Jay

Matt yawned as he stirred. He instinctively reached to his right, hand searching for the warmth that should be next to him. He mumbled "Marc?" when his hand met empty sheets. The coolness of the sheets suggested Marc had been gone for a while. Matt checked the time from his alarm clock. Five-thirty in the morning, much too early for Marc to be awake. Matt waited a long while for Marc to come back to bed, but when he heard the coffee machine running, Matt became certain Marc wouldn't be rejoining him.

Matt dozed off for another hour, his body telling him he needed more rest. When he woke up fully, he needed the bathroom. He climbed out of bed, forgetting that Marc wasn't there. He took care of his business and had a drink of water. The smell of burnt coffee washed over him as he exited the bathroom. Matt frowned, it was still too early in the morning for coffee to have been made, much less left for too long. Matt yawned as he made his way to the kitchenette. His radar sense caught an incredibly slow heartbeat coming from the table Steven had persuaded him to put in front of the window. Almost slow enough to be deadly.

"Marc? Are you alright?" Matt approached the table, his radar picking up the fact that Marc had his hands wrapped around a completely cooled coffee mug. Marc didn't answer. Matt put a hand on Marc's shoulder, his fingers pressing into his shoulder blades. Marc didn't so much as twitch. Unease grew in Matt's chest, and he shook Marc's shoulder, harder than necessary. Marc's coffee swished in the cup and spilled out, over Marc's knuckles. "Marc?"

Marc still didn't move. Matt tried to not get too stressed about it. Marc was probably was just lost in thought. He tried to put Marc's odd behaviour out of his mind as he got ready for his day. He had court and reminded Marc of that on his way out the door.

Marc stayed sitting stock-still, the coffee congealing in his mug. The coffee that had spilled earlier dried on his hand. He couldn't bring himself to do anything else. Not until eleven o'clock, when he felt it was lunch time. Marc dragged himself out of the chair and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. He pulled bread out of the bag, tomatoes, lettuce, and cheese from the fridge. They had deli meat, but Marc wasn't interested in it. He made a sandwich, put the leftover ingredients back in the fridge and returned to his seat. He put the sandwich down next to his coffee. He couldn't bring himself to eat it. The thought of putting anything in his mouth made him want to gag. He couldn't explain why he'd bothered to make a sandwich at all beyond feeling like he was supposed to. There wasn't anyone around to make him eat, there was no one to perform for. Marc should have not bothered to make a sandwich at all. He knew he shouldn't have because it would just go to waste. He couldn't stop himself from making it though and he couldn't force himself to eat it.

Matt forgot about Marc's odd behaviour from the morning until he returned home at half past one in the morning. The smell of stale bread, and warm cheese assaulted his nose. Matt wrinkled his nose as he made his way to the kitchen. His brows knit in worry when he realized Marc was still sitting where he'd left him this morning. "Marc?"

Still no response from Marc. Matt frowned and stepped right next to Marc, his hand brushing against his shoulder. Marc briefly tensed up, acknowledging the touch but not responding to it. Matt reached over Marc's shoulder to pick up the plate and sandwich, bringing it to the garbage. He tossed the sandwich and put the plate in the sink. He cleaned up the coffee pot from the morning and dumped the congealed coffee down the drain. Matt took the coffee mug that Marc's fingers were still curled around and put it with the rest of the dishes. He wiped the table and Marc's hand, cleaning the coffee. He then washed the dishes and set them on the rack to dry.

When he finished with the dishes, Matt returned to Marc. "Marc, I… I'm going out. Are you coming with me?"

Marc gave a slight shake of his head. Barely a twitch of his head, something even Matt could barely pick up.

"Okay. Stay…safe."

Several hours later Matt came home, covered in sweat and exhausted. He was looking forward to curling up next to Marc and falling asleep. He needed to clean up, but it was far too late in the night to start a shower. He'd just change his clothes into pajamas and collapse. The shower could wait until the morning. Matt yawned as he entered the main area of his apartment. Marc's figure was still hunched over the table where Matt had left him and Matt grew worried about him. Matt approached Marc and put his hand on Marc's shoulder. Marc tensed and Matt took that as a good sign.

"Marc, sweetheart, can you come to bed with me?"

Marc's eyes glazed with tears. He forced himself to stand but he couldn't answer Matt. It felt like someone tore his vocal chords out of his throat, leaving him doomed to a life of silence. He could only imagine how hard on Matt that would be. He tried to say something, to tell Matt that he was fine, to tell Matt that this was just something that happened sometimes, but he couldn't. He couldn't make a sound. He knew Matt had to be worried and guilt ran through his veins. Marc reached for Matt's hand, taking it with much less grip strength than usual. Matt frowned, a dozen questions breaking into his mind at once, but he didn't voice any of them. He could ask Marc about it later, but it wasn't the most important problem at the moment. Matt just needed Marc to be okay. He was hoping sleep would shake Marc out of whatever was going through his mind.

"Do you want to put your sleep shorts on?" Matt asked, pulling his mask off.

Marc gave a brief shake of his head.

"Your pajama pants?"

Another slight shake.

Matt took a deep breath. "Just sleep in what you have on?"

Marc wanted to tell Matt how to help, he wanted to just give Matt the answers he was looking for, but he couldn't. Marc shook his head again.

"Then what Marc?" A note of irritation crept into Matt's voice.

A tear slid down Marc's cheek, quietly enough Matt wouldn't catch it. Marc forced himself to strip out of his clothes until he was just in his boxers. He was pretty sure he'd be getting night sweats tonight. Matt listened to Marc's movements, growing slightly relieved at Marc's heartbeat speeding up from what it was before. Marc sounded more alive.

"Okay, boxers it is." Matt nodded and stripped off his suit, putting it back where it belonged. Matt crawled into bed, pulling the sheets back for Marc. Marc dropped into bed next to Matt. He wanted to reach for Matt's hand, to soothe him to whatever degree he could offer, but it was like his muscles had been cut off from his brain. Marc would describe it as feeling like his veins had filled with lead. "Good night Marc."

Marc's dreams were filled with nightmares. Flashes from his time in the military, the things he's done for Khonshu, the lies he's piled up over the years, the difficulties in having dissociative identity disorder. It was a rush of memories, fears, and pains that left Marc feeling sick. Marc desperately wanted to tell Matt about all of it, to confess and feel that relief but every time he tried he stopped. He already had so many issues that Matt had to deal with and Marc couldn't bring himself to add more issues to the pile. Matt also had his own problems to contend with.

Marc jerked awake at five to five in the morning. He tried to go back to sleep, to spare Matt him getting up and moving around, but after ten minutes it became exceptionally clear to Marc that he wasn't going to get to go back to sleep. He got up, quietly as possible, dressed in his clothes from the day before, and left the bedroom. Matt stirred slightly as Marc moved, mumbling something indistinct. Marc couldn't even bring himself to lean down to kiss Matt's brow to soothe him in his sleep. He just left Matt alone in bed. Habit had him making the coffee, like he usually did, wanting to help Matt even just a little. The fact that it was only five o'clock in the morning didn't occur to Marc.

He took his coffee mug and settled at their table, thinking Matt would probably be up soon, and maybe they could talk. Marc would talk to Matt, he just needed Matt to wake up. If Matt just sat there with him then he could explain. Talking would be so easy if Matt were just here. He needed Matt here. Marc didn't go get Matt. He just sat at the table, still as a statue.

Four days went by, each one starting the same way. Matt would find Marc sitting at the table with a mug of coffee that had long since cooled. Matt was growing increasingly concerned. He brought it up with Foggy while at the office on day three of the unsettling pattern.

"Marc is being weird."

"He's always weird Matt, that's his thing," Foggy replied, barely looking up from his notes.

"No, Foggy I'm being serious."

"Okay, so how is he being weird?"

Matt paced in front of Foggy's desk. "He's not sleeping much, he hasn't eaten in a few days, he's not choosing to move on his own. The past couple of days he's gotten up really early, made coffee, and didn't drink it. He's made a few sandwiches and just let them sit in front of him, without touching it. I can't figure out what's going on. He won't talk to me, he hasn't said anything in days. I don't know why he's going through the effort of making coffee or food to then just let it go bad, but then also won't move or leave the apartment."

"Has he showered or anything?"

Matt shrugged, "not for a while, but it's like he's on autopilot. Like he's doing things habitually rather than because he wants to. I don't think he's brushed his teeth in days. I have to drag him to bed."

"Matt…" Foggy paused over his words, wondering how best to say it. "I think Marc might be depressed."

Matt froze in his tracks. He hadn't even considered that as a possibility. "He was fine last week though…"

"You realize depression can be episodic, right?"

Matt shrugged. "I can't say I've thought about it."

Foggy rolled his eyes. "Okay, well you come across as having depressive episodes so I was looking into it and—"

"You think I'm depressed?"

"Mentally healthy people don't do the things you do. But I don't think you're depressed. I was looking into this a while ago anyway. But more recently I was looking into DID, to try and understand Marc a little better. DID can make it more likely that you have other mental health issues or disorders. There could be something else going on with Marc that isn't diagnosed."

"I'm not sure if he's even officially diagnosed with DID. I mean, it's obvious that he has it, but I'm not sure a doctor has ever…diagnosed him."

"I see." Foggy put his papers down and watched as Matt resumed his pacing. "You've tried to get Marc to talk to you?"

"Of course I have. He's not especially responsive to anything I do."

"Try and get him in a new environment. Take him outside. See e if that shakes him out of his funk."

"Okay. Okay. I'll try that, thank you Foggy." Matt never told him, but he always appreciated how rational and level-headed Foggy was about his issues. Matt had learned to appreciate Foggy much more than before when he started having a serious relationship with Marc and started needing advice that Foggy was actually capable of giving. Foggy had plenty of advice about Matt's Daredevil activities (usually, "Matt you need to stop, you're going to die") that Matt couldn't feasibly follow.

"Good luck."

Matt spent a day working out how willing he was to force Marc out of the apartment. When Marc still didn't answer him at the end of day four, Matt resolved himself to push Marc to go outside the next morning. He didn't have to be at the office and having plenty of time would be essential. He wanted to be careful and persuasive, not forceful. Matt pulled Marc to bed, thinking he really should get Marc to brush his teeth if nothing else. The hygiene aspect was important to both of them, although for slightly different reasons, and Matt knew Marc would feel better if he cleaned up. He wasn't sure pressuring Marc would be the best course of action at the moment.

When Marc climbed out of bed at five in the morning, Matt followed suit. He'd woken up every day when Marc climbed out, but tended to fall back asleep. Matt padded nearly silently after Marc, to the coffee pot. When Marc reached for their coffee beans, Matt put his hand over them, stopping Marc. He kept his voice low and quiet when he said, "Marc?"

"Coffee," Marc rasped, his voice hoarse from days without saying a word.

"No sweetheart. No coffee." Matt gently moved Marc's hand away from the bag of beans.

"I need to—" Marc choked out.

"No, not today. We can go out for coffee, to a cafe. We can walk there and sit and drink it."

Marc shook his head. "Don't wanna leave."

"I know, I hear you. But I really think you need to get out of the apartment. A change of scenery would be good for you."

Marc shook his head, avoiding looking at Matt's expression. "Need to…"

"Yes?" Matt gently took Marc's hand.

"Make your coffee."

"No Marc. I don't want coffee."

The rejection had Marc drawing inward, away from Matt. "Fine."

Matt took a deep breath. "Could you shower with me?"

Marc thought that sounded like too much effort. His knees already wanted to drop to his knees and cave in. But Matt was asking, Matt was seeking his company. That's what Marc had wanted, he had wanted Matt to ask what was wrong. "Okay."

"Thank you my love." Matt gently tugged Marc from the kitchen to the bathroom. Marc moved sluggishly but he managed to keep pace with Matt. If Matt was walking at a third of his typical speed for Marc's comfort, no one needed to know.

Once in the bathroom Matt helped Marc pull of his days old clothes, tossing them in the hamper with some relief that the scent would go away soon enough. The built up sweat and coffee smell was starting to make him gag. He'd do some laundry later to clean Marc's clothes and their sheets. Matt pulled off his own clothes, which he'd slept in, and tossed them in the hamper too. Matt reached into the shower and turned it on, letting the temperature warm until it would be comfortable. Matt grabbed Marc's hand again, tugging him to the bathtub and gently nudging him to step in. Marc coughed, trying to dislodge the feeling of something caught in his chest. Matt's hand went to Marc's lower back, keeping him steady. Matt kissed the back of Marc's neck. Matt let Marc stand in front of the water as he reached for the shampoo. Matt carefully washed and rinsed Marc's hair, making sure to keep soap out of Marc's eyes. Matt used Marc's curling conditioner, massaging his scalp a little extra, trying to soothe Marc's mind as much as he could.

"Feel okay Marc?"

Marc gave a curt nod.

Matt rinsed the conditioner out. He knew Marc didn't take proper care if his curls, but Steven liked having them done up properly, which was the only reason they had curl hair care in the apartment at all. Matt was hoping it would help Marc feel more like himself. Matt used Marc's preferred body wash, knowing it was a key part of Marc's scent. Matt used the sponge and scrubbed Marc's body, doing all the work so Marc just needed to stand there. Matt gave a relieved sigh when the sweat based, human scent faded from Marc's skin. He would just have to handle Marc's teeth. Matt gently nudged Marc out of the way so he could wash himself as quickly as possible.

When Matt had himself clean, he helped Marc out of the tub and grabbed a towel. He dried Marc off first, noting that Marc was still barely moving. Matt was quick with Marc's body but took his time with Marc's hair, carefully drying the hair and massaging Marc's scalp. He suspected Marc would need a shave as well. Matt dried himself off before instructing Marc, "will you sit on the toilet?"

"I don't need to go," Marc mumbled.

"I know. I think you should, when was the last time you did?"

Marc shrugged. "No idea."

"Okay, maybe later. I just need you to sit." Matt wrapped a towel around Marc's waist. Marc figured sitting would be easier than standing, so he sank onto the closed toilet lid. His shoulders hunched and he leaned over, his elbows resting on his knees. Matt reached into the cabinet, searching for Steven's curling cream. Steven hated the frizz his curls had if they weren't taken care of. Matt wasn't sure how much he was supposed to use, so he only squeezed a tiny bit out of the bottle. He ran it between his hands and then threaded the cream through Marc's hair, scrunching his hair in the way Steven had described. Matt washed his hands and pulled out the blow dryer. He never used it himself, but again, Steven liked having it around. Matt dried Marc's hair, knowing leaving it to air dry would cause frizz. Marc had to admit, having someone else deal with the self care and hygiene was feeling pretty good.

"Doing okay?" Matt asked.

Marc nodded. He attempted to thank Matt, but couldn't get the words out. Matt offered his hand to Marc, who didn't take it.

"Can we brush your teeth now?"

Marc sighed. He could make himself do it. For Matt he could force himself to brush his teeth. It finally clicked to Marc that his breath must smell awful to Matt. Guilt rolled through his stomach, making him sick with how much he's been hurting Matt recently. Tears blurred his vision of Matt grabbing his tooth brush. Matt put toothpaste on the brush and turned back to Marc, leaning down slightly.

"Can you open for me?"

The question didn't make sense to Marc. Why would he open? But Matt was asking. Matt, who he'd ignored for days, Matt who was taking care of him, Matt who loved him despite everything. Marc's lips parted, whether to fill Matt's request or to protest Marc didn't know. He didn't get to figure it out though, because Matt pushed the toothbrush into his mouth. Matt focused hard as he brushed Marc's teeth, trying not to hurt his boyfriend. Marc kept his tears to himself. Matt only spoke to direct Marc to spit into a cup. When he was finished, Matt filled a new cup with water and instructed Marc to rinse his mouth out. "Think you can do some mouthwash?"

Marc gave a reluctant nod. He could do it, but the thought of having the sterile minty taste in his mouth made him want to vomit. The toothpaste was less intense, meaning he could handle it. Matt filled the small cup that came with the bottle with mouthwash and held it out to Marc. Marc's hand shook as he reached for it. Matt's hand closed around Marc to hold Marc steady as Marc sipped the mouthwash, wincing at the taste. Marc swished the mouthwash around until Matt held the spit cup back in front of his face. Marc was grateful to spit it out.

"Feel better?" Matt asked, dumping the spit cup down the drain.

"A little."

"I'll take a little. Do you want a shave?"

He really didn't. Not at the moment anyway. Maybe tomorrow. So he whispered, "no."

"Okay. Ready to get dressed?"

"Alright." Marc wasn't excited at the thought of putting clothes on, certain the sensation of fabric rubbing against his skin would make the whole situation worse, but he didn't figure he could stay naked all day. Matt had said something about leaving the apartment, hadn't he? Marc couldn't very well follow Matt out of the apartment in a towel. Marc allowed Matt to take his hand and pull him from the humid air of the bathroom. Matt was saying something but Marc couldn't hear him. He couldn't focus on what Matt was saying. He dropped onto the bed, managing to sit upright. Matt was… showing him something? Marc didn't know. He just nodded. Marc felt like someone else had control of his body as Matt helped him get dressed. Maybe Steven or Jake was being helpful by taking just enough control to make him presentable.

Marc found himself dressed in linen. Drawstring pants and a button down shirt over his most comfortable boxer briefs and ankle socks, the kind without seams. Perhaps his most comfortable clothes. He wondered how Matt knew this was what he needed. Guardian angel, Marc thought absently as he watched Matt get dressed. Matt rarely deviated from his well cut pants and button downs, even when he wasn't getting dressed for work. Today's Matt outfit was charcoal grey pants and a light grey long sleeve button down. Marc vaguely wondered how Matt knew what clothes went together and what didn't. Had to be one of his hidden talents. Marc smiled a little when Matt put his red glasses on, thinking his boyfriend looked hot. His attraction to Matt seemed to be at the very least changing the way his brain was working. Maybe that wasn't a bad thing. Maybe that could be what brought him back to normal. Matt completed his outfit by clipping his watch around his wrist.

Matt held out his hand again and Marc took it, entwining his fingers with Matt's. "Hey gorgeous," Marc murmured.

Matt smiled, looping his free arm around Marc's waist. "Love you."

Some of the pressure in Marc's chest eased a fraction. Matt's attentiveness reminded him he wasn't alone. He wasn't dealing with everything by himself. Marc reached out, his hand slipping under Matt's collar and running his fingers along the ankh necklace Matt always wore. "Love you."

Matt held Marc's hand against his chest for a moment. "Let's get breakfast."

A weight pressed against Marc's stomach. He wasn't sure he wanted to eat. He wasn't sure he could. "Matt…"

"Let's go for a walk at least. We'll walk to a cafe and I can get my coffee and if you really don't feel like having anything you don't have to."

Marc nodded. If Matt wouldn't force him to eat then maybe he could go out. He could get some fresh air. Matt kept his fingers entangled with Marc's as they made their way out of the apartment, Matt forgoing bringing his cane. He would just rely on Marc, which would hopefully keep Marc on task. Matt leaned slightly into Marc, pressing their shoulders together.

The walk to the nearest cafe was slow. Marc was moving like every step hurt, and Matt figured it had to. Sitting so still for so long had to be getting rough on Marc's muscles. Marc was leaning into Matt just as much as Matt was leaning into him. Marc was being clingy and Matt didn't mind so much. Whatever it took to get Marc feeling like his usual self would be what Matt did. Matt helped Marc into the cafe, directing him to sit while he got his coffee. Matt felt bad about being at the cafe so early, they'd just barely opened, but he wanted Marc out of the apartment as soon as possible. Matt ordered a latte with oat milk and moved off to the side to wait. His drink came quickly and he joined Marc at the table.

Matt listened to Marc's slightly labored breathing as he sipped his latte. He wasn't sure what to do to help Marc. He really should have looked up how to help people with depression before dedicating a day to help Marc feel better. Matt reached for Marc's hand, but Marc pulled it away with an apologetic sound. "Marc?"

"I can't. Please don't touch me."

Matt bit his lower lip but nodded. "Is there a reason why?"

"I…" Marc's heart rate spiked, the smell of cortisol flooding Matt's nose. "My mother."

"Your mother?"

Marc ran his hands over his face. How to explain it? "When I didn't do what she wanted she would… she would… she…" Marc tried to continue but he couldn't. He couldn't make the words come out.

"Did she hit you?" Matt asked, knowing that something like that could be hard to say. He had no idea what that had to do with him, but Marc was trying to tell him something.

Marc nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay. How does that relate to me?"

"I just don't feel right Matt."

Matt sipped his latte. He waited for Marc to continue explaining. Marc's voice was growing stronger and the rasping eased slightly. Matt figured Marc would be helped by having a drink. Maybe he would offer Marc a sip of his latte.

"My mind is all messed up and… old memories come back. I don't like being touched when I get… sick. Mentally sick."

"Okay. Mentally sick. Can I do anything? Is there a way to help?"

Marc shrugged, "I don't know. I feel better than I did yesterday because you made me shower."

"Alright, so if this keeps going, if you have this happens again, I should have you shower?"

"I have no idea what would help," Marc's voice cracked and tears fill his eyes.

"Okay we'll figure it out," Matt promised. He pushed his drink toward Marc. "Have a drink, okay?"

Marc reluctantly took a sip, finding it not to his tastes. He and Matt had rather different coffee tastes, and Marc wasn't too fond of oat milk. Marc's nose wrinkled and he passed the cup back to Matt. "Not a fan."

"Do you want me to get you something else?"

Marc shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

Matt sighed. He finished his latte in silence. Marc was trying to find the motivation to leave. He knew they'd leave as soon as Matt was finished his drink and he was mentally preparing himself to continue walking. He was hoping they would just go home. Matt stood and went to toss the cup in the trash. Marc waited until Matt returned to the table. He stood too, his hand reaching for Matt's on instinct. Maybe he didn't want contact, but he always reached for Matt's hand when they walked. Matt didn't object or question why Marc was touching him after telling him he didn't want contact. Matt figured he just had to let Marc handle things himself.

Marc let Matt drag him along the street until the smell of fresh pastries hit him. He tugged Matt to a stop as he looked in the shop window. He hadn't been hungry in days, but suddenly his stomach rumbled.

"Marc? What is it?" Matt surveyed their surrounding, and supposing Marc was interested in the bakery.

"The donuts look really good," Marc mumbled.

"You want one?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Okay, let's get one." Matt tugged Marc into the bakery and up to the counter. Matt's hand shifted to Marc's lower back as Marc stepped up to survey the menu.

"Could I get the Oreo donut?" Marc whispered, more to Matt than to the cashier.

"Could we get an Oreo donut and a bottle of water please?" Matt asked, speaking to the cashier who nodded. Matt pulled out some cash and handed it over while Marc thanked him for ordering. Matt pressed a kiss to Marc's temple without thinking, forgetting that Marc had requested for no contact. Although Marc leaned into it, suggesting that the affection was okay.

The cashier passed Matt the food and bottle and he thanked her. Matt turned to Marc, "you want to sit?"

"I want to go home."

"You'd rather eat at home?"

"Please."

"Alright. But I want you to drink this while we walk home," Matt pressed the bottle of water into Marc's hand.

Marc unscrewed the cap and took a sip, glad to wash the taste of Matt's latte from his mouth. He was not a fan of oat milk, despite Matt's fondness for it. Marc's mood had improved and he was looking forward to his donut when he got home. Matt put his hands in his pockets and Marc mourned the loss of the warmth at his lower back. He couldn't explain to Matt the way some touch was okay and some wasn't, so he'd just asked Matt to not touch him at all. He wished he could figure out the words to explain and get Matt's contact back. As they stepped out onto the street, Marc grabbed Matt's hand and replaced it at his lower back.

"Marc?"

"Please?" Marc swallowed hard. "Just… please?"

"Okay," Matt agreed. He rubbed his thumb over Marc's spine as he guided Marc back to the apartment. Marc had to admit he was calmed by the action, calmed by Matt's steady presence. His mind didn't feel nearly as fogged over. He was shaking because he was sleep deprived and hungry, but he thought things could improve. He'd start by eating his donut and then maybe he could persuade Matt to have a nap.

Matt had Marc hold the bag with the donut in it while he unlocked the apartment door. Matt pulled Marc to the table, getting Marc situated and opening the bag. The donut was still in perfect condition. Matt pressed a kiss to the top of Marc's head and let him eat. Matt made himself a bagel with cream cheese and everything bagel seasoning. When Matt had his own breakfast, he sat across from Marc.

Marc took a bite of his donut, giving a little moan at the taste. Matt smirked behind his bagel, "is it good?"

"Amazing." Maybe it was just because he hadn't eaten anything for days, but Marc would swear up and down that this was the best thing he'd ever tasted.

Matt smiled. "I'm glad. Are you feeling any better?"

Marc took another bite, chewed, and swallowed before answering. "Yeah. I don't… I don't really know how to explain it but I kind of feel like… Like the sun has come out after a long time behind the clouds. I don't think I'm like…. back to normal yet, but I… feel like I could be soon?"

"You don't have to be okay Marc. I just wanted you to come back to me, just a little. You were really out of it."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Marc, you have nothing to be sorry for. You're dealing with a lot and I understand how difficult that can be. You'll be okay. When you feel like yourself again we can talk about it, but you don't need to worry right now."

"I love you Matt."

"I love you too Marc. I just want you to be okay."