Sunday

For the rest of the week, things had actually not been too bad around the house. Tessa and Senn hadn’t talked much after she told him that his parents probably knew him better than he thought, but Senn had no idea what it exactly meant.

At least it had helped decrease tension between them, since Senn admitted that he hated having dinner with all of them because they looked like some perfect little family and he didn’t feel like he fitted in because he was so angry all the time.

Tessa went as far as eating dinner with him alone; after Killian, Jessica and Dean were finished.

Senn felt relieved he had spilled some of his worries and frustrations, since it had created mutual understanding between the two of them. He had actually expected her to be pissed because he wasn’t willing to play pretend with them. He had actually felt as if Tessa would feel insulted or hurt over him pushing her away, telling her he didn’t want her to take his mother’s place.

None of that happened, and Tessa hadn’t even gotten mad when he gave up on school on Friday yet again, unable to focus any longer. She had sat him down in the living room, gave him a fruit juice and cookies and later asked him to help her fold laundry.

All was… okay.

At least, that was until he came home from hanging out at Avan’s place on Sunday. He dumped his bike at the back of the garage, after noticing a car on the driveway that he hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t too big, but it looked brand new.

Was there some sort of social worker visiting them, perhaps because Senn wasn’t attending school enough? But they wouldn’t visit on Sunday, would they?

He nervously entered the house through the back, walking into the kitchen while his eyes searched the room.

“Tessa?” Senn called out, walking into the living room, where he found her on the couch with a book and a cup of tea. Nothing seemed as if he was in trouble, which made sense since it was in fact still Sunday and nobody would bother them on Sunday, unless it’d be cops, right?

“Hey Senn,” Tessa replied, smiling while putting the book aside. “Had fun with your friends?”

“Uh, yeah,” Senn nodded, looking out of the window with a frown. Not that it was any of his business, but he was curious about the sudden car. Most of Jessica’s friends parked out on the street, and Killian wasn’t even home from work yet.

“Senn?” Dean’s voice sounded behind him, causing him to jump. “Tessa and I have been talking about this ever since you started school again,” Dean placed an arm around his shoulder, and dragged him back outside; through the front door and towards the car, followed by Tessa.

“What?”

“We figured now that you’re going out again, you know, school, friends, maybe sports once you’re allowed and capable…”

“Don’t tell me you bought me a car.”

“Your old one got crashed…” Dean smiled widely, and Senn actually felt guilty for wanting to snap at him when Dean handed him the key to the car; more or less pushing it into his hand without knowing that Senn didn’t want that key. “This will give you some more freedom.”

Senn stared back and forth between the car and the key for a good minute. While a part of him was feeling excited since he didn’t even remember getting a car from his parents that he eventually crashed two months later during the car crash that changed his entire life, a bigger part of him could not ignore that last part; he was the one who had been driving. He had only been driving for two months when it happened.

He could not remember what happened

And having people tell him it really wasn’t his fault because some drunk idiot decided on driving on the wrong side of the road, evidently missing a red light and slamming into them wasn’t enough to not feel guilty.

And he might have forgotten a lot about the months before the accident and the first weeks after the accident, one thing he hadn’t forgotten was the fact that he swore he was never going to drive, ever again.

He curled his fingers around the key in anger, since he was pretty sure he had informed Tessa, Dean, Killian, doctors, psychologists, psychiatrist and really anyone who started about him getting back in a car that he wasn’t ever going to, ever again.

He threw the key back at Dean, who had walked toward the car to proudly look at it from up closer, turned around and ducked under Tessa who stretched out her arms with a worried look. “Fuck you! I’m not driving a car, ever! You know I don’t!” He yelled at them as he stormed back into the house, up the stairs and into the room with his stuff, using a few boxes to barricade the door to prevent them from coming after him.

As soon as he dropped flat on his bed, he felt guilty for snapping at them while they had good intentions. A car did offer him more freedom and it would mean he’d get to sleep an extra 15 minutes each morning. He could go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

He knew they meant well, and they were just trying to cheer him up even more. But he could only focus on the negative side of things, and he felt like shit because Tessa and Dean seemed to be in his line of fire a lot.

He knew, from the moment he started actually remembering the things they told him about the accident when he was still in hospital, he had repeatedly yelled at them to fuck off, leave him alone. He had even blamed them for him still being alive, asking them why they didn’t just pull the plug and let him die in peace. He knew, because he wrote those outbursts down because his psychologist told him to write down everything that was bothering him, and all the things he was overcoming every day.

He also knew Tessa and Dean did the right thing.

And he had never told them he didn’t blame them for keeping him alive any longer. He never told them he was actually thankful they took him and Killian in and changed their own lives to accommodate them and their needs.

When he flipped open the diary at a random page, he found a bright green sticky note under one entry; because you still have fears to overcome.

Senn frowned at the sticky note, and read the short entry, trying to understand what the sticky note was about exactly. The entry held a memory if his time in hospital, where he wrote down how much he hated needles, but how he still had remained calm when they came to take some blood for tests.

And he just knew, the handwriting was Elio’s. And while he turned back a few pages, he discovered a few more notes, all with reasons.

They were small, and on their own insignificant, not making any sense. But looking at the bigger picture, they made him smile a teary smile.

Elio was giving him reasons to continue.