"You know," Wes says conversationally, "I've been thinking of doing this for years."

Travis can feel the tears building behind his eyes, and he stays silent as Wes pauses before continuing again.

"Sometimes it's so, so fucking hard to get out of bed in the morning. And then I go to work where I get yelled at and mocked and… and sometimes I wonder, why bother, you know? Because it's not worth it. And then, once a week, I get to go to fucking couples therapy, where I get mocked some more. And in between I get to go back to a fucking hotel room, where I don't even have a goldfish for company." Wes laughs again, and Travis starts crying in earnest. He thinks he never wants to hear that awful laugh again, but he sees two possible outcomes with that result, and one is utterly unfathomable.

"Wes…"

"Shut up, Travis. What – going to tell me that I should just relax? That maybe if I was less of an obsessive compulsive asshole, things would be easier? I need to let loose. I need to let it out, isn't that what you said? Let it out, let it out, let it out! You know what? Fuck you, Travis. I'm done." Wes is screaming, and Travis finds himself sobbing softly.

For a moment, none of them move.

Then Wes seems to deflate, blowing out his breath and looking back down at the ground again, scuffing his shoe against the side of the ledge.

Travis sees his partner standing on one foot, right at the edge of the roof, and panics. Forgetting Wes's earlier threat to jump should he come any closer, Travis jolts forward, choking out a desperate, strangled "Wes, please…" Wes jerks his head upward, and for a mind-numbing moment, Travis freezes, thinking that this is it – it's over – but then Wes turns minutely in their direction, frowning slightly, hearing something in Travis's voice.

"Travis… are you crying?" Travis almost denies it – the rain is hiding his tears – almost goes on the defensive, but he decides that the silence has gone on long enough between them. He decides that their unwritten policy of feigned apathy maybe isn't the best way to go – because where had it gotten them, anyway?

The roof.

He decides that his partner really deserves to finally know, to realize, how he affects people – deserves to know how much his pain is hurting Travis right now.

"Yes."

"You… you never…I…"

Wes's eyebrows furrow downwards, but he says nothing more, so Travis continues, wondering when things had gone so wrong that his partner would be even the slightest bit surprised at his distress at finding him about to commit suicide.

"Wes… Wes I'm crying because you can't do this, man, alright? I'm crying because I really thought you were okay. I'm crying because I hate myself for not noticing that you were in this much pain. I'm crying because I hate myself for making it worse. I'm crying because I don't know what I'll do without you. I'm crying because I wish so desperately that you didn't hide everything all the time, because then maybe we wouldn't be here right now, and I wouldn't be trying to talk you down from jumping off a building, Wes. I'm crying because I feel completely useless right now. I'm crying because I had no idea you internalized so much, and that it hurt you so bad. I'm crying because I'm terrified you won't give me a chance to make it better, Wes, because I want to so bad. I have a lot of brothers, Wes, you know that, but… man… you're my partner – you're one of them, and I can't lose you like this, okay? Please, please Wes, I'm begging you, please, please…" Anything else Travis might have said is lost to sobs.

If Dr. Ryan is proud, despite the situation, she makes no indication of it.

Wes crumples in on himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his torso, ducking his head to his chest, shoulders shaking as he cries, but makes no move to get down from the ledge. When minutes tick by and Wes still hasn't moved, Travis inches his way forward, praying that Wes doesn't take that last step. When he's almost within arm's reach of his partner he murmurs his name again softly, but Wes doesn't react as he'd hoped. Wes tenses, and there's something in his stance that stirs utter panic in Travis. Feeling the adrenaline rush through his veins, he takes a flying leap at him from the side and tackles him to the ground, pulling him immediately into his arms as they roll to a stop.

At first Wes struggles, squirming and pushing at Travis's arms, frantically trying to get free, but Travis is stronger, and at that moment there's nothing Wes could do or say that would make him loosen his grip. Finally, the fight drains out of Wes and he dissolves into heaving sobs, and Travis just holds his shaking partner tighter, burying his face in Wes's soaked blond hair and rocking back and forth as Wes scrabbles for purchase on Travis's leather jacket. "Shhhh. We can fix this. It's going to be okay. Things will be better, I promise. Shhh." Travis hates how tiny Wes feels in his arms – how fragile, how broken. It's several minutes before Travis notices that Wes's teeth are chattering, and that the quivering in his body isn't just from emotion, and he realizes how long Wes must have been outside in the storm without even his suit jacket for protection.

Dr. Ryan holds her respectful distance as Travis pulls Wes up as he stands, keeping his arms tightly around his partner. She will be ready when they need her.

"Let's get you warm, huh bud?" Travis ushers Wes towards the door, with Dr. Ryan following behind. "We'll fix this, okay? You're not alone anymore."

AN: So that's it, folks. Obviously this isn't something that gets fixed in a day, but that's it for the story. Thanks for reading! This may be continued in the form of little asides/prequel/sequel one-shots, but we shall see, as it depends on how much work/school gets in the way. Thanks again! And if anyone out there ever considers doing something like this, please, please get help from someone - you're not alone.