Trevor gets Owen upstairs and grabs a sleeping pill for him. Then, once Owen’s tucked in and passed out, he goes downstairs. Mom is in the kitchen, a glass of wine in front of her.
She lifts her head and offers him the saddest smile in the world. “Hi, sweet boy.” Trevor walks over, grabbing her hand when she offers it to him. “Thank you for taking care of our Owen.”
Trevor nods, staring at her hand as he says in a delicate voice, “I’ll always take care of him.”
“I know.” Mom’s voice shakes as she says this.
“But I… I don’t want to take him away from you.” When Mom just stares, Trevor continues, “You won’t cut him off, right? You’ll still be in his life?”
“I’d never cut him off. Not for any reason.”
Trevor breathes a sigh of relief, slowly lowering himself into the chair beside her. He doesn’t release her hand. They just sit in silence for a moment, hands interlocked, then Trevor shifts in his seat, unable to keep himself from asking, “And me?”
“Will you still be in my life?”
Trevor knows it’s not really his life. None of this is really his. It all belongs to Real Trevor. He’s just there to fill the hole he left, but… but it’s all he has. All he’s ever known. All he wants.
Mom reaches for the wine glass and takes a big gulp. Trevor had noticed she drank a lot when he first came to live with them, but it tapered off slowly. Now, he only saw her drinking a glass or two a wine when Patrick came over for dinner. Tonight, though, she clearly just needed something to take the edge off.
“Of course,” she finally says.
Trevor watches her expression, the grief she wears on it as she refuses to look at him. He can’t stand it. He doesn’t want her to feel this way. He’s here to make it better, to take care of her and Owen. Trevor understands why she feels like she’ll be able to be cured of this grief if he were to be gone, but… but at the same time, he’s terrified it’d just feel like losing her son all over again. And Owen…
Trevor looks away himself to hide the tears brimming. Owen’s voice is in his head: “I am not killing him a second time!”
Trevor had had theories. Of course he did. It was impossible not to wonder about Real Trevor. He hadn’t wanted to think that Trevor’s death was self-inflicted, though. He’d considered a car accident like the father, or maybe drowning, fire, allergic reaction, some Final Destination style freak accident… but he avoided the possibility that Trevor chose to die and leave Owen and his mom. Trevor couldn’t imagine wanting to leave them behind. He loved them so much. He savored every second he spent in their lives.
Trevor wants to know so badly what happened. What made him feel like he couldn’t carry on anymore, and why did Owen think it was all his fault?
His mouth started moving before he could stop himself: “Mom, what happened to Trevor?”
Silence. Such a long silence that Trevor realizes he definitely did the wrong thing. Some Model Mates know whose shoes they’re filling, though Trevor was never meant to be one of those Model Mates. He was programmed not to know, but of course he knows. He knows all sorts of things he shouldn’t.
“He overdosed,” Mom says with a defeated shrug. “He was barely eighteen.”
So young. Trevor knew he’d been young, of course, but eighteen… In the grand scheme of human life, eighteen was just a baby.
Trevor hangs his head. “I’m sorry.
“It’s not your fault. He… he struggled with his mental health. We got him help. Took him to a therapist every week, met with a psychiatrist, got him put on some meds. But it wasn’t enough.”
Trevor glances at his mom—at Real Trevor’s mom—and he just hurts so much for her. “Owen thinks it’s his fault.”
“Why does he think it’s his fault?”
“Trevor started to get bad when Owen started dating this girl. And he just kept getting worse and worse until, t-the night before Owen was set to marry her, Trevor decided he… he was done. He didn’t want to live to see Owen get married. So.” She waves a hand in front of her helplessly.
Oh my god. “Nether of us were built to be on our own, and I had to learn that the hardest fucking way, and you will never understand what that feels like, Mom! You will never wake up and find your… your baby… your baby in your arms without a pulse…”
Oh my god. Owen… oh, Owen…
Trevor wiped his face. They were in bed together. Owen was holding him. He died in Owen’s arms. That’s so cruel. He laid down with Owen knowing what was coming, what Owen would eventually wake up to. Trevor understood he probably just wanted the safety of Owen’s arms in the last moments of his life, but… Trevor couldn’t help but wonder if it was also a bit of a punishment.
He thinks about his own relationship with Owen. About the kisses and the touches and the adoring way Owen gazes at him. Had Real Trevor been on the receiving end of those? Did Owen withdraw those lovely things when he began dating that girl—Andrea? Or did Owen never give himself to Real Trevor the way he’d given himself to the Trevor that now sat in the kitchen with his mother? Did he deny the love they undoubtedly shared?
Trevor knows Owen had been in love with Real Trevor. He’s never minded being a stand-in. He enjoys being cherished, especially by someone as wonderful as Owen. It’s special… it’s so, so special, he knows that, and he can’t stand the idea that Real Trevor never got to experience all those wonderful things. He deserved that. Trevor knows he did.
“I’m so sorry,” Trevor whispers.
Mom nods. “I’m sorry too, sweetpea,” she murmurs, lifting his hand up to kiss the dorsal. Her eyes are misty. He wonders if she’s sorry for not being able to help Real Trevor or if she’s sorry for threatening to shut him down or both. Probably the former, maybe the latter.
Trevor doesn’t care about her threats to shut him down, though. He wouldn’t want to go, but he’d accept it if it’s what Mom and Owen need. They’ve given him such a happy few years, and that’s more than most Model Mates get. He lifts her hand to plant a matching kiss on the back of her hand. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, baby,” Mom replies, and then she starts to sob. Trevor just holds her so tight because he knows there’s nothing else he can do to make it hurt less.
(Sorry, friends, I finished this months ago and just forgot to post it! ❤️)
