Dinner Confessions

Mae sits down to dinner with her family after the week from hell, where she finally decides to open up about what happened to her while she was away at school.

Tacos.

Mae flinched inwardly at that. The smell reminded her of a beer-clouded night spent in the woods outside of town and her subsequent upchucking on one hapless ex-boyfriend.

Guy had a talent for getting puked on, she thought idly. If there's a job for that kind of thing, he'd be really good at it...

Still, she revelled in the taste of what was probably her favorite food. After everything that had happened in the past few days, something simple like the cheap, greasy deliciousness of fast-food meat and spices was enough to make her happy. At least for the moment.

Across the kitchen table, her mother sat quietly chewing her food. Every couple of minutes, she'd look over in Mae's direction, then glance over to Mae's father, and back to her plate again. Once or twice she even spoke, usually something innocuous about the recent snowfall or the coming holidays, before silently returning to her awkward bouts of staring. Mae pretended not to notice that it was weirdly quiet for dinnertime in the Borowski's kitchen.

It had been a normal day. Relatively speaking. Mae had tried to make sure of that; jamming with her friends, eating mediocre pizza, talking about literally anything but the week in which they had all nearly died and accidentally murdered several dozen people. And for their part, her friends were willing to play along, at least for now. She still hadn't figured out exactly how she felt about that, either.

But Mae knew what was coming. No rest for the weary, or something like that. Mae thought she'd heard that line in one of her Grandad's old books, but she only now felt that she really understood what it meant.

Mae had just about had enough of the unsettling quietude when a rumbling belch from her father made her jump. He patted his stomach in satisfaction, pushing his chair back from the table.

"Alright, I admit it." His lips drooped in an exaggerated pout "I'm a darn fine cook, but Taco Buck's got me beat."

"Mmmfgh" Mae grunted in agreement as she polished off the last taco on her plate.

"Seems like the resident expert approves, too," he chuckled softly. "What do you think, Hon?" He turned to face his wife. "Buck every night? Or maybe just a few times a week?"

"Mm? She blinked suddenly. "I'm sorry dear, what was that?"

"That doesn't sound like a no to me."

Mae burped in agreement, punching the air. "Taco Buuuuu*UUUUURP*uuuuck!"

Her mother seemed to snap out of her odd stupor, offering a lopsided grin in Mae's direction.

"That's my daughter. And sorry, no. They are very good, dear, but I hardly think we need to stunt Mae's growth any further."

"Oof. Geez, mom." Mae rolled her eyes. "I'm not short. I'm fun-size."

"Well, I'm done growing. Vertically, at least." Stan rose from his seat, gathering the now empty plates from the kitchen's tiny dining table. "So there's no point trying to taco me out of it."

"It's almost like he thinks he funny." Candy Borowski rolled her eyes.

"Eh. Let him dream."

Her father merely huffed in mock offense, dropping the dishes in the sink with a soft clatter.

"Bah. Either way, that was a good suggestion, Mae. Maybe it's a good thing Pastabilities closed down, eh?"

"Heh...yeah, maybe."

Stan groaned as he returned to his seat, and as he did, the cloud of awkward, heavy quiet fell around the kitchen once again. A chorus of tiny, insignificant sounds – the ticking of the wall clock, the sound of wood creaking as her mother shifted in her seat, the rumble of traffic passing by outside all seemed magnified as each of them waited for someone to speak.

"Mae."

"Mom."

Her mother stared at her, smiling uncertainly.

"Are you ready?"

The question cut into her thoughts like a spike of ice. She'd been expecting it. She'd even promised to answer it this time, but that didn't make this moment any less unpleasant. The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity before her mother gently spoke again.

"Mae, I know you don't want to talk about it. But I think your father and I deserve to know what happened at school. And not because we're upset that you left, honey. That decision is yours to make, and we will respect it."

Her father nodded, his expression serious. A part of Mae wanted desperately to ask why it mattered, if it was really up to her, but she bit her tongue.

"We just want to help you in any way we can, and the only way we can do that is if we know what happened. And If you feel like you need to talk to Dr. Hank first, that's fine. I can-"

"No..." Mae interrupted softly. "It's fine. I'll tell you, just, um...gimme a minute."

Mae's eyes glazed over, falling to the polished wood of the table beneath her. She was determined not to meet the expectant gaze she could feel from her parents. They'd waited at least, until she was done eating. She wasn't sure now, with her stomach churning as it was, whether that was actually a good thing. She wondered briefly if vomiting would excuse her from this, but she shook the thought away as quickly as it had come.

"You know we're only asking because we care, sweetie..."

"I know, mom."

Candy reached across the table, giving Mae's arm an affectionate squeeze.

"It must have been a difficult decision for you to make. It's okay if you can't tell us everything right this instant. We know you must have had a good reason for wanting to come home."

Mae said nothing.

It was time. She could do this.

"Honey, what's the matter? Was it...did someone...hurt you?"

"No, mom," Mae almost laughed at the implication. "Nothing like that."

"I'm sorry if it seems like we don't understand. You never called, honey. We had no way of knowing what was going on while you were away..."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, too I guess. Had a lot on my mind."

"Your father and I are here for you. You can tell us, no matter what happened. Help us to underst-"

"I GET IT!"

Mae felt a stab of guilt as she heard her mother flinch at the sudden outburst. She took a long, steadying breath before she spoke again.

"I...just...I mean, I don't really know where to..."

She leaned her elbows on the table, planting one fist against her forehead.

"Look, I've kinda made a point of not thinking about it for like...well I guess it's only been a couple weeks, but it sure feels like forever."

She had done this before. Doing it again would be easy, right?

"I'm sorry I yelled. Ugh..." Her head fell heavily to the table, making the silverware jump with a soft clatter. Both hands leapt up in a gesture of surrender, her face still buried in table wood.

"God knows I'm bad at this crap. Or explaining things in general. Fair warning, once I get started, I'm probably just gonna ramble, so y'know...brace yourself? Or something. I just gotta figure out where the hell to start."

Her mother, bless her, seemed to accept this easily, and remained silent. Her father tensed slightly, his jaw working anxiously against his back teeth, but he nodded, and in a gentle voice said, "Take as long as you need, kitten."

Good old Dad. He was just as bad at dealing with heavy emotional crap as she was. Probably where she got it, she thought.

Mae's head snapped upward, her cheeks puffing outward as she drew in a sharp breath.

"Okay, so... I told you before that I felt like college wasn't really where I should be, and that was kind sorta more or less true. But as you probably guessed, it was more than that. School actually ended up being a pretty terrible experience for me, haha. Though, I mean, it can't have been all that bad, right? Only took me like two friggin years to work out that it wasn't working out."

She paused, losing her train of thought. Neither of her parents moved from their seats. Her mouth hung open as she searched for the right words. When she had told Bea about this, it was almost easy. It was almost a relief. This, she thought...this felt like she was confessing to a crime. And not the fun kind.

"Okay, so..." She coughed, forcing the words out. "I'm gonna backtrack a little."

"Do you remember back in middle school? When I had...to go to therapy? I mean, wow, stupid question, haha. Great job, Mae."

Her mother reached for her arm again, but Mae leaned away, stopping the motion short.

"How...how much do you remember about...about what I told you when...when I, um..."

Immediately, something shifted in her parents' expressions that seemed to suck the air from around the table. There it was, Mae thought. Like being gut-punched by a ghost. No one had moved, but she could feel the change in atmosphere as clearly as if the room had been doused in cold water. She dared to flick her gaze up to her mother's face. Candy started slightly, clearing her throat.

"You're referring to your incident?"

"Yeap. That. That whole effed-up shindig."

"What about it, Mae?" Candy fixed Mae with a calm, patient look. Her tone was kept carefully even.

"I mean, do you remember what I talked about when I was...dealing with all of that garbage?"

Her parents exchanged a confused glance.

"Well, dear..." Candy folded her hands in her lap, putting on her best concerned mom face. "I try not to think about what was said between us much. We didn't talk for so long after that I..."

Her eyes widened in alarm as Mae visibly flinched.

"N-Not that I'm blaming you! I mean I guess I'm not entirely sure what you're referring to. I remember that you were very scared and upset, and you...well you would say some very sad things, Mae."

A tiny, bitter smile crept across Mae's lips.

"Okay yeah, that's probably right. I don't mean when we were fighting, though. More like right after the softball game. I guess, if I'm being honest, I don't really remember a whole lot of what I said, but, I mean, specifically...did I ever mention something about...seeing shapes? Something like that?"

There was a thoughtful pause in which her parents exchanged unreadable looks. Her father shifted in his chair, leaning forward onto the table.

"I remember that that particular word came up a lot at first," He spoke softly, "though you were never really able to elaborate on it. Shapes, I mean. We weren't really sure what that meant at the time. Still aren't. After you started seeing Dr. Hank, it seemed like you were doing better, and you never talked about it again after that."

"What does this have to do with school, honey?" Her mother was trying to keep her face neutral, but Mae knew enough to see the worry in that expression.

"I'm getting to that."

Mae took a deep breath. She looked away from her parents toward the kitchen wall, her eyes following the lazy rythm of the pendulum of that tacky old cat clock her mother loved so much.

"Middle school wasn't...the last time something like that happened to me."

Silence. The tick-tock of the cat clock punched the air like gunshots. Somewhere upstairs, the family bird rattled restlessly about in its cage.

"...What do you mean, sweetie?"

"This is...okay look, I barely know what I'm talking about when I say this stuff, so you'll have to bear with me on this. I'm probably gonna use the wrong words and mess it up and make it seem like it's this whole big thing when it's really stupid and shouldn't affect me as much as it does. I don't really expect you guys to understand. God knows I don't."

"That's okay honey, we-"

"But," Mae's voice rose, cutting her mother short. "This is really important, and I feel bad even asking, but I need to. Can you please promise me something?"

"Of course, Mae, anything. What do you need us to do?"

She moved her gaze slowly away from the wall, afraid of the look she'd see pointed back at her. Her parents' expressions were utterly blank.

"Please promise me that you won't..." Her voice quivered slightly. "...Please don't be scared, okay?"

She was doing okay. She wasn't gonna let herself get emotional here, not when her folks had been waiting so long and so patiently to hear this from her. They deserved to know the truth without having to coddle her through this.

Her mother only looked confused. "Sweetie, what happened? We promise, no matter what it is, we'll try to understand and help you through this, alright?"

Mae nodded, though it was little more than a token gesture.

"It's...I can never really describe it in a way that makes a whole lot of sense? The shapes, I mean."

She slouched deep down into her chair so that only her head was visible above the table, staring at the ceiling.

"Basically, during my incident, I freaked out because I was seeing these crazy shapes. Like, instead of people and things and trees and stuff, everything was just jittery piles of color. And sound, too. Everything just sounded wrong, like...like I was underwater, or in a really big, empty room and it just echoed forever. It was terrifying. Probably one of the most terrifying things I've ever experienced."

Neither of her parents spoke, but it hardly mattered. She was sure she was spouting utter nonsense. She swallowed, frowning at the uncomfortable dryness inside her mouth.

"When I was at college...I started to see the shapes again. Not at first. It was fine for the first couple months or so after we all hugged and said our goodbyes. I was even having fun, getting along with my roomate, got drunk at a couple parties. Basically checking all the boxes for a successful freshman year, woo hoo. And then, just like back in middle school...suddenly it wasn't fine."

Her parents watched her, waiting for the pause to stretch on for a few moments before either of them spoke. It was her mother who went first, and her words came slow and careful, almost at a whisper.

"Honey...did you...was anyone..." She squirmed in her seat, apparently deciding to change her approach. "When you say "shapes..." Can you be a little more specific, honey? Like, what kind of shapes? what did they look like?"

"It's okay if you can't find the right words, kitten. Just try your best."

Mae thought for a moment in silence. She rubbed her fingers against her eyelids, trying to picture it in her mind's eye in some way that would make even a little bit of sense.

"Imagine...ugh...it's not like circles and squares and the crap you learn in preschool. It's like all of the pieces of things that make them up are suddenly separate. Like...Like I can't see the whole thing anymore because of all the pieces? Everything I saw, even familiar stuff would just look like a bunch of dead nonsense shapes to me. Like it was all some dumb cartoon some kid made in a notebook, and none of it meant anything because it was all suddenly just empty lines and colors and that meant that none of it was real anymore..."

She finally gave up, slinking lower in her chair.

"I dunno...I lost it. When it happens, I'ts really kinda disorienting and it's hard to focus on anything at all..."

"Mae, you-"

She shook her head violently.

"But maybe that's not important. I guess the point is that it was really scary and awful, and I never wanted to feel that way again."

It hurt, to cut her mother off like that, but she couldn't bear the worry she'd heard in that voice. She needed to get this out while she still had the courage.

"Anyway, I was alone when it happened. The first time while I was at college, I mean. I was walking back to my dorm after class when I walked by the statue of the founder in the middle of the campus. I stopped to look at it and...it just kinda fell apart. In my head. I knew. Right away, I remembered what it felt like and I ran. I was so scared that I don't even remember climbing the stairs to my room. I just kinda threw myself into bed and tried to sleep. I thought maybe I was just tired. Maybe it would stop if I just got some sleep or something."

Mae's arms flew up in a wild shrug.

"It didn't, of course. I got woken up by my roomate yelling about me missing class, and I looked at her, and she was just these...shapes. I don't remember what I said, but she got really freaked out and left and I just kinda laid in bed for hours until it finally stopped. Sometimes, I would feel normal and everything would be fine, and I apologized to my roomie and she said it was okay, but then it would just keep happening. More and more often, whenever I was alone in a new place, or sometimes out of nowhere, everything would just turn into shapes and I'd panic and run back to my room. Eventually, I guess my roomie just kinda got fed up with it and moved out into another dorm. And being alone just ended up making it worse. I could barely eat, I couldn't talk to anyone or even leave my bed on most days. I'd have to try to drug myself to sleep with cough syrup just to get some peace. I was scared, so scared, all the time that if I went outside I'd see all the shapes, and then I remembered what happened to Andy Cullen..."

Her breath hitched nastily on that name.

Nope. Not gonna cry. She was doing good. She hadn't felt anything like this when she had talked to Bea. Though, in retrospect, she had been emotionally exhausted from almost dying at the time. That sort of thing takes a lot out of you, almost dying.

"I didn't hurt anybody this time, okay?"

Mae shot up suddenly in her seat, both hands planted firmly on the table. Her heart now raced in her chest, pounding so hard she could feel it in her temples.

"I swear I didn't! I was so terrified that that would happen again that I would just stay in my room all day, which is probably a lot of why my grades went to shit. I was so scared that some poor sucker would be the next Andy and that this time I might actually kill them or something because every time I went outside it felt like that day at the softball game all over again. Sometimes I couldn't tell where I was or who was who, and it made me so scared and sad and angry. It felt like the shapes were crushing me all the time. I wanted to fight back, to do something to make them go away, but I couldn't because I knew I might hurt someone again."

Mae was struggling to control her breathing as her parents watched in silence. She swallowed hard, wincing at the pain it caused in her throat.

"And I had no idea why it was happening! I thought I was okay. I thought I was finally getting better and that I'd never have to deal with this stuff again, but it never stopped. I didn't know what to do until I finally just couldn't take it anymore."

Mae slumped forward in her chair, staring miserably at the floor. Her heart still pounded away in her ears, but its pace was slowing, and her breathing fell back under control. The air felt thick and heavy around her, and for what felt like hours no sound broke the tension.

"It just seemed like the only option. I couldn't deal with feeling like that even one more day in that place. So then...I just...came home. "

"Kitten..." Her father 's voice was uncharacteristically soft. "Oh Mae, that sounds horrible.

"Sweetie, if you were so upset, why didn't you call sooner? You know your father and I would have come as soon as we could if we'd had any idea-"

"I-I couldn't. Part of me wanted to, but I didn't think I'd ever be able to explain it in a way that you'd understand, and I thought you'd think it was some silly thing and that I was just being stupid or lazy..."

"Mae, no. We know you've had problems in the past. We wouldn't just dismiss it like that. We'd have happily picked you up to see Dr. Hank any time-"

"No, thats just it!" Mae nearly shouted. She bit her lip, taking a steadying breath. "I couldn't call because I knew it wouldn't fix anything. You'd just have me meet with Dr. Hank and drop me right back off and I'd be alone again! It would just keep happening until we'd be right back where we were in middle school, where eventually somebody would just get fed up with my bullshit and we'd end up not talking for who knows how long. I...I know you keep saying that you'll try to understand, that you'll try to help me but...you didn't understand then, so I thought, why would you now?"

"Honey...that's not fair. I know we struggled in the past, but we would never want you to suffer through something like this alone."

"But I was alone! I didn't have you guys or my friends or anybody out there to be with me!"

"But honey, if we had only known, I'm sure we could have done something. We can't even try to help you if you don't le-"

"STOP!" Her parents jumped as Mae slammed her fists on the table, sending most of the silverware clattering to the floor

"Don't you get it?! I was really effing pissed at you guys, okay?"

She hadn't expected to say that. But when she thought about it, she couldn't deny the truth of what she was feeling. Her parents' stunned gaze only fueled the hot, angry panic she felt erupting in her chest.

So much for not getting emotional, Mae.

"The first Borowski to go to college. No pressure kid, just know that literally all of our hopes and dreams are resting on you!" Mae snarled. "Nevermind the fact that a few years ago you almost killed a kid for no reason because of your defective brain! Hope you've got a handle on that by now!"

"Honey, that's not at all what-"

"Do you know, like, anything at all about Dr. Hank?" Mae was standing now, yelling across the table at her dumbstruck parents. "He's about as qualified to be a shrink as I am! You know what he told me? Repress it. Ignore it. Don't think about your problems or how angry or afraid you get sometimes because you shouldn't feel that way and you're wrong for doing it! Real great advice, doc!"

"Mae-"

"And the worst part...the absolute worst part was right after it happened. When you saw Andy and what I did to him. When you looked at me right after that..."

She stopped. Without warning, the flare of anger she had felt seconds ago sputtered away, leaving her numb.

"I'll never forget it. When you looked at me that day, and sometimes after that...I could tell you were afraid."

Silence. Mae's eyes were locked on her boots, wide and unblinking.

"You were afraid of me. Afraid that I'd freak out and attack somebody again, maybe even one of you without warning and this time, someone would actually end up dead."

"Mae, no, that's not-"

"Don't deny it. Don't you dare. I know you guys love me and that you really want to help, but you can't imagine how much that hurt. How much it still hurts."

Mae squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't risk seeing her parents' faces. She knew it was selfish, cowardly, but she didn't care. If she could see the hurt written in their features, she would probably try to take it back, and she needed this to be heard.

"It's not that I don't appreciate you sending me to college and going through all that trouble to help after the whole Andy thing. I do. But...I couldn't help it. I never knew how to talk about it and I never even wanted to think about it because I couldn't stand you ever looking at me like that again. And when you dropped me off at college and expected me to be totally okay on my own even after all of that and this started happening again, I got so angry because I felt like you wouldn't or couldn't understand, and you'd just see me as some kinda time bomb freak who might bash your brains out if you looked at me wrong."

She had to pause for breath after that. Breathing had suddenly gotten a lot harder again, and she could feel a hot, familiar sting in the corners of her eyes. She sputtered softly to herself as her parents simply watched in open-mouthed shock.

"I-I'm sorry, okay." Slowly, Mae sank back into her seat, leaning on her knees. "I knew that by dropping out, I'd be letting you guys down. I know you both worked so hard all my life just s-so I could have that opportunity, especially when you never did and when so many people like you and Bea can't ever have that chance. I'm s-so, so sorry, because I know I disappointed you and I know that it's not fair and you never asked for your daughter to be such a s-s-screw up with a broken brain and...and..."

Mae's head whipped upward, her eyes glaring despondently at each of her parents.

"I never wanted to hurt Andy." She whispered. "But nobody would believe me! People still call me 'killer' around here, did you know that? Can you even imagine how horrible that feels?! I don't know why I did it. That's what scared me so much. It still scares me. And because of that, you had to go through all that trouble to cover it up, and to get me therapy, but I guess that was a waste of money too because that obviously didn't f-fucking work."

Mae's hands gripped the sides of her head, yanking on her ears as she trailed off, her lungs finally feeling the exhaustion from her outburst and the sheer effort of trying to keep her composure. Hey eyes fell once again to the floor, her shoulders jerking between sobs as she spoke.

"...I'm sorry...I'm r-really really s-sorry, okay? I r-really f-fucked up, I know that. I just didn't know what to do anymore, so I did the only thing I could...I'm s-sorry..."

Then, without warning, her mother was beside her. Mae could feel the warm, lilac-heavy scent of her mother's perfume as she was wrapped in a tight, yet gentle embrace.

"Sweetie." Candy's voice was soft but firm. "Sweetie, no. Despite what you might think, we know you'd never hurt us. We could never think that. I'm so, so sorry that we ever made you feel that way."

Mae wanted to angrily push her mother away, but she was too exhausted to muster anything more than an awkward wiggle. Besides, the warmth felt nice. It felt safe. She was crying openly now, and the feeling of her mother's arms gave her something to lean into.

"Oh, honey, we were scared, yes, but never that you'd hurt us. We were afraid because you were hurting. We could see that clear as day, but we had no idea how to help you. I was scared because I knew that if I couldn't help you, you'd be left all alone with whatever was happening. We thought...I thought you were doing okay, honey...otherwise I never would have abandoned you like that."

There was the scratch of a chair on wood and several slow, heavy footsteps as her father moved closer.

"Mae, this is not your fault. Do you remember what you said when we picked you up from school after the softball game? You were in hysterics. You kept saying that you were sorry over and over and over. It was all you would say for hours before you cried yourself to sleep that night."

Mae felt his hand on her back. He moved it in slow, reassuring circles.

"We may not have understood what was...is...happening to you, but you're a kind person, Mae. You wouldn't have...that wouldn't have happened if you weren't scared out of your wits by something. It wasn't you who decided to do what you did. You reacted out of fear because you didn't understand any more than we did what was happening."

"How can you possibly know that?" Mae spat between tears, not bothering to hide the acid in her tone. "You k-keep asking me to try and explain, so how could you understand what's going on in my head?"

"I'm not a Psychiatrist or an expert on any of this, kitten, but it was obvious at the time that something scared you. Bad. You were so distraught by what had happened that you didn't want to talk to anyone for days. That's a big part of why your mother and I got scared, too. We could see that you were terrified of doing something like that again, but we couldn't understand what it was that made it happen. I had thought Dr. Hank would be able to help, but...well I guess we were wrong. And we are so sorry for that, Mae. If we had known at all that he wasn't giving you the help you needed, we would have found someone else. Some way else. You have to believe that."

Mae was silent for a long time. She wasn't sure how long as she sat there between her parents; her father's hand gently pressing on her back and her mother's breath warm on her cheek. Her shoulders shuddered at her sides as she could feel fat, wet tears falling from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry...I know...I know you would have. You would have at least tried. And I guess I'm sorry for not saying anything, either. But that was part of the problem, too. You'd already done so much, even if it didn't work, and I didn't want to cause any more trouble. Part of me just kinda hoped it would go away as I got older. Or at least that I'd be able to handle it better. Maybe I was just scared that it couldn't...that I couldn't be helped." Mae breathed a weak, pathetic little laugh.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh..." Her mother's arms tightened slightly around her. "You're okay, sweetie. I promise you we're not afraid of you. And if Dr. Hank isn't working, we'll just find someone-"

Mae twitched, making a small, exasperated noise.

"No. You guys have spent enough money trying to fix me. You need to use it on stuff like the house..." she sniffed pathetically, trying not to dribble all over her mother's blouse. "I'm actually doing better now after getting back, anyway."

There was a brief pause in which her father quirked one eyebrow skeptically down at her.

"Kitten, you'll have to forgive us if we find that a little hard to believe."

Her father's matter-of-fact tone actually conjured something like a genuine laugh out of Mae. She finally opened her eyes only to find her vision horribly blurred by tears.

"Okay yeah. I guess that does sound pretty out there in context." She shrugged herself out of her mother's hug, dragging one sleeve across her face to clear her vision. "No, I just meant that I don't want you to go blowing more money on some hack therapist, especially with you worried about the house and all."

"Honey, I already told you, that's not for you to worry about." Her mother said, placing one hand firmly on Mae's shoulder. Her father followed suit.

"We'll make it work. We always do. And either way, your health and happiness will always be far more important to us that any old house." He offered his characteristic dad smirk. It was the same one he always wore after one of his endless horrible jokes. Mae couldn't help but appreciate it now.

"We'll see, I guess. I dunno, I just...Yeah." She trailed off, her gaze falling to her lap. The tears had stopped, but she still felt her heart racing in her chest again, and her head still tingled with adrenaline.

"Anyway...that's why I didn't call. Until, y'know, I did. It just got to the point where I would rather have come back home as a disappointment than stay there as a basket case until...until something happened again."

"Mae." The sharpness in her mother's tone made her jump. With one gentle hand, Candy cupped her cheek and turned her head so that their eyes met. "Don't say that. You are not, and could never be a disappointment to us. If anything, I'm proud of you."

Mae honestly didn't know how to respond to that. It simply didn't compute. No matter how she added up the events of the evening thus far, much less the events of her entire life, she just couldn't imagine what could have illicited that particular statement from one of her parents right now.

"How's that then?" She stated flatly.

"Sweetie, let's face it. This family, you and I in particular, is catastrophically bad at talking about our feelings in a way that doesn't end in one of us storming out of the room. We're pretty terrible at communicating in general."

"I'm with you so far. Ironically."

"But I need you to understand this right now, that I am proud of you."

"Ditto," her father rumbled from behind her.

"Yeah, see that's the bit where you lost me."

Her mother smiled in a patient, knowing way.

"I am proud of you because you're strong, Mae. Because you're kind. Because even though you were suffering through all of this, the only things you thought of through the whole mess were the feelings and well being of other people. And because you tried your best to deal with what was hurting you, even if it didn't work out."

"...Huh. Okay. See, that's funny. Because I'm pretty sure I was doing, like, the exact opposite of that? Pretty much since I was born."

"Well, I am a little upset that you didn't speak up sooner instead of keeping everything to yourself, but...but I think I can understand why you did. Even if I don't agree with it. I'm so happy you decided to come back home rather than remain somewhere that was causing you so much pain. Your father and I would never want you to suffer on our behalf. And I admit that we could have...should have done more as your parents to make sure that you didn't have to face your problems alone. I'm sorry, Honey. And I am so, so glad that you finally told us what happened."

Mae shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was suddenly feeling a bit smothered.

"Well, honestly, I mean I don't really think I said anything new? Like, I guess you know why I left school, but other than that, my situation hasn't really changed much."

"That's not true." Her father frowned, shaking his head. "You've at least told us that Dr. Hank isn't helping you, and now that we've heard a little more about what your symptoms are like, we can move forward in looking for treatment. Or at least away from Dr. Hank."

"Well, actually...about that." Mae shrank slightly into her seat. "I think I might have a name? For my...issue. Maybe."

Her parents both regarded her in silent expectation. They each slowly withdrew their hands, perhaps sensing her apprehension.

"I talked with Bea a little about this a while ago before you guys. Please don't be mad, okay? There was a lot of wierd stuff going on, and she was really nice and cool about it and it just kinda came out because of what I was going through with her at the time. But because I talked to her and she looked into it, I think that I almost kinda know what it might be? Or even that its a thing that like, people other than me actually go through? I forget what she called it...some kinda dismemberment...no, dystopian? She called it a diss-something disorder, I dont remember."

"Bea knows about this?"

"Y-yeah. I kinda spilled my guts. Pretty much everything I just told you."

Her mother inhaled deeply, and smiled.

"Honey, that's wonderful! I was so worried you wouldn't be able to share with anyone else. And Bea is one of brightest, most responsible kids I know."

Her father crouched down next to her so he was at eye level, his hand resting back on Mae's shoulder.

"And I'm sure she's as glad as we are that you were able to share what you're going through with her."

"Huh. I...I guess?" Mae hadn't actually thought of how Bea really felt about this, which was a little selfish in retrospect. She'd been too tired to consider it when she had been almost-dying on Gregg's couch.

"I mean...Bea's basically acted like a big sister to me since I came back. She was actually pretty eager to help. Like, more eager than she is about most things, anyway."

"Honey, would it be alright if we talked to her about this?"

Mae blinked. She hadn't thought of that.

"Actually, yeah, that probably makes sense. Maybe you can, like...share research notes or something. She probably knows way more about the... science of this stuff than I do."

"Well if I know Bea, she'll do everything she can, and then some."

"What about your other friends? Do Angus and Gregg know about this?"

Mae shook her head.

"I haven't really found the right moment to get into it with them. It just kinda came up with Bea..."

"Well, at least she knows and wants to help. You two do seem to have gotten really close again since you came back."

"We have, yeah." Mae smiled to herself. "I mean, Gregg has always been one of my best friends, but Bea's really..."

Actually, now that she really thought about it, Bea had legitimately saved her life. Not just by physically rescuing her from stupidly confronting certain doom by herself, then tearing her away from the crazed clutches of said doom later that same evening. Bea had been there for her when she had no real reason to be. When she had no leads and nothing but the claims of seeing a ghost who mysteriously kidnapped people through walls and over fences. Angus and Gregg had been there, too, of course, but they hadn't stayed with her and held her hand on the couch that night. She hadn't opened up to them about what happened at college through a haze of pain and tears.

When Mae had come back from school, Bea had outright hated her. She'd even said it right to her face. But nobody ever threatened to personally disassemble a guy for hurting someone they hated, even if that guy was in a secret murder-cult. Even when she was being mean...Bea really cared about her.

Mae suddenly felt an odd heat rising in her cheeks.

"I really don't know what I'd do without her..." she whispered. And she meant it.

Her father grunted softly as he rose to his full height.

"Then I'm glad you two have each other. And you have us to help you, too, kitten."

"Ditto. And I think to start, we're going to ask you to promise us something, too, Mae."

Mae stiffened. Her mother's voice was warm, but firm.

"Please, honey. Don't ever be afraid to come to us or Bea about this. Or anything else that's hurting you."

Her mother hugged her tightly, and this time, Mae didn't protest.

"We may not always understand right away, but we'll always try. And we will always be there to listen even if you just need to talk, okay? No more secrets."

"...Yeah. I promise, mom."

Mae closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully sink into her mother's embrace. She attempted to return the gesture with as much of her stubby arms as she could muster, and remained there for a moment, just enjoying being together.

"Well!" Her father barked, making them both jump. "The first step for me will be calling Dr. Hank tomorrow morning and telling him that we will no longer be requiring his services."

"Thanks, dad."

"And I'll help start looking for a new doctor with you tomorrow, allright, honey?"

"Wait, with me?"

Her mother hummed in agreement.

"You're an adult now. It's only fair that you have more of a say in this, especially since I want to make sure that you're completely happy with the treatment you get."

"Huh. I mean, thanks, but...I don't really know what would be different. I mean, what if Dr. Hank is like, the gold standard of head doctors?"

"If what you said about him is true, I sincerely doubt that, Mae. Don't worry, sweetie, we'll find someone who can help you."

Mae hummed at that. In fact, she thought it would be pretty sad to say Dr. Hank was the gold standard of anything, really. Bronze standard maybe. She wondered briefly if doctorates were issued like Olympic medals.

But it didn't matter, Mae thought, her features splitting in what felt like the first genuine ear-to-ear grin she'd worn in a long, long time. She'd done it, and now her parents and Bea were going to help her deal with whatever garbage her asshole brain came up with. And best of all, she wouldnt have to deal with Dr. Hank anymore.

She beamed at her good old mom and dad, and any lingering anger melted away. Her mother, especially, looked happier than she'd seen her since she first came back home.

"Thanks, mom. I'd really like that."

"And..." Candy's mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk. "If they are anything like Dr. Hank, I'll tell them exactly where to go. I can do that, you know, as a certified church employee."

"That's not, like against the rules? You don't think God would have a beef about you danging random psychiatrists?"

"Special privelages, hon." Candy laughed. "It's one of the perks they don't tell you about."

Mae only smiled wider. She still wasn't sure she believed that there was a God, or if the one that supposedly existed cared about anything at all, but she believed in her parents. She believed in Bea. She was safe, and here, she had people who loved her, no matter what monsters she saw in her head. For the first time in what felt like years, Mae felt truly happy to be home. She had no way of knowing if things would get better in the future, or if she'd find some way to permanently save her from dealing with her condition, but she knew that the people she had in her life could at least save her today, and for many days to come.

fin.