Chapter two

Over the next few days it had grown increasingly clear that Davy's depression had worsened since he returned home. He had become moody and kept to himself a lot. His emotions were on high and it was always possible for him to start crying or snap at someone at any moment.

This wasn't the only change in his depression. Davy had begun to spend more time hanging around the kitchen. During meals he would take more food than what he would normally eat and he would often take second or occasionally third helpings. Deserts were also doubled and he increased his snacking throughout the day.

It was hard for the other guys to ignore these changes in Davy. They stood back and watched as Davy ate… and ate because they were all unsure of how to handle it. They watched him sadly and baffled over what to do. Words failed them whenever they wanted to speak to Davy about it. As it was, they weren't even sure if they should speak to him or let it run its course.

Micky watched as Davy scooped ice cream into a bowl. The mound of ice cream grew quite large and overfilled the bowl. Davy sat the scooper aside and grabbed the can of chocolate syrup, Micky continued to watch as Davy poured chocolate syrup over every visible spot of ice cream. Unable to take it anymore, Micky stepped closer to Davy.

"Are you really serious about that, Davy? It looks like an awful lot."

Davy shrugged indifferently "So it's a lot. There's still some left here."

"But you just finished eating lunch. A really, really big lunch."

"You ate a lot at lunch too. So what?"

"I may have eaten a lot but not as much as you. And I certainly didn't top it off with enough ice cream to feed an entire army. You're going to make yourself sick eating all that."

With a spoon in his mouth, Davy rolled his eyes. He stuck the spoon into the ice cream. "You're not my mother." He picked up the bowl and started walking away.

"I'm not your mother but I still care about you!" Micky called after him. He sighed, knowing it was pointless to argue with Davy.

Davy entered the bedroom and sat on his bed with his overfilled ice cream bowl in his hands. He knew that Micky was right. But the amount of food he was eating wasn't a bother to him. He knew he'd wind up getting sick from eating all of it but that wasn't going to stop him. In fact, he welcomed it. He welcomed the coming misery because it was what he felt he deserved.

Taking a bite of ice cream he leaned back against the headboard. He sighed and stared into his heaping bowl. Thoughts started coming to him. Terrible, miserable thoughts. Tears formed in his eyes as he slowly ate. Not caring about the tears, he let them roll down his face towards the bowl. He let out a heavy sigh and his thoughts turned to his time spent in the hospital.

For several hours Davy lay in his bed, much of that time was spent with him curled up and crying. He had been struggling for the past couple days with fighting against his suicidal thoughts and this was the absolute hardest fight he ever fought. Today it seemed much worse. He had become emotionally drained and since he was too emotional to eat, he had missed lunch. At one point he had asked to talk to his doctor about everything he was feeling, but this did little to ease his suffering. The suicidal thoughts remained and they had weakened him severely.

At this point during the day, after missing lunch and crying in bed for a long time, Davy was weak and exhausted. He was also finally hungry. However, it was not time for dinner, which upset him more. Mustering enough strength, he pushed himself into seated position. He felt a little dizzy at first but he pushed past it and got out of bed. He could see his usual nurse just outside his room, so he walked over to the door. After clearing his throat, he called her name.

She denied him at first when he asked her if he could have dinner early. He started working on her, playing to her sympathies, and even looked at her with his saddest (and quite puffy and red from crying) puppy eyes. This got to her and she escorted him to the cafeteria where they both had dinner. Normally a nurse wouldn't eat with a patient. Normally patients wouldn't eat in the staff cafeteria. But this time was, as she said it, a special occasion. Davy knew she'd probably get in trouble for this but he was glad that someone cared enough for him right then to give him special treatment.

Davy sat across from his nurse, staring sadly into his food. He sighed and moved his fork through the food. His picking was unintentional, especially since he was so hungry, but his mind was still bogged down with a million thoughts that he couldn't escape. He looked up and saw her looking at him with her head tilted, as though she was studying him.

"Davy you're not eating. I brought you here special because you convinced me of how hungry you were."

He sighed "I know, Cheryl. I'm sorry." He stabbed his fork into his food and took a bite.

She nodded "You have a lot on your mind. It's okay." She touched Davy's free hand. "You can talk to me."

He took another bite "I don't know if I'm up to talking right now."

She studied him a little bit more, watching his mannerisms while he was eating. He appeared lost in thought but at the same time he was mindlessly eating. Mindlessly shoveling forkful after forkful into his mouth when just moments ago he was picking at it. Davy finished his dinner and sat back with a sigh. He glanced at his nurse and she grinned back at him.

"Davy I have something for you."

"Oh really? What is it?" He asked with a bit of confusion.

"Just wait here."

She stood and walked to the kitchen window. Moments later she returned to the table with two cupcakes. She took one for herself and slid the other across the table before placing it in front of Davy.

"Thought I'd try to do something to help cheer you up. I know it's not much, but it's something." She grinned slightly.

Davy looked at the cupcake and a small grin came to his lips. He felt touched that she would do this for him, just to cheer him up. He picked up the cupcake and his grin grew, both in size and in how genuine it was.

"Thanks Cheryl." He began unwrapping the cupcake.

"There's that smile I like to see."

He felt his cheeks fill with a red tint and he took a bite. Surprisingly, though a small gesture, this cupcake did help him cheer up a bit. It gave him a little bit of comfort as he ate it, because of the meaning behind it. This gesture to him showed that someone in the hospital truly cared about him and not just for medical reasons. It let him realize that he just might matter to somebody, even if it was a little bit.

Coming out of his memory, Davy looked down into his bowl. Much to his disgust, it was empty. He groaned and paced a hand on his stomach, feeling sick and miserable. Not wanting to move, he sat there in his misery and thought about how much he deserved it. He deserved to feel that miserable since he couldn't make anyone happy. He couldn't be happy.

The ice cream hadn't made him feel better at all. He didn't get any kind of comfort while eating it like the cupcake from Nurse Cheryl had. Thinking about that made him feel so much worse. Even though he already knew that food wasn't the best thing to turn to for comfort, he still chose to eat anyway. He ate because, if not comfort he needed to feel something. Misery was what it made him feel and now he was wallowing in it. There was, after all, nothing better for him to feel in that moment.

After sitting there for a few moments, Davy felt well enough to get up. He groaned and grabbed his bowl before walking out to the kitchen. When he got there, three pairs of troubled eyes met him. He did his best to ignore them as he sat his bowl in the sink. He knew the guys were going to talk to him. And he knew what they wanted to talk about. Other than going back into the bedroom, he didn't have much of a choice but let them talk.

Micky looked at him and gave a small nod. An "I told you so" smirk ran across his lips. "Look at you, Davy. Didn't I say you'd get sick from eating all that?"

Davy sighed not in the mood for listening to Micky's smugness. "Bugger off, Micky." He grumbled

"Now, you did this to yourself, Davy." Mike said "Don't take it out on him."

Davy scowled and looked as though he was trying to come up with the best reply, only to fail with his words. "Fuck you!" He held his stomach and groaned.

"Davy…" Peter sighed, showing the most sympathy. "We've just been concerned about you. You've been eating a lot lately. And you've been moody ever since you came home from the hospital. What's going on with you, Davy?"

Davy sighed "There's nothing wrong with me or how I've been eating. And everyone should just leave me alone." He groaned again.

Mike frowned. "If you're feeling sick then go lie down."

"Or sit in the bathroom." Micky snorted with disdain.

"You guys can just fuck off and stop worrying about me!" He stormed off, heading to the bedroom.

Slamming the door behind him, and leaving the other three guys stunned, Davy hurried over to his bed and flopped onto it. He buried his face into his pillow and started crying. A world of sorrow crashed down upon him as he thought about his encounter with his friends. It hurt him to know how concerned they were about him because that meant they weren't happy. Making anyone happy again seemed impossible. He began cursing himself and gripped the pillow as he cried. This wasn't the worst he felt since the start of his depression but he had felt better than this. Either way, he already could tell things were going to get much worse before they could improve.