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the scary thoughts (are spreading like a weed)

Summary:

Loneliness is the monster that sleeps under Charlie’s bed. It hides behind the closet door and deep within each crevice of his room. And on days like this, it comes out to live inside him. To suffocate him. It seeps in through his pores and settles deep within his bones. It itches under his skin and wraps around his organs.

Or: Charlie stays home from school alone one day in the months before he goes to hospital. He's lonely before the Spring siblings come to the rescue.

Notes:

CW/TW: mentions of suicidal ideation, references to depression, brief reference to a canonical eating disorder (no specific calories, weights, or mealtimes described)

There's really nothing graphic but please use your best judgement to keep yourself safe! If you think I missed any content warnings, please let me know in the comments.

Also please note, the way Charlie views his own mental health is distorted. He mentions feeling like he's "not depressed just sad" and that he's "lazy" or just not as good at coping as others. I in no way think Charlie or anyone in similar shoes to him is lazy; however, he does view himself as such in this fic. (And yes, maybe I am projecting a bit on Charlie Spring).

You are not lazy just because you are struggling. Anyone struggling deserves support, and I hope anyone reading gets the love and support they deserve. I hope you enjoy the fic. Please let me know what you think in the comments!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Charlie wakes up to his alarm on Tuesday morning and immediately knows it’s another one of those days. Another day where he simply cannot, will not, get out of bed. It feels as if the universe is weighing him down.

One night, tears streaming down his face, Charlie turned to Google desperate to figure out what the hell was wrong with him. He searched “why can’t i get out of bed” and was met with pages of self help blogs and “am I depressed” quizzes.

He recalls simply shutting off the device and rolling over. Charlie Spring is not depressed. He can’t be. No, he’s just sad.

Surely everyone feels this way sometimes. The only difference is that Charlie is lazy. While the rest of the population get up out of bed each day, Charlie stays buried beneath the covers because he’s weak, a burden.

And Charlie knows this. Just like he knows he needs to get up soon or else he’ll miss the bus to school. Knows he has an important Maths test Friday so he ought to go to school if he wants to get a good mark. But he can’t.

It’s not until he’s missed his third alarm that there’s an angry knock on the door. “Charlie if I open this door and you’re not out of bed yet, you’re in so much trouble I-” Jane Spring cries through the wood.

Charlie doesn’t turn around in bed. Doesn’t move a muscle. Doesn’t want to. Won’t. Can’t. I can’t, Mum.

Clearly distraught by his lack of response, Jane barges into her oldest son’s room. She takes one look at him and tsks, “Charlie. We’ve talked about this. You can’t be staying home from school every other day. Think about your marks. About your future. Do you think kids who really care about their futures lay around in bed all day?”

They have the same argument every time Charlie asks to stay off school. Does it really count as an argument if it’s mostly one sided? Charlie rarely responds. He finds he can’t.

What he wants to tell his mum is that no, he doesn’t think kids who care about their futures lay around in bed all day. Because Charlie’s found that when he feels like this, he really doesn’t care about his future. He could suffocate under the duvet and blankets and wouldn’t care. It actually scares him quite a bit how much he’d prefer death come knocking on his bedroom door on a day like this as opposed to his mother.

She’s found her way to his bedside, kneeling beside the metal frame. Charlie hears her breathe in deeply. Hears her sigh. Can only imagine she’s wishing for a better child. One she doesn't have to beg to go to school each day. One who gets up after one alarm.

“Charlie, are you listening to me? I really can’t stay home with you. You know this. I need you to get up before you’re late to school. Please.”

“Mum, I can’t.” He tries desperately to stress the words. To somehow convey just how seriously he means them. It’s only then that Charlie, eyes welling with tears, turns to face his mother. He wishes she’d hold him. And he hates himself for wanting that, why would his mum hold him when all he’s been his whole life is a disappointment?

But it’s been so long since he’s been in his mother’s arms. The last time he’d sobbed in front of her was the night of Nick’s birthday, when he’d confessed everything to his parents. That night, his mum just held him. Let him cry. He was stupid for thinking that maybe she understood. That maybe she’d be a bit easier on him.

But here they are. His mum may be inches away but it feels like there’s a whole galaxy between them. Keeping him from reaching out. Keeping her from understanding.

Please, Mum. Help me. I can’t do this much longer. Why can’t I get out of bed?

I’m scared. Mum, I’m so scared.

He’s pleading with her to understand but can’t find the words to explain what is wrong with him. Because what even is wrong with him?

“If I call you out of school today, you’re going every other day this week, and that’s final.”

She waits for him to respond. He hardly does when it gets like this. When the clouds darken. But she always waits. She’s always hated being given the cold shoulder. Always insists upon her kids responding. But every time he finally grasps the words to answer, her patience wears thin.

“I’ve got important meetings all day. I cannot possibly miss work, it’s far too important.”

All Charlie hears is you’re not important enough. And for once, he agrees with his mother.

“I’ve already packed your lunch for school. You’ll have cereal for breakfast, and then you’ll have the lunch I had packed.”

She speaks this as a command, but they both know he won’t be eating today. Maybe she thinks she can speak him eating into existence. Realistically, Charlie probably won’t even find the energy to make it downstairs to throw away the evidence.

Deep down, a twisted part of him thinks she doesn’t really care if he eats or not. As long as she’s put in the effort to make him food, she’s fulfilled her duties as a mother. If she demands he eat three meals a day, she cannot possibly be at fault for him fasting for hours on end.

“Do you need anything from me before I go?”

Again, she waits. Ten, twenty, thirty seconds. And then she’s off. Standing up with a start and walking briskly out the door.

“Stay, please stay,” he mutters, but it’s too late. She’s already out the door.

~~~

It’s minutes, maybe even hours– hell Charlie doesn’t know– after his mum has left, and the loneliness really starts to set in.

Loneliness is the monster that sleeps under Charlie’s bed. It hides behind the closet door and deep within each crevice of his room. And on days like this, it comes out to live inside him. To suffocate him. It seeps in through his pores and settles deep within his bones. It itches under his skin and wraps around his organs.

Charlie doesn’t want to be alone. He feels so alone these days. And look, he knows it’s his fault. Knows that if he could be bothered to glance at his phone, the screen would be flooded with messages of concern from his friends, from Nick.

But he can’t take their concern. He feels like enough of a burden already. Because as much as he knows they miss him and hope he’s okay, he knows they wouldn’t have to be concerned if they had never met him. They wouldn’t have to worry so much if he was fucking normal. But he’s not. Can’t be. Hell, he can’t even quell their worries by taking two minutes to answer their messages.

And it aches. It aches knowing his beautiful, lovely, too good for this world boyfriend is worried about him. Because he shouldn’t be. He should be living his life, unbothered. Unburdened by Charlie and his inability to get out of bed.

So he weeps. Overwhelmed and lonely and so fucking sad, Charlie buries his head into his stuffed plush Kitty, and sobs.

~~~

Eventually he must fall asleep. A temporary reprieve from the aching in his chest. It’s funny how exhausted he still feels when he has literally not lifted his head off his pillow.

Like this morning, Charlie’s brought out of his own thoughts by a knock on his bedroom door. Unlike his mother’s, this one’s soft, gentle.

It’s this fact alone that spurs Charlie to gather the energy to respond: “Come in.”

The words are small. About as small as he feels today. He utters them like a whisper, a slight rasp in his voice probably due to his prior crying, but whoever’s behind the door hears nonetheless.

It takes a moment, but then the wooden door creaks open. Another moment and then Olly is bolting into the dark, empty room and jumping onto Charlie’s bed.

“Charlie! I’ve missed you. Tori says you're sick but that if I’m nice and calm we could come say hi.”

As if summoned by the much too loud seven year old, Tori pokes her head into the doorway. “I hope you’re up for company. I really couldn’t keep him away for much longer. Speaking of which, Oliver, what about you running in here was calm?”

And for the first time that day, Charlie feels the loneliness lessen. Can feel it loosen the hold on his heart. He even feels himself start to smile at his siblings’ antics.

“He’s okay, Victoria. Thank you though.” With that, Charlie turns his full attention to his brother, “I missed you too, Ol.” And oh does he mean it.

Olly beams at that, wriggling around trying to get comfortable on Charlie’s single bed. Charlie doesn’t help that venture as he reaches out to tickle his brother, making Oliver squirm even more.

“Wow,” Tori deadpans, “I forgot my brothers were complete animals.”

Charlie pauses their tickle fight to turn to his sister. He knows he’s not imagining it as he sees a slight smile grace her face.

“Well, care to join us? Or would you rather keep watching from the doorway?”

With that she makes her way over, granted much more slowly than Olly did. “Spring sibling cuddle pile?” she questions.

“Yeah,” Charlie mutters as he feels the loneliness ebb out of his body, grateful for the reprieve from its harsh grasp, “Spring sibling cuddle pile.”

Notes:

Thanks for reading <3