COLIN: Feveruary Day 3 - Migraine and Drama
This IS plot relevant!!!
Prompt: Migraine
Alright, so this has been on my mind for so long now, I'm very excited to finally have this part of the storyline done. This follows "When Rowyn Drops", but not directly after. I know there's going to be a Julie fic that falls in the middle, and some kind of snippet about Charlie, but this is what wanted to be written first :)
-- -- -- -- --
Max is on a video call with Leo discussing the upcoming events at Rainbow when there's a knock on their closed door.
They're head shoots up towards the door, before they glance back at Leo, brows furrowed as they try to recollect their train of thought. When Leo's in the middle of answering, there's another knock, and Max bites their lip, hesitating before asking Leo to pause, "Hold that thought, I've gotta check on something."
One of the only "hard and fast" rules that Max has is that if their door is closed all the way, they're working, so please don't interrupt. Especially with a remote job like theirs, it's important that they have a semblance of privacy and can focus on work when they need to. Their room mates are all very respectful of this, for the most part, so it's kind of strange for someone to be knocking, and especially to be insistent enough to knock twice.
They mute themself on the call and make their way to the door. When they open it, they're surprised to find Colin, looking unsettled and… weird.
Their brow furrows as they try to figure out what's wrong. Because something is definitely wrong.
He's leaning against the wall, just enough for them to notice it.
He's not smiling - he actually looks pretty upset.
He's holding himself strangely, almost as though he's injured.
"Hi," they say, when he doesn't explain.
"Can I come in?" he asks softly.
Max is getting more confused by the minute. They glance back at Leo on the video call, and then back at Colin.
"Um, not really? I'm on a call right now, I'm working."
"Oh. Right," Colin says, shifting his weight off the wall, and turning away.
"Wait, no, tell me what's wrong," they request, following him a step further into the hallway.
He turns back, too quickly it would seem, from the way he wobbles, and their concern ratchets up a notch.
"I'm just…" he trails off, staring at the floor absentmindedly as if looking for the word, "Feel weird," he settles on, waving a hand around his head for emphasis.
"Weird…?" repeats Max, feeling so lost.
"Yeah. Um… head fuzzy. It's… sparkling," he adds, waving his hand around again, wiggling his fingers this time.
Then it clicks.
"Ohh, you're having auras?" they ask to confirm, realizing he's probably on route for a migraine.
Colin nods, then winces when it flares the disco party currently dancing through his brain.
"Okaaay, why don't you go lie down, and I can come hang out with you once I'm done this call?" they suggest, quietly.
"I waaas," he almost whines, "But Rowyn's gonna be home soon."
"And that's bad because…?" Max asks, feeling like they're playing catch-up.
"I don't really want to think about him right now," Colin admits, looking at the ground.
Max frowns; not quite what they were expecting, but they're also not completely surprised. They sigh, then gesture for him to follow them into their room.
He quirks a smile at them before his face settles back into a vaguely pained grimace.
Max returns to his desk, and tells him, "I still have to finish this meeting," but Colin waves them off, sitting gingerly on the bed and laying down. It's weird to see him so mellow.
"It's not too bad yet," he tells them, closing his eyes.
Max unmutes themself and turns the volume down as much as he can, quietly continuing his conversation with Leo.
They'll freely admit to being distracted, Colin's form on their bed a little too concerning for them to remain entirely focused on Leo. However, they manage to make it through their notes without much difficulty, and they finish soon enough.
Once they end the call, they jot down a few notes of things that Leo mentioned or brought up, and then quickly revised their "to-do" list for the day, factoring in the migraine-ridden best friend.
They crouch down next to the bed so that can look at his face properly.
"How're you doing?" they ask gently.
"Meh," he groans in response, "It's getting worse now."
"Hey, did you take meds?" it occurs to Max now that they hadn't even thought to ask earlier.
"Yeah," he answers, hand coming up to rub across his face, "Just before coming here, realized I couldn't sleep it off. Thought I was just stressed."
"Aw," Max coos, reminded that Colin had been dealing with it alone first. They're glad he came here. Especially since something's clearly bothering him in addition to the migraine.
They ruffle their hand gently through his hair, careful not to add pressure, but hoping it's comforting.
Max glances over him, silently calculating the best course of action.
They tug a water bottle out of their bag lying on the floor, and then motion for Colin to move over, sliding onto the bed next to him, so they're sitting next to his head.
"Here," they offer the water bottle, and Colin sits up just enough for a sip, before clumsily passing it back to Max. He drops his head back down, wincing as it sends a staticky burst of pain across his head.
Max wraps an arm around him, tucking him more closely to their side.
"Want to talk more, or do you need quiet?" they ask carefully, watching for any signs of exacerbated pain.
"Hmm," he hums noncommitedly, "'S fine," he slurs after a moment.
Yeah, because that fills me with confidence, they think wryly, not willing to actually tease Colin in his state.
Max just sighs gently, fingers playing with the end of Colin's hair. He blinks slowly, eyes hazy with pain, and they realize it must be getting properly bad now. They realize they forgot to turn the lights off, and they mentally slap themself for such an oversight. They shift gently, hoping to slide off the bed and remedy it, but Colin's whine of displeasure almost stops them in their tracks.
"Sorry," they whisper, shimmying far enough that they can reach the lightswitch, plunging the room into soothing darkness, and Colin sighs in relief.
He leans into Max when they come back, as waves of pain ripple through his head. Max sits there, calm and steady, sliding an earbud into one ear with some music playing, but otherwise, the room is silent except for their breathing.
— — —
The pain sparkles across his forehead in staticky little pulses, the auras disintegrating and making way for a full frontal assault of his senses.
Everything is exacerbated. The glow from the digital clock on their desk, normally inconsequential, now sends spikes of pain through his skull. Every little noise vibrates through his head, from Max doing something as simple as breathing, to the hum of something electric sitting on their desk.
Max shifts ever so slightly, but it's enough for the bed to shift under him, and he gets that sensation that the floor has dropped out from under him, sending his stomach swooping. It brings the nausea to the forefront of his mind for this first time.
His hands find their way to his hair, pulling hard enough for the pain he causes to cut through the edge of the migraine pain.
"Hey," Max whispers, but they could have shouted it from the way it attacks his ears, making him whimper and curl in on himself.
(There's moments every day where Max wishes everyone knew sign language. This is one of those times.)
Max's fingers find his, tugging them away from his head, strands of hair slipping through his fingers as he's guided away. Their hand starts sliding though his hair, much gentler than when he did it.
Between the sharp pains in his head and the nausea curdling in his belly, he loses track of time and space, existing only in this little pocket of darkness.
That relative calm lasts only until the sound of the front door cuts through the silence. Even at the opposite end of the flat, he can hear keys jangling, doors opening, and the general sounds of someone coming home after a long day.
Every sound chips away at the fragile control Colin has over his body.
Max mutters something and swipes their phone open, turning the brightness down, but it still paints the inside of Colin's eyelids red as the glow lights up the room. He tucks his face into the blankets, pressing his head against Max's leg, wanting to crawl out of his skin from the pain.
"It's Ro," they inform Colin, as quietly as possible, just in case he changed his mind and wants his boyfriend there.
Unbeknownst to Max, Rowyn is actually part of the reason for the stress that led to this migraine, and while yes, part of him would love to Rowyn there, he's also not sure that's what he actually needs. Not when Rowyn is making him feel…
All this thinking is making it worse.
There's no doubt in his mind anymore, he's going to throw up.
— — —
Something happened when they brought up Rowyn. They know something's happening between them, ever since Colin's birthday party and Charlie's subsequent emergency. And they were there when Rowyn had his breakdown.
They are not surprised that Rowyn chose not to share those feelings with Colin, but seriously, for two people that love each other so much, they are shockingly bad at communication. To be fair, they didn't know what has going on in Rowyn's mind until they caught him off guard, so it makes some sense that Colin hasn't picked up on it yet…
They're pulled from their thoughts when Colin shifts next to them, pushing himself up on an arm, and fumbling towards Max with the unoccupied hand.
"'m gonn-be s'ck," he slurs so much Max can hardly understand, and they frown, looking at him as best they can in the dark. He's pale, is the first thing they notice, then, He looks sick.
Oh. He looks sick.
Thank goodness they keep their room so clean, they think, as they scramble towards their desk (ignoring the pained noise that Colin lets out), navigating it easily in the dark. They grab their garbage bin, depositing it in front of Colin, and he leans forward with a strangled heave, a dribble of puke spilling into the bin.
He lurches forward again, a larger gush of puke landing in the bin, crinkling the papers at the bottom, and Colin squeezes his eyes shut in protest of the sound, but can't stop the next gag, more vomit joining the mess.
It's not as violent as normal, coming in ragged gasps and heaves interspersed with whimpers of pain. It's a heartbreaking thing to witness, especially knowing there's not really anything they can do to help.
Tears start leaking from his eyes, and he chokes on a sob, biting back as much noise as he can, even though his body has decided on disobedience today.
Max has witnessed his migraines before, but it's not usually them sitting with him through it. It's not that they mind, it just feels kind of weird knowing that Rowyn's on the other side of the wall and probably much better equipped to handle the situation.
Colin announces that he's done by spitting once into the bin and dropping unceremoniously back onto the bed, a gasp leaving him as his head hits the pillow and sends a shock of pain through his whole body, muscles clenching in response.
Max sighs in sympathey under their breath, and whispers "Be right back," instinctively smoothing a thumb across his cheek first, swiping away some tears the way they might for their little sister. They creep from the room, making their footfalls as soft as possible and sliding into the hallway. The light spills into the room anyway, and Colin muffles a cry behind them, and they wince.
They close the door behind them, muttering a "sorry" even though Colin can't hear them (which is probably a good thing, that man does not need to be in any more pain).
First things first; they empty the bin, and remember to put a new bag in, just in case. Then they grab a glass of water; You're supposed to drink water with a headache, and they don't know if that's true for a migraine too, but either way, vomiting is a great way to dehydrate, so water it is.
Okay, the last thing they wanted to do was check in with Rowyn. They're a little worried though, they saw his reaction to Julie helping Colin. And even though it's not their fault, they're a little concerned that Rowyn will be weirdly jealous and antagonistic towards them too.
He's not in the kitchen or living room, they would have seen them, which means he's in his-and-Colin's room.
"Ro?" they knock on the door, and get a grunt in response, so they push the door open.
"Um, so, Colin has a migraine," they tell him, but he doesn't even look up from his textbook.
"I think he's okay? But I don't exactly know what I'm doing here, he just finished puking-"
Rowyn's head snaps up to look at them, and he's frowning, but… oh. His eyes are watery and red-rimmed. They don't think he was actually crying, but he's obviously struggling with this as well.
"Oh," he says, "It's a bad one." Max shrugs. It seems pretty bad to them, but they didn't really have much to compare it with.
His fingers twitch, as if he's itching to be with Colin, and Max doesn't like this at all.
"It's going to be okay," they tell him gently, "You gus'll figure this out."
"You think?" he asks, fingers twisting together.
"Yes." they leave no room for question, "I really believe that."
Rowyn nods, looking at the floor. Max is about to leave, when he looks up again.
"Sometimes ice packs help, usually on the back of his neck. And he likes his hair played with, or his fingers, the contact helps distract him."
"Okay, thank you," Max answers, relieved, both that Rowyn's not upset with them, and that they have advice moving forward.
They slip back into their room, finding Colin curled in a ball with his hands fisted in his hair once more. They slide the ice pack against the back of his neck, as Rowyn suggested, and he sighs in relief, hands releasing their tension as the coolness seeps into his skin.
Max pulls Colin towards them, now reassured that contact is helpful, so they're less restrained in their movements now, following their instincts.
— — —
It's a few hours later when the pain finally starts to release its hold on Colin, and he starts to uncurl. He leans more into Max, feels them shift to accommodate him. The pain retreats fully over the next half hour, until he can open his eyes and move around without feeling like a spike is drilling into his head.
He sits up, and eventually starts to get cleaned up, peeling off his sweat-soaked shirt, and scrubs a hand across his face and through his hair. He drinks more of the water that Max offers.
He drops his head into his hands, rubbing his temples tiredly. Migraines always wipe him out, and he feels as if he could sleep for days.
Max sits next to him, and then quietly says, "I thought you'd be going to hang with Rowyn now?"
He supposes it makes sense. And he does want Rowyn. His familiar comfort, and easy logic, and how sometimes, just being in the same room is enough to quiet his thoughts. But he's not sure that would be true right now.
"Not yet," he tells Max, and he hears a sharp intake of breath, then a sigh.
"Do you want to talk about it?" (because apparently Max is collecting everyone's stories and perspectives now)
Colin groans, a sharp pain flaring across his temples as his thoughts pick up, but it subsides fast enough.
"It's just… Rowyn still won't lay off about Julie, and he's not talking to me and I can't get through to him. I just don't understand what his problem is! And now Julie's telling me that he's not good enough for me, and that I deserve better, and she's not listening to me either."
They start to say something, but Colin keeps going, "and something's up between Jamie and Charlie, but I don't know what."
"So you noticed that too!" Max exclaims, and Colin looks at them in surprise.
"Yeah…" he says, but Max shrugs, clearly not having answers either.
"I guess it was just too much," Colin mentions, "I should've realized this was coming when I felt weird the last couple days."
"You are in a pretty tricky spot," Max agrees, but their mind starts whirring about Colin's place in everything.
There's a few moments of quiet, where Max filters through their thoughts.
"Hey, I know Rowyn's taking things out of proportion, but are you making sure you listen to him, too? Have you tried to see where he's coming from?"
"I've tried!" Colin explodes, more defensively than he'd like, "But he won't talk about it! And I can't figure out what his problem is! Like, I know it has to be more than Julie, but why does he have such an issue with her?!"
"I know," Max says gently, "He does have some valid points though," they add, thinking back to everything Rowyn said that night.
"Do you know what's going on then?!"
Max sighs, and mutters something vague, thoughts flying now. Actually, they're starting to see how this whole thing got so exaggerated. Initially, they thought Rowyn was overreacting to a harmless friendship between Colin and Julie, but then they realized that he actually feels threatened by her, as misplaced as that may be. And yes, the jealousy is unbecoming, and he hasn't handled it particularly well.
But if Colin doesn't seem to be taking his concerns seriously, or he doesn't think Colin's listening to him, that wouldn't disprove the parasitic thought processes. They would also hazard a guess that Colin hasn't been very affirming, towards Rowyn's emotions or his own as of late, and that perhaps, they're both feeling a little neglected.
But they're starting to see how they might be able to help fix whatever broke between Colin and Rowyn. Colin needs to listen, and also tell Rowyn how he feels without disputing everything he says, and Rowyn needs to not take everything as a threat and try to understand his own motivations. Neither of them are being honest enough, with themselves or each other. They know it's up to them to put in the work and sort themselves out, but perhaps they can be of some use.
Oh, and as for Jamie and Charlie…
"So…" they start to change the topic, "For the record, I don't know what's up with them Jamie and Charlie either. But then, you have to admit, everyone's been treating Charlie kind of weird lately."
"What do you mean?"
"You haven't noticed? Rowyn's doing that thing he does where he cares while pretending not to, so he's been really intentional with meal planning and being so logical about things without saying anything. You've been asking her more questions than normal, about her sugar, about her monitors. And I think Jamie's basically given up on even trying to sleep in case something happens in the night."
"Oh," Colin pauses, not having thought too much of these behaviours, "What about you?"
Max shrugs, "I've mostly been trying to remember that she's been thinking about this and dealing with this much longer than we have, and she deserves our trust. So I'm trying to let her tell us what she needs, especially with you guys driving her crazy."
Colin's quiet, thinking, but Max adds, "I don't know if that's what's up with her and Jamie, though, I think it might be something else."
They sit in silence for another few minutes, Colin digesting everything they've talked about, and Max still thinking through what they've learned.
"You know, it doesn't have to get to the point of a migraine, yeah? You can come talk to me whenever, or anyone else."
"I guess," he answers, "I'm not even sure I realized how much it was all bugging me. It was too much today though, between Julie being annoying at work, and then knowing everyone would come home and it would be awkward and tense all over again."
"Fair enough," Max hesitates, before continuing, "I really think you should go see Rowyn now though. Even though you don't know what's happening, you still love him, don't you?"
They already know the answer, but they need to double-check before they push too much for them to start working out their problems. Because this weird tension rift thing has gone on way too long, and it's spiralling out of control now.
Colin looks at them like they're crazy, and says "Of course I do."
Max nods once, "Glad to hear it. Now, go see your man," relieved when Colin smiles (albeit more tiredly than normal), and stands up, only swaying a little bit before steadying.
"Thanks," he says softly.
He heads down the hall, and knocks on the door to their room, pushing the door open enough to peek in.
Rowyn's head pops up from the desk, where he was poring over some complicated science-y paper.
"Colin!" he exclaims, hopping up as he edges his way into the room. Rowyn stops in front of him and scans him from head to toe, "Migraine's done then?" he checks.
Colin nods, and flops onto the bed.
"Good," Rowyn says, walking back over to his desk.
"Noooo, where are you going come back," he whines, and Rowyn chuckles.
"I'm putting my things away, give me a second." He closes his book, and shuts his laptop, then walks over to the wardrobe and pulls out a tshirt, which he tosses over to Colin where it lands on his face, "You forgot a shirt," he teases, gesturing to his still bare chest.
"Oh, I'm sure you don't mind the view," he teases, easily falling back into the rhythm of being together, even as a corner of his mind whispers that it doesn't mean things are fixed.
Once he's pulled the shirt on, and Rowyn has settled in bed with him on his chest, he feels the bone-deep exhaustion pulling at him again, and he yawns, sinking into the comfort of his boyfriend. Despite the issues they might have, there's nothing quite like being held by this man, and it reminds him that it's worth fighting for.
"I love you, ya know," he mumbles, giving up the fight and letting sleep pull him under.
And if Rowyn tenses under him at the words, well, he might never know.