"Hey."

A voice tore him from unconsciousness, rendering him disoriented. He tried to lift his head off the table, but it was too heavy.

"Get the fuck up dude."

Someone forcibly raised his head, bright lights burned his eyes. Squinting, he let out a groan before swinging pathetically at the stranger. His head hurt. It was too bright. It was so fucking loud. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a fetal position and hide.

"What the hell are you doing? My sister invites you to this damn party and you just get fuckin' black out drunk in her kitchen? God."

Bennett.

That asshole.

Opening his eyes met him with a unpleasant sight, the large man towered over him with a disgusted expression. Too close. He was too close. He could smell that bastard's scent. It would only take minutes for him to contaminate him.

"Get…the fuck away from me." Sheldon said as he, once again, tried to push Bennett away. He didn't even budge. "You're gonna get your…stink on me…" Talking drained what little energy he had, he could feel the world slipping from his grasp.

"You're pathetic, you know that?"

Normally, an insult like that was easily brushed off, but now? It stung. It felt as if someone had landed a deep blow into his gut.

"I said…fuck off-" just as he finished, his stomach lurched. Too much alcohol. Again.

He grasped at the countertop with sweaty palms and grimaced. "J-just go. Leave me alone…" he managed to choke out before erupting into coughs.

"Come on." Bennett said before tightly grabbing Sheldon by the arm and pulling him to his feet. "You're not doing that here. I ain't cleaning it up."

The next half an hour was in snapshots, first he was being dragged to the bathroom, then he was on the floor in a cold sweat. Most of his memories were a blur, but he could remember how the bile burned his throat and how his muscles painfully clenched and spasmed. Soon, he was reduced to nothing but a shivering pile on the cold, hard tile.

He could feel a pair of eyes judge him from the corner. Bennett had been observing him, arms crossed. Sheldon waited for him to speak, yet the faux-blonde man said nothing. He was judging him, he knew he was. Why else would he be staring like that?

"…Fuck you." Sheldon muttered as he closed his eyes to block the harsh bathroom light. There was a cold silence between them until Bennett finally spoke.

"You know people can really take advantage of you when you're like that, right?"

Sheldon so badly wanted to respond, but no words would form in his mouth. He was so tired. No point. Just let the idiot talk.

"I know Cecilia's friends are good people but…you never know if someone is going to do somethin' while you're out of it."

"How would you know that?" He spat. Who did Bennett think he was? Looking down on him in this state, feeling the need to reprimand him. He was already a sweat-soaked stain on his crush's bathroom floor, hadn't he had enough belittling?

However, Sheldon soon regretted his outburst. It was barely noticeable, yet he could see it; the flash of hurt in Bennett's eyes.

"…I would know." Bennett calmly said, the harshness of his voice replaced by a somber tone. Through his drunken stupor, he could clearly tell he had struck a nerve. "Just…be more careful, ok?"

Again, silence filled the room. Distant chattering and laughing were muffled by the bathroom door. The anger he had once felt raging in his chest began to dissipate. He was vulnerable and alone, there was no point fighting back. Bennett wasn't scolding him because they disliked each other, he was doing it to protect him. The nausea crept back in. He felt sick again. Lulling over what to say in his swimming mind, he grabbed onto the bathtub and pulled himself upright.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" Bennett's question cut through the silence like a knife. A valid question, not even Sheldon knew the true answer.

"I don't want to feel anything."

Sheldon waited for a response, yet none came. Looking at Bennett for a sign of a reaction revealed nothing. He merely stood there, as if beckoning Sheldon to continue, for he was listening. At least, that's what he thought. The alcohol always loosened his tongue.

"I just want to go to sleep. I'm tired of trying."

Sheldon felt his throat tighten. He felt light-headed. It was probably the anemia.

"What's the point?"

A burning pain ached in his chest and head. He debated on whether or not the words should come out of his mouth.

"I'm just waiting for the damn cancer to come back anyway so I can just…fucking siphon all my dads money again. I hope it kill me this time."

Silence.

"It should've killed me earlier so then I wouldn't have to be here anymore."

He couldn't stop the tears from running down his cheek in time. Nobody was ever supposed to see him like this.

"Damnit." He finished with a curse before letting his head loll back and eyes close. Everything was fuzzy. He wanted nothing more than to get out of this conversation.

Long, grueling minutes passed before Bennett eventually responded.

"Cecilia cares about you a lot. I know you probably hear that a lot and it means nothin' , but she does."

Bennett paused, seeming to ponder the right words to say.

"Sometimes…she comes home cryin' and I ask what's wrong, you know what she says? 'Im worried about Sheldon.' Always about you. I caught her at night fuckin' cryin' about you."

Sheldon opened his eyes when he heard Bennett walking towards him, a sour and pained expression on his face.

"At first I wanted to beat the shit outta you for it, but…I get it. It's tough. It's probably only going to get tougher, life has a way of absolutely fuckin' you over. The world isn't fair. It's easy to just want to drown it out and to give up."

Bennetts face softened.

"But you're not alone, ok? There's people out there willin' to help, you just have to take the step to ask. I know it's hard and embarrassin' but…nobody knows what you're goin' through unless you tell them."

When he finished, he let out a sigh and stepped back, his face returning to its original disgust.

"Now clean yourself up, I'm taking you to the guest room. You're not driving home like that."

Sheldon was dumbfounded, for this was the first time he had ever had a conversation with Bennett that hadn't been an argument. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know he actually cared. Pressure was slowly building up inside his head and soon it hurt to hold it back. A quiet sob escaped his lips. He didn't care anymore. The facade was over, It didn't matter who saw him like this. Eventually, his soft crying turned to hiccups and bawling.

It had been so long since he had cried in front of someone. The only time he could recall was when he found out the tumor in his leg was malignant. His breath painfully hitched with each whimper, his eyes burned.

He was so tired.