Free Tag Team by SJD Peterson

Rig. Rig gave him a tolerant smile and continued to eat his breakfast.
    “Where do you live?”
    “New York,” Rig said around a bite of egg.
    The three of them talked about New York City. They kept the topic on food, shopping, and art centers, as well as the insane traffic and crowded sidewalks. Mason had always wished to see a big city like New York, San Francisco, or Chicago, but knew it would never happen. The number of people alone made it an impossibility. Thankfully, the conversation didn’t steer back to Mason as they finished their breakfast and the two older men helped him clean up the kitchen. But it was a short reprieve.
    “Thank you for breakfast and helping me clean up,” Mason said sincerely as he put the last dish away. “And…. Yeah, and for being there for me last night, I really appreciate it, but I have some chores to take care of and…. Yeah, well… thanks.” Mason shrugged and started to move toward the front door, hoping the two would get the hint and follow him.
    “The note said you have no friends or family,” Bobby said gently.
    “I’ll be fine, really,” he assured them and opened the front door. “I’ll call my family doctor and get checked out, but honestly I’m fine.”
    “It’s Sunday, Mason,” Rig said, stepping up close. He stopped before he moved out the door and stood directly in front of Mason. “We can give you a ride to the hospital, have you checked out.”
    “For a hangover?” Mason balked and took half a step back.
    “Mason. You were in a very bad place when we found you,” Rig said grimly. “We can’t just leave you here alone.”
    “He’s right,” Bobby added, coming up to stand next to Rig. “We probably should have taken you last night. I wasn’t thinking clearly and I apologize for that.”
    Mason tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling for a long moment, doing his best to come up with something to say that would convince them he really was fine. Actually, fine probably wasn’t the best word choice, but he was better and that was something to grasp on to. He’d reached a turning point the night before, and he was still standing, still breathing, and that was more than he’d thought he could do. He held his breath for a heartbeat before letting it out and lowering his head to meet their concerned gazes.
    “Again I apologize for putting you through that last night. It was unfair and I’m really, really sorry. But I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt I am not going to off myself.” Mason rubbed at his tired eyes and huffed out a breath. “You don’t know me so I’m not sure how I can convince you that I’m being sincere, but I promise to lock up all the pills and hide all the sharp objects.”
    “What about later, tomorrow, or the day after that?” Rig asked. “What about when you are alone again and….” Rig began shaking his head vigorously. “I’m sorry, Mason, but my conscience just won’t allow me to leave you alone. I’m sure the mental health agency has a number we can call, somewhere we can take you so you can talk to someone.”
    Mason threw up his hands in defeat and stomped over to the couch and threw himself on it. He ran his hands over his face and tired eyes again. He hadn’t been awake long, but the alcohol-induced sleep hadn’t been what he’d call restful and not nearly long enough to recharge his battery. “I’m not going to check into some seventy-two-hour therapatizing program when I don’t need it.”
    Rig opened his mouth to say something, but Mason held up a hand and Rig snapped his mouth closed. “Yes, yes, yes. I get it. I did something really fucking stupid last night,” he admitted. “But I wasn’t a complete idiot. I didn’t go through with it. I changed my mind.” He looked at them pleadingly as they joined him; Rig took the recliner across from him, sitting on the edge, forearms on his knee, hands clasped, and Bobby sat stiffly at the other end of the couch.
    Obviously they had