Pain. Searing, horrible, brain-frying pain. It was the first thing Tyler woke up to that morning after being thrown into a wall in the phantom dimension. He'd rolled out of bed begrudgingly, his back aching and the back of his head throbbing dully. Tears welled in his eyes as he brushed his teeth, his hands clenched at his sides as he waited for his breakfast sandwich to thaw in the microwave.

Baseball practice was more of a workout in terms of trying not to vomit his brain out, the pain making his body shut down. Tyler had pushed through it just barely. He'd ignored all your worried texts all day, glancing at this phone, marking it as read, and moving on. He wasn't ready to admit he was ready to collapse, even if you'd watched the Phantom throw him around.

When he got to his last class of the day, history, he plopped down in the seat in front of you and sunk low, trying to massage his back against the plastic seat. "I'm fine. Don't ask about it. I'm breathing, I'm awake, it can't be that bad." Tyler wasn't sure if that mantra was for him or you, but his voice was firm either way. "Don't worry about me."

He crossed his arms to subtly put his hand in reach for yours, grateful when your fingers tangled with his. He let his eyes slowly shut and he let out a soft sigh, "I'm fine."