Chapter Text
Being an international student is expensive. Even with the scholarship that covers tuition, Olly still has to…well, live. No one ever sets out to be a Resident Assistant, but the room and board sure does make a pre med student feel a lot more equipped to focus on school.
“Ugh I just don’t see why I have to,” Olly collapses into the RA lounge couch. It’s a grey and semi-scratchy thing from ikea. It needs a crochet blanket. He curls his hands around his thermos, cold to the touch with the smoothie his supervisor snuck from the caf.
“That was a lot.” Amira nudges his shin with her toe. “Pretty traumatic yeah?”
Olly takes a tiny sip. He can tell the banana she used still has the tiniest bit of green. “Nah it was fine.” He rubs his eyes with the cuff of his sweater. “I’m good. I’m okay.” It was just a late night call. Olly gets plenty of them whenever it's his night to be on duty. Drunk people being loud. People who forgot their keys after a night out. One idiot who needed a fucking bandaid.
Amira stares back at him. It’s almost as if the haphazard messy bun makes her eyes bigger. “Why am I having a hard time believing you?” She leans her head on the back of the sofa, settling in.
“The student was having a rough night, now they’re being seen by professionals. Problem solved.” Olly shrugs.
“You took that call at 1am Ols.”
And stayed up til five afterwards to get the report done. But Amira will probably figure that part out for herself when she goes over the daily paperwork with their boss. Olly untwists the top of his thermos, peering in at the contents. “Yeah I was up studying.” More greenish banana smoothie. Ooh was that mango?
“Bullshit.” Amira pokes him again.
“I kid you not. I have a quiz coming up on –”
“No one responds to a distress call and is fine the next morning.”
“Well I skipped class.” Olly digs for his personal phone in the pocket of his trackies, pulling up his Gmail app. “Here, look.”
He watches Amira’s eyes scan the most recent item in his Sent folder.
Hi Prof Calbert. Apologies for the late hour but personal emergency- will not be in today’s seminar. Thx for understanding!
He remembers his thumbs flying across his keyboard as he walked on autopilot back to his room, across to a different wing and a different floor of the residence hall. Not bothering to sign off with his student number at the bottom like he recalls his neurophysiology prof instructing on the first day of class. But he’ll be fine. Oliver Spring never skips school anyways. One day is not the end of the world- at least that’s what he’s been using as his mantra for the past couple hours.
Amira sighs. “Oliver.”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Well you’re about to have a meeting with Mathias.” They stare at each other while Olly drinks more of his smoothie, caught in an in-between space.
“I might–” His voice wavers and he clears his throat. Then tries again, only whispering this time. “I might never want to talk about it, so just let me exist for a minute. Please.”
Amira’s shoulders melt further into the coach. “Okay,” Her face settles, something that is close to a smile, but is trying not to show pity. “Do you want a hug?”
Of course he does. He presses his lips together so hard, he worries it could draw blood.
Olly scooches towards her on the couch, unable to brave any eye contact. His long arms wrap around her like a magnet, her teal highlights mingling with the picked at cuffs of his hoodie. He tries his best to match his breathing to Amira’s. It’s the quickest way to calm down. Olly lets his eyes drift close. He’s so fucking tired. And after waking up his boss in the middle of the night once he watched the ambulance drive away, Mathias requested a meeting as soon as he got to work.
Mathias’ office is a floor up, right by the entrance to the building. It’s confoundingly normal, walking to his boss’ office in what are practically pajamas, first years breezing past him with coffees and backpacks on their way to their first class of the day. The smart people who selected afternoon classes are still in bed. Olly swings his lanyard in a circle, keys and student card clacking together. This morning is also totally normal. It’s standard practice to check in with the residence manager after a night of being on duty. Especially in the first six weeks of school while everyone is getting acclimated- that’s what Mathias stressed in their training anyway.
Olly knocks on the heavy wooden door. It’s usually open all the way, but today only by a small crack. Odd.
“Come in!”
Mathias’ office is a clash of aesthetics. The old crown molding and deep wood tones meet sage green walls and motivational phrases and pop culture posters. Like the man deeply wants to be a minimalist, but can’t help the overwhelming cards and photostrips crammed onto the bulletin square beside his desk. Olly loves it. And he loves working for Matthias. He’s in his early thirties with a chip on his shoulder from many years in child protective services, now happy to be working at a desk manning the helm of a building full of freshly legal adults that are still basically children.
“Just the human I was looking for,” Mathias trails off, though his eyes remain focused on his computer screen as his fingers fly off the keyboard. “Gimme one sec.”
Olly gently sits down in the chair opposite the desk. He takes the thin blanket thrown over the back and wraps it around his shoulders.
“And sent.” Mathias sighs through his nose then turns to Olly, completely refocused. “How are you, Oliver?”
Better than when I woke you up a couple hours ago. Is what Olly wants to say.
“Tired, I guess.”
Mathias’ eyebrows lift fractionally. He’s an annoyingly good active listener, just waiting for Olly to continue on. Rude.
“I mean I know I’m tired. I haven’t slept, really.” Olly sips more green banana smoothie. “But I think that’s all it is. You said this was part of the job, so I think after I get some rest my mind will be less preoccupied.”
Mathias nods slowly, lips pressing together. “Distress calls are part of the job, you’re not wrong. But they’re also very rare. It’s never easy, especially when you’ve never done them before.”
Something invisible claws at Olly’s chest. There’s a tightness in his shoulders. “But I still did my job though, right? I thought I handled it.”
“Absolutely.” Mathias’ face softens, “I’m not saying you didn’t handle it. I’m saying that it’s hard no matter what.”
“Thanks.” Olly wraps the blanket more tightly around himself and drinks more of his smoothie. Something in him wishes he could dissolve into the floor.
“Is there anything about last night– or this morning, I should say, that would be helpful to unpack?”
Olly blinks. “Did I file the incident report correctly”
Mathias seems taken aback. “Yes, it was very detailed. I more so meant the actual crisis and response. How you’re feeling about it all.” he folds his hands together on top of his desk, watching Olly curiously.
“I’m fine,” Olly nods and takes a sharp inhale. “But maybe in the future… I don’t take calls like that?” He presses his fingers harder into the cold thermos, watching Mathias smile sadly.
“I understand where you’re coming from, but there’s no way of knowing until you open the door. You could try asking more questions while you still have the person on the phone, that way you can decide if you need back up.”
“But like… what if it’s… triggering?” Olly winces. “Ew. That sounds cliche, you can forget I said that.”
“I’m getting the sense you have words for me but you don’t know what they are yet.”
“Maybe”
“Okay. I’m going to use my magical manager powers to get you on the waiting list for mental health services.” Mathias starts furiously typing again. The man’s real superpower is writing an email whilst upholding a conversation. Then his fingers are still on the keyboard. “Wait– is there someone you’re already seeing there?”
Why would Olly be seeing a counselor? “No. Our student plan only covers ten sessions, so I thought I’d wait until I really need them.”
“Maybe now is the time.” Mathias’ tone is gentle, if a little knowing. It makes Olly slowly slide down in his chair, pulling on the strings of his hoodie. It’s an ineffective means of hiding. The thing is, Olly doesn’t have the time to be focusing on his mental health right now. He’s naturally gifted, and school has always come easy, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been working super fucking hard in order to continue to pull good grades and maintain a social life. His calendar is packed as is.
“Okay,” he resigns. At least Mathias cares. That’s nice. He’s being a good manager. Olly leans forward in his chair, just about at his max. “Would you mind if I went back to my room now, or is there anything else that needs reviewing?”
Matthias takes a quick glance at his laptop. “Yes, could you tell the girls at the end of your hallway that the plumber will be coming tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yep,” Olly starts to make his way out.
“And make sure they’re not hanging–”
“Hanging their towels on the pipes again, you got it!”
“You’re a star, Ols.”
Even though they’re just over a month in, it’s become shockingly easy to talk about one student in a mental health crisis and another with a malfunctioning faucet in the same breath. Olly scans his key card to get back into the dorms section and weaves through the maze of hallways to the service elevator. Thankfully it’s tucked far enough away that not all the students have learned about it yet.
It’s not too long of a wait. When the doors finally ding open and Olly shuffles inside, he presses his back to the cold metal and lets his head softly thunk against the wall. He might cry once he finally reaches his room. But he might not.