“I’m here,” I whisper, picking their head up off the floor and laying it on my lap.
“I didn’t lose you?” they ask, looking at me as if I were an angel sent to them straight from heaven.
“You didn’t lose me,” I confirm. “I won’t leave you alone in this. I promise.”
Their eyes leak as they speak. “I made you promises too, and I broke them. I promised my demons wouldn’t hurt you. But they did.Idid.”
“You did the best you could, Phantom. That’s all we can do.” I wipe the paint-soaked hair off their forehead.
“All we can do,” they repeat slowly, dropping their gaze from mine. “It’s not enough.”
I have no response to that, so we sit in the puddle of paint in silence. I find strength in their steady, calm breaths.
“Can you stand?” I ask after a while.
Phantom nods.
“Good, come on. We need to shower and clean this place up.”
Phantom follows my lead. I help them stand, undress to their underwear, and climb into the shower in the bathroom connected to their studio. Worried how they would react if I tried to remove it, I leave their face mask in place too. I climb into the shower after them, fully clothed, and help them wash the paint from their hair and skin. Once I’m satisfied I’ve removed it all, I have them change into a fresh pair of sweats I found in a small wooden dresser, and tip-toe around the paint to their bed. I tuck them into the soft bedding and look around the room, assessing the mess.
Phantom rolls toward the wall when I fling the curtains open and I frown at them. They’re clearly in a depressive episode. I need to stay and make sure they at least drink and eat something. I can do that. They’re no threat to me like this.
I go back out into the hallway and return with a mop and bucket. It takes me over an hour to mop up all the paint from the floor, but when I’m finished, Phantom is sleeping soundly, and I’m disgusting, covered in a nasty mixture of paint and sweat. I consider going back to my dorm to shower and change, but myanxiety stops me. It’s way too far away. I’ll just shower here and wear some of Phantom’s clothes.
When I’m clean and changed, I step out of the bathroom to find Phantom staring at me. They’ve changed their mask, replacing the stained one for a fresh, clean one.
“Maeve.” My name is a whisper.
“Hi,” I say, trying, and probably failing, to smile at them.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I shake my head. “I’m not leaving.”
They swallow hard and turn their face away from me.
“Is it Echo?” I ask gently, moving toward the bed.
They nod.
“What are they saying?”
“That I’m going to hurt you some more... because I’m toxic, and I poison everything.”
“Well,” I say as I climb onto the bed. They look shocked, eyes thrown wide as I crawl toward them. “You can tell Echo that I say they can royally fuck off.” I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
“What?”
“Never mind,” I say, abandoning that tactic and switching to another. “You’re not toxic, Phantom. No matter what Echo says. You’re just sick, and need help getting better. Show me someone who doesn’t need help recovering from an illness at some point in their life, and I’ll show you a unicorn.”
“Why are you being like this?” Phantom asks, their gaze empty.
“Like what?”
They shrug against their pillow. “Normal.”
A sharp pang burns the back of my throat. “I was angry and scared earlier, I’ll be honest. But I’m not anymore. I want to help you.”
