[Samuel x Roman]

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"No ... he didn't hit his head, I watched him, he ... I don't know what's going on."

Roman's voice was a whisper as he held onto Samuel and gently, slowly, rubbed his heaving back. He knew this had something to do with Manuel, and he knew this was something that had been festering for a while. He also knew that whatever had just happened, it had been triggered by the homophobic man screaming at them. And that was not good.

"Do you think we need to get him to the hospital?" London asked, her voice soft and afraid. She leaned into Evan, all the while rubbing Allison's back.

"I ... no, I don't think so." Roman felt that Samuel needed to go home and relax, rather than be poked and prodded at the hospital. He knew that that was what he would want after an anxiety attack.

Roman pulled away slightly to look at his boyfriend. "Do you want to go home?" he asked him softly. "Or should we take you to the hospital."
 
Samuel was aware of the talking going on around him but he was tuning it out to try to calm down. His breath was somewhat back to normal, although a little shaky and he was still sniffling softly into his boyfriend's shirt as the tears kept running from his eyes. He was scared, not only because of getting yelled at but because he had no idea what just happened. Roman's hand on his back was kind of soothing though, and he focused on that feeling to try to keep himself in the moment. He was being held by Roman. They were outdoors. Things were okay.

When Roman pulled away a little though, Samuel did try to hear what he was saying, because he needed to know why. At the mention of the hospital, Samuel quickly shook his head. No. He couldn't to the hospital that was too much, "N-no, I want to go home. The apartment, r-right? Are we in Melbourn?"

He was almost certain they were but he just wanted the confirmation.

"You guys stay with him I'll see if I can get the car closer so he doesn't have to walk too far," Evan said and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and his baby, who slowly was getting calmer as well, on the forehead before hurrying of to the car they had all gotten there in.
 
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"Yeah, we're in Melbourne, love," Roman said softly, rubbing Samuel's back and kissing him on the side of the head. He knew he had to be patient and calm in order to help Samuel. He needed to keep it together, just as Samuel had done for him on many, many occasions.

Evan brought the car and Roman gently helped Samuel into the backseat, where he sat between Samuel and Allison's carseat while Evan drove them all home. Once they arrived, London quickly put Allison inside before she went back down to help Roman bring Samuel up the stairs.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked as Roman helped Samuel into their bedroom.

"No, we should be fine. Thank you."

Soon Roman and Samuel were alone and Roman gently lowered Samuel into bed. He took off his shoes and brought the covers up to Samuel's chin. Then, he sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed Samuel's arm.

"Are you feeling better? What do you remember?"
 
Samuel sat quietly the entire ride home, trembling lightly and leaning against Roman. He felt really dazed, and weird and he didn't really know what to do with himself except to just get driven home, helped up into the bedroom and tucked into bed. Finally getting to the familiarity of the bedroom helped a lot though and by the time Roman asked how he was he felt like he was able to speak normally again.

"Yeah, I feel better, " Samuel said weakly, at least he was aware of where he was and what was happening now. And he could kind of remember what happened before he… broke down?

"I know it only was some drunk guy but It felt like I was back home in Maryborough when dad was mad at me and yelling and about to--" he stopped himself because actually retelling what he had been experiencing made his heart race again, he took a deep breath and tried speaking again, "But not just like it reminded me of it, I really believed I was there, Roman, I… I could practically feel him hitting me."

Samuel could feel the tears coming back now and for a moment he feared he was going to be experience whatever that was that happened in the park again. But nothing more happened, he was just crying because he was feeling bad. As horrible as it was that was kind of a relief.

"I-It w-was really scary," He moved his hand up to his mouth to quench the sobs and looked at Roman with an expression of hopelessness. The dreams hadn't disappeared, he was still on edge all the time and now this had happened, but now that he had already talked to his dad he had no idea what to do to feel normal again.
 
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Roman's heart broke all over again seeing his boyfriend look so helpless. He listened to his explanation of the events and tried his best to come up with something, to come up with something that he could use to console his beloved Samuel. But he found nothing. He had taken psychology class all throughout his later years of high school but nothing he had learned then made any sense when thinking about Samuel.

"He's never going to touch you again," Roman said softly, reaching up and cupping the side of Samuel's face. That was all he could think of to say. "He's in prison and you've cut ties with him. He's never going to hurt you again. I promise you."

Roman licked his lips, leaned in and very carefully kissed Samuel on the forehead. He then checked the time on the clock sitting on the bedside table. He found that it wasn't too late, only four in the afternoon, meaning that most doctors clinics would not be closed at that time. Roman did not go to a normal general practitioner, he went to a haematology specialist for his blood and a psychiatrist for everything else.

A psychiatrist ... that reminded him. He had an appointment the next day.

"Look ... I think you should come with me to see my psychiatrist tomorrow," he told Samuel very gently. "Dr. Smeaton is lovely, she'll let you sit in with me, and then you can talk to her about what happened today, and about the dreams." Roman gently caressed Samuel's cheekbone with his thumb. He was trying to be as gentle and coaxing as he possibly could.

"I think it will really help."
 
Roman's reassurance and forehead kiss made the tears subside a little and Samuel listened carefully to what Roman had to say next, which was a suggestion to come with him to the psychologist.

The idea of having to talk to someone he didn't know about this was not something Samuel found very pleasant. Roman was the one person he could talk about these kinds of things with because Roman was the one person he felt completely comfortable with. But as it were now Samuel felt so desperate. He just wanted this all to be over. He wanted to be himself again.

"Okay, I'll come with you," Samuel said with a little sniffle, "I can't live like this anymore,"

Then he held out his arms for a hug and pulled Roman closer because Roman made him feel safe and he was tired and even if only was the afternoon he really felt like he could go to sleep at any moment. He always felt like that these days though.

"Can you take a nap with me?" Samuel requested weakly, "I'm scared of sleeping alone,"
 
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"Of course," Roman murmured without complaint. He kicked off his shoes and slipped under the covers, assuming the big spoon position with his boyfriend, and rubbed his arm until he was sure Samuel had fallen asleep.

The next day, Roman and Samuel travelled to a small and quaint house near the centre of Caulfield, their suburb. A lot of these houses, that were too close to the business district to be proper residences due to the noise, had been remodelled into doctors' offices and dentists, hairdressing places and specialised clinics for things like eyesight and hearing. Roman parked his car in front of a cute little white house, with a trellis of roses against one wall and a sign in the front yard reading 'DR AMELIE SMEATON, PSYCHIATRIST', above the relevant contact information.

Roman lead Samuel inside. The front living room had been re-purposed into a waiting room, complete with a TV against the wall and a collection of kids' toys in one corner. No one was waiting. Dr Smeaton specialised in things like anxiety, depression and bipolar disorder, which were common afflictions, but since her clinic was rather out of the way and she wasn't very well-known, she only had a few patients. Roman preferred that when it came to his doctors. He didn't like the industrial feel of general practitioners, and instead liked the personal connection he made with more private professionals such as Dr Smeaton.

"Dr Smeaton?" he called.

"In here, sweetie!"

Roman took Samuel's hand and lead him down the hall to what would have once been the master bedroom. Inside, a small, grandmotherly lady with a curly bob cut and gentle wrinkles sat at her desk. The walls were lined with bookshelves and her desk held a computer and many notebooks. Dr Smeaton wore a pink blouse, loose gray pants and a warm smile. She was likely in her late fifties.

"Dr Smeaton, this is my boyfriend, Samuel," Roman told the nice lady. Dr Smeaton beamed and stood up to shake Samuel's hand.

"I've heard so much about you! It's very nice to meet you. Please, take a seat, I'll get us some drinks."

So they sat, in the squashy armchairs positioned near the desk, and Dr Smeaton left the room, coming back with a tray that held two cups of tea for herself and Roman, a cup of coffee for Samuel and several raspberry tarts. She set the tray on her desk and turned to the boys.

"So, Roman, how has your new medication been treating you?"

"Very good, it helps a lot more than the last pills," he told her, taking a tart. "But ... if you don't mind, Dr Smeaton, I think we should talk about something else first."

Dr Smeaton cocked her head to the side. "Oh? What seems to be the problem?"

Roman looked at Samuel and gave him a reassuring look, before turning back to his doctor. "Samuel has been having some ... problems, and I thought it would be best for him to talk to a professional about it."

Dr Smeaton nodded understandingly and turned to Samuel. "Sweetie, don't be afraid. Tell me what's going on."
 
The next day Roman brought him along to his psychiatrist just like he had said. Samuel wasn't looking forward to it but he felt so hopeless and tired of it all that he didn't complain, even once. He just wanted to get better ad if this was what it took he'd be willing to do it.

The place was quite homely, which was nice, Roman had mentioned this was what he preferred and Samuel could really see why. He was pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to deal with the nerves if this had been something that looked more like a doctors clinic or whatever. This was just… Nice. And Roman introduced him to Dr Smeaton who seemed really nice as well and soon Samuel was being asked to tell her about what was happening.

Samuel looked at Dr Smeaton for a moment, then Roman, then back to the psychiatrist, then the floor. He felt incredibly weird about being bout to tell ha total stranger this and he somehow felt kind of guilty about taking up time that was supposed to be spent on Roman. But he knew Roman wasn't going to allow him to back out now, so refusing to talk would only take up more of that time.

"I, uh…" He turned his gaze away from the woman in front of them, choosing to focus on a spot on the wall behind her instead, "I've been having these dreams, nightmares, since… I dunno April, or well, I had them before that but not as often, and sometimes when I wake up I can sit there for like, fifteen minutes, not knowing where and sometimes who I am. And I uh, I've been… Re-living? These moments from my past, only a couple of times, but when it happens I'm just completely sure that what happened before is happening, like it feels real."

Samuel wasn't sure how to talk to a psychiatrist, he had never been, his parents had been recommended he'd go when he was younger because he had been too scared to talk to people but they had had him sign up for soccer instead and that had helped in making him more confident. He also wasn't sure how much this lady already knew about him about him and his past from Roman. Samuel didn't mind if he talked about him with her, not at all, Samuel assumed it'd be hard not to mention things about the person you spent every day with, it just meant that Samuel didn't know how into detail he had to go now, if he could avoid mentioning his dad and what he had done to him he would, but if telling her about it was necessary then he'd do that too.

"Oh and I feel kind of on edge all the time, but I think that's just because I'm tired from not sleeping,"
 
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Dr Smeaton listened attentively, taking notes on her notepad and nodding as Samuel described his experiences. Roman also listened even if he knew all of this already. He kept one hand in Samuel's and watched him as he spoke, feeling nothing but agony as Samuel told them both what was happening to him.

His beautiful, lovely, amazing, sweet boyfriend was suffering, and that hurt Roman more than he could describe. Samuel did not deserve this. He deserved to be happy, and safe, and comfortable. Roman despised Manuel with everything he had for doing this to his amazing son. Samuel deserved a better father.

"This doesn't sound pleasant," said Dr Smeaton with a sigh. She made another note on her notepad, then stood up and made her way over to one of her bookshelves. She pulled out a large volume called The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders and sat back down with the book in her lap.

"Samuel, I'm going to ask you a question, and it might be uncomfortable for you to answer but if you tell me, it will help me figure out what's going on," Dr Smeaton said, a maternal nature to her voice. "Have you experienced anything traumatic in your life? You say that you're reliving something when you have these experiences. What are you reliving?"
 
Samuel wholeheartedly agreed that that was a question that was uncomfortable for him to answer and he sat quietly for a while, just mentally preparing for answering it, focusing on the comfort holding Roman's hand gave him.

"My dad he would—He would…" Samuel trailed off for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "He beat me, regularly, ever since I was maybe twelve, I think. I don't remember exactly when it started,"

Samuel really hated saying that, for several reasons. It was hard to talk about something so horrible, he always felt kind of ashamed when mentioning it and part of him still didn't want to paint his father in a bad light.

"But not that often, only once or twice every or every other month…or so. Sometimes more sometimes less," Samuel said, feeling the need to downplay it. He never thought things like "I'm a victim of child abuse" because he always felt like his case could have been worse and that there were kids out there who did have it a lot worse, "But yeah, so uh, I can hear him yelling at me, and I don't really look but I know I'm there visually too, and I.. yesterday I could even feel the pain kind of, so.. yeah… I can't really differentiate it from reality,"
 
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Roman gripped Samuel's hand while he recounted the events of his childhood. God, it was terrible to hear. It was awful to know how his boyfriend had been treated before Roman had even met him, before he had been able to take Samuel away from all of that torment.

Dr Smeaton closed her eyes for a moment. "I'm very sorry to hear this." She opened her eyes and looked at her book. "Now, I'm going to ask you a series of questions, and you tell me to what extent you agree with them."

Dr Smeaton asked Samuel how often he had the dreams, how they made him feel, and many other things that indicated to her to what extent his problems went. Roman watched as she seemed to go through a checklist in her book, as if she was ticking off symptoms.

Roman then realised, that was exactly what she was doing.

After a little while, Dr Smeaton closed her book and set it aside. She took off her glasses and set them on the desk, and then looked at Samuel tenderly. "Samuel, dear, I'm afraid that the trauma you experienced when you were younger has caused you to develop a form of post traumatic stress disorder. This can often manifest years after the event itself."
 
Samuel answered the questions to the best of his abilities, the only thing that kept him from crying was the fact that he didn't want to cry in front of this person he didn't know, had only Roman been there he would have probably done it already. And had he not been there to hold his hand he would have probably cried too.

But he didn't. He just let Dr Smeaton go through the list and answered the questions. And when she was done Samuel waited with his heart beating hard in his chest for her to tell him what was happening only for it to sink when she did. Post-traumatic stress disorder. It made sense. The bad dreams, the memories, being paranoid, he should have been able to guess it.

Despite explaining things this new information didn't make Samuel feel relieved at all. He hated it. He hated the fact that even after properly breaking contact with him his dad was still getting to him, still messing up his life.

"But that's for people who've been in wars or seen people die, not…" Samuel stopped talking again because he was saying was dumb. Not what? Not abuse victims? He couldn't say that, it sounded incredibly unreasonable. He just wanted her to change her mind and tell him that it actually was nothing to worry about and that he'd be fine next week, he didn't actually believe he couldn't have it.

He looked over at Roman with an almost pained expression because he didn't know what to do with himself. His hands were trembling again and he had to move the one he wasn't holding Roman's in a firm grip with to rub his eyes under his glasses to stop himself from actually crying.

"I—I don't..." He turned back to Dr Smeaton but he wasn't actually sure what he wanted to say so he stopped himself, took a deep but shaky breath before continuing "So what? Is this just not going to stop now?"
 
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PTSD.

Roman knew the heartsinking feeling of a diagnosis all too well, so he knew exactly how Samuel was feeling. And he would be lying if he said it didn't affect him too. This was his boyfriend, the man he was in love with, the human being that he was going to spend the rest of his life with. They were too far to deny that anymore -- they were soulmates.

And Roman's very soul hurt now. He looked at his boyfriend with sadness in his eyes and rubbed his back. He knew he couldn't heal this at the moment, he knew this would take time, but he was going to try.

"Not necessarily," Dr Smeaton reassured him. "I'd like to prescribe you some medication. I know there is a lot of negative stigma around it, but it will genuinely help you, I believe. And I feel that you should also come see me for counselling sessions. If there are any financial issues regarding any of this --"

"There aren't," Roman interjected. He made more than enough money to cover Samuel's counselling and pills, and even if he didn't, he would find a way to make it work.
 
The idea that there was something that could make it easier did make Samuel relieved until she mentioned that it would cost money. And Roman said it wasn't a problem. Samuel knew Roman honestly already was making more now than he'd ever make as a teacher, he was okay with that, he wasn't sure if he was okay with costing a bunch of extra money he knew he didn't have himself with him only waiting tables halftime. He'd work more but he really didn't have the time between studying, soccer and actually getting time to rest too. He didn't want to be a burden for his boyfriend.

"Roman we'll talk about that later, kay?" Samuel requested somewhat weekly, worst case scenario he just skipped the counselling or vice versa, hell, maybe the medication wouldn't actually work for him, then they wouldn't need to get it… He hoped it would work, though.

"How would medication help?" Samuel asked Dr Smeaton carefully, he rarely had to take medication at all, he was a really healthy person physically, mentally could be disputed, especially now. Either way, the idea of having to swallow pills daily scared him. He saw Roman do it every day and he constantly wondered how he could do it because it was this constant reminder that he wasn't completely okay.
 
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"Prazosin will help with the nightmares," said Dr Smeaton tenderly. She had already opened a file on her computer, one that would allow her to type up a prescription. "And antidepressants will help with the anxiety."

Roman glanced at Samuel at that comment. The word 'antidepressants' had a lot of negative connotations. Roman himself took them for his anxiety and he relied on them more than he would happily admit to anyone. They were focal to his ability to function in the real world.

He wasn't sure how that would affect Samuel.

"Will this come under my insurance?" Roman asked. Not that it mattered. He would pay whatever amount of money was required to treat Samuel.

"Yes. Meaning you get a significant discount on the pills themselves, because you have shared economy," Dr Smeaton explained.
 
Samuel almost wanted to protest and say he only really needed something to help against the nightmares, because in his mind the excessive worrying and jumpiness was due to a lack of sleep, simply because the symptoms had appeared after the dreams. But he knew he probably shouldn't argue with a professional. Antidepressants just sounded so harsh, he wasn't depressed, he was happy, well not right now or the past month but in general. He knew it wasn't for that though so that argument didn't make sense. He was well aware of the fact that Roman took them for his anxiety.

That also made it worse in a way, he knew Roman's anxiety was severe so the idea of needing to be treated in a similar way was scary to Samuel.

But hey, at least Roman's insurance would cover some of the cost, that was a nice bonus.

After that, Samuel got some more information about how and when to take the medication. Prazosin before bed, they'd up the dosage gradually if it helped. Antidepressants taken regularly even if they don't seem to work at first, they take a while to kick in. Plus some side effects. And then he got the printed out and signed prescription papers in his hands and it felt even more real than it had before.

Despite literally feeling heavy because of all the information about his bad state of mental health Samuel still asked, "Is there still time for you to talk with Roman?" When they seemed done because he felt bad about taking up all the time Roman surely needed as well.
 
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Dr Smeaton checked the time on her watch. "Yes, we've still got fifteen minutes or so before the end of the session."

So, Roman talked with her about his anxiety and his ADHD for a few minutes, before mentioning that he was almost out of his own antidepressants. Dr Smeaton immediately printed him out a prescription and after a little more conversation, they said their goodbyes and Roman lead Samuel back out to the car.

He was silent until they were seated and Roman had started to drive. Roman wasn't sure what to say. He knew, from his own experience, that most of the things people thought to say about this kind of stuff were entirely unhelpful. But he couldn't just stay silent.

"This will help you," he said. "I know that this isn't what you wanted, and I know this sucks, but this will help you. And you don't need to worry about the money. We can cover your counselling appointments -- I make that much money in a day anyway. So, please don't stress about the financial aspect. I just want you to get better."

Roman parked in front of the pharmacy he usually picked up his meds from and picked up the small pile of prescriptions. He went in and put them in, buying a package of Samuel's favourite candy while he was there, before going back out to his boyfriend and sitting the sweets on his lap.

Roman put a hand on the other man's shoulder and rubbed it slightly. "I love you," he reminded him.
 
Samuel sat quietly the whole ride to the pharmacy, nodding along at Roman's words because they were true and waited in the car until Roman came back with all the medicine because he really didn't think he could deal with being out in public right then. And candy, like the wonderful and amazing guy he was. That's when Samuel cried, he just leaned over and hugged Roman and let it out. He felt like he had been crying a lot lately but he also felt like he had good reason to.

It wasn't too bad of a cry though and soon Samuel was able to let out an "I love you too" and then they were on their way home. They spent the rest of the day at home, quietly going about their day. Samuel didn't really have the energy to do anything productive so he mostly just stayed on the couch with the pets watching TV. At one point Evan, London and Allison popped in just to make sure Samuel wasn't dead. For him yesterday felt kind of like forever ago, but for them, it was just yesterday so of course, they were worried. Samuel specifically told Roman not to tell them yet. He wasn't going to keep it from their friends and family but he needed so time to come to terms with it himself before he let other people know what was going on. He did take the opportunity to ask them to take Lady out for them, though, he didn't really want to leave his spot on the couch.

By dinner time Samuel was feeling more like his usual self though, or at least the usual tired and on edge but somewhat happy self he had gotten to know this past month, just because he knew what it was now didn't mean he just magically knew how to cope with it. They were talking about what they normally talked about at dinner, what was happening at work and university, the books they were currently reading, what silly things they had caught their pets doing recently and whatever else were on their mind.

His mood turned back to horrible again when it started to get to bedtime though, he knew he would have to take the recently prescribed medication and he just couldn't feel good about that. Part of him felt like it was too sudden and almost didn't want to do it but the other part of him just really wanted to be able to sleep again and if he postponed the pill taking he would be postponing getting full nights of sleep again.

H decided to take a quick shower right before bed, just to clear his head a little, it didn't do much though and when he got back into their bedroom, dressed in his usual pyjamas of boxers and a plain T-shirt he couldn't push it further away anymore. He would have to do it. Roman was already in bed so he crawled up into it and quietly cuddled up without saying anything. He wasn't sure what to say really. It was like he wanted help, but he knew how to swallow a fucking pill. Just not how to deal with it emotionally.
 
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Roman put an arm around Samuel and rubbed his back soothingly. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. He knew Samuel was going to struggle. He knew all of this because he had gone through exactly the same thing when he had first started to take his pills. Every small chunk of medication had felt like a weight, nestling into his stomach.

But he knew that the benefits of taking his medication far outweighed the side effects and emotional aspects. He knew he needed to take them and he always would need to.

"It's going to be okay," Roman promised quietly.

He had prepared two glasses of water -- Roman usually just took his pills with whatever can of Coke he was drinking, but he knew Samuel wouldn't like that so he had gotten proper glasses. He had also bought them both, when he had went out to get milk, sparkly pill organisers, the kind that had a separate compartment for each day of the week. Samuel's was navy blue and Roman's was black. Roman had organised their pills beforehand.

He sat up, gently moving Samuel into a sitting position, and handed him his glass. He then set Samuel's pill organiser in his lap and his own in his. He opened both of the Sunday compartments, since it was a Sunday. Roman's obviously had about four times as many pills as Samuel's did.

Roman scooped up his pills in one hand and held his glass with the other. "Taking these doesn't make you weak," he said quietly to Samuel, looking at his pills. "You're not weak. I'm not weak. Taking the pills shows that we have the strength to actually confront our afflictions. They help. And I know you see me go through phases where I hate myself but I know that they help. I know this is hard for you, but taking them shows how strong you are."
 
What Roman was saying was definitely what Samuel needed to hear. Roman was so strong, it was something Roman thought about every day when he saw Ramon swallow all of those pills, he just didn't feel the same way in regards to himself… But maybe he could be at least a little strong too and this would be the proof of that. And he'd get better so at the end of a day it was a good thing. He would be way worse off if he didn't do this. It was like Roman said, it would help.

"Okay," he said quietly but in a more decisive tone than he would have thought. He did like Roman by getting the pills out and grabbed his own glass of water, he appreciated that Roman had chosen the plain beverage for his sake this first time. He wasn't going to force Roman to keep doing it like this, he had his habit and routines all worked out, but it helped because this time he needed to do this together with Roman. He also appreciated the pill organizers, but more in a "wow Roman is adorable and sweet" kind of way than anything.

As he was about to put one in his mouth, though he hesitated and stopped himself. Bringing his hand back down, he didn't feel entirely ready yet. He decided that was okay.

"Can you tell me about how it was when you first got diagnosed when your anxiety?" Samuel requested carefully, he knew it was long ago and that he was a lot younger so it would it would probably be kind of different, but he had been there for his most recent diagnosis and the anxiety felt more similar to the PTSD than Roman's ADHD so that was the one he felt was the most relevant to ask about.
 
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