Worry circle

Joe grabbed my arm and yanked me into my old room at the bunker. Memories flooded me. I missed the simpler times.
"Bryson is worried about you and Ralph has us watching you." He said in a hushed voice. The memories fled as my body went cold.
"What?"
"Bryson is worried about your erratic behavior and admittedly, so am I." I took a step back.
"Why?"
"Lawrence, you are going on a roller-coaster. One minute you're happy, the next your crying then you're laughing?" My breathing felt labored. "Okay, okay. Sit down." He pushed me down on the chair. "I think you need to sit down and write your statement for the court date." He said gently. "Rene, you need to process and heal from what happened. You can't throw it away or let it sit on the back burner, it will boil over." Joe's eyes were filled with worry and care. Sighing, I hung my head. What was I doing? When I was a teen I would bounce off the walls and drive everyone around me mad. I'm not a kid anymore, this isn't high school. I had a job, a big one. One that comes with mounds of responsibility. I needed to step up.
"I'll do it."
"It doesn't have to be right away but-"
"No, I'll do it. I need to."

Joe left me alone in my old room. I sat at the old desk they had added in here. My phone, a pencil, and a notebook were the only items on it. I grabbed my phone and unlocked it. I stared blankly at my home screen. Then I clicked messages staring at the shortlist of people I text. Sebastian was only four rows down. I just stared at my screen until it went black. I did this four times before I got the courage to open them. Words have never been so taunting. We had a conversation, he seemed nice. As Wednesday Addams said, "They look just like everyone else." It's a common thought that bad people look bad. That they have receding hairlines, crooked teeth, and broken noses; but they don't. Ted Bundy was a horrific man, yet well-loved, good-looking guy. That's how people fall victim, we can't imagine good-looking people as having rotten souls.

I started my notes out before I wrote the chain of events. At the top, I wrote "Victim - Survivor" in big, dark letters. This event would not kill me, hurt me, but not kill me. I had to remind myself, I fought back, survived and he is behind bars because of me.

What happened:
-Met at Diner on 3rd st
-Exchanged numbers
-Texted for a week and a half
-Met for dinner
-Invited me back to his house to watch a superhero movie
-Went to his house
-Went to the bathroom at his house
-Came out and started drinking water and watching a movie
-Started to feel tired
-Started to feel sick and like I was going to pass out
-Texted Bryson to come to get me.
-Fighting to stay awake
-Bryson arrived
-Made Sebastian finish my water
-Left
-Got home
-Took bath
-Fell asleep

I pushed the paper and pencil away from me. I was finished for now. I couldn't do more. My hands were shaking. The next step would be to write the whole story. I wasn't ready for that. Settling for the lesser of the two evils I printed out the screenshots of Sebastian and I's text conversation. I didn't know what they would need but anything and everything can help.

Grabbing a stray folder, I tucked the screenshots and list inside and slapped it shut.  I wasn't done so I needed somewhere to hide it. Scanning the room a few times, I saw the perfect spot. There was an old picture with a thick frame around it. Because of the frame, it created a deep pocket between the wall and painting, enough room to hide a folder.

Before leaving, I stopped and studied the room. It seemed less lively than before we moved in. The walls were dull and boxes cluttered the corners. It was nearly an extra storage room.

So much had changed since the last time I was in this room. The earth kept spinning despite the fact that mine was crashing. Now, I wanted to destroy a room and scream why up at the sky. Hoping this higher power people believed in could hear me. The old me just looked at life and took it as it's was served. We don't get fucked up boxes from UPS and say "it is what it is", we send it back because it's damaged and we won't accept that. Why are our personal lives any different?

I snuck into the kitchenette while most of the team was at lunch. I had lost my appetite to stress.
"Where did you run off too?" Bryson asked.
"Some of us actually work around here." I grabbed a chip from his plate.
"Yeah I know, that's why I asked you what you were doing." He joked.
"Working towards being the better agent." I stopped in the door frame. "Oh wait, I already am." I flashed a bright grin and left. The guys all chuckled around the table.

Wandering down the most familiar hallway to me, I found the door open. Gold was sitting on his laptop typing away. Making a loose fist, I knocked on the door.
"Lawrence." He looked surprised to see me. I sat down in what I will call my chair. "May I ask the pleasure of your visit?"
"Bryson came to you, concerned about me." He nodded.
"I should have never roped Joe in." He mumbled to himself. "Yes, he did. He and I have had regular communication in regards to you."
"Shouldn't we be worried about him?"
"I am worried about all of my agents, Lawrence. Especially the ones who had seen more trauma in their stint here than anyone else." We made heavy eye contact. Sighing, I ruffled my hair.
"I'll have my statement for the court date to you by the end of the week." I stood up.
"Lawrence, if I may say something." I looked at him. I couldn't make up my mind if I was annoyed with them or grateful they cared so much. "There isn't an expectation on feelings. They don't just go away one day, we heal our way through them. If we put them in the back of our minds waiting for an expiration date, it will only cause more of a mess when we do finally get to it." His words sank in, covering me like a blanket.
"I just wish I would have been talked to, not talked about." Mr. Gold stood up to match me.
"You're right, I apologize. We want you safe, Lawrence. You will always be a number one priority." I sucked in my bottom lip to stop the trembling. I wanted to hug him.  I didn't know if it would fix the broken pieces in me, him, or both of us, but  I needed a hug. He reach other his hand and placed it on my shoulder. "You are important, anything you need we will always be right there." His words of comfort were the next best thing to a hug.

My mom had called me so I stepped out onto the gun range to wait for Bryson to finish lunch. We talked about everything that has happened the past couple of days since communication is hard being thousands of miles away. I told her the date with Sebastian was a bust but no sense in worrying her over something neither of us can change. She already worried about me enough.
"Gold said I could find you out here." Bryson found me sitting on the concrete wall. "You good up there Humpty Dumpty?" I smiled down at him.
"Why of course my future husband." Bryson chuckled. "Catch me so we can finish venue shopping." I laughed, pushing myself off the wall. Without missing a beat he caught me, just like I knew he would. My feet hit the ground with a solid thud.
"As promised." He smiled at me. I could easily get lost in his topaz eyes.
"As you should." Lowly, I said. "Come." I grabbed his hand despite the strong spark and pulled him behind me to the car.

As asked of us by Mr. Gold. We finished touring the venues collecting as much information as possible. We had visited the last location and were adding the information we got into our data system to send to Joe. He was going to store it and look for any patterns. I didn't get nearly as much information as Bryson did so I was done before he was.

We were just sitting in silence as he worked. My heart was beating so loud in my chest I swore he could hear it.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I blurted out. Bryson looked at me.
"Tell you what?"
"That you were worried?" His face went pale.
"What do you mean?"
"You're worried about me. But you didn't tell me. Instead, you went to Gold." My mind couldn't choose between curiosity, anger, and guilt. He stared at me like a deer in headlights. I refused to speak again before he did. Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned away."Not even twenty-four hours and it works its way down the chain." He grumbled to himself. "Alright, Rene, would you have listened to me?"
"Of course, I would have!" We stared at each other a moment. He was trying to intimidate me, it wasn't working. Sighing, he caved.
"Maybe you think you would, but you wouldn't. You would say your fine and try to carry the weight around like you are right now. You can't carry that around, Rene. Some people want to help you, people who love you." My heart flipped at the word love. "I know, I've been in those shoes. Do you know how much I hid from you?"
"You hid things from me?" Anger touched my words.
"Really? Look at the kettle calling the pot black." He raised his brows. He was right, I had no right to be mad, I was doing the same. "Anyways, of course, I did. I didn't want you to worry about me. You were so crazy busy. You were working, taking care of me, talking to your mom, going out with Joe, cleaning the apartment, grocery shopping, making plans with Lee and Dustin and me." The list of things I did when he was out was much longer than I thought. "That's not including all that you did prior. Your plate was full and I didn't want you to just sit around and worry about me, I knew you did enough already." Sighing, I leaned back on the headrest. I looked at the church we had just left. Ironic that the confession happened outside the church walls in a car. "Rene?"
"Where did all of this get so complicated?" The words floated out but I wasn't sure they were meant for only Bryson. "I mean, a year ago I never would have believed we are where we are today."
"At a church, pretending to be getting married." He joked, I laughed.
"That, and we both were very close to tragedy, but we made it." Bryson turned and looked at the church too.
"I don't know if I believe in any higher power or quite frankly anything more than the wind." I smiled. "But maybe something is saving us, maybe it's each other." I looked at him. I'd love considered a higher power?