#wanted to kinda bridge the gap between the movie and real life paul a little

[mxliv-oftheendless]

I Don’t Care

I dunno about you guys, but after the news from last night, I could use some levity. So here it is, with some hurt/comfort goodness! I also haven’t posted anything of StarVel in like, a while, so there’s that too. Hope you guys are all doing okay. @cosmicrealmofkissteria This one’s for you, boo. Enjoy!!

In which Starchild learns that Velma does not care.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Starchild was by nature a lively, energetic person. He loved life, and everything that came with it. 

Sometimes, though, it would happen where he would wake up in the morning and feel… not happy. Depressed. Like a dark cloud was hanging over him, sapping away any potential positive feelings he might have felt that day. He’d noticed it tended to happen during extended periods of stress, and he hated it. He didn’t feel like himself on these days; these days where he felt like all it would take was one more disaster to make him scream or cry or both. 

He tried acting like nothing was wrong. He tried to put on a smile and tried to get through the day. But sometimes it just became so difficult… 

Starchild entered his hotel room and flopped down on the couch with a heavy sigh. Today had been one of those days. He tried to maintain a facade, and he plastered on a smile and laughed and joked around during interviews and everything. But now that they were done for the day, he had nothing to distract him from the depressed, empty feelings swirling around inside him. 

Leaning his head back, Starchild closed his eyes. He just wanted to go to sleep and forget this day ever happened… 

… when suddenly his phone rang. 

And Starchild remembered; Velma was supposed to call today. They had set up a system where she would call him every week. He’d completely forgotten… How could you forget about your own girlfriend?

He reached for his phone and looked at the screen. Sure enough, there was his contact picture for Velma. He’d managed to snap a picture of her while she was in the middle of a fit of laughter. He pressed “answer” and pressed his phone to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Hi,” 

A faint smile drifted onto his face. “Hi, Velma. How are you?” 

“I’m okay. We’re in El Paso right now.” 

“Solving a mystery?” 

“Of course. Someone’s been pretending to be a ghost haunting the Magoffin Homestead…” 

Velma descended into an explanation of the mystery, going over what had been happening before and after they arrived and what clues she had found and the theories she had so far. Starchild stayed quiet, willing to listen with a small smile on his face. He just loved how enthusiastic she got about a mystery… 

Velma suddenly laughed sheepishly, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry, I got excited,” 

“Hey, don’t apologize for that,” Starchild chuckled softly. It was the most he could give. “How is everyone? How are Shaggy and Scooby?” 

“They’re doing good. They did get thrown around by the supposed ghost earlier, but they’re fine now.” 

“And Daphne and Frank?” 

Velma sighed. “Are you ever going to call him Fred?” 

Starchild’s smile widened slightly. “Maybe someday,” 

“Fine… They’re good, too. They all told me to say hi for them.” 

“Great,” He wondered if Velma could hear how unenthusiastic his voice was. 

“Anyway, how about you? How are you doing?” 

“I’m… I’m doing all right…” his voice didn’t sound convincing. And if it didn’t sound convincing to him, then it probably didn’t sound convincing to Velma either. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m sure.” 

“Were you busy today? You sound tired.” 

A good observation… He was tired. Tired of having this stupid feeling of depression keeping him from being happy. He just wanted to feel okay. He just wanted to feel normal. But instead he felt gloomy and depressed, and he hated it. 

Starchild closed his eyes and leaned his head back again. “Yeah, we were busy today. A lot of interviews… I am a little tired.” 

“You should get some sleep. You don’t have a show tonight, so it’s the perfect night to go to bed early.” 

A slight smile appeared again. He’d forgotten that Velma had memorized their tour schedule so she could figure out when to call him. “Yeah, I should do that…” The smile quickly faded, however. 

He sighed. God, why couldn’t he just feel normal? 

“Starchild?” There was Velma’s voice again. She sounded concerned. “Is everything okay?” 

For some reason, Starchild felt two conflicting feelings at once. He wanted to tell her, just pour out everything to her over the phone; but he also didn’t want to tell her, because what if she didn’t understand? What if she thought he was making it up for sympathy? But he also didn’t want to lie to her. He loved that Velma would never lie to him if she could help it; he couldn’t help wanting to do the same. 

“I… No…” He was just going to say it. “I just… felt really off today…” 

“Oh. Did something happen?” 

“I don’t know… I just, woke up and didn’t want to get out of bed. And I felt… I don’t know how to describe it, but gloomy?” 

“Blah? Daphne uses that word sometimes.” 

That suddenly was the perfect word for it. “That’s it; I just felt blah all day. Just, blah and gloomy and…” He suddenly didn’t want to say the word “depressed”. 

“Did… um… did anything happen to make you feel blah?” 

Starchild would have smiled in any other case; Velma sounded unsure, meaning she was out of her comfort zone with asking that question. She was asking anyway, though, for him, and that was incredibly sweet. But as it was, he didn’t feel like smiling anymore. “No… But I think it might be because…” Was he really going to say it? Just confess everything to Velma over the phone? She was probably not expecting to have this conversation at all when she called. 

“Because of what?” 

Starchild swallowed. “Because sometimes I feel depressed. And I don’t know why. Just any random day I’ll wake up and suddenly I won’t want to get out of bed. But I know it’s because… years ago, I was diagnosed with depression.” 

The line was quiet for a long moment. Starchild’s heart raced in the moment that seemed to last forever as he waited for Velma to say something. 

“Oh…” finally came her response. “I see.” 

Starchild tugged on a piece of his hair. “It’s not so bad now. I have ways to handle it. But sometimes it just… comes back and takes me by surprise and I can never prepare for it. And I don’t know if that’s normal or not, for it to happen for years after getting help and therapy and everything. I didn’t tell you because… I didn’t know how you’d respond to it. I know I don’t act like I have depression or mental health problems…” He trailed off. 

Velma’s response came after another brief pause. “Are you… okay?” 

“I’m… No… Not right now. But if I get some sleep, I should be okay.” 

“Okay… I don’t care, you know.” 

Starchild’s heart froze dead. “... What?” She didn’t care? Did she not care that he had problems? Did she just think he was looking for sympathy? 

“I don’t care,” Velma repeated. “That you have depression, I mean.” 

The wave of relief that washed over Starchild at that was astounding. He sagged back against the couch. “Oh… You don’t care?” 

“No, I don’t. It’s not… you. Like, it doesn’t make you who you are. It’s only a facet of you. Part of your genetic makeup. But it isn’t your entire genetic makeup. If… If that makes sense.” 

A smile drifted onto Starchild’s face. “That makes sense.” She was trying to explain in her own Velma sort of way. “You’re sure you don’t care?” 

“I’m pretty sure. If you, um, ever want to talk about it, you can talk to me. If you want.” 

The smile widened slightly. “Thanks, Velma,” 

She sounded like she was smiling on her end of the line. “You’re welcome. You should probably go lie down now.” 

Starchild sighed softly. “I should… Thanks for calling.” 

“You’re welcome. Same time next week?” 

“Definitely. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” 

When Velma hung up, Starchild set his phone down and went to go lie down. He ended up drifting off to sleep. 

When he woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed and lighter, he went to his phone and found a message from Velma that had been sent the night before. It was a link to a Google Doc file, and when he opened it, he found it to be a document full of what looked to be webpages copied and pasted from the Internet, from several psychologists. And all of them were about how relapses of depression were common and manageable. 

Starchild smiled down at his phone and typed a reply. Just saw the google doc. Thanks :) 

To his surprise, his phone pinged a couple minutes later. You’re welcome :)

You know you didn’t have to do that for me, right? 

It’s fine. I don’t care.