Just a little disclaimer: I don't have PTSD and don't know anyone who does have PTSD (at least not in the same way that Will does). If I get something wrong, I apologize. I am using the internet for this and am always open to constructive criticism.
Also, it's going to take a few chapters, but the word "puppy" is in the title for a reason and it doesn't have anything to do with shallow romantic attachment. I think you can figure it out by reading the tags. Characters and tags will be added as they show up and I'll make sure to tag any trigger warnings as they appear. If I forget to tag something as a TW, please let me know!
Comments are always appreciated!
"I'm not going in there," Will said, crossing his arms and sliding down in his seat.
"Yes you are," Jem said. They had been sitting in the parked car for ten minutes now. The car had been off and the doors unlocked for that entire time. Jem had taken his seatbelt off and was holding the keys in his hand, ready to get out, but Will was not moving a muscle. Luckily, Jem had anticipated this and had made sure they arrived at least half an hour early for Will's 4:00 appointment.
"If I go in there, she's going to tell me I have something that I definitely don't have and make me do all this medication and stuff that we can't even afford."
Jem shook his head and looked over at Will. "You don't know that."
"I'm 100% positive."
"Well, we aren't leaving until you go in there and talk to her for half an hour. I don't know about you, but I have better things to do than to sit in a parking lot all day."
"Fine," Will snarled. He quickly unbuckled himself and got out, slamming the car door behind him much harder than usual.
Jem quickly got out and followed Will up the concrete stairs to the front door. He got there just in time to have the door slammed in his face. Wherever they went, Will always went through first and held the door for Jem, but he clearly wasn't in the mood at the moment.
When Jem got inside, he saw Will standing at the front desk talking to the receptionist. He still looked angry and for a second Jem was worried that he was going to traumatize the poor receptionist, but she wasn't at all fazed. She probably saw a lot of really angry people on a daily basis.
Jem took a seat in one of the chairs and waited for Will to come over. When he did, he didn't even acknowledge Jem and just sat down two chairs away with his arms crossed. Jem knew that Will was angry at him for making him come here, but something needed to be done. No matter how many times Will insisted that nothing was wrong with him, it was obvious something was very wrong. Completely healthy people didn't have panic attacks or flashbacks every day or wake up screaming in the middle of the night.
Jem spent the last few minutes before Will got called back flipping through a magazine that was on the table next to his chair. When the door next to the reception desk opened and the woman who came through called Will's name, he stood up, and with one final glare at Jem, followed her through the door to the offices.
. .
Will was angry. Actually, scratch that. He was livid.
He had told Jem multiple times that he didn't want or need a therapist, and now he was walking through a hallway on his way to see one. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him and this whole thing was just going to be a waste of time and money. He didn't care that the army had recommended this therapist. All she was going to do was tell him that he had something that he definitely didn't have and make him do stupid things to get rid of it.
"Right through here," the woman said, gesturing to an open door. Will went through and found himself in what was very clearly a therapist's office, judging from the certificates hanging on the wall and the woman typing on a computer at a desk. She looked up when he walked in and smiled.
"You must be Will! I'm Dr. Branwell," she said as she got up. She thanked the other woman and then put her hand out for him to shake. After he had done so, she pointed to one of the chairs behind him and said, "Have a seat and we can get started."
Will sat down and she picked up a notepad and a pen and sat down in a chair across from him. "Now," she said, "it's pretty obvious that you don't want to be here. I completely understand, but you should know that this will only go quickly if you cooperate."
"We'll see," Will said. He crossed his arms again in an attempt to make himself appear more indifferent. Maybe if he wasn't cooperative enough she would give up and just send him home.
"I just have a couple of questions to ask you for this session. Today we're just going to be focusing on getting a diagnosis. In the rest of the sessions, we'll be working on some treatment plans, but I just want to get a bit of a baseline for you. Ready?"
"Do I get a choice?"
"Not really, no," Dr. Branwell said, smiling. "Alright, first question: Where you exposed to a traumatic event by directly experiencing or witnessing it, learning about a close friend or family member experiencing it, or indirect exposure to the details of it?"
Will didn't want to answer at first, but finally decided that it would be easier if he did and said, "Yeah."
"Care to specify?" she asked.
"The first one."
Dr. Branwell nodded and wrote something down on her notepad. "Thank you. Now, do you persistently re-experience the event through unwanted upsetting memories, nightmares, flashbacks, emotional distress after being exposed to a reminder or physical reactions after being exposed?"
Will shrugged. "I guess it's yes to all of those, but I don't know about the last one."
"I assume the last one is part of it too judging by what you said. Do you have any trauma-related thoughts or feelings or external reminders of the event?"
Will unconsciously reached down and scratched at the spot on his leg that was still in the process of healing. "Yes to both."
Dr. Branwell immediately noticed what he had done and wrote something down along with Will's answer. "Did you have any negative thoughts or feelings that began or worsened after the event that manifested as an inability to recall the event, negative thoughts or assumptions about yourself or the world, blaming yourself or others for causing the event, a negative personality, decreased interest in activities, feeling isolated, or having trouble having a more positive personality?"
"Yes to everything but the first one."
"Do you have trauma-related arousal that began or worsened after the event such as irritability or aggression, risky or destructive behavior, hypervigilance, a heightened startle reaction, difficulty concentrating, or difficulty sleeping?"
Will immediately thought back to how angry he had been when he came in and about how he hadn't had a good night's sleep in months. "All of that."
"Have these symptoms been happening for more than one month?"
Will shrugged. "They started before I even got home so it's been three months."
"Have these symptoms impaired your social life or occupations?"
He nodded but didn't elaborate. He wasn't proud of what he often did when around anyone besides Jem and she didn't need the details.
"Alright, one more question. Are these symptoms due to any medication, substances, or other illnesses?"
"Not that I know of."
Dr. Branwell nodded and read over her notes for a minute. When she finished, she looked up at Will and said, "First, I want to thank you for answering so honestly. It makes this a lot easier for both of us. Now, I know you aren't going to want to hear this, but based on everything you told me, I am positive that you have post-traumatic stress disorder."
Will just stared at her. Jem had been saying it since he got home, but he hadn't listened to him. He had planned to deny the diagnosis and just not come to therapy again, but now that he was hearing a professional say it, he knew both her and Jem were right. He wasn't the same as he had been before he left, and it wasn't a good difference.
"I know it seems like everything is going to change after this, but it doesn't have to. There's a lot we can do to help you, alright?" Dr. Branwell said. "We'll make you an appointment for next week and we can start working on some different treatments. I'm not going to prescribe any medications right now because I want to learn a bit more about you before I do. However, I am going to give you some homework."
"Homework on the first day? I definitely wasn't expecting that," Will joked. It made him feel a bit better about the news he had just been given.
"I know, nobody expects it. I want you to make a list of all your triggers. Either sit down and think about it or write them down when they happen. You might even find some you didn't know you had. We can go through them one by one and figure out either how to avoid them or how to deal with them when they come up. It would also help me if I knew the story behind these triggers, but I understand that it may be too hard to talk about at the moment." She got up and went over to her desk, where she picked up a small stack of papers. She handed them to Will and said, "I also want to give you these. They're about PTSD and some of the possible treatments. You don't have to have them all read by next week, but you should just take a look at them."
Will took the papers from her and glanced at the one on top. All he saw were copious mentions of PTSD, trauma, and symptoms. He definitely wouldn't be able to get through them all in a week.
"Does this day and time work for you?" Dr. Branwell asked.
"At the moment, yeah," Will said.
"Perfect. I'll have them make you an appointment for the same time next week. It was great to meet you," she said, standing up and holding her hand out for Will to shake.
He stood up and shook her hand. "I'll try not to show up in a mood again, but I can't make any promises."
"I guess we'll see," she laughed. "Do you know the way out?"
"I'll figure it out," Will said. He left her office and made his way back to the waiting room. Jem was reading a magazine in the same chair he had been in when Will left and he instantly felt a twinge of anger at seeing him. As soon as it appeared, though, he pushed it back down. Jem was just trying to do what was best for Will and he didn't deserve his anger.
Jem looked up as Will came over and smiled. "All done?"
Will nodded and Jem stood up. "Do you need to make an appointment for next week or are they doing that for you?"
"They're doing it," Will said. He still wasn't happy about it, but he hadn't been given much of a choice in the matter.
"Great," Jem said. "Let's go."
They left the office and made their way to where Jem had parked the car an hour earlier. Will was holding the stack of pamphlets so tightly that they were getting wrinkled and creased. Just thinking about reading them was making him tense, which lately had been leading to anger. As soon as he was buckled in, though, he picked up the first one and started reading.
It was all about the causes and symptoms of PTSD. It probably wasn't the best thing to read right after being diagnosed with it, but he couldn't stop himself. He could feel his heart speeding up as he read about all of the types of trauma that could cause PTSD, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't put it down.
Will hadn't realized that they had left the parking lot until a hand pushed a McDonald's chocolate shake in front of him. He looked up to see Jem looking at him, and past him, the drive-thru window of the aforementioned McDonald's.
"You can have this if you give me those," Jem said, gesturing to the stack of pamphlets.
Will reluctantly handed the stack to Jem, who threw them into the back seat, and took the shake. He was itching to reach back and grab at least one, but instead, he held the cup with both hands like a little kid and focused on trying to get a too-frozen shake through a too-small straw. He wondered why they weren't driving away yet until Jem reached up again and took a bag from the person at the drive-thru. The bag ended up in Will's lap and he opened it to find a box of chicken nuggets and a packet of ranch dipping sauce.
"What's this for?" he asked as Jem started to drive away.
"I'm proud of you," Jem said.
"For what?"
"For going to therapy. I know you didn't want to and you could have just stayed in the car the whole time, but you went anyway. I also noticed that you were getting a little stressed out about those pamphlets so calm down and eat your chicken nuggets and drink your shake."
"Thanks," Will said, but he wasn't really sure if he was thanking Jem for the food.
. .
The rest of the day went alright, despite the earlier events. Jem had hidden the pamphlets as soon as they got home and refused to tell Will where they were. He said that they were going to sit down the next day and go through them together so Will didn't get overwhelmed, but Will wasn't looking forward to that. He wanted to do it by himself so Jem didn't have to deal with all of that too.
They made dinner together, with Will complaining about the amount of vegetables as usual and Jem trying to sneak even more in. Will somehow ended up with little bits of broccoli in his hair, which Jem had to pick out before he tried to eat them.
After they had been eating for a few minutes, Jem put his fork down and said, "I know you probably don't want to talk about this, but did she give you any kind of homework?"
Jem was exactly right in thinking that Will didn't want to talk about it, but he answered anyway, knowing that Jem wouldn't give up until he got an answer. "I'm supposed to make a list of all my triggers."
"All the ones you know of or new ones too?"
"All of them. The ones I know about for sure and new ones that come up." There seemed to be at least one new one every week. Just last week, there had been a bit of an incident after biting into a sandwich made with slightly stale bread. Stale bread had been perfectly fine for years and hadn't caused any problems until just recently.
"I can help if you want it," Jem said.
Will quickly shook his head. "I can do it on my own. They are my triggers, after all."
Jem smiled. "That's true. Well, if you won't accept my help, can I give you a tiny piece of advice?" He waited until Will nodded, then said, "Keep a notepad or something with you so you can write them down as they come up. It won't work if you forget what it is before you write it."
"Maybe," Will said.
When they finished eating, Will washed the dishes while Jem put the leftovers away. Will hadn't eaten all of his dinner, but Jem had been expecting that after the shake and fries he'd had earlier. He'd eaten a little more than half of it, but that was enough for Jem. As long as he ate, he was happy.
As soon as they had finished cleaning up from dinner, they got ready for bed. Last night hadn't been great for either of them because of nightmares, so they were both tired. Will was also mentally exhausted from the events of the day and was starting to fall asleep the minute his head hit the pillow. There was a notepad and pen sitting on the bedside table just in case it was needed and Jem was on the other side of the bed reading a book.
Will reached over and picked up the book that he was currently reading. He hadn't made much progress on it for a while, but he still tried. It seemed that his mind was too occupied by other things most of the time to do any sort of reading. Either that, or he was too tired from being up all night with nightmares. At the moment, it seemed to be the latter. He hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep until he was woken up by Jem taking the book out of his hands. It had happened before and had always resulted in Will waking up calmly or not waking up at all, but things were different now. He woke up suddenly with his heart racing in his chest. His hands immediately flew up to protect himself until his brain registered where he was and he realized that he wasn't back There.
"Sorry," Jem said, grimacing. "I was hoping I could do that without waking you up."
"It's fine," Will muttered. "It's pretty hard to do anything without waking me up."
Jem put both books down on his bedside table and turned back to Will. "Are you alright?"
Will nodded, even though his heart was still racing and he could feel his hands shaking. "I'm fine."
"Can I turn the light off?"
"Yeah," Will said. He turned onto his side as Jem turned off his lamp and reached up to do the same to the other lamp.
Will had to keep himself from jumping when he felt Jem put an arm over him. It was just Jem, nothing to worry about. Everything was going to be fine.
. .
Not even two hours later, Will was gasping awake from a nightmare and sitting bolt upright in bed. It hadn't been a bad nightmare, certainly not like the ones that had him screaming when he woke up, but it was bad enough that his heart was racing again and he was breathing like he had just run a marathon. It all became even worse when he realized he couldn't see.
All he could see was darkness. He was surrounded by nothing but blackness and it felt like it was suffocating him. It had been dark There. That had to be where he was. He was back there after being safe for so long and he had nothing to protect himself with. He reached out to the side to find some sort of weapon and found an arm instead. It felt like Jem's arm. That wasn't possible. Jem hadn't been there before so why would he be there now? He couldn't be there. He was supposed to be safe at home but instead he was in danger and it was all Will's fault.
He still couldn't see. The sun was too bright and it hurt his eyes and all he could see was blobs and shapes and he could only hear voices. None of the voices were talking to him and he didn't know what was happening. He just wanted to be able to see again and go home to Jem and he just wanted to breathe.
. .
Jem woke up to the feeling of somebody holding his arm in a tight grip. It wasn't the first time, but it was the first time that the sound of somebody gasping for breath accompanied it instead of the sound of Will snoring. He immediately knew something was wrong and opened his eyes to see Will sitting up in bed and looking very panicked. It was his hand that had a death grip on Jem's arm and he didn't want to make anything worse by trying to get free so he just left it alone.
Jem carefully sat up and debating putting his hand on Will's shoulder but decided against it. He'd noticed how much Will had jumped when they were going to sleep earlier, and if it was that bad when he wasn't panicking, it was probably much worse now. Instead, he leaned in as close as he could get without touching Will and said, "You're safe, Will. You're not back there. We're in our flat in London, remember?"
That got a response, but it wasn't what Jem was looking for. Will quickly snapped his head towards Jem and stared him right in the eyes, but Jem knew that Will wasn't seeing him at all. Either that, or he was seeing somebody else's face on Jem's body. From this angle, he could clearly see just how terrified Will looked. He had never seen Will look like that before the events of a few months ago, and since then, he had seen it way too much.
Jem tried saying Will's name a few times, but he got no answer. As soon as Will turned away from him again to stare at whatever he was seeing in the corner of the room, he abandoned that tactic. Will obviously wasn't hearing him and it wasn't doing anything. Instead, he looked down at Will's other hand, the one that wasn't on his arm, and noticed that he seemed to be blindly grasping for something as if he couldn't see where it was.
With a jolt, Jem suddenly realized what was going on. It was dark in the room and Jem had had a hard time seeing when he woke up. This was normal for him, but for Will… There were two different things he could think of that Will could possibly be having a flashback to and both were directly related to how dark the room was.
It wasn't easy to lean over and turn the lamp on with Will holding his arm, but Jem managed it and immediately felt Will jump when it turned on. He straightened himself back up and looked over to see Will staring at the light. It probably hurt, judging from how Jem's eyes felt, but at least it was something. He still didn't think that Will was really hearing anything he said, but some talking probably wouldn't hurt.
"They didn't have a light there, remember?" Jem said. "We have a light in our room in our flat, where it's safe. What about that dresser there? There weren't any dressers."
Jem kept going on like that, listing all of the things he could see and reminding Will that he wasn't where he thought he was. He was starting to run out of things and had resorted to telling Will about a cat toy half-hidden behind the dresser when he finally, finally, felt Will's grip on his arm loosen. When he looked away from the cat toy, he saw Will looking at him and, for the first time since he woke up, he knew that it was actually him that Will saw.
Jem watched Will look around the room at everything he had pointed out for a minute, then said, "Feeling better?"
Will nodded shakily. "Slightly."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Will shook his head that time. Jem had been hoping that he would say yes, but he wasn't surprised.
"That's fine," he said. "Do you want to lay down?"
"In a minute," Will answered. He looked down at Jem's arm and quickly pulled his hand away. "Sorry."
Jem shook his head and smiled. "I don't mind. You can keep it there if you want."
He didn't get a reply, but he felt Will's hand return a few seconds later. This time, he had a tight grip on Jem's hand instead of his arm, which Jem was grateful for. It would give him a much better range of motion if he needed to do anything.
After a few minutes of just sitting there, Jem saw Will looking at his pillow and asked again if he wanted to lay down. The answer this time was yes, and Jem soon found himself laying on his back with Will pressing himself tightly against Jem's side.
They had been laying in silence for half an hour and Jem had started to think that Will was asleep again when he heard, "You can turn off the light if you want to go to sleep."
"Are you sure?" Jem asked. The last time the light had been off, it hadn't been pretty. Despite that, he still felt Will from where his head was pressed up against Jem's arm. He carefully shifted until he could reach the switch for the lamp and turned it off.
He was surprised when he immediately heard Will's breath hitch and speed up. Luckily, he hadn't moved from where he had been and was able to turn the lamp back on right away.
"I said you could turn it off," Will muttered.
"I decided not to. You'll just have to deal with it."
"As long as you're sure…"
"I am sure. Just try to go to sleep, alright? I'm right here if anything happens."
"I have to do something first," Will said. Jem's eyes were closed by then, but he felt Will move away and then the sound of a pen on paper a second later. He smiled, glad that Will seemed to be actually taking this seriously. He heard the pen click closed and then Will appeared right next to him again. Jem was already half asleep, and Will followed him in a few minutes. It definitely wouldn't be the last time either of them woke up that night, but they knew that. They were used to it by now.
On Will's bedside table, the blank notepad was blank no more.
Triggers:
-Darkness/not being able to see
. .
Jem was standing in front of the stove, listening very closely for any sound from the kettle in front of him. He'd started turning the heat off before the kettle started whistling to avoid a repeat of a few incidents that had happened in the last few months. An electric kettle would be a much easier way to do it, but Jem's strategy worked for now.
He had been standing there the entire time with his hand on the knob for the burner, so when he heard a slight hissing from the kettle, he immediately turned it off and poured the water into the teapot. After setting the timer, he very carefully crept over to the other side of the kitchen and opened the junk drawer as quietly as he could. It was difficult to not make too much noise while he moved everything aside, but eventually, he pulled out a certain stack of pamphlets that had been hiding in there since they got home from the therapist's office the day before. The ones on the top and bottom of the stack were wrinkled exactly in the spots where Will had been holding them the day before, which just made Jem's decision a lot easier.
He'd said that they were going to go through them together that day, but after the events of yesterday and the way Will had been acting all day, he wasn't sure if that was a good idea anymore. It was a lot to take in without already having PTSD and just being diagnosed the day before didn't make it any better. Jem had decided that, instead of subjecting Will to going through all of that information, he would go through the pamphlets himself and make a list of stuff to talk about with Will.
He had just gotten through the first page of the top pamphlet when the timer went off. He quickly hid the stack in the bottom of the junk drawer again and went back over to the stove to pour the tea into the mugs he had already had out. When that was done, he took care of the milk and sugar and took the tea out to Will, who was sitting in the armchair next to the window with his feet up on the chair and his knees pulled into his chest.
Jem handed Will the mug in his right hand since that one had the right amount of sugar and milk. He put the other mug down on the coffee table a few feet away. He knew that Will wasn't in the mood to talk at all, so he was going to just sit on the couch and read his book and just make sure he was nearby in case he was needed. But first…
"Do you want anything else?" Jem asked. He was planning on getting himself a biscuit or two from the kitchen and he knew that Will would be very unhappy if Jem got some for himself and not him.
"I'm good, thanks," Will said.
Jem nodded and went into the kitchen for his biscuits. He left the package out on the counter just in case Will changed his mind, but Jem was pretty sure he wouldn't. Before he left the kitchen, he made sure to write down the calorie count for the tea on the piece of paper on the fridge under the calories for breakfast and lunch.
Jem had to make a quick stop in the bedroom for his book, but soon he was sitting on the couch with his tea, biscuits, and book. As he reached forward to put his tea on the coffee table after taking a drink, he realized that the notepad Will was using to write down his triggers was sitting there. He looked over at Will, but he was facing away from Jem and looking out the window. If Jem was to take a quick peek at the list, he wouldn't see it.
He had noticed the first one on the list that morning, but there were a few new ones that had been added since then. Under "Darkness/not being able to see," there was "stale bread," "sudden noises," and "blood." The last two were pretty common triggers, but the first one was going to be interesting for the therapist. Even Jem didn't know why that was a trigger, but he'd certainly seen what happened when it was encountered. It wasn't something he was going to ask about, though. He didn't want to force Will to tell him anything and was content to wait until he was ready. He knew that if he had gone through something like what Will did, he wouldn't want to tell someone about it before he was ready.
Jem sat up again and picked up his book. Will was still staring out the window and hadn't noticed Jem looking at the list. He looked like he'd been up half the night, and Jem wasn't surprised. That first nightmare certainly hadn't been the last one, and Jem knew that he was lying awake for a long time after Jem fell asleep again most times before finally giving up and getting out of bed around 5 AM. Jem felt horrible for being able to just sleep peacefully while Will couldn't, but he knew Will wouldn't be happy if he sacrificed his sleep.
Jem reluctantly pulled his gaze away from Will and focused on his book. He didn't have that much more to go, but he hadn't been able to read for very long the night before. He would probably be able to finish it while he had his tea, but he wouldn't know until he actually started.
. .
Thirty minutes later, Jem closed his book after finishing it and was about to get up to bring his empty mug and plate to the kitchen when he heard a yawn. He looked over to see Will in the middle of a jaw-cracking yawn, looking like he was about to fall asleep in the armchair. His mug was sitting on the table, which meant that he'd either finished it or had given up on drinking it. He hoped it was the former, but he wouldn't be surprised if the mug wasn't empty.
"You should take a nap," Jem said.
Will jumped like he had either forgotten Jem was there or had been rudely awoken from a slight doze. "I'm fine. I don't need a nap."
"I feel like I need a nap and I got a lot more sleep than you did. Just go lay down, at least. I'll wake you up when it's time for dinner."
Will glared at him like a petulant child for a minute, then grumbled "Fine." and got up. Jem grabbed his arm before he could stomp off to the bedroom and said, "Sleep tight! Don't let the bedbugs bite!" He finished with a quick kiss on Will's cheek, which instantly made him turn red and quickly pull his arm out of Jem's grasp.
Jem watched him go with a smile, then turned around to collect the dishes. Thankfully, Will had finished all of his tea. That had been happening a lot more lately, but there were some rare occasions where he didn't finish it all. That was alright, as long as he had most of it.
It would be the perfect time to look through the pamphlets, but Jem knew that there was a chance he might be needed at some point and he didn't want to risk leaving them out where Will could find them and look at them. He could find time later that day to do it. Instead, he just washed the dishes and then went back to the living room to get the bookmark he'd been using. He needed to put it back in the drawer of his bedside table, but he also wanted to make sure Will was asleep or at least attempting to sleep. It had been at least fifteen minutes since he'd sent Will off, which was more than enough time for him to fall asleep with how tired he was.
Jem opened the bedroom door very carefully in case Will was asleep and was very pleased to find that he was. He was laying face down and had somehow managed to take up the entire bed. He'd fallen asleep in the middle of taking off his shoes because the one that wasn't on the floor was untied but still on his foot. Jem wanted to take it off, but he knew it would probably wake Will up and it wouldn't be pretty.
As he put his bookmark back in his drawer as quietly as possible, Jem noticed that the curtains were still open. Any other person would have closed the blinds to prevent the sun from coming in and waking them up, but after what had happened the night before, Jem knew exactly why they were open. It was a good solution, but not one they could replicate at night. He'd have to figure something out before they went to bed.
Jem tiptoed out of the room and closed the door, but not all the way like Will had. He left it open just a crack just in case and went into the room that used to be Will's and had since been turned into a sort of office for Jem. He had a stack of sheet music to look at that would help pass the time until he needed to start dinner.
. .
The rare pleasure of waking up normally and not from a nightmare was ruined by the fact that Will really, really had to go to the bathroom. That was his fault for drinking tea and then falling asleep, but it was probably time to get up anyway. It was almost time for dinner and if he slept any longer he definitely wouldn't be waking up normally.
As soon as he sat up and put his feet on the floor, Will realized that he had obviously fallen asleep prematurely and had only gotten around to taking off one shoe and untying the other one. The missing shoe was laying on the floor right at the edge of the bed and the one he was still wearing soon joined it before he made his way to the bathroom. He could hear Jem clattering around in the kitchen as he finished up and, once he'd dried his hands, he went off down the hall to see if Jem would let him help.
Jem started laughing as soon as Will entered the kitchen. He quickly realized that he hadn't even looked in the mirror in the bathroom and probably looked a little crazy after taking a nap.
"What are you laughing at?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"Sorry, it's just…" Jem said, clearly trying and failing to stop laughing. "Your hair is sticking straight up on one side and you have lines all over your face from the pillow."
"Not all of us are graceful sleepers, you know."
"I'm well aware." Jem pointed to a pot on the stove and said, "Can you keep an eye on that? Don't stir it, just make sure it doesn't boil over." He took one last look at Will's new hairdo and then turned back to the vegetables he was cutting up.
Out of all the jobs in the kitchen, that was the one that Jem wouldn't let him do, not since an incident two weeks ago. Will had accidentally nicked himself while slicing something. The cut itself wasn't bad at all and only required a band-aid, but it was the aftermath instead that was the problem. Neither of them wanted a repeat of that, so Will was assigned all the jobs in the kitchen that didn't require a sharp object.
"What even is this?" Will asked. The brown whatever it was in the pot didn't look edible, but if Jem was making it for dinner, it had to be.
"It's brown rice. It's supposed to be good for energy."
"I think I have quite enough energy for now."
Jem came over to the stove with the cutting board full of vegetables and put them into the empty pan that was there. "If it helps you feel a bit better about eating it, I'm not the one who chose it."
Jem didn't specify who he was talking about, but he didn't have to. Will knew exactly what and who he meant by that, and he knew he didn't have much of a choice on whether or not he was going to eat it.
"What, no chicken nuggets and chocolate shake?" Will asked.
Jem laughed and shook his head. "No, not today. That was a special occasion."
"Maybe next week then?"
"If it gets you to actually like going to therapy, then I might consider it," Jem joked as he stirred the vegetables.
"Like Pavlov, but with a human instead of a dog and McDonalds instead of dog food."
.
After dinner was finished and cleaned up, Jem claimed he had some work things to do and that he would come to bed in a few hours. Will didn't see anything wrong with that because he brushed his teeth and got into bed with no questions. Jem, true to his word, did actually do some things for work, but as soon as he could hear Will snoring through the cracked-open door of his office, he opened the drawer and pulled out the stack that had been smuggled there while Will was in the bathroom earlier.
Even just the first page of the top pamphlet was somewhat overwhelming to look at, and he didn't even have PTSD. It had causes of PTSD, symptoms, and even different treatments for it all crammed onto one 5x8 page. There were at least ten different pamphlets or information sheets in the stack, and if all of them were like that, he was going to be here for a while.
Before he got started, though, Jem got up to make sure Will was actually asleep and check to see if there was a light on in the bedroom. He didn't want a repeat of what had happened the night before, and Will apparently had the same idea because the lamp on his bedside table was on. Jem quietly closed the door but didn't pull it closed all the way just in case. He did the same with his office door too before sitting down at his desk and opening a new Excel document.
He was originally planning on just typing everything into a Word document, but Excel would make it easier to organize and put everything under the right label. He made columns for symptoms, treatment options, and an "Other" column for anything that didn't quite fit under the other two labels. Then, with one last check to make sure he didn't hear anything other than snores, he picked up the first pamphlet and got started.