Title: Ten Years
Rating: T currently, rating will increase
Pairing(s): Sebofsky
Warning(s): Mentions of suicide; Other tiny warning mentioned at end of chapter just in case and since I don't like giving away all that happens
Summary: When Sebastian offers friendship to Dave, he accepts it. Sebastian just didn't expect Dave to be so much more than an ex-closet case and for feelings to get in the way.
Chapter Word Count: 4025/?
Beta: None currently. Wouldn't mind one if anyone's willing to do the job!
A/N: This chapter turned out way more angsty than I was expecting, but I hope it still came out right. I really wanted to focus on Sebastian and his own problems for awhile, just to get a good sense of his personality. I'll definitely go into more details in a later chapter, but I have that chapter really plotted out and it's one of my most anticipated (for me) chapters. ANYWAYS, me rambling again. Enjoy!

Chapter 3. Pointlessly

Sebastian had always hated Sundays. That much was a given. Sundays were the days where you sat around aimlessly waiting for Monday, which usually sucked as well. It came after Saturday, when things didn't seem so bad and you could almost believe you were having a good time until Sunday rolled back around. This Sunday in particular really bothered Sebastian. If arguing with a tired teenage boy at five hadn't been enough, trying to make up with said boy and get to an appointment made matters worse. So that's how he ended up driving just a little too fast down a highway with his nerves so strung out he could swear the lightest of touches could make him snap.

Sebastian's hand almost itched to turn the radio's knob on the dashboard. He wanted nothing more than to drown out his thoughts with some mindless top forties songs and to ignore the ever growing nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. It had been bad enough that he had gone out of his way to try to smooth things over with David, he just had to had stopped at the Lima Bean and gotten those fucking muffins and coffees.

Of course, there was a more logical part of him that reminded himself that yes, it had been a fantastic idea to bribe a tired and more than likely hungry Dave with coffee and a muffin. He was glad the other boy had accepted them so easily and that he had listened to Sebastian attempt being nice and apologizing, something entirely foreign to him. He still wished it hadn't taken so much time.

Mainly because now he was rushing to get to a shrink who knew nothing about him and to whom the sentiment was returned. He wasn't scared; Smythes don't get scared. He was only worried that this bitch would turn out like the last bitch or the man-bitch before that. He was worried that his search for a shrink who actually worked would be once again done in vain. Sebastian was simply tired of dealing with the shit that was practiced psychiatry.

The road ahead of him was decidedly undistracting, though, and allowed his thoughts to wander. Scattered ideas of why he was suddenly feeling a small sense of desperation to have a friend and why of all people he had found Dave to be the perfect man for the job. He guessed it had partial rooting with Dave's suicide attempt and Sebastian's own snide remarks edging the boy closer to his metaphorical cliff. Yet Sebastian knew there had to be more to it. He wouldn't decide someone was worthy of his time simply out of pity and besides he was sure that was notwhat Dave was looking for.

So that meant there was something about David Karofsky that intrigued Sebastian. Or at the very least piqued his interest.

His other guess at it was that, and he wasn't entirely sure how, David could see past his defenses. He only thought this because when Dave would look at Sebastian, it was entirely different than the way most of society, most of his so called Dalton friends even, would look at him. It was as if he was looking for another layer to Sebastian, a layer which Sebastian knew was there but never let others see because letting others see meant getting hurt. And Sebastian was the kind who couldn't afford to get hurt.

All in all, he found himself both terrified and considerate of David. He was genuine when he said he wanted to be friends because for once Sebastian thought it might not be the worst idea. It might even be a good one if he didn't fuck things up before they ever even started. And boy, was that starting to sound like a big if.

Sebastian looked out again at the windshield and took in the rain as it began to lightly drizzle, the weather too warm to sustain snow and too cold to make the rain bearable once he got out of the car. He had always had a love hate relationship with rain and today was no different. Sebastian thought that maybe if he were someone more symbolic he'd think about what the rain could mean for his impending visit. He wasn't very symbolic though and only thought it meant this was Ohio and February and that he wouldn't be seeing nothing but ugly, long highways with horrendous minivans left and right in France.

After what felt like a stretch of road that went on forever, Sebastian finally found himself cruising into Westerville. Knowing the way to the office without even having met his newest therapist felt like it was saying something, but he let that thought rest comfortably in the back of his mind and pulled into a parking lot. He parked the car and dodged his way into the building, his hand immediately going up to save him from having wet, long bangs dripping down his forehead. Sebastian usually prided himself on being fairly masculine even with being an obvious twink, but his hair was a different issue and it wasn't based entirely in self image. It just wasn't particularly fun to have his hair flat and sticky from hair care product and rain.

Walking into the reception area, Sebastian went through the usual routine. Smile casually at the receptionist, fill out the ever so boring form, wait patiently only to be called in at random by the therapist of the month.

And bingo, there it was.

He didn't, however, expect his newest therapist to be so old.Not in the rude way that teenagers would call forty somethings and fifty somethings old, but the way you would call your grandmother old when describing her. It wasn't a harsh sense of the word, simply the truth.

The office was a soft reddish-brown hue with book cases filled to the brim on both sides. He chanced a glance at the book selection and was surprised to not see theory books or any other type of book you'd expect at a shrink's office, but books by authors that people actually read. Popular authors, really. He speculated why internally but decided not to question it aloud until he got to know the woman better.

Ifhe did, rather.

Sebastian eased himself into a chair across from the desk and casually gave the rest of the room a once over before returning his gaze to the surprisingly kind eyed woman in front of him. Her smile was soft and cornered with deep laugh lines, her face inviting and hinting at a beauty from some time long ago. She had soft greyed curls tucked into a loose bun behind her head, pinned with a rose clip at the root, and a traditional woman's suit jacket and skirt. Her eyes were a milky shade of hazel that stood out shockingly against her olive complexion. Behind the details he could tell that this woman was beautiful and could easily picture her as what most would consider a fox in her youth.

"I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Smythe. My name is Mrs. Tareff." she said, her voice apparently just as inviting and with the hint of an accent he couldn't place. It was so subtle that he thought it must have been subdued from years in America or around family members who didn't hold an accent. Sebastian kept his face complacent for the time being and continued to stare on, only giving a terse nod in acknowledgement. The woman's smile didn't falter.

"So do you wish to tell me about yourself or is this going to be one of those sessions where neither of us bother to comment?" She had a knowing smile in place, as if the routine was almost old to her. Sebastian just shrugged and picked at the fabric of his shirt, watching the stray string break off when he pulled harder. The quiet stretched out a great deal of time before she finally decided to speak again. "Let's just see what your past doctors have left in your file for me."

She opened up a drawer from behind the desk and rummaged through folders until pulling out a thick one with a paper clipped paper with Sebastian's name on it at the corner. She opened the file and glanced through the notes. Sebastian guessed there wasn't much in there that would be personal, seeing as therapists tended to keep that information private, but knew that important things like contact information and probably a list of prescribed medication. She kept her face set with a neutral smile and closed the folder, gingerly placing it back in the drawer and looking back to Sebastian.

"I'm not going to push you to speak with me, Sebastian. If you'd prefer to keep quiet, we can spend our sessions together doing just that." she said. "I will have to tell your parents about lack of progress when asked, but I firmly believe in waiting for you to open up to me."

He looked away from her to stare up at the ceiling, leaning his head against the back of the chair. The leather of the cushion was cool on his neck and the ceiling was covered in swirl like ripples of paint. He wondered without reason about how people created these blank ceiling with sharp ripples and random shapes. The silence felt almost too loud, though, and he looked down once again at the woman. He sighed and rubbed at his temples quickly.

"I don't want to tell you my life's story or go into details about everything that's happened with me lately. I hate introductions honestly." he said. She nodded her head in affirmation and he continued. "I hate how you always feel the need to tell your therapist that. How they'll ask when something started like you actually keep track of those sort of things. So I'm not going to do that here. I'm going to tell you about what I want to and you can ask me questions about that. Well, besides when it started or when I started feeling something or whatever other bullshit questions that have the word start in them."

Her smile widened fractionally and she yet again nodded.

"So, there's this guy and- well first off you need to know that I'm about as queer as a three dollar bill. If there's a problem with that then we won't work to begin with." When she didn't object but simply sat there quietly, Sebastian exhaled and looked back up at the ceiling, tired of seeing her imploring smile. "So. There's this guy. I may or may not have been a total dick to him when I thought he was hitting on me at a bar. I told him some harsh stuff about his looks and then he left me alone. A few weeks ago I found out this guy tried to hang himself. Turns out he knows some people I know or at least they know ofhim and word got around. They didn't know about the incident with us. I panicked at first because I thought it was my fault somehow. I went on facebook the day the told me and saw this guy getting shit thrown at him left and right and broke down crying for like thirty minutes."

Sebastian leaned back farther in the chair and let his legs push down into the carpet more. He closed his eyes and let his head rest on the cushion again.

"The thing is, I never cry. I just don't. But seeing all of that hate on his profile and realizing I was just as much scum as these douchebags really fucked with me. I couldn't even look at myself without feeling sick for at least a day or two. I didn't really know him, just knew his name and that he used to go to school with someone I know, but this was still some guy that I could have helped and instead I made him feel even worse. I didn't know he was going to be outed by someone at his school and then bullied relentlessly, but I still felt like I could have done something.

Anyway. Point is, I was a dick to the guy and then he tried to kill himself. My last shrink told me a while back I should try to make a real friend instead of keeping the string of fake one I have. I didn't really care then, but I decided a few days ago that maybe it was something I might actually need. So I figured, what better person than the guy I could have helped? I go to the same bar the other night, and there he is. So I apologize. Ask him to be friends. Surprisingly, he agrees. Now I'm just trying to see if it'll work somehow because he - Dave, Dave's his name by the way - he seems like a genuinely nice guy deep down. Temperamental, but nice. And I sorta want to help him somehow. Show him that he still has people here for him and that being gay isn't so bad. I just.. I'm kind of worried I'll fuck it up like I fuck up everything else."

She was quiet through all of it and Sebastian was beginning to think maybe this lady would never talk when she spoke again.

"Not that I think it isn't a good idea for the two of you to become friends, but do you think some of the regret you feel is due to your own attempt and how you wish others had prevented it?" she asked.

Sebastian suddenly felt colder and warmer at once. Part of him wanted to do nothing more than run out the door but he stayed glued to his chair. He thought that maybe he really was glued because he didn't think he could move at all, he just couldn't move. He calmed his breathing and kept his eyes closed, counting down in his head until he wasn't as nervous or unreasonably agitated. He hated how he was always like that when people talked about suicide, how he would always freeze up right away or suddenly feel like punching someone.

He figured it was just left over baggage from trying to off his self, but it didn't take away the panicky feeling he got when the subject was brought up. It had been years. Feeling triggered by something that happened so long ago seemed pointless.

"Are you alright?" Mrs. Tareff said. He nodded his head and exhaled slowly.

"Just don't like talking about that. Brings back old memories." he replied. Which wasn't really a lie. He did hate thinking about that point in his life. He had worked hard to force the memory to the back of his mind, to forget those two months in a hospital facility surrounded by other 'troubled' teens. It wasn't a high point for him. Three years had really changed things. He wasn't that boy anymore. He didn't think he'd even recognize that boy now. "To be honest? Yes. I do think part of it is because I know what he's going through, but that isn't the sole reason. No one even knows about that here and I plan on keeping it that way. No one needs to know that I was a stupid, whiny teenager like everyone else. I'm sixteen now. I was thirteen back then. I've moved on from that. I just think maybe I can help him through this. He doesn't need to know, but I know what it feels like and maybe that'll be enough because I'll know better than his other friends and family what he needs to hear."

He slowly opened his eyes and looked back to the woman, his eyes feeling almost heavy in his head. He tried hard to forget about the why to his attempt. He didn't need to think about that right now. His problems weren't important and he didn't need to talk about that. He hoped he never would.

Mrs. Tareff regarded him silently with soft eyes. She glanced from his face to the wall behind him and then down to her desk, obviously thinking over her words.

"I think that this could be good for you." she said. "Befriending him. It could be good for you and him. I just want you to remember, Mr. Smythe, that you shouldn't close yourself off from your emotions. If the two of you grow close then by all means open up to him. If he opens up to you, I think it may be good for you to return the gesture. You seem to close your self off from others a lot, and if it's true that you haven't got many other close friends-"

"Any." he interrupted. She paused and smiled despite herself.

"Any close friends, than it would be good for you to have this one. You deserve to be yourself around someone."

Sebastian nodded mutely and looked down into his lap, his hands wringing seemingly of their own accord. He didn't think it would be easy to open up to anyone. Didn't know if he even wanted to. Just knew that somehow he knew she was right and yet he still didn't know if he could go through with it. It seemed so dangerous to be open with someone like that. His own family rarely knew how he felt about things, telling someone who was only a teenager like himself seemed weird.

Sebastian vaguely wondered when he had become this. When did he close himself off from others, making sure to never say what he was feeling or what he really wanted? When did things like being sad begin to feel weak and when did liking someone begin to seem trivial? He didn't have to question it long because he knew, just didn't want to face the answer. Not right now. Hopefully he'd just always push it back. He didn't think he'd ever be ready to think about that.

Mrs. Tareff glanced up at the clock and her smile fell slightly. Sebastian wondered how time had slipped past so quickly, he didn't think it seemed possible to have already been an hour. They hadn't really gotten much even done, if there was anything to getdone.

"So, next Sunday I guess I'll be seeing you again. Same time, same place." she said with a small laugh. "It was nice meeting you, Sebastian. I know that we don't particularly know each other yet, but I believe this was a sufficient first session."

Sebastian chanced a smile and stood up awkwardly, nudging out the room without another word. He walked down the hall way and into the waiting room again before bracing himself for the rain. He opened the front door with one hand and covered his hair with the other, running as quick as he could to where his car was parked. Once inside, he dropped his forehead against the steering wheel and closed his eyes.

Breathing in and out, he calmed his thoughts and tried to push aside the underlining sadness he felt. He couldn't deal with this right now. It was all too much for him. He just needed to get his mind off of things. He just needed to forget about today. Possibly about his life, for just a little while.

When he got home twenty minutes later, he noticed the absence of either of his parents cars.

Figures, he thought. Not like they have a teenage son to stay home for or anything.

He had become so used to his parents not being home that it was ridiculous. Sometimes they would be gone for weeks, even a month and a half once, and they would leave Sebastian with only credit cards, cash, and the promise of missing him while they were gone. It seemed like that's all it ever was, though. If they really missed him, he realized, they would stayevery once and awhile. And yet, that never happened. So Sebastian had resigned himself to a life without the distraction of his family. He decided to live while he could and do whatever made him happy, fuck responsibility.

That day, for example, was going to be one of those days. He headed for the kitchen the moment he got in the house and straight to the wine bottles in the side door of the refrigerator, grabbing the first one in his sights and taking it with him to his room. On his door, there was a carefully taped note that read, 'Your father's trip was extended and we couldn't make it home this week. I asked Rita to leave some sealed off food in the fridge. We're sorry honey and we miss you. Love, Mom'.Sebastian huffed and ripped the paper off, before crumpling it up and throwing it into the bin beside his door. He searched through his desk for a bottle opener and took out the cork, then flopped onto his bed and started on the bottle.

Some days Sebastian just couldn't take the world and this day was no different. He tried desperately to drink until thoughts of boys who couldn't take no for an answer and family members who didn't care if you died left his mind. It was to no avail but the alcohol made him feel warm and fuzzy, dulling the pain just enough for him to pretend things were okay for a little while.

So he did. He imagined a world where his first time was with a sweet boy who really loved him. Where he didn't resort to sleeping with every man he could just because he didn't want sex to mean something. Because in Sebastian's world it couldn't. Not anymore. He thought of a world where when he was in the hospital for those first few days, practically begging his grandparents to visit, that they did. That his family wasn't ashamed of him for being the mess he was. That maybe he wouldn't even be a mess if his parents would only stay sometimes.

He imagined it all and almost laughed because he knew that it was all just a big joke. This was the life he had been dealt and he needed to suck up and deal with it. He needed to simply put the past behind him and focus on the future. Besides, he was only sixteen. He had his whole life ahead of him. He could set things right. He could clean up and stop messing around. He could even stop drinking every time his parents were gone and he was sad. Maybe he could really work things out with Dave and gain a good friend.

But even those thoughts seemed abstract. What difference did it make for his whole life to be ahead of him when it would only be just as fucked up as his present? He'd probably never do any of those things. And if he were being completely honest with himself, he really thought being friends with Dave was probably a disaster waiting to happen. The odds of him being a good friend to Dave and him hurting Dave worse than he already had were pretty uneven, the latter winning out by a landslide.

Soon enough he had drunk most of the bottle and it was dark outside, no longer the grey color with blues mixed in but an ugly grey that seemed to be devoid of all other colors. He hated it just as much as he hated the cold rainy day it had been. A rainy night didn't sound much better and if it began storming Sebastian was almost positive he was going to start crying. He hated storms and he was beginning to feel fairly intoxicated, leaving Sebastian vulnerable and highly likely to do something stupid like cry. Only seemed befitting, though.

Sebastian drifted off before being awoken by the first roar of thunder. He shook as he sat up, feeling hot tears already streaming down his face.

Sebastian really hated Sundays.

—-

Warning: Slight mentions of sexual assault