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They were about a month in the first time it happened.
It wasn’t a rarity to see Ben and Callum curled up in the same bed anymore, particularly in the cosy room of Callum’s flat. Whitney had grown less and less surprised to see Ben in the mornings now, sat almost naked in front of the sofa. As much as Whitney wasn’t best pleased when she had to buy herself some ear plugs because it wasn’t exactly enjoyable to hear Callum having sex with his boyfriend at midnight, it did warm her heart to see her roommate so happy. Ever since he’d started the play he’d been so much happier. He’d been having less and less flashbacks too, which was a huge relief- Whitney would never tell him, but his episodes were terrifying for her too. In the early days, she used to come back to Callum just passed out somewhere in the apartment, breaths still hitching, even in unconsciousness- when he woke up, he’d have no recollection of it. It got better when he’d gotten a therapist, who’d given him a name for his struggles- Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Eventually he’d gotten medication, and things had gotten better, slowly and steadily. Seeing how he was around Ben, though- it was like night and day from when he’d first returned from the army, and Whitney was so happy for him.
So, yes- it was almost normal to her now seeing Ben walking around their apartment most mornings. She’d even asked Callum why he didn’t just move in, to which Callum just blushed and shrugged.
What wasn’t normal was seeing Callum calling him at 3am, when she’d gone to spend the weekend with Tiffany.
-
Ben had just got up for some water when it happened. Callum had been restless all day, flinching at loud noises, getting irritated with the director- he assumed it was just pre-show nerves. They were a week away from opening night, and things had been busy- he’d tried his best to comfort Callum, but he just looked exhausted. Stupidly, he’d thought nothing more of it- tech was always hard on the newbies. It wasn’t until he’d heard the scream that he realised it was something more. It made him jump out of his skin at first- it wasn’t exactly something that you expected to hear at 3am in your boyfriend’s otherwise-empty apartment.
“Callum? You alright?” Ben said cautiously, creeping back to Callum’s room. He opened the door carefully to find Callum in just his boxers, cramped on the floor in the corner of the room. “Babe, what are you doing? You’re freaking me out here.”
He walked carefully over to where he was sat, and noticed the tears now tracking down his cheeks. His eyes were closed tightly, and his breaths were coming in pants, all too fast for Ben’s liking.
“Cal?” Ben said, worry now burning through his veins. He reached his arm out to touch Callum’s gently, to try and shake him out of whatever was going on, but as soon as Ben’s hand touched Callum he flinched away heavily, cowering away from the touch with a tiny whimper.
Ben felt totally lost.
-
“Callum, this better be important-“
“Whitney, it’s Ben.”
Whitney sat up further then. Ben’s voice on the other side of the phone sounded frantic, a stark contrast to the calm, unbothered exterior that the man usually showed. She couldn’t hear anything else in the background of the call, which was slightly comforting- they must have been inside. As much as she and Ben did get along, they definitely weren’t the kind of friends that would call each other at 3am, unless he was drunk.
“Are you drunk?” Whitney asked down the phone, doubt in her voice.
“What? N-no I’m not- look, there’s something wrong with Callum,” he replied.
Whitney’s stomach dropped. What had her roommate gotten himself into this time? Surely it must have been bad to warrant this kind of worry from Ben, a man who didn’t seem to be easily shocked.
“What happened?” she asked.
Ben let out a deep, shaky breath, and Whitney heard something shifting on the other end of the phone. “I don’t know! I just woke up to grab a drink and I heard him scream- now he’s just sat in the corner and he’s breathing really heavily- fuck, does he have panic attacks? He- we talked about his PTSD but he never really said how to help him.”
Whitney sighed, mentally scolding herself- of course, it would be nightmares. “Yeah, yeah he does, he’s probably had a nightmare. Right, in the bottom of his cupboard there should be a heavy blanket and a little shoebox. Go and find them.”
“O-okay,” Ben replied, and Whitney heard the sounds of shifting on the other side of the phone. Fuck, she hoped this would work.
-
As soon as Whitney said it, Ben rushed over to the wooden wardrobe on the other side of Callum’s room. When he opened it, the whole thing was neatly organised, clothes sorted and hung up by colour, shoes on a high shelf- it was so strangely Callum, so perfect and proper. On the bottom of the wardrobe, a huge blue blanket was folded up neatly, with a small brown shoebox stacked next to it. Ben grabbed both quickly, noting the heavy weight of the blanket, and picked up Callum’s phone again.
“Got them, what do I do now?” he replied, staring at Callum on the floor in front of him. His breaths hadn’t calmed any, and he was now curling in on himself, arms wrapped around his head as if trying to protect himself. Every so often, a little whimper escaped his mouth.
“Okay, put the stuff down on the floor in front of him for now, and just try and talk to him. Don’t touch him, but just remind him where he is, and who you are. He’s probably having a flashback. Try and get him to breathe with you too, alright?” Whitney instructed, her voice startlingly steady.
“On it,” Ben replied, before turning back to his boyfriend. “Hey, babe? It’s just Ben, alright, I promise you’re okay. Just, um, try and breathe with me, can you do that? Just take some deep breaths.”
Ben wasn’t even sure if Callum had heard him. He didn’t react at all, just started muttering something unintelligible to himself instead.
“Keep talking, Ben. I know it doesn’t seem like it but it does help him. Just- talk about your day or something,” Whitney said from the other end of the phone line.
“Right,” Ben sighed, trying desperately to pull his tired brain together. He could do this- for Callum, he could. “You know, Cal, I was thinking today about that first day of rehearsal, when we first met. You looked so nervous standing outside the theatre on your own there, I thought you were going to throw up. When you got inside though, on the stage- that’s why I was such a prat to you all that time. Because, however humble you insist on being, you’re really good at it. I noticed, the other day, you get this look in your eyes when you’re on stage alone. You get this little sparkle, and you’re looking out at the seats like the people watching don’t even bother you, and you just look so confident up there. Like nothing could shake you. That’s why I was such an idiot- I was jealous, that you just came on stage and it looked like you were right where you were supposed to be. You only ever get that look in your eyes when you’re on stage, and that- the first time I saw you like that, I just knew I had to know you.”
“Soft,” a quiet, careful voice said from in front of Ben. He quickly opened his eyes- when had he even closed them? – and saw Callum half smiling at him. The man looked exhausted. His breathing had begun to steady back to a somewhat normal rate, and he was sitting up now, rather than curling himself away. His hair was all mussed up, suggesting that he’d been pulling on it, but he looked a lot more alert than he had when Ben had first found him.
“Hey, you,” Ben said softly, trying not to let the worry that still seethed in his veins show on his face. Callum smiled in response, his eyes moving to the blanket on the floor beside Ben somewhat longingly. Ben grabbed it quickly, unfolding it and draping it over the other man as best he could. He seemed to visibly relax at that, letting out a deep sigh. One hand peeked out of the side just slightly to stroke over the soft, fluffy texture of the outside.
“Do you need anything else, Cal?” Ben whispered, eyeing the still closed shoebox carefully. Before Callum could respond, his phone buzzed from beside Ben. A text from Whitney lit up the screen.
I hung up when I heard him talking. Make him take his meds. Thanks for calling me x
“Whitney said you’ve got some meds you can take?” Ben said carefully, unsure how Callum would react to Ben having called her.
Callum sighed, a small smile pulling at his face. “They’re in the box.”
Ben carefully removed the lid from the shoebox and peered inside. There were only a few items in there – a couple of folded sheets of paper that looked as though they were old letters, what looked like an army beret, and a small orange pill bottle. When Ben removed the bottle, he saw the corner of a picture frame peeking out at the bottom of the box, but decided it was perhaps best not to pry. He passed the pills to Callum, who took the bottle in a shaky hand, tipping one out before passing the bottle back to Ben.
“Thank you,” Callum whispered, once Ben had helped him swallow the small pill.
“What for?” Ben replied.
“For not- I don’t know, freaking out and leaving me, trying to make me talk or move,” Callum said, closing his eyes for a moment.
“People have done that to you?”
Callum just nodded. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this. Got a lot more than you bargained for when you met me, ay?”
“Stop that,” Ben replied. “Don’t apologise for this, it ain’t your fault. And I don’t care about any of this, Callum. Like I said on our first date, we’ve both go crosses to bear. This doesn’t make me like you any less.”
A heavy blush climbed up Callum’s cheeks at that, and his eyes flickered open again, a look of utter love in them.
“Will you hold me?” he asked shyly.
“Always,” Ben responded, shifting to sit next to Callum, and pulled Callum’s head to his chest. That hint of insecurity in Callum’s voice when he thanked Ben only fuelled the fiercely protective fire burning through him then. How anyone could ever dislike this sweet, beautiful man, Ben wasn’t sure- but he promised himself then that no one would ever make Callum feel inadequate like that, not while he was around.