really need to talk to Toby. He can sort out his thoughts alone.
It's not like he's a stranger to doing things alone anyway.
But he made them a promise. He was the one who insisted on working together. He broke that promise more than once. He's certainly not going to do it again.
His phone buzzes again, lighting up with Claire's portrait on the screen. He almost wants to ignore the call, but he's determined to keep his promise this time. Ignoring the instincts to simply let the phone ring, he picks up the call.