FicWad

The next few days, I spend with Gerard. Every moment I can. He makes me feel good, for the first time in my life. I want to talk to him. I haven’t. But I want to.
I know that I’m helping him to. I can’t explain how I know it, but I do. There’s something in his eyes…
I haven’t cut since that first night.
Everything is perfect. So I know that it won’t last. I can’t bring myself to trust anything good. And I’m right. And I hate it.
I shut the door behind me as I go into my dorm. Gerard is supposed to pick me up in a little bit; he just has to drop his stuff off at his place.
I notice I’ve got about eight missed calls on my phone. Thalia must be desperate to tell me something.
I have a voicemail, and my best guess is that she’s calling to tell me she’s getting married to her boyfriend, Frankie.
But on the voicemail, it’s not Thalia. It’s Frankie.
There’s static, and sirens in the background. “Rainier- it’s Frankie. Thalia got in a car accident. They don’t know what’s gonna happen. “ It fuzzes over, and the message ends. I feel my legs buckling and I slide towards the floor.
No. Not Thalia. The only person who’s ever really cared about me. Broken.
And I knew. I knew it was coming.
Tears spill down my face. Trembling hands, I reach for my bad, hunting. I find what I’m looking for. More pain. Better. Because I can control it.
Blade on my wrist, I’m beginning to pull it gently across the skin when my door flies open.
“Rainier?”
The blade slips, going deeper and farther than I ever intended. I gasp at the pain, and drop the knife. Scarlet drips from it, falling onto the floor.
There’s quick footsteps behind me, and I feel color blossom on my cheeks when Gerard kneels next to me.
“Jesus Christ Rain!” He says. At first he only sees the blood. And then he looks at the blade on the ground. And he understands. He bites his lip for a fraction of a second, before pulling me up off the ground.
“Where’s your bathroom?”
I jerk my head towards it, trying to stop crying. The cut is on fire, and it’s burning everything away. My vision is swimming.
Gerard holds most of my weight as he helps me to the bathroom. I sink to the floor again, not only from physical pain, but fear for Thalia, and the pressure in my mind.
Gerard flings open cabinets, pulling out a towel. He presses it gently over the cut, and I grit my teeth. He looks scared when a moan escapes my lips. He pulls the towel off and stares for a moment.
“That’s it. It’s too deep. You need stitches. I’m taking you to a doctor. And then you’re going to talk to me. You’re gonna tell me everything.”
I don’t say anything. He sighs, pulling me up again. He puts an arm around my waist and tries to help me. I pull away, wiping off my tears. I make my way out, to where I know he’s got his car parked.
He’s deadly quiet on the way to the ER. I know he’s confused. I don’t say anything; just try not to fall apart completely. Especially at the idea of having to talk to him. It’s all becoming too much, and I can feel myself fading.
Gerard has a panicky expression when he looks at me.
“Hey! Don’t do that! Don’t close your eyes.” His own eyes bore into mine, even as he drives. I can’t look away. I’m afraid to.
After another second, he turns his attention back to the road. He glances back to me every few seconds, to make sure I’m listening to him. That I’m not slipping away, like I’m dying to do.
I don’t know if I would have ever gotten off the floor, if he hadn’t come.
He jerks the car to a stop in a parking space. Jumping out, he runs around the front, helping me out, though I don’t really need it. I know I should try harder to pull together, because it’s scaring him. But I can’t bring myself back all the way.
Gerard makes the pace fast as we go into the ER. There’s no wait. We go in immediately. When I don’t speak, the doctor gives Gerard a suspicious look, to which he simply stares back at forcefully. He lies when the doctor asks what happened. He says I slit my wrist on a shard of metal that I was using for art. The doctor doesn’t quite buy it, but he doesn’t question Gerard.
Gerard holds me hand tightly when the doctor stitches me, and his eyes never leave mine. We just stare at each other. He’s so beautiful. He’s the only thing holding me here.
I say thank you to the doctor when he finishes, and then we leave. And Gerard’s eyes still haven’t left mine. We walk to the car and when we get in, he speaks.
“Do you want to talk here, or at your dorm?” He speaks softly.
“My dorm.” I whisper.
He nods. “Ok.”